Allara woke just before dawn, as was her custom. She lay staring up at the canvas canopy of the tent. The first birds of the morning were beginning to rustle and sing. Hearing that as she awoke reminded her of living in the aravel, and she stifled a gasp as a sharp pang of mingled fear and sadness hit her. The vision of her clan in the nightmare refreshed itself in her mind. That's all it was, she reminded herself, a nightmare. Clan Lavellan is fine wherever they are, she thought, and they are very capable of taking care of themselves, as she knew well.

Allara sat up and massaged the stiff muscles at the back of her neck. She didn't realize it was possible to feel more exhausted waking up than she had felt going to sleep. The sight of the empty bedroll next to hers made her heart sink all over again. She had no idea what she was going to do about her hurt feelings, or if she should do anything at all. In the peaceful, growing light of dawn, being angry with Solas about something he had done in a dream felt silly. At the same time, it was something he had actually done with purpose and not a figment of her subconscious or some shadow of the Fade. The images that her nightmare had shown her were still fresh in her mind, as was the way she felt. Those emotions were real, even if they were brought on by something that was not. She still couldn't believe that he had purposefully ignored her calls for help. The very idea was still bordering on the unfathomable for her, but it had happened. What could he have possibly been doing that had been more urgent? A fresh flare of anger sizzled in the shadows of her thoughts. He would not tell her even if she asked, she knew. That knowledge certainly did not help.

Allara shimmied into her leather breeches from her position on the tent floor, and then stood, pulling her hardened leather coat over her dust-colored tunic. An early morning hunt would provide her with some clarity. She hefted her bow, slung her quiver over her back, and ducked through the tent flap.

Outside, the camp was still peacefully asleep. Allara could hear the muffled sounds of snores and breathing all around her and kept her footsteps as quiet as she could as she crept through the rows of tents. She spared a thought for where Solas might have gone for a moment before she pushed it to the back of her mind. That was not her concern. She paused at the horses and considered taking Prince for a moment. She petted his broad nose and giggled as he lipped her fingers before she decided it would be better to go on foot and stay close to the camp. Prince sighed his disappointment, and Allara made him a mental promise that she would take him on a long ride in the afternoon.

She had leaped over the small bushes at the edge of the camp when she heard footsteps behind her. She turned to see Varric, fully dressed with Bianca over his shoulder walking purposefully toward her. She allowed him to catch up.

"Good morning, Kitten," he whispered. "I'm coming with you." She thought about protesting, but the stubborn look on the dwarf's face told her she wouldn't get anywhere. The corner of Allara's mouth turned up in a small smile and she jerked her head, indicating that he should follow her. They walked down a deer trail for a while in silence, enjoying the peace of the early morning. They both had their eyes open for tracks or other signs of game. Much of the larger game in the area was gone, having been over-hunted by the poor and the desperate of Halamshiral. Allara knew they would be lucky to find a rabbit or even a few quails, but the Inquisition camp wasn't exactly low on rations. She suspected Varric knew that she was not out here out of practical necessity.

"Do you want to talk, or should I?" asked Varric. Allara raised an eyebrow at him. "All right, I'll go. You all right, kid?" Allara rolled her eyes at him.

"Look Varric, I know what you're trying to do and I appreciate the concern, but really it's fine," she said. Varric simply continued to look coolly up at her. She sighed. "I honestly don't know," she said finally.

"I know the feeling," he said.

"He - I was - I had a nightmare," she said, trying to explain. "It was terrible. Really awful. You know how Solas is able to manipulate the Fade," she said.

"He never shuts up about it," said Varric. Allara nodded.

"I called out to him from the Fade. I know how to reach him that way, but he never came. He did it on purpose. Said there was something more important he was doing," she said. Varric looked taken aback.

"Is that what he said?" asked Varric. Allara tilted her head, weighing her answer.

"Basically. I don't remember exactly, but that was the gist. I can't help but feel betrayed, you know?" said Allara. She looked at him, her face full of emotion. Saying it out loud made it real, and she realized that's exactly how she felt.

"I do know. Listen, I'm the wrong person to talk to about dreams, but I know a fair deal about betrayal," he said, gravel in his voice.

"I just still can't believe - how could he have done that to me? And I know that he won't tell me exactly what he was doing. I know that. He's all intimate and perfect right up until the point where you want to know something he doesn't want to tell you," she said, animating her words with her hands. Varric nodded, listening.

"That - is not all together surprising," said Varric.

"Isn't it?!" asked Allara sharply. "I tell him everything. There's nothing I would keep from him, and yet as soon as I ask him something too personal, he shuts me out. There's a wall there. He won't let me in. How am I supposed to deal with that?"

"It seems to me like what you're actually angry about goes beyond whatever he pulled in your dream," said Varric.

"I needed him and he wasn't there," she said, exasperated. They continued to walk, both having given up pretense of hunting. From the hill they had reached, they could see the dawn reflecting off the ancient stone walls of Halamshiral. Allara stopped a moment to stare off at it.

"He loves you, Kitten," Varric said softly. "Everyone can see that. You know I'm not Chuckles' biggest fan, but I know that there must have been something real important keeping him from running straight to you. As for everything else," he sighed, "he must have a good reason for keeping that from you as well. We all have stories we'll never tell; some of us just have more than others." He absentmindedly patted his crossbow with a gloved hand. Allara broke her gaze away from Halamshiral to turn to Varric with a sad smile.

"Thank you, Varric," she said.

"Any time," he said. "Not that I'm saying you should let him off the hook too easy. I think you're absolutely right to hang him out to dry for at least a little while." Allara laughed, and Varric smiled, pleased. He started walking back toward the camp and, after a minute, she followed.