I got this from an anon today and thought it was cute…so thank you anon! I hope you like this prompt!
TITLE: The Fall of Fen Harel
He had all the power in the world, every last enemy, every fool who dare step in his way dissipated with just a flash, a blink of an eye. But every great ruler has his weaknesses and so the same was true of The Dread Wolf or so it seemed.
His greatest enemy came like a thief in the night, stealing the breath from his own lungs, plaguing him with gut wrenching pain and setting his head ablaze. Solas awoke in panic just as the contents from dinner past divulged itself upon the newly polished marble. It smelled something wretched and he tried to cry out for help but no sound passed between his chapped lips for even his voice was taken from him. He slithered from his bed only to be brought to his knees, there on the ground, clutching at his stomach just as another round of vomiting overcame him.
Sickness had come to claim its dues.
Solas attempted to call on the spirits for help but each time he pulled at the veil, it rebounded and snapped back at him, refusing to bend at his will. Apparently, he was even too weak to even rid himself of whatever toxins had staked their claim.
One of the guards outside his door must have heard the retching, for they knocked lightly on the door before entering.
“Hahren, you are not well!” It was Tareth who came to his side, lifting him and gathering him up in his muscled arms.
Solas managed to wipe his mouth with the back of his hand and a small cracked sound escaped from his swollen throat. It was one word: Sarya.
Tareth understood fully. After tucking him back under the covers in his helpless state and shouting orders to another agent to bring him a glass of water, Solas watched him access the eluvian in the west corner of the room; the eluvian that led to her. To his cherished Lavellan. He knew it was foolish to bring her here after he’d taken her hand and left her for naught. But he needed her and he needed her now.
Tossing and turning in his bed, it seemed like the night stretched on for endless hours with no reprieve. He almost prayed to the Maker out of his desperation but then Sarya appeared with Tareth. Her figure shimmered against the liquid glass that pushed away from her figure as she stepped through.
He was not surprised to see her angry but with one look at his pathetic state, her face softened and brows furrowed in pity. Whatever malcontent she held washed away with newly developed concern.
“Oh Solas. You look terrible.” She instantly knelt next to him on the bed, pressing the back of her hand to his forehead. “You’re very feverish, love. Let me mix up a tonic and see if I can’t help ease some of the pain. I’ll also have someone warm up a bath.”
He tried to smile but even that small movement caused him pain. She offered a sympathetic smile in return then gestured for Tareth to draw nigh.
“Could you have someone fetch him a bath and point me to your apothecary?” She turned back to Solas. “You do have an apothecary, right?”
He tilted his head down to signify yes causing him to explode from the inside out with a forceful sneeze.
Sarya pulled a small cloth from her pocket and brushed it along his nose. It was rather embarrassing for him to be found in such a state, yet he knew no one to better care for him than she.
“Yes, Inquisitor Lavellan, I can show you the way, if you wish,” said Tareth in response to her earlier question.
“That would be welcome and there is no need for Inquisitor—I no longer carry that title or burden, thankfully.”
Tareth acknowledged her request with a bow of his head then offered to lead the way from the room. Solas watched as her brilliant fiery curls bounced with each step before she disappeared from sight.
While they were gone, he wrestled with another bout of vomiting followed by ceaseless sneezing and a hopeless case of the chills. One moment he would feel as if he’d encased himself in ice and he’d pull the silken sheets and wolf pelts close to his body. But then the next moment it was as if he had poured flaming coals upon his head and could not escape them even if he tossed all the covers off the bed and stripped himself of a tunic. It continued this way until Sarya returned with a small vial in hand and laid a cool cloth across his forehead.
Her gentle fingers and calming touch helped guide him back to sanity. He watched as she popped the cork off the tiny vial filled with a green liquid.
“Drink this. It should help ease some of the pain, help you sleep.” Then she held the glass rim to his lips and tilted his head back ever so gently, pouring the liquid into his mouth.
It was bitter like that of a root vegetable but had a sweet aftertaste and went down smooth. He felt a relief almost instantly and weariness had settled into his bones. Before they could settle him into the freshly drawn bath, Solas fell asleep.
Sarya watched his chest rise and fall to the sound of her own breathing and she waved Tareth and some of the agents out of the room. Once they vanished from sight, she crawled in next to Solas and stroked his ears gently to guide him into a restful sleep. She didn’t care if she caught whatever he was suffering from. She only cared that she was with him, able to care for him. It was how things should be.
As the night passed on, she studied his face in the pale gleam of the moon that shone through the window. His angular cheeks were still flushed pink from the fever and she brushed a finger along the edges.
It was as she did this that he began to murmur, “you are so beautiful.” The words were rough—raspy even—but they were enjoyable no less.
“Thank you, Solas,” she whispered back only to receive a soft snore that whistled between his teeth. She realized he was talking in his sleep.
“You have changed me and I never want you to leave. Say you’ll stay by my side?” He mumbled a few more utterings and went quiet again.
Hot tears sprung forth from Sarya as she planted a kiss atop his head. “Always.”
She wept silently in his arms, hoping that he would not turn her away when morning came. Deep down she prepared herself for what might come, the worry causing her to have a constant dull ache. But as time passed and she lay within his arms, sleep took its hold on her and she drifted away into her dreams.
Eventually morning came and Solas awoke to see her still next to him. He still felt horrible but he felt more alive than ever to have his Sarya at his side. This time he vowed to never let her go. So he wrapped his arms around her tight and kissed her temple while whispering, “Ar lath ma, vhenan (I love you my heart/home). ‘Ma’sal’shiral (You are my soul’s journey).“