SFW. Miriel and the gang go to Val Rayoux. Solas helps Miriel adjust.

Elves and the City

Miriel, the best Hunter in all of the Dalish clan Lavellan, was not a city girl.

She stared at Val Rayoux, stomach churning with anxiety. So many people. Val Rayoux was the biggest city she had ever seen. The cities in the Free Marches were large, but they had these walls around them to protect their freedom from the other cities. Plus, she had never actually been in a city, just seen it as the clan's aravels passed by. She had always wondered what a human city was like and now that she was there…she felt like she couldn't get away fast enough.

Up close the city was terrifying. Its sky scraping towers and busy streets teeming with people in strange garb, the myriad of scents of foreign food and dirty alleyways, the judging eyes behind gleaming masks all overwhelmed Miriel. She was used to the forest, with its sky scraping trees and busy bush teeming with chirping critters clad in their own fur and not the furs of others. The animals of the forest weren't concerned with fashion or social faux paus, they were concerned with finding their next meal and staying warm. The struggle for power in the forest was straight forward: eat, don't get eaten, and reproduce. In Val Rayoux, Miriel could feel the odd vigilant hostility emanating off of the masked denizens, intent and planning completely hidden and unknown. She felt the weight of their gazes, and she didn't know what drew the most stares: her ears, Vallaslin, or the faintly glowing Mark on her hand. Don't get eaten.

Her bare feet tingled from the strange heat of the smooth pavement, a drastic difference from the granular dirt her feet were used to. She had to resist the urge to step particularly lightly as she strode through the streets to the city center where the Mothers were convening. Her heart raced as she passed more and more people. Elves, humans, dwarves – it didn't matter, the masses were too close, too numerous and they were all watching her.

Talking with the screeching Mother and the renegade Templars did nothing to calm her heart and stomach. Her eyes darted back and forth on their own will, sensing potential threats every time someone threw her a second glance. Her ears twitched, her skin prickled and she just couldn't calm down. She closed her eyes but the sense of potential danger only pressed more urgently on her mind.

Solas had noted Miriel's distress almost immediately. She did a poor job hiding it with the hand to her forehead and the long pauses with her eyes closed, her lips forming a staunch line on her face. He noticed the way her body had lost its smooth elegance the moment she stepped on the pavement. Her nose had scrunched up, a crinkle forming between her brows as her toes tapped the pavement, testing it. Her first few steps were precise and careful, carrying none of her usual confidence.

She was uncomfortable to an alarmingly obvious degree and he was concerned that she would appear vulnerable to any enemies that were possibly lurking nearby, and if she looked weak, the Inquisition would look weak. If the Inquisition appeared weak it could cost them valuable allies. Solas quickly concluded that he could not allow this to continue.

She needed air. Copious amounts of clean air that didn't smell of sugar or perfume or street trash. She needed actual earth under her feet, and a cacophony of birds or insects, not a subtle low roar of muttering voices and backstabbing whispers.

Miriel glanced around, her head swimming with all the new information her senses were being assaulted with.

"Herald, would you come with me for a minute? It will help clear your head," Solas's soft whispering voice cut through the static in her mind and she found herself vaguely nodding. Solas gently took her arm and began guiding her through the streets. Soon they were ascending the steps to an impossibly tall building with those red, propped up curtains – what were they called? Ownings? The stairs spiraled up for what appeared forever until they came to a large arched door. Solas opened the door and lead her to a balcony overlooking the entire city.

Miriel gasped as she beheld Val Rayoux from above. She heard none of the whispers, smelled none of the trash, and she could breathe as the breeze blew her hair back from her face. She closed her eyes as she leaned into the wind.

The static in her mind ebbed away as she felt the air rustle around her. She could feel the confusion rolling off of Cassandra and Varric, but she didn't care, because this was exactly what she needed.

"Ma serannas, Solas, ma serannas," she whispered. He stood next to her, a small, polite smile gracing his face.

"I am pleased this helped."

"Could someone please explain to me what we are doing up here?" Cassandra asked in her typical demanding manner.

"I think the Herald has never been inside a city before, Seeker." Varric explained.

"Oh, this must be very overwhelming then."

"Has anyone ever called you Captain Obvious?"

"No." The Seeker said seriously. Varric chortled and Solas shook his head. Miriel smiled into the wind, letting it buoy her spirits up and above the city, above the reproach of the trash and the deceit.

It was truly a lovely moment, up on that high, secluded balcony. Only the whipping of the wind and the occasional bird chirping were heard, until a fast flying arrow whizzed by the Herald's head. THUNK! Into the door the arrow went.

"MAKER!" Cassandra swore as she drew her sword and shield, immediately falling into a protective stance around Miriel. Solas had brought up his barrier, and Varric had Bianca at the ready as he scanned the area. A now calm and centered Miriel strode to the arrow, noting the small, wadded up piece of paper attached.

"It's a message, it wasn't aimed to kill, just to inform."

"Check to see if it's a death threat, then it was meant to kill." Miriel unraveled the note, it smelled vaguely of cheese and ale, and there was an accompanying stain on the parchment. The handwriting was awful and barely legible but Miriel made do.

"Looks like a potential ally actually, in a group that calls themselves 'Red Jenny.'" Miriel looked at her companions, "do any of you know who or what 'Red Jenny' is?" Solas's face turned solemn as he thought, Cassandra shook her head, and Varric scratched his.

"They sound vaguely familiar, but I can't pinpoint why," Varric offered and Miriel sighed.

"Well, something is better than nothing. The note says that there is a guy who's after me and that they have evidence strewn about at the docks and a café." Solas sighed.

"A test for their potential allegiance."

"They couldn't just sit down with us and talk about it over tea?" Cassandra asked, exasperated.

"Because this is how it works in the real world, Seeker, when a group that may not have a spotless reputation thinks about making a move as big as aligning itself with something like the Inquisition." Varric informed Cassandra. The woman scowled in response.

"I agree with Cassandra, not about the tea, but about the pastries. Of all the things you humans make, your pastries are my favorite. Alright, let's hit the docks and find that café. Oooh, maybe they'll have croissants!" Miriel skipped through the door and headed down the stairs. Varric and Cassandra stared after her, amazed at the restorative powers the balcony had on her. Solas grinned, he was always right about these things.

The docks smelled of fish and shit. Miriel was convinced that Val Rayoux's homeless population frequented this area by the sheer amount of crap, both literal and figurative. She was also convinced that any fish taken from the lake was not safe for consumption, the fish simply didn't look right and she was convinced that it was the crap and pollution making it so that the fish were inedible.

Disregarding the shit and the fish, the group found a snippet of a letter giving details about the man after the Herald.

"Now to the café, thank the Creators." Miriel muttered as they hurried away from the stench. The café did indeed smell better, in fact, it smelled heavenly. After finding the information they needed, Miriel bought three croissants, all for herself.

"What?" The party looked at the food she bought quizzically. "I'm hungry," she explained semi-bashfully. Cassandra rolled her eyes.

"Come on, we have the upper merchant ring to check." Cassandra had to practically pull Miriel out of the café.

"Oh look! Danishes!"

Sera was…unique, Miriel supposed. The woman certainly was enthusiastic about her work, at least. Solas was obviously annoyed by her, his nose crinkled in opposition to the woman every time she opened her mouth. Miriel could see his thoughts whirring about in his head, all circulating back to she is a disgrace to the elven people. Miriel could snort at the thought, she had to agree with Sera that he could be a bit pretentious, particularly when it came to things he believed himself to be an expert on – mainly elves, magic, and history. Miriel was glad that there was another person in the group who could poke at Solas's inflated ego a bit…and maybe throw a pie at him.

After picking up Sera in the courtyard, it had gotten too late to make the journey back to Haven, so they had taken out a single room in an inn. A single room because they didn't have enough money to buy two, and Val Rayoux was exceptionally expensive. The room was small for five people but it wasn't terrible. Varric took the chair in the corner; Cassandra was on the bed with Sera. Solas created a little makeshift bed for himself out of the pack he always toted around. Miriel took a sheet off the bed and made a hammock for herself, just as if she were sleeping in an aravel again.

As it turned out, Sera snored…loudly. Varric slept like a rock, unaffected by Sera's snoring. Solas took a while to fall asleep, but once he did, there was no waking him up until he was ready to depart from the Fade. Cassandra slept soldier style and was either really good at pretending to sleep, or she really was sleeping despite the surprisingly raucous snoring. Miriel did not sleep. She remained wrapped up in her hammock, unsettled by the consistent loudness of the city. The forests were never completely quiet, there was always a growl and a gentle buzzing of insects and other creatures, but it was surely quieter than it was during the day. The city was different. The consistent muttering and whispering she had heard during the day did not subside during the night. It was loud, even without Sera's snoring, and it prevented Miriel from sleeping.

For a while, Miriel just stared up at the ceiling, counting Halla in a vain attempt to sleep. She reached two hundred fifty six before she called it quits. Her restlessness prompted her to roll out of her hammock and tip toe softly out of the crowded room. She made her way up to the roof to look at the streets below. The cool evening air pressed against Miriel, an odd old comfort that reminded her of the many nights she spent holding watch over the aravels. She closed her eyes and tried to imagine herself back out in the wilderness with her clan.

"It's a nice night," a clipped voice said behind her. Miriel opened her eyes and turned around to see Solas with his hands behind his back.

"I woke you, I'm sorry," Miriel said but Solas waved her off.

"No, Sera began saying absurdities in her sleep." Miriel gave a small laugh.

"That would do it, then," there was a pause. "Thank you again for taking me to the balcony today, it was exactly what I needed."

"The city can be overwhelming, I understand."

"Very overwhelming, I could barely think with all the noise and the people, and Creators, the smell. Oh the smell is wretched!" Solas laughed and moved to stand next to her near the ledge.

"Oh yes, the smell is rather repulsive, but it has gotten better." Her eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"Surely you jest!" Solas shook his head.

"I am afraid not. In my travels in the Fade, I came across several memories of spirits who saw and were present at the very early days of Val Rayoux. It was a disgusting mud pit that smelled of dung and unwashed humans. It was dreadful. I had to leave the memory immediately."

"Oh, eww."

"Precisely. It is much nicer now."

"And the pastries are marvelous."

"I am personally a fan of the frilly little cakes."

"There are frilly little cakes?"

"Yes, there are, and there is a bakery that is still open down that road." Solas gestured toward a brightly lit alleyway with ivy dripping down the walls. They exchanged a look and then hurried down to the street. The bakery was about to close when the two arrived, red faced and grinning from ear to ear.

Solas spoke quickly and fluently in Orlesian to the tired looking baker, handing over several gold pieces before the haggard woman nodded and headed back inside.

"What did you say?" Miriel asked, dumbfounded to see the baker opening a cupboard and pulling out a tin.

"Simply that I wish to impress a beautiful woman with the best frilly cakes in all of Orlais, and that only her cakes would do." He said smoothly and she laughed heartily.

"Oh you sly dog. And she is going in there and getting those frilly cakes all in the name of romance?" She said and he chuckled softly.

"I also paid her double the amount that she charges for the cakes normally." He explained.

"Ah yes, the timeless allure of money."

"Many have succumbed to its seductions." He replied. Miriel postured slightly, comically raising her nose into the air.

"Well I have never been tempted by money." She affected an Orlesian accent and Solas gave a small smile.

"Hmm, just by frilly cakes."

"But of course." The baker then came out with two tins full of frilly cakes and a sour expression on her face. Solas handed her a few more coppers, she huffed and handed him the tins but then was on her way, leaving the elves alone with the cakes.

"Shall we find a place to eat these?" Miriel smiled broadly.

"I know exactly the place."

The balcony was quiet, not even a bird peeped. The sounds of the city were far below the two elves. Faint lights glowed below in the windows of insomniacs and late night workers. Miriel and Solas leaned on the banister eating their frilly cakes. Miriel took a bite of one, her face soured and she looked around helplessly for place to politely dispose of the foul contents of her mouth. Solas kindly handed her a napkin with a soft chortle.

"I take it you do not like the orange cake with the cherry icing."

"That was an offense to my taste buds." Solas picked up a dark cake and handed it to her.

"Try this, it's a dark chocolate cake with raspberry infused dark chocolate ganache." She took a bite, and her eyes fluttered close on an unintentional moan of pleasure. Solas laughed a bit louder, "I take it you like it then." She finished chewing the slice of heaven before answering.

"That is…Creators, wow. That's better than a pastry. That's better than cheap booze taken from a Shem. That's better than sex. No, it is sex, but in my mouth. I think my tongue had an orgasm just now." Solas guffawed, his entire body shaking with the force of his laughter.

"Really, better than sex?"

"Oh don't take that tone with me, mister 'All the good things in my life are in the Fade'."

"Even I enjoy the basic pleasures of the physical world…like this peanut butter and milk chocolate cake." He took a bite and sighed happily. As he chewed he offered a bite of the cake, to which she agreed to eagerly. She leaned forward and took a bite of the cake in his hand, their eyes met and instead of looking away awkwardly, she smiled at him as she pulled back chewing the cake.

"That's good, but that's not sex in my mouth amazing." Solas rolled his eyes.

"The dark chocolate of your cake is overpowering the subtleties of mine." Miriel was taken aback.

"Uh, what's subtle about peanut butter?"

"It is the way that the milk chocolate accentuates the peanut butter, it is a very pleasurable taste."

"Did you taste this though? It blows yours out of the water." She offered him her cake but he waved her off.

"Dark chocolate tends to irritate my stomach, and besides, I do not wish to ruin the wonderful experience of my cake." He took another bite and seemed to revel in it. Miriel scoffed playfully and nibbled her own cake in delight.

After finishing their respective cakes, Miriel sighed and smiled happily, "Thank you, again, Solas, I don't know…I don't know how I would have survived this blighted city without you." Solas met her eyes solemnly, kindly.

"You would have survived perfectly well without me, I just eased you into it." He looked away and at the now remarkably empty tins.

"Even so, I am grateful, it's so nice to have someone who understands what it's like not being a city elf." Solas paused and then nodded.

"Yes, I suppose it is." He looked away from her, a pregnant pause growing between them. He then cleared his throat.

"I have been meaning to talk to you about something," he began.

"Oh, what about?"

"Closing the Breach is our primary goal, but I hope we might also discover what was used to create it. Any artifact of such power is dangerous. The destruction of the Conclave proves that much." Miriel's face scrunched up as he spoke and he was worried she would reject his desire.

"You don't think whatever created the explosion was destroyed in the blast?" She asked instead. He was somewhat relieved, except that she still looked displeased with the turn of conversation.

"You survived did you not? The artifact that created the Breach is unlike anything seen in this age. I will not believe it destroyed until I see the shattered fragments with my own eyes." He needed that orb to the point where he could not believe it destroyed…the implications of such a thing would be…unpleasant.

"Anything with that kind of power is bound to show up sooner or later." Miriel shrugged, seemingly uninterested in the idea if it showed up at all.

"Leliana's people have scoured the area near the blast and found nothing. Whatever the artifact was, it is no longer there." Again, Miriel just shrugged.

"Is something bothering you?" He asked perturbed by her reaction.

"You can't go more than five minutes without discussing the Inquisition, we were having a moment, you brought up the Breach. Moment gone. I am not…upset, I just wanted five minutes without being reminded about the impending doom over our heads, literally." She leaned back against the railing and sighed.

"Oh, what would you discuss then?" Despite knowing that getting any closer to her was a bad idea, he found himself unwilling to have this moment end. He wanted to talk to her, it had been so long since he could actually talk to someone, and Miriel for all her faults and loud nature, was a surprisingly good listener.

"How about you? I'd like to know more about you, Solas," she suggested and Solas felt a pit form in his stomach. He was not particularly interested in talking about himself, especially since he would have to toe very delicately around the truth.

"Why?" He asked and she pursed her lips.

"You're an apostate, yet you risked your freedom to help the Inquisition," she stated plainly, though he could tell she had a much sharper reply waiting eagerly on the tip of her tongue.

"Not the wisest course of action when framed that way." He muttered.

"I appreciate the work you're doing, Solas. I just wanted to know more about you."

"I am sorry. With so much fear in the air…what would you know of me?" He would have to be careful, he could not give too much but he also could not give too little. It was best to be as vague as possible without inviting prying questions, though he suspected that no matter how expertly crafted his responses would be, Miriel's curiosity would demand she ask questions regardless.

"What made you start studying the Fade?"

"I grew up in a village to the north," this was true, "there was little to interest a young man, especially one gifted with magic." This was vaguely correct. At the time of his birth and youth, his village had been small and there had been no place for magical study, and he had longed for the hallowed halls of magic in Arlathan.

"But as I slept, spirits of the Fade showed me glimpses of wonders I had never imagined. I treasured my dreams. Being awake, out of the Fade, became troublesome." He did not need to mention that his sleep was actually a borderline Uthenera, and that being awake in this new age often felt akin to tranquility.

"Did spirits try to tempt you?" She asked. He understood that her question was well-intentioned and based off of information she had grown up with, but in light of his knowledge and his experience, it was an ignorant question. Spirits were not dangerous if you kept the correct perspective.

"No more than a brightly colored fruit is deliberately tempting you to eat it. I learned how to defend myself from more aggressive spirits and how to safely interact with the rest. I learned how to control my dreams with full consciousness. There was so much I wanted to explore." If he had his way, if he had always had his way…he would be a scholar, a dreamer, a researcher on all things related to the Fade. Instead here he was, an ancient rebel in hiding while trying to help a misguided Dalish girl save the world from an evil magister.

"I gather you didn't spend you entire life dreaming," she said.

"No, eventually I was unable to find new areas in the Fade." Once more her face scrunched up at his words, though this time he could identify it as a signal of curiosity rather than derision.

"Why?"

"Two reasons. First, the Fade reflects the world around it. Unless I traveled, I would never find anything new. Second, the Fade reflects and is limited by our imaginations. To find interesting areas, one must be interesting." He explained and she smiled slightly.

"Is this why you joined the Inquisition?" She brought up the organization that she a few moments ago did not wish to discuss, but Solas didn't bring that up. He was here for conversation and to escape from Sera's snoring.

"I joined the Inquisition because we are all in terrible danger." He said softly. Her gold eyes suddenly met his blue ones. He never noticed before that while they were very characteristic of the ancient Elvhen…they were also beautiful and showed her every emotion perfectly. Curiosity, intensity, playfulness – it was all there. How interesting.

"If our enemies destroyed our world, I would have nowhere to lay my head while dreaming of the Fade." He went on to say. She closed her eyes and gave a slight nod of the head.

"I wish you luck," truly? Her acceptance of his fascination of the Fade was less surprising than it would been before, but he was still mildly delighted to hear her support.

"Thank you. In truth, I have enjoyed experiencing more of life to find more of the Fade."

"How so?"

"You train to flick a dagger or an arrow to its target. The grace with which you move is a pleasing side benefit. You have chosen a path who steps you do not dislike because it leads you to a destination you enjoy. As have I."

"So you're suggesting I'm graceful?" She teased, her teeth worrying at her bottom lip slightly. Solas returned her smile with a wolfish grin. It had been some time since he could flirt and he was enjoying the opportunity now.

"No, I am declaring it. It was not a subject for debate." A delightful blush spread across her cheeks and she looked to the ground briefly before drawing her eyes back up to his.

"Earlier you said I'm beautiful," she said softly.

"Again, not a subject for debate," he practically purred. Her entire face was nearly the color of a beet and he had to resist the urge to laugh at how exceedingly adorable it was. Adorable? No, no it was ridiculous, not adorable.

"Are you well? You appear to be rather flushed, Herald," he couldn't resist teasing her more, but this time she seemed to regain herself.

"Yes, well, being complimented by a handsome man will do that to a woman," she said and this time Solas felt his cheeks heat.

"Handsome, is it?"

"As you said, it is not a subject for debate," she purred back at him, gold eyes glinting with mischief.

"Is there anything else you would know of me?" He asked and she smiled wistfully.

"Oh I don't know…why don't you tell me about the Fade some more?" She asked and something in her voice made the idea sound almost sexual. Solas beamed at the idea regardless, and began to talk excitedly about the many wonders and properties of the Fade. He thought he would bore her but she listened and asked him questions, intelligent questions even. For hours they sat on that balcony, talking about the Fade and whatever other topics came up.

Notes: Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it. I am planning on updating this story every Friday.