Fandom: Dragon Age
Pairing: Solavellan
Chapter Rating: T
Chapter WC: 1765
AO3
Chapter 3
“Oh. No, no, no, no.” The voice wavers.
“Oh shit. Shit, I’m so sorry,” Mary-Beth says though she’s not sure who she’s apologizing to.
“It’s okay. Just—let me handle the cleanup.”
It’s then that the voice reveals a phantasmagoric shape. A woman. As Mary-Beth looks into the woman’s eyes, colors begin to appear and this woman is a reflection of herself. There’s a few minor differences here and there. She’s an elf. But the features are so similar. Blue eyes reflecting sun on the ocean, fiery red hair, freckles everywhere, curvy shape and broader shoulders. Even the height is the exact same.
“Who—who are you?”
“Ah, yes. I forgot I haven’t properly introduced myself. The name’s Sarya. Sarya of Clan Lavellan.”
“I’m Mary-Beth Trevelyan.” She pauses, eyes roaming over the woman. “Not to be rude but are you a ghost?”
“I find that term offensive though subjective. I’m closer to a spirit.”
“Oh. So a demon?”
Sarya sighs. “Again. Offensive. You’d think after all these years there would be some better education on the subject. Especially all that I—you know what, never mind.” She sweeps the remainder of the shattered crystal into a dustpan and discards it in the waste bin.
“The elven man here, he warned me not to come up to this room. Are you the reason why? You haunt this place?”
“First of all, I’m not haunting anything. And elven man—oh you mean Solas?”
“Solas—is that his name?”
“Was he tall, bald—“
“Yes.”
“Then yeah. That’s Solas. And maybe? I haven’t seen him enter this room in well, a thousand years? Perhaps longer.”
“You’ve been here for a thousand years?”
“Or longer.”
“How? Why?”
“If I’m completely honest, I don’t know. I have my theories. But nothing solid. I was hoping, by revealing myself, that you could help me find out. You did break one of my most treasured possessions after all. Would only be fair for you to help me out.”
Mary-Beth is more focused on the first half of the ghost’s rambling. “You’ve been here for a thousand years and you don’t know why? How is that possible?”
“I haven’t been able to leave this room. Solas knows I’m here, I’m sure of it. He has to know why. But I can’t ask him.”
Mary-Beth pushes some paperwork out of the way and plops down on the edge of the desk. “So why do you think I could help?”
“You’re not bound to this room. You can ask him for me.”
“And why do you think Solas can help?”
Sarya says, “Once upon a time we were the stars of a great love that burned bright. But then burned out.”
Mary-Beth can’t tell if the ghost is being sarcastic or serious but she continues to listen.
“The details are complicated and messy and really not necessary. He’s a mage and one that specializes in all things involving spirits and the fade.”
“Oh, he’s the one in the letter. That means—wait. He’s thousands of years old?”
Sarya sighs. “Yes. He’s very old.”
“And you’re in love with him.”
“Was. Was in love with him.”
“Your letter tells me otherwise.”
“That letter is something I never sent. I married Cullen, had a child, and lived a full and pleasant life. Of course, the magic of the anchor took me sooner than I would’ve liked. But I learned to love life without him.”
“Maybe he never learned to live life without you…”
Sarya gestures to herself. “You think?”
“Okay, say I believe all this ridiculous stuff you’re telling me and I go to Solas, what am I supposed to say? Hey, your girlfriend is trapped in the tower, do you have something to do with that?”
“Leave out the girlfriend bit and I fail to see the problem with that phrasing.”
Mary-Beth chuckles. “Well, something tells me the Solas you know is very different from the one I know. The man hates me.”
“Doubtful.”
Mary-Beth shakes her head then shifts her weight and leans forward. “Okay. So, how do I know you’re not a demon? That I can trust you?”
Sarya shrugs. “You don’t.”
“That’s not very convincing.”
“That should tell you something. I don’t know about you but most demons I meet always have a convincing sales pitch. Perhaps you should try trusting yourself? Go with your gut instinct.”
Mary-Beth twirls a lock of hair around her finger and chews at the inside of her cheek.
How can she trust her instincts when time and again, her instincts have led her from one toxic relationship to another? Self-sabotage at every turn and she’s just supposed to trust her gut? She sighs. She can help the ghost—spirit—whatever woman. She can try anyway. The worst thing that could happen is what? Permanent possession? Death? Though, from the looks of it, death isn’t even a permanent state. Meanwhile, the alternative offers hope and help to a spirit who longs for peace and deserves rest.
Sarya organizes the letters on her desk while humming to herself.
“Alright,” Mary-Beth says. “I'm going to trust you. Probably with more than I should but you want me to leave this room and talk to Solas, correct?”
“Yes,” Sarya says.
“And spirits, similar to demons, can possess a person, correct?”
“Not exactly possession. More like form a symbiotic bond.”
“Yeah that sounds like a fancier version of possession.”
“As much as I enjoy arguing over technicalities, I’d rather not continue to waste time. It’s not possession. I have no desire to use your body to stay in this world. I want to move on.”
“Okay. Okay.” Mary-Beth shrugs, surrendering. “Well, what if we do that? Form a symbiotic bond or whatever. Then you can wander any part of the castle you want and speak with Solas. He’d probably be more receptive to your presence than mine. You’d find your answer of why you're here then he can fix the problem.You finally get peace and I’ll hopefully be able to leave this castle. We’ll part ways and have our happy ending.”
Sarya nods. “Yes. I can see it. Though, you want me to form a bond with you even though, not even a minute ago, you weren’t even sure if you could trust me? Interesting.”
“I know what it sounds like. But if you’re telling the truth—which I’m choosing to believe you are—then your bond will break as soon as you can rest. Seems simple.”
“I see your point. Though I’m still judging you.”
“That’s nothing new for me,” Mary-Beth says.
“Well, then I agree.”
“Okay, great.” Mary-Beth smiles. “Just one last thing. We need to get this done quickly. I would like to enjoy what remains of my vacation.”
“You’re supposed to be on a vacation?”
“Yeah. In Haven. But I got lost.”
“You sure did. Unfortunate for you but fortunate for me.” Sarya comes around the desk to stand in front of Mary-Beth. “Very well. I’m more than happy to get this over with as you say and I’ll even sweeten the pot, make sure you don’t leave before you have the proper directions to Haven. Deal?”
Mary-Beth grins and holds out a hand. “Deal.”
“Shall we begin?”
Sliding down from the desk, Mary-Beth lays her hands in Sarya’s outstretched palms.“Yeah. What do I need to do?”
“Close your eyes. This might feel a little strange. I don’t know, though, I’ve never done this before so bear with me.”
She closes her eyes and waits but doesn’t feel a single thing. “Well, what are you waiting for?”
“It’s done,” Sarya’s voice is her own.
“That was much quicker and easier than expected. Please no funny business while you’re in there.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Sarya says.
“Okay. We’re off to find Solas then.” Sarya in the body of Mary-Beth, takes off down the stairs, her heart feeling lighter. But there’s another, deeper, sinking feeling that works its way into her stomach. She shrugs it off and she searches the castle for Solas, finding him in the library tucked away in the lower recesses of the castle.
—
“Solas?”
Lying the dusty book down on the table, he turns at his name, not uttered in thousands of years. How Mary-Beth came to know it, he has no idea. But he’s determined to find out.
“How did you–“ But the answer becomes clear as he focuses on her face. He sees it. Feels it. The likenesses therein. It’s the way she runs her finger above her lip, along the invisible scar that isn’t on this body but was on her own. “Sarya?”
Tears are brimming in her eyes as she steps closer, reaching out and placing her hand to his face.
“I have waited so long for you to see me. I’ve never left you,” she tells him.
There’s moisture in his own eyes as he takes her in his arms. Impossible to resist holding her once more. “You should have left me. You should not be here.”
“How can a mortal rest when her heart belongs to a god?”
Solas pulls her into his chest. His heart throbs wildly, whether from joy or pain or the inescapable reality of none of this being real, he doesn’t know. But he holds tight, just long enough to feel the warmth of her body. Enough to feed his starved soul. He pulls away, gripping her by the shoulders to look at her. It isn’t Sarya he sees. Sarya’s spirit, though rare and marvelous, is not the same in the body of another. It does not belong here.
But it has been so long. Though not exactly the same, he can fool himself into believing it’s her. There’s just enough of her. He could have it all.
One touch. One kiss. One last time together.
“This cannot be. It is not right,” he tells her, his sense returned to him.
“But it is. Mary-Beth and I, we made an agreement.”
“No. No.” Solas shakes his head. “You are not Sarya. You cannot be. A demon, I presume.”
“Solas,” she whispers through pained sobs. “I am me. Please, don’t keep doing this. Don’t rationalize me away!”
“Begone from me, demon!” he shouts at her.
Sarya, in Mary-Beth’s body, trembles. “Solas, please,” she begs. “Don’t do this. Don’t do this to me again.”
“Go,” he demands, casting dispel.
There is a gentle gust of wind that sweeps around him before Mary-Beth faints. He crumples to his knees, embracing her in his arms and combing her hair behind her ears. He sobs in quiet agony then gathers the strength to carry her to the rotunda.
