Hello! Thank you again for the review! I love hearing when someone enjoys my work :) So please, if you feel any sort of way about this story, feel free to write a review! Even if you think it sucks! (Just please, try to be nice and courteous; I'm human too, you know)

Also, I do have an original novel I'm working on. It isn't published but I do have the first 3 chapters posted on my Wordpress site! If you're interested, please feel free to venture over to my profile and follow the link...

On that note, I freaking can't get the links to work? ? ? My FB and Twitter links both work, but the rest just reload my FF profile? ? ? I've redone the ones that don't work multiple times so if anyone has advice on what I'm doing wrong, please HELP! XD But both my FB and Twitter have links to my WP site as well, so you can go there too to find the chapters :)

This was by far one of my favorite chapters to write this early on :) Hope you guys enjoy as much as I did

10 - Ma Harel, Da'len

"It's good you've returned. We heard of your encounter." Josephine greets us almost the moment we walk through the Chantry doors.

"You heard?" Cassandra's voice hides worry.

"My agents in the city sent word ahead, of course." Leliana joins Josephine, Cullen right at her heels.

Cullen's eyes and mouth show the disappointment he cannot hide. "It's a shame the Templars have abandoned their senses as well as the capital."

I already had thought of what to say beforehand. "We had to do something, and now we have an opportunity."

Josephine nods her head in agreement. "Yes, and we have the opening we need to approach the Templars and the mages."

The four of them lead the way toward the War Room, Cassandra at the head. "Do we? Lord Seeker Lucius is not the man I remember."

"True," Leliana says. "He has taken the Order somewhere, but to do what? My reports have been…very odd."

"We must look into it. I'm certain not everyone in the Order will support the Lord Seeker," Cullen says.

"Or," Josephine starts, "the Herald could simply go to meet the mages in Redcliffe, instead."

Cullen jumps head of her, his face scrunched in displeasure. "You think the mage rebellion is more united? It could be ten times worse!"

I pinch the bridge of my nose between two fingers, pushing against the headache building behind my eyes. "Or you could stop bickering and make a decision."

Cassandra holds back a smile. "I agree."

"We shouldn't discount Redcliffe," Josephine says. "The mages may be worth the risk."

"They are powerful, Ambassador, but more desperate than you realize," Cassandra points out.

I shrug. "So it'll be dangerous. I've been in danger since I walked out of the Fade." I look down at the mark on my hand.

"If some among the rebel mages were responsible for what happened at the Conclave…" Cassandra eyes me, her eyes heavy with worry.

"The same could be said about the Templars," Josephine says.

Cullen sighs in defeat. "True enough. Right now, I'm not certain we have enough influence to approach the Order safely."

"Then the Inquisition needs agents in more places." Cassandra looks at me. "That's something you can help with."

"In the meantime," Josephine breathes, "we should consider other options."

They all exchange looks before retreating to their quarters. Leliana is the only one who stays.

"There is one other matter." She steps closer to me, waiting for me to finish rubbing my temples. "Several months ago, the Grey Wardens of Ferelden vanished. I sent word to those in Orlais, but…they have also disappeared. Ordinarily I wouldn't even consider the idea they're involved in all this, but the timing is…curious."

The Grey Wardens? According to Solas's travels in the Fade, Leliana had worked with the Grey Wardens during the last Blight. King Alistair and the Hero of Ferelden had been her close friends. "That…does sound odd, I agree."

"The others have disregarded my suspicion, but I cannot ignore it. Two days ago, my agents in the Hinterlands heard news of a Grey Warden by the name of Blackwall. If you have the opportunity, please seek him out. Perhaps he can put my mind at ease."

"And if he can't?"

"Then there may be more going on than we thought."

As I'm walking back to my cabin, I can't help but think of Varric's question about who, of the advisors, is the strongest. Leliana by far is the strongest of them, I decide. She hides her sorrow well.

I'm surprised to find Solas waiting outside my cabin the next morning. He inclines his head as I shut the door behind me.

"Good morning, da'len."

"Hahren," I say, raising an eyebrow. "Did you need something?"

"I was wondering if I could have a word."

I drop my pack and I pull my cloak tighter around my shoulders, blocking the sudden cold breeze. "Of course."

"As I explored the Fade, I felt the presence of an intriguing artifact in the Hinterlands. If you are willing, I would like to locate it."

"Really?" I cannot hide the excitement in my voice. He wants to take me on one of his adventures?

"Yes. Does that mean you are willing to locate it with me?"

"Of course! Leliana has a mission for us in the Hinterlands, anyway." I hesitate, rethinking my words. Would they make him think I didn't wish to go with him? That this wouldn't be important? "I mean…I'll make sure we have time. If this is important to you, it is to me as well."

"Do you mind if, once we arrive, we do this alone?"

My stomach flips. He wants to be alone…with me? "If...that's what you would prefer."

His eyes soften. "Thank you, da'len. Shall I meet you at the gates, then?"

"Yes. I'll get Cassandra and Varric."

He inclines his head and leaves. I say nothing and watch him walk away, my mouth dry.

"There's those puppy-dog eyes I mentioned."

I jump, turning and punching Varric on the arm. "You're horrible!"

He laughs. "Hey, I'm just telling you what I see, that's all."

The journey to the Hinterlands is uneventful. I spend most of the days thinking about whatever artifact Solas wishes to find. When I press him for answers, he just smiles.

"Patience, da'len. You shall see before long."

We finally reach the camp just outside the Crossroads. I turn to Varric then and he looks at me with eyebrows waggling.

"Are you leaving?" he asks.

"Yes. Solas found something in the Fade that he wants to find."

His eyes widen, his mouth twisting into a small smile. "He did now, did he?"

I grunt. "It's not what you think, Varric."

"I'm sure it isn't. I'm sure I just imagined the looks he gives you and the comment he made about your…what was it…'indomitable focus?'"

I shake my head, placing my hand against my forehead. "Do you mind letting Cassandra know that we'll be back before long?"

He's still smiling. "I'll let the Seeker know."

Solas gives me a questioning look as I walk up to him.

"Where's this artifact?" I ask.

"You do not wish to first seek out this Grey Warden?"

I shake my head. "I told you, if this is important to you, it is to me. We do this first."

I can't quite understand the look in his eyes then.

We walk in silence for a few minutes. I let him lead the way. It's only when we leave the settlement at the Crossroads that I look at him.

"Solas, may I ask a question of you?"

"What would you like to know?"

"I'd be interested in hearing your opinions on elven culture."

He glances at me, leaning against his staff. His eyes show his hesitation. "I thought you would be more interested in sharing your opinions of elven culture. You are Dalish, are you not?"

"My people come from the elves who refused to surrender when humans broke their treaty and destroyed the Dales."

His eyes widen. "Your Keeper was not wrong about that, at least. We must mark the occasion of the Dalish remembering something correctly. Perhaps we should plant a tree."

His tone had changed so abruptly, from open and friendly to condescending mockery.

I clench my fists. Maybe this wasn't such a good topic after all. "You insult my people." I cannot keep the anger out of my voice.

"They insult themselves." His voice also holds traces of frustration. "Remember, I have walked the memories of the Fade. I have seen the history the Dalish imitate."

I pause, feeling the anger in my being subside. He's right, I remember. He has seen much more than I can even begin to imagine. I sigh and let my hands relax. "Ir abelas (1), hahren. If the Dalish have done you a disservice, I would make that right. What course would you set for them that is better than what they know now?"

He stares at me for a long moment. He then sighs, the sound deep in his chest. "You are right, of course. The fault is mine, for expecting what the Dalish could never truly accomplish." He stops, making my feet come to a halt as he steps in front of me. "Ir abelas…da'len. If I can offer any understanding, you have but to ask."

I take a deep inhale of air through my teeth. He doesn't strike me as someone who likes to admit when he's wrong. Yet here he is, apologizing…

My chest lightens at the look in his eyes. He nods before moving out of the way. When we move again, he stands beside me. Our elbows are mere inches away, something I find myself oddly distracted by.

I swallow the lump now settled in my throat. "Is…elven magic different from the magic used by humans?"

He ponders for a brief moment. "No, and yes. Magic is magic, just as water is water, but it can be used in different ways. Dalish magic is more…practical, not needing Chantry approval, although they still frown on blood magic. Superstition. Much of it is more subtle, a legacy from when elves were immortal."

My eyes widen. So then the legends of elven immortality had been true? "Did they use magic to increase their lifespan?"

"No, it was simply part of being elven."

I cannot stop the sharp intake of breath through my teeth. He chuckles in response.

"The subtle beauty of their magic was the effect, not the cause, of their nature. Some spells took years to cast. Echoes would linger for centuries, harmonizing with new magic in an unending symphony." He inhales. "It must have been beautiful."

His voice holds such adoration. The rhythm of his words, yet again, memorize me almost as much as the Fade captivates him.

It takes a moment for me to pull myself from the trance of his words. "You said that the censure against blood magic was a superstition…"

"I did. It's…fortunate Cassandra is not with us."

I'm suddenly glad of it as well.

"Most modern cultures forbid blood magic. Publicly, even Tevinter disapproves of it. But as I said, magic is magic. It matters only in how it is used."

"What about the elves from before our time?"

"The Dalish strive to remember Halamshiral, but Halamshiral was merely a fumbling attempt to recreate a forgotten land."

"Arlathan," I breathe.

He nods. "Elvhenan was the empire, and Arlathan its greatest city. A place of magic and beauty, lost to time."

"You've studied ancient elves?" I don't bother to hide the excitement in my voice. "What else do you know of Arlathan?"

"We hear stories of them living in trees and imagine wooden ramps or Dalish aravels. Imagine instead spires of crystal twining through the branches, palaces floating among the clouds. Imagine beings who lived forever, for whom magic was as natural as breathing." He looks at me then. "That is what was lost."

I still my feet, closing my eyes, trying to picture what he describes. Crystal and trees as one. Magic floating in the air like an entity all its own, flowing through everything that moves. It makes my heart ache.

When I open my eyes, it's to find Solas studying me, taking in the sadness in my face. I clear my throat, pushing that sadness down where he cannot see. "Are…all Dalish elves like my clan?"

He seems to realize how intently he is staring at me, then. He blinks and shakes his head just slightly, again joining me at my side as we continue walking. "No. Your clan was unique in having enough interest in human affairs to send you to spy upon the Divine's meeting. As your clans have been separate for so long, they have all changed, adapting to the lands in which they live. Some are no more than bandits, others trade freely with humans — such as yours — and some have disappeared entirely into the forest."

"What about elves living in human cities?"

"The culture in alienages or among the slaves of Tevinter is like any of the impoverished and powerless. They cling to memories of a better past and practice a few rituals to distinguish themselves from humans." He glances at me. "How have your wards been coming along?"

"I—" I pause. "They could be better."

"Then practice while we walk. I fear we may be forced to enter battle and it would be best if you are prepared."

I study the look in his eyes, fearing I have upset him. But they are open, friendly.

"Ma serannas," I mumble. "For answering my questions. I did not realize how…difficult they would be to answer."

He hesitates. "That you even thought to ask…it means more than you can imagine."

He then moves onto helping me strengthen my spells. I can't help but notice that, this time, he does more than tell me how to move my magic with more purpose. He shows me. He takes my hand, as he had done with the first rift, and guides me in the spell. When he's done, and my wards stronger than I had ever dreamed they would be, I can't stop myself from touching the place on my hand where his fingers had moved against mine.

I glance nervously up at him, my heart hammering. I can feel myself staring just a moment too long, but I can't look away. I hadn't before really thought that he was attractive but now… The curve of his nose. The sharp angles of his jawline. Even the little scar below his mouth that gives the appearance of a cleft chin. My throat tightens. Why hadn't I ever noticed before this?

Solas looks at me then, raising his eyebrows. I quickly look away, feeling my face warm. I silently curse Varric and purposefully shake my hands. I'm fairly sure Solas gives me a strange look when I do, but I do not answer the question lingering on his face.

"You would have made an excellent Keeper," I say.

"You believe so?"

I know his voice holds hints of both flattery and offense. I take it in stride. "Yes. If you had been my Keeper, I would have cherished my time studying. And, I do not doubt, learned much more than my own Keeper taught me."

For the first time, he seems lost for words. It takes a good few heartbeats for him to speak. "You…are a rare soul." He shakes his head, seeming to clear it. "Come. We draw close to where I felt the artifact's presence."

I let him lead the way. I can sense when we get close because his aura stretches, reaching for whatever he can see that I cannot. And then we hear the sounds of battle.

"Demons!" Solas says.

We run forward. A Dalish mage stands alone, fighting a lone Shade. Her magic is strong and the demon falls before we even get the chance to help.

The woman turns toward me.

"Andaran atish'an," she says, inclining her head toward me, ignoring Solas completely. "I did not expect to see another of the Dalish blood here. My name is Mihris. By your weapons, I see you come ready for battle. Perhaps we face a common enemy in these demons."

"Are you fighting the demons on your own?" I ask, slightly amazed at her courage.

"Fighting the demons is pointless. There will always be more. And I have no means of closing the rifts. But I have heard of elven artifacts that measure the Veil. They may tell us where new rifts will appear."

I throw a glance at Solas and I see it in his eyes: this artifact is what we came for.

"I was not expecting so many demons, however," she continues. "I believe one of the artifacts is nearby. Can you help me reach it?"

"Sounds worth investigating," I say, trying not to sound like this is why we've come in the first place. Explaining how we knew about the artifact would be difficult.

"Thank you. It shouldn't be too much farther ahead."

She follows us up a path of stone steps. They are old, long since crumbled under the weight of ages.

"Thank you for joining me," Mihris says as we near an archway, blocked by fallen stone. "I do not think I could have done this alone."

"What took you away from your clan?" I ask, reaching out with my mind to move the stone out of our way.

"I was - am - first of clan Virnehn! I left in service of my clan and saw that great tear in the Veil on my journey. I know more of magic and the Veil than any shemlen, so I hoped to help."

I turn to look at her, only to see Solas studying her. His eyes narrow. "Ma harel, da'len," he says.

She jumps, twisting her hands, seeming to notice him for the first time. "I…" she stammers. "Do not speak of that which you do not know, flat-ear."

The anger that rushes into my veins is so strong, I do not have the restraint to control it. My hands quake at my sides, pulsing with mana. Words rush from between my clenched teeth like a raging river, quick and unstoppable. "Fen'Harel ma halam (2). He is no more a flat-ear than you or I."

My entire being shakes in fury. I feel Solas's gaze burning into the side of my face, drinking in my anger.

"It is quite all right, lethallan (3)."

Lethallan.

Solas's whisper, and the pressure of his hand on my shoulder, pulls me back to myself. The rage, so all-consuming, had been a surprise and now I feel how my body trembles with it. I clear my throat, shaking my head as I let the mana calm inside me.

Mihris seems to reconsider herself. "I…I apologize…" She eyes my fingers, where lightning had just danced in my anger. "I did lie. My clan… They were all killed…by a demon that our Keeper was foolish enough to summon. I am the only survivor of Clan Virnehn. I was searching for another clan that would take me in when the Breach appeared. Now, I am doing whatever I can to help with this madness."

"Of…of course," I mutter, both to her and Solas. "As we all should."

My face burns with embarrassment as we follow her inside the structure. Why had I reacted so rashly? Was it because I considered Solas a friend and mentor after our travels and lessons together? Or had Varric set something aflame inside of me with his teasing? I choose to believe the former.

We find the artifact Solas had spoke of deep inside. He activates it, voicing that it will strengthen the Veil and make it safer for travelers in the area. Mihris chooses to stay inside and study it. I refuse to look at Solas as we leave her and head back toward the Crossroads.

He chuckles under his breath after a few minutes of walking. "Your rage is…quite a sight to behold."

I groan. "Don't remind me. It was foolish of me to react in such a way."

"Why did her words offend you so?"

I still refuse to look at him even though I feel his eyes burning into the back of my head. I ignore that he must see the new wave of heat spreading up my neck.

"It is what I am," he says.

"No!" I flinch as my nail digs deep into my palm. I unclench my jaw, calming myself. "No. I may regret how I acted but I do not think the words a lie. You are no more a flat-ear than I."

He does not respond for a few moments. I finally dare a look at him over my shoulder.

There is a sadness in his eyes that seems to run deep into his core. But then it's gone, replaced with something I don't fully comprehend.

"A rare soul, indeed," he whispers.

I roll my eyes. "Sweet talker."

He laughs, picking up his pace so he stands beside me. "I was right."

"About what?"

"It was fascinating."

"'It?'"

"Seeing your focus shattered so completely."

My cheeks burn and I look away from him. "Oh."

"The grace with which you held yourself, even in your rage, was fascinating as well."

Grace? "Are you suggesting I'm graceful? Me?"

He tries and fails to hide his smile. "No. I am declaring it. It was not a subject for debate."

Is he…flirting with me? I open my mouth to respond but stop myself, not trusting my now pounding heart. I trip over a large rock, as if unknowingly trying to prove him wrong. I barely catch myself.

He looses his battle with his smile then. "At least, most of the time."

The sight of Varric and Cassandra waiting for us at the Crossroads is a relief. I throw a scathing look at Varric, blaming him for all the emotions that now pour through my veins when I look at Solas.

(1) Ir abelas - elvish for "I am sorry"

(2) Fen'Harel me halam - literal translation means "Dread Wolf ends you;" a threat

(3) lethallan/lethallin - casual reference for someone you are familiar with; lethallan is generally used for females and lethallin for males - author's note - at some point I read somewhere (though I can't seem to remember where or when) that it was like calling someone a friend, or close friend, and that's the interpretation that stuck with me. To me it felt like Solas referring to her as a friend was a turning point for her, hence why she repeats it to herself in her mind

Also, I decided to combine Mihris's different responses to the Herald's question of "what are you doing here" (she lies to anyone who isn't an elf and tells the truth to a fellow Dalish) because I found Solas's reaction to the lie - and Mihris's - hilarious and I couldn't stop myself from adding that little bit in XD Obviously I added my own twist too... Am I the only one who yelled at the screen when she asked Solas (if your Herald isn't a mage) if he could "handle that, flat-ear?" No? Good... That's why I added that little tidbit in...

I originally had the two of them leave Haven together instead of all four of them. But then I found that map and saw that, realistically, the Hinterlands is at least a 5-6 day walk on foot and...well...I wasn't ready for them to have that much time alone yet XD It still worked out though, I think