Fog curled through the dark forest as you walked hand in hand with Solas, the distant waterfall blending with the rustling leaves. You stopped before the waterfall. His hand cupped your face, warm and gentle.

“I was trying to determine some way to show you what you mean to me.”

Withdrawing his hand, he hesitated.

“I’m listening, and I can offer a few suggestions.”

“I shall bear that in mind.” His smirk faded. “For now, the best gift I can offer… is the truth.”

“You are unique. In all of Thedas, I never expected to find one who could draw my attention from the Fade.” He paused. “You have become important to me. More important than I could’ve imagined.”

You smiled softly. “As you are to me.”

Solas sighed. “Then, what I must tell you… the truth.” A hesitation. "Your face, the vallaslin.” He paused. “In my journeys in the Fade, I have discovered what those marks mean.”

You tilted your head. “They honor the elven gods.”

“No, they are bond markings. Or, at least they were in ancient Arlathan.”

Your breath hitched. “My clan’s Keeper said they honored the gods.”

“Yes. A noble marked his slaves to a god he worshipped. After Arlathan fell, the Dalish forgot.”

Your voice broke. “So this is just one more thing the Dalish got wrong?”

“I’m sorry.”

You swallowed hard. “We tried to preserve our culture, and this is what we keep?”

Solas softened. “Don’t say that. For all they got wrong, the Dalish did one thing right. They made you.”

“I didn’t tell you this to hurt you. If you like, I know a spell. I can remove the vallaslin.”

You hesitated, then nodded. “Then cast your spell. Take the vallaslin away.”

Solas instructed you to sit. His magic shimmered, and the markings faded. Silence stretched before he whispered: “Ar lasa mala revas. You are free.”

He helped you up, eyes warm. “You are so beautiful.”

His lips met yours in a soft kiss. Then, he pulled away, his expression darkening.

“And I am sorry. I distracted you from your duty. It will never happen again.”