Solas Appreciation Week
Day 4: Evanuris
@thelighthouse-server
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Solas Appreciation Week
Day 4: Evanuris
@thelighthouse-server
Solas appreciation week 2025 @thelighthouse-server Day 8: Free day
and why not Solas with Sauron's crown. The dark lord is here
The General / The Apostate
Solas Appreciation Week 2025 @thelighthouse-server
I pulled you from the Fade you loved and sent you into war.
Solas Appreciation Week 2025, @thelighthouse-server Day 1: Fade/Dreams
RULES AND SPECIAL MESSAGE FROM GDL UNDER THE CUT
Solas Appreciation Week 2025
Prompt: General
I used your wisdom as a weapon... and it broke you.
Mythal: It is time Solas. Strike the Titans now while we still stand. Solas: We cannot justify this Mythal. There must be another way. Mythal: Do not falter now. Not when we need you the most. Where is your loyalty, if not to your people? Solas: Do not speak to me of loyalty. We are better than this. Mythal: Yet you found us no better option, did you? It is too late for debates. Let us end this war, once and for all. (Mythal hands Solas the dagger.) Mythal: Do not abandon our people now Solas. Please, do not abandon me. Solas: (Solas, looking forlorn, takes the dagger, contemplating it, then walks forward with it in his hands, about to sunder the Titans). Forgive me.
Background song from soundtrack here.
Victories, Regret, Atonement
for Solas Appreciation Week — Day Six hosted by @thelighthouse-server
Solas Appreciation Week 2025 @thelighthouse-server
Apostate / General
"Do you feel any fear?" Lavellan looked at Solas. Fiery ribbons twisting in the campfire cast shadows on his wary face and lingered in glints on the sparse raindrops on his hood.
"What are you speaking of?" Solas looked at Lavellan expectantly. She caught herself noticing how, under the shade of the hood, his eyes looked darker than usual.
"An apostate… Every mage is an apostate now. In my clan…" She broke off and shifted her gaze to the fire before them. "When I belonged to the clan, a mage, the Keeper’s apprentice, I always felt in place. None of us cared about human rules. Now… I belong to a different world, their world, I fight under the banner of a Chantry force, many see me as a herald of their belief, and I'm an apostate. I could face death under different circumstances… Same for you." She faltered for a moment, then continued. "I know only little about you, but… you are an elf without vallaslin. You are not a Dalish. A mage. Never been in the Circle. An apostate working for the Inquisition. And, Solas, if you had stayed outside the Inquisition, danger could have awaited you"
Lavellan fell silent and looked at Solas again. He listened with full focus, rolling a sprig of spindleweed between his fingers. She spoke of intricate matters, of a world created by him, of their part in it, of him and his feelings. Solas sensed her attempt to reach into his past and his stance toward the surrounding world. She laid a path of trust, step by step, approaching the unraveling of his inner borders. A heavy weight for a single halt by a campfire on a raw Ferelden night. It took him a few seconds and two breaths to answer her.
"The whole world would be in danger if not for the Inquisition," he said with a half-smile, and noticing the shadow of disappointment on Lavellan’s face, he continued:
"But, you are right. Being an apostate has always been dangerous, yet survival was possible if one lived quietly and avoided trouble."
"Oh, you mean your encounter with the Dalish clan?" Lavellan smirked with a barely perceptible challenge, and Solas received that audacity as a subtle contribution to easing the tension.
"Perhaps. You are Dalish too. Maybe my troubles are not over?" Lavellan laughed softly, leaving his question unanswered. Solas, after a pause, went on:
"I have never considered what it means for me - to be an apostate. Everything I have done and continue to do here is necessary for creating a better world for everyone. In my journeys through the Fade, I sought knowledge that could help answer many forgotten questions in human, dwarven, and elven history, and in lost ancient magic. I found solace in the company of spirits in the Fade. Among them, names were unnecessary. In these journeys, I realized that it matters not at all what others call you, Herald, Inquisitor, apostate, if you believe in your purpose. You sacrificed your past life for a higher goal. Is not your goal, the salvation of the world and its restoration to true, healthy state, above all fears and any names?"
Lavellan lowered her gaze, letting each of Solas’s words pass through her.
"I have not succeeded enough in my purpose to forget fear, and I have no spirit-friends who care not for names," Lavellan concluded.
"Perhaps, one day, you will meet one." Lavellan gave Solas a skeptical look.
"And how will I understand that before me stands a spirit who wishes to befriend me rather than possess me?"
"I will help you discern it."
Suddenly, Solas tossed aside the spindleweed twig that had been fiddling in his fingers, turned, and reached for Lavellan. His warm hands touched her fingers and gently closed around them.
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