About half way through their trek back to the settlement, Andra began thinking back to the morning. The Dalish girl had told her that her dream was just that: a dream. But there was something about how vivid it was, how well she remembered it still, that made her believe it was more than that. That Solas actually had visited her in the Fade.
"Calem?" Andra said softly, breaking the silence that had been stretching between them for the better part of an hour.
"Hm?"
She looked down at her feet, watching as small bugs dove into the shelter of the tree's roots, or skittered away from her steps, as she was passing, "I need a second opinion," She began, not quite sure how he was going to react. Calem might not have ever met Solas, but if he cared for her as much as he claimed, then he wasn't going to like that she was dreaming about him.
Elves felt emotion more passionately, and jealousy was particularly nasty. It didn't matter that Andra didn't feel the same way towards Calem, he understood that part. What did matter is that, for him, he would see this dream as her attention was somewhere else. He would see it as losing her.
Or maybe that was all hogwash and Andra was just overthinking things.
"I had a dream last night…" She began, a little unsure, "My friend from the Inquisition visited me, and it felt so real. He apologized for the fight we had all those months ago and then disappeared. I've never had a dream so vivid, and I'm wondering if it was more than that. If, maybe, he was actually there in the Fade with me."
Calem seemed to scoff a little but Andra pretended not to notice. "I don't think a dream can be more than what it is. Sometimes we just have really vivid dreams. I used to have them about my parents, after they died, almost every night. But that was probably just because I was thinking about them. My loss was fresh. Maybe it's something like that for you?" He forced out a smile. "Or maybe, it's your mind giving you your own closure, so that you can move on? Which is a good thing. Holding onto something that hurts you just brings more pain."
Andra pondered Calem's words in silence and said nothing else. His words made sense, but there was still a small part of her that wasn't sure. She always had a good intuition about things, and never had her gut steered her wrong.
And her gut was telling her what she already believed: Solas had been here.
.
.
.
Back at camp, Andra and Calem parted ways. Calem went to let the Keeper know that they were back, and Andra retreated to her tent to be alone.
The last half of their journey had been filled with only slightly awkward silence, but Andra had been turning over thoughts in her head, contemplating a decision: should she leave her clan? It had been some time since she had returned but in her heart, she had never planned on staying for good. She just needed to clear her head, and plenty of time had passed for that. She hadn't even planned on staying for more than a couple months, but here she was and already five had passed.
Having tasted the outside world, she couldn't turn back. There was nothing more exhilarating than exploration of the unknown, having adventures with no knowledge of where they would lead, danger be damned. Being back with her clan made her realize how simple a life amongst the Dalish was. Not that she didn't love it, and love her people, but she had experienced something greater and now there was no possibility that she could return to such a plain life.
The real issue, however, was: where would she go?
Andra had no interest in returning to the Inquisition unless it was to see her friends. There was no danger for her to fight, no cause to stand with against a threat; now was a time of peace for all of Theadas. She wanted to enjoy this newfound freedom that she had discovered. She wanted to find a new purpose.
Andra sat back on her haunches as she stared at her bed. There really was nowhere to go. Nothing to do. Her mood souring, she decided to go for a walk. Perhaps the fresh air of the forest would answer the emptiness inside her.
She was grateful that no one asked where she was off to, nor paid much attention to her, as she left the settlement. She had no desire to speak to anyone. Above that, she felt relief that she never caught sight of Calem. Whatever he was doing, she didn't want to see him right now. She was thankful they had worked out their differences, but she needed solitude; needed to sort the turmoil in her head.
.
The forest was calm in the impeding darkness, sky aflame with the fading mauve rays of the sun that had already set below the horizon. In the distance, the soft chirping of insects began their smooth crescendo into the night, mingling with the faint whispering of a warm breeze that wove its way through the trees.
Andra sighed, serene, content. She breathed in the smell of dew that danced with the fragrant flora, and gazed up at the twinkling stars that managed to pierce through the forest's canopy. When she had been a teenager, often had she danced in the moonlight. Though it felt like an eternity had passed since those carefree nights. Still, the memories bubbled up, and Andra smiled fondly in their remembrance.
"Vera em su tarasyl." She whispered to the dark, feeling the grass between the toes of her bare feet and the bark of a tree under her fingers, which sang with life and sent Andra's hand tingling. She still didn't know how it was that Elvhen seemed to pass her lips so easily now after all these years, as if something had awoken in her. In a way, it frightened her, but she also found it exciting. Though, she decided to keep it to herself for now. She didn't know why, but she felt no one would believe her, or that it might frighten them.
"Juveran na su tarasyl," A whisper that was not her own carried to her. Instinctively, her ears twitched at the barely audible words and she slunk into the darkness of a nearby tree's shadow. Her heart thrummed against her chest at the thought that she wasn't alone, but curiosity begged her to find out who it was.
She peeked her head out from the place she hid and scanned the darkness; she could make out nothing. Her eyes told her that she was alone, but her mind felt the itch of a presence nearby.
"Show yourself!" Andra called, feeling brave and safe in the arms of her childhood home. But no answer came, in any form. And somewhere in the back of her mind, she had an inkling that whoever it was, they were getting away.
Slowly at first, she started in the direction her instincts were telling her to go. Then she was jogging, scanning every inky shadow for a sign. Only after a minute or so did she see a faint blue glow ahead of her, weaving through the trees. She ran faster, trying to catch up, to see what it was. But when she did, the glow began moving faster too. Even so, Andra had gained ground and now could see that the blue came from a staff in the hands of a person silhouetted by the night.
They rounded a large tree, Andra followed. But as she came to the other side, she was met with emptiness. No glow, no rustling of leaves, and no person.
"Who are you?" She tried again, and her heart seemed to claw at her rib cage, wanting to escape as a sadness filled her when only silence replied. She didn't know why she felt that way, why tears stung her eyes as they threatened to fall. She wiped them away quickly, confused. But the intensity of the emotion gave away how she was feeling as she started sniffling. The sensation was odd, almost as if her body knew something that her mind didn't. She took a deep breath to calm herself, leaning against the tree she had just rounded and then sliding down until she was sitting.
"You would cry for me, Lethallan?" The soft, foreign whisper came to her again. She didn't stand up, she knew it was pointless to chase what she couldn't catch. But her breathing hitched when she recognized the familiarity of the tone.
Her head turned to the side as she saw the blue glow very close to her, meters away, illuminating a stoic face. "Solas?" She didn't know if she had said it, or if it had been the ghost of a word in her mind. But she did stand then.
The blue, which she now realized was a flame, dimmed slightly though Solas had not moved.
Andra took a hesitant step forward. The last time she had seen him in person had been months ago and it had ended on a sour note. However, she felt no anger or resentment for the elf in front of her any longer. "Is it really you?" She asked, "You're really here?" She wanted to reach out and touch him, feel his skin with her finger tips to make sure she wasn't dreaming this time.
"It is. I am." He answered flatly.
"Last night…" Andra halted, wrapping her arms around herself to stave off the cold that was only her own, "In my dream… you told me I would never see you again."
"I told you I would be gone by the time you woke up, and I was," Solas corrected. Despite his tone, he seemed relaxed.
"But you're back now?"
"I made it as far as the edge of this forest before I decided to turn around."
"Why?"
The silence stretched between the two, insects chirped to fill the void, Andra shivered against a warm wind. "I don't know," He finally said. This time, his face fell a little, looking a sullen as he stared into the silver eyes of the blonde before him.
"Irlahnash," Andra repeated, and when Solas gave her a quizzical look, she went on, "I wanted to say it in person, that way there's no doubt about its authenticity." But now she couldn't help herself—she was stepping closer, a foot apart as she reached up and cupped his face, rubbing a thumb over his cheek. "This is real…"
"Ahn ane gealem or?" He repeated, dimming the flame further until the blue glow that wrapped itself around the two was extinguished.
"Waking up," Andra admitted without hesitation. "I don't want this to be another dream." She paused, then, "When I came back here, after a while… all those things you said to me started to... set in. They clawed at me until everything I used to tell myself was gone and all that was left was your words. I... wanted to hate you, but I can't. Because a part of me believes you, but another part still wants to hold tight to what I know."
Even without the light of his magical flame, Andra's face was illuminated by the full moon that pierced through the leaves, casting jagged shapes below, and Solas couldn't keep the scoff from escaping his lips at the sight of her Vallaslin. She, of course, didn't understand.
"Do you hate me, Solas? Because I'm Dalish?" Her gaze fell away to the side where she stared at the puddles of light.
"I don't hate you," His reply was quick, "but I do resent the Dalish."
This time, she felt she could handle it, "Why?"
"There's no excuse for ignoring the truth. It's right in front of them, staring them in the face. All that's required is that they piece together the puzzle to uncover the whole picture. The answers, the brutally honest truth, is out there. The Dalish could reclaim what they once were. They could save the legacy of the Ancient Elves. They could know their history! But they choose not to. They choose to take what little they care to find and morph it into something else—because that's easier. And especially the Vallaslin…"
"They're to honor the gods—"
"They are slave markings!" Solas cut in, unable to stop himself. Though he wished he had when he saw the look on Andra's face.
And it was a shock to him too. Never had he known her to be so receptive, yet there she was, taking in his every word and really considering them this time. Perhaps it was the months she had been away, back here, after the end of it all.
After he had pushed her away.
"Forgive my tone, but when I look upon your people—when I look upon you—all I feel is anger. To see elves willingly brand themselves... To see them proud of it even..." He took a deep breath, "You don't see noble Dwarves willingly tattooing their faces with the brand of their casteless."
"That's different…"
"Is it? And what if their history was wiped out, their records gone, and their elders dead, and the next generation had to piece it all back together but they mistook the sign of the casteless as one of nobility? That their forefathers marked themselves this way to be closer to the Stone? Would it not be the same then?"
Andra was silent. She heard the truth ring in his words but it was still hard to swallow. And suddenly, as she stood there, she felt the heaviness of her Vallaslin, the ink pressed deep into her skin and permanent. She felt its implications and the shame that accompanied. Because for the first time, she truly believed him.
"So my face, these markings… it's just something else we got wrong?" Her voice cracked but she hoped it wouldn't carry to his ears.
Solas placed a hand on her shoulder then, "It's not your fault. How could you have known?"
It was her turn to scoff, "You've been telling me all this time that the truth was right there in front of us. So how could we not have known?!"
"I would say to chalk it up to human nature, but…" He let the sentence hang there, knowing she would understand.
Andra laughed, "I guess we're not so different."
A quietness stretched out over several moments. Andra pondered the new information she had just received and Solas seemed to be mulling something over himself as he toed at the ground. But when the silence was unbearable, he looked back up at the blonde before him and determination was set in his blue eyes.
"I could remove the Vallaslin."
At first, Andra didn't understand. It was more than simple ink that had been imprinted upon her face, it was blood writing. But then the weight of his words settled into her mind and replaced her confusion with disbelief. "You can… remove it?"
"Yes, if that is what you want."
"If what you say is true, about the Vallaslin, then I would want it removed. The Dalish are not slaves, we're good people, just… ignorant at times, I suppose."
Solas stood but inches away from Andra as he smiled. His hand began to glow then, wrapped in a brilliant blue fire as he ran them, hovering, over her face. She felt no burning sensation, but rather a tingle as the fire spread across the lines on her features, eating away at the ink until it was only her skin that lay beneath his hands. She felt a strange longing under his touch, and she reveled in the small moment they were sharing.
When she opened her eyes, he was staring at her, and she felt heat rise to her cheeks. The air was thick with an emotional electricity and Andra had the odd desire to want to be in Solas' arms, though she knew that was absurd. He had erased a tattoo, it wasn't a proposal.
"Such a beautiful face to lie beneath such crude markings." And his words only thickened the tension she was feeling. She hoped it didn't show.
"Thank you." And she meant it.
"Think of it as a gift, to make up for all the times I hurt you." Then he seemed to straighten and grip his staff more tightly as if getting ready to leave, "Dar'atisha."
"You're going?"
"There is much for me to do."
Andra lifted a hand, as if to grab his shirt to stop him but she halted about half way when she realized what she was doing, and curled her arm into her chest. "Can you not stay?"
"There's no reason for me to be here other than to see you."
"And that's not enough?"
Somewhere in Solas' heart, he felt the same pull towards the girl in front of him, he had felt this feeling for a long time. He'd known her over a year, and they had become quite close in the Inquisition, despite their differences.
Andra had been his dearest friend, always his listening ear even if she didn't want to hear what he had to say. She put up with him, like no one else would, nor had, and he appreciated her more than he would ever say. But therein lied the problem: he didn't want to get close to anyone only to hurt them in the end. Andra most of all. Because he would let nothing stand between him and his goal.
"You should get back to your clan." He said, finally.
"Will I see you again?"
"I don't know."
Her shoulders slumped at his words but she knew she wouldn't get anywhere arguing with him or pleading. "Sal sura."
He nodded at her, "Sule melan'an."
Andra stared at his departing form until he was lost from sight and she was alone, before she even thought about turning in the other direction to make it back to her settlement. And even then, her feet carried her all the way to her tent without her even realizing it, her mind in other places. Despite his going, she felt a welcome happiness at having seen Solas again. And especially that there were no hard feelings between them.
It wasn't until she had stripped to her smalls that she realized the ramifications of her decision. Her Vallaslin was gone, and everyone in the camp would notice.
ELVHEN USED:
Vera em su tarasyl: "Take me to the sky"
Juveran na su tarasyl: "I will take you to the sky"
Irlahnash: "Forgiveness" or "Forgiven"
Ahn ane gealem or?: "What are you scared of?"
Dar'atisha: "Go in peace"
Sal sura: "Visit me again"
Sule melan'an: "Until then"
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.
