"Man is not what he thinks he is, he is what he hides."

― André Malraux

Most days he spent in his cottage or in the forest near Haven. The Fade eluded him lately, perhaps because of the noises and the crowds. Haven became a shelter for many in only a few weeks. He started to miss their missions outside this irritating place.

He grabbed his cloak and closed the cottage door behind him just to be greeted by the gossips about their Blessed Herald of Andarste. Everyone was talking only about her. Whenever he wanted to avoid any new stories or comments, he was finding himself in the center of it, as if everyone were against him.

"She seems unfriendly, but when my husband was sick she delivered herbs and potions" he heard.

"It must be magic, I tell ya. Nobody looks that good being 30!" some lady seemed annoyed, "She is weird. A savage, dalish, I've heard."

They evaluated on her every move, every gesture, her clothes, her interactions with the inner circle of the inquisition. The gossips circulated each day in new ways, such as having a drink with Varric, or how in the next day, she spent an hour with her commander. News spread that perhaps the whole village is witness to a blossoming romance between the two.

It was tiring, even if he experienced it so many times before, maybe this is why it was so tiring. The unwanted déjà vu.

What a cynic, empty, and hopeless this age was.

He passed the small tavern taking his steps towards the main gate - a day before he found an interesting spot to clear his mind and study books delivered by Lady Ambassador. The woman had quite good contacts; still, he wished he could have access to better resources. His thoughts ventured to the Vir Dirthara.

"What do you mean I cannot leave Haven?" Lavellan's voice reached his ears, and he looked up at the Herald. Her voice polite and calm at the surface but by the signs of the body language and deminer, hands folded behind her back told him anything but of tension and a hint of defensiveness.

"I mean, you cannot leave alone to risk your life in search of one animal Herald" Cassandra explained slowly.

"Must I remind you, Seeker, I could easily change my appearance and leave Haven without you knowing of it?" the answer came quickly and smoothly. Solas slowed his steps just to observe this verbal exchange.

"You would..." Seeker gaze darkened but Lavellan ignored it.

"I would not. That is why I am asking you to give me permission to investigate the case of corrupted wolves" he could hear an unspoken plea in Herald's voice.

"I appreciate that but as I said, Herald" Seeker straightened her back, folding her hands behind her back in a similar manner as the Herald, face tense, unease in her eyes "You can't leave alone."

"Ah. I hear it somewhat different. I can't leave without you, Seeker. You have other matters which force you to stay in Haven for at least a week," Lavellan murmured, her gaze momentarily sliding past him to some distance, and it seems as if an idea struck her, as her gaze refocused onto him, pinning him.

The Seeker frowned and followed Herald's gaze, the woman opened her mouth, but Lavellan was quicker with a response "I suppose I can travel with Solas and Varric then. Will you agree, Cassandra?" Solas could recognize the purposeful use of Seeker's name, "We will report at every Inquisition's camp."

What a manipulative woman, he thought. He had mixed feelings about any excursions with her.

A long sigh escaped Seeker's mouth "Alright, Herald. Do as you must."

"Ma serannas. Ha'hren," her eyes found him once more, "when you can prepare yourself to depart?" a slight excitement in her gaze and the sudden smile on her face dazzled him for a short moment, the way it changed her features, softening it... he cleared his throat "In a few minutes, Herald."

His expression stayed polite and calm as she brushed past him, her steps light and quicker than ever before.


"We really are in the ass-end of nowhere now," Varric stated over the silence. Falherna chuckled reaching to her traveling bag, her features lightening up as she pulled up a bottle of what seemed to be Grey Whiskey.

"For you," she handed it to him, "Perhaps it will quiet down your complaints."

Varric chuckled, which transformed into genuine laughter, "Oh, Brighteyes, I wish it could be so simple.".

"You are not the only one wishing it," she murmured, scanning the road and trees. They walked in blissful silence for a while. She could hear Solas' bare feet ghosting over the ground.

Her thoughts drifted to their conversation from two weeks before. Since then, she did not seek him out because her mind was occupied with other matters; still, she longed to another chance to speak with him about the Fade. His input was interesting, to say at least. His voice was pleasant to her ear, the pace of his words fascinated her, reminding her nights under the stars when her father read her poetry. Hearing Solas speak left a similar impression in her memory.

"So, elf, did our Herald explained to you what kind of mess we are going to clean up today?" Varric said as he walked at Solas' side.

"She did not, Master Tethras." Falherna sent them two a quick glance.

"No need. Solas overheard my conversation with Seeker Pentaghast," she replied.

"Varric, you joined the Inquisition when seeker Pentaghast questioned you?" she accepted the change of a subject with relief.

"She was very insistent that I help." Varric chuckled, and she could hear he was a little surprised by Solas' question.

"Interesting." apostate murmured.

"What's interesting?" Varric sent him a curious glance, frowning a bit.

"It surprised me that an elven apostate is the one who joined the Inquisition voluntarily."

She observed him by the corner of her eye. He seemed relaxed, calm, resolute marching beside her, but she could tell there was some tension in his eyes.

"Nobody thanked you for that?" she asked quietly scanning his face. Was it the gratitude he was missing or perhaps he was so arrogant to point out his action?

The genuine roll of his laughter surprised her. "I do not seek gratitude, Herald."

"No?" she insisted without knowing why it was so important to get an honest answer from him.

"No."

"Understood." she murmured, "Still, in my opinion, it is very admirable. You decided to remain. Thank you, Solas." she sent him a soft smile.

There was something in his expression as he looked at her. Something different. Something she could not place. Before she could try it disappeared.

"It will be interesting to watch this fledgling Inquisition make its way. I will stay to see it. For now," he stated slowly, sending her a quick glance, "I am an apostate mage surrounded by Chantry forces, and unlike you, I do not have a divine mark protecting me. Cassandra has been accommodating, but you understand my caution."

"I do," she exhaled and shook her head, "You came here to help, Solas. I won't let them use that against you." she looked at him, straight into his eyes with this internal wish to convince him that nobody in Haven will suffer as long as she is there.

"How would you stop them?" the question pierced her heart. Solas' tone low, his expression severe and intense as if he really wanted to know the methods she would use.

"However I have to," she replied in the same manner.

The moment stretched out between them, staring at one another.

"Thank you." he was genuinely surprised.

They walked in silence for a time. She started to count the steps, staring at the trees, expressionless. One, two, three, four, five...

Thoughts in her head slowly changed their speed, finding their proper place and the order, the priorities were again clear for her.

"By the end of Hard in Hightown, almost every character is revealed as a spy or a traitor," she heard and smiled. She did not notice she left Varric and Solas behind till now, she tilted her head slightly to listen to their conversation. She would never guess Solas is the type of person who reads Varric's novels.

"Wait, you read my book?" Varric laughed, shocked.

"It was in the Inquisition library. Everyone but Donnen turned out to be in disguise. Is this common?" she could not chuckle.

"Are we still talking about books, or are you asking if everyone I know is a secret agent?"

"Are there many tricksters in dwarven literature?"

"A handful, but they're the exception. Mostly they're just honoring the ancestors. It's very dull stuff. Human literature? Now here's where you'll find the tricky, clever, really deceptive types."

"Curious." he really seemed interested.

"Not really. Dwarves write how they want things to be. Humans write to figure out how things are."

"The elven history has one of the biggest tricksters," she stated calmly guarding her tone.

"Here we go again, Brighteyes...," Varric laughed and sighed.

She smiled and carried on, not at all discouraged.

"In ancient times, only Fen'Harel could walk without fear among both our gods and the Forgotten Ones, for although he was kin to the gods of the People, the Forgotten Ones knew of his cunning ways and saw him as one of their own. And that is how Fen'Harel tricked them." she laughed loudly.

"I am sure you know all these dalish stories, Solas." she looked at him and found him frowning.

"Stories?" he asked with a calm voice, but she had the impression he was transfixed.

"What else would you call them?" while speaking, she drew a map formed her pouch and studied it for a while. Leliana's agent delivered it to her a day before with a marked location.

"Dalish called themselves the best hope for preserving the culture of "our People," "she continued not waiting for any response, throwing words and letting them hang in the air.

"Ah, our people. They use that phrase so casually. It should mean more... but the dalish have forgotten that. Among other things,"

Falherna scanned his face for a while, processing the words. Was it sadness in his voice? Hidden upon measured tone?

"Is it sadness in your voice that I am hearing, hahren?" her thought formed into words unexpectedly.

He sent her a quick glance "Perhaps, Herald," he said then fell in silence. She let him stay quiet, observing him with a corner of her eye. Suddenly she knew he will open his mouth and speak again. She came back to counting her steps anew.

"While they pass on stories," Falherna heard his voice when her counting reached three, "mangling details I walk the Fade. I have seen things they have not." Solas said quietly but fiercely.

"Hey Fal, do we need to march everywhere?" Varric looked at her over his shoulder, "I thought master Dennet's horses would be a better way to travel." he sighed, and she smiled.

"Tomorrow they will arrive,"

"Great," he murmured under his breath as he wiped his forehead with a sleeve.

"Whiner," Falherna chuckled slowly chewing.

"What you have there?" Varric looked at her with curiosity and a small smile.

"An apple. I know the answer already but do you want one?" she teased him.

"Nah, thanks," he kicked the rock on the road, and he brushed his hair.

"Solas?" she looked at the elf wondering if he was disappointed about interrupted conversation as much as she was, but he seemed distant and calm. Always so stoic, almost indifferent.

"Thank you, Herald. I am fine," he answered, and this time, he doesn't bother himself to look at her.


Fal leaned heavily on her staff, silently cursing their misfortune.

The pain grew hotly over her leg. A wolf's sharp claw had sliced through her armor, and she could feel blood spurt down her calf and onto her feet.

"Fenedhis!" she cursed as she sent an unrelenting fire into a wolf. The animal howled loudly. The pack moved, like a flock of birds, a wave, in one smooth move,

"An alpha," a whisper escaped her lips. A big, beautiful alpha male.

Such a waste, such a loss, she thought.

Falherna growled, and with a single sweep of her staff, she called the power of thunder paralyzing the wolves. Solas took the opportunity to lock them in a sheet of ice, freezing them in place while Varric finished them with a rain of arrows.

"We must move!" Solas screamed towards her. She nodded and started to sprint deeper and deeper into a cave. She could feel bones cracking under her feet, remnants of small animals. The den was more prominent and darker than a previous one.

Behind her back, she heard Varric's grunt and a twang that echoed through the walls of the cave. Solas caught up with her panting quietly.

"We're close," he stated what seemed obvious to her. Perhaps she was simply half-elf, but she had heightened senses, and she could recognize the quiet stomps of a creature that wasn't a wolf. Sudden scream spread throughout the entire cave, and Falherna inhaled deeply preparing herself.

"We kill the demon. If it's possible to spare the wolves do it," she whispered

They found a small pit hidden behind the rock, a great spot both to stay unseen and to observe the area.

"Fal..." Varric looked at her with a deep frown.

"Just demon," she insisted scanning the cave, counting wolves, regarding them carefully searching for a sign of Fen.

She glanced at the demon, stomping slowly amongst wolves, a lesser terror it was. They fought it not once before with success.

She sent a quick glance to Solas, and Varric giving them a nodding sing and she rosed slowly. The wolf on her left growled. Cold green eyes held hers. Green like the Breach, vacant and transparent.

"Now!" she screamed. The pack focused on her, the demon turned towards her screaming loudly. Gritting her teeth, she concentrated and sent a chain lighting to stop the screaming while Solas locked the beast with winter grasp. Varric waited for it, finishing the demon with his arrows.

"That wasn't hard..." he mumbled.

"Wait," she commanded, straightening her hand.

"Herald," Solas murmured, but she dismissed him with a small shook of the head.

"I know what I am doing." her voice remained amazingly calm. She maintained eye contact with the wolf and started to slowly back away, waiting, observing the fading green light in the animal's eyes.

"Back away slowly." one step.

"Don't turn your back." the second step.

"Look him in the eyes." third.

"He will not attack," fourth.

You are so beautiful, she thought, looking deep at steel eyes.

She smiled to herself when the wolf nonchalantly turned around and disappeared on the other side of the cave.

The others joined him.


"Brighteyes, that was insane," Varric's voice startled her back to reality.

"Was it?" she asked. She stared at the fire but watched Varric out of the corner of her eye. She had never seen him so concern before.

"Herald, it was risky" Solas added as he approached her, "Can I take a look at your leg?"

"Yes," her voice never changed, showed no emotion. And regardless of her choice of words, it was sometimes difficult to tell whether she was excited, bored, or utterly disinterested.

Varric shooked his head, sighing.

"They would not attack us, Storyteller. They were confused, but their behavior was rather a display to intimidate and scare off intruders," she kept her voice sincere, though she didn't want or need to justify herself.

Solas knelt in front of her, running his eyes along her body as if checking for injuries.

"Are you hurt anywhere else?" he looked up at her when she didn't answer.

She shook her head, scanning his face. His fingers circled her calf as healing magic bled into her skin, she winced as the soft trickle of magic strengthened.

His sleeves were rolled up to the elbows, revealing slim but muscular forearms. This time Falherna let her eyes slowly study the length of his forehead, ears, nose, staying longer on his eyes. He seemed tired, drained of energy.

He caught her staring at him, and when their eyes met, she held his gaze. She didn't care if he saw the concern. In fact, she wanted him to see it.

"The bards would love this one. Andraste's Herald and her brave companions perished by the corrupted wolves," Varric laughed interrupting the moment that spread between two mages.

The dwarf took a sip from a bottle she gave him earlier.

She moved to his side and said, "Are you all right?"

"Now I am," he sent her a smile lifting the bottle. She snorted and patted his shoulder.

"Are you all right, Solas?" she turned her gaze to the elf unfolding his bedroll, his head tilted slightly, so the only thing she could see was his profile.

"Yes, Herald" all he gave her was a short answer. Fair less than she expected but she was starting to accustom to it.

"We are all fine, Brighteyes," Varric choked, "The farmers can have a good night sleep. They are safe from the wolves." he mumbled as he turned over on his bedroll and closed his eyes "Goodnight, kids."

"I expect the wolves are also pleased to be freed from demon's control," Fal smiled hearing those words.

"I am sure they are," she murmured gazing at the fire unconsciously running her fingers along her calf.

"It will leave a scar," Solas stated casually, and she shook her head in answer. His sudden care seemed so illogical, she irritated him after all. Why did he bother himself with her scars?

"So? It will match the others," her voice sounded harsher than she intended. She cleared her throat and tried again, "It does not bother me."

She loosed her hair, unwrapping the leather strap, comb them with her fingers. Solas took off his coat and belt as he sat down on the wooden log, she discreetly observed him in his undershirt. He seemed leaner, taller, humble, and tired. His eyes met hers, the hair on her hands rose as if the air was filled with electricity. She felt it before, the first time when he took her hand and closed the rift. His eyes stirred up complex silt of emotions in her, feelings she'd rather have left settled.

Falherna turned her gaze to the trees waiting for her companion to fall asleep, but Solas just sit there in silence.

"Solas," she turned to him, tense as his name laid on her lips.

He looked at her "Lavellan," he answered with a low voice.

"Can I join you?"

"Please," he smiled, pointing a place next to him.

She got up throwing some pieces of wood into the bonfire and sat beside him but not too close.

"You're a somniari, am I correct?" she caught him by surprise.

"Yes, I am. It's interesting that you know about their existence."

"My father was interested in them," she smiled.

His mouth distracted her, so she focused on her hands.

"Will you tell me about your explorations of the Fade,?"

He looked pleasantly bewildered but hesitated, "I will if you answer one question."

She sighed quietly suspecting a question about her past, looks, lack of emotions; questions she heard before.

"Why were you given the name which is the anagram of "Fen'harel"? he looked her straight into the eyes.

Nobody asked about it before. Nobody was smart enough to get an idea of what her name really was. He impressed her.

He sat so close she could touch him, her heart was pounding in her chest, and she felt the urge to touch him.

"Tomorrow," she said with her usual manner.

"Tomorrow?" he arched his brow but seemed genuinely interested.

"The story is too long for tonight" she sent him a smile "Well, I wish you a good night," Falherna was ready to stand up and let him be, but his next words stopped her.

"Do you think I will not share my stories with you since you did not answer my question?" he smiled warmly.

"Yes. That was your condition," she chuckled and relaxed sipping water from her skewer. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and looked at Solas.

"I'll make an exception if you wish," he smiled weakly before his face fell to a more melancholic shape.

"Yes, please," she murmured, looking up at the sky and stars.

Solas looked into the fire "What would you like to hear about, Herald?"

"Old ruins," she answered, simply trying to hide a note of excitement in her voice and disappointment of the fact that he still called her "Herald."

"Ah, I found in the Korcari Wilds the humble cottage far removed from any of the simple tribesmen. The trees and weeds not reclaimed the home, nor did the chasind dare to come and steal the trinkets still remaining. It was empty, long abandoned but the world fear that she might return." he was narrating quietly, each word taking significant effort, his voice scraping against his throat. She could've been mistaken, but she heard a subtle warmth in his voice.

"Flemeth's cottage," she whispered. He said nothing, studying her silently for a moment.

"Your ability to sleep in those places is fascinating," she said, and she really meant it. Her father had the same ability, and it fascinated her too. She even felt jealousy when he was telling her specific stories. Stories about old gods, Arlathan or Fen'Harel.

Solas send her a smile "Thank you. It's not a common field of science, for obvious reasons. Not so flashy as throwing fire or lightning. The thrill of finding remnants of a thousand-year-old dream? I would not trade it for anything."

"I'd like to know more about you," she untucked two of the chess pieces from the velvet-lined bag and gave Solas one.

He took it silently, his jaw clenching tightly before he looked at her "Why?"

"There's no other motivation besides my will to know something about you, Solas," she studied him carefully speaking calmly as if he was a small child.

"I am sorry. With so much fear in the air... What would you know of me?" he seemed relaxed again, but something in him was off.

He is lying, she realized.

"What made you start studying the Fade?" she regained her composure quickly meeting Solas' gaze.

"I grew up in the village to the North. There was little to interest a young man, especially one gifted with magic. But as I slept, Spirits of the Fade showed me glimpses of wonders I had never imagined. I treasured my dreams. Being awake, out of the Fade, became troublesome."

"The same can be told about being in the Fade,"

He didn't respond, but she could feel him watching her, examining her response.

"Did spirits tried to tempt you?" she looked at him out of the corner of her eye digging her teeth in the last piece of cheese.

"No more than a brightly colored fruit is deliberately tempting you to eat it. I learned how to defend myself from more aggressive spirits and how to interact safely with the rest. I learned how to control my dreams with full consciousness. There was so much I wanted to explore," Solas' voice was dry, a smile playing at the corner of his mouth, his gaze was locked on her.

"I gather you didn't spend your entire life dreaming."

"No, eventually I was unable to find new areas in the Fade."

"Why?" she knew the answer to that question, asked years ago in a different place by a small girl who sat next to her father with wide and innocent eyes.

Truthfully she wanted Solas to continue, to hear his voice.

"Two reasons. First, the Fade reflects the world around it. Unless I traveled, I would never find anything new. Second, the Fade reflects and is limited by our imaginations. To find interesting areas, one must be interesting."

"You must be very interesting then."

Surprise flashed across his face, transforming his features.

Falherna's brows furrowed "Considering how many areas you visited, Solas. Is this why you joined the Inquisition?"

"I joined the Inquisition because we were all in terrible danger. If our enemies destroyed the world, I would have nowhere to lay my head while dreaming of the Fade."

"Ah, yes, we all view the world through the prism of our selfishness," she whispered, liking that hesitant delight in Solas' eyes every time she caught him off-guard.

"That is a surprising acknowledgment from one so young."

She laughed, "Of course for you, it is."

For a while, she studied his face, his mouth opening, and closing, mind searching for an answer. It was amusing, but she decided to change the subject.

"I wish you luck," she said, poking the fire with a stick.

"Thank you. In truth, I have enjoyed experiencing more of life to find more of the Fade." he smiled.

"How so?"

"You train your will to control magic and withstand possession. Your indomitable focus is an enjoyable side benefit."

She winced, What was that? Indomitable focus? What was he trying to do?

It wasn't what she expected from him.

"You have chosen a path whose steps you do not dislike because it leads to a destination you enjoy. As have I." she held his gaze, conflicted inside.

"True," she agreed "Indomitable focus?" the question was a simple result of her curiosity and intention to understand his words correctly. He spoke strangely, using metaphors and anachronisms.

"Presumably. I have yet to see it dominated. I imagine that the sight would be... fascinating." he said, his voice lowered.

She almost snorted but remained still and emotionless. Silence spread between them, there was an awkward tension in the look he gave her. She handed him the water, he nodded and took it. Their finger met, the mark awaken, vibrating. She sent him a curious gaze, his eyes were tight as he stared down at her mark.

As if nothing happened, she withdrew her hand clenching and unclenching it. A small puff of wind touched her cheeks, brushing nearby bushes. She looked that way. Solas stilled for a moment, eyes scanning, seemingly trying to sense something.

"Da'len," he whispered suddenly, "I am convinced your wolf found you."

The hair on the back of her neck rose as she scanned the dark.

She smiled, seeing him, her wolf hidden by a tree, looking straight into her eyes.