She left her stuff off to the side of the camp, taking care to stay as far from her companions as possible. A heavy silence hung in the air, the sound of the nearby lake a pleasant change from the howls of the wolves.

The heavy pounding of her heart echoed inside her head. The sounds blurred together, rising to a crescendo of noise that roared against her. She couldn't drag her eyes from the trees. The mark on her hand crackled, and she felt Solas' gaze at her neck. The unknown magic in her palm felt worst after closing another rift, killing another demon and this one in the cave was strong.

The thought of more fights was overbearing on her. Her body felt wrong—twitchy, bursting out of her skin. She felt defiled, marked by the blood that stained her clothes. With some effort, she closed her fist. She drew her hand back sighting as she reached for a fresh tunic and herbal soap. The smell of the corrupted wolves was intolerable.

She looked at the Seeker subtly gesture toward the lake. She feared her voice could betray her. Cassandra nodded and held her gaze, but didn't press the matter.

Falherna inhaled slowly as she formed a question in her head, she knew the answer already but she wanted someone else to say it out loud. She walked towards the Elvhen apostate.

"Solas?" her own voice sounded hoarse and strange. Steel blue eyes found her own and Falherna's heart skipped a bit "Herald, what can I do for you?" she counted to three and averted her gaze deliberately.

"I am presuming there can be more packs dominated by demons?"

"Yes," his simple answer cut her heart, but she stayed calm. She looked at Solas as she nodded noticing he seemed puzzled, his eyes scanned her face.

"Ma serannas" she thanked him and forced herself to take a step forward, then another one.


"Varrik, do you know where her wolf is now?" Varric looked at Cassandra with surprise. After three weeks they've spent together, the Seeker's attitude changed a bit even towards him.

He looked at the trees where Brighteyes has gone into a while ago. He wondered if she could still hear them. Crossing his short legs, he reached for his water skin and took a sip of fresh cold water.

"No, they went apart just before the Conclave. Brighteyes worried we would find him among this crazy pack. Luckily he wasn't there," he sighed, "He is safe. He can take care of himself quite well."

Cassandra went silent focusing on preparing her bedroll. Varric observed her for a while. She seemed uncomfortable folding it for the fourth time.

"She – She told Solas she is not dalish" Seeker sent him a quick glance.

"There is a question hidden in your words. Come on, Seeker, ask away," he laughed.

"Well, I wonder, if Herald is not dalish why she has a tattoo on her face," she asked finally sitting down on her bedroll.

"She lived among them for some time. However, most of her life she was traveling with her father, mostly forests" Varric answered simply looking at the nearby trees again "Seeker you should ask Fal for more detailed information. I am not the right source. She doesn't reveal much, not even to me."

Solas sat down, surveying the scene before him. The Dwarf seemed relaxed but his eyes were nervously observing the trees and bushes where Lavellan disappeared a few minutes ago. He took his backpack and opened it, searching for a soap. It was getting late and they were all covered with dust, wolves' blood, and demon's pieces.

"She should be back by now," Varric murmured.

"I will check on her, Master Thetras," Solas proposed quietly. He stood up before dwarf could stop him. He was worried the half-elf took this chance to flee.

He could not allow it.


He made his way to the Lake Luthias – as the - Herald ignored their proposition to head back to Dennet's house after taking care of the wolves. She was very persistent in pursuing some goal – he did not know what she was looking for but surely it was not her first time visiting the Hintherlands.

It was obvious she was looking for a wolf, her personal pet. Her pursuit after the animal could lead to an attempt to leave a group of strange people. Because that's what they were, strangers who found themselves in the wrong place and the wrong time. Strangers connected by an unfortunate event. This child they called "Herald" shared no personal history, no motivations or purpose besides one - to find an animal which could have been dead already. The sentiment was unusual for him although he held great respect for the creatures.

Solas pinched the bridge of his nose as his head throbbed behind his eyes. She is not the only one who doesn't reveal much, he thought and had to objectively admit he understood that. But in the end, there was no room for understanding, half-elf was abnormal and interesting, something to study considering circumstances. Still, her attitude, lack of any intentions to have a conversation baffled him. He was deep in his thoughts when the sound of water pulled him back to reality.

Lavellan sat in the water only in her tunic with her head bowed. Solas hesitated before he took another step towards her. Perhaps he should leave her at peace now when he was sure she was not injured or planning escape. Before he could decide she moved, and he noticed Lavellan's had her marked hand pressed to her ankle. His eyes narrowed as he was trying to understand the meaning of what he saw.

Solas moved and pushed the branch of a tree away.

"Solas" she greeted him, her voice hollow and void of emotion. She suddenly stood up. Her moves quick and firm.

"Forgive me, Herald, I did not mean to disturb you," he said waiting for her to turn around. He couldn't see her face, nor he could read anything from her voice. Lavellan cast a spell to dry her tunic and hair.

"Do not trouble yourself, Solas," she said as she was doing her pants. As discreetly as he could Solas looked at her ankles searching for a confirmation of his suspicion. However, he could not find anything besides old scars – one on her thigh and two small bites on her calf.

"Is everything alright, Herald?" he asked when she finally dressed. He found her looking at him. Her face was calm, expressionless.

"Yes. The mark sometimes awakes abruptly" she tilted her head not averting her gaze. She knew what he saw.

"Do you need my...?" he took another attempt to gather some information, but she interrupted him sending him a small smile.

"I have everything I need. If you will excuse me it was a long morning and I would like to return to camp," she explained. Solas knew by now that that was Lavellan's polite way of telling him to stop asking questions. If only the woman did not speak with him with this guarded countenance and measured voice. He wished he could encourage her to spill all her secrets.

He allowed himself one more glance at the half-elf and bowed courteously allowing her to take her to leave.

She brushed past him on her way back to the camp. Not missing the way she looked ahead of herself not meeting his gaze. Taking a deep breath and letting out a sigh of defeat. Another time then, he thought to himself. He resigned to himself to start bathing.

The water was slow-moving, clear, and so cold it made his bones ache. He left his clothes on a nearby rock and stepped into the water. The cold hurt but he relished it. He started to scrub himself clean forcing his own mind to abandoned thoughts of the Herald.

Still, even after he stepped out for the chill water, he could not stop thinking of her.


Falherna swallowed the thick beverage slowly and looked at Varric. He was trying hard to catch her attention.

"You obviously want to talk about something" she took a deep breath, like one that drinks a great draught after long thirst in barren places.

He laughed loudly "I cannot hide anything from you, Brighteyes."

"I am surprised you are still trying, Storyteller," she said while she took a bite of baked meat delivered by Dennet's wife.

"It has been few long hours since we fought those weird wolves, Fal," she looked at him feeling a heartache. She knew this conversation was coming and sooner or later Varric was going to ask her about the events, "Just tell me, are you alright."

Falherna had taken a moment to relish her supper before she answered. Her gaze drifted towards Cassandra who was focused on writing a letter and Solas who seemed deep into the lecture of a book. She sighed deciding to ignore the feeling of being exposed. She needed to accustom herself to it considering the last two weeks she spent with those three companions was only the beginning.

"I am, Varric," she hesitated, "I was looking for him... then, amongst those wolves," she continued, "The fear of him injured and dead..." Falherna went quiet for a while, "Now I am happy he was not there but sad at the same time we had to kill the wolves."

Varric looked at her, his eyes full of softness she saw only a few times before. Perhaps she reminded him about Hawke or Bianca. She knew how thoughtful and nice Varric was inside even if he tried to hide it. He nodded at her.

Words were unnecessary.


He cast himself on the ground and fell at once into sleep, for he had not slept for two days. The Fade called him, he longed for dreams and new/old memories.

After a few seconds, he heard the humming - steady and low. Solas opened his eyes as he searched for spirits but instead of spirits or fades from old stories, he found himself in someone's dream.

The surroundings were bright, detailed, the wind warm and delicate on his face. He took a step into the forest created from one's mind and looked around. Tall trees, sky clear and blue, the grass green with drops of morning dew. Humming called his attention again and he followed it. The closer he got the louder it seemed, sounded like a lullaby. The air whirled around him, he recognized the smell - rich, sweet with delicate wood notes. A red-haired woman lay on the ground near a lake with the wolf by her side. Her hand was stroking the animal's fur. She was humming a melody well-known to a wolf considering his reaction.

Solas hesitated, Herald did not welcome him here and again, against his intentions and good will, he was about to violate her privacy. The world seemed to narrow to that moment - to his decision to stay or leave. He waited as he was pondering about the consequences of his actions. Curiosity could lead to trouble.

"Ashalan" a man's voice startled him. At the corner of his eye, he caught sight of a tall elven man with long, thick hair, bright as wheat. Solas withdraw behind the nearest tree finding it impossible to resist the desire to observe the scene. The man passed Solas, and his blue eyes glittered in the sunlight. The resemblance was unmistakable.

The humming stopped and the girl's hand freeze as the animal head rose. She sat murmuring "Ha'hren." Solas' mind separated into two halves, one focusing on the whole scene and the other trying to convince himself to leave the dream. And then he saw her. The woman looked like the Herald but different - her hair was shorter, posture less tensed, face colored, eyes deprived of experience, pain and soft with youth. Lavellan stood up vigorously and strode towards her, un-doubtfully, father. She couldn't have been older than sixteen here - no scars on her cheek or forehead, her moves more relaxed and swift. He willed himself not to trail her moves too closely because that would be wrong. The idea to linger was wrong. He took a step back determined to wake, to leave this intimate memory but then Lavellan looked at him. It was impossible for her to see him or sense him but he could swear she looked directly at him.

"Rasha missed you, father," she smiled while their hands met in delicate welcoming. He kissed her forehead holding her hand close to his heart "Only Rasha? You wound me, Celia."

Lavellan's laugh was genuine and loud, and Solas realized with a small sting that it was the first time he had heard her laugh. The whole display was so painfully intimate. He was an uninvited witness to this unquestionably private moment. Seeing this side of Lavellan, so spirited and alive made his heart full. The wolf huffed in frustration and the man's mouth twitched into a smile.

"I missed you too Rasha," he said with soft voice kneeling beside wolf and stroking its fur.

"Thank you for taking care of her while I was gone," the trio moved towards the lake and their camp appeared suddenly in the dream. They sat down to share a meal. Their voices seemed distant, tuned out. Now the scene was muted, and Solas could only observe their moving mouth, Lavellan's hands forming a small crown from intertwined blueberries and leaves, her father sitting next to her drawing in the leather notebook, sharing some of the notes with her. They laughed and talked, looking like any elven pair.

Time passed, minutes, perhaps hours, he couldn't tell. The sky became darker, reddish, clouds swam through the sky faster, the wind grew stronger, shadows seemed unfriendly. Solas moved closer looking around. Grass under his bare feet changed the color - from green to brown, finally red. The wet sound caught his attention, and he looked down, his feet were sunk in blood.

"Fen'harel," a whisper light as a puff of air touched his ear, cheek, his mind, "Halani." another whisper, softer, more distant. His eyes winded when he rose his head. The dream shifted - the sky was a mass of roiling navy-blue that pulsed with energy. It stretched as far as Solas could see, just like the Breach. Except it was not contained to a single point. It was everything.

Lake became red, the wind rustled between the grass and branches of the trees. A quiet sob reached his ears. He took a few slow steps towards the lake, the source of the sound.

There he found it - a crown from intertwined blueberries and leaves, squashed, bloodied.


Before dawn was in the sky Solas woke up abruptly looking around.

Varric and Seeker were still deep in slumber, but the half-elven woman was standing, contemplating the darkness, thoughtful and silent in a windless night. She looked like a statue.

"Bad dream?" he heard. Her voice soft but hoarse like she was freshly awakened. She surprised him but before he could form any kind of response she spoke again "Fresh coffee is next to the fire."

He stretched his arms to take away the sourness in his shoulders.

"Thank you, Herald" he answered reaching for a cup. He turned towards Lavellan crossing his legs. He took a sip of a coffee which turned out to be delicious. He stared at the woman. The stiff, straight back, hands flexing open, then closed, then open again.

"You woke up quite abruptly" Lavellan stated quietly. A sudden lump formed in his throat. A lump that defied swallowing.

She spun toward him, the purple rings under her exhausted eyes. He wondered if she had slept at all since the Conclave.

His chest ached.

Pity?

Sympathy?

With deliberation, he got all his unexpected feelings back under control, ignoring the warmth in his cheeks and ears. He only hoped she didn't see it in the dark.

"Yes, it is uneasy to have a peaceful sleep in those conditions" Solas explained, with a dry smile.

"Ah," slowly she walked towards him sitting down next to the campfire. Her hands clenched over a mug, blue eyes scanning his face.

"You are accustomed to different conditions?" she queried and he tried not to frown at the note of curiosity in her voice.

"I've journeyed deep into Fade in ancient ruins and battlefields to see the dreams of lost civilizations."

"You do set wards, as I suspect." she went back to staring into the flames. Solas' brow lifted, surprised.

"I do. And if you leave food out for the giant spiders, they are usually content to live and let you leave."

"If you go that deep into the Fade, you might find something better left alone." she sent him a quick glance, her tone serious, tight. A long silence fell between them.

Watching her think interested him. He nad never really examined her face before. He never had a chance to truly see her face - usually hidden under her long hair or a hood. Now, with her hair tied into a ponytail, he could truly see her. Her face angular, but with a strong jaw that drew down to an elegant point. High cheekbones and forehead. Scars, evidence of earlier traumas, marked her skin - the one especially long and rugged crossed her cheek to the temple.

He broke the silence with a measured murmur "I take precautions to avoid possession. I have no wish to become a demon's tool." there must have been something interesting in his word because her expression shifted slightly as her eyes turned to him.

"You study ancient ruins then?" her voice was gentle, almost pensive.

"When I dream in such places, I go deep into the Fade. I can find memories no other living being has ever seen." he cleared his throat and took a small sip. The coffee was warm and soothed. "It is occasionally dangerous, yes, but more often it's just sad to see what has been lost."

"Battlefields as you mentioned?" the intensity of her gaze felt different somehow. For the past weeks, his eyes would lift occasionally to find her staring but never before he saw such sympathy in her eyes.

Solas kept his gaze down and concentrated on his own words.

"Any building strong enough to withstand the rigors of time has a history. Every battlefield is steeped in death. Both attract spirits. They press against the Veil, weakening the barrier between our worlds."

Too curious to hold back any longer, Solas pushed with a careful "Every great war has its heroes. They call you "Blessed hero send to save us all" I'm just curious what kind you'll be," he lifted his head, holding her gaze.

"I've no interest in being a hero. All I want is to find a way to seal this Breach" she stated quietly but fiercely "Although that is irrelevant" she shook her head.

"Pragmatic, but, yes, ultimately irrelevant" a direction of their conversation began to astonish him. He thought of her as someone too young to wield his magic or any kind of command but there were those moments when her maturity caught him off guard.

"Humans see me as a saint who is riding in on a shining steed to save the day" she growled under her breath as she shot a glare at him.

"I would have suggested a griffon, but sadly, they're extinct." he made an attempt to ease tension and it worked for a while, Lavellan gave him a quick sidelong glance, a soft smile surfacing.

"Posturing is necessary," he continued.

She tilted her head resting her light blue eyes on him again "One might say posturing is nothing else but a lie and manipulation" she sighed and her expression went black and unreadable "Still, it is irrelevant. Life is just a game and we are nothing more than pawns."

Her words stole his breath, how accurate they were.

"Good morning, Seeker" she greeted Cassandra who opened her eyes and looked at both of them "I made coffee".

He had been a fool to think her simple. She saw and heard too much. Shock fought with growing admiration and respect. The odd urge to flee almost took him. His pulse began to race.

Did she mean what she said? Such cynicism at one so young. Although he had no idea how old was she.


Ma serannas - my thanks

Ashalan - daughter

Rasha - dark cloud, lit. "dark, cloudy, foggy or misty

Ha'hren - old, wise, respected person

Ma halami - help me