Post-breakup Solavellan because I am a glutton for punishment. Wanted to do a brief little piece where the companions help you feel better because anyone who thinks that Adahla’s weird patchwork family didn’t band together to get her smashed and help her work through it all can fucking fight me. That being said, that’s a lot of people Iand I don’t know if I juggled that well at all but here it is, hope you like it. Elven translation in the tags.
Upon returning to Skyhold Adahla went straight to her rooms without stopping. She heard a few people call after her but after a long journey of palatably heavy silence she desperately needed just a little more time to be just a woman and not the Inquisitor. She did not run, but she was quick with the way that she walked, stiff and hurried. Somehow being here made it all so much worse. She felt as though she had been shattered, like a mirror dropped on it’s back and fractured a thousand ways but physically still together. She fumbled with the door handle a little before she managed to close it behind her. When she heard the sound she raced up the walkway, like she could outrun the hot stinging in her eyes or the sharp, hot pain that thundered in her chest.
She threw her room door open and slammed it behind her, only then did she let out the breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. She ran her hands over her face and back through her hair, roughly yanking it out of the tight bun she kept it in. Tears raced down her cheeks as she angrily stomped up the stairs, unclasping her cloak and throwing it onto her bed. She looked frantically around her room, then raced to the balcony doors, throwing them open and stepping outside only to sink to the floor with her back to the wall when she finally made it outside.
“Hot pain, red hot needles pierce your chest, shattered like glass. Creators it hurts,” Adahla didn’t need to look up to see who it was, she knew that gentle, breathy voice, “You trusted him to let him change you and then he did and then he left, ‘Ar lasa ma revas’ ‘You are so beautiful’ then why did he go?”
Adahla sniffled, giving a little nod as she wiped one side of her face with the heel of her hand.
“Breathe. You’ll die if you don’t breathe,”
She let out a startled laugh, reaching out with her right hand, which he took.
“He was the one thing you got to choose for you and you chose wrong. But you didn’t. He loves you. Loves you so much that it hurts.”
A knot of iron formed in her throat and she squeezed his hand, with a little sob, “I wish I could believe that, Cole,”
“You don’t need to. He knows so it’s real,”
She chuckled, wiping her face with her left hand, “Thank you, Cole.”
“You still hurt. Sharp like a dagger in your lungs, aching like bruises on your skin where you used to touch.”
Adahla nodded, taking a shaky breath, “It will be like that for some time, Cole.”
“You will get better. You are strong, you are brave, and you are kind.” He said, gently squeezing her hand, “Everyone loves you and they want to help. You were hurting too much to go to them right away. They’re coming up the stairs now, to see you, to help.”
There was a knock at the door, “Hey Boss, the Kid says you needed to see us. You okay in there?”
She gave Cole a little eye roll before she stood up, wiping her face dry with her soft gloves, “Who’s with you?”
“Just’a ‘bout everyone. ‘Cept Solas. And Josie, Cullen, Leliana, y’know, the people who don’t have all day to stand outside your stupid door.” There was a soft bang following Sera’s voice as the door was kicked in, “Brought drinks!”
Sera, Varric, Iron Bull, Vivienne, Cassandra, Dorian, and even Blackwall came up the stairs, quietly shutting the door behind them.
“My dear, you look dreadful. What happened?” Vivienne was the first to say anything, coming up and wrapping her in the warmest hug, “Sit down, darling, we’ll open the wine.”
Adahla swallowed hard and sniffled, allowing herself to be led to the large bed and sat down on it. Bull wrapped a heavy blanket around her shoulders, lightly patting her back. Sera climbed onto the bed, holding three bottles by the neck in each hand, Dorian snatched one from her, popping it open and sniffing the cork.
“Suitable for a heartbroken drinking stupor, I suppose,” He smiled gently at her, “It gets easier.”
Cassandra took a seat next to her, a hand on Adahla’s knee, comforting, “You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to. We’re here for as long as you need us.”
“If you’d like I think I still have a few stories I haven’t told you yet,” Varric offered quietly, then pulled out his own flask, “Or we can all just sit around and get shitfaced with you, that works for me.”
Adahla bit back another sob, feeling tears start to roll down her cheeks again.
“Oi, no cryin’, you,” Sera thrust a bottle into her hand, “Drink instead,”
“Just enough to get you back together,” Blackwall lightly pushed Sera before he went to sit on her couch, “Brought some cards in case you wanted to play.”
“No way, Beardy, we’re gettin’ drunk as drunk can get,”
“Then you brought the wrong shit, Sera,” Bull grumbled, taking a seat on the edge of her bed next to Dorian, “I’m not gonna get drunk on that.”
“Lucky for us it doesn’t take me much,” Adahla smiled and took a swig right from the bottle, enjoying the pleasant warmth that bloomed in her chest.
Vivienne took the bottle from her, taking a drink of her own with a slight grimace before she passed it across to Cassandra, gently pulling Adahla into a warm, almost motherly hug.
“You will never be alone, my dear, no matter what happens.”
“I’ll drink to that,” Varric gave her a warm smile before taking a quick gulp from his flask.
“‘Ear that? You’re stuck with us,” Sera nudged her, snatching the bottle from Cassandra, taking a gulp before passing it to Dorian, “Eugh. What is that shit?”
“More expensive than every piece of clothing you’ve worn in your life put together, I imagine,” Dorian took a drink, offered it to Bull, who refused, so he took another.
“You shouldn’t insult the wine, darling,”
Adahla chuckled, extracting herself from Vivienne to take another swig of whatever it was. She didn’t care, she didn’t need to right now.
She was hurt but that was okay. She wasn’t alone.
....
“She’s better with the others there.”
“Thank you, Cole,” Solas stood alone in the little library, he could still vividly remember the feel of her, the taste of her tongue in his mouth.
“Wild, sweet, pressed so close I can feel her heart fluttering, like a bird, I-”
“Cole, stop,” He ran his fingers along the old spines of the books, like she had when he brought her here, “Adahla may yet recover but mine is not a hurt you can heal.”
“You can. You can go to her, tell her what you meant to. It isn’t too late yet.”
“I cannot!” He snapped over his shoulder, then he sighed, burying his head in his hands, “I cannot.”
“You are better when you are not alone. You are better with her, almost whole.”
Solas took a shuddering breath and straightened himself, swallowing the iron in his throat, “I know that, Cole. That is why I cannot stay.”
“You could let them go, Solas.”
“I know.”
There was a soft little whoosh, like wind, then the spirit was gone. In the welcome absence of company he finally allowed himself to collapse. He sunk to the floor, leaning against a bookshelf. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. His chest felt like his heart had been marked with a firebrand, needle sharp iron gathering in his throat again as he finally allowed himself to mourn the loss of her. His sobs tore at his throat like razors, his chest felt tight, like his lungs were being squeezed with a vice.
“Ir abelas, vhenan. Ar lath ma melanada, ma serannas ar mirthadra ma mala lath, Adahla Lavellan. Ar arla mala lath dareth mir vhenan.”
