From the moment the elven mage had disappeared from the Temple of Sacred Ashes after Corypheus met his final end, Mai had begun searching frantically for him. Leliana's scouts were extremely skilled at what they did, but Mai knew that if Solas didn't want to be found, he would not be. The man had not survived all these years as an apostate through luck alone.
So instead of scouring half of Thedas, from the Western Approach to the Hinterlands, she searched the Fade instead.
She was quite possibly even more unlikely to find him through dreams, given his incredible control over the unconscious realm, but her time at his side had proven fruitful not only for the calming of her nerves and greater social focus, but for her magical abilities as well. While Mai was no true Dreamer, she was a talented mage who learned very quickly. Not to mention the boost to her magical powers the anchor provided her with, plus the voices of the Well whose whispering only increased in fervency and volume the more she searched.
Mai searched. She searched and searched and searched. Desperate to find even a trace of the man who had brought so much knowledge and confusion and pain and love and life into her world and then left so abruptly, leaving everything and everyone behind.
She spoke with spirits, friendly and those just neutral enough that were unlikely to use her as a doorway into the waking worlds. She would even happen upon the odd sleeping individual to ask whether there had been any irregularities in their dreams (though, being the Fade, irregularities were rather expected). She kept herself to task, fighting through fits and talking through fits, and spending more and more of her resting time with her scarf wrapped tight around herself.
"Listen, Bookworm…" Varric said one day after three months had gone by. Even after returning to Kirkwall, the dwarf still returned to Skyhold often enough. 'Unfinished business' he called it. 'Nosiness' Cassandra had called it, but seeing as she was still staying put even while rebuilding the Seekers and looming two steps behind them, she didn't really have room to judge. "I know how much you and Chuckles meant to each other. A blind guy could've seen it. But…"
Cassandra chimed in, coming forward where she had NOT been eavesdropping. "There has been no word from Solas and even Leliana has been unable to find him."
Varric carefully rested a hand on Mai's arm and gave it a gentle squeeze when she did not flinch. It was way too thin. "You've been looking for him when you're sleeping too, right? I'd say it's pretty clear he doesn't want to be found. And if he doesn't want to be found, then even if you did manage to catch him, dragging him back won't help anyone. Especially you."
"I will not be dragging him back to Skyhold." Mai stared into the fireplace beside Varric's chair. The flames crackled and danced, the occasional spark jumping free before withering away into nothing. Her fingers continuously fidgeted with the fringe of her scarf to tug and pull and wear yet another hole into the fabric - the once proud mantle was nearly reduced to tatters. "I will not turn this place into a prison, just because I miss him and I do not want him to leave."
"Then why…?" Cassandra trailed off.
Mai looked up and when the light hit her face it looked like tears were trailing down her cheeks even though her eyes were completely dry - her fingers pulled yet another thread free.
"There are things I need to know," she insisted, words working quickly. "He promised me he would explain. Why he could not stay with me, why he could not stay with us. I still have things to say and so does he, so it is not finished yet."
Varric and Cassandra shared a worried look.
"I love him." Mai said then, no grand proclamation, no colorful descriptions. Just as if it were another fact of the world. "If he wants to walk away, then I cannot force him to stay."
The voices crooned in her head, both soothing and frightening, mixing with the growing hum of the Anchor and threatening to overwhelm her, but she forced herself to push past them. She focused on the crackling of the flames, the soft and fraying fabric beneath her fingertips which she finally let rest, the drum of Cassandra's breathing and Varric's warm hand on her arm.
Too much. It was all too much. But so was life and that hadn't stopped her yet.
"However... if I have learned anything from my time here, from all of you and from Solas, it is that it does not matter having the last word. What lasts is saying the words that matter."