This came out a bit short, but here's the first "real" conversation between these two. It's a bit of a bridging chapter to lead up to the things that will come soon, but I still like it. I just love how Arlenna battles with herself to hate him, or at least distrust him.

IV. Bargaining

The first rule of bribing a reluctant business partner is knowing what they want. Everybody wants something. That assumption ranks in the lines of "Fereldens make revolting brandy.", or "Kirkwall has terrible weather.". It's just a fact. Having a bargaining chip in a hopeless negotiation can save your ass, a hundred times better than gold ever could.
Varric

The relentless brightness of a rising sun meddling its way through every ridiculously open space of my 'quarters' woke me in the morning. Wherever I had ended up through my kidnapper's machinations, the people here seemed to love themselves some light at the expense of privacy. Only one corner of my room was walled, the other two sides were completely see-through archways, looking out either into the courtyard or towards a docile little gazebo. And the ceiling… I mean seriously, glass domes? Anyone peeking down from the imposing crystal tower could spy on the residents. Disconcerting and intrusive. At home, I'd had my own, spacious rooms with proper doors and curtains that could be closed or drawn.

But this… Everything was open, airy, light. It had a certain elegance, in an unfamiliar, strange way. Nothing like what I remembered from my visits to my mother's clan, the Dalish. These elves seemed more sophisticated and very casual about using magic in their housings. The very air tingled with it, as though energy had been woven into each marble column, each piece of long-limbed, curving furniture. I sighed, reliving the events of the night and pondering my immediate situation. The barrier that had thwarted any escape once already glowed faintly, a mere foot behind the white columns. Doubtful that I could break it by any means known to me. The magic emanating from it felt solid and well-maintained, while my powers… Muted, not completely, but weak nevertheless. I had exhausted myself yesterday, and even the night had brought no true rest or recuperation. I still seethed with anger about the abduction, but that too somehow had burned down to simmering coals inside me. The outlook on escaping was bleak, and it weighed my spirits quite effectively.

At least my captors had arranged a folding screen in the protected corner of the room, behind which a small washing basin and an ivory comb allowed me to salvage the mess of my appearance a little. When I stepped forth from behind it after grooming, I startled.

A woman stood in the archway, framed by the ever-glowing light from the magical sphere that floated above this odd place. I'd noticed it before. The thing made all my mage senses prickle. Some incredibly strong spell dwelled inside, radiating perpetual energy like a miniature sun. I'd never seen anything like it, nor heard or read about such magic during my studies with the Circle. The elf who had invaded my prison diverted my attention to her by placing a tray of food and a bundle of clothes on a small table. She was tall and lean, with angular features. Very elf-like. She did not bear Vallaslin, but almost hidden beneath the raven-black hair that framed her face, I could see faint markings along her temples. Ice-blue eyes surveyed me with thinly veiled contempt.

"I was told to bring you fresh clothes and something to eat." A heavy accent, with drawn-out syllables. My mind filed through the many lessons on Dalish culture I'd attended to at my mother's behest. This woman had belonged to a western clan. Meres, or Elethin…

"Do not delude yourself into thinking you are welcome here.", she suddenly interrupted my thoughts. Not even bothering to keep her voice polite.

"Mirthadra might think you should be treated as a guest, but you are nothing more than a tool to be used in our plans. It is despicable that an alshera should come from the heritage of a harellan." Her piercing gaze taxed me, and I held it without qualm.

"I suppose I should be insulted, if I knew what any of those words meant.", I retorted coldly. "Has it escaped your notice that I don't want to be here? Let me free, and I will be gone from here before you can blink." She gave a mirthless smirk.

"Insolent chit. I will do no such thing. As much as I despise the very thing you represent, I won't go against mirthadra's wishes. But I have my eyes on you, make no mistake." Giving me one last, baleful look, the woman turned her back and walked away through the barrier. I couldn't suppress a low hiss. How dare she warn me after her people had abducted and imprisoned me?!

Still, I wondered about her words… Alshera, what did that mean? Heritage of a harellan… That had to refer to my parents, in some way. Surveying the ruined state of my dress, it seemed practical to use the spare clothes, although I begrudged taking any helpful thing from these people. But maybe this wasn't the right time to be petty…

As I changed behind the folding screen, it dawned on me that I fit even less into this world of elves than I fit into the world of humans at home. The tunic and breeches were too tight and just a bit short. Not tailored to my height and figure. Taking after my father, I was taller than most female elves I'd ever met, and I'd never been as willowy as them. Slender, yes, but with… more, in certain places. The human part, I reckoned. Readjusting the fabric several times still did not help the pinching sensation around my waist and chest. I still fidgeted around as I emerged from the sheltered corner, not noticing at first that someone had entered.

"Darn these bag-of-bones elves…" My cursing was answered by a slight cough. I looked up to find Solas standing there in the archway. He held an assortment of books in one hand and regarded me with a neutral sort of interest. No armour or fur hood today. Instead, he donned a closely fitted linen shift that bore next to no adornment. The only thing that stuck out was the blackened bone he wore around his neck, resting against his chest. It looked like the jawbone of some animal. A charm, maybe? Talisman? But other than that, nothing there to distract from his face.

Oddly, the stark simplicity brought out the acuity in his aquiline features and gave his whole appearance a striking sharpness. Or maybe it just struck me because all I had seen of him yesterday had been shrouded by dimness. In the daylight, he was… arresting. I had no better word to describe him.

"Good morning, Arlenna.", my captor greeted me politely. As he stepped into the room, I noticed an effortless, feline grace to his movements that both unsettled and intrigued me. Once again, I had the feeling that I faced a man both intelligent and dangerous, driven by a purpose too convoluted for me to understand. I watched him warily. "The clothes I asked to be provided do not suit your needs?" Solas settled the books beside the food tray and looked me over. A muscle in his cheek twitched.

"They are too snug… Made for someone with less…", I trailed away. "I must look ridiculous." He inclined his head slightly, betraying nothing of his true thoughts. This man could likely spin the most fantastic lies without batting an eyelid. I ought to be careful.

"Not ridiculous.", he said in a measured tone. Always so calm and tempered. Something very close to amusement flickered in his gaze, although it fled ever so quickly. "I hope you found a little rest last night, however brief it was." I noticed that he kept a careful distance to me at the far side of the room, his stance deliberately relaxed. Did he take care not to startle or crowd me? He'd promised that nobody would harm me, but of course I didn't trust that promise one bit.

"As much as possible after one has been kidnapped and imprisoned against their will." Control your sharp tongue, Arlenna., a voice that sounded suspiciously like my mother's whispered. Yet for some reason, the corner of Solas' mouth quirked. Just a little.

"Still prickly, I see. I suppose that's understandable, after what happened to you." With that same maddening calmness as yesterday, he sat down on an elaborate chair. Did anything ever throw this man off balance? For that youthful appearance, he seemed to possess an abundance of self-control that defied to be rattled. Although, when I had spoken so recklessly about my mother the day before, I'd seen what he was capable of when that façade slipped…

"You are not quite what I expected. Then again… What could have been expected of you?", he pondered, more as though talking to himself. "You might not realize how… peculiar your existence is." I wondered if he made a habit of phrasing things in a deliberately condescending way. It stung, and I knew what he was referring to.

"You can state it bluntly. I'm an oddity. Is this where you reveal to me that I couldn't possibly be my parents' daughter? Because I was born an elf? Save it. I have heard every possible wild tale." My remark had been meant to put him in his place, yet Solas just looked at me. Those unfathomable eyes… they seemed to look right through me. I shuddered.

"I believe you have. You are your parents' daughter, for sure. There is much of both of them in you. Never doubt it." That stopped me short. I had no immediate riposte, and so he went on. "There have been others like you, a long time ago. In an age where our people's bloodlines were not yet weakened. Human memory is poor, and short. The Dalish, on the other hand, have exiled the tales of such children from their lore. They frown on all unisons that might thin elven blood. Nobody remembers the elvhenborn anymore. Or rather… Almost nobody. I do remember." Subconsciously, I stepped a little closer. What he said stirred a strange longing in me, a wish to learn more about where I had come from, and why. For most of my life, the strange circumstances of my birth had denied me to feel a sense of belonging. Outside of my family – to whom it made no difference if I was elf or human – I'd lived as an outsider. Neither this nor that. Neither human nor elf. Not fully excluded, but not earnestly welcomed either.

"There have been others like me? Are there now?", I asked, forgetting even to be petulant for once. I'd surprised him. His face lost some of its etched lines. Softened. He looked almost amiable now.

"There have, I-Am-Fated. But… I'm sorry, as of right now, you are the only one I know of. The first of your kind since… a thousand years, I suspect." Disappointment must have somehow shown on my face, for Solas made a little movement with one hand, as though reaching for me, but stopped himself. I averted my gaze into the distance.

"So… is that what your edgy-woman meant with that word? I am… an alshera, from the heritage of a harellan?" He looked suddenly taken aback, frowning.

"Edgy? You mean Linala? She is not my… In any case, she is my sovereign advisor. Did she say that to you?" It sounded as though he did not agree with whatever Linala had said. His expression turned forbidding, even some mild form of angry for a short moment before he composed himself again.

"I must apologize on her behalf. Linala has some… radical beliefs, as do a few of my most devoted followers. Harellan…. It means 'traitor to one's kin'. She was referring to your mother, who refused to join my cause and is therefore viewed as a traitor to this… elven society here." I glowered at him.

"That's funny, because my kin would say exactly the same of you, Dread Wolf." Solas sighed and nodded heavily.

"Do not be too quick to judge. There is a lot that you have yet to understand." There he went again, treating me like a child. It irritated me to no end. I've had enough of his attitude.

"I understand that you abducted me, probably giving my parents a heart-attack, put me here, and let your followers insult me on top of that. How, pray tell, am I not supposed to judge?!", I snarled. Solas lifted one hand to rub over his forehead as though dispersing a rising headache. Even through my frayed patience, I noticed the agile motion of his wrist, the nimble elegance of those long fingers.

"Sit.", he said. Then, more softly he added. "Please." In a streak of resignation, I slumped down into the second chair on the other side of the small table and picked up a piece of white bread from the food tray. Chewing it with a grudge, I avoided Dread Wolf's gaze. I had better remember that name, since the appearance of this man betrayed nothing of the cunning predator he hid inside. I'd seen it in the dream he'd so ignorantly invaded. A beast… Black fur and claw. Six eyes, piercing, filled with ancient guile. A wolf. A man. Both, somehow.

"You did not ask me about the other word. Alshera.", I head him say. I could feel his gaze on me, yet I pretended great interest in the details of an ivy vine around a column.

"What does it matter? Will it help me get home?" That question came out without a real hope for a straight answer.

"No. But it might help you understand why you are not home." I glanced at him and caught… genuine sympathy in his eyes. Against my better judgement, I turned to him. "The closest translation of alshera would be… Conduit. A very old, elven name for a mage with… specific skills. They are rare. Only one in every generation."

"What skills?" Solas seemed to ponder his answer for the longest time yet, as if he wanted to weigh his words very carefully.

"With proper training, Conduits can siphon great amounts of energy directly from the Fade, in ways other mages could only accomplish through abusing lyrium. It is a very powerful and very dangerous ability. Yesterday, when your anger overtook you, you used this ability unconsciously, but you were unprotected. If I hadn't stopped you, you could have lost yourself. That cannot happen again. You have to learn how to control your ability, and no Circle mage or keeper will be able to teach you. But I can."

I remembered the fire that had surfaced from me and how it had burned out of control, almost consuming me. He was right. I had almost gotten lost in the surging tides of fury, the inferno conjured from the depths of my being. Solas had been the cause of that storm, yet he'd also… put me right again. Kept me from unravelling. Still…

"I don't quite believe that you are offering me this out of the goodness of your heart. And besides… Are you not some sort of expert on the Fade? Why would you even need a… Conduit?" His expression grew shuttered just a bit too swiftly.

"So you do know something about me. What have your parents told you?" It didn't escape me that he avoided answering my question. I narrowed my eyes suspiciously.

"They told me nothing. They do not speak of you, ever. But correspondences aren't hidden away in our household. I gathered a few things from reading letters here and there. You are a mage with no equal, or so they say. Why do you need the abilities of someone who hasn't even passed their Harrowing yet?" My words seemed to have hit some weak point. Solas looked… hurt, briefly. He examined the rune-covered spine of a book much more intensely than it merited.

"I see. I am an expert on the Fade, and I connect to it more easily than any living being of this age. But that has a simple reason. I have walked a world in which the Veil had not yet existed. A whole, undivided world. And although I know more about the Fade than you can imagine, I am still restricted by its rules, its gateways. The Veil. You, on the other hand, were born with one tiny difference between you and other mages. Tiny, and yet so vast at the same time. For you, the Veil does not exist." He suddenly stood and began pacing the room, the look on his face completely taken up by concentration. Like a scholar trying to figure out an unsolvable equation.

"No, no. That is not right. It exists, but you… Ignore it. Your connection to the Fade is… stronger than the Veil. No, I am phrasing it wrong. It's… above the Veil. On a higher level. The way instinct is above any conscious thought." His line of reasoning was beyond me. I felt confused and a little frightened. If I really had such a unique ability, I would have been aware of it, wouldn't I? Or at least the Circle would have known…

"Am I supposed to understand any of this?" My voice must have been weak. He sought my eyes with his. Their strange, undefinable colour seemed to root me to the place. I saw fierce purpose there, of such magnitude that nothing could ever turn him from the path he'd chosen. I knew not where that path led, but behind his enigmatic gaze I sensed him dwelling inside a prison of his own making. I realized with alarm that he was standing much too close, body angled toward me. Yet I could not move. Frozen, not by magic. But by the intense regard of a being whose complexity felt nearly overwhelming. Fingers brushed my arm. Gently. Almost too light to be called a touch at all.

"Let me teach you, and I give you my word that I shall only ask you one favour. One thing I cannot do, but you can. Let me show you how you can control and even harness your power, how to use your true potential. And when what I need you to do is done, I will let you go home." Such honesty in those words, in the depth of his eyes… Be careful, reason warned me. Do not easily believe anything he says. The bargain Solas offered did not sound so terribly bad. Yet it had this one giant, blatant catch that could not be ignored.

"What favour?", I asked. Why did I sound breathless? He sobered instantaneously at my question, straightening. It broke the disturbing magic of his thorough gaze, releasing me from its spell.

"I… I cannot tell you, yet. But I will explain, in due time." I shook my head, irritated.

"Has anyone ever told you that keeping secrets is not the best way to win someone's trust? Especially when you made such a sorry mess of it to begin with?" To my utter astonishment, he… smiled. Damnation. It was like watching the sun flood a shadowed valley, taking all severity away from his face and leaving behind… an actual person. Before, everything about him had issued distance, cool single-mindedness, as those haughty statues that flanked Hightown Square and looked down on pesky mortals from their pedestals. His thoughts and matters were likely long-winded mazes to simple beings. I could neither understand nor read him, for sure. But his smile… Made him more tangible, less… unknowable, elusive. For the first time, I felt as though I spoke to a real man.

"I do not expect you to trust me in the matter of a day. But… at least you did not try to attack me.", Solas interrupted my disturbing ruminations. "Please think about what I said. I brought you some books on the Fade and exercises for dream awareness. Reading them is a good start for your studies." He surveyed me for a long moment, deliberating. "Did you have a favourite pastime at home?" The question caught me completely off guard. I looked at him blankly. He cleared his throat.

"As a gesture of goodwill… I would like to make your stay here comfortable. Var'Thenerasan might seem far from all civilization, but I am sure I can provide you with some entertainment in your free time. What do you enjoy doing?" I wondered if me not attacking him had miraculously changed his mood from solemn to… well, whatever this was. Cheerful? No, that word didn't suit him at all. Enthusiastic? Yes, that. When I still did not answer, Solas lifted a hand to his chin, as if pondering some great mystery.

"Something musical, likely. Singing? The lute?", he mused. He'd known my mother well, after all. Singing and playing the lute were safe assumptions.

"I'm sad to say that I can't carry a tune to save my life, and I never much cared for the lute.", I murmured a bit meekly. "I doubt you can provide my favourite pastime – besides reading – here. At home… I play the pianoforte. It's been all the rage among society for a decade now. You probably don't know it – it's an instrument from Orleis-" But he interrupted me with a mock frown.

"I know the pianoforte. I shall see what I can do.", he nodded to himself, leaving me baffled. Where the hell would he even get a pianoforte, out in the woods? Impossible. Yet Solas didn't look like someone worried about a promise they wouldn't be able to keep. Instead, he threw me an imploring look. "Do not forget to read these." Then he tapped the books he'd brought with two long fingers and bowed. I stared after him as the entirety of our conversation flashed through my mind in mere seconds. And I couldn't refrain from asking myself… What on earth had just happened?