Chapter Text
SOLAS
The next morning, Zore moved about as loudly as possible, delighted when he flinched. Petty. He ignored her and kept eating his breakfast silently, but she persisted. Nuria shot Zore with a pointed look first, and when that failed, the rogue got a strong elbowing. Zore merely shrugged, eyes dancing with mischief as she continued. She just shrugged and continued.
Arvan was trying to assess him instead, asking questions that were at one time appropriate for the situation and too much, even for a gossip.
“What kind of mentor were you to her?” He leaned casually, teasingly, with a hint of a sexual innuendo, but his eyes were sharp.
They had a cover, quite simple really. Kael was a traveler, five years prior he ended up in a village near Lord Aldridge's country mansion and met Ilia. He stayed for a while, mentoring her and the lord’s court, then left. Simple, and hiding ‘the truth’: they were actually both mages from the same Circle of Magi. He was her mentor, they both escaped after the Templar-Mages war turned the whole circle into chaos, lost sight of each other, until they met there at the Alienage in Kirkwall.
Arvan was poking through the first layer “She has a brilliant mind wasted on serving tea and tending hearths. She deserves more” he remarked pointedly, his voice a shade more intense than he might have intended. Nuria’s face was unreadable as she stopped eating, setting her flatbread down with a quiet finality, and stood as if to leave.
But Solas rose at the same time.
“I believe I have a project to attend to,”
“I need to work on a project now” he said pointedly, his gaze locking with Nuria’s. They conducted a full conversation silently. She gave in and sat back, taking a bite of her bread defiantly, holding his gaze the whole time.
Satisfied, Solas turned to leave, only for Arvan to fall in step beside him, clearly unperturbed. "So," Arvan ventured, his tone conspiratorial, "how long have you two been together?" There was a hint of overconfidence in his voice, as though they were sharing some private joke, something Solas had no intention of indulging.
Solas paused, turning his gaze on Arvan with an unyielding chill. "My personal affairs are not up for discussion, Arvan," he said evenly, his tone brooking no argument. “If you will excuse me, I have work to complete.”
Without waiting for a response, Solas turned on his heel, leaving Arvan to watch him with a raised brow and the hint of a smirk.
-
INQUISITOR
That night, on her way back from work, she heard Zore's furious voice carrying over.
“You will not take advantage of the situation. Are you fucking joking ?”
Alarmed, Nuria rushed into the apartment, quickly shutting the door and casting a sound barrier around them. Inside, she found Solas seated at the table, his expression calm and unreadable, while Zore stood over him, hands splayed on the table, her eyes blazing. If looks could kill, Solas would already be on the floor. Nuria glanced between them, feeling tension simmer in the air.
“What’s going on?” she asked, keeping her voice level as she moved closer.
Zore whipped her gaze to Nuria. “These rings,” she bit out, “are supposed to protect you. Solas has finished enchanting them, but he says he has to wear one, too. They look like wedding bands, Nuria! Fucking wedding bands .”
Nuria’s eyes fell to the table, where two simple silver bands rested side by side. She sensed no magic radiating from them; Solas had masked their enchantment well. Her stomach twisted. If they each wore one, the implication would be clear. She turned to Solas, struggling to find the right words.
Solas met her gaze, his expression steady.
“It’s a standard protective spell, but it requires both rings to work. One alone is useless without the other.”
Zore’s frustration was palpable, her voice rising. “I get that the spell needs both, but why this design? It’s too...personal. It looks like something else entirely. How can you think this won’t cause complications?”
Nuria felt her pulse in her ears, her ears ringing as she tried to ground herself.
A nightmare, she thought.
Surely this is just a nightmare.
But she was a Dreamer, and she couldn’t fool herself.
She took another step into the room, focusing on Solas’s words. His tone was calm, practical, as if this were a simple decision and nothing more.
“The design is deliberately subtle,” he replied. “The enchantment requires both rings to be made from the same material and crafted together to bind them effectively. Creating two distinct objects would take much longer to be as effective. The rings need to match to function as intended.”
Zore’s eyes narrowed, her voice more similar to a roar. “But why you? This was supposed to be about Nuria’s protection, not…whatever this is. It feels more like a commitment than a spell.”
Solas remained calm, his tone steady. “I understand your concerns. It’s merely a tool for protection, not a symbol of anything more. The design is practical, but I assure you, its purpose is solely for safety.”
She observed them, but it all felt so far away from her, so far removed from reality. Her body didn’t feel her own, so it wasn’t difficult for her rational mind to take over. Somehow.
Zore, I appreciate your concern, but Solas is right. He is the strongest mage in the Inquisition, and the rings need magical proclivity to be used correctly.” She didn’t even need Solas to confirm it. Something as complicated as that couldn’t be handled by a non-mage.
Zore took a shaky breath, looking at Nuria, her anger slowly giving way to something else. “Fine, I understand the spell,” she said, her voice softer now, but her eyes still focused intently on Solas. “But don’t think for a second I don’t see what this means. You knew how this would look, and you did it anyway.”
Solas returned her gaze, his face carefully blank. “My only concern is Nuria’s safety. I’ve done what’s necessary.”
With a final exasperated sigh, Zore threw her hands up. “Necessary. Right.” She glanced at Nuria, a mixture of exasperation and concern lingering in her eyes.
Nuria reached out, placing a calming hand on Zore’s arm. “You said it yourself—I’m the one who can’t die before Corypheus is defeated. He’s targeting me directly now, and I need to be tracked.”
Zore sighed, her gaze flicking to the rings with reluctant acceptance. “Fine. But I don’t like it. Just…don’t let him use this as an opportunity, Nuria. You deserve better than this…bastard.”
“Zore!” Nuria widened her eyes, shocked.
Zore only shrugged, crossing her arms as she shot Solas a steely glare. “He deserves it.”
Nuria, feeling the mantle of leadership settle over her, took a breath and stepped forward. Zore’s hands relaxed slightly as Nuria’s calm but firm tone took over. “This is crossing a line, Zore. I appreciate your loyalty and concern, but we are on a mission, and I won’t allow personal grievances to tear this team apart. If I can be civil, then you must be as well. Is that understood?”
Solas opened his mouth, an objection on his lips. “There’s no—”
“Do not interrupt me,” she said firmly, extending a hand in his direction to silence him.
Zore clenched her fists, muttering under her breath, “So much for friendship.”
“We are friends, but the mission comes first,” Nuria replied, her tone measured and steady. “In these situations, I am the Inquisitor before anything else.” Her heart ached with the reminder that leadership demanded restraint. She longed to be as free with her feelings as Zore, but there were costs to carrying such responsibility. Zore unclenched her fists, relenting just enough to sit down with a grudging sigh.
Nuria took a seat at the table between them, her gaze moving to Solas. “How do these rings work?” Outwardly calm, she masked the storm within. The sight of the rings twisted something in her, as if they were symbols of a cruel joke, mocking her hopes with a reminder of what she couldn’t have.
Solas took a steadying breath, his voice careful and deliberate. “There are several enchantments on your ring. A tracking spell that allows the wearer of the matching ring to locate you at any moment. There’s also a detection spell, alerting the other ring if you’re in physical danger, and a faint protection spell. I couldn’t imbue a stronger one without making the magic noticeable. No one should be able to detect it as anything more than a simple ring.” He held up the ring, rolling it between his fingers before setting it on the table. “If there’s an emergency, tap the ring three times on a hard surface, and the other ring will be alerted.”
Nuria nodded, staring down at the ring that now felt like a shackle—a reminder of dreams she would never reach. “Zore, could you please check with Loran about the preparations?” She kept her gaze fixed on the ring, unwilling to see any more of Zore’s silent fury. She barely noticed as Zore left, perhaps with one final glare at Solas.
When the door clicked shut, she finally lifted her gaze to meet Solas’s. The atmosphere had shifted, tension softening into a quiet intimacy, neither of them speaking for a moment.
Solas’s expression softened as he met her gaze. “Thank you for understanding,” he said gently.
Nuria took a breath, her voice more unsteady than she wanted. “I need you to be honest with me.” She cleared her throat, willing her voice to steady. “Did you…choose these on purpose?” Her gaze fell back to the rings, which only looked more like wedding bands the longer she looked at them.
Solas picked up her ring again, turning it thoughtfully in his hands before setting it back down. “No. I chose them because of their simple design, and silver is a particularly good conduit for magic.” He hesitated, glancing at her with a hint of reluctance. “In my time, wedding rings weren’t customary. I knew of the symbolism, yes, but I didn’t assume that anyone wearing matching bands would be seen as married. If it bothers you, I can work with other materials, though it will take longer.”
He moved to gather the rings, his face unreadable but with the faintest shadow of the sting of rejection on his face. He had no right to feel rejected by her.
"Wait," she said, softly.
Solas paused, his expression guarded, as if bracing himself for whatever she was about to say. There was a flicker of something in his eyes—hope, perhaps, or fear—but it vanished as quickly as it appeared. He waited, his hands still, though Nuria could see the tension in the way he held himself.
"I..." Nuria’s voice trembled, and she cursed herself for not being stronger, more composed. She cleared her throat again, forcing herself to meet his gaze. "Let's be done with it.” She concluded, taking a deep breath and bracing herself for it.
She hesitated for a moment, then took her ring. Solas shook his head “You have to take mine and slip it on my finger” he explained practically.
Nuria widened her eyes, and Solas grew irritated. “Is that part of the ceremony?”
Nuria nodded “You don't know that?”
He gave a short shake of his head, an almost frustrated gesture.“I have observed and learned much, but wedding rituals are not my area of interest”
For once, she was the one explaining something to him. “In our ceremonies,” she began, her voice cool and mechanical, “the couple exchanges vows of eternal love, receives a blessing from the officiant, and then slips the rings onto each other’s fingers, sealing the union with a kiss.” She spoke quickly, eager to be done.
“It wasn’t so different in Arlathan,” he offered, surprising her by sharing a piece of his past, talking about Arlathan openly. “Except we left a magical signature on each other’s…aura, I suppose. Anyone could feel the bond.”
It was rare for Solas to speak so openly of Arlathan. For a brief moment, his guard was down, but then he looked at her with concern, a softness in his voice that caught her off-guard. “Are you truly alright with this? I don’t wish to hurt you more than I already have.”
Nuria took a shaky breath, the weight of the ring heavy in her hand. “It’s fine. Let’s just do it.”
Nuria hesitated, the silver ring feeling heavier in her hand than it had any right to be. She looked at Solas, tense, as if bracing for rejection, for her to run. He observed her, a myriad of emotions going through his face, like he was realizing right there and then what that gesture meant for her, something foreign in his head that was only now starting to take significance.
Her heart pounded in her chest, louder and louder, but she steeled herself. It was just a ring, just a tool for protection—nothing more.
She reached for his hand, her fingers brushing lightly against his skin as she guided his palm upward. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver down her spine, but she pushed the feeling aside. His gaze never turned from her, but as she took the ring in her finger with a reverence it didn’t belong to the practical meaning of that gesture, his face turned pink. Slowly, she slipped the ring onto his finger, the cool metal sliding into place with a soft, almost imperceptible hum. The magic was taking place. She felt her energies being intertwined with the ring, like it was being connected with her essence exclusively. She suspected that if anyone else tried to use the ring, he would know.
But as she withdrew her hand, her fingers lingered, unwilling to let go just yet. The sight of the ring on his hand, a symbol she’d once imagined under such different circumstances, cut deep. The gesture felt too much like many dreams she dared to indulge into of a future that was simple, happy, full of that connection that they were trying so desperately to sever. She felt so pathetic at that moment. He left her, refused her twice, and still she was so desperately in love with him. She knew he still loved her, but he managed this way better than her.
She couldn’t help but look up to him and his expression had completely changed: gone was the confusion, replaced by a tenderness and a love that were undeniable. His blush had deepened, and it was a rare sight to see him like that, affected and defenseless. He was always so in control, so tightly wrapped in his duties and sins, that when he slipped out, in those rare moments, he looked like a completely different man.
This was what she was looking at: a Solas so different, that only she had access to in private moments. A Solas that was expressive, unguarded, undone by his feelings. A Solas that was just a man. Blushing, tender, looking at their hands like the ring on his finger was a foreign and exciting artifact, and something precious at the same time.
And then, she was met with a shy crooked smile that made her heart jump. It was an expression she had never seen on him. His fingers brushed against hers, slowly, and he said nothing. It was no wonder how intimate it felt—how wrong it felt for it to mean nothing and everything at the same time. Solas' hand twitched beneath hers, but he didn’t pull away. His eyes were fixed on hers, deep and longing, and she found herself captured once again, by the eyes of the Wolf.
Neither of them spoke. Nuria’s breath hitched, her heart racing with a mix of emotions she couldn’t quite name. She could feel the weight of the situation—the symbolism, the implications—pressing down on her, but she couldn’t bring herself to say anything.
Solas was the first to break the silence. His voice was low and tender, delicate and fragile. "Nuria..."
She swallowed hard, her eyes still locked on his. There was something in the way he said her name that sent a ripple through her, there was a tenderness there, a vulnerability she was used to seeing in him. It was a promise she couldn’t name, something of a time lost, that only he remembered.
"You don’t have to do this," he said quietly, though his voice betrayed the faintest tremor. "If it’s too much, we can find another way."
Nuria shook her head, her voice barely above a whisper. "No... it's done."
Solas nodded slowly, but his gaze lingered on her, as if searching for something. He didn’t move, didn’t speak again, and the silence stretched between them. Nuria felt her heart stutter in her chest as the weight of the moment pressed down on her, her hand still resting against his.
Finally, Nuria pulled her hand away, the cool air rushing in to fill the space where their hands had touched. She felt the absence keenly, a hollow ache settling in her chest. Solas' gaze followed her movements, he said nothing, his expression was unreadable, his eyes betraying nothing once again.
She turned to the second ring, the one meant for her. It sat on the table, gleaming in the dim light.
Her fingers hovered above the ring, but before she could reach for it, Solas gently took her hand. Her breath hitched as he lifted the ring from the table and turned her palm upward, just as she had done for him moments before.
His movements were careful, deliberate, and unbearably intimate. As he slipped the ring onto her finger, his touch lingered longer than necessary, the cool metal settling against her skin with a finality that sent a shiver down her spine.
Nuria's heart raced, and for a moment, the room felt smaller, the air between them charged with something she couldn’t name. His eyes were fixed on her hand, but it felt like he could look directly in her heart. She couldn’t look away, couldn’t break the quiet intensity that had settled over them.
When the ring was finally in place, she felt the magic taking hold, taking a tiny spark of Solas' magic and tying it to the ring. It belonged to her now. Solas held her hand for just a second longer, his thumb brushing lightly against her skin. The gesture was so small, so fleeting, but it spoke volumes.
"There," he said softly, rasply, his voice delicate like that moment. "You're safe now."
Nuria felt a rush of emotions, a mix of longing and resignation. The ring symbolized so much more than protection. It was a tether, a connection to him that would never be what she truly wanted it to be. Her eyes locked with his once more, and they mirrored the same emotion she felt. It wasn’t about what they wanted. It never was. What they wanted was something they would never have. And even if they regained it…her hand didn’t throb anymore, but she was under no illusion that the anchor would just sit there quietly and never bother her anymore. He would just be tethered to a dying woman. Maybe it was one of the reasons he stayed away.
Solas slowly released her hand, the absence of his touch leaving an ache in its wake. His eyes never left hers, and she saw the distance aching in his eyes. She felt the need to touch him again. She had to do something before the compulsion turned into hurt and rejection again.
"Thank you," she said, her voice steady despite the feeling of her emotions inside her pushing out, choking her.
Solas nodded, his expression retreating behind his mask of cold politeness, though there was a shadow of sadness in his eyes. "I will keep you safe," he promised quietly, and though his words were meant to reassure, they were just a way to say I love you. Both of them knew those feelings could never be fully expressed.
Nuria looked down at the ring on her finger, trying to suppress the emotions threatening to overwhelm her. This was for her protection, nothing more. But in her heart, it felt like so much more than that. It felt natural and out of place at the same time, and she felt the faint trace of his magic in it.
Solas rose from his chair, his movements slow, deliberate. “I need to go if I am to keep my promise” she nodded, but she wanted to shout. She didn’t want him to keep that or any promise, she wanted them to act like they did before. The witty banter, the sarcasm, the quiet understanding, the discussions of philosophy and magic. She missed that even more than the romance at times, and now that he was there they had been in this endless cycle of sadness, anger, and anxiety, unable to interact with each other. She could never have what she wanted, but maybe they could try second best.
Seeing him leave with shoulders slumped made her body protest. He was Solas. Pride. He really incarnated his name. He didn’t want him to feel as miserable as she felt. She wanted to feel something that wasn’t painful every time she saw him. Even if she was destined to forget. Even if he had secrets she desperately wanted the answers to.
“Solas” she interrupted while he was making for the door. He stopped but didn’t turn.
“Do you think…we will ever be able to act normally around each other? I really miss…that part” and it’s the only one she can wish for openly.
He partially turned with a slanted smile and paused and for a moment; he said nothing, as if he were considering all the implications of her question, and then he turned fully, meeting her gaze. His expression was softer, the carefully constructed mask he wore slipping just enough to show the man beneath.
"I miss it too," he admitted, his voice quiet.
Nuria nodded, her chest tightening. It felt like such a simple thing to wish for—to be able to speak with him without the shadow of everything unspoken hanging between them, without the walls he had built to protect himself from her.
"But," Solas continued, taking a deep breath, "I cannot say with certainty that we will ever return to that. Things have changed between us. It was my doing.” After what happened between them just being around each other. Was it too much to ask for?
"I don’t expect everything to be the same," she said, her words laced with the same resignation that she had been feeling since the moment he had broken her heart. "I just don’t want to feel...this weight, whenever we’re around each other. To feel that every interaction is laden with tension, hurt, anxiety. I don’t want us to be strangers." she fidgeted with her ring, and his eyes followed the gesture. She stopped.
“We will never be strangers. But we can try, if you wish”
“If I will forget anyway, I might as well try and be friendly in the meantime” friendly, never friends. They could never be just friends.
Solas's expression softened at her words, and for a moment, he seemed to weigh her suggestion with great care. "If that is what you desire," he said slowly, "then I am willing to try. But I will not pretend that it will be easy. We must navigate this new terrain with caution."
Nuria nodded, her heart racing at the prospect of rebuilding something, anything, between them. "I understand. I don't want to pretend either, but I miss the connection we had—talking about everything and nothing, sharing ideas. Even the teasing." She allowed a small smile to break through her solemnity. "I miss that part of–" she let her voice fade. Us. she couldn't bear to use the word
Solas looked thoughtful, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly as if he were recalling those lighter moments. "As do I. Perhaps we can find a way back to that, step by step." His gaze turned serious again. “But” his voice faded as well. They were having a conversation even in those unsaid words, their silences just another language to converse in.
"I know," she replied softly. "I just want to be able to share a moment without feeling like we're on the edge of a chasm."
His eyes held hers. "Then let us begin anew, as best we can. But if at any point you find it too much, you must tell me."
Nuria's heart swelled at his concern, a flicker of hope igniting within her. "I promise. And you should do the same. If it feels like too much, we can reassess."
He nodded, a slight tension easing from his shoulders. "Very well. I will strive to meet you halfway."
Just then, a familiar smile tugged at her lips. "What if we start with a game of chess? I’m still convinced you cheat with those ‘strategies’ of yours."
Solas's expression brightened, a hint of mischief creeping back into his features. "Cheating is a harsh accusation. I simply employ unorthodox methods."
She laughed lightly, the sound a balm against the heaviness of earlier. "Unorthodox, sure. But I’ll take you on, Hahren. Let’s see if your ‘unorthodox methods’ can withstand my newfound skills."
As they set up the modest chessboard, one of the few unnecessary items in the home, the atmosphere shifted, becoming lighter. Each piece they moved felt like a step toward something new, a tentative dance that neither of them fully understood yet. The need to be close blinding them to the prudent choice: just ignoring each other as much as possible, limiting contact as to avoid temptation.
“Prepare to lose,” she warned, a playful gleam in his eyes.
Solas smirked and said nothing, smug and prideful enough with his expressions he didn’t need to say anything in response. It was on.
And for the first time in a long while, as they began their game, the laughter came easily, mingling with the hope that maybe—just maybe—they could find their way back to each other, friendly, never friends, but still near each other, still basking in each other's company.
As they played, the banter flowed naturally between them, each move on the board sparking laughter and gentle teasing. Nuria couldn’t remember the last time she felt so light, the heaviness between them gradually transforming into something more familiar and comfortable.
With each piece she captured, she caught glimpses of Solas's concentration, the way his brow furrowed slightly, and how the corners of his mouth twitched in amusement when she outmaneuvered him. It was intoxicating, this dance of strategy and wit, and as the game progressed, she could feel the undercurrent of something deeper bubbling to the surface.
“Check,” she declared triumphantly, a smile breaking across her face as she leaned forward to examine the board.
Solas’s gaze flicked from the pieces to her, a mix of surprise and admiration in his eyes. “Very clever. But I believe you have left your king exposed.”
Nuria raised an eyebrow and looked up at him. “Is that so? Perhaps I enjoy living on the edge.” She meant it as a joke, but as she folded her arms, their eyes locked, and the playful tension shifted, deepening into something charged. She could see it in the way he regarded her, the way his breath hitched ever so slightly as he held her gaze.
“Perhaps it is I who enjoy the thrill,” he replied, his voice low and smooth, sending shivers down her spine.
She shot back in her seat, fighting the blushing, and moved one of his pieces away from the board, the one protecting the king. It was stupid cheating, it was a mindless move, an attempt at breaking the charged moment between them borne out of a short fuse in her mind. He sat back with a slanted playful smile, and she met his eyes defiantly.
“Now we're even” she declared, dropping the piece on the table as punctuation.
He said nothing, fingers forming a triangle in front of his mouth. He was staring at her with the look he had when he was trying to keep himself from pouncing on her. She knew that heated look. She often enjoyed the consequences of provoking him enough to ignite him. She felt charred by his expression, burning where his eyes landed. In turn, she couldn't help but stare at the ring at intervals and him. The elegant way in which he held himself, his slender hands, his defined jawbone. She couldn't help but be drawn.
It meant nothing, it must. Nothing had changed between them, and yet she touched her own ring with her thumb, the band already blended with her own temperature. He wasn't hers. He made it hard to remember.
“Is it even, though?” he mused, his silky voice low and raspy, deliberately teasing. “Or have you simply opened the door for further chaos?”
Stop it. This isn’t friendly.
But she couldn’t talk.
Nuria tilted her head, the challenge in her gaze reigniting that spark that he offered. “Chaos is what makes the game interesting, isn’t it? Or do you prefer predictability?”
He smirked, savoring her words like he would a fine wine. With careful, reverent abandon and his analytical mind dissecting what made it great at the same time.
“Predictability can be quite comforting. But chaos…” He allowed the word to hang in the air, its implications lingering between them. “Chaos can lead to great pleasures.”
This is when Zore came back through the door, stumbling slightly at seeing him there. Her eyes darted to their hands, noticing the rings.
She said “It's late” towards Solas.
It was time. Before something else happened.
They had never been strictly friends, finding a way to be only that would be difficult.
He raised, smiling lightly in her direction “We'll call this one even, lethallin. We should both rest” he turned to Zore with the same expression, despite her hardness. Nuria stood and took Zore's hand, leading her away from the door. She then turned towards Solas and said “Good night hahren” managing a perfectly neutral and amicable expression, but lacking the courage to look him directly in the eye.
Zore took the hand that had the ring on and examined it distastefully. She said nothing and dropped her hand, then headed to the chess board, leaned on the table and asked.
“What are you even doing?”
“Trying to figure out a new normal. We can't go on like that, since he came we've been too on edge. If we let personal affairs come before our mission, we'll fail. We cannot fail. And I’m tired of fighting Zore. Tired of the tension. We all have to drop it.” Zore shifted but said nothing.
“I should really retire early today. I trust Loran followed the list?” Nuria was ready to talk about something other than Solas, her personal issues were becoming the center of too much attention.
“He did” She was angry and worried, and it was understandable.
“Good then. Good night. And…think about it, please.”
She entered the bedroom smoothly, but her heart was pounding in her ears again. It had all become too much.
The rings, the lingering touches, the constant flirting—it was like nothing had changed. It felt as though they were back to where they started: before the confession on the balcony. Flirting shamelessly, circling each other without acknowledging what was so clearly between them.
Solas held back, keeping himself from taking her, as always. Meanwhile, Nuria was caught in the middle, alternating between keeping up and fumbling helplessly.
Would that be the new normal? It couldn't be, it shouldn't be, it wouldn't be. Especially not with the others around. But she felt her whole body ignited with desire, screaming to run after him and run her hands over his bare chest, making him shiver with a touch of lips and teeth right…
No.
She couldn’t take it, but she was the one that started it. If they gave in again it would change nothing, just renew the suffering. Her body needed relief, so she chased it, alone in her bed, picturing him in their moments of most intense intimacy. But it didn't calm her down.
Her mind raced until she finally gave up and fell asleep. That night she willed herself not to dream. She needed nothingness in her head for a while. And if she met Solas in the Dreaming that night, she might have bad ideas. Sleep. Blissful mindless sleep.