Things never seemed to go according to plan.

Solas lamented this fact as he gazed warily at the unconscious girl that lay crumpled on the cold stone floor of the dungeons. He dimly wondered why a Chantry building, a place meant for worship and praise, even had dungeons. The thought didn't linger long as his attention was drawn back to the girl by her soft cries of pain.

The girl was an elf, that much was blatantly obvious. The tips of her pointed ears were red only reminding the mage of how much colder the dungeons were than the already frigid outside. Her face bore no vallaslin, however, that didn't discount the possibility of the girl being Dalish. Her hair was the color of wheat and bound behind her head in what used to be a neat and intricate braid. It now hung loosely, barely retaining its shape due to the poor girl's thrashing as she slept. Her skin tone was light, yet also hinted at a life spent under the sun. The numerous freckles on her face were testament enough of that.

He had caught a glimpse of her eyes once during the past three days. In between what he assumed were nightmares, the girl had gasped loudly before her eyes snapped open. Solas was at her side in an instant. If she was truly waking up, he needed to ensure she was in a stable enough condition to speak with the Seeker. Her eyes were a brilliant blue; not quite the color of water, yet not the same color of the clear sky either. It was some shade in between the two that Solas could not readily place. As quickly as he had seen them, the girl's eyes were soon hidden behind her lids as she slipped back into unconsciousness.

She couldn't be older than sixteen.

Once more, Solas felt a pang of guilt at the young elf's situation. She would have been spared this fate had he only possessed the power needed to unlock his orb. The ancient elf never expected uthenera to drain him of so much power. The solution to his problem appeared simple enough: find someone to unlock the orb for him and then take it back.

Simple.

Finding someone powerful enough to unlock the orb had proven tricky. Solas couldn't trust the shemlen. He had seen the mistreatment of the People to know that the quicklings were not trustworthy. Add to the fact that his status as a mage seemed to scare away just about every shem and elf he encountered was also disconcerting. He soon discovered that those blessed with magic were caught and caged in places that were meant to teach them how to use their gifts and hone their abilities. In reality, it was meant to keep the "dangers" of magic from being set upon the populace.

Their lack of respect for magic was repulsive.

Solas had felt desperate and hopeless when his agents came across the ancient magister. The abomination possessed tremendous power and would most definitely be able to unlock the power of the orb. Instructions were given, and as predicted the creature's followers brought the ancient artifact to him in the hopes that it would further his own plans. Solas patiently waited for the magister's plans to unfold so as to snatch back the orb after the pawn's untimely demise.

He had not calculated for this to happen.

Now, his power dwelt in the palm of a young elven girl who could not possibly know how to use it properly.

As if his thoughts brought it to life, the mark on the girl's left hand glowed a bright green. The girl gasped in pain, curling in on herself to cradle the appendage close to her chest. Her cries of pain grew softer the more the light dimmed. Once it had returned to a bearable pain, her body relaxed somewhat. She uncurled from the tight ball she had been in, stretching her arms out as far as the restraints would allow. Her face went back to a neutral look that one associated with one in a deep sleep.

Solas heaved a heavy sigh before running a hand over his tired face.

"Is there no change in the prisoner?" An irritated voice asked from behind him.

The mage glanced at the woman behind him.

Cassandra Pentaghast was an intimidating woman. Her face was hard, the harsh angles of it only emphasizing how severe her expressions would appear to others. She had two clearly visible scars on her cheeks. The one on her right cheek was small and close to her distinguishable cheekbone. It was easily overlooked in comparison to the one that resided on the left side of her face. It started near the bottom of her chin and ran diagonally up her cheek stopping a few inches shy of her other cheekbone.

Her eyes were a walnut hazel color. This made her eyes look both hard yet warm often capturing the attention of those the woman spoke to. Her black hair was trimmed short and close to her scalp. It struck Solas as odd that she would keep her hair so short. Perhaps it had something to do with her being trained as a warrior. Long hair would get in the way in the heat of battle. The woman had a darker skin tone than the others Solas had interacted with so far. No doubt due to her country of origin. Her speech was heavily accented; again probably due to her country of origin.

Solas turned his thoughts from the Seeker and back to her prisoner.

"The mark still pains her. I do not know if she will ever awaken. The invasive way the magic was placed into her body may not allow for her to recover completely, if ever."

"That is not the answer I was looking for, mage."

He gritted his teeth in frustration at the woman's tone. "I am doing all I can for the girl, Seeker."

"So you say. Know this Solas; if you are withholding information from me-!"

"I have no reason to do so, Cassandra. Should the girl awaken, you will be the first to know."

The woman growled at his snarky reply, but turned on her heel without a word. She stormed out of the cell leaving Solas with his patient. Another sigh slipped from Solas' lips. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.

This wasn't the way things were supposed to go.

Solas gave the girl another look before standing. He stretched his arms above his head then followed after the Seeker. The guards at the entrance of the cell paid him little attention as he briskly walked passed them. That didn't bother him in the slightest. The less people noticed him, the easier it would be to slip away if need be.

With the way things were headed, Solas would need to put distance between himself and the impeding chaos.

Once he had reached the main floor of the Chantry, Solas made a beeline for the giant doors. He did his best to tune out the moans and cries of mourning that came from those inside. The loss of those at the Conclave clearly effected the people more than Solas had anticipated. He ignored them and continued on his way.

The cold mountain air was a welcome change from the damp air that permeated the dungeons. He let it fill his lungs and slowly felt himself relax ever so slightly. There was little else he could do for the girl thus little point in remaining down there with her. From the bit he had managed to hear from the soldiers who rotated to keep watch of the prisoner, several Rifts had opened after the Breach had appeared. He reasoned that his time was better spent attempting to find a way to close these Rifts than tending to a girl who may never wake up.

Another wave of guilt washed over Solas.

The girl wouldn't need tending to if not for his foolish actions.

Shaking the feeling away, Solas quickly left the settlement and headed for the valley. He could practically taste the magic that filled the once peaceful valley. The influx of demons from the Fade were troubling. He would do his part in getting rid of them, but he knew it would not be enough. Unless he could find a way to close both the Rifts and the Breach, they were all doomed.

"Abandoning our post are we, ser mage?"

Solas stopped in his tracks. He regarded the one who had called out to him.

A durgen'len leaned casually against a nearby stonewall, or what was left of one. The man had dark blonde hair which was held back from his face in a small ponytail on the back of his head. Unlike many of the dwarves he had encountered, however, he had no beard. Instead, the dwarf had an overly hairy chest which he proudly displayed by leaving his coat unbuttoned. His amber eyes danced with mirth though Solas could detect some anxiety in them as well. He had a light skin tone with hints of sunburn; signs the dwarf spent as little time as possible outdoors. A scar ran across the bridge of his nose.

"Simply changing my priorities. There is little I accomplish in the dungeons. I am more useful dealing with the demons in the valley."

"So serious!" The dwarf chuckled. "And how does Seeker Pentaghast feel about our plan?"

"She does not know."

"Damn Chuckles, you're just asking for trouble!" Solas frowned at the nickname, but did not respond. The other man shook his head condescendingly before pushing off the wall. "Well, I'm not doing much just standing here either. Bianca and I will join you."

The elf raised a brow. "Bianca?"

"Ah, where are my manners? Varric Tethras: rogue, entrepreneur, and storyteller extraordinaire! Bianca is the lovely lady behind me."

The dwarf gestured to the crossbow on his back. Solas found it odd that one would name their weapon, but chose not to question it. He gave a small nod of acknowledgement.

"My name is Solas."

"I don't really call people by their names. Sorry if that's something that bothers you, Chuckles."

Solas simply hummed in response. He began to walk once more noting the new set of footsteps behind him. It didn't matter if the dwarf accompanied him or not, but he would not turn away freely given help. There were many dangers that awaited them in the valley.

Solas prayed to any god that would listen to grant him some sort of salvation.

~xXxXx~

Elven Language Translations:

Vallaslin – blood writing, the term used to refer to the intricate facial tattoos worn by the Dalish

Uthenera – literally means "long sleep" or "endless dream"; also translated as "immortal"; refers to the long sleep performed by the ancient elves

Shemlen – literally means "quick children"; the term used by the ancient elves when referring to humans; shortened to shem by city elves as a slang term

Durgen'len – children of the stone; the original Elvish term for the dwarves

DD 62: So, I might have started a new chapter fic. This doesn't mean I'm giving up on my other story! I just need to step away from it for a little bit.

As obvious as it probably is, this is a Dragon Age story. I really love the headcanon of a child Inquisitor, but I also like the idea of a teenage Inquisitor. They're not quite old enough to have past experience to fall back on, but old enough to know what they should do. This should prove to be an interesting project!

Big thanks to Twin Wavelength for being my beta for this project! You're the best!

Also! If any of you are big Dragon Ball Z or Pokémon fans, check out shinyumbreon2's works! She's a terrific writer and I'm honored to be her beta!