It was near dawn when they finally reached his study. If he had been in his physical body, Solas decided, his feet would be aching and his lungs would be burning. Fore he'd walked the entire grounds of Skyhold with Ember. Despite the hours of walking and talking, Solas decided it hadn't been an unpleasant evening. He found he rather enjoyed himself and, if he really must admit it, he enjoyed her.

"I really ought to be going," Ember whispered so softly that he had to strain to hear her.

"The sun'll be rising soon," Solas agreed. "I will have to wake soon."

She turned, resting her hand on his arm, Ember smiled at him, "This has been wonderful. Thank you, Solas."

"There's no thanks necessary. It was my pleasure."

Ember returned her attention towards the sky before them. She seemed mesmerized by the blooming colors that announced the dawn. "I'll try and get the information your Inquisition seeks. I promise you that."

Solas nodded in understanding, but he felt he had to interject, "Be careful, lady Ember. Do not take any unnecessary risks."

With a small laugh, the lady DragonBlood rose up on her toes and pressed her lips softly against the elf's cheek. Lowering back on her heels, she said with a shy smile, "If I didn't know any better, Sir Solas, I'd say you were worried about me."

Before he had a chance to reply, she was gone. She had returned to the realm of the living, leaving him in the land of the dead alone.

Solas pressed a hand to the cheek where her lips had graced. He could still feel the brand of her lips, almost as if it had burned an imprint into his flesh.

The burn lasted even after he awoke in his room and persisted throughout the rest of his day.

Each and every night after that one, Solas met Ember in his dreams. She would come and report to him what she'd overheard while spying in the Fade.

Unfortunately, so far, nothing significant had come of it. Everything she was able to find was information that was not news to the Inquisition. Still, she visited with the elf and they would talk about anything and everything. About ancient elves, about the various creatures of the world, and even about each other.

They would talk for hours. And when the sun began to peek over the horizon, she would leave to return to the prison she shared with her sisters.

And the monster who tormented them.

Sometimes, he would let her experience the memories the Fade had to offer. They witnessed an elvhen worship ritual, a battle, and the many failed experiments and research of the enchanter, the last owner of Skyhold.

She found him interesting, or so she told him. According to her, he was more worldly since he'd traveled to many places. Something, she'd told him, she had always wanted to do. So, Solas found himself answering her many questions about his travels, feeling a tad flattered by her enthusiasm.

Solas found himself asking questions about her family. He'd never been a part of a close knit one as Ember apparently had been. He found the ridiculous antics of the three triplets, he'd eventually found out, and their knack for finding trouble amusing.

As she told him of her childhood, the elvhen mage noticed the sparkle in her eye and the cheerful flush of her cheeks. Clearly enjoying herself, Ember exuberantly used her hands as she went into the details of her tale. She looked, he decided, young and innocent. At one and twenty, when many young women would have been married for years and having children, this girl had retained her sense of wonderment and youthful joy of life.

He wished it were not so, but he found himself looking forward to their time together. With the anticipation came other feelings he was unused to feeling. Rage and helplessness. Rage at the atrocities that were being committed against this bright girl every day and the helpless feeling that he wasn't able to help her. At least not yet, he would tell himself. He would find a way to help his friend, one way or another.

"If I didn't know better, Chuckles," Varric said before he shoveled some roasted potatoes into his mouth. "I'd say you were falling in love with this mystery girl."

Some of the companions had sat down to a meal of potatoes, some ram meat, and bread, after a long day of training. Dorian, a DeVinter Mage, had asked Solas how his information gathering with the "Fade Girl" was going.

Solas had replied that it was going well. Though nothing imperative had been discovered yet, he was sure that something would come of it. Ember, he'd remarked, was as determined to stop Corypheus as they were. Maybe even more so.

The elf studied the dwarf, what had brought this on? "And what makes you say that, Varric?"

Shrugging, the Child of Stone took a swig of his wine to wash down the food. "From what I'm hearing, you're spending every night with the girl. You even seem, dare I say it, excited to hurry to your chambers so that you can go sleepy time in dream land to go and see her."

Before Solas could protest, Iron Bull grunted from his place across from them, "That's right. You even talk about her a lot."

Tilting his head, he looked questioningly at Varric, "Do I?"

"Well, you're not very talkative on a normal day. But, yeah, you do mention this girl a bit." He chuckled and pointed his fork at the elvhen mage, "And for you, buddy, that's enough to take notice." Dorian laughed and nodded his agreement.

Frowning, Solas shook his head, "I will say that Ember is fast becoming a friend, one that I respect and wish to help. But," he interjected when the Qunari and the dwarf snickered, "I do not have any special feelings towards her. She is human, I am an elf. That's enough for me to keep my distance."

Varric rolled his eyes, but he didn't argue. He knew better than to start a debate with the Fade Mage.

A spark leapt into Bull's eyes, leaning forward, he tapped on the wooden table and asked, "Then if she ever comes here, she's free game right? She's cute right? And didn't I hear someone say that she was a redhead?" Leaning back, Bull groaned as if he'd bitten into a delectable pastry, "Damn! I love redheads!"

He didn't know why, but the thought of the rough Qunari trying to woo Ember made Solas uncomfortable, and even a little angry. Thankfully, Dorian jumped into the conversation, saving Solas from answering Bull's question, while giving him time to think about his curious reaction.

"Honestly, I don't see the appeal of redheads. Not all of them are good looking and then there are the freckles!"

"Bah!" Bull made a noise in disgust as he regarded Dorian. "Maybe redheaded men are like that. But I'm into women, and most of the redheaded women I've met are hot as hell." He tossed his head, like his name sake, "Plus, a few freckles are cute." He frowned, "But I will admit, there are some girls whose faces are covered in freckles."

Turning to Solas, Bull asked, "Does this Ember girl have a lot of freckles?"

Solas had been so engrossed in his thoughts, that he answered without thinking, "No. She doesn't have any."

Iron Bull let out a hoot, "All right!" A big fist punched enthusiastically in the air.

Ignoring the Tal-Vashoth Qunari, the elf continued to ponder the situation. The best and most plausible explanation, he determined, was that he was merely looking out for his friend. If-when- Ember DragonBlood and her sisters gained their freedom from Corypheus, they would be vulnerable after being subjected to the vile nature of the Dark Spawn Magister. The girls did not need men pursuing them, for all he knew, they would be terrified of all males once they were freed.

"Hey, Solas?" Breaking away from his thoughts, Solas gave Iron Bull his attention. The horned man made a half moon shape, curving his hands outwards, over his chest. Brows wiggling, Bull asked with a grin, "What about the tits? Big?"

Annoyance flickered through him, Bull was no longer simply being slightly irritating. Now, he'd worked himself to just plain annoying, not to mention rude. Shaking his head in disgust, Solas's blue grey eyes pierced the Qunari with blatant disapproval, "When, and if I ever let you near her, you will not be this disrespectful towards her or her sisters. If I deem that you are any less than courteous towards them, then you will have to deal with me."

A tad shocked, Bull merely blinked over at his elvhen companion. He spared a glance down at his nearly empty plate, as if ashamed. It lasted no more than a few seconds before he lifted his head and grinned wickedly at Varric and Dorian, "That is a definite yes."

When the other men laughed, it only irritated the elf more. Finished with his meal anyway, Solas wiped his mouth with his napkin and rose from the bench, "If you'll excuse me." Turning sharply on his heel, he left the main hall.

"Chuckles! Wait up!"

Solas didn't turn, he recognized the voice well enough, "Go away, Varric."

Despite the dwarf's shorter legs, he easily caught up. Stuffing his hands in the pockets of his trousers, Varric glanced up at him, studying him.

"He was being crude," Solas said through his teeth, explaining his reaction.

Varric nodded in agreement, "Duh. Bull's always crude, vulgar, and even straight up gross at times. Why should now be any different?"

Frowning, Solas dodged a pair of maids, their arms filled with linens, "I suppose I believed his attitude would change when he encountered someone who had suffered. Someone, that needs and deserves compassion."

Folding his arms behind his head, the merchant's son thought that over. "Well," he began. "I think Ol' Iron Bull will surprise you, Chuckles. When this girl shows up, I can almost guarantee you that Bull will be the perfect gentleman. Or," he amended with a laugh. "As much of one as he knows how to be."

"I hope you are right," Solas sighed. "I would hate to have to set his pants on fire."

A surprised laugh burst from Varric's mouth. Eyes shimmering with humor, he thumped Solas on the back, "Look at you! Cracking jokes, huh? If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were taking a chip off the ol' block, my friend."

Solas rolled his eyes, but allowed the small smile to slip past his stone mask. The two of them had reached the outer wall, by now. The cool mountain breeze danced over their skin, sending Varric's hair into a wild mess.

Hands on hips, the dwarf looked down at Skyhold in satisfaction, "We've really built something here, huh, Chuckles?"

Not paying much attention, Solas grunted in agreement, his eyes on the sun, gauging the time around one in the afternoon.

"I know we've made a difference in so many people's' lives, and I know we'll continue to do so, but do you ever feel like the weight of the world is resting on your shoulders?"

"Yes," the elf agreed without hesitation, still rather distracted.

Cutting his eyes up at the elf, Varric smirked, "Thinking of taking a mid-afternoon nap?"

Solas cast a sidelong glance down at his companion. He didn't want to admit it, but he'd been thinking exactly what the dwarf suspected. "No."

"Sure you weren't," winking up at Solas, Varric grinned, obviously sensing the lie.

With a huff, Solas walked away, leaving the storyteller behind.

"Where ya' going?" Varric called after the elf.

"The library," he answered. There was always something interesting to read in Skyhold's library. Books had been left there for centuries and had remained in relatively good shape.

Solas only prayed that the books would keep him occupied until sundown.