"There it is!"

Solas looked on, amused, as Andra's eyes were wide and excited while pulling him along towards a bustling market square that sat underneath connected stone arches, rushing over to a stall that matched the description of what Dallen had urged her to seek out when they anchored. It was definitely a small detour, but the old sailor had really talked this merchant up and her interest was piqued.

Even at this early time of night, the city was still awake. It was a bit overwhelming to take in—stalls surrounded by crates overflowing with produce and smaller sacks filled with spices; a wide variety of wines and silks; leather workers offering items of remarkable craftsmanship. Andra eyed these last things with wonder—they were much more impressive than anything her Dalish clan had been able to create. It was an array of color and smell. Unfamiliar but incredibly pleasant.

"Ah! New faces!" A slender woman called out from the stall Andra approached. "Here to taste the finest coffee in all of Antiva?"

Andra stared, amazed, "You read my mind."

The merchant laughed, "My dear, coffee is my specialty and you will find none better anywhere! It's what I am known for!"

Andra smiled, "You're certainly confident."

"Absolutely! I would never make such a claim if it weren't true."

"What makes it better than anyone else's?" Andra asked.

A sly smile crossed the merchant's face as she leaned over the waist high wall that served as a counter top between two stone pillars, the nearby torchlight casting a gold shimmer in her hair. She spoke softly, "My family has mastered the art of growing our own coffee beans over many years, my dear. They are best cultivated in high altitudes so that they don't grow too quickly or under too much heat. And this is very important so that they withstand being brewed at a high temperature better and produce a smoother drink."

Andra's wasn't a farmer, so she had no idea if any of that was true, but she was impressed nonetheless. Still, she made sure she gave nothing away in her expression. She knew how merchants worked and she didn't want to give this woman an in and think she could take advantage of her. "Then your coffee isn't actually Antivan?"

The merchant pulled back, standing up straight and speaking normally this time, "It most certainly is! It might not be grown here, but I sell it only here and I am a native Antivan!"

A snort sounded from off to the side and Andra and the merchant looked over to see a deeply tanned man looking on with contempt. "If your coffee is Antivan then I'm the queen of Ferelden!" He approached.

The merchant scowled, "Have you nothing better to do than hound me, Enzo?"

"I'm only here to give this girl a heads up, Madri," The man shot back, "After all, I'm surprised you haven't been run out for all your lies! It's not like anyone can even confirm your claim."

"I've never once lied to a customer," Madri said with disgust. "Nor have I ever poached business from another as you're trying to do now. Perhaps you should look in a mirror, Enzo. It's not my fault you're floundering after trying to sell that burnt garbage."

"It's ROASTED," Enzo spat, "How many times do I have to explain what roasted coffee is?!"

"I know what roasted coffee beans should taste like and it's not that charcoal you're trying to pass off in its place."

Enzo glared, "At least I sell a variety! People come to me because they have options! Unlike you who only offers a handful of flavors!"

Madri looked away, a bored expression on her face, "Then explain why you only sell locally and I get requests to send exports to nobles all over the world." She waived a hand dismissively.

Enzo's anger flared higher but he didn't know how to respond. Instead, he turned to Andra, "I can offer you real Antivan coffee! And in any flavor that best suits your pallet. Grown locally! I'll even give you a discount if you refuse to buy from here!"

"Oh please," Madri turned to face her rival once more, "If you have to make that kind of offer then you've already lost, Enzo. No merchant who knows their worth would reduce themselves to begging."

Andra looked on apologetically to the red faced man, "I'm sorry, but I did come here specifically. I'm not looking for anything else."

Madri grinned and laced her hands in front of her. No words, just a smug look of finality tossed at her rival. Enzo clenched his jaw as he turned and stormed away, sore in his loss and mumbling something about 'good for nothing women'.

Madri returned her full attention to Andra and Solas, "I'm terribly sorry you had to experience that. Enzo is... quite the entrepreneur and has been hounding me lately ever since I refused to partner with him. He could be much more successful if he just focused on quality over quantity, and I'm perfectly content selling my stock on my own. I truly feel no resentment towards him, but sometimes it's just fun to push his buttons." She laughed lightly before clasping her hands together, "But, back to business! What type of coffee would you like and how much?"

"Well, I'm no expert so surprise me with whatever is your favorite. And I'll take half a pound," Andra said, eager.

"Of course!" Madri took the payment from Andra and then began weighing coffee beans on a scale with a one pound weight on the other end. When the distribution was even she poured it all into a small sack, tied it off, and handed it over. "The extra is on the house," she smiled, "For standing up to Enzo—and a bribe to come back for more."

Andra was charmed, this merchant was good and knew how to reel people in. Despite the obvious pandering, she made a mental note to definitely come back on their return journey.

.

.

.

Over the next couple days, the Drylands proved brutal and Andra was grateful the merchant they bought their supplies from warned them to take more water than necessary. He might have just been trying to make a bigger sale but the extra resources was, without a doubt, invaluable. She was also grateful to have Solas along. His company was pleasant and she treasured his knowledge from his many years alone on the road. Without him, she mused that she wouldn't have been able to make it this far on her own. In fact, without any of her friends, she would most likely still be in the Free Marches. Especially since she wouldn't have left her clan again if Solas hadn't shown up.

If he hadn't removed her Vallaslin.

As the duo walked on in a comfortable silence, Andra stared at the ground and wondered what would have happened if the elf next to her had never come back into her life. Would she have allowed Calem to retake her heart? Would she have returned with him to his own clan as he had wanted? Absently, Andra rubbed her wrist. For the first time in many years, she was aware if its bareness. Of the lack of her half of the bracelet which she no longer had. Her heart ached as she remembered how she had hurt him. But she still believed it was for the best. One sharp pain to avoid all the rest. One harsh decision to help push him to move on.

A whisper carried over the wind to Andra's pointed ears and she stopped in her tracks to follow the sound with her eyes, looking to her side, then behind her. But it just seemed to dance about her, she couldn't tell where it was coming from. It didn't feel malicious, but a shiver still ran down her spine.

"Vhenan?"

Andra turned back to see Solas looking at her. "I... I heard something."

He asked her to elaborate but she couldn't. She didn't know what it was or if words had been said at all. Though, Solas hadn't seemed to hear anything so she reassured him that it was probably just the heat getting to her and maybe they should stop for a break while she collected herself. Solas agreed and they found a small rock outcropping to sit under that provided moderate protection from the elements.

Andra drank deeply from a waterskin and already felt better. This dry desert wasn't what she was used to. There was no water at all that she had seen. No healthy trees—just sad, twisted twigs. And the sun... It beat down on her worse than the Hissing Wastes. At least there had been shade. And an oasis!

"Thu ane?" Solas asked.

"Better," Andra smiled, but after a moment, the smile fell and she looked off into the distance. "I feel like the closer we get, the more anxious I feel."

"I hope it turns out to be worth all the effort," Solas added.

"Even if nothing is there and it was all a trick, we got to go on an adventure together. Just you and I. I'll definitely treasure that." She blushed, "Especially because... it's given me so much time to be alone with you."

Solas smiled, "I have enjoyed our time together, as well."

They were sitting close, and Andra seized the opportunity to lean over and press a hand to Solas' cheek, "Thank you for being here with me—for believing in me."

He placed his own hand on her cheek, looking deep into the silver of her eyes, "Emma lath, there is no where I would rather be."

She wished she could read his eyes better. She wanted to know if he really did feel that way.

Andra pulled him to her, pressing their lips in a kiss. Desire bloomed in her middle and she wanted nothing more in the moment than him. To hold him to her. To press their bodies against one another.

But there was that whisper again.

Andra pulled away from Solas, telling him she was sure this time that the sound wasn't in her head. He believed her but also didn't know how to help.

And again... there! This time she pinpointed a direction. It was coming from the north, where Arlathan forest sat. Andra gathered her things, telling Solas she was ready to keep going. He looked confused but she reassured him she was fine. She felt like she was being beckoned, and for the first time, she truly felt an intense determination down to her core. She needed to see this through. She no longer felt the option to walk away from her past if nothing turned up.

The week had only just begun and she would find that rune before its end.


ELVHEN USED:

Vhenan: "My heart"

Thu ane?: "How are you?"

Emma lath: "My love"

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.