Solas awoke just as Andra was returning to their small camp, two scrawny hares in one hand and a small bag of foraged greens and mushrooms in the other. She had gone hunting.
"On dhea." She set about preparing breakfast, quiet and focus despite feeling Solas' eyes boring into her. She could tell something was on his mind but he said nothing. Maybe it was the look on her face that stopped him—stoic, lost in thought—or maybe it was just all in her head. She always had a hard time reading him.
"You're up early," he finally said.
"Since before dawn," Andra answered as she skinned and cleaned the rabbits, then cutting the meat and placing it in a pot she had filled with water, spices, and vegetables to boil. "I needed to clear my head."
Solas set about preparing a smaller pot for the coffee they had bought from Antiva. Neither of them had ever had a proclivity for the caffeinated drink, but Madri really meant it when she said they wouldn't find better anywhere else. It was unlike anything they had tasted before. Delicious and accompanied by a wonderfully exotic aroma. For Andra, it conjured memories of playing Wicked Grace with her friends—intoxicated on good company and laughter and a warm fire burning in the hearth. It made her feel comforted and relaxed. Even more so when she spooned in just a little bit of honey from a small jar she had taken from the Inquisition's kitchen before leaving Skyhold. That made it feel more like sitting around the campfire back in her Dalish camp, listening to Haren Samrion tell stories of Elvhen legends and myths to the children.
"How is your head feeling?"
Andra smiled, "It still smarts but the headache is gone and I feel much better."
"I hope you don't plan on running off like that again today," Solas said, a slight pang of worry in his tone.
Andra let out a short breath of a laugh, "Te'telisa, I won't." She did feel concern though that she had so easily fallen into a craze. Even thinking about it brought on a new wave of embarrassment.
A long silence stretched between them as Solas made each of them a cup of the aromatic brew. Andra took a long sip, reveling in the warmth that spread through her, and stared a the boiling pot over the fire. Even though summer was beginning to creep up on them, spring nearly over, there was still the slight nip of cold when the sun went down. The chill reminded her of that night she and Solas spent in the Temple of Mythal. It seemed so long ago now—so much having happened even though over two months had passed.
She hoped Calem was safe and back with his clan.
Andra's stomach turned. She didn't want to think about her childhood friend. Not because she didn't want to care, but because she did. And remembering how she had to hurt him in order to protect him only intensified the guilt.
"Did you have any more dreams about your parents?" Solas asked as he drank from his own cup of coffee.
The broken silence startled Andra out of her thoughts. "Ahn?"
"I've just been thinking, since you told me about your dream last night, and the one before—at the temple. Have you ever had any others like them before?"
Andra blinked at the question. Such a thought had never even crossed her mind. "I... don't know..." she said honestly. But she was already digging through her memories as she stared at the dark liquid in her cup.
Her life flashed through her mind's eye as if she was skimming a picture book. When she was young, she could admit that she had many odd dreams. Of tile artwork on walls and blue fire; of hooded elves and countless hallways and doors. Now that Andra was older and understood a little more, she recognized that she had been dreaming of the Temple of Mythal. Of her time there with Abelas and her parents before they died. But as she got older, her dreams were less cryptic. She dreamt of her time with the Ashihari—her time with Calem for those short years before their clans separated. The two of them really had been so close and had focused so intently on building their lives together. Andra wondered why she had chosen not to stay in touch. Then again, Calem wasn't any better. Neither of them had tried very hard in the end. But those pleasant dreams weren't always so. As she went into her teens, there was more uncertainty. Andra would see faces of people she had never met when she closed her eyes. Places she had never seen. At the edges, glowing figures would watch her. Knowing what she did now, Andra realized spirits had come to her. She was thankful they kept their distance but the thought still unnerved her. She might not have been a mage but even ordinary people could get possessed.
Andra's adult years were less confusing, though her dreams no less strange. She realized, now that she really thought about it, that there were unusual nights she had brushed off with one excuse or another. Back then, she hadn't had any reason to question her life or her origins. She hadn't even been outside of the Free Marches. Her world was small and certain and simple. So her dreams were cast as just that. Dreams. Who could ever really make sense of what they saw while sleeping anyway? The Fade affected the mind in mysterious ways. That was the excuse she always made.
But...
"I have had strange dreams before," Andra began carefully, not knowing quite where to begin. Solas perked up at this but remained silent, waiting patiently for her to go on. "Nothing quite as vivid as the one I had at the temple or the one while I was unconscious yesterday, but I remember... seeing my parents. I didn't know it was them at the time. They were nothing like the old memories I've been seeing. More like, they were actual memories, before the Dalish took me in." Her brows furrowed, "My mother would entertain me in the temple—ask me riddles..." Her face softened, a realization coming over her, "Shifa, shifa, ahnsul ane tas felas?" Her breath caught in her throat and she barely whispered out the rest, "Ahnsul, da'len, eman tel'an telas."
Solas had moved closer and gently brushed a thumb over Andra's cheek. She hadn't even realized she'd started crying.
"Ir abelas, vhenan," Solas said.
A bit embarrassed, Andra pulled away and rubbed her hands over her face, "No, I'm sorry. I don't know what brought that on."
Eager to distract herself, Andra checked on the pot over the fire, stirring it and then—satisfied it was ready—scooping out the stew into two bowls. She handed one to Solas before settling back down next to him.
"I met with a spirit last night," He said after taking a bite and smiling. It might not have been much, but Andra was quite a good cook.
"Wisdom?"
He shook his head, "No, they didn't come here with us. This spirit is native to this forest."
"A good spirit, I hope."
Solas chuckled, "Sometimes it's not so black and white. I can't speak for their intentions, but I will say that they have quite the penchant for observing."
"I don't know how much that reassures me."
"This spirit watched your parents as they fled Arlathan."
Andra froze. Had she heard that right? Could spirits really do that?
"They escaped before Tevinter reached the city. They were traveling with friends and split up after they heard of the danger. Your parents went to the temple, a couple tried to go back to warn everyone, the rest fled to Cad'halash."
She was at a loss for words. This was too unreal. But she also recognized the opportunity in front of her. After a moment to collect her thoughts, "What else did the spirit say?"
Solas smiled, recognizing the same eagerness he often felt himself behind Andra's eyes. It was why he walked the Fade so often, collecting pieces of the past. "Your parents were dreamers. I believe that's why you're even able to have these strange dreams, even though you're no mage. Maybe there's a little magic in you."
Andra laughed, "Is it possible to only be part mage?"
He shrugged, "Stranger things have happened. But no, I don't think that's really what it is."
"You called them dreamers. That's a special kind of mage right? I remember a boy who passed through my Dalish camp when I was younger, on his way to Tevinter. Feynriel. Keeper Sathari had called him a dreamer."
"It's an incredible gift to have. A mage can enter the Fade at will without lyrium."
"Is that what you are? Is that why you can control dreams so easily?"
He chuckled, "I thought it obvious, but yes."
Andra set down her half-eaten stew in front of her, "Onharos." She leaned back, lying down, and looked up at the sunlight filtering through the treetops. "I wish I could do that. Maybe this all wouldn't have been so complicated if I just hadn't needed to ask so many people for help."
"Where would that put us?"
She smiled, "You're right." She turned to look at him, "I'm glad things worked out like this."
Solas set his own stew aside and leaned over his companion. "As am I." He placed a soft kiss on her lips and Andra melted there on the ground. It had been some time since they had shared an intimate moment like this.
Sometimes, she wondered how everything had come to this point. All the events that had had to take place just for the two of them to meet. And even then, everything that had had to happen for them to come back together. Would they even be here, together, if she truly was wholly Dalish and Sathari had never plucked her from the Arbor Wilds? She doubted it.
Andra lifted a hand and placed it on the back of Solas' neck, deepening the kiss. There were no distractions around this time and she wanted this. She wanted him. Just being close like this, being in his arms as he snaked a hand underneath her and pressed her to him at the small of her back, it was exactly where she wanted to be.
She felt her body sitting up, moving so the two of them were on their knees as they continued the kiss. She felt him undoing the strings of her shirt as she lifted his over his head. When they pulled away for a breath, she admired the sight of his toned muscles and ran her hands over his chest. A hand in her hair undid her updo and waves of platinum blonde fell around her shoulders, barely the tops of her pointed ears poking through.
She pushed Solas back, laying him across her bedroll, and climbed on top of him. Desire had bloomed ferociously in her middle and she couldn't deny it anymore.
All that mattered was that she wanted to be as close to him as she could. Skin to skin, their bodies pressed together. She needed him to hold her close and kiss her more and whisper sweet nothings. She just needed him.
ELVHEN USED:
On dhea: "Good morning"
Haren: "Elder"
Te'telisa: "Don't worry"
Ahn?: "What?"
Shifa, shifa, ahnsul ane tas felas?: "Turtle, turtle, why are you so slow?"
Ahnsul, da'len, eman tel'an telas: "Because, child, I have no place to be"
Ir abelas, vhenan: "I'm sorry, my heart."
Onharos: "Wondrous / Amazing / Fascinating"
