Ferelden truly was such a cold place. After the warmth of Antiva, and Arlathan Forest especially—being so close to the warm north of Seheron—the change seemed drastic. Andra almost wanted to go back. In fact, the more she thought about it, the more she wanted to live in that wood. Even without the ancient elvhen city, it called to her. There was magic and memory and history weaving between those trees. She longed for it. And she didn't know if that was because her past connected her to it or if it was just an elf thing. Maybe they were one and the same.

The journey back still took a week. Though it was, thankfully, normal and uneventful. Avoiding Jader and smugglers altogether. There were no smelly clothes, no being stuffed into crates—and this time, they would be arriving in Denerim. From there, it was only four weeks to Skyhold. Faster on horse or by carriage but Andra and Solas didn't have that kind of money, and neither of them really minded the walk.

"What do you make of all this?" Andra asked as the two of them exited the city once they resupplied.

"I assume you're talking about what we've learned? Sometimes dreams are more metaphorical than they are real, but spirits have no reason to lie. Unless it's a demon seeking to possess you. That said, I think it's fair to say that everything we've learned so far is true," Solas answered.

"That would mean my parents entered Uthenera. Only to wake up and be killed by a bunch humans..."

"Yes, but think of it this way—they slept, and Abelas was kind enough to watch over them, for over a millennium. Then they awoke, feeling safe enough to start a family. I'm certain they treasured those years with you, no matter how brief."

"I only wish I could have known them..."

"I'll admit, I'm surprised to learn that you're related to elves who were there for the fall of our people. I grieve their loss with you."

"It must have been horrible to experience the Quickening. I can't even imagine living for so long only to start aging the way humans do."

"I agree," Solas said with a slight melancholy in his voice. "Perhaps that's why they decided to start a family? With their time suddenly finite, I imagine they wanted to find a glimmer of hope after living in fear for so long. Not only that, but we've lost so much culture. So much history. I'd give anything to restore what we were."

"Anything?"

"Yes."

"Is that why you're afraid to get too close to me? Why you told me that us being together was unwise?"

Solas looked to his companion at his side. Her eyes were searching him, almost pleading. But he didn't have answers she wanted to hear. "Andra," He stopped walking, her a couple steps later. They faced each other, "I want you to know that this is real. Whatever the future brings, ar lath ma. I've never pretended my feelings for you, only tried to hold them back."

Andra's face fell, "So you'll leave me one day?"

Solas moved closer, placing a finger under her chin and tilting her head to look up at him, "Ir abelas, vhenan, but I won't make a promise I can't keep. For now, our paths are quite entwined. Is that not enough?"

"What if I said I wanted to stay by your side, always? That I would gladly follow you wherever you might go, even if it means leaving everything I know behind?"

"I would never ask you to do such a thing."

"I know. Which is why I'm offering."

"Vhenan... As much as I want it, it's better this way. Better for me to fix the problems I've caused on my own."

Andra was confused, "What problems?"

Solas' pulled away, looking pained.

"No, don't do that! Don't shut me out," Andra pleaded.

"Ir abelas, this isn't something I want to share. There's so much at stake, and I can't afford to let anyone else get in the way."

"Solas..."

"Come, let's get back to Skyhold. I believe a spirit is waiting for you."

.

.

.

Mischief buzzed with an absolute giddiness as it circled Andra. In Elvhen, it spoke, "You've returned! And? It was everything you could have dreamed, correct?"

Andra held back the urge to roll her eyes, "It was... interesting."

"I can see that your true self is awake! Maybe this was too strong a first quest. I should have started you out smaller."

"Smaller?"

"Yes! To build you up to the great reveal! And it would have been quite fun, I assure you."

"What do you mean? You said this was only the first."

"It was. It was. But the memories were too noisy and you woke right up." Mischief stopped circling and just hovered, "I had planned a few more things. A spoon in Orlais! A song in Tevinter! But there's no reason to send you off to find them now."

Andra's brow furrowed in confusion, "A spoon and a song? How would either of those have helped me?"

"It's not important. I realize now I gave you your quest out of order. Lucky you. I'm not usually so careless, but I was just so excited to meet you!"

"You're not making any sense."

Mischief let out a hum that sounded more like a laugh, golden glow flickering with the sound, "I suppose here's where we say our goodbyes."

"What? That's it?"

"That's it."

A rock hit Andra in the back. She cried out, startled, and whirled around but saw only the Fade. Confused, she turned back but Mischief was already gone. The vision began to melt back into a normal dream. Without the aid of the spirit, Andra didn't have control over her subconscious anymore.

She was with the Ashihari, staring into the halla pen. The creatures looked so peaceful and content. Their calm was washing over her and soon she had forgotten all about spirits and their tricks. There was only her clan and she loved it here.

When she turned around, the sight of busy elves made her smile. Haren Samrion was sitting in a circle with some children, telling them a story about the Emerald Knights. Keeper Sathari was speaking with her First, Oriana, by her tent. Hunters were training with targets, their arrows skillfully hitting their marks. The clan craftsman, Haren Pahorn, was scolding his apprentice for warping the wood that would have been used to make a small buckler. It all just felt right. Being here with everyone, seeing the day to day life Andra had grown up with and loved. But there was something else she now noticed. The elders would cast her glances every now and then, as if wary. Andra suddenly remembered her Vallaslin was gone but when she approached a bucket of water and peered into it, the markings of Dirthamen were still on her face, as if Solas had never removed them at all. She realized then that the glances were because they knew. Sathari might have sworn them into keeping quiet—and the children would grow up being non the wiser—but Andra was an outsider. She was born an elf, but she wasn't born Dalish. No one had ever treated her any different than a member of the clan, and everyone loved her very much, but they still couldn't help just looking at her. She was an enigma to them. And that unknowing, that made them a little wary.

She had always felt it, now that she really thought about it.

But dreams are hazy and intoxicating, and soon Andra wasn't thinking about it anymore and there were no more eyes on her.

Then, she saw a flash of dark brown hair, golden eyes, and a welcoming smile. A little boy ran past her with a slingshot, pulling it back and firing an stone into the sky. "Take that dragon!" He dove into an unskilled roll, struggled a bit to get back to his feet, then took off around a nearby tent and disappeared while shouting, "Fear me, beast!" Andra couldn't help but laugh.

"We'll always be together, right Andra?" She turned and looked down, seeing the same boy but a little older.

"Promise me." A new voice, deeper. She looked to her other side to see the boy now a teen. "Let's weave the Ara'lin'hasal together! That way, no matter how far apart we are, we'll always remember our promise and we'll always find each other."

She whispered, "Calem—"

"What happened to us, Andra?" This time, the voice was a deep she recognized. And as she spun around to look behind her, there he was, as he had looked when she broke his heart all those months ago. "Why didn't you give me a chance?"

She was crying, "I didn't want you to get hurt..."

"You didn't even pretend to have faith in me." He reached for her face but didn't touch her.

"You would have hated me."

"I could never hate you."

"If I had let you come with me, you would have ended up gone from my life for good."'

His hand dropped back to his side, "I'm gone from your life now."

"But at least this way it's better."

He was drifting away from her. "You promised. You promised but you didn't have any trust in me."

"No, I—"

He was gone. The dream was gone.

Andra awoke and sat up on her beadroll. She and Solas were almost to Skyhold but now... She looked over to Solas who was still asleep. Her heart felt heavy. She loved the man next to her with everything she had. She loved him so much that what he said back at Denerim crushed her. She just didn't understand. After everything they had been through, he should know her better. Should know that she would go to the ends of the earth for her friends—so she'd go even farther for him.

She wished he trusted her more.

She cast a glance to the side at that. 'Trusted her more', the way she did with Calem? She was no better than Solas in that regard. The thought made her hug her legs to her body as she stared into the embers of the dying firepit next to them. Had this all been worth it? Finding out she descended directly from ancient elves, dremers at that, but she had to leave everything behind to do so. The Inquisition would always welcome her back, but she didn't want that life. A life where a once great cause was now nothing more that political pandering and social parties and nobles arguing. It didn't have the same meaning.

No, she wanted to return to the forest—but with less restriction than the Dalish had. She wanted to roam and be free and enjoy everything life could offer her. In that regard, traveling with Solas made the most sense. But he didn't want to invite her into his life that deeply, it seemed.

Maybe she was just missing something? Maybe he just didn't believe that she was truly devoted to him? Despite everything that had happened, she had made all her own choices willingly. Some of them hurt, but she could live with that. Pain and all, she wouldn't change anything. She just didn't know where she would go once she was alone.

Her future felt uncertain.


ELVHEN USED:

Uthenera: "Immortal". A prolonged slumber practiced by ancient elves to make 'long jumps through time', or when they were just tired of life. (Abelas and the other ancient sentinels entered this state often, waking only to protect the Temple of Mythal from invaders.)

Ar lath ma: "I love you."

Ir abelas: "I'm sorry"

Vhenan: "My heart"

Haren: "Elder"

Vallaslin: Blood writing. Dalish receive these markings around 18, sometimes younger. When of age, the elf prepares by meditating on the Gods and the Dalish, then by purifying the body and skin. When the time comes, the Keeper applies the blood writing—in complete silence. Cries of pain are taken as a sign of weakness. If the elf cannot tolerate the pain, they are deemed unready to take on the responsibilities of an adult and the Keeper may make the decision to stop the ritual.

Ara'lin'hasal: "Lover's knot". (There are always two halves to this bracelet, usually shared between two people that deeply care for each other—as the name implies.)


OTHER WORDS/PHRASES USED:

The Quickening: The end to Elvhen longevity. An arguable point usually corelating to the Elvhen gods being locked away, the Veil erected which sundered the world and Fade into two separate entities, and/or Tevinter destroying Arlathan.