May The Dread Wolf Take You

Chapter Sixteen: Unwell

     "Lie still, Vhenan." Solas told Lavellan as she squirmed on the bed anxiously. "They'll be here soon. Just be still, you'll only make the pain worse." He warned her but she was not in her right mind. She was giggly at first as if everything amused her. Then she got angry. Solas was barely with here for that part luckily. He'd gone to fetch help and when he returned, she threw a flower pot in his direction, nearly hitting him in the head. Solas was just glad she hadn't been mad long. He feared she might lash out at him about lying to her.

    Now she was annoyed and fidgety. She couldn't seem to sit still. She kept trying to sit up or get out of bed. Solas would push her back down and hold her there until she seemed to comply. She'd mumble under her breath about nothing in particular. She wouldn't meet his gaze for some reason which made him skeptical.

     "Here, drink this." He handed her a small glass of some herbal concoction and she looked at it suspiciously. Solas wondered if this was another stage of the side effects of whatever was poisoning her. He feared what she'd be like when she finally rode out all the phases of it. She was already paling compared to her usually complexion. Sweat beaded on her forehead in a shimmering sheet. Her breaths were labored and uneven and her hands shook when she reached to take the glass from him.

     She took a sip and her lips curled into a foul cringe. "This is terrible!" She coughed as she handed it back to him and held a hand over her mouth, afraid she might be sick. "No worse than the stout at the tavern I suspect." Solas responded. He set the drink on the table beside the bed and reached for her hand. It was cold and limp in his yet held a moist, sweat-like quality. "It should soothe the pain somewhat." He said with a grim look. Maeve returned it with a heavy almost aggravated sigh. "Don't look so fatalistic, Solas. I'm not dead yet." She told him. A faint laugh escaped her as she forced a smile.

      He swallowed hard as she laid back and closed her eyes. Solas couldn't help but feel dread come over him. She had brightened his world, turned him in the direction of what was right. She meant more to him than he knew how to express. There was an ache in his chest as he observed her. He couldn't stand the way those words had rolled out of her mouth so easily. "Not dead yet." Yet, he thought. The way it stung him was horrendous. He couldn't imagine how life would be without her.

     She could be gone before the day was up. Wouldn't that be ironic. She was miraculously strong enough to survive the attachment of the anchor to her. She could lead an army, an Inquisition, into the fires of war confidently. She could stand up to and take on Corypheus on her own. She could kill a dragon by the simple swinging of her ax. And yet, a single swipe from a bear could be her undoing, could kill her with such ease, could wipe her glorious existence from Thedas and snuff out all possibility of fixing it.

     He continued to watch her as she lied there. For a moment it seemed as if she had fallen asleep. Her breathing slowed to almost nothing and Solas had to lean in to make sure it was still there. She opened her eyes when he did as if sensing his closeness. There was a small, mild grin on her face. One that had obviously come of her stepping out of the fidgety phase.

     He thought that perhaps the cycle was starting over and she was going to be bubbly again but instead she pulled his hand to her and kissed it leisurely. He couldn't help but smile in response. "Lay with me." She said, still holding his hand close to her face. He wanted to. His every fiber craved to sit by her side and hold her even after she was better. But her wounds were beyond his ability to fix and she was stronger than that. She didn't need him to coddle her into recovery. He let out a lengthy breath. He was weary of what might happen when the others arrive. 

     He was aware now that both Cullen and Cassandra knew about or, at the very least, were suspicious of their activities. If they were to find them wrapped in one another's embrace it would verify their allegations. He had to do what he could to preserve Lavellan's reputation. Surely there were people that would greatly disapprove of their relationship. He couldn't bear to cause her a loss in support due to her affiliation with him. He realized quickly after, that she would lose support anyway after Corypheus is dead because she would help him escape. 

    He gave in. He didn't care. Her pleading face looking up at him tiredly as she lay there was enough to erode away at his resolve. He sat on the bed to her right and scooted to be directly beside her. She looked momentarily as if she were going to turn to face him but her body wouldn't have it so she settled for just turning her head. She didn't smile this time. She just looked at him. Her eyes were hollow. Where there had previously been spirit and fire, wonderment and joy, there was now an empty pool of green flecks. She was nearly green entirely now. Her pale pinkish ivory skin had faded and all of her was a disconcerting yellowish color that made her look tainted and pained. All the flush embarrassment had been taken out of her and her ability to blush was gone.

     He put his arms around her the best he could without disturbing her injury and planted an adoring kiss on the top of her head. She tried to let out a ragged breath but it caught in her throat and she coughed vigorously. She brought up the sheet that lay over her lap and covered her mouth.

    Even though he had just set himself by her, he got up and went to the table where there was a pitcher of water. "Here, Vhenan." He said. He tried to say it gently but his voice came out harsh and rough. He was beginning to panic. Cullen was taking far too long. He'd want to have a word with him when he eventually got here but his entire focus would be on Maeve.

    She took the cool drink from him and sipped it slowly. Solas knelt beside her on the floor, so they were nearly at eye level. Finally, they heard the door open and footsteps on the stairs. Two nurses, a healer, and a Chantry woman stood and waited for their presence to be noticed. Maeve looked to them. Solas however did not look away from her. She looked so weak and fragile where she had once been strong and stubbornly unbreakable. This change in her made him shiver with the thought of her being very seriously unwell. Eventually though, as Cullen and Cassandra entered the room, he stood and backed away allowing the help in the room to go to her without his being in the way.