Solas dodged the shades chasing him as Varric loaded Bianca with more quarrels. The rifts were getting worse, and vomiting stronger demons with each flex of the Breach. They had joined up with a squad of four soldiers when he and the dwarf had approached the first rift, which they were assigned to help keep clear of demons.
Every time a demon belched out of the rift, he winced. Guilt for what that Tevinter madman had done, and horror at the fate of innocent spirits caught in a torrent they couldn't fight tore through him.
Two soldiers had fallen to the shades thus far, and the other two were not reacting as quickly as they had before. Blood spattered onto snow, and one of them stumbled back from the shade attacking him. Solas cast a barrier over the soldier quickly before whipping lightning at the shades hot on his heels, and slashing at one with his staff blade. His pulse pounded in his ears. They are too strong, the soldiers will not survive. The shadows have no real defense against them.
One of the shades dissolved with a wailing shriek as Varric's quarrels thwacked through it. Solas looked away from his pursuers as he felt his barrier fall. The soldier threatened the shade with his axe, and took a clumsy swing, sweat and blood running into his eyes and obscuring his vision. The demon dodged the axe and lifted dessicated, clawed hands in the air to strike the helpless soldier.
Solas gathered his mana to cast another barrier, despite knowing in his gut it would come too late. Both he and the soldier stumbled back when a giant fireball smacked the shade head-on with a loud fwoosh.As it dissolved into ash and Fade, he spotted the mage who had thrown the fireball. The vessel for the Anchor was running towards their group, the Lady Seeker only a few paces behind. She gathered mana to her, and a shock of lightning protected the soldier from another shade as he swiped at his eyes to clear them.
He turned back to his shades, confident that the soldiers were as safe as could be expected now. Solas dispatched one with his staff blade, and while the Seeker, vessel, and Varric were distracted with the ones attacking their people, sent the last of his into the Fade with a Veilstrike. As the last of the shades fell, he felt the ripples of Fade radiating out from the rift. If they didn't do something quickly, more demons would come through, and the two soldiers the Lady Seeker was sending off were too injured to help them further. The four of them might or might not be able to hold off whatever was pressing against the rift from the other side. At his back, Solas felt a tickle as the Anchor reached for the rift.
Maybe… He had theorized that it might work, and now was as good a time as any to test his theory...
Grabbing the elven woman by the wrist, he shouted over the crackling of the rift, "Quickly, before more come through."
He glanced at her delicate little hand, and the slash of green across the palm, Please, let this work.
Raising her hand to the rift, threads of Fade whipped out, drawn to the Anchor like iron shavings to a lodestone. Solas restrained a shout of triumph as they wove the edges of the rift together, and, as she yanked her hand out of his grasp and away from the tear, the rift imploded out of existence with a crack.
She turned wide eyes as green as the Fade itself to him, flexing her hand around the Anchor, "What did you do?"
"I did nothing. The credit is yours."
"At least this is good for something." She shook her hand, a small grimace crossing her face.
"Whatever magic opened the Breach in the sky also placed that mark upon your hand." Lady Cassandra had already heard him tell Sister Leliana that he believed the two were connected, it was safe to say. "I theorized the Mark might be able to close the rifts that have opened in the Breach's wake- and it seems I was correct."
Even now, the need to maintain the appearance of an apostate hedge mage won out over his delight in his theory proving to be correct, keeping him calm.
"Meaning it could also close the Breach itself." Cassandra sounded like she didn't dare hope it was so. Her tone was normally certain and sure, the strength of her emotions unusual when compared to most of the shadows he had encountered.
"Possibly. It seems you hold the key to our salvation." And undoing whatever vile magic that magister unleashed.
The woman paled, and glanced down at her hand again.
"Good to know! Here I thought we'd be ass-deep in demons forever."
The nonchalance of Varric's tone belied the desperation of the situation had the Anchor not been able to seal the rift. His sense of humor was entertaining, if a little grating at times. The Child of the Stone had dubbed him 'Chuckles', much to his chagrin.
"Varric Tethras: Rogue, storyteller, and occasionally unwelcome tagalong."
Varric's wink at Cassandra was answered with a grimace and a gutteral noise in her throat. The bemused elven woman looked the dwarf up and down, then asked, "Are you with the Chantry, or...?"
Solas couldn't help himself, laughing at the question and snorting a little at the end, an embarrassing habit he'd hoped he was over, but apparently not.
"Was that a serious question?"
She looked over at him, something sparking in her eyes. Interest, perhaps? The corner of her full mouth quirked up in a little grin.
After listening to Cassandra and Varric squabble like an old married couple for a few minutes, Solas introduced himself to the elven woman, and they grimaced in unison as Cassandra referred to the both of them as apostates. A twinkle of merriment crossed her face and she tilted her face away from the Seeker to roll her eyes. He had to stop himself from grinning at her. She was a shadow, as Varric and Cassandra were, but a shadow with more character and life than he had seen in a long time, more like one of the elvhen.
She was curious, too, asking questions that allowed him to reveal as much as he could without risking himself. As they departed for the forward camp, Solas removed his canteen from its place on the pack slung across his back, offering it to her. As she carried the Anchor, and was proving to be both useful and friendlier than most Dalish, it wouldn't hurt to reciprocate for now.
"Here, I imagine the Lady Seeker and Sister would not have given you time to refresh yourself before you were brought out here."
"No, they didn't." She grimaced again, eyeing the Seeker.
She took the canteen from him and took a few quick gulps from it, then handed it back to him delicately.
"It seems we forgot to ask your name, madame, while introducing ourselves. I see you are Dalish, what clan are you from?" Solas took a gulp from the canteen himself.
"Oh, you're right! I'm from Clan Lavellan, and my name is Fen'lath, you can-" She cut off to stare at Solas as he choked on the water he was drinking, shooting it out of his nose and coughing.
Varric and Cassandra turned back to look at them with confused looks, their sniping silenced in the face of Solas spluttering water all over.