The Circle Elf and the Apostate

The Circle Elf

Soren walked stiffly through Skyhold's great hall, carefully stepping over the wood planks strewn throughout. It had taken a week to get here from Haven, though he was surprised it hadn't been longer. The mages did what they could when they camped each night, but many were seriously injured, including Soren himself. His escape from Haven left him battered and bruised from head to toe.

Several of his ribs had been broken, fingers and toes smashed, his ankle twisted, shoulder dislocated, and he had a lump on his head Dorian swore was the size of a goose egg, though he'd never actually seen one. He was unconscious for hours after Cullen and the others finally found him, and the free mages had mitigated much of the damage in that time. He could only thank the Maker that his siblings had gotten out of it all unscathed. A part of him had been terrified that they would refuse to leave him behind, but they were there waiting in his tent when he woke up, Eren stone-faced and Fia crying harder than a babe just born. After a few more treatments, he began waving them all off, feeling guilty over those more injured than he. Soren was determined to limp to Skyhold if he had to, but much to his shame, he often had to take Solas up on his offer for an arm.

"An elf will still have led the way even should you lean on me now," he had told him. It seemed a small gesture, but it felt to Soren as though his weight had been halved. It slid from his shoulders, his brow relaxed, and the knot in his stomach unraveled just a bit. After that, Solas also began personally attending to his injuries each night. He claimed not to be as good as the other healers, but even his conversation made him feel a little better each time. In the end, he was left only with a mild headache, sore ribs, and some light bruising in various places.

Now, he made his way to the rotunda, where Solas had decided to take up residence. It had been a few days since he'd been named Inquisitor, and the most immediate plans for Skyhold had been made. He finally had a moment to thank Solas. Nearing the door, he could hear soft voices coming from inside. Soren paused, wondering if he should disturb him now, but decided it was as good a time as any.

He opened the door to see Cole sitting cross-legged on a table in the center of the room. He seemed to simply be watching Solas, who also seemed to be simply staring at the wall. Puzzled, Soren looked between the two of them for a moment before announcing his presence.

"What's going on here?"

At that, Solas turned gracefully, as he always did, to face him.

"Ah, Inquisitor–"

"He's painting," Cole finished for him. It did little to curb the confusion, Soren looking again at the blank wall behind them, his mouth quirked up in a half smile.

"Is he?"

"I plan to," Solas replied. He paused again for a moment, seeing how serious the two of them looked, and he began to laugh. After all they'd been through, it was nice to see someone so serious about something as small as painting. It felt good to laugh despite the pain in his ribs making him wince. When he looked back up, attempting to stifle himself, he saw Solas staring back at him, brows furrowed slightly. Oh, he thought with a start, I must have offended him. I can't believe I laughed when I came here to thank him. Soren cleared his throat.

"I'm sorry, I didn't–"

"No. That's not it," Cole interrupted. Before he had the chance to ask what he meant, the spirit continued, "He still hurts. Haven burning. Lost in the chaos. Shouldn't have left him. Should've gone back. He's here– alive but broken." Soren's eyes widened as Cole went on, barely taking a breath between his half-sentences. "All my fault. I left him behind. Can't laugh like he used to. Ribs must hurt. Didn't heal him enough. I'm sorry..." He trailed off, looking distracted. Didn't heal him enough?

"Were those... Solas's thoughts?" He asked carefully.

"Yes," he said matter-of-factly. Soren looked to the man in question, who, for the first time since meeting him, also seemed unsure of what to say. His mouth hung slightly open as if he was waiting for the words to form themselves, and Soren's own thoughts were torn somewhere between racing and nonexistence.

"Solas, I..." A memory of Solas leaning over his cot flickered across his mind. His face had been twisted in open concern as he scanned over his injuries, his palm resting gently on the side of his face.

"I apologize, Inquisitor." His face had shifted back to its usual cool state, though Soren noted his body language was stiffer than before. "I did not mean for my thoughts to burden you. It seems we have much to learn from our new friend here."

"No, it's just that..." He wasn't sure why the words stuck in his throat now. He never considered that Solas might feel guilty over losing him in their escape. Perhaps such a raw admission had made him a bit emotional. He cleared his throat, wincing over the lump that had formed, and began again despite his now flushing cheeks. "I just came here to thank you. I needed someone to lean on after what happened in Haven, and you were there for me. I appreciate you." The corners of Solas's eyes softened slightly, and Soren's heart might've skipped a beat or two at the sight of it.

"Please, do not thank me. You are our Inquisitor, and you are stronger than you know." Soren smiled, supposing that was his way of saying 'you're welcome.'

Before anyone could say anything further, the door swung open behind him, and a blur of familiar raven hair and dark skin flew past him.

"Solas!" Fia shouted, rushing forward and throwing her arms around the wide-eyed man. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" He still looked like he wanted to escape his own skin at the surprise contact, but he seemed to resign himself to his fate just before Fia pulled back away from him. "I meant to thank you earlier, but, well, you know. You saved my stupid brother's life. Eren and I are so grateful," she said in her usual warm, peppy tone of voice.

"As I just finished saying to your brother, your thanks are not necessary, but the thought is appreciated," he said with a gentle smile. Suddenly, Soren felt a twinge of jealousy that Solas might feel more at ease with his sister who looked so similar to him. His own looks were a tad feminine, soft and delicate, and Fia was hardly curvier than himself. They even wore their hair in the same dark, waist-length braid. In that moment, he was truly jealous that had she wanted to, Fia would face no issues confessing her feelings to a man. Because she was a woman, and no one had any qualms about a man and a woman being together.

Soren frowned then and shook his head, clearing the unpleasant thoughts from his mind. It would do him no good to think such things. His situation would not change. Glancing over, he realized that Cole had been staring at him with those round blue eyes of his, unblinking and expressionless. It was unnerving, but Soren sensed that he meant no harm. He gave the spirit a small smile before looking back to the other two.

"I guess I should go. Lots of Inquisitorly duties to take care of and all that..." He said. Fia raised a brow at him while Solas just nodded in acknowledgement. Soren turned on his heel and pushed his way out of the rotunda, cursing himself for his own awkward delivery and wishing the archdemon would've swallowed him whole.