A/N: Post game. Spoilers. Duh.

Mostly he stayed away from her dreams. Mostly.

Even he, stubborn and prideful, could learn a lesson if it was painful enough and taught often enough.

The first year when he reached for her dreams, he found only sorrow and heartbreak so deep that it threatened to shatter his own heart. Still, he couldn't keep entirely away, and he found himself seeking out her dreams far too frequently. It was threatening his control over the power he'd stolen from Mythal. The remnants of the goddess slumbered inside him, and when she felt Lavellan's pain, it stirred her need for justice. He couldn't fight both his own desires and the goddess at the same time.

So he turned his path to the west.

The further he travelled, the harder it was to see into her dreams. He took a perverse pleasure in that as he found hidden and lost eluvians and slipped in and out of the Crossroads, plotting how to correct his grievous mistakes of the past.

Years passed as he walked the Crossroads, studying the mirrors with their prisoners. So focused on his task was he that he paid no mind to which eluvian he stepped through. He stopped and looked around, surprised to find himself back in the Hinterlands.

Curiosity was too strong a temptation to pass up, and he made his way down the mountain and through the villages. Prosperity had returned to the land. Flags of the Inquisition still waved in front of small villages, proclaiming their protection.

That night, he slept in the woods and leafed through the memories of the past. He stopped when he saw the Herald of the Inquisition ride through the village. It was only a year or so ago, and he smiled as he saw love the villagers showered on her. The Bull, Dorian and Cassandra rode alongside her, and he smiled again as he saw the easy way they laughed and joked with each other.

Emboldened, his dreaming self wandered further afield. He was closer to Skyhold than he had been since the final battle with Corypheus, and the temptation to look into her dream was too strong.

Hands brushing over bare skin. Lips kissing. Legs entwined with another. Passion burning bright.

Gasping for breath, he tore himself from the dream. He sat upright, and with a broken groan, he buried his face in his hands. It was what he wanted, he told himself. He had his lonely path to walk. He purposefully walked away, knowing that mortals forget. He knew she would move on. He didn't know it would hurt so much.

He couldn't stay. The eluvian took him back to the Crossroads. For a moment, he considered uthenera, but it was a pointless daydream. The People needed him. He couldn't forsake them. He had already sacrificed two hearts to his cause. He couldn't let Lavellan's pain be for naught.

He stalked the misty Crossroads and began crafting the spell that would unravel his mistakes of ages past. But even with Mythal's essence still slumbering inside him, he lacked the necessary power to complete the spell. If he'd been able to reclaim his orb...but it lay shattered and useless.

When it broke, he had tried to reclaim the power that Corypheus had stolen, but magic, fickle thing that it was, choose instead to go to the familiar. Like a faithful hound going to its mistress' side, his orb-bound magic flowed into the anchor on Lavellan's hand. She wasn't a mage, and he doubted she even felt the increase in power, but it made him even more keenly aware of her. Worse, it meant he couldn't put his plan into motion as long as she was alive. He needed his power but the anchor was too strongly bound to her.

The thought of killing her to regain his power was reprehensible. She was mortal. Compared to his own long lifespan, she would flourish like the mayfly, burning brightly for a few years before passing beyond. He could wait. He was patient. The years and mistakes had taught him that much at least.

He amused himself by traveling the breadth of Thedas and watching the Inquisition's influence grow.

In Orlais, Briala was the first elven noble but she wasn't the last. Humans complained and fought. The third elven noble was assassinated, but it didn't stop the wave of change started and sustained by Lavellan as more elves were elevated to the nobility.

Divine Victoria dissolved the Circles. Mages were free to come and go from their places of learning. Dwarves, elves and qunari were welcomed to the Maker's chantry. The assassination attempts against the Divine were ruthlessly stomped out.

Under Lavellan's influence, the Dalish began accepting their city elf cousins. They still marked their faces, but encouraged by her stories, some of their Firsts became Fadewalkers, exploring the Fade and their history. They began to build a culture that went beyond isolated, racist clans.

Doubt began to seep in. Where the Dalish had surprised him by producing her, he saw Lavellan creating the conditions to allow more like her to flourish. For the first time, he wondered if it was possible for his People to build something new that would be a worthy successor to Arlathan. And she was doing it without the gods. Without him.

Then the qunari and war came to Tevinter. The Inquisition mobilized again, and once again the Herald of Andraste rode into battle. There were new faces in her companions to replace those who had left. Like him, he thought as the pain of separation tore through him again just as painfully as when he first walked away. As the moth is drawn to the flame, he found himself drawn further north so that he could watch over her.

He knew she suspected something when her dreams became prophetic, when she awoke knowing where the qunari forces were located. For the people of Thedas, it simply cemented their belief that she was the Chosen of Andraste, blessed with divine knowledge of their foes and leading the Inquisition forces unerringly against their enemies.

She was on the northern coast, near Carastes, when he felt his stolen power flare within him in a way that he hadn't since he had sealed the gods away a thousand years ago. A sick dread filled him. There would be only one reason why the power that was so firmly attached to her would be leeching back to him. Swiftly, he cast his wards and entered the Fade.

He found her easily. Her image was shimmering, only partly in the Fade. "Vhenan," he whispered, but she heard him, and a smile appeared, transforming her into a radiant visage. "Solas!"

She ran to him, as graceful as ever and wrapped her arms around him fiercely enough to squeeze the breath out of him. Not that he minded. He held her just as closely, buried his face in her chestnut hair. She smelled of leather, elfroot, and blood. She had been in battle. "Ma vhenan," he murmured over and over as he stroked her back.

"I knew you were nearby," she said as she pulled back just enough to look at him. Her eyes softened and she gazed at him with the same love he remembered from the grotto just after he removed her vallaslin. Just before he broke both their hearts.

"I could not stay away," he admitted. "I tried. My task..." He had to stop when she placed a finger over his lips.

"Shhh. The past is the past, Solas. You can't change it. You can't fix it."

"I must try," he said in anguish.

"Let it go. Just as I did. You made your choice, and I had to accept it. Although I will admit that it took me a long time to do so."

"I am so sorry for hurting you," he choked out.

"I wish you had come back, Solas."

"I almost did. So many times."

A tear rolled down her cheek, and he softly swept it away. "It's too late now, ma sa'lath," she whispered.

"No!" He held her shoulders and looked at her, seeing how her spirit was slowly strengthening in the Fade as her life drained away in the waking world. "There must be a healer near you! Potions. Something."

Her eyes unfocused. "Dorian is trying, but healing is not his specialty. The wound is too large for potions to help." She held up the hand with the anchor. It flared bright green and arcane energy arched toward him. "It's connected to you," she stated.

"Yes." He wrapped his hand around hers, feeling the power flowing from her to him. He cupped her cheek with his other hand. She was dying. She deserved to know the truth before she passed. "The orb was mine. It held my power. When you picked it up in the Temple, you stole Corypheus' spell and became linked to my orb."

"And when the orb shattered, its remaining power came to me instead of you," she said, then smiled lightly at his look of surprise. "You think because I'm not a mage, I couldn't feel the difference? You don't know everything, Solas. Pride is the corruption of wisdom, after all. But then, you aren't truly Solas, are you?"

"With you, I was," he whispered. "With you, a mortal man was all I wanted to be."

"And now?"

"Now I must atone for the mistakes I made in my youth," he said miserably, wishing with all his heart that he could have been the man she thought he was.

"And is what we had still real?"

"Yes, ma vhenan. You changed the world. You changed me," he whispered against her lips.

Her kiss was soft. Her lips were warm against his. In the Fade, he could feel her breath mingling with his own and wept inside that her marvelous light would soon be extinguished. She broke the kiss and leaned back to look at him. "Why stay away? If you were waiting until I died to regain your power, why not spend those years at my side?"

"At first, I didn't realize what had happened. I thought I could find another source of power. I tried to untangle the spells with what I had. Then when I realized where my power was, years had gone by. You had moved on. I couldn't hurt you again." His gut hurt so badly that he thought he must be feeling her wounds. Surely heartbreak couldn't be this painful, could it?

She closed her eyes in pain. When she opened them again, he saw her amber eyes glowing with love for him. How could she still love him after all he had done to her?

"It was always you, Solas, in my dreams. I thought you would see, that you would come back to me. I would wake in the morning and feel my heart break all over again when I realized you were still gone. How could I take another lover when my heart had wandered off with you?" she said as she kissed him again. "How I've missed you, ma nehn, ma lath."

Those missing years. One more tragic mistake in a long life of many such mistakes. He finally broke. He gathered her in his arms and wept against her hair. Fragments of elvhen spilled from his lips - apologies, excuses, promises of love. Even through closed eyes, he could see the pulse of light that signaled when a soul finally lost its connection to its mortal body. Soon she would pass beyond, and he would lose her forever. He forced himself to open his eyes, to witness the last moments with his love.

Green light, thrumming with familiar energy, swirled around both of them. He could feel the power flowing back into him, making him stronger, but it was changed. He stared at her. She had changed more than he ever thought possible. "Lavellan..." he whispered.

Her eyes filled with tears that overflowed down her cheeks. "It's aptly named, Solas. It didn't just Anchor reality. It Anchored your magic. And it Anchored me, as well."

He gripped her shoulders so hard she should have cried out in pain. "What are you saying, ma vhenan?"

"Vivienne and the Circle of Enchanters studied it quite closely. So did the Keepers. It's how I eventually figured out who you were. Fen'Harel," she named him, laying a hand on his cheek. She was glowing now, the green energy illuminating her skin and making her look more spirit-like.

He flinched when she named him. He had thought to spare her the agony of finding out who he was. He had thought to spare himself her anger and disgust. Instead, she simply smiled at him and it was killing him. "Vhenan," he started, but she quieted him.

"Hush, my time now is short." Then she laughed. "Or not, but I may not be able to converse with you again. I am the Anchor, Solas. It has bound me to you."

His eyes widened in horror. After all he had done to her, now he was responsible for denying her the beyond as well? He fell to his knees, inadvertently dragging her down with him. "Ar ir abelas," he wept.

"I'm not," she said. "I will be with you again, my Dread Wolf, part of you. And I have a boon to ask of you before I go."

"Anything," he promised, the impending loss making him desperate to keep her, to ease her pain, to do anything for her.

She cupped her hands around his face, stroking his temples with a feather-light touch. "Let the past go, Solas. It's gone. It's done. Focus on the future. I know it's hard," she said as he started to protest. "I know the pain of past mistakes, of love gone missing. But it's a new world now, vhenan. I have worked so very hard to make life better for our People. For all people. Do not make my work in vain. Do not bring back the past. Teach us," she urged. "Show us the best things of our past. Let the rest lie undisturbed. Help us to make a better future. Please, vhenan," she begged him.

He wanted to howl his grief and denial to the skies, let it rip the Fade asunder. How could she ask such a thing of him? She had no idea how long he had been trying to atone, to correct his mistakes. They still lay hidden, locked away. It was his fault. How could he possibly turn his back on his brethren? And yet, this mortal in his arms was proof of the potential of this strange new world.

She pulled him closer, pressed a kiss to his forehead as a benediction, as forgiveness. He was unworthy of such love. She didn't know him. She only knew the facade he had presented, and soon...soon he would be unable to hide from her.

She was incandescent now, growing ethereal in his arms. She pressed her lips to his one final time. "My love. For always."

And then she was gone.

But not.

After a thousand years, he was complete once more. He was as strong as he had ever been. Stronger. Mythal's power still simmered inside, but now there was more. He felt his power flooding back, settling into old, familiar patterns. Coming home. But he couldn't rejoice. He waited, tense with anticipation for the anger and loathing that he was sure would come when Lavellan's spirit understood the entirety of who he was and what he had done.

It never came. Instead, a sweet loving warmth spread throughout him. He closed his eyes and listened, and could almost hear her. Nothing could be hidden from her. Not memories, not thoughts. She sensed his apprehension and soothed it as her spirit settled against his. He clenched his hand against his chest, wishing with all his might he could touch her again. He felt her laugh and a ghost of a hand touching his.

Together again. She was part of him now. She didn't talk in words, but he understood her. Emotions, feelings, desires. She saw through his eyes, and in turn he gained a new understanding of the waking world. Suddenly the future looked more enticing than the past, even if she was gone from the world.

He stayed like that - kneeling, mourning, loving, and being loved - until the morning sun woke him from his slumber. He climbed to his feet, feeling simultaneously ancient and youthful. The weary part of him despaired anew at the sight of a world without Lavellan. The newer part of him embraced the day, eager to to continue what had been started, to build on the past and to make something better than had ever existed before.

Unexpectedly, he found himself smiling at the day. "You change everything, ma vhenan."

A whisper floated through his mind, a memory originally tinged with grief and changed into something new, a promise of something better. "Ar lasa mala revas." And for a wonder, he finally was.

Uthenera: Eternal waking dream
Ma sa'lath: My one love
Ma nehn: My joy
Ma lath: My love
Ar ir abelas: I'm so sorry
Vhenan: (endearment) Heart
Ar lasa mala revas: You are free