"When I was a child sat upon my mother's knee,
by firelight she spoke of rights, and ancient history,
and one phrase she repeated though I knew not what it meant,
be safe, da'len, young lethallan,

May the Dread Wolf never catch your scent."

- Let the Dread Come In, Phemiec

Chapter 1: First Encounters

There's something tragically beautiful about his eyes. I can see them through the fog that grips my body. They are bright blue like mist in the morning, with flecks of darkness like the stormy sea, so deep and wise and so far away. In my mind I see myself reaching out to touch them, grasp the thoughtfulness I witness there and hold those eyes close to my heart. Protect them. Then bright light, so blindingly white that it appears green in my mind's eye, shakes me and I feel heat lick my skin. Clammy and sweating I'm panting when I wake up. I feel queasy and just miss the side of my bed as I vomit the contents of last night's stew onto the dirt floor of my modest hut. Straightening I throw myself back into the pillow and stare at the canvas ceiling. I can't really see the ceiling, it's too dark still, but I know it's there. Of course it's there, I think to myself absently and sigh. Ridiculous. That dream, I think sternly, afraid to consider any other possibility, shook me more than I thought I guess. Stray thoughts roll around my head. Flashes of memory. Eyes. Light. Burning. I sit upright in a bolt. No more of that, I think as I dress; slowly, methodically, and banish all thoughts of beautiful eyes and green lights from my mind.

Besides the dream, now suppressed and forgotten, the morning passes unremarkably. The first peak of sunshine is kissing the fields beyond. Little wisps of crimson and gold are streaking over the rolling hills and I sigh. Before the sunlight rises any higher I've managed to slip out and beat Fenrick to the hunt. I smile to myself and slink through the forest, bow ready.

I aim my bow up, eyeing a Fennec not far away, and I am just about to lose the arrow when I notice a dark figure out of the corner of my eye. Fast for my own people, I switch to aim at the shadowy figure, pointing my arrow at the largest part of it, the chest. That's when I realize that the figure is Elven. Not a Shem wandering our forests, or even a bear, but an Elf. A male elf. I lower the bow slightly, he's been watching me the whole time and my heart beats fast in my ears. No one ever goes unnoticed by me, by a hunter. I open my mouth to call in our language, "Who are you?" but before I can a loud crack breaks the air, deafening me, and reverberating through my body.

Eyes watering I scream but the sound is lost is a vortex that pulls me dangerously toward a sort of ragged tear, flickering and pulsing. I want to grab at anything to anchor me where I am, to stop the pulling sensation.

"STOP!" I scream. My heart beating through my chest. Tears are running in torrential waves down my cheeks and fear paralyzes my limbs.

Suddenly the tear changes. Taking on shape the pulsing light turned into something... someone. They reach out to me. Danger is all I am aware of but without thought of action or consequence I reach back. When our hands connect there's a split second of clarity and I see a familiar face. I fade from consciousness thinking that I can't quite understand why I feel so safe now.

I'm fully awake now but when I attempt to open my eyes I feel as if I've spent a night brawling with a Qunari warlord. Not that I have any experience with the Qunari, I think. But I feel exactly like what I imagine fighting a Qunari would feel like. I start rubbing my eyes with an intense desire to force them open. They feel heavy, swollen, and gummy. Acute panic starts to rise in my throat and I rub harder.

A hand, soft and cool to the touch, takes my hand. "There's no need for that." Without my sight I feel as if that stern but lilting voice is seeing through me and I feel incredibly exposed in my current state, then a striking thought startles me. The last thing I remember is deafening and unimaginable terror and falling into unconsciousness.

"Where am I? Who are you?" Questions and questions are rolling up from the boiling cauldron in my stomach. I choke them down, firmly deciding to adopt a calm demeanor. If I am taken prisoner then I do not want to show weakness. If I am saved then I can convey my gratitude more eloquently.

There is nothing but silence. No wind. No buzz of insects. No breathing. Just silence. Then slowly, sadly, a sigh. "In another time you would know me but sadly everything is different now." I can almost sense the melancholy smile that plays at his lips, for he is most assuredly a "he", when he adds, "You may call me Solas. Now lay still."

I have no other option as his long fingers cover my eyes. When he draws his hands away I can see again and my breath catches. Those eyes. Those familiar, startlingly blue eyes. I am instantly aware that I know him better than I've known anyone else. Intimately but I can't remember anything about him. I can't even remember ever seeing him before. But those eyes, I think. Those eyes have plagued my dreams and nightmares for the last six months. "You..." I breathe.

Surprise and alarm flicker across his delicate features. Like approaching an injured and frightened animal he says, "Do you know me?" It is a curse and prayer as the words leave his lips.

I take a deep breath and close my eyes. Reaching into the corners of every memory I try to bring up the face sitting only a few paces from me now. Pale skin and delicate features, a noble chin. I open my eyes to look again. He is sitting cross legged, evergreen robes and a mage's staff laying over his knees, he does not wear Circle Robes so he is obviously an Apostate. Could I really forget someone like him?

"No, I'm sorry," I say. "I must have mistaken you for someone else."

Tension rolls off his shoulders as he relaxes slightly, unnoticeably. "'Tis to be expected I would guess. You went through quite the ordeal." I open my mouth but he knowingly continues without pause, "I will answer all of your questions. I promise." He looks warmly at me. Pointedly. "But you must allow me to do one thing." I nod sternly and he leans in close. In one elegant movement we are both standing. He holds me by my waist. Our surrounding, which I hadn't noticed before dissolved away.

"Here we are." Solas says as he lets go of my waist. My heart stops fluttering and strange disappointment rolls through me as he steps away.

Then I look around.

My caravan. My home. I see myself slipping into the forests, just as I did this morning. The Keeper is stirring and the other hunting parties are readying to leave camp. Fenrick is laughing at a joke from one of the younger Da'len. He throws his head back. That must have been why he was late this morning, I think to myself, it is strange to see the past.

"You've been here before. In this specific spot. You've been many places but your Clan returns to this camp every several years. There are many fond memories here. You and your older sister plaiting your hair with flowers. You mother cooking the stew you enjoy so much. Your father lifting you onto his shoulders. There are scars too," Solas' voice drifts to me, he pauses, as if wondering how to continue. Directly, he decides as he says, "Mourning the death of a beloved wife and mother. Saying goodbye to Mira when she moved away with her husband's caravan. Nursing your father in his old age." Solas looks at me. Blue eyes full of empathy, "You have a beautiful family."

I only nod. Trying to fulfill my agreement and not interrupt the strange goings-on.

"You will not understand our history so I will spare trying to explain that just yet. Perhaps that is selfish but it buys me more time trying to choose my words." He smiles thoughtfully. "But I thought perhaps it would be best to show you what happened when we met in the forest." Just as Solas speaks I see him, or rather a shadow of him, looking at me, with my bow aimed at his chest. Then, as I step toward him something strange happens, bright light pours out from something like a crystallized shard in the air. Energy buzzes around the thing and wisps of the glowing green light are escaping from it. Familiar panic is raising in me as I watch the tendrils of smoke and light reach around the crumpled up shape that is my shadow-self, it is pulling me in. My shadow screams something unintelligible. Solas, the other Solas, walks through the warp and as he disappears so does whatever was trying to claim my body. He stands whole and unharmed in its place and holds his hand out to me. He did save me, I think.

Just as we arrived we depart. The surroundings dissolve into nothingness and we are back where we began. I now see that it is a dark cave, there is a small fire is still burning and it is as if we never moved. I yawn, as if waking.

"Good morning." Solas says, and I blink.

"Morning?" I say.

Solas chuckles, it is not a laugh with any joy but he seems mildly amused. "Yes, morning. Lucid dreaming takes a lot out of a person but you performed amiably. You slept all night and woke in the morning as if you had dreamt in the Fade before." This time I abandon all pretense and gawk openly at him. The Fade? Again he answers with an understanding of my thoughts, "Yes, you walked in the Fade. Only in your dream and I was there to guide you but you were there. It is true." The amusement leaves his face.

Very slowly, very sternly, and very gently he says. "You have incredible power Lavellan, and I fear I need you."