Solana knelt and touched the earth. It was silky soft to her fingertips with the lingering warmth of the beast that had slumbered here only minutes before. She lifted her head and tested the wind. It smelled of late autumn - the hearth fires of the farmers, the leaves padding the undergrowth, whirling from the almost bare branches of the spindly trees that arched above like a huge natural cathedral.

She pulled her bow from across her chest and fitted an arrow. Her quarry was near. She moved slowly through the low scrub, following the tracks she had picked up after a few minutes of searching. The water hollow was a small one on the far reaches of her land and often served the creatures of this forest. She crept close, keeping low, remembering Zevran's lessons, staying downwind.

The hollow was still and clear. She swam here often in summer. The deer was drinking from it and upon her approach, it lifted its head. It had a small rack of antlers, flanks still plump from summer excess. She drew the bow, sighted down the arrow and let it fly.

With a grunt, Solana pulled the beast down from the horse. The mount shifted with the weight transference but otherwise remained steady. The stable lad took the reins and silently nodded to Solana, leading Ash toward the stables. She had field dressed the animal, making it lighter and easier to carry. She deposited the carcass in the kitchens, to the delight of their cook Alveros. He beamed at her with enthusiasm.

"Ahh, such a find, m'lady!"

"Easy take down. Caught him just after a nap." Solana slapped the furred flank of the deer.

"We shall eat well for days. Lovely."

Solana nodded. "I'm going to go clean up."

"Breakfast is still in the dining room, m'lady."

"Thank you."

Solana slung her bow and arrows from her shoulder, removed her dagger from her hip and set them carefully aside to be dealt with later. She removed her bracers, the scarred leather warm and pliable to the touch. She sat down on the end of her bed to unlace her boots.

"Mum?" a youthful voice called from the doorway.

She glanced up, a smile already curving her lips. The little sprite with curling blonde hair and bright blue eyes stood there with a severe expression on her refined features. "Hey beautiful girl."

The sprite entered, her soft grey leather boots barely making a whisper of sound on the floor. "You said I could go with you next time."

Solana pursed her lips and held open her arms. The sprite hesitated before falling in for a hug. Solana lifted her daughter onto her knee and snuffled at the girl's neck in a way that made her shriek with laughter.

"You smell like gingerbread," she growled in Wynne's ear. The girl wriggled.

"Mu-uuu-ummm," Wynne protested. "Stop. Stop! That tickles."

"Eat you all up!"

Solana tumbled them onto the bed and proceeded to tickle Wynne breathless.

They lay curled together, Wynne's head tucked under Solana's chin.

"Mum," Wynne said softly. "You said I could come hunting next time."

Solana sighed. Her daughter was stubborn. "I know, daughter of mine. Next time. I broke my promise this time for I needed time today. Quiet time."

Wynne's lower lip pouted. "But…"

Solana tapped her daughter's nose. "No sulking."

Wynne sighed. Solana bit sharply at her lip. Her daughter was growing so quickly. She was almost twelve. And she secretly thanked the Maker that she had shown no inclination toward magic. Toward hunting and tracking, the life of a ranger, yes. But she showed no interest, nor aptitude for magicks.

Solana stared over at the cabinet in the corner of her room.

"Come on, kid. I have to get changed for breakfast. I can't go in these leathers. Have you had yours?"

"Hours ago." Wynne sat up and scrambled off the bed. "I could eat again."

Solana smiled. Just like her father. "Alright. Give me ten minutes."

Wynne scampered for the doorway. "'Kay. I will tell Bridger to set my place again."

When Solana was alone, she stepped toward the cabinet. She waved her hand over the lock that accepted no key. The magic surged through her and the door opened. Her magic stave, the last one she had carried, leaned innocently in the corner, the runes carved into its length quiet now. The stones set into the carved piece at the top made her smile. She brushed her fingertips over their smooth surface and felt her fingertips tingle. She dropped her hand to the magic amulet she had been given by a templar when she had been so young, so naive. They had kissed once. She barely recalled his features. He had been handsome. Tongue tied. Not much older than she. She wondered what had happened to him.

She picked up and set aside the rings that still made her palms itch with the power they contained.

And a dark red rose. It's petals were dry and fragile. It sat before a painting, just a small one, of a man who smiled at her from the carved frame. She touched the angular planes of his face, the curve of his lips, the mischievous light of his eyes. Not for the first time, her heart ached for what could never have been. She swallowed the lump that threatened to choke her. Thirteen years since she had seen this man.

And she still missed him.

Solana Amell, ex Warden Commander of Ferelden, Arl of Amaranthine, closed the door of the narrow cabinet and with a wave of her hand, shut the chapter once again on her past. It only hurt her when she opened it, but this time of the year it was harder than most.

She hoped he had found some measure of happiness after the day she had broken his heart. She had given up the man so that he might be the King that their country desperately needed. She had given him up to a woman who really didn't deserve him - his kindness, his strength, his sweetness. She had given him up, and once the Grey Wardens had been rebuilt, she had walked away.

She had taken their daughter, and gone far away from the gossip of the court. And that part she did not regret. It would have only made it more difficult had he known he had a daughter. Had he sired a child with his …wife? Of course he had. That was the whole damn point. Bloodlines and nobility.

She would stay away. That was best. He hadn't tried to see her once she had told him it was best they ended it. She had only sent him reports via her seneschal, from both the Wardens and Amaranthine. They were no longer part of each other's lives. That was fine by her. Totally fine. Wynne didn't need to know that her real father was the King of Ferelden. She believed her father to be a soldier lost during the Fifth Blight, and Solana had never corrected her - which was wrong. But nor could she tell her the truth. At least, not yet.