no guts, no voice, no bones
The Fade eased open around Nehri, embracing her like she was always meant to be there. The one place which would always hold a space for her, in both body and soul. Here, life was free of complications. Here, she forgets the pain of her waking moments, free to slip beyond the veil, whispering with spirits of Wisdom and Compassion.
And yet, even the Fade was different at Skyhold.
It felt old. Older than itself, she supposed. The veil beckoned her across, trapping her in unending nightmares. The souls of those who died at Haven screaming for mercy, absolution. Those she couldn’t save, begging for the Maker’s forgiveness. She was tormented. They weren’t her people - they would never be her people. But she felt responsible for them. She was their leader, and she failed them.
As she was pulled back into consciousness, she began to cry. Warm, wet tears rolled down her cheeks, washing away the dark kohl that painted her eyes.
“Da’len, you are above this. They are not your people.” Purpose chastised her, and she could feel the tinge of disappointment pricking at the back of her mind.
“They trusted me, and I betrayed them. They put their faith in me, however misguided it may have been, and I failed them!” She sniffles softly, suffering in silence as she has always done.
“Your destiny is not to lead the humans, child. Do not concern yourself with them. Their lives mean nothing.” Purpose’s voice fades as Nehri brushes her out of her thoughts, sitting upright in bed as she catches a glimpse of flickering candlelight at her door.
“Vhenan?” Solas’ voice floats through the silence like music, low and soft, easing the tension in her muscles. She allows her head to fall back on the pillow, tying a bow in the loose ribbons of her nightgown.
“It was just a nightmare, Solas. I’m alright now.” She still hadn’t quite recovered, brushing off the remnants of tears onto her sleeve. She could still feel the burning behind her cheeks, the pain in her heart.
As he approaches, she rolls to the opposite side of the bed, pulling back the covers and inviting him in.
“Will you stay with me?” She asks, only half-pleading. Her body quivers, a side effect of the night terrors she’d been plagued by. He clasps his hand around hers, slipping in beside her. His arms found themselves snaking around Nehri’s waist, his face burrowed in her neck.
“Of course. I am happy to oblige.” He sighs into her skin, perfumed and soft, remarkably flawless. Her hair was fanned out against the pillow behind her, draping over his shoulders. It smelled of incense and spices, memories etched into his mind like runes in a stone.
“To be honest, I... am not sure if I’m alright. Not anymore.” A moment of vulnerability. One single sentence, spoken in confidence. Her soft voice faltering on syllables she was once sure of. It was progress, albeit slow. He was proud.
“You have done well, vhenan. Your grief will pass. For now, you must focus on the future.” He runs his fingers through her hair and down the curves of her waist, marveling at her softness. How many thousands of years had it been since he’d felt her lips against his? The gentle touch of her hand at his waist? Her smile, as she leads him through a dance she’d known since childhood?
“I suppose I should.” She tightens her grip on her hand, nails biting into her skin.
“Sleep, vhenan. You have been through enough.”
“And what if the nightmares return for me?”
“Hush, Marigold. I shall protect you.”
“Marigold? My, my, Solas. You’ve been spending far too much time with Varric.”
“It is a lovely nickname. I believe it suits you well.”
“I... think so too. Varric does have a way with words.” Nehri sighs deeply, curling her legs up. “Solas?”
“Hm?” Solas hums, carding his fingers through her hair. It was impossibly soft, midnight-black and sleek as it glittered in the candlelight.