CH 12: As Real As You and Me ...

-As Real As You and Me by Rihanna

Sera shouted curse after curse as she paced around one of the many campfires lit, kicking the occasional stray item that had managed to be in her path.

Bull, Sera, and Solas had managed to catch up to the rest of the survivors of Haven, however, The Herald, Evie, hadn't.

News spread around the camp and people became distraught at the loss of their Herald. Some believed, held onto the hope that Evie survived the massive avalanche that buried Haven. Others had doubt.

Sera was furious. Upset. She yelled and cursed Evie's name. Evelynn had been so insistent that they'd go without her. She punched at herself mentally, "I left my potentially best friend alone to face that stupid-face-Coryphenus-shite-faced- ..." Interrupting her own thought she let out a loud curse. Screaming it as loud as her lungs would let her. Cullen had come up to her and laid a gentle hand in Sera's shoulder. She startled. Sera looked to see who's hand it belonged to and she saw it was Cullen's. His eyes were heavy with emotion and understanding. But while Sera was giving into despair and lashing out, Cullen held onto hope - desperately.

Fenris, Merrill, and Ghilan were huddled around another campfire. She had closed her eyes and bowed her head, sitting solemnly and still. Fenris noticed and did the same, a hand resting in reassurance on Ghilan's knee while the other clasped Merrill's hand. Merrill had closed her eyes, head tilted towards the sky, muttering in Elven in small whispering breaths. They were praying that Evie was still alive, for her safe return. They prayed for the survivors and the ones lost. They prayed that they would, the Inquisition would be able to defeat this monster and heal the sky. They prayed. Merrill to the Elven gods and Fenris and Ghilan to the Maker.

Ghilan, deciding that she needed to be able to pray to someone, to believe someone could hear her troubles and provide a sense of peace and protection, decided to pray to the Maker. She felt more comfortable in doing so knowing that she wasn't the only elf to do so. She occasionally spotted Fenris praying, whispering prayers to the Maker as she would relieve him of his watch.

Solas was wandering about, helping anyone that needed a hand or healing. His gaze fell of Ghilan and his memory sparked. He wanted to ask her about what had happened when they were saving Adan and Minaeve. He remembered the unordinary power she used ... just as well as he remembered how he had noticed how the burns she had so carelessly given herself. He made his way towards her. They greeted him with a nod as he sat himself by Ghilan. He abruptly turned, facing her with his hands held out and palms up.

She gave him a puzzled look.

He simply said, "Your hands Lethallan."

"Oh, alright then." She said.

"Nyx? What happened to your hands!" Merrill hadn't noticed them, no one really did, until now. Ghilan's hands were burned. Her palms were an angry red and blustering. Some had already popped.

"We –" Ghilan began but Solas had interjected.

"We came across Minaeve and Adan who were both trapped underneath burning logs. She had handled the logs carelessly." He explained, already at the task of healing her hands. Ghilan had relaxed immensely at feeling his magic. The burning sensation in her hands was soothed.

"Mmm. Solas. Thank you so much. You are a blessing." Ghilan commented with eyes closed in comfort.

"Please be more careful Ghilan." Solas said quietly while turning her hands over, inspecting them for any other signs of damage.

"Mmhmm." Was all that he got as a reply.

She honestly looked like she was about to doze off right there, but he needed to ask her – privately.

"Nyx, if you and your friends wouldn't mind, I would like to ask you something. In private."

Fenris was looking back and forth between the two and he looks as if he was going to object, but Merrill placed her hand on his arm and spoke first.

"Of course not." She turned her head towards Fenris.

"Fenris, let's go to sleep. It's been a very – eventful day and I'm – I'm just so tired. May we, please?"

Fenris recalled on their part on the fight. Merrill had been forced to use her blood magic at one point to save a young soldier from a group of those monsters. When the soldier had seen what she had done, he realized what manner of mage she is – was. He ran yelling abomination, blood mage, malificar. She was not really handling it that well. Merrill is trying. She has been trying to wean herself off of depending on blood magic. Fenris didn't like blood magic, especially at the cost of her having to harm herself in any way. She only used it as a last resort.

Fenris nodded. "Alright." He stood, offering his hand to Merrill which she took gratefully.

Solas stood. "May we walk?" He asked holding out a hand to her.

"As you wish." Ghilan replied in Elven, accepting his assistance. She glanced at their joined hands for a second. She rather liked the sight and the feeling of her hand in his. She couldn't explain why, but it just felt – right. "No.", she thought, "This isn't the time."

As they walked and drifted a little farther from the others of the camp, they began to speak in Elven using low voices.

"Ghilan. What happened with that dragon? How did you manage to do that?" They had stopped walking.

"I don't exactly know. I was recalling on a feeling I got when I had last accidentally cast a spell without knowing what I was doing. I just knew what I felt. It was the same feeling I got the time when – the – it was a long time ago." She caught herself. She didn't want anyone to find out what happened that night with Magister Adonis. She was ashamed. That night left her feeling dirtier than when she had first awoken from Uthenera.

Solas had noticed the stumble. Respecting her wishes, he did not bring it up. Instead he asked, "What were you feeling?"

"I remember the sensation of cold, so cold that it burned. It was burning me inside. It felt as if it was so bright and ... righteous? But it felt so dark though. Ah, it's still difficult to explain."

Solas merely nodded his head, extremely engrossed in her mysterious power.

"Well. You most certainly are powerful. Such raw, magnificent talent." He mused. "You are a mystery, Ghilan."

"So it seems." She replied. "Let's head back then if that was all."

"It was. Thank you."

"No, thank you." She said moving the digits on her hand in emphasis. "And Solas."

"Yes?"

"I'm glad that you – and the others returned."

"As am I."

"I only pray Evie survived."

"You pray? Are you religious?"

"I – yes ..."

"May I ask what do you believe in?"

"Don't take any offense, Fen, but I pray to the Maker. The Elven Gods," Ghilan gestured quotations, "in which the Dalish pray to are not Gods. I feel it would be wrong of me to pray to them. I believe in the Maker because ... because I need to. I need to believe there is something greater. How can we look around us; at the people, nature – the beauty of the world and not think that something greater had a hand in shaping all of it. It ... it gives me strength, peace, ... hope."

Solas chuckled.

"What?"

"You are very passionate about you faith."

"Yes. Well, when you're a to be slave, living that kind of life, that is all you have. You need to have faith – hope."

"I am sorry. I didn't mean to offend you. I find your passion endearing, comforting actually. It is welcoming to see you care so deeply."

"Oh. Thank you." Ghilan said, caught off guard.

"Do you believe in ... anything? I mean you are – to others – supposedly a god; but we know that's not true. So do you?"

Solas was thoughtful for a moment, weighing his words. "I think that the idea of the Maker is a noble one. However, I have knowledge and wisdom. I am not particularly religious, no."

"Oh." Ghilan said a little disappointed, but not surprised.

"Are you going to try and convert me?" Solas teased with a playful smirk on his face.

"Maybe." She replied back in the same manner.

They spotted a figure moving in the distance.

"It's her!" Cullen cried out.

Ghilan was beside the Herald's cot. Evie was waking up.

"Why, hello there. It is good to see you have re-joined the living Evie." Ghilan said light-heartedly.

"Uhh. Are you sure? My head is killing me. Don't be surprised if you find me dead later because of it." Evie jested ... terribly.

"That ... that isn't actually that funny. At least not considering the circumstances."

Evie sighed. "I know." Her eyes were looking up at the celling of the tent. They were full of grief, her face grim. Evie was stripped out of her snow soaked clothing, redressed in warmer ones, and then swaddled in blankets. She was pale, almost blue. Thankfully though, colour had begun to spot on her skin. Hews of pink. "A good sign." Ghilan thought.

"Herald? Oh, I didn't mean to interrupt." Mother Giselle came into the tent and took a seat on the cot across from Evie. "May I speak with you?"

Evie looked towards Ghilan who merely shook her head, smiled and left.

"No. Not at all Mother Giselle."

After the song that spread throughout the camp had ended, Solas had gone up to Evie and explained to her that the orb Corypheus has is of Elven origin. Grateful that Ghilan isn't present to manage to put the pieces together. That the orb belongs to him. Solas told Evie of a fortress, his old fortress (he didn't tell her it was his mind you. Of course he wouldn't), Skyhold. It was a perfect place for this Inquisition to build an army. To grow.

And he was very certain that Ghilan would remember it.

They left at dawn.