Fear: "Dirth ma, harellan. Ma banal enasalin. Mar solas ena mar din."
Speak, rebel! You care for nothing but victory. Your pride will be your death.
Solas: "Banal nadas."
Nothing is inevitable[
Oh FFS, Solas. If you die doing whatever it is you're doing, Lavellan will be so mad at you. There will be some serious Orpheus and Eurydice shenanigans, except instead of sweet singing, it will be all the angry yelling. She will literally yell you back into existence against all the laws of the cosmos, then punch you in the face.
EDIT because writing moronic banter makes me happy:
Lavellan: Look, I get that you're the creepy "Friend of the Dead" and probably really pissed off at Solas, but give me my f***ing boyfriend back!
Falon'Din: No.
Lavellan: OK, buddy. Your funeral. *screams Bananaphone at the top of her lungs*
Several hours later...
Falon'Din: Mercy! Mercy! The Dread Wolf is yours, just stop that infernal racket! Oh, and don't look back at him until you're out of the Fade. Or he'll disappear or something. Ugh, this headache.
Lavellan: See? This was so f***ing easy. We out.
Solas: Vhenan, I--
Lavellan: Solas, if you don't STFU right now I will punch the living daylights out of you. I will then lock you in a tiny closet with Sera, some silly string, and a bag of pure sugar.
Solas: ...
Lavellan: I might also punch you anyway.