Feelings Are Confusing And Contradictory - Tumblr Posts

happy friday! i am very intrigued by the solavellan fix-it au 👀sounds so juicy. so maybe ghilara/solas with the 'it's all about the yearning' prompt: ❝  when i’m with you i feel like myself.  i feel like every side of me is present and accepted.  and i feel good about it—  i feel good about who i am when i’m with you.  ❞ -broodwolf221

Combined with this prompt from @plisuu for my fix-it AU set after Solas' ritual is stopped (with no problems or anything being released) and Lavellan faking their deaths

Hope y'all like angst hehehehe :3 @dadrunkwriting

Under the Stars 766 words

CW: mild suicidal ideation

They were sitting just outside the cottage, a few steps away from the tangled and unruly garden, still being choked out by weeds. Their bowls from dinner had been long been discarded to the side, and even though the darkness had rolled in for the night, neither had moved to return them inside. “Do you ever regret it?” Ghilara asked. “Regret what?” “Surviving? That I saved you?” She was stretched out on her back, leaning her head against her residual limb and staring up at the sky, at the river of stars, a backdrop the two half moons. Solas was sitting up still, legs crossed and his hands resting atop them, his cane resting between them in the long grass. They were a hands breadth away, simultaneously the closest and furthest they’d been in near a decade.

Solas frowned, eyebrows furrowing in and glancing down. “Are you going to be alright if I answer that? However I answer that.” “I asked the question didn’t I?” “I suppose that is true.” His words hung in the air and he craned his neck backwards to look up at the stars above them. They seemed so far away; like a distant memory of youth, only half remembered. “Yes.” He answered. “Yes, I do regret it sometimes.” His voice trailed off, and he curled his legs up into his chest as if he were a pillbug. Ghilara could feel the hollow cavity in her chest where something used to be. She had grown around it. The muscles around it had grown so that most days she never lacked for anything, never felt the cavity. But it was still there. Always there. “Ir abelas Solas,” she whispered. He shook his head at her words, still staring up at the sky. “It is of no fault of yours, and I would not blame you, or resent you for what you did. I could never. It is just, so often it feels as though something is missing. I am not quite sure what, if I am being completely honest. Maybe it was faith, or purpose, or even just knowing what I wanted next. And I don’t know how to fill it again. How to replace that loss. And I know I must be the most ungrateful man in the world to resent a woman such as you saving my life. But when I feel that emptiness I sometimes wonder if it would have been better if I had died in that ritual. Died rather than put you through this.” She gazed up, pondering her next words. The stars were pale lights dusted across the deep black of the sky, with swirls of purple and blue dancing clouds through them. Beneath her she could feel the press of the soil- still warm from the sunny day, the tickle of grass on her bare skin. “Yeah, I understand. I feel it too. I wish I could tell you how to fill it, but I am as lost as you are.” She could hear the faint smile in his tone, “then let me turn the question round on you, Ilara. Do you regret it? That you saved me?” “Sometimes, yeah,” she sighed and was filled with warmth when Solas didn’t rush to fill it in. Silence spoke for them sometimes. The moons were cresting out over the forest now, where their tips had been peeking out from. They shed a quiet light over the plains, casting pale shadows from their bodies. “In those early days, when I wasn’t sure if you would live, I cursed myself over and over, for being so stupid. And even now, when its quiet, my thoughts turn to them. To Dorian, Varric, Merrill…Shirala. I wonder how they are grieving me. But I am glad still, that you are here. You’re one of the last people I could save who saw me. Every side of me. The leader, the fighter, the hunter, the mother, the Dalish, the failure, the success…the lover.” “And it is enough?” She wanted to reach out to him. To cross over the hands breadth distance between them. To hold his hand in her own, to feel his palms and his long fingers intertwined with her own. But she didn’t have it in her, she didn’t have the will. He might as well have been miles away. Instead she spoke. “No. It is not enough. But I do not regret it. And I would not change my choice.” They fell silent then, heads tilted back to look at the stars as they sat amongst the overgrown grass.