"You really would give up the grandeur of the past for her," the woman whose inked skin told as many stories as one of Halamshiral's libraries leveled a steady gaze at him from across the gurgling mountain stream. His hands stilled their motion, settling empty jugs on the rocks beside him as he waited for the spaekona, Auralia, to continue. "What will you do if she rejects you?" Auralia leaned back on her heels, her arms wrapped around her knees as she continued to rock in time with the flow of water over rocks. "Will that be the catalyst to corrupt your spirit and turn the world upside down once more?"
A fire-scented breeze snaked through the ferns beside them, rusting the loose bits of Solas' hair against the nape of his neck and sending a shiver through his body. In the distance, he heard the continued revelry of the witenagemōt, and he knew in one of the simple huts alongside the ringen match arena was where Serilda continued to work patching up friends and family members as they vied for next hauptling. He knew with little imagining that she would be calculating, straightforward, and yet not without compassion as she sought to heal those who passed under her care. He'd been on the receiving end of that type of focus more than once.
Dietmar had spoken true, and Solas' initial reception had been less cordial than even when he'd first come across Seeker Cassandra and the early forces of the Inquisition. It had only been Dietmar's declaration of Serilda's promise that kept even her brother Landrich from killing Solas on sight. Over the next few days, certain members of Serilda's family warmed enough to him to ask Solas questions and speak to him as near a peer, whereas others continued to shift away or grunt their displeasure whenever he was near. Serilda's mother, Frieda, blind now from a disease that had ravaged her own grandmother as well, seemed to have the slightest issue with Solas' elvhen nature and even leaned on his arm more than was necessary when he escorted her around the village to show solidarity with Serilda for her own acceptance of Solas as a companion—even if it was still uncertain for how long that companionship might last.
Once the witenagemōt began soon after their arrival, Solas willingly retreated to Auralia's side to assist her and Serilda in maintaining supplies and medical aid for those competing. His days were spent collecting and assisting, and his evenings were spent sitting between Frieda and Serilda, listening to Auralia and others more open to him share stories of their collective past. Only in the early morning hours did he have time alone to meditate, moving away from the village to a secluded glade where he sat and ruminated over recent events. And his nights he spent waiting for Serilda in the Fade. Sometimes she joined him; other times, he was left alone. And of those times that she joined him, in some she seemed to be aware of the waking dream and maintained the reserve she held even in the waking hours, whereas with others, she was far more open and interested in physical connection with him. These latter dreams Solas rightfully assumed Serilda was not fully aware of, though he treasured them nonetheless.
Auralia clicked her tongue against her teeth while Solas picked up one of the filling jugs and resumed his work, "I will outlive Serilda by many years, and should she reject my desire to be united, I will remain as close as she allows, doing what I can to aid her and her kin, even after she dies."
He spoke openly with Auralia as not only had Serilda chosen to bear all to her elder sister, but much of it Auralia had already known, rendering Solas dumbfounded with the insight and power of observation the spaekona had even without formal training. Solas couldn't help but wonder how many untrained and unaware mages lived among Serilda's people, passing through life without a concept of possession or spirit corruption, never pushing their magical limits so far to bring notice upon them from the outside world.
Finishing with the jug, Solas offered a small smile to the stoic-faced woman as he turned to fill the next one. "I have no interest in dredging up the past. Not when through her eyes and the insight of this spirit, I have seen the truth of what such actions will bring not only for my people but for all of Thedas. Such devastation is not worthwhile for anyone. As much as she means to me, I would not destroy this world for her, yet I will also not destroy this world because of her."
Auralia took one of his full jugs and handed him another empty one, "You have met her in waking dreams?"
Solas paused and looked across the way to the now smiling woman, "Yes."
"Was she aware of these meetings, or were they under the guise of undisciplined dreams?"
"Both." Solas set down the now full jug and mimicked Auralia's stance. "Why do you ask?"
"It is rare in our culture for a man to dream walk as a woman, though is it not unheard of," Auralia smirked. "Those times where a man and woman found each other both in waking dreams and in the waking world have been sung about for generations."
Intrigued, Solas tipped his head to the side, "What songs were they? Tragedies? Instructional parodies?"
"Hope-filled romance." Auralia's smile grew bigger at Solas' deepening curiosity. "In each of those songs, it united the two dream walkers as one. The gods would have it no other way." Auralia shrugged. "Sometimes this meant they had to break oaths with others, become thralls, or face outlawry, but always they were to become one against all odds or else greater destruction would be visited upon themselves and their people. The process was rarely 'acceptable' or 'normal' by our people's standards, but once they were united, a wave of great peace and prosperity came over the land, and all breaking of tradition was then excused."
"It must've been, or else it would not have become a song, no?" Solas' smile mimicked Auralia's, and they shared a warm moment of camaraderie. Solas was the first to break the silence with his question, "Why do you mention these songs to me?"
Auralia pointed to the jugs beside him, "We have been gone too long. She will require fresh water by now."
Solas picked up the jugs and fell into step behind the taller woman. She was of a more lithe build than Serilda, but taller still than the honey-blonde woman who continued to evade his advances. The inked designs on Auralia's skin were of a much different nature than the vallaslin of his people. Once the threat of death had passed, Solas found himself intrigued enough to question the designs' bearer on their meanings. Some of Serilda's kin, including Auralia, had welcomed his questions cordially enough and explained, whereas others continued to keep him at arm's length, ever wary.
"Will you tell me, or should I ask Serilda why?" Solas smiled to himself at the glare Auralia tossed over her shoulder.
"It pleases me you are no less tenacious than she." Auralia stopped just shy of the village border. She set her two jugs on the ground before placing her hands on her hips. Solas also stopped and set down his jugs, holding his hands together in front of his body as he waited for Auralia to gather her thoughts, as it was obvious she was trying to do. A few heartbeats later, she sighed, "You are no stranger to the animosity our people have shown you, judging you guilty of the pains wrought by those who share your ancestry."
"Very distant ancestry." Solas cooly added, earning another eye-rolling glare.
"Would it not be just like the gods to bring two people together in waking dreams from two very different clans, that by their unification there could be lasting peace upon the land?" Auralia brought her eyes back to Solas, and it momentarily struck him with how similar that light of hope he saw in her eyes was to the one he'd always seen in Serilda's. Strange and endearing that such an isolated and hardy people could cling so readily and fiercely to hope. Perhaps that is the only way one can survive against all odds: by the strength of hope.
Solas smiled, "I do not disagree with your assessment, Auralia. Though I would point out that elves and humans are more than different clans."
"And I would point out," Auralia leaned forward to press a firm finger against his breastbone, "that you have accepted a life without clan after nearly destroying all for the sake of a memory of your own." Solas sobered and nodded, but Auralia continued. "And Serilda, though welcome in her own clan, has seen so much and been a part of so much outside of our borders that I do not know if she will ever desire to remain." Auralia bent to pick up the jugs of water. "At least not without a purpose."
Solas followed her with the remaining jugs, "What sort of purpose would persuade her, do you think?"
"Would it not be to the gods' liking if two such people could find one another in both the waking world and in dreams?" Auralia continued along the original conversation theme, and Solas smiled. Rarely did Solas find himself on the receiving end of cryptic questions voiced by enigmatic dreamers, and yet here he was in the wilds of Thedas receiving much the same treatment he'd gifted to other members of the Inquisition when they asked him questions. He found the irony amusing and fitting. "Then they would have a purpose together, as they united the clans and brought peace within our borders."
It seemed, to his surprise, that Auralia was gifting him with cultural insight to aid in his efforts to woo Serilda. An unlikely ally and equally unlikely fodder for "attack," and yet Solas could see the potential results from such information rightfully applied. He smiled. He found his genuine respect and cordiality towards Auralia deepen, for her mind was calculating, yet her heart still remained open. Without the pain brought on by the recent fighting with the elves, Serilda's people were overall more inclined to deep philosophy, storytelling and tradition building, great revelry, and arts than he otherwise would've expected. No matter what became of his offer to Serilda, he was thankful for this time here as it further opened his eyes to new ways of thinking and perceiving the world, not so different from his many years of wandering the Fade. And it helped to further the resolve in his soul that this was the right decision, to walk away from the past and to leave the residual pockets of his people to make their own paths forward.
"Could you teach me one of these songs?" Solas asked as they drew near the match arena, and next to it, Serilda's medical hut.
Auralia smiled, "I have already asked the musicians at tonight's feast to play them all. One right after another. Over and over again." She laughed then, "It is not only Serilda who can be tenacious."
"So I see." Solas shared in her mirth as they came into the hut.
He immediately spied Serilda kneeling next to a cot along the far wall. She did not seem to notice their arrival just yet. Though her hair was still firmly secured in its plait, some of it had loosened to frame her face, and he saw a healthy flush upon her cheeks from either exertion or elation. She was talking calmly with a young boy as she continued to wrap linen around a splint. Solas remembered the boy, Ulrich, from the second day he'd been in the village. If it hadn't been for Solas, in fact, the boy might've suffered worse injuries than a mere broken arm and dislocated shoulder. But for Solas' quick reflexes and minimum magic usage, covertly applied, the boy when he fell from the roof he'd been repairing with his brother would have surely been rendered crippled.
Auralia whistled a happy tune as she moved further into the hut, drawing the pair's attention. Serilda's eyes first fell on Auralia, and Solas watched as her lips drew into a smile. Then she moved her gaze to meet his, and he felt a rekindling of hope when the smile did not die but grew, and the light of it reached her eyes. Solas held up the jugs as he followed Auralia.
"Is there anything else you'd like me to do?" Solas asked as he turned to watch Serilda finish off the splint before standing back up to her full height.
Serilda shook her head, "I think we have everything we need here, for now. We basically just need to wait for the next idiot to get hurt before we do anything else." She glanced between Auralia, who now busied herself with reorganizing some of Serilda's tools, and Solas. "Did you have a nice walk out to the stream?"
It seemed she knew her sister well enough to rightfully assume that something had passed between them, but it also seemed that Auralia was not interested in shedding light on the truth. Neither would Solas betray her aid by giving anything away, so he merely smiled and nodded.
"Ulrich," Auralia turned to the boy as he began his slow limp from the hut, "take Solas with you to Hilde. I believe they need more hands in the kitchen for tonight's feast."
"Are you certain that is wise?" Serilda stepped forward, her arms crossing over her chest. When she saw Solas' questioning look, she sighed, "an elvhen attack killed Hilde's youngest son not two months ago. He was five."
Solas frowned, "Was it an intentional killing, or was he caught in the crossfire?" He quickly added, "I am not trying to defend their actions. I am merely-"
"Asking questions that should always be asked," Auralia interrupted with a firm nod before adding, "it was not an intentional killing. Even Hilde knows that. But the fact remains, it was an elvhen arrow that pierced his thigh that caused him to bleed to death in his mother's arms." Auralia reached out and placed a hand on Serilda's shoulder. "I have instructed the women of our village to teach and instruct Solas as they would a child of our people," Solas joined Serilda in his confusion, "for is he not like a child, unknowing of our ways, our people, seeking to learn and grow?"
Serilda smirked, "I know quite several other people who would gladly describe Solas as childlike, immature, ignorant, impish, arrogant, co-"
"Ulrich," Solas turned to the boy who remained leaning against the doorframe, waiting, "I believe you are to take me to meet Hilde."
"Sullen, petulant," Serilda continued with her descriptions as Solas followed the limping boy. When he glanced over his shoulder, he saw her eyes alight with mirth and her face bright with joy. His own mirrored her emotions as Solas replied with a wink and a smile before he followed Ulrich around another hut, and his view of Serilda was severed.