When Saga awoke the next morning she found herself back in her bed, unable to recall how she got there. She assumed she must have walked back with Solas. Her memory was still full of glitches, it seemed. But she did remember the rest of yesterday's events and, laying there staring at the ceiling, she let them pass before her mind's eye once more. Meeting the Inquisitor and his advisors. Varric, Iron Bull. A cold shower. The Tavern. It was all there. So her memory was able to record new events, which counted for something. With a pang of guilt so painful it made her wince, she remembered what she did at the end of the day. Ran through Skyhold like a raving madwoman, hit four guards, took one of them hostage and threatened to slit his throat. What was going on with her…? The urge to be under the firmament, to have an unobstructed, clear view of the stars, it had been so… visceral. As if her life had depended on it. Yet, it was no excuse for her behavior. People got hurt because she had had a phobic episode. That sound in her head. The pain had been excruciating. Her throat tightened just thinking about it. She feared it. Not so much the pain itself, but what it made her do to make it stop.
She decided to do something about it and seek out the guard to apologize, then go with Solas to look at her gear. If the guard blamed her, she would take it. If she was to be punished, she would accept responsibility. Saga took a deep breath, then pulled back the blanket and got up. Sunlight shone through the small colored glass window embedded in the front wall of her room. She could hear the busy noises of the courtyard. Dogs barking. A smith hammering on his anvil. People talking, laughing, shouting. The sounds of the everyday grind of this world continuing as if nothing had happened yesterday. It left a stale taste in her mouth. But, she mused, those people probably had seen things a lot worse in the civil war between the rebel mages and the Templars than a crazy woman. She took off her tunic and went to the small table in the corner of the room, on which sat a large bowl filled with fresh water. A carefully folded, clean cloth hung over its rim. Someone must have placed it there yesterday when she had been taking the tour with Varric. She took the cloth, dipped it into the water and gave herself a wash. When she looked down at her naked body, the black bruises starting to turn purple, the green ones fading into yellow at the edges, a node flashed in the analyst's lexicon. Sink, towel, water, wash, bath… mirror. There were no mirrors. Saga realized she had no idea what her face looked like. She walked back to the sink to look into the water, but it was too dark inside the room to make out much. Her hair was short, curly and dark, that much she knew just by touching it and having looked at the single hairs she had lost while showering yesterday. But other than that, she had no idea. Saga looked down at her outstretched hands, turning them upward and downward to examine the palms and backs of them. No calluses. Trimmed nails with a little bit of dirt still under them that hadn't come out in the quick lathering she had given herself. A few tiny marks on a knuckle here, a finger there. How did I get them? What stories lay hidden in the scar tissue? The backs of her hands were veined, but smooth. Those were not the hands of a farmer or a warrior. Yet she fought off those men yesterday with unsettling ease. What am I? Slowly she lifted her hands and touched her face. It felt soft and even. How old am I?
A knock on the door startled her.
„Saga? It's Solas, may I come in?"
Quickly she looked around for her clothes. That won't happen again, she thought.
„Just a second!"
Saga dressed herself in a hurry, stepped into the brown leather pants and the wine red shirt she had been given and threw over the matching leather jacket.
„Come in!"
The door opened and in peeked Solas, a little cautiously, as if he didn't quite trust her to have learned her lesson from yesterday's awkward situation. When he saw she had appropriately covered herself, he swung open the door and took a few steps inside.
„Good morning. How are you feeling?", he asked.
„Fine. Fine, thank you", Saga said hastily. „How are the guards? Do you know?"
„I do. They have been treated. Their injuries were not severe", Solas said. Saga felt relieved. But there was one other matter. „And… the other one?"
Solas folded his arms behind his back. His posture was very straight, almost stiff. Yet, his slender, athletic build lent him an elegant air. He inclined his head ever so slightly. „He is in good health. After all you did not physically harm him. Don't be surprised however, should he steer clear of you. You did give him quite the scare. And not only him, to be honest."
Saga swallowed hard. This was a painful situation. She started pacing around the room. Solas just stood there, proud and regal.
„I'm sorry, I… don't know what happened, I…"
„I think you know very well what happened", Solas interrupted. „It is the why that is still unclear. And since we now know you are quite the capable fighter with a rather stubborn head, I believe it is important you retrieve your memory sooner rather than later. You need to be able to control whatever it was that drove you outside. I won't be able to guarantee your safety otherwise."
What had started as a rather harsh lecture turned markedly softer towards the end, Saga noticed. The elf did feel responsible for her. The reason, however, eluded her. He had been ordered to watch her by the Inquisitor, but Solas obviously chafed at the hierarchical structure of the Inquisition and only grudgingly submitted himself to Ragnar's authority.
„Why is that so important to you? I am of no use to you and the Inquisition. All I do is take up resources better deployed in the war effort, without contributing anything. I eat your food, take up space. Keep you from your other duties, that you must surely have. If it weren't for the Inquisitor's paranoia that makes him want to keep me on a short leash, he'd have thrown me out already. You say you believe I'm innocent. Then let me go! I'm useless baggage to you and I'm nothing but a parasite to the Inquisition…"
Saga had talked herself into an indignant, self-critical rage. Solas had listened to her helpless rant in patient silence, but his features darkened with every word she uttered.
„I decidedly disagree. Right now, however, you are drowning yourself in self-pity, and that is indeed useless baggage. So please, stop it. It is not helping your situation."
Saga stared at him, feeling awkward. What an ungrateful show she had put on.
„You're right. I'm sorry. It's just… I feel lost here, Solas. Nothing makes sense. And last night, I just knew, every fiber in my being just knew that I needed to see… the sky! The stars! They were all that made sense to me then." She looked at him, her eyes glistening with a yearning, a longing that Solas recognized all too well. But he didn't say anything. Didn't show her just how much he understood her feelings, better even than she did. All he decided to give was a small, measured nod, while his heart was weighed down with sorrow.
„There is no need to apologize, Saga. It is understandable you are having trouble to adapt to a land you do not remember, a land you probably cannot remember because you have never seen it before. How about this: Let's move your quarters upstairs. There is a hatch leading up to the top of this tower. You can open it and see the stars, shielded from the fires in the courtyard. What do you think?"
Saga's face lit up with a wide smile.
„Yes! Oh, thank you, Solas!" In an emotional outburst of gratitude she beelined straight for him and hugged the elf.
„Oh! Uh…" Solas stiffened in surprise but when the human woman didn't let go immediately and continued pressing herself against his chest, he gave her a tentative, wooden pat on the back, before finally moving away from her, forcing her to break off the embrace.
She looked at him, wearing a relieved expression. Happy, even. He had not expected his proposal to have such a profound effect and the closeness it had prompted made him uneasy. He liked to keep his personal relationships… austere. Especially with non-elves. But he couldn't help to be touched by this honest, mysterious creature in front of him. There was something strange and fascinating about her. She was… otherworldly.
„Well…", he broke the silence. „Are you ready to go? You can take a small breakfast in the Main Hall on our way to the Undercroft."
„Yes, right away. What is that?", she asked. She sat on a crate to put on her boots.
„You'll see when we get there."
Saga laughed. The sound startled him. No, not the sound. The fact that he found it… pleasant.
„Are you always so elusive? I should remember not to expect any straight answers from you. Is that an elf thing?", she asked while she followed him outside into a crisp and sunny morning.
„Not particularly, no. But I have spent most of my youth and adulthood wandering the woods alone, steering clear of others, and traveling the Fade in my dreams, more often conversing with spirits than with people in the waking world. I guess that makes it my own… thing. Impatience however is definitely a human trait, in my experience." There was an ironic glint in his eye. „I just don't see any good reason why I should describe something to you which you are going to see for yourself anyway in a few minutes."
„Very word-efficient of you."
„I choose my words carefully, yes. You think that silly?"
„No, no no. Of course not… touchy.", she said with a smirk.
Harmlessly bantering back and forth, they walked the balustrade, stairs down, across the ward, stairs up and to the Main Hall. Upon entering they were greeted by Varric, who was sitting at a table littered with papers that stood to the right side of the entrance. He interrupted his reading when he saw the two enter to greet them.
„Hey there, good morning! Well, did our little stargazer sleep well?"
„Morning Varric.", Saga said. „Yes actually. I try not to think about the scene I made before though."
Varric waved his hand.
„Ah, don't worry about it. The guards have been hurt worse in their own drunken bar fights and stranger things have happened. Like when that Avvar guy attacked Skyhold with a goat. Come on, grab a bite." He gestured towards another table further into the hall, decked with bread, cheese and fruit.
„A guy rode into battle on a goat?", Saga asked. „Was he a dwarf like you?"
For some reason, this made Varric laugh. „Ha! No, on the contrary, the Avvar are huge. He didn't ride it, he threw it at the castle walls."
An incredulous snort escaped her. „What?!"
„Yeah. See? Don't worry about yesterday."
Saga sat down with Solas and Varric to have breakfast. Solas ate noticeably little, while Varric dug in with the healthy gusto befitting a man who does not spurn worldly pleasures. Saga helped herself to a few slices of freshly baked sour dough bread, its dark crust powdered with flour and the juicy inside specked with caraway seeds, some fruit and sheep's milk cheese. Solas, already finished with his sparse meal, noticed how Saga kept looking over the table as if searching for something.
„Do you need anything else?", he asked.
„Uh… No. I mean, I don't think so."
„Mhwhhy? Mwhhat's the matter? Don't like the cheese?" Varric mumbled while chewing on a slice of cold roast.
„No, it's delicious actually.", Saga said. „I'm sorry, I don't want to seem ungrateful. This is truly a feast."
„Tell us, you look like you are missing something.", Solas encouraged her.
Saga breathed out audibly, as if berating herself for having let show that something was indeed bothering her.
„I get the same feeling like yesterday in the bathhouse. I implicitly expect something to be here, in the context of breakfast, but it isn't there. It's the absence of something that makes me… almost remember what it is."
„Huh." Varric stopped chewing. „Well, what could you possibly miss? We have bread, cheese, sausages, meat, milk, even fruit…"
„Please, gentlemen", the haughty voice of a woman sounded. „It is clear that none of you peasants could possibly know what ingredient a proper breakfast makes." The language she chose was elegant, yet abrasive, like a delicate scarf that turned out to be made of sand paper.
Saga looked up to the where that polite and uncomfortably dismissive voice originated from. Tall and slender, radiant skin like dark chocolate, the woman sauntered towards them, clad in richly ornamented, figure-hugging clothing that emphasized her rather impressive bust and added to her regal aura that immediately told anyone who gazed upon her where their place was in comparison to her. Beneath. She was menacingly beautiful. Saga felt her jaw drop.
„It is a pleasure to finally meet you in an awake as well as coherent state, my dear", the woman said and smiled at Saga like a viper. „My name is Madame Vivienne, First Enchanter of Montsimmard and royal advisor to Empress Celene of Orlais."
Saga regained her composure. Her skin prickled. From the corner of her eye she noticed how Solas and Varric slightly tensed up. The First Enchanter hadn't even acknowledged their presence.
„I trust you are being treated courteously?", she asked.
The elitist air that surrounded Vivienne put Saga off from the start. She couldn't justify it rationally. All she had was the knot that formed in her belly and the tension she felt in her muscles the moment she had heard her speak. Falseness dripped off her gorgeous outer shell like poison glistened on a toad's back. She scared her.
Better say as little as possible. „Yes, thank you. Can't complain."
„Wonderful. If you need anything, please, do not hesitate to come to me, my dear. I understand that some aspects of civilized life are severely lacking out here and I would be happy to help you get accustomed. You will find me just up there, on the balcony", she said and pointed upwards. There was indeed a balcony on the inside of the Main Hall, right above the entrance. It also opened out onto the courtyard, enabling Vivienne to always have an eye on events and not be seen herself as she perched high in her nest.
„That's… very kind of you, thanks", Saga said politely, even though she felt incredibly uncomfortable under Vivienne's intense gaze. A strong tug at her insides told her to be careful never to owe this woman anything.
But then, Vivienne opened the casket. Saga hadn't even realized she had been carrying it in her right hand from the start.
„Let me offer you this as a welcoming present." Vivienne placed the small box on the table directly in front of Saga, who seemed to have fallen into some kind of unresponsive stupor. „Welcome to Skyhold, my dear. Please, enjoy yourself. Gentlemen."
And off she went.
Varric sighed as he watched her take her leave. „Proud as a peacock. Be careful with that one, Saga."
But Saga didn't seem to hear him.
„Saga?", he asked and carefully touched her arm. „Saga, are you alright? What's wrong?
Solas chuckled. Varric didn't find that amusing in the slightest.
„What's so funny? She's not… what's wrong with her?!"
„Nothing is wrong, Varric. Look at her. She is in a better place."
And indeed, Saga had brought up the box to her nose and smelled its contents with her eyes closed, a wide smile on her lips.
„Just because of a few heaps of that disgusting stuff?!"
„I don't see the appeal either, for my own reasons, but Saga obviously found what she was missing at breakfast."
She finally opened her eyes and looked at her two companions with glee.
„Coffee!"
