By My Hands: Chapter 9

It took some time and many, many more tears, but Rook finally rose from her bed and walked into her bathroom. She looked in the mirror and found a sad, tear-stained woman looking back at her. She shook her head, walked to shower and for a while she let the hot water wash away her guilt and pain.

She then dressed and walked out into the hallway, briefly glancing in the direction of the stairway leading to Solas’s chambers. In a haze, she moved forward to where the desk stood and chairs were tossed to the side. Rook stared at the chairs blankly and didn’t bother righting them; instead, she went into the parlor. For a moment, she stood in front of the mantlepiece and looked at the many pictures of her family; she lovingly touched the one of her daughter, then picked up the one of Maran placed beside it. What would he say to her if he could see her now?

“You look so much like him. It’s uncanny,” Solas stated as he approached her from the other side of the room.

Rook startled, then shrugged slightly at the suggestion. “We aren’t even related and are of a different race, but it’s true. We have the same personality too, both brash, bold and…” she said, as her voice trailed. “I was closest to him because we were so much alike. And yet, as much as I love Maran, I am a traitor to him, to my daughter, my friends, all of Thedas.” She looked him dead in the eyes. “I am the worst girl in the world.”

“Rook please,” he pleaded. “You’re not–

“I am, and it’s not just because I am in love with you,” she said, as she gently placed Maran’s picture back on the wall. “I am the worst girl in the world because if it were not for the love of my family, and had I known of your plan in the first place, I would have gladly joined you. And,” she laughed, “probably died among those at the ritual site…a true believer."

Solas looked at her with pained eyes, and approached her, taking his hand and brushing a stray hair from her face. “Please, Ava…”

“I’m sorry, that was poorly timed,” she said as she walked with her hand in his, leading them both to the couch. As they sat next to each other, Rook sighed, “But you are right, I will concede that. The elves are a dying people, benighted, living in the worst ghettos, or in roving camps, or in Tevinter as slaves. I don't believe that your end goal was terrible as self-preservation is not inherently evil.” She placed her hand on his cheek. “You are not inherently evil.”

“I am and it’s time to stop running from it or making pretty excuses," he muttered, his voice barely audible as he gazed into the distance, lost in the labyrinth of his mind. His thoughts swirled around the justification for his actions - the dogged pursuit of taking down the Veil and the cold calculation behind it. "Through the link we still share, I molded this home from your memories, earned your trust, made you believe in me, with the hope that you would take up my cause. I am no better than that envy demon I fought off you.”

Rook dropped her hand and turned away from him. A sharp pang hit her as did the realization that he still was using her as his tool. “So, I was nothing more to you than a scheme?” she asked, quietly wiping the tears from her eyes.

“Ava, please look at me.”

“I can't!"

He stared directly at her, his eyes holding a world of regret and longing beneath their vacant surface. “You are far, far more to me. As far back as the time when you were living in the Lighthouse and I was trapped here, it was happening. It did not occur to me until it was too late that I had begun to care for you far more than I should. And then I did what I do best–I retreated. I stopped reaching out to you, stopped looking into your memories, stopped listening. I shut you out so I could continue on.”

“Like you did with Lavellan,” she snapped. “That letter, those letters–”

“Were reminders of my poor behavior,” he said, while taking a deep breath. “I told you that once I cared deeply for the Inquisitor, but it wasn’t just her I lost. I walked away from her and all of my friends…Cole, Varric, and the Iron Bull. I was close to them, and I lost them all, one even by my own hands.” He stopped for a moment, thinking about the horror of what he was about to confess. “And Varric was not the only one. I’m sure you gathered from your time spent in the Crossroads that I killed my oldest friend, Felassan.”

“I didn’t know exactly what happened. But I can tell you that regret for your actions created more than a pretty mural, they created a whole damned Revenant that I and Emmrich had to fight.” She shook her head remembering how close she came to dying in that battle. “All I knew was that he was a general of some sort in your rebellion against the other Evanuris. What exactly happened?”

“The shortest answer is that I thought he had betrayed me.”

“Give me the long one; after all, it’s not like we’ve got any place to be,” she stated, glaring at him.

“Tis true, and since there is no point in holding anything else back, I will tell you what manner of man you have grown to love.” Solas closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then placed two glasses of water before them. “Felassan woke from Uthenera decades before I did. During his time in the waking world, he became familiar with and grew close to some of those he encountered. When I woke, I tasked him with taking control of the eluvian network and he did so with the help of a young, elven woman named Briala, who was able to get them linked and had created a passphrase for their use. When she attempted to share that passphrase with him, he refused her, knowing that I would take them over.”

“Why did he do that?”

“He had faith in her and her abilities, and I sensed that he had begun to doubt mine, or at least he had come to doubt my methods. I do not know more than that. And for such minor transgression, I killed my dearest friend and closest confidante.”

For a time, Rook sat in mute shock, unsure of what to say to the man sitting next to her. “While I won't lie to you and deny that it wasn't…terrible, I will say to you that I’m certainly no innocent.”

“You're a far better person than I, Ava Deste.”

“You think, but you don’t know,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m selfish to the core.”

“I think you are confusing selfish and selfless,” he said, with a slight laugh.

“It’s not that simple. You don’t understand because you don't know my motivations for doing what I do.”

“I thought I had,” he said softly. “After all, I had watched you for so long.”

“But you only saw what I remembered or what I said, you had no way of knowing what my true feelings were. You did not have the full picture.”

Rook closed her eyes for a moment. “Solas, during my fight on Tearstone Island, while the team were trying to reach Elgan’nan or Ghilan’nain, we needed to get through this room that was warded in order to stop that damned dagger from being made.”

“I let Bellara disarm the blood wards despite Neve being more skilled in that regard. She was better at that kind of thing and would likely have been faster, but I didn’t care. I refused to chance Neve taking the risk because she was not only my strongest ally, but also my closest friend. So, I picked Bellara to do it, and while it wasn’t disarming the wards that killed her, it did make her the person closest to the eluvian that Elgar’nan reached through. And he grabbed her and blighted her.”

“She didn’t die instantly,” he countered.

“No, and in the end, managed to save the lot of us, but the fact remains that I placed the safety of everyone in jeopardy for the love of a friend...and Bellara paid the price.” She took a deep breath then manifested a perfectly formed, large snifter filled with Antivan brandy. “You know, this isn’t exactly a water conversation...”

“I agree, though you could have made two.”

She glared at the glass for a moment then turned to him. “You can get your own since you’re so used to acting alone.”

“Fair enough,” he muttered. “Besides, I prefer whiskey. Though, if you are trying to display to me just how selfish you are, I would point out fallacy of that argument, seeing as you lost one of your fellow Wardens and along with one of the few surviving Griffons in Thedas during the same battle. That could not have been by choice.”

“No, it was not my choice; Davrin only died because he absolutely insisted that he be the one who took on the Antaam. I originally picked Harding to head the distraction team, and it was not just because she was a good scout.”

“Oh?” Solas raised an eyebrow ever so slightly as he was intrigued by this admission.

“No, it was a personal decision–another one. I guess part of me picked her because she and I were never close. In many ways she resented that I became Varric’s second despite all of her years with the Inquisition, and she wasn’t exactly shy about it during the time we tracked you.”

“I knew Varric well and am surprised he tolerated that. Did he–”

“Yeah, he gave her a real dressing down once when he thought I was out of ear shot. I could not help but smile. But as time passed, she and I learned to get along, we at least got along well enough at the Lighthouse, though I’m not sure she ever truly trusted me.”

“But you helped her connect to her Titans heritage.”

“No, your dagger did. I just dealt with the fall out.” She took a large swig of brandy, nearly finishing the glass. “When I saw the power Harding developed after just barely coming into contact with it, I became fearful–dwarves are not supposed to wield magic. And then when she saw those memories of the Titan's fall, she was so angry.”

“Justifiably so,” he contended. “What Mythal and I did was awful.”

“I agree, but you weren’t exactly within striking distance of her, were you?” Rook snapped. “Look, I was afraid she would lash out at me, and if not me, then later she would consolidate power with the other Dwarves in both Kal-Sharok and Orzammar, and when they learned the truth about what happened to the Titans–that you and Mythal were largely responsible for the Blight plaguing their Thaigs–well, I just thought that maybe it wouldn’t be the worst thing for the elves of Thedas if Harding died in battle.” She stopped for a moment as the horror of that statement finally hit her. Finishing the brandy, she murmured, “Let’s just say it was good that it wasn’t her that I ended up facing in your little Prison of Regret. The world might look a whole lot different now.”

Solas stared at Rook in disbelief. “I understand your reasoning, but what I can’t comprehend is how you were not trapped by your regrets?”

She sighed, looking past her glass to the far side of the room. “And that's the worst part of it,” she replied. “I wasn't trapped by regret because, at the time, I didn't particularly feel any.” She then placed the empty glass down and turned to face him.

“Solas, what you have failed to see since the beginning is I am your reflection, in both the monstrous and heroic. And while you are sitting there being terribly angry at yourself, I want you to think on this, who molded who with that link? Afterall, I am alive, learning to live in the Fade, and the Veil is still very much in place. I’m not exactly sure your big scheme is going to plan.”

A faint smirk played across his lips as he listened to Rook's clever jab, but beneath his amused exterior, her words struck a chord. “It has not. Although, as you have so tactfully pointed out, very few of them do.”

She looked at him and shrugged. “It’s not all your fault. Your plans are generally solid: start a revolution, lock up the Evanuris, bring down the Veil, but there is always one aspect that knocks each of your efforts off base and that is the will of other people; or at least planning around what other people might do. For example, you did not anticipate that the link with me would be such a two-way street.”

Solas marveled at her astute observation that his emotional isolation might have blinded him. His thoughts drifted back to the countless times his schemes had unraveled due to unforeseen variables--the stubbornness of the Inquisitor, the cunning of Coryphaeus, and now, the unexpected resilience of Rook. A quiet introspection stole over him, as he finally grasped the root of all his failures. “I don’t quite have the hang of you mortals.”

“You don’t, but I still like you,” she said, leaning over and planting a soft kiss on his cheek.

He flinched. “I am not sure if you should–”

She pulled back and retreated to her corner of the couch; his rejection felt as sharp as a slap to the face. Her mouth twisted in a distinct frown as she replied bitterly, “Well, if that’s how you want it–”

“No... you do not understand--I do want you!" he's said, reaching out to her. "I want to be with you, but I destroy, and I take–”

“Then stop doing those things! Stop being that person!”

“As if it is that easy!” he snapped, feeling the full force of defeat. “Ava, this body, this form that you see before you were created by her and for time beyond reckoning, I have acted in her service,” he stated, motioning to the shard of Mythal that rested so comfortably on the mantlepiece. “I do not know where the mission ends, and the man begins! And because of that no one--no one should get too close!”

For a time, they sat in a sad silence on the couch, both at a loss for words. Rook, being unsure of what to say and frustrated by the stillness of the room, finally rose and walked into the hall, her footsteps echoing softly against the hardwood floor, to the chairs that were still lying on their side. Wordlessly, she righted them then turned to see Solas standing behind her staring with an expression of both melancholy and yearning.

“I’m not sure I have a choice in that,” she mused. “Tell me, Solas, were you to sever the link now, what would happen to me?”

With a furrowed brow, he answered somberly, "You would live. I would lose my connection to you. You would likely be able to leave this prison—"

“But would be just as likely to die without your aid and assistance in the raw Fade.”

Solas nodded then reached for her hands and grasped them tightly. “Ava, you are incredibly strong, but living in the Fade is new to you. And what you have seen doesn’t even begin to cover the sheer number of wonders and horrors that reside here.”

Rook stepped back, dropped his hands and leaned against the desk; she then remembered a previous conversation they had about how many people in Thedas would have perished had he been successful in bringing the Veil down. “The number was higher than thousands, wasn’t it?”

“Yes,” he admitted, then turned slightly, unable to meet her gaze. “I was lying to you, to Varric, and to myself. The reality, knowing what I know now in witnessing you coming to terms in living here, is that maybe only a few thousand would have survived the Veil falling.”

“That makes more sense,” she said, as she shook her head. “And what of you? What happens to you if the link is severed?”

“I am not sure. With the link we share I can leave this prison, and though I have the dagger, I am unsure if that alone could free me.”

Rook took a deep breath. “Well, as I’m not quite ready to die in the raw Fade, and as I’m sure you really don’t want to chance being trapped for the next millennia, I guess we are stuck together.”

He sighed. “I would not have put it in such a way, though, I would agree that we are bound to each other for the foreseeable future. Though Ava, please know, if there was a way to free you from all of this–”

“Then maybe you would–I get it, truly,” she shrugged. “You know, I could stand without being in her presence and their judgement right now,” she said, as she looked to both the shard of Mythal and the portraits of her family. “Let's take a walk on some sandy beach where the stars can be seen. Just any place that’s not here.”

“I would like that,” he answered in a low voice. Solas then took her hand as they walked out of their home and beyond the prison into the Fade.

Continued: