Andra stared hard at the map laid before her and her companion. She was trying to discern the best course of action, the best route to take to get to their destination.
"Well, I see no point going around, and through Orlais, when we can cross the Waking Sea by boat," Andra said distantly, pointing a finger at the splash of faded blue that partially cut into the continent, eyeing road trails and land markers that streaked and dotted the parchment she had been given by the Inquisition.
"Who's boat?" Solas interjected, crouched near the blonde elf, stirring a small pot over a fire that contained their lunch. "We have limited options, you know. None that are particularly promising either. One would be to—somehow—get a craft of our own, which also means hiring a crew and navigator. Neither of us has that kind of money. Or we could go out of our way, across Ferelden, to acquire transport from Highever. Though I doubt the Teyrn would welcome us. Even some time having passed, after the betrayal of Rendon Howe, no one there is quick to assume kindness from strangers, and even less likely to offer it."
"When do you find the time to catch yourself up with current events?" Andra shook her head, amazed, "There's too much going on in the world to keep track of it all." He was like a walking encyclopedia.
"Rendon Howe's betrayal was almost as important as Loghain Mac Tir's," Solas replied absently without so much as looking over at his companion. "He murdered an entire family, down to the children. The only survivor left is Fergus Cousland—now the new Teyrn." Solas scooped out two bowls of stew for him and Andra. "How horrifying it must have been to have left to defend your home from Darkspawn only to later find that there were enemies right on your doorstep all along, wearing friendly faces that you had come to trust." He handed Andra one of the bowls and sat down next to her, looking over the map that spread across the ground in front of them.
Andra mulled over Solas' story. She had heard a little of the historic Cousland family up in Highever, betrayed at the dawning of the Fifth Blight. When she was a part of the Inquisition and had met the Grey Warden, Alistair, she had learned that Duncan—a respected, elder Warden at the time, before his death—had almost gone to the Couslands to recruit. Which, of course would have meant that Duncan never would have gone to the Dalish in the Brecilian Forest, and there would be no Hero of Ferelden. Andra couldn't help thinking, however, that Duncan might have been able to save that family if he had been there. She shook the thought away, it was foolish to dwell on the past.
"Well, what about this?" Andra suggested, bringing the conversation back to the present, "We could get transport in Jader City, it's just north of Orzammar which makes it our closest option."
Solas seemed to scoff at the idea, "As elves who aren't residents there, you and I are not granted the Imperial Pardon. We'd be shackled the second we walked into the city and sold as slaves. Jader is very conscious of all non-human tourists who come through their backwater."
"You're pulling my leg, right? That can't possibly be true."
"It is. Unless you want to smuggle ourselves in?"
"That's ridiculous, they can't just enslave whoever they want!"
"And yet they do," Solas corrected, "Slaves are still in high demand in today's society. And because it is so commonplace, no one questions it unless behind closed doors. And even then, they would never tell anyone else of their thoughts."
"If only it were easy to change everyone's minds," Andra whispered, gazing off towards the waters of Lake Calenhad that glistened faraway under the sun.
Kinloch Hold—Ferelden's Circle Tower—stood ominously near it's center. A spire of black and sharp edges. Andra imagined that if anyone still lived there, life was no doubt changed forever. Even if all evidence of abominations and blood magic was removed, the Tower would forever stand as a reminder of dark history—of the foolhardy rebellion led by Uldred.
"The course of history is so rarely steered with a gentle hand," Solas added, solemnly.
Andra turned and eyed her companion, there was something in the expression on his face that made her wonder if he had ever tried to lead a rebellion himself. He looked... reminiscent, yet filled with sorrow.
The young blonde reached a tentative hand out and cupped Solas' face. He looked distant and present all at the same time. As if he was yearning for the past but kept from it by some force.
Or someone.
"Dirth to em," Andra spoke softly, coaxing Solas back to her.
Blue eyes met silver, like a mix of frost and water, and Andra felt overcome with emotion. She was reminded of the kiss she and Solas shared back at Skyhold and her body shuddered at the memory. This journey would be very different from the rest. She didn't quite know what she and her companion were, but whatever it was, it was enough. She just wanted to be close to him. As close as she could get.
"Ir abelas, Vhenan," Solas replied, "Tel'ijuthe gyn harthemah."
"Ele saron i'ra. Satha."
Solas sighed, "Maybe one day, but right now is not the right time."
Andra was the first to look away, dropping her hand back into her lap, "It never is. Sometimes we have to take a leap of faith and trust others."
"And sometimes it is not so simple," Solas said as softly and carefully as he could.
Andra dropped her gaze back onto the map and let the conversation go. If Solas didn't want to open up to her, she wasn't going to take it personally. Her friends had all warned her that he would be this way and it still held true. She knew what she was getting into.
That didn't stop her heart from hurting.
"What do you suggest then?" The blonde gestured vaguely over the map. Highever was out and Jader City wasn't promising, which only left a long trek through Orlais as their last viable option.
"You said you wanted to go by boat earlier because it could take us all the way to Antiva."
"Yes," Andra nodded, "And it saves us from having to cross too many borders. I know getting through the Free Marches wouldn't be so bad if we went that way, but crossing through Orlais and into Nevarra and Tevinter would give us too much to worry about. If we could find a boat here in Ferelden, we could take it all the way up to Antiva City," she pointed to a northern coastline, "and from there we could travel to Brynnlaw—or even skirt past it—then Arlathan Forest is just on the other side of the border of this northern part of Tevinter. It would be a much faster trip."
"We could secure a boat in Val Royeaux as well," Solas offered.
"It would take too long to travel up that way. Days spent walking in the wrong direction—"
"It would be safer than what you're implying."
"Come on, Solas, where's your sense of adventure?"
"I don't agree with risking our lives needlessly just for convenance's sake."
"Jader is a day's walk from here! It would take us a week to get to Val Royeaux."
"My previous statement still stands."
"But—"
"I understand that you are eager to find this rune, I am eager as well to see you discover your past, but you can't do that if you're clasped in irons and belong to strangers who don't care for your wellbeing. Or worse, dead. I just think that we should look at other options." Solas stood then, gathering the empty bowls they had both discarded—along with the pot that sat over their dying fire—and began walking towards a nearby stream so he could scrub them clean.
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"I can't believe you got me to agree to this," Solas groaned as the two of them crouched low, shrouded in the shadow of a rickety cabin.
"Mischief told me this isn't going to be my only test. I don't want to spend forever on this one when there's going to be more."
"It's foolish to trust a spirit who's entire being embodies trickery."
"I have no other choice," Andra said quickly before pressing a finger to her companion's mouth, "Now shush. You were so worried about the risk in coming here to Jader yet you seem insistent on blowing our cover."
Solas half smiled at the shorter elf and pulled her hand away from him, "Our cover will be blown soon if this contact of Varric's doesn't show up anyway."
Andra mentally noted that Solas was still holding her hand. The warmth of his skin seeped into her and she felt an electricity bubbling in her stomach. "You're awfully calm for someone who spent a long time trying to deter me from taking this route—for the sake of safety."
The older elf said nothing, maintaining his smirk as he looked off over the City of Jader from their perch on a mildly elevated hill. Admittedly, it was a beautiful port city, with flourishing trade between Tevinter, Antiva, and even Rivain. While most of their trade was livestock and fish, Jader was most well known for its Veridium and Red Steel which it gets straight from the Frostback Mountains that lie on their doorstep. However, their most profitable exports are Lyrium. In exchange for produce, Orzammar offers up large quantities of the valuable blue mineral, which in turn is then exported to anyone willing to buy. Mainly Mages and Templars. Mainly Tevinter. Of course, being governed by Tevinter Law, Jader's second most profitable trading good is slaves. Even the non-human citizens who have received the Imperial Pardon, granting them rights as free citizens, fear the Archon changing her mind and being carted off to the Slaver's Forum once more.
"Oh! That must be him!" Andra whispered excitedly.
Solas quickly turned his gaze a little to the side, in the direction the girl was looking and was met with the approaching figure of a burly man clad in fisherman's attire.
As he approached, the man veered into the cabin that Solas and Andra crouched behind. He approached a window near their hiding spot that looked out over a patch of countryside and spoke softly: "Hope the two o' you know I'm sticking my neck out for this."
"We know, thank you for agreeing to help us," Andra replied. She didn't stand and turn to look through the window. Varric's reply letter had been very adamant about the set of rules they needed to follow in order for this plan to work.
One, they couldn't be seen in the city. Varric knew of the racial bias of the townspeople and knew they would be snatched up as soon as they passed the guards—just like Solas had warned Andra. Two, they couldn't be seen speaking with Dallen, the man that was helping them. If anyone were to, it would burn down Dallen's reputation and put him on a watch list, or he might even be arrested. Which, in turn, would ruin some of Varric's own trade deals that he used the fisherman to mediate. Three, Solas and Andra needed to follow Dallen's instructions to the letter and without question. A moment's hesitation would send the plan spiraling into disaster and they would no doubt be caught.
At first, Solas had been against the idea of Andra writing Varric to see if the dwarf had any connections in Jader. But he had caved when he saw how much this desperately meant to her.
Also, a part of him could understand her desire.
They had traveled a few hours towards Orzammar where Andra found a messenger willing to run her letter back to Skyhold, thankfully on horseback. From there, the duo had waited all of a day and a half for a reply before the messenger went on to Jader to deliver a second letter to one of Varric's contacts.
Andra was grateful to learn that her friend could help her, but was also skeptical at how fast everything had gone. Which meant that this particular man, Dallen, that Varric employed, must do this kind of thing often otherwise he might have needed convincing. Which would have led to more correspondence and a greater amount of time wasted.
If that had been the case, Andra would have been extremely bent out of shape knowing that she should have just listened to Solas and taken the road to Val Royeaux.
"Don't mean that harshly," Dallen went on, "Just want you t' be aware that if you get caught, you're on your own. I won't come t' your rescue. Can't implicate myself like that an' risk Master Tethras' business. It's important that you keep your head down and don't draw unwanted attention."
"We understand," Andra replied confidently. Solas raised an eyebrow at his companion, feeling that she wasn't quite taking this as seriously as she should.
There was a faint hum as Dallen turned over the idea of actually going through with the plan. He would, inevitably, but he needed to know his chances of pulling this off without either of these elves screwing it all up. "Master Tethras explained th' rules?" he finally said.
"Yes," Andra answered, "No questions and we're to follow your orders."
There was a long silence of what felt like several minutes. Solas and Andra looked to each other, wondering if Dallen had left and decided to abandon them and not go through with it. But then there was a jumbled rustling, followed by a bag being tossed out the window.
"Put those on," Dallen said, "An' pull those hats down low over your ears."
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ELVHEN USED:
Dirth to em: "Talk to me"
Ir abelas, Vhenan: "I'm sorry, my love"
Tel'ijuthe gyn harthemah: "Even you wouldn't understand"
Ele saron i'ra: "We are in this together"
Satha: "Please"