thisavrou_log | i've seen this room

Entry tags:

dragon age: solas

i've seen this room

Who: Solas, Cole and open to others!
When: Throughout July
Where: Elfhaus, R3
What: General catch all for the house in July!
Warnings: N/A atm

[ The house has been mostly barren and empty for the last few weeks; since his and Lavellan's argument Solas has done his best to avoid haunting his room and the lounge, only coming back on the rare chance that he might somehow run into Cole. All their conversations have been difficult, rough and damaging for his mind and his thoughts, but there is very little that would keep him away from the once-spirit now.

He wants nothing more than to be there, to have Cole at his side, welcoming the boy as he had done in Thedas - as he had been, once, the only one capable of understanding the nature of Cole and the way his thoughts work.

It is not so, now. He's aware of that, much to his own frustration. Solas feels adrift, on edge, and does not know how to make do with himself.

More than anything he finds that he is rather bored.

The door to the house is often left open to let the air in and the cold of the season does not do much to bother the elf that sits inside. He is more than capable of summoning his own fire to keep him warm and he often sits, his eyes glowing in the dark, drawing and sketching to that firelight. He has nothing better to do other than to read, and even he needs a break from it. There is little about returning home and he is doing all that he can to understand the science of this world, as fruitless as it seems.

It has been a long time since he has felt loneliness, but it creeps in all the same. ]

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[ There were many experiences he was gaining very quickly here, so quickly in fact they were aggressively crowding out everything he had known before. Not in the sense of amnesia— he hadn't forgotten— but pleasures once important to him had fallen by the wayside. How long had it been since he studied a flower? Got lost in the breeze? Most of his days now are spent hanging around the Ingress, helping new arrivals to be safely on their way.

He hardly dreams.

And that too is strange. Tonight, he wonders if Solas still dreams even with the Fade so weak here. Has he seen the hidden mysteries here as well? Could he still walk in the in between places? Cole's nights end in shut eyes and his mornings begin in open ones. If there is anything but darkness between the two moments he doesn't know.

When he returns to the house, he lingers near Solas, clingy in how he doesn't want to leave his side. He watches him paint for hours, silent. But when it seems Solas is getting ready to call it a night, he finally asks:]

Do you still dream?

[ Solas' isolation is self-given, he's aware of that; he had locked himself away because he had no interest in getting to know strangers in a world he did not intend to stay in, and his frustrations were focussed around the understanding that there is no means for him to escape. Thedas is waiting for him, the Fade is waiting, and the Veil needs to come down. HIs own frustration only shows itself through his sharpness with Neriel before he had left and his distance from Cole.

Secrets had come out and been spoken aloud before Solas had been entirely prepared to face them. His own uncertainty about his nature makes him feel on edge, as though he is going to snap as soon as Cole is back at his side, and that is not what he wants. He relishes any chance to spend more time with Cole, even if it means that he has to suffer the knowledge that Cole knows more than he ought.

He can feel the moment that Cole comes back to the house, but he doesn't force himself to look up. He waits, at least for a moment, to give Cole the freedom to speak and voice his thoughts - and when he does Solas glances up, offering a soft smile before he puts his things to to one side. ]

Sometimes. It is not the same as it was in Thedas.

[ Reaching out, Solas offers a hand. Their newfound connection is something tenuous, something he doesn't want to break - he wants to foster it, he wants to let it grow. He cherishes it. ]

It is weaker. The memories are less vivid.

[ Cole doesn't pause before taking Solas's hand, his fingers quite comfortable twining in with his own. He comes closer to him, turns slightly to look at the texture of the paint drying fresh. There's something roiling between them he doesn't quite understand. It's a complexity that can exist between two people that is hard for him to grasp. He knows he doesn't spend as much time here as he used to; he knows that something keeps him away. But what? The wells of his forgiveness had always provided sweetly and generously. Solas wasn't the man who killed him— he had no reason to hold onto anything in his chest.

Still, he stays away, doesn't know why. ]

What is it like?

[A little embarrassed, nervous]

I don't dream any more.

[ Their relationship has changed and shifted slightly and Solas is aware of it - since the time that Cole slipped into his mind and delved into his thoughts, since Solas denied himself the chance to rid it all... There is a barrier between them. This is why he had taken the memories in the first place; he did not want to put a weight on Cole's shoulders that he could not bear, and he did not want to see what the effect of the truth would have on him.

All the same, Solas reaches out and Cole takes his hand, with little hesitation, and it gives him a reason to breathe and relax. He lets himself take a breath and then calm before he turns his attention back over to Cole, tilting his head. ]

Dreaming with the Fade is not the same as the dreams that others have.

[ He shakes his head, voice quiet. ]

There is little control in dreams. Everyone in Thedas visits the Fade when they dream, but a dreamer can enter the Fade when they wish to view the memories of the place where they rest.

[ He lets silence well up between them, not at all uncomfortable as it fills up every space. He's sorting out his feelings one-by-one from the jumbled pile they're in. He knows what he wants to express, but no words put into any order seem to be good enough. Cole lets himself go at it at a slow pace, knowing that Solas will always wait for him. As always, he marvels at the difference of texture between their palms. Feeling it is soothing; there are tiny tears in their shared tapestry he can't see, but the fact of their hands together as they always have repairs the threads just the same.

Finally, and heavy with conflicted grief:]

The Fade was my home. Everything made sense there.

[The last time he had been to the Fade, it had created a desperate panic that Solas had soothed him out of. Torn between two places had stretched him thin, but he had chosen now, and no longer had that fear of a choice being made for him. But he wasn't always sure it was right. Or what would make him happiest.]

I don't... regret what I've done, I. [An empty space where another thought would have been. Mouth twists into a frown.]

It would be good to see it again as I know it.

[ They can settle like this with an air of companionship that nothing can touch; there are some links that he and Cole share that no other person in this world would be capable of, that no one else would be able to reach, because they have lived in a world that is beyond understanding. They embraced the Fade in a way that was impossible for most, and Solas basked in that knowledge - that no matter what came between them, what this world did to the careful glass of their concern for one another, they would never lose the link that bound them so surely.

He wishes that he could make things easier for Cole, that he had that power. He does not. ]

You could return, if you wished.

[ Solas frowns, turning his attention away from his drawings and his things so that his focus is on Cole and Cole alone. ]

Not permanently. That is impossible now, given the choices that you made. But we could return together in a dream, if you wished.

[ He had taken Sahlin there before, after all. It would not be so hard to take Cole. ]

Do not think of regret for your choices. Embrace the chances you are being given now instead.

[This too he lets settle into the air. Would it just hurt more to be there again, or would it make him happy? He knows that memory is very strange, can make you think things were one thing when really they were the other. But it would be better to know than to fear.

And Solas is right. If he starts to work at the knot of one regret, all of his other regrets constrict tighter. He's not a spirit any more, which is what he wanted, which is what he should embrace.

His expression relaxes, his inner struggle for now settled.]

I would like to go there. Can you... take me?

[ It seems hypocritical for Solas to suggest that Cole ought to focus on the future rather than the past and a world he had left behind, but he's aware that his own advice is often borne of his own understanding, his own empathy, burning low inside of him like a tender flame. He offers it because he knows that Cole will understand - that this boy will recognise the doubts, fears and hatred Solas feels and come to his side all the same.

Bowing his head, he does what he can to fight his smile. He wants to embrace every moment he has with Cole, wants to be around him like this for as long as he can manage, and he is being given a wonderful gift today. It is better to think of it as a present than something he will inevitably have to give up. ]

Of course. We could go tonight.

[ They need to be asleep, after all. ]

Yes.

[He smiles, just a little bit, just a little turning up of his mouth that might not be a smile at all to anyone but Solas. There would be no fear this time, no desperate confusion. If he sees it again, he will get to remember how things were and know how things will be. The Fade knew no "before" or "after", only the multi-faceted kaleidoscope stream of existence that encompassed every moment that was and would be. For Cole, it was all he had known, and for Solas, it was what he liked to know. That was just a small part of what bound their hearts so tight together:

They didn't fear the knowing.

Unasked for, annoying, the guilt pipes up again, and he shifts his eyes away from Solas's face.]

Has it been good here?

Then we shall do it.

[ What is there to stop them? There is nothing that could bar their entry - he has rested like this already - and no one to interrupt them. This is to he their venture, the two of them together, and Solas cannot think of anything he would love more. It will not be as when Cole was drawn into the physical Fade, dangerous to his very existence; it will be a wonderful dream, and he looks forward to it.

Turning his head, Solas closes his eyes and smiles. ]

The dreams? They have not been unpleasant.

[ He hasn't seen much, but nothing that has made him want to stop. ]

[ Solas had quickly broken down his will to avoid him. The first text had been the first crack in his resolve, and so on until it all crumbled down around him and he was left with guilty pieces guilting him about the way he had now hurt Solas too. That wasn't what he had wanted, he just didnt know how to face him. Hawke had said that Neriel's secret was one that should have been told— and he believes her— so that means even more that the blame of what happened can be placed on him. Little nasty things are quick to sing their choruses in his head. It's hard to silence them now when he's cold and alone.

And cold and alone reminds him of when he died. Or, not when he himself died, but when human Cole did. But isn't he human Cole now? The point is that he can't feel his fingertips very well any more, and his skin feels like it has grown teeth only to turn on itself.

He returns to their home, body aches stronger when he sees and feels how warm and bright it is past the threshold. He stands a foot away from the door. His thoughts are dizzying in how they circle and knot around each other. He can't quite take the last steps. ]

[ Solas feels as though he ought to be more surprised that Neriel had managed to get himself tangled up in things, but he isn't - he can't find the will to be shocked, not truly, not when he's well aware of what an Inquisitor is like. Sahlin would have been the same, he thinks, rushing in head first without thinking about the consequences of her actions or what might happen as a result of them. She would have ran blindly because someone she cared for was in trouble, and there is no denying he sees the same thing reflected in the way that Neriel has acted.

It's only when Cole comes to the door and settles there, waiting for some form of invitation, that Solas calms a little. There is a whirling storm inside of him, concern and frustrated and irritation all merging into some kind of tsunami, but he forces himself to relax at the realisation that Cole will be picking up on the mixed feelings that spring to life inside of him. He does not want him to feel as though he is stuck, somehow, or that any of this is his fault. Solas knows where the blame lies. ]

Come inside, Cole.

[ Turning his head, Solas does what he can to manage a grim smile. ]

This is still your home.

Right.

[He steps inside, quite careful, as if this was a place he had never been invited to before instead of a place he had spent many hours. The sudden heat is jarring at first, he had become a bit numb, but he lets himself be soothed by it. It's exhausting, being so twisted up with regrets and guilt and shame, and he doesn't want to exist in those feelings any more. If Solas can help him through them, he won't have to. But where to start?]

Are you mad at me?

[Solas isn't, and he knows it, but his guilt prompts the words just the same.]

[ Solas moves his fingers, a flex of limbs, and the Veilfire calms just enough for it to be a little more comfortable for Cole. He is not blind, after all, to the discomfort of others, and Solas wants to keep Cole close for as long as he can - to welcome him, to offer him whatever is possible, whatever he can give with his limited means. The world will change and reshape itself, will be unmade and remade, but Solas will never forget this. Moments where Cole is there and real - there is nothing, until death, that will rob him of it. ]

No. I am not mad at you, Cole.

[ A part of him is frustrated, yes, but there is no anger. His anger is held for this world and the people that have them trapped there - and, in part, kept close to his heart, saved to be unleashed on a foolish Lavellan who ran off to destroy the world without a whisper.

Perhaps he had wanted to die. Solas is not sure how to digest the thought. ]

Do you want to talk?

[ He's an empty glass. It's all been poured out, it's spilled across the Complex, its staining whoever he's told. Its the dregs that remain now, little things with little claws sunk deep into his thoughts that scream if he tries to get them to leave. He can't pry them off alone.

Cole closes the distance between them and tips forward, folding himself down so that his forehead can press against Solas's shoulder. Solas is much less than him, he's a beam of light to his heavy shadow, but he leans on him just the same. As always, he hopes that Solas will have the answer for him, because Solas usually does and Solas usually knows what to say in a way he can understand. ]

How do you take it away?

[ There's something uncertain, but Solas does not know how to bridge the gap - but he reaches all the same, with his heart and his hand, offering himself to Cole without pause. This world has taken its toll on the both of them in different ways, and he does not pause as he allows Cole to settle close, to draw around him and rest against his body, as if there is no need to consider distance between them.

It's miraculous that Cole will settle against him, now, and Solas breathes out a soft noise as his arms lift to hold onto him. He rests a hand on his back, fingers pressed against the curve of his spine, and he lets his eyes close for a moment. ]

That depends on what you wish to lose.

[A shift of his head to be heard more clearly, his words quiet against Solas's neck.]

Everything is knots never known. I help the hurt of others people, I untangle the threads.

But not for myself.

[Never needed to.]

[He put the key into the lock, turned it, let what was inside out. The cage is empty. It's easier to breathe, and he sighs with relief that some of the weight is gone. Is that all he needed? It embarrasses him a little that he hasn't been able to help himself, that every dark thing, even the smallest spot of doubt, could wreck so much havoc. That's what he wants to take away. Their power.]

Have you ever wondered why it is easier to help the hurts of others?

[ Solas lifts his hand, laying it flat and gentle on the nape of Cole's neck. ]

We cannot understand the root of our own pain. We might know the cause, we might understand how it occurred, but it is not so easy to find the centre and untangle all the feelings. It is what made you such an adept aid to those that accepted you. You saw what they could not and soothed the burns of a thousand broken hearts.

[ It is a difficult concept; Compassion is wonderful, but that is not what Cole is anymore. He is something greater than that and worse at the same time, different from the spirit Solas had loved so dearly but special all the same. ]

What would you do for this hurt if it was someone else feeling it?

[He hadn't wanted to come back for a long time. If ever.

But he'd awoken in the Savrii med center when he should be dead. When he had been dead. He remembered dying.

And yet.

He'd welcomed it, at the time. He'd thought it was the final thing he could offer, his life in exchange for someone else's peace. He'd accepted this as his fate. And yet, somehow, miraculously, he was still breathing. And he didn't know what to do with himself.

So he'd gone home. It was the only thing he could think of.

It's the early hours of the morning when he comes through the entryway. It's strangely reminiscent of months ago, that episode with the asteroid, but this time he doesn't stop for anything; he just goes straight to his room. If he sees Solas, or Cole, on the way, he doesn't acknowledge either. He doesn't have the patience anymore. He's so tired.

He goes to his room, but he doesn't sleep. Instead he lies on the pad and stares at the wall, and waits for... something. He doesn't know what. Maybe it's sleep. Maybe it's death. Whichever comes first, he's tired of existing. But he doesn't know how to stop.]

[ Solas does not push. It is not his place.

He moves around the house and cleans things, tidies others away, puts his painting supplies back into his room and covers up the charcoal drawings that had begun to emerge. The house is no longer his domain alone; he must go back to sharing it with Lavellan, and he can manage that. All his feelings are locked away, hidden in his artistry, and he has no reason to dwell on them anymore.

It doesn't stop his concern, however, and when he hears nothing from Lavellan for longer than is perhaps healthy he moves to stand in front of the door, considering and thoughtful.

What does he say? What can he do? Solas knows that there is a gap between them now, something that he cannot overcome, and there is nothing that he can do to stop it. All he can do is force himself forward, to work hard to push through the urge to sleep and fall into dreams.

So, he brews. Tea is easy, even if he dislikes it, and it means he has an excuse to call through the door. ]

There is tea, if you wish it.

[It takes a superhuman effort to pull himself out of bed. Lavellan almost doesn't even bother. But when Solas calls to him he somehow manages to summon the energy from reserves he didn't even think he had.

Maybe it was only for Solas that he could have done it.

He knows he must look a wreck when he opens the door to Solas. It's amazing how little he cares. He feels detached from his own body, like a ghost in his own skin.

It feels like years since they last spoke, and with the dust in his mouth to match. Lavellan swallows.]

Trying to stay awake?

[It's... glib. But it's all he can think of to say.]

[ There is an awkwardness between them that Solas does not wish to spend too much time considering - he knows why it is there, what bore it, and what would come of it if he even put the words to voice. He is too tired for another argument, too sour for another debate about his choices and what it means for Thedas.

He cannot return any time soon. That, he thinks, is the hardest thing for him to accept, even with his power still fluttering at his fingertips.

Carefully, he pours the tea, deciding he ought not to go out of his way trying to prepare Lavellan's, and turns to face the man. He does not know how this Lavellan takes their tea, and he did not drink with Sahlin often enough to hazard an experimental guess about their shared preferences. ]

Yes. Whatever version of the Fade is here is... Unwelcoming at times. I thought it best to leave it until I am more comfortable.

[Of all things, their argument is the last thing on Lavellan's mind. All those things he'd been angry about feel like they happened another lifetime ago.

It's surreal, speaking to Solas as if the last month hadn't happened. Has it really only been a month?

He wonders if Solas's nightmares were like his. Whether they had that same visceral feeling of realness, blurring the line between dream and memory. Whether he has the same problems telling the difference, sometimes.

No wonder he drinks tea.

Lavellan folds his hands around his own cup mechanically and forgets to drink from it.]

It is certainly different here.

[Could Shepard be right? Could there be something about this place that affects dreaming, in a way completely separate from the Fade? And what did that mean, if so?]

It is nothing like Thedas and that has been quite a learning curve.

[ Solas has always thought of himself adept at adaptation, in learning a means to survive no matter what happened - it is how he became part of the Inquisition, after all, and how he learned to cope with the radical differences in the world he had known and the world he had awoken in.

The Thedas that Neriel knew was easier to adjust to than this place. The technology was beyond anything he could imagine and his mind still struggled to wrap around the differences in the Fade. It was uncomfortable and unwelcome, and now he was trapped, as he had been before.

He glances down at his tea, breathing out a soft noise. ]

You seem to have found some manner of peace.

[ He's just not sure what that peace is and, in truth, he is somewhat afraid of it. ]

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i've seen this room

the dream of life [pre-plot]

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how to say what can't be said [plot aka mo inquisitors mo problems]

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hi (7/20)

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