No translations, just a comfortable chat with Dorian.

Quiet Interludes

I touched the crystal and whispered the word Dorian had taught me to activate it. A third of a continent away, I knew his was lighting in response and chiming gently to catch his attention. Whether he had the attention to spare was another matter.

Then his rich voice filled my tent. "Silea, my dearest friend. To what do I owe the pleasure? Especially so early in the morning."

I glanced toward the flaps of my tent. The canvas of the tent was laced with lyrium and charged with a spell of silence that I could activate by sealing the flaps covering the entrance. This was the compromise Leliana and I had reached - I needed the privacy on occasion, but a permanent spell of silence would have been far too dangerous. I wouldn't be able to call for help if an assassin managed to find me. Even the simple activation for the spell was a danger, should knowledge of it fall into the wrong hands.

But - I did sometimes need privacy.

The flaps on the tent were secured.

Ignoring Dorian's light teasing, I said: "I need the opinion of a mage, and contacting you from the road - I'm on my way to Cumberland, in case you didn't get word - is simple compared to contacting anyone else." For a moment my words hovered between us, and then I sighed. "No. Wait. That is - roughly a tenth of the truth. Besides Solas, you are the only mage I know whom I feel I have any hope of being able to trust. And - obviously I can't trust Solas, even if I could speak with him, which I also cannot do."

Dorian let my convoluted - and contradictory - statement pass without comment. "And here I had hoped you just wanted to chat. Catch up a bit. Ask after each other's families, perhaps."

I smiled in spite of myself. "Before dawn? Besides, what would we say? You barely speak to what is left of your family, and more than half of my clan has thrown in with Fen'Harel. Does either of us really wish to discuss it?"

"A fair point," he conceded. "Very well, then, what insanity have you thrown yourself into this time?"

"Well, it starts, really, with a piece of insanity from Solas…" I began.

"Doesn't it always?" Dorian replied, and though his voice tried for lazy amusement, he was unable to cover the biting scorn it held.

Then...I had to tell him everything, things I had told no one: about Solas watching me in the Fade; the reasons I had grown more and more certain it was him, and not just my own desires reflected back to me; his disappearance and Latha's arrival; the endless arguments I wasted my nights on; and now...now everything else Latha had revealed, including its insistence that I might need to enter the Fade physically, as well as its reasons for helping me. Dorian, to his credit, listened without interjecting, only making a sound now and then so I would know he could still hear me. By the time I finished, the sun was rising and the camp stirring. The privacy seal on my tent only went one way - I needed to be able to hear what was happening outside at all times. I listened now as Dorian thought over what I had said, aware that soon this conversation would have to end so I could ready myself for the day's march.

"You know what you are doing is incredibly dangerous," Dorian told me after a long pause. Once again, though his tone attempted nonchalance, it fell short. I could hear how concerned he was for me.

"Everything I do is dangerous, and a sizable portion of it could be called incredibly dangerous," I retorted, uncertain whether I was trying to reassure him or not.

If I had been, apparently I had failed. "That is not reassuring," he told me flatly. "In fact, given the number of unavoidable perils you face, I would much prefer you start avoiding the avoidable ones."

I sighed, rubbing my forehead. "Dorian - look, if all you want to do is argue, we will have to do it later. My company should be breaking camp soon - unless I hold everyone up."

"Hold everyone up," he advised me. "Try not being so responsible for once in your endearingly short life."

I considered reminding him that I wasn't that much younger than he was - less than ten years separated us - but I knew he was only saying it to distract me. It was his usual tactic when he was trying to buy time to think or to avoid a subject he would rather not tackle. "We are in the middle of arguing about how irresponsible my Fade activities are," I reminded him instead. "I'm sorry not to be irresponsible in the ways that would make you look better, but-"

He laughed at my jab, and then sighed. "Perhaps...later is better anyway. I may need some time to think this over. Preferably time after the sun clears the horizon."

"Would you have time to talk this evening?" I asked him.

He was quiet for a moment, thinking. "I fear not. You know how it is: always having to deal with trivialities like ending slavery, battling Qunari, and not ending the world."

"I do have experience in some of those areas, yes," I agreed. "Would tomorrow evening suit you better?"

"It gives me more time to move things," he said thoughtfully, and then his voice became decisive: "For you, I will make an opening in my schedule."

"Please don't tell Leliana about this," I begged, realizing I likely should have mentioned that earlier. Evidence of how much this had been weighing on me, I supposed - it had spilled out with no conditions the moment I gave it an opening.

"Does she know any of it?" Dorian asked, surprise evident in his voice. I couldn't blame him - Leliana and I were still close, even with her as Divine, and the secrets we kept from each other were usually more professional than personal. This one was both - but if it weren't personal, I wouldn't have kept it for professional reasons.

"I mentioned once that I thought Solas might watch my dreams, but she never followed up after I told her he always disappeared before I could speak to him." I told him. "I suspect she believes it's my imagination."

"I suspect she believes nothing of the sort," Dorian countered, "but there isn't an obvious benefit for her there, and she is - we have all been - reluctant to press you too hard on this subject." His next words were an angry mutter: "Does that fool even understand what he is throwing away?"

"Yes," I told Dorian, certain that it was true. "So - keep it in mind while you're attempting to calculate how desperate he is."

"Maker," he sighed.

"Exactly," I agreed. "Perhaps that will help you understand why I am willing to do something so incredibly dangerous?"

"Perhaps," he replied. "I will give it thought - and I will keep it to myself. For the moment, anyway."

"Tomorrow night, then?" I asked. "Likely just after sunset for me - so a little later for you."

"I will arrange my schedule accordingly," Dorian promised. "Until tomorrow, my friend."

"Until tomorrow," I agreed.

The crystal went dark, and I rose hurriedly, knowing I needed to rush if I was to be ready with the rest of the camp.

I made it - barely - by skipping out on a hot breakfast, and found my place at the center of the company, fishing out some dried fruit and meat as I did so. It wasn't much of a meal, but it would keep me in the saddle until midday, when I would have the thrilling chance to eat more of both, with the addition of whatever bread the baker traveling with us had left over from the morning meal.

We never had a baker or dedicated cook back in the early days, and though I also hadn't generally missed out on any hot meals, there were times we had had to break camp too quickly to make one in the morning, so none of this was unfamiliar. Of course, I had also been younger then, with both arms, and able to do more with less - less food, less sleep, less information. Who would have thought at the time that I would look back with nostalgia on my days of desperately trying to outmaneuver a Blighted magister bent on attaining godhood?

Harding was riding with me again, and she had, again, surrounded us with her scouts. She watched in amusement as I tore off mouthfuls of tough foodstuffs, vainly trying to soften them by drinking often from my skin of water.

"Not going to work unless it's boiling," she told me as I took another drink.

"I know, but let me wish," I retorted around a mouthful of what felt, though thankfully didn't taste, like boiled leather.

"Not like you to be late," she went on. "Were my reports that interesting last night?"

It felt as though I had to cast my mind back a long way to remember my thoughts from the night before. Something had certainly been interesting last night.

I chewed doggedly and swallowed, glad of the chance to recall the conclusions I had drawn from her reports before my time in the Fade made those concerns feel trivial. They weren't, after all - red lyrium was never a trivial concern.

"The sickness - the glowing 'rubies' - those certainly point to red lyrium," I told her. "I thought perhaps you ought to focus on those as they're more likely to lead somewhere. I might be able to take on the giant spider and look for traces of the Qunari. Those concerns are more likely to be entirely separate from the lyrium question, but someone will have to examine them to be safe."

Harding considered my proposal. "Easy 'yes' on the giant spider - hunting monsters is more your area than mine, though you'll want to take some of my people or some of the College's mages with you when you're ready to corner it. The Qunari, though...are you sure that's a good idea?"

"I don't think we are dealing with spies from the Antaam," I told her, "but if we are, I expect they will have found or not found whatever they were looking for and moved on by now. The Antaam do have their own spies, but they are usually focused narrowly on setting up an area for invasion. That both makes it unlikely it was the Antaam to begin with - Cumberland hasn't been invaded - and also means that, a month on, if they didn't manage to do what they wanted to do, they will have pulled back."

"Sure," Harding agreed, allowing my arguments to stand. "But what if it's a Ben-Hassrath operation? They're dangerous, too."

"If it's Ben-Hassrath, there's a good chance they are looking into some of the same things we are," I told her. "From the little we have been able to glean, they are just as concerned by red lyrium and the rise of Fen'Harel as any of the rest of us might be - more, since they find magic so abhorrent. It would actually be a good opportunity to make contact. None of our other agents have managed, and they have ignored messages sent. I doubt they will ignore me."

"Yeah, but will they not ignore you by talking to you or killing you?" Harding muttered.

"They won't kill me," I assured her, almost as certain of it as I sounded. "They don't want the south thrown into chaos while Fen'Harel remains a threat, remember? Besides," I added, "if no one has spotted them recently, there's a good chance they would also have moved on. If that's the case, I likely won't find anything noteworthy - they run tight operations."

"They might have switched to Viddathari agents," Harding mused. "Why send Qunari in the first place, though? They...stand out."

"One more question to add to the pile," I told her with a shrug.

"Well - I guess I won't object if you want to hunt Qunari, but if you start getting close to anything, bring me in. You...aren't expendable." I opened my mouth to protest that she wasn't either, but she held up her hand. "No, what I mean is - you're pretty much essential." She laughed nervously. "A lot of the world falls apart without you holding it together."

"No pressure," I muttered.

"Hey, that's what you get for playing catch-the-orb with ancient darkspawn magisters," she told me with a grin. "Next time, just let it roll by."

I laughed and we rode on, making plans.