Whatever Andra had been expecting, this was not it.

It had been a long journey, over a month on the road. Traveling from the Ashihari settlement in the Free Marches to Kirkwall, gaining passage on a merchant ship to cross the Waking Sea to enter Ferelden, then west to the Dales, and finally south until they reached the Wilds—and the Temple of Mythal.

A part of Andra expected to see Red Templars jumping out at her, trying to slow her journey down—but there was nothing. Corypheus was dead and all of Theadas was calm for once. At least, that's how it appeared on the surface. There was still danger. The Deep Roads were still plagued with darkspawn they would never be rid of; there were still criminals and bandits on the loose; and tension would probably always exist between the Templars and Mages—although the circumstances were much more bearable now.

But what really affected Andra, once they had reached the Temple of Mythal, was that they had found it empty.

There was no sign of the elves that once dwelled here, nor was Abelas anywhere to be seen. Andra walked the dark, damp halls in search of clues. She examined runes, murals, occasionally found a scrap of paper that the Inquisition had not taken, but the parchments held only histories she was not searching for.

Andra reached the empty bowl that once had been the Well of Sorrows, taken by the Inquisitor. She sat on one of the steps that led down into its bottom and rested her elbows on her knees, her head in her hands.

Never had she felt more frustrated than she did now. Even all the fighting that had gone on with her and Solas did not compare. She felt teased and cheated, like dangling a piece of meat in front of a wolf but never giving it to them. The Keeper's words burned into her mind, but now she had no way of proving their validity.

Solas sat next to her, staring at the vertical length of his staff as he twisted it in his hands. "It seems we have come all this way for nothing."

Andra's fingers curled into her hair as she pressed her face harder into her palms, recoiling from the truth of her situation. She felt as though her entire world was crumbling around her. Finding out that the Ashihari had whisked her away from the Arbor Wilds, then moved up to the Free Marches—and everything that that implied—it was all too much for her to handle all at once. And here at the Temple, where she had sought answers, she found none.

"Ane rahn'sasha tel'varem eman in min tiralas…" Andra's words were muffled by her hands but Solas heard them all the same.

He smiled at her admission, "If you want, I know where you might find what you're looking for."

Andra lifted her head, "What do you mean?"

His soft smile turned into a smirk, then. "Vira i've'an min'nydha, adys vhella na tamahn."

"Do you mean the Fade? I'm no mage, Solas, I don't know how to control my dreams."

"You don't need to be able to control your dreams," He stated plainly, standing and offering her his hand to help her up. Andra hesitantly took it and he pulled her to her feet. "Let's set up camp here. It's late and we both need rest."

Andra was left confused as she followed Solas back into the heart of the Temple, where they settled into one of the rooms that Abelas and the rest of the elves had preserved—and the Inquisitor had used to sneak around all of the fighting to reach the Well of Sorrows more quickly.

To her side, a mural winked at her, bathed in the warm glow of a torch Solas had lit. She found herself enthralled by the weathered, golden sight of a wolf; the artistic depiction of Fen'Harel.

"I always wonder if he regrets locking the other gods away. Loneliness can be awfully crippling," Andra said softly, prying her gaze away with some difficulty. Solas eyed her curiously but said nothing. A strange emotion passed over his features, though Andra was not quick enough to recognize it. Then, Solas' usual mask fell back in place. He was calm, collected—utterly sure of himself once more.

Night descended upon them. Outside of their little room, Andra saw only darkness. It flickered and waved at the edges of the torch's reach, wanting to gain purchase into the room but unable to. Andra briefly remembered the Lost Temple of Dirthamen, in Orlais, and a slight fear built in her stomach at the thought of demons roaming the halls around her. Solas noticed and was quick to reassure her.

"I doubt that any spirits or demons will trouble us, but I have placed wards around the room just in case. Do not fret, Da'lath'in." Andra's face heated at the endearment. It wasn't anything personal, but coming from Solas, it meant everything.

As they settled down, blankets spread out close to each other to try and stave the cold from seeping into their bodies, Andra rested on her side and stared at the figure beside her. Solas was lying on his back, staring up at the dark ceiling above them, watching as the torch cast dancing shadows about the room.

Andra felt the weight of weariness press down upon her. She hadn't realized how tired she was until just now, with her body still and her muscles relaxing. It had been a long journey to reach this place. Though, despite the fatigue, she was afraid of waking up in the morning and finding herself alone, even knowing that Solas would never do something like that to her. He wouldn't abandon her like that.

Her mind circled these thoughts as she began drifting, toing the line between waking and dreaming. After a few moments passed, Andra gave in and shut her eyes, softly whispering, "On nydha, 'Ma'vhen'an'ara."

Solas quickly turned his head towards the girl at his side, but noticed she was already asleep. He chuckled to himself, she no doubt didn't know what she had just said. Regardless, the endearment warmed his heart.

He rolled his side then, facing her with his whole body, and let his eyes slide over the features of her face. She truly was more beautiful without the crude markings of the Vallaslin. Tenderly, he reached out a hand and tucked a stray strand of blonde hair behind her pointed ears. "Son era, Arasha." Then he, too, closed his eyes and allowed sleep to spirit him away.

.

.

.

The Fade swam with a hazy vision of the Temple of Mythal. Andra found herself dreaming of the last time she had been here, with the Inquisition. She watched as Corypheus died and then resurrected himself. The Inquisitor, Morrigan, and the rest of the traveling party watched on in horror before running away, barely escaping behind the large, magical doors as they shut behind them.

And then Andra was alone, staring at the first puzzle that allowed access into the Temple. She gazed down at the intricate designs of the squares, watching as—when she stepped on them—they glowed a brilliant blue and hummed beneath her feet. She walked her way around the small platform until all the squares were lit and then died with a sharp, musical note. The great doors at the top of the stairs that led into the rest of the Temple clicked and swung open on their own.

Andra entered, but was not met with what she expected.

On the other side of the doors, a strange room she hadn't seen stretched before her and the air was unusually quiet. Then a scream of a woman came from behind her, and Andra turned to see a female elf running in her direction and bleeding from her middle.

The elf ran, limping, right past and tumbled down the steps that led into the room. She did not have the strength to pick herself up. Instead, she cried out to the stillness, "Ara da'ean!" She repeated this until her voice cracked and eventually she bled out and died. Alone.

Andra could not move her legs, but managed to look over her shoulder to see that there was fighting in the hall at her back, a room that had not been behind her before. The familiar twang of an arrow shot past her, horizontally, across her line of sight. She heard the ringing of swords as they crashed together. In the middle of the hall stood a male elf desperately trying to fight off several human attackers. She recognized none of them.

The elf was outnumbered and soon grew too weak to ward off the assaults. His sword was knocked from his hands and he clutched at his bleeding arm as a blade fell into his shoulder. A cry of pain rang out and Andra began weeping without knowing why.

The elf collapsed to the ground and the human ran on ahead, unfazed by the murder they just committed. Andra found herself pulling away from the sight, turning her head back in front of her. The strange room was now gone, as was the woman. Instead, Andra was looking at the humans who ran into an ambush of the elves that lived in the Temple. She recognized Abelas as he signaled for the archers to unleash their volley. The small band of human intruders fell helplessly under the piercing rain and all perished beneath the arrows. Andra felt a twinge of relief at knowing that these horrible men had not lived to inflict more pain—to murder more people.

Then the vision of the Temple fell away, and the Arbor Wilds swam in front of her—though Andra could still see the tall ruins looming over the tops of the trees, far in front of her. It was not this that grabbed her attention, though.

Several paces away, between the trees and moving among the flora, Andra spotted a young elf; barely a child. The babe was crying quietly behind a bush, nearly hidden from sight. Andra immediately recognized the stark platinum of the child's hair and the brilliant silver of her eyes.

It was her.

The vision steadied and the child disappeared as a hand lay itself on Andra's shoulder. She turned to see Solas, standing at her side. He offered a smile, and she realized that all of this had been a dream, and also that he had entered hers. She smiled back at him and wiped the tears from her eyes, sniffling.

In Elvhen, he spoke: "I had hoped we would be able to break you in a bit slower… But it seems your own subconscious had a will of its own. I'm quite impressed, actually."

In Elvhen, Andra replied: "What do you mean? And who is 'we'?"

Solas nodded, realizing he was getting ahead of himself. He lowered his hand from her shoulder and pressed gently at the small of her back, urging her to walk with him. She did so, realizing that her legs were no longer paralyzed in place as they had been.

"I didn't mean to take so long, but I was looking for a certain spirit. I'm surprised that there were so few here, but I suspect that this has something to do with how the Inquisitor took the power from the Well," He said. Eventually, the duo entered a small clearing, and this is where they stopped. Solas gestured to Andra's right and she was met with a captivating blue glow, emanating from a floating form. Despite being startled and having an instinctual fear to back away, Andra remained calm. There was something soothing about the spirit, comforting even.

The being spoke in Elvhen as well: "It has been a long time since our last meeting, da'ean."

The nickname seemed to strike a chord with Andra, though she knew not why. "We've met before?"

The spirit's glow grew brighter, briefly, before returning to normal. "A very long time ago. It is no surprise that you do not remember."

"Was this when I used to live here?" The blonde girl asked cautiously. Her expectations were very low, she feared getting her hopes up and being disappointed. The spirit would tell her that she never lived here and Andra would learn just how untrustworthy the Ashihari's Keeper's words were.

But that was not what happened, "It is my fault that you were taken from your refuge, but I knew a life with the Dalish would be safer for you."

"What do you mean?" Suddenly, Andra found herself unable to contain her questions. She wanted to know everything. "The visions I saw… A woman who bled out on the stairs—"

"Your mother," the spirit spoke.

"She called out a name… Ara da'ean."

"Her endearment for you, her sweet daughter."

"And a man, he was cut down in the hall…" She already knew the answer, but she needed it confirmed.

"Your father."

"And the humans? What were they doing there?"

"Intruders are not so strange at the Temple of Mythal," the spirit began, the luminance of its glow pulsing faintly as it spoke, "But these ones had been quite secretive. They snuck in during the night. Abelas had concluded later that they must have been highly trained for infiltration, but no reason for their presence was ever discovered. They killed a dozen elves that night, your parents included. It was thought that the humans had been trying to capture the Temple, turn it into a safe haven for whatever group they had been a part of. A failed mission when they entered Abelas' ambush, though a few had been allowed to escape to spread word to stay away."

"And you… saved me?" It was a little ridiculous. Andra saw no way a spirit, a creature of the Fade, could have helped her. Especially when she was no mage and had never been able to see Fade creatures while awake. Unless she was encountering someone possessed or an Abomination.

"I warned you of the danger I saw coming, and guided you in your sleep out into the Wilds, where I knew a Dalish clan was roaming. Had you been awake at the time, your fate would have been much different."

"You expect me to believe that I sleepwalked out of the Temple and no one saw me?"

"I am very old, child," The spirit explained, "I have roamed the halls of Mythal's Temple since my existence began and I know them well. You are not the first person I have saved from death."

Andra pondered this, looking over at Solas who seemed unfazed by this new knowledge. "Did…" she stopped, trying to think of how to put her question into words. "You said…'your refuge'. What does that mean?"

"You did not always live here. I know not of your origin, only that your parents had a look of being on the road for many years. They looked wearied beyond their years and desperate. When they came to the temple, they pleaded to stay. They had nowhere else to go. They had shown respect to Mythal when entering the Temple, and Abelas had taken pity on them. Your stay only lasted a few months before the intruders broke in. Abelas was furious. In the end, however, it was concluded you had been killed as well, or at the very least, you had been taken away by one of the humans. And the Sentinels of Mythal are bound by duty, they could not have gone after you." The spirit then asked, "Did you not notice the look in Abelas' eyes when he saw you again and questioned it?"

"He never mentioned anything…" Andra's voice was quiet as a faint resentment built inside her.

"There were more pressing concerns. The Rift, Corypheus, the Well of Sorrows."

Andra sat down in the grass, tugging at the green blades. This was all more than she could have ever hoped for. She stared hard at the ground as she watched the familiar sway of the Fade.

"I am so pleased to know that you are safe," The spirit said, breaking the silence. "And even more so that we got to meet again."

Andra looked up, but the spirit was gone. Only Solas remained. He looked down at her, an understanding in his eyes, but said nothing. It was a comforting quietness and Andra just basked in the closeness of her dear companion. She was happy he had agreed to come with her. She was happy that it was him and not Calem. Her old friend would not have understood, and worse, he would have made a huge stink out of it all. More than that, he could not have given her this meeting.

"Ma serannas," She whispered. And then the Fade began turning even more hazy, the vision of the Arbor Wilds swaying like a tree as she began to wake. "Ma ny lasal revas su em."

Solas smiled at her.


ELVHEN USED:

Ane rahn'sasha tel'varem eman in min tiralas: "You are all I have left in this world."

Vira i've'an min'nydha, adys vhella na tamahn: "Walk the beyond tonight, I shall meet you there."

Da'lath'in: "Little heart" (An endearment used to describe someone who is emotional, carries their heart on their sleeve, is very empathetic, or very sympathetic to the plights of others. Typically used to describe a young person, but can be used for people of all ages if they fit the description.)

On nydha, 'Ma'vhen'an'ara: "Good night, my heart's desire"

Son era, Arasha: "Sleep well/Dream well, my happiness."

Ara da'ean: "My little bird"

Da'ean: "Little bird"

Ma serannas: "Thank you" / "My thanks"

Ma ny lasal revas su em: "You have given freedom to me."