Ellana didn't join them until a time that only the most charitable could call morning. She ran through the forest as swiftly as she ran through the halls of Skyhold, though Solas imagined the trees were easier to dodge than the people. Her cheeks were colored, and a slight sheen of sweat graced her brow. When she lifted the hem of her shirt to wipe her forehead, he couldn't stop his eyes from tracing over the bared skin. Stop it, he told himself. He forced himself to look at his hands. She didn't notice.
"I was hunting with my mother," she said.
"I see. No apology for our guest?" asked the Keeper.
He started to protest that none was needed when she surprised him with a grin. "My Keeper always said that apologies were the surest way to take blame no one was giving. And he was the wisest man I've ever known." She dropped the satchel she carried onto the ground. "Rather than an apology, I brought a gift. Fresh meat, skinned and ready to cook, along with some bread my mother offered. Clean shots, no extra blood."
The Keeper inclined his head in approval, and Solas leaned forward. "You know how to use a bow?"
She spoke over her shoulder as she gathered kindling for a fire. "No child of my mother's was allowed not to, magic or no. My sister favors the dagger more, but we can all shoot to some degree. A very small degree, in my case. So before you ask why I never told anyone in Skyhold, the reason is in that bag. My mother made every kill. I mostly hunted leaves and a few innocent patches of dirt."
He laughed. She turned back with an armful of branches and dumped them inelegantly in a heap. Her fingers sent a casual burst of flame into their center before she turned around for larger pieces of wood. The Keeper hissed lightly, and she waved her hand at him. "This is faster."
"And what do we need speed for, here in these woods? The Dalish don't rush, child."
She didn't answer. When she returned with the wood she needed, as well as the long sticks for skewers, she handed the food around and plopped on the ground. Her voice was brittle as she picked up the thread of conversation again. "Perhaps the Dalish aren't always right."
Solas glanced at her sharply, but she seemed to be following her own internal roads. The Keeper nodded. "Perhaps. And while we are one People, we do not all follow the same stars. Still, it need not be a choice, Dalish or none." At the last, the Keeper's eyes flickered to Solas, and he curled his lip at the barely hidden message. The man was sworn to Mythal, almost certainly the reason he felt any comfort at all around him, and Mythal had never minced words either. The Keeper looked back to Ellana and said in a more normal voice, "Will you sing a prayer to please an old man?"
She pulled a face. Solas guiltily dropped the bread he'd been raising to his mouth. Of course they would pray. The prayers in the night and the morning meals had been silent, personal, and he'd used the time to empty his mind and search for calm within. He knew better than to send wishes out into the world like so many ravens. The messages would never be read. But he'd never paid much attention to Dalish rituals, and a public prayer was more than he knew how to perform. Would they expect him to join? Surely Ellana at least would realize he couldn't.
Nothing to be done but wait and watch. He was curious to see what she would do now that she knew the truth of her gods. They'd never really discussed her faith. Even before the night he'd taken away her markings, it had only made them angry and sad in turns to discuss anything about her people. Her gods would have been even worse, like as not. The Herald of Andraste hadn't been allowed to show signs of following an alien religion, so there'd never been a reason for him to start the argument. It startled him to realize he didn't know what she'd even believed before.
A question for another time. For now he sat motionless as she launched into a simple tune with simple words. It was a childish song about gratitude, clearly traditional but not ceremonial, and he relaxed a little. This was no ritual and held no deep meaning, and he'd never been one to begrudge general thankfulness. Besides, it wasn't unpleasant to sit in the forest and listen to her sing.
When she finished, he opened his mouth to compliment her voice, but her eyes stayed closed. He stilled his tongue immediately and stiffened as words poured out of her. "Creators, gods young and old, watch and care for Lavellan in the times you've sent. We thank you for the sky over us, the land under us, the air that sustains us, and the water that cleanses us before your sight. May our troubles be lightened and our joys be deepened by the workings of your hands. Protect us against the Wolf in the night who seeks to turn us away from the path you lay in front of us. Sylaise and Mythal be honored by the duties we undertake in their name. This is our prayer."
She opened her eyes and gave him a skittish look, clearly worried that he would disapprove of so much religion. She needn't have. He was too stunned to disapprove. Her words had been so earnest, her belief so sincere, and he could have kicked himself for his foolishness. He'd taken away the physical marks on her face, thinking that was all there was to it. As though her faith lived on her face instead of in her heart. He hadn't explained anything at all about the gods themselves and their complete lack of decency, let alone divinity. Prideful and arrogant as always, Solas. Of course the marks on her soul were deeper, more heartfelt than some silly facial tattoos. She'd lost the outward shackles but was bound as tightly as ever.
As for her exhortations against the Wolf, they bothered him less than his former enemies would have thought possible. In those she may have a point. If only she'd prayed harder years ago to keep him away from the world. From her.
Ellana studied him, and he wondered what she saw on his face. "I'm sorry I couldn't mention your own god, but I didn't know…" She trailed off.
He tried to reassure her. "The Creators would understand and honor your intentions." Oh, how the lie cost him, but he couldn't bring himself to take away from the sweet sincerity of her prayer. He'd never expected something so ugly to be made so beautiful. The small smile she gifted to him was almost enough to soothe the ache of his heart.
They spent the afternoon discussing magic, and Ellana started to believe that maybe this wouldn't be the worst day she'd spent since she dropped a mountain on her own head. It was easier to keep her wandering mind focused when she was using it to try to describe the feelings of the mark in her hand or the way the rifts in the Veil both feared and craved her. Much of what she said she'd never tried to vocalize to anyone, not even in the Inquisition, but the challenge was exactly what she needed today. As she talked, it was like old times in the rotunda, debating and theorizing about her abilities and their origin. She could almost forget that he'd certainly known more than he'd ever shared with her about both.
Neither man understood how a hole in reality could have a personality and she had little success explaining it, but she knew it was true. Some rifts were curious, others terrified, and even more were angry. Solas theorized that the types of demons that came through it changed it somehow, or the flavors of the piece of Fade it revealed were leaking through. She allowed that either might be true, but she was personally convinced that they were created that way. One thing that was real, even after all this time, was that he never dismissed her thoughts about her powers even when he disagreed, so he shrugged when she suggested it. "If lyrium can live, why not a rift? It may not be a coincidence that Corypheus sought them both at the same time."
"Does that mean Eluvians are alive? He wanted those, too."
Solas shook his head. "No, I don't believe so. They were created by the ancient elves. I saw the first one created. In the Fade, long ago."
The Keeper leaned forward. "Yes, tell me about these dream walks of yours. I would hear more of the past." Solas began his tales of the Fade, some she'd heard and some new, and she stretched out on the grass next to the remains of the fire and listened to him speak.
With her eyes closed and exhaustion blunting the edges of her consciousness, she relaxed into his words. She drifted on the melody of his voice, the sounds blurring into each other and crowding like leaves in a whirlpool. She fell in among them and let its movement carry her where it would. The spiral of her soul brought her visions, almost real enough to touch. He'd never left. He was here as her friend, and they were dancing through the steps of courtship as easily as they'd danced on the balcony at Halamshiral. They took meals with her family and with her mentor not in awkward half-looks and arguments, but to widen the circle of their love to include her past as well as her present. The woods of her home became a backdrop for the moment when she could melt into him, carrying no fear in her heart.
She was so caught up in the false memories her mind was weaving that her hand stretched out to find him, wanting to thread her fingers through his own. Before she could, a cheerful greeting jerked her awake. She blushed and pulled her hand back. She covered the movement by running it through her hair as she sat up. Nuriel grinned at them all from behind a tree. She approached at the Keeper's signal, and Ellana saw a human woman following her. The Keeper rose to greet her. Ellana scrambled to follow when she recognized the crests on her armor.
Margot was the captain of the new Duchess's guard after the last Duke had tried, unsuccessfully, to eliminate her Clan. It had never been confirmed, but she suspected the Venatori had targeted her family specifically, and through them her, in the hopes of distracting her. Not that it had done them much good, the bastards. She'd asked Dorian to take a very pointed message back to the Imperium on her behalf, and his dark agreement had done her heart good. But one thing they had taken from her was her willingness to maintain the connection with her home that she'd wanted, in case they tried again. She hadn't dared visit physically, until now. The Venatori had stolen part of her rapidly shrinking life, and if she'd hated them for nothing else, she would have hated them for that.
Josephine's carefully chosen successor was supportive of the Dalish, allowing them freer travel over the lands. Even if pockets of humans still resented them, the majority were peaceful. Lavellan had never been safer, but a human warrior in the camp still put Ellana on edge, despite the fact she'd been invited.
The Keeper had no such reservations. "Welcome to Lavellan, Captain. I hope your travels were safe."
"Thanks, Keeper. We hit some bandits on the road, but some anonymous elf had warned the Duchess so we were prepared. Ran some of 'em off, ran more of 'em through. The others are still scattered about here and there." She peered at them both. "Wasn't one of yours, was it?"
The Keeper shook his head, and Margot shrugged. "Whoever it was did us all a good turn. But that's not what I came here for."
Nuriel had captured Solas and was talking at him animatedly several yards away. His back was to Ellana which meant her sister's face was fully visible under a shaft of sunlight through the trees. Her heart sank when she saw how lit it was from within as well as without.
Her sister had always been a flirt, prone to fits of obsession about a new man with every letter she wrote, so she'd paid little attention to the clear, burgeoning crush on her former companion. Ellana had certainly enjoyed her own fantasies of the elves who traveled from other Clans in search of mates, friends, or new paths to follow, and they'd faded into nothing more than gentle memories when they left. Nuriel had stepped into much more dangerous territories with this wanderer who'd overstayed his welcome. She'd make sure it didn't hurt her.
The Keeper's voice brought her back to the conversation at hand. "Yes, of course. You wish us to coordinate better. I concur. We can guard better, hunt better, and avoid any conflicts between our peoples. Lavellan desires to live in cooperation with you and yours."
The soldier shifted on her feet. "Right, right. That's true, and I'm hoping to get with your hunters later to hammer that out. Last thing I want is some fool sergeant stumbling across a couple of Dalish and trying to prove his stripes. But the situation has changed, obviously." Ellana knew she looked as blank as her teacher, and the guard shook her head. "The rifts up north? Demons, weird mages, the usual, only no one ever comes back? Doesn't the Inquisition tell you anything? Their leader's related to you, isn't she?"
"But I don't know anything about it!" she protested. She turned crimson as the captain considered, gave a long look at her hand, and then threw her a formal salute. "There's no need for that."
"Of course, ma'am." Margot loosened only marginally. "The Inquisition sent forces up just last week to try to deal with the situation, at the order of your Commander. We've heard nothing from them. My own boys who investigated are also gone. The Duchess is frantic to go after them, but I won't risk anyone else if we don't know what we're facing. We thought maybe your people had seen something, Keeper. I know they travel beyond our own knowledge."
"I'm afraid not. And we've had none go missing, Creators be praised. I'm sorry to have so little to offer."
"Can't be helped. The Inquisition is sending more people, some of their heavier hitters from what I understand. They'll be here in a few days. Hopefully they can do something." The woman's professional mask cracked and worry seeped through. "And my boys hold out that long."
"There's no need to wait," said Ellana. "I'm here. I'll go find them, or at least scout the area for you. I have experience in these things."
"Out of the question," said Solas beside her, and she jumped in surprise. She hadn't even seen him move. Nuriel's face held disappointment behind him. Yes, she was well on her way to being hurt. Solas continued. "It's far too risky. Your advisors kept you in the dark for a reason, Inquisitor. If they wanted you involved, they would have told you."
"What they want hardly matters. It's my decision." He sighed heavily, and she frowned. She sounded like a whiny child. Her voice deepened into the tones she used when she sat in judgment. "I can't just leave those people out there, Solas. Her people. My people. What if this is only happening because I'm here?"
"Precisely. What if this is a trap, set for the Inquisitor? They've used the perfect bait, if so. Everyone in Thedas knows the one thing that will always tempt you to action is your own people in peril."
"I don't care."
He threw up his hands. "Then we will have to care for you. Heed our counsel. Or must I write to your Commander and ask him to send extra soldiers here to carry you back to Skyhold?"
"So far the only counsel I'm hearing is coming from you. And you don't get a vote anymore." She turned to the Keeper and the captain with a questioning look.
Margot cleared her throat. "You could help, maybe, but I couldn't ask you to risk yourself for a maybe. I won't even let my own people do it."
"Perhaps a compromise," said the Keeper. "Take some of our hunters with you, for protection. They're all skilled at staying out of sight and could provide protection."
She shook her head. "No. It's too dangerous." Solas snorted. Ellana glared at him. "For them, not me. I have the mark. I know what demons I can and can't face. I've fought other mages, to kill. The hunters are good at what they do, but this is beyond their experience."
The Keeper snapped his fingers. "Of course, experience is required. Master Solas should accompany you." He looked back and forth between them when neither replied. Solas's face was irritated, and she knew her own was no happier if it looked anything like how she felt. "Unless you object."
"I object to the entire enterprise, but if she must go I'll certainly keep her from her own foolishness as much as possible."
She sighed and crossed her arms. There was no way she'd let him be more mature than she was. "He can come. He'll just leave as soon as anything difficult happens anyway."
The captain looked sorry she'd ever stepped into their part of the forest. "Okay then. I can provide you maps of the routes they were supposed to be taking. As soon as whatever of your forces they sent out arrive, I'll send them up your way. If you give me any orders for them, I'll pass those on as well. I appreciate what you're doing for us, Inquisitor. I realize this isn't why you came."
"Thank me when I find our people, Captain." She spoke to Solas without looking at him. "We'll leave in an hour. Get what you need."
"As you command, Inquisitor," he said with only a hint of sarcasm. The Keeper led him back to the main camp. She noticed vaguely that Nuriel was no longer with them, but her mind was taken up with the things she would need to do. Pack food and medicine. Recharge her magic reserves as best she could. Say goodbye to her family. Write to Leliana and Cullen to let them know what she was doing and give them a piece of her mind that she hadn't already been doing it. And leave them instructions in case she didn't come back.