Some nights I stay up cashing in my bad luck
Some nights I call it a draw
—Some Nights, fun
Solona turned out to be adept at navigating Denerim's city streets, even at night. She supposed after so many trips through the ever-shifting labyrinth of the Fade, navigating a maze where the walls and pathways stayed put was a much easier task. Her plan was to follow the path of the river that bisected the city until she came to the last bridge leading north. Then she'd take that and from there find the West gate, and then poof, turn into a mouse and scuttle on through.
It was a fine plan, and since she found herself on empty streets, her mind was free to wander away from her present, less than ideal circumstances, and drift back to her chief worry and concern: convincing Alistair (and by extension, Elissa) that she'd merely gotten herself lost, and hadn't up and deserted like he might've surmised, given their last conversation…
Maybe she could convince Alistair. Maker's blood, the fool of a Templar would probably accept any answer more greedily than the truth. But, Elissa was a tougher sell.
It wasn't that the noblewoman was infallible. After all, Solona had managed to conceal certain aspects of her past (and present) to the woman everyone at camp seemed to think could ferret out a secret better than a fat Orlesian could ferret out cake. But of course Solona had given Elissa no reason to suspect that she was in contact with a magister from Tevinter. She could only imagine how Elissa might react if she'd known that Solona had learned the bulk of her abilities from a powerful maleficar.
She sighed to herself. It was likely that in order to convince Elissa of her good intentions, she'd have to give a fairly truthful rendition of what happened. Where Elissa was concerned, the fewer lies she had to tell, the safer she would be. So, she decided she would admit that she got spooked and ran away. If she were contrite enough…maybe Elissa would accept it.
She's not altogether unreasonable. After Elissa deduced that the poison Jowan administered was meant to only weaken and not kill its victim, Solona had taken a stab at convincing Elissa that since Jowan couldn't be regarded as an attempted murderer anymore, shouldn't thatwarrant another request for a room outside the dungeons?
Elissa had, against all expectations, agreed. She actually convinced that shrew Isolde to house Jowan in a locked tower room, rather than the dirty, dark dungeon. Solona hadn't expected her argument to work, but it had, and it certainly softened her opinion of the Warden. If she promised that it wouldn't happen again, she thought there was a good chance Elissa might forgive her attempted desertion.
The thought should have brought her more comfort than it did.
Just then she heard voices, and scrambled quickly into a dark alley, hiding herself behind some barrels stacked up against the side of the building.
The voices were loud and rough and slurred. Male and female, the two drunks shuffled by and Solona waited patiently for them to pass. Once she could hear not even an echo of their footsteps, she counted slowly to ten, and then poked her head out behind a barrel.
She could see no one in the gloom, so she set off again, mindful to keep the babble of the river's water always to her right.
As she settled into her pace she thought again about the Joining—the dangerous ritual still hung over her head, like the most monstrous black bird in the most melodramatic ghost story.
Alistair was right, she realized. Eventually, one way or the other, Elissa would figure out how to perform the ritual. Perhaps it wouldn't even happen until after the Blight, but if Solona lived long enough she would inevitably face taking the cup.
"It tasted like death itself." That's what Elissa said when Solona had asked about it. Solona hadn't asked any follow-up questions after that, but now she wished she had. What exactly were the chances of survival? Did survivors have any particular traits in common? Was there anything she could do to increase her chances?
She felt stupid for not having asked, but there was nothing for it now. She kicked a small rock with her toe, and it flew a foot in the air before landing with a thud on the hard-packed dirt road. With a frown, she looked up and stopped. She was at a crossroads. The street she'd been walking on was bisected by another street heading north and over a bridge. The torches that lit the bridge looked like hazy balls of light in the gloom.
The light was inviting, wan as it was. She realized she could just as easily cross here than at the last bridge. In her mind's eye she saw the city stretched out in front of her as if she were looking at a small scale model. North of the river were some of the better parts of town, she remembered—and the marketplace was north of here.
Her feet were already leading her to the bridge before she was consciously aware of making the decision. The marketplace would be better lit. It also might be better populated, but Solona felt like risking it. She'd done a decent job of avoiding anyone so far and she hadn't even had to shape shift yet.
She crossed the bridge, staying as close as she dared to the edge and trying to stick to the shadows. There was no one else traversing it at this hour at least. When she got to the end of it, she started down the wide street that lead to the market place.
She wasn't the only pedestrian in sight. One man slumped against a building—Solona tripped on his outstretched legs and only just managed to keep from falling face first into the red cobblestone. "S-sorry!" she stammered, but the figure made some wordless grumble and waved her off.
A couple of drunks shuffling home and a few street rats passed her by, but they didn't pay her any mind so she quit bothering with slinking in the shadows and instead upped her pace, striding toward her destination with a purpose.
The buildings finally gave way to the wide open expanse that made up Denerim's market district. There was more light here than anywhere else, so Solona was able to see that it was abandoned at this hour.
She took a tentative step into the marketplace, peering around and trying to get her bearings. She hadn't come here from quite this direction before, so it took her a few seconds to find familiar landmarks. Then she saw the low stone wall that surrounded the Chantry clear on the other side of the city center. It was just beyond that wall, she knew, to the large wooden gate that led westward out of the city.
She'd made it this far at least. Navigating the city had been easier than she would have guessed, and she realized with a pang that she would be sorry to leave its comforting confines to venture into the wilderness outside. The great outdoors was a more intimidating and frightening place than Ferelden's largest city, it turned out.
But she would have to suck it up, gather her courage and just do it, already. She started to make her way around the square, sticking to the edges and the shadows just in case. Her wariness was rewarded when the clinking of armor and the sound of footsteps alerted her to a guard's presences some thirty feet from her. Of course the marketplace would have guards at night—Solona felt silly for not thinking of it sooner, and ducked into a side street to shape shift back into her mouse form. She might've been able to simply time the patrols and make a dash for it, but she figured this method was the safer route.
Nose twitching with a thousand intriguing scents and ears alert to any noise, Solona scuttled down the side of the market, ducking under boarded up wooden stalls when she could. Her meandering path took her toward another gate, with another guard standing in front of it. He didn't notice her as she froze in front of him, staring up at him with bulbous pink eyes. Conscious thought was harder in this form, but Solona remembered this particular gate, surrounded by high stone walls, from her earlier trip to the market.
This was the gate to the alienage.
She froze, contemplating her course of action. Rising up onto her back haunches she sniffed the air—though once she found herself in the act she didn't really know what she was sniffing for. Magic?
Aurelian had said his peer could be found at the alienage. It was only now that she stood in front of the gate did she remember that the entire district had been closed off. She vaguely remembered a half-heard conversation about disease being the culprit.
She rubbed her little mouse forepaws together, suddenly feeling torn. Just beyond that gate, Solona might find freedom—true freedom, for the first time ever in her life…but that freedom would come at the cost of her best friend's life.
She dropped to four paws again and started to scurry away, toward the West gate that led out of the city…toward her future as a Grey Warden.
What'll happen to Jowan if I die? The thought stopped her in her mouse tracks. Elissa had stayed Jowan's execution only because Solona promised her a favor in return. If Solona died before she could deliver that favor…did that mean their agreement was over?
She squeaked to herself in frustration, pacing back and forth across the cobblestone in frantic bursts of movement. Her tiny mouse heart was racing.
Why hadn't she thought all this through more fully? How terribly fucking stupid would it be for her to die during the Joining and have Jowan's head on the chopping block all over again?
Maker's ass.
There had to be another way. Some way for her to save them both—
—she hesitated, going very still and looking with her right eye toward the alienage gate. Could she ask Caladrius, a perfect stranger, to help her bust out her best friend from an impenetrable fortress on the other side of the country?
Of course she couldn't. It was impossible.
She turned toward the West gate again, though she walked very slowly.
She simply had to trust that she would survive the Joining. Contemplating the other possibility was a fruitless exercise in terrified What ifs.
As she crawled toward the gate, she found herself wondering what her future might look like if she were to survive. She would definitely campaign for Jowan's release…though if she were being honest she would have to confess that her chances for success were slim. She could probably keep Jowan from getting executed, but what else could she do? They might send him to Aeonar after this.
Unless they make him Tranquil. Of course…that was the more likely outcome, wasn't it? Jowan wasn't a Harrowed mage when he escaped. It would be the easiest solution of any—and provide the Circle with one more Tranquil mage to do its bidding.
Solona had completely frozen yet again on the cobblestones, unable to get her four legs moving toward the exit that loomed ahead of her…unable to move toward the fate that awaited her…and Jowan.
Even if she lived, she'd be shackled to the Wardens and fighting darkspawn for the rest of her life. And for what? For Jowan to spend the rest of his days as either a prisoner or…or as a shallow husk of the man he once was? As an automaton for the Templars and the Chantry to exploit for their gain?
She was pretty sure Jowan would rather die than be made tranquil. And in that moment, facing uncertain death and a morbid future through one gate, and the promise of freedom like she could only dream about through another gate, Solona made her choice.
Fast as her four little legs could carry her, she scurried back towards the alienage gate. Just as she rounded a corner and the lone guard came into view, her sensitive mouse ears picked up footsteps, awfully close. She cocked her head to the side and listened.
Two two-legs and one four-legs. She squeaked as the figures came into view, slipping out of the shadows. There was something familiar about the trio, but some animal instinct overwhelmed her at the sight and sound of a large brown mabari war hound, and she was struck by an all-consuming need to flee.
There was perhaps a two-inch gap between the wooden gate and the cobblestone street below it, but that was probably enough for Solona to squeeze herself through. She dashed for it, and was almost to it by the time the war hound saw her and chased after, the thunder of his four large paws smacking against the street propelling her to go faster. Darting through the gap, her claws scraped against the stone when her hindquarters got stuck. She squeaked in panic and felt the hound's breath on her back before she summoned enough strength to squeeze herself under.
She skittered a few feet away from the gate before the panic subsided and she froze, listening with her proportionally large ears.
The hound was snuffling and pawing at the stone under the gate, and whining under his breath. Then, voices that were instantly familiar spoke—only Solona could not interpret the words. It sounded like nonsense!
She willed herself to breathe, to calm down, and then remembered that Morrigan had warned her of this. Focusing her will she cast the complementary spell (amazed that she still could) that would allow her to understand human speech.
"I don't care what your mongrel thinks," a man's voice was suddenly crystal clear. "This gate has been closed all day, and nobody's come in or out, man or elf."
"I'm telling you, the beast saw a rat and chased it under there," Morrigan's voiced chimed in. "'Tis that and nothing more."
Prince finally stopped his pawing at the wooden gate, and then Solona heard him deliver a low grumble of a growl.
"I don't think so!" Leliana's lilting voice cried out. "He had someone's scent and was heading this way…I think he's on to Elissa's trail!"
Solona's blinked. Why in the world were Morrigan and Leliana tracking Elissa?
"Hmm," was all the warning Morrigan gave, before Solona felt the witch start casting. She barely had time to skitter away before she heard something large and heavy thump against the wooden gate.
She kept going for a few feet even after the sleep spell was cast, knowing what Morrigan would likely follow up with. She waited with her heart in her throat for a few more seconds, and then a strangled cry split the night, before it ended in wordless gurgle.
"What did you do that for?" Leliana said with a gasp.
Morrigan made a tsk sound. "Pray, what should I have done? The sleep spell would have worn off in a matter of minutes."
Leliana sighed and as Solona slowly crept back toward the gate, she heard the shuffling of feet and realized the women were attempting to prop the body up against the wall. "Poison would have been quieter," Leliana said, in a cold tone Solona had never heard the Chantry sister use before.
She heard more shuffling noises, and a jingle that Solona surmised must've come from the guard's key ring, because a second there was a sharp click and then the large wooden gate slowly opened. She scampered away to hide herself under the porch of the closest ramshackle building, hoping that Prince wouldn't pick up her scent and come after her.
The dog darted straight for her hiding place, however. But then Solona's ears twitched when the distant ringing of metal against metal reached them.
Prince must've heard the noises, too. He halted in his tracks and cocked his head to the side, while the two humans walked up to him. Another clang reached her ears, and then Prince's nose was on the ground and he was sniffing loudly while walking around in circles. After a moment he froze again, gave a sharp bark, and then took off deeper into the alienage. Morrigan and Leliana shared a look and then hurried after him.
Solona sat there under the porch for a few moments, letting her companions get a little further away from her before she emerged, still fearful of attracting Prince's attention. While she crept through the alienage after them, her mind raced with questions. The last she knew, Elissa had gone into the city with Zevran early that morning for some purpose she didn't share with the rest of them. Her whiskers twitched in agitation. Elissa must not have returned to camp. Had Zevran? Or Alistair?
A wide dirt path served as the main thoroughfare for the alienage. As Solona rounded the bend she saw Leliana and Morrigan in the distance. Sticking to the shadows of each building, Solona made her way to the two women. One of them stooped over something, and as Solona cautiously approached, a coppery tang filled her nostrils.
Bodies. They were bending over bodies—Leliana's quick hands darted into the pocket of a robed corpse on the ground as Solona tried to tamp down the panic that was starting to overwhelm her again. Some brutal force had decimated the other corpses—she saw body parts lying in pools of blood like so much meat—but the figure was mostly intact, and she could see that the robes the man wore were fine. They were blue and green with a rich golden thread embroidered along the edges. With a jolt, Solona realized that his robes reminded her of Aurelian's.
Prince darted up the steps of the closest building and Leliana and Morrigan once again raced to follow, but Solona froze, staring into the face of the dead mage. His beard was neatly trimmed—it covered a strong jawline, and its rich, auburn color matched the smooth, well-coiffed hair on his head.
Was this Caladrius? Lying murdered in a muddy pool of his own blood? Who had killed him? It couldn't have been Elissa, could it? And if so, what in the Void for?
The flames licked the logs in the firepit eagerly, crackling and spitting in what would have been a cacophony of sound if it wasn't drowned out by the dull but constant roar of conversation. It was well past midnight by Solona's guess, but their arrival back at camp had seemed to give everyone a second wind, and now they all stayed up late telling and retelling each other the stories of their amazing fucking day in Denerim.
Alistair, Zevran, and Elissa took turns filling in the others on just what they'd been up to since this morning. Their tale was filled with twists and turns—it told of duels and pickpockets, bandits and pirates, and last of all elves and slavers.
Fucking slavers. Solona scowled into the flames. She should have fled at the first dead body, she told herself for about the umpteenth time since reuniting with her companions. Fucking Templar abilities. She looked up at Alistair, who was mid-yarn—something about a flash bomb and a bridge that left Elissa blushing after a retort from Zevran. She wasn't paying attention to their words though, instead brought back to that terrible moment in the warehouse when Alistair's unexpected Cleanse had popped Solona unwillingly into her human form right in the middle of the battle with the real Caladrius.
She'd had no answer to give when Elissa questioned her afterward.
"Why didn't you reveal yourself sooner?" Elissa asked, face screwed up in confusion.
"Well, I, uh…"
"'Tis obvious, is it not?" Morrigan interrupted with a little sneer. Solona fell silent, feeling her heart thrum wildly in her chest. It was impossible that Morrigan knew the truth, and yet the witch's smug smile made her nervous. When she didn't reply, Morrigan shook her head in disgust. "You forgot how to change back, didn't you?"
An authentic blush crawled up Solona's cheek as she saw amused grins appear on her companions' faces. At least Leliana hid hers behind her hand. "Something like that," she mumbled.
She supposed she ought to be grateful that Morrigan's snide conclusion had been so embarrassing—nothing made a lie go down easier than the humiliation of the liar. But, it was tough to swallow, being back here facing this uncertain future, when she'd come so damn close to escaping it.
Yeah, right. All I had to do was become a slaver, and I'd have been free. She picked up a stick and started picking off the bark in sharp, jerky motions, angry all over again at Aurelian for sending her to a fucking slaver without so much as a warning. Did he think she wouldn't care? Of course she cared! She couldn't have just overlooked Caladrius' occupation and hitched a ride with him to Tevinter.
She flicked pieces of bark into the fire as she picked them off the stick. The pieces burnt up in a quick and satisfying way, and she soon ran out of bark and tossed the stick into the fire with a frown.
I wouldn't have gone with him. That was the trouble though, and part of what made her so bleeding angry. There was a part of her that wasn't quite sure, and she hated herself and pretty much everyone else involved that had forced her to contemplate the question at all.
"No, no," Alistair said after another round of laughter. "The best part was when the guard showed up. Darrian was all 'this isn't what it looks like!'" He put his hands in the air, mimicking the giant elf who had befriended Zevran and enlisted the Wardens' help. "So, Elissa looks around and goes 'Actually, it's exactly what it looks like.'" Alistair's imitation was perfection—he managed to capture Elissa's confused but certain tone as well as her incredulous facial expression.
"I can't believe the guard just let you go," Wynne said, chuckling to herself and shaking her head.
"Sergeant Kylon was just as disgusted by Loghain's treachery as we were." The mention of Loghain turned Elissa's expression serious. "He's assured me that he won't let this get covered up. He won't let them just do this all over again in another month."
"And he also promised to extol the Wardens' virtues to any who will listen," Leliana added. She cocked an eyebrow at Elissa. "It was brave of you to to ask them all to advertise your involvement. Now Loghain knows that you are in the city."
Elissa shrugged. "It can't hurt our reputation with the populace. And if it takes the heat off the elves in the alienage, then its worth it."
Murmurs of agreement from the rest of them showed they agreed. Solona picked up another stick and started picking at it.
She had thought they were goners when the City Guard had shown up, but the Sergeant had turned out to be something of a Warden fan. Lucky Elissa. Must be nice…
The mention of Loghain seemed to deflate everyone enough for them to realize how tired they all were. They started drifting off one by one to their tents, until the camp fire's crackle was once again loud.
Solona was just about to head toward her own tent, eager to escape into her bedroll, when Elissa appeared in front of her, blocking her view of the fire. "Solona. We need to speak in private."
Solona looked around. Sten still sat by the fire, as did Morrigan. She supposed they had watch duty tonight. With a sigh, Solona got to her feet and gestured for Elissa to lead on.
Her mouth went dry as she followed Elissa to the edge of camp. She had told Elissa and Alistair that she became frightened at the sight of some Templars. She told them she fled and shape-shifted into a mouse, only to find herself lost and unable to shape-shift back. They had seemed to buy her story, and it was certainly mortifying enough to have that ring of truth to it. But as Elissa came to a stop by a copse of trees it came to Solona that of course Elissa would want to question her in private. She wouldn't want the others hearing her precious Warden secrets.
Solona licked her lips. "Well?" Elissa seemed to freeze at her tone and Solona cursed her lack of self-control. Aiming for a much more natural tone, she continued. "What did you want to talk about?"
Elissa took a deep breath and seemed to hold it for a few seconds. "Alistair told me a little of the conversation that you two had in the pub," she said. "I just thought that we should meet so I could clarify a few things."
"Oh?"
"Yes. I fear that Alistair may have…intimated a few things that…that I would rather he hadn't."
Solona crossed her arms across her chest and cocked her head to the side to stare at Elissa's silhouette. There was something not quite right about the way this conversation was going. "That so?"
"Indeed." Elissa fell silent for a few seconds. "Regardless of what Alistair may have implied…you do have a choice, Solona. We're not going to kill you if you decide you don't want to become a Warden."
She couldn't stop blinking. "I…what?"
There was a sharp intake of breath. "I thought you wanted to join the Wardens! I thought that was your dream, so I conscripted you. But…Maker's breath, why would I kill you for simply changing your mind?"
"Because…because…fuck, I don't know! But I thought that's what you had to do…"
Elissa waved her arms. "Why? To protect Warden secrets? Are these secrets worth more than your life? I don't think so. Besides, who are you going to tell anyway?"
Solona gaped at her. "Really?"
"Of course." She gave a deep sigh. "I understand the organization's inclination toward secrecy, and if your recruitment had been conducted in the traditional way…well, that'd be one thing. But it wasn't, and frankly…" Elissa gave a little sniff. "Frankly I have a tendency to underestimate the emotional repercussions of some of my decisions. It is a weakness I'm attempting to correct."
"You're…you're serious? You not going to kill me if I refuse the Joining?"
Elissa shook her head. "Solona…do you suppose I have so many friends that I can afford to kill the ones that make a decision I dislike? Besides…" She leaned forward and squeezed Solona's upper arm. "That's a waste of a perfectly good mage if you ask me."
Solona couldn't help herself. She snorted in amusement and relief. "I…completely agree with that assessment."
"Mind you, I still think taking the cup would be your best option if we ever figure out how. I can only offer you so much protection before you officially Join. But, if you'd like you may return to the Circle after you've helped us end the Blight." Elissa's voice dropped to a low tone. "You have my word."
Solona's head was spinning. Was…was something good actually happening to her? It was too good to be true. Her forehead creased with sudden worry. "What does Alistair think of all this?"
Elissa waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. "Alistair will respect my decision."
Amazing. Suddenly the future seemed quite a bit less grim. She felt practically buoyant from the sudden change in moods. "Yeah, you've got the Golden Boy wrapped around your little finger don't you," she teased, poking playfully at Elissa's upper arm.
The Warden's reaction was immediate. She huffed a loud breath and then started stammering. "No, we're not…I mean I'm not…No." She cleared her throat. "Alistair and I are good friends and partners. Nothing more."
Yeah, right. "Sure, of course. My mistake," Solona said with a grin.
Let her have her secrets. Solona was feeling generous.
"So it turns out it was all a bunch of worry over nothing!" Solona popped a strawberry in her mouth, delighted at how real the juices tasted and felt on her tongue. Aurelian truly was a master of dream walking.
"Yes, I see," Aurelian said, leaning back against the bench and looking off at the sunny meadow with a thoughtful frown. "This Elissa of yours…you were right. She is quite pragmatic and clever."
Her brows knit together. She had rather thought Elissa was being more kind and generous than conniving. "How do you mean?"
"Well," he said, gesturing with his hand. "She obviously understands your value and isn't willing to waste it frivolously on the Joining." He met her gaze then, and raised an eyebrow. "Especially not before you have paid her this little favor of yours."
Solona pushed the strawberries around her plate with her finger, all of a sudden not nearly so enamored with them. "So what you're saying is she's only keep me alive until I can do some dream walking thing for her?" She looked up with a scowl. "She gave me her word."
He raised his hands in mock surrender; his expression remained serene. "All I'm saying, Solona…put off this favor as long as you can, if you know what's good for you."
"Yeah, right. Thanks for the advice," she snapped. "I guess I'll see you around."
Without so much as a goodbye, Solona wrenched herself out of the magister's conjured meadow. With a gasp she woke up, and then looked over to Leliana's bedroll, fearful that she had awoken her. But Leliana slept soundly, so Solona turned her gaze to the roof of the tent, contemplating the darkness above her.
It was many hours before she was able to fall back asleep.
PS. 6/13/14 - I have posted a deleted scene from this chapter on my tumblr. Check out my profile for the link if you are curious about their confrontation with Caladrius. Also, thanks to EasternViolet - Some of Solona's shape-shifting experiences were inspired and borrowed from her creative world-building.