Doom Upon All The World

Chapter 33: Salvaged But Not Saved

      They arrived back at Skyhold and Solas had perked up only a small bit. Maeve was conscious though she didn't look it. She laid, lax in his arms as he carried her. Every now and then she would give a short grunt or groan as if pain. They all wondered if perhaps some of that blood was indeed their's. Noticing that Solas also seemed to be in pain set them all on edge. They would simultaneously seem to feel the ache as if it erupted from both of their bodies. When she whimpered at the sudden shock that went through her, he would give a tormented cringe of the face and look down at her, conveying his apologies for stepping wrong or not being gentle enough with a whisper in her ear. She would try to smile up at him but her efforts fell flat as their eyes landed back on Mythalus. 

      It wasn't until they were back in the courtyard that a brief twinge of a flickering smile graced Solas' lips. He watched with hope as Cullen laid Mythalus in his mother's lap. He'd set her down briefly to check his own wounds and attempt healing himself so that he could heal her. He observed as their son rolled over on her lap and opened his eyes. He squirmed causing them both minor pain but it was bearable upon seeing the green of his eyes. Neither of them had expected to see him wake for a few days at least but it seemed they were wrong. His body was adjusting to his abilities, conforming to the amount of energy needed to use it. Mythalus would still not be himself, wide eyed and energetic, for a day or two but he would recover much faster than expected. 

      The three of them went up to their quarters and waited for Dorian and Hawke to come heal them. Nicolynn had decided to stay downstairs with Anthony, having not wanted to leave his side since they'd returned. Everyone was weary of what to say, what to ask. Solas had said he would give them answers but their curiosity and dread burned inside of them. Maeve and Solas changed as Mythalus laid on their bed, barely awake. Maeve's tattered clothing dropped to the floor as she shrugged it from her shoulders. 

      Solas was wary of her. He didn't want to get too close, to touch her too intimately, to say something that would set her off. She'd been through a horrid experience. They both had but her's could have been far worse, would have been were it not for Mythalus. Solas hated himself for being so helpless and unable to do anything for her. He would have had to watch as that man defiled her in ways that made is skin crawl and his heart shatter, his entire being fill with rage. He didn't know what to say to her. How could he tell her he was sorry for being so incompetent? He came up behind her as she stood in front of her bureau, topless, rummaging through the drawers for something lose fitting to wear. He didn't put his hands on her, didn't make any move to touch her blood stained skin. But he did twirl thick strands of her dark brown waves around his fingers as she stood there. 

      She jumped just a little, flinching in slight terror at the sudden contact. He winced as her movement sent a shock through the matching wounds in their guts. But it was not just the pain that caused his cringing. It was the fact that she recoiled at his touch. It was something so light and easy, something he had taken for granted before and now something that he could barely do without frightening her. He was shirtless as well, the only clothing clinging to his tormented body being his leather trousers. 

     Maeve exhaled slowly and closed her eyes as she began to lean back against him. Her actions surprised him. At first it had seemed that she didn't wish to be touched, then she was leaning back against his bare chest, her flesh pressed to his. It was a gentle innocent contact that he reveled in. He was glad that she was able to trust him still. "I am sorry." She whispered with a somberness in her voice that felt like a dagger in his side. She was referring to her flinching away from him. She hadn't meant to do it. It came involuntarily as a first reflex. He understood though. "Don't." He muttered in response as he took her hand.