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When Rath told the truth about himself—breaking down and confessing after one too many conversations with the dashing Tevinter soldier that stuck by the Iron Bull's side—Solas, for one terrible moment, felt himself be swayed by the people around him, by the Inquisiton struggling to cope with this information about their leader, by the shock and whispers. Those foolish mortals, who didn't understand just how much these words they used and their appearance were just that, words and appearances, and everything could be changed if they wished it to.
To fit into this world so removed from Arlathan, he could have been cruel and callous, looked at his lover and told him he was not a man, and could not be one if he wished to be. That what was inside him did not matter, and only the outside, what fate had given him. was of importance. But he already did not fit into this world, and never would, much less so with his plans.
So instead, as they spent time together in Rath's bedroom, he extended his hand and stroked his thumb over his cheek. The boy was like a newborn pup, stuck in the fluids of afterbirth, youthful and pathetic. Yet, there was a spark of intelligence to him, a hunger for knowledge, a love for discussing magic. He bloomed around Solas in a way he didn't with anyone else, both outliers and outsiders to the rest of the Inquisition—most everyone else was Andrastean, to begin with.
"You are such a beautiful boy," Solas told him. Rath closed his eyes, tears stuck to his lashes, a picture of beauty he wanted to keep in the Fade forever. "Do not mind what anyone says. They are fools, to not understand the ways one can change to fit what is inside."
Rath cleared his throat and leaned into his touch blindly, a soft sigh leaving his mouth. "You know of this? Of… people like me?"
Solas did not think of himself. He made the effort to push away from his body and the fluidity of spirithood, of being everything and nothing. How now, physical and tangible, he was constricted to being a man. Whatever that meant—the constriction of such a role was unknown to him even during his rebellion; he had to learn of it once he awoke in the present.
"Of course," he said. He rubbed his thumb over the tough grey skin of his lover's cheek. "I have seen many things in the Fade. Bodies shift and change to fit what is inside often—this is just one way that happens. I find no issue with it."
Rath let out a wet, soft sigh and leaned forward to kiss Solas. A gasp got caught in his throat and he had to relax his shoulders and lean into it with purpose. Affection like this, gentle and free, always caught him off guard. His hand cupped Rath's cheek as he pressed his lips onto his own, gently prying the boy's mouth open to lick over sharp teeth.
When they pulled away from each other, Rath was struggling to breathe, tears shining over his soft eyes. He lacked the fury and strength of his kind completely—domesticated by a force greater than whatever made the Qunari such great savages (dragon blood, perhaps, but he'd never been able to confirm this). Solas appreciated his gentleness, anyhow. There was something refreshing about it, after an existence marked by death and war.
"I was worried," Rath admitted quietly, closing his eyes as tears silently danced down his cheeks. Solas leaned in to kiss them away before he could think better of it. "That you'd think me wrong, damaged, confused. Push me away. Or worse."
"Never, vhenan," Solas whispered into his skin, the lie hot on his tongue as it was salted over by his tears. "You are just as you are. I could not fault you for it."
And Rath, incurable fool he was, finally hiccuped out a sob and wrapped him in his big arms, trying and failing to make himself smaller to settle his head into the crook of Solas' neck. He pushed himself upward to fit the position he wanted, falling down onto the bed and allowing Rath to squirm down until he could hide.
"There," he mumbled. He reached a hand up to play with Rath's hair, fingers dancing over one of his horns, teasing around the bottom of it in a way that made him go lax into his arm. "I am sorry you have to keep hiding to the public, vhenan. Your role is one of great sacrifice, is it not?"
Rath sniffled at that and pressed himself all the harder into the crook of his neck, like he could make himself fit there, hide inside Solas' skin. Perhaps if he could, he would allow him to.
"But I will be here," Solas continued. "You can be a boy here, with me."
He would not be there forever, but before he left, before Rath died like so many others would in the wake of his plan, he could give him some happiness.
He thought idly of Felassan, of laying on his back and allowing him to make a spot for himself inside him. Much like he'd allowed Rath to make a place for himself in his heart, as much as he'd tried to avoid it. To not get attached to the beast carrying his Orb by his own mistake. But with his sweet, gentle disposition and soft eyes, it was impossible to avoid liking him, just a little too much for comfort.
Rath looked up from his spot after a while. He smiled, face covered in tears, and kissed Solas.
"Thank you. That's all I could ask for."
He could ask for much more. Solas knew this. Perhaps he'd let him, some day soon, before their time together had to come to an end.