Translations at the end.

Gifts and Questions

One more night. There was only one idle night remaining. Tonight - I slept in my tent. Tomorrow morning, we would arrive in Cumberland, parade our way through the city, and accept Fiona's hospitality at the College of Enchanters.

Then, of course, there would be a reception in which I would greet endless rounds of dignitaries, distracting everyone while Harding and a few of her people slipped out to do real work. But in the evening I would have a chance to do something that felt real and tangible, too, as I sought both Qunari and a monster spider.

"Say you'll wait until Sera arrives?" Dorian requested plaintively, recalling me from my - admittedly rather fond - thoughts about how soon I would be allowed to do a little adventuring.

"I absolutely will not," I answered. "We don't even know for certain that she's coming. If she is, Sera would physically restrain me before allowing me to enter the Fade - or even to ask someone about doing it. And besides, the matter of the Qunari is somewhat pressing. Making contact might help solve any number of problems."

"Or add more," Dorian muttered.

"If it does, they're problems that already exist, but that we currently have no information about," I told him - or perhaps reminded him. He should have known it already, and probably did if he had given it any thought. "What does Bull think?"

"How would I know?" Dorian asked coyly.

"I'm not asking about your channels for communication - I'm just letting you know that I know you have them. I don't have any ravens trained for Bull," I grumbled. "So tell me what he thinks."

Dorian sighed. "He says...for the Ben-Hassrath to send in Qunari instead of Viddathari, Qunari agents had to have already been nearer, and something had to have scared them," Dorian told me grudgingly. "Assuming it was the Ben-Hassrath...which he also thinks is a fairly good assumption."

That explained why Dorian hadn't wanted to tell me - it just reinforced how important it was that I get to work on the puzzle.

"Ma serannas," I told Dorian anyway. He was helping, after all - even if he didn't want to.

"Please don't get yourself killed. Consider how badly it would reflect on me, after helping you and keeping your secrets," he requested. "I assume your demon is still involved."

"It is, and it's definitely maneuvering me to physically enter the Fade," I answered. "I am, however, becoming more and more certain it won't be able to trick me. It looks like Solas, now, speaks like him, tries to act like him - but there's just something off. It may make me long for the real person, but I'm not tempted to pretend that's what it is. It's repellent."

"Yes...that is somewhat comforting, considering its dominant trait is probably desire," Dorian allowed. "I still wish you wouldn't, and barring that, I wish I were there with you, and barring that, I wish you would wait for Sera."

"I'm planning to take at least one of Harding's scouts and one of Fiona's mages with me nearly everywhere. I will try not to face Latha alone, as long as circumstances permit, and that's the best I can offer," I told him.

"Well - that is actually more than I expected, so consider me somewhat mollified," he replied.

"Done," I agreed. "And thank you for not telling Leliana."

"You know there's a good chance she knows anyway," he pointed out.

"Well, if she does, then she tacitly supports what I'm trying to do - and that's good enough for me," I responded.

I didn't tell Dorian that Latha was trying to help me with the Qunari or spider investigation - or both - because a demon being helpful was precisely the opposite of comforting. But I was curious to hear what Latha had to say when I entered the Fade after bidding Dorian a good night. I was very near Cumberland now, and so it might have that information it had promised me.

Tonight Latha was outwardly calm, yet bubbling with un-Solas-like excitement beneath the surface. Not that Solas never became excited - but he didn't become excited about placing me in danger, and when he did find something to excite him, he didn't hide it as well as Latha was hiding it tonight. Odd, now that I thought of it - Latha and Solas both had complex, layered motivations, and Latha was attempting to hide its precise motives in much the way Solas once had. Yet it was exactly Latha's relative success in doing so that made me distrust it instinctively. It had been Solas's inability to lie about his feelings that had led me to trust him, even when I knew he wasn't telling me everything.

Ha - well, that made me sound like a fool, but I had very few regrets. Given the choice, I would trust Solas again, and again, and again, and every time I would hope that this time my trust would help him understand he could be worthy of it.

Without anyone to believe the best of him, I very much feared he might convince himself to believe the worst - and the entire world would suffer for it.

Besides, for all the pain that he had caused me, he had also given me something precious - priceless, really. Myself. Watching him be exactly who he was through everything, no matter how much more convenient it might have sometimes been to be someone else, had taught me how to do something similar - except with more tact. Whether that was because I simply had more tact, or whether I had learned to chart paths that let me feel true to myself without feeling the need to let everyone else know who that was all the time - I wasn't certain. Either way, the lesson had been essential, and I owed it to him.

I pulled myself loose from my reflections. Latha clearly had news to share tonight, so I asked what it had learned.

"We ought to walk - to try to walk - as I tell you," it replied.

I fixed my destination, Solas, in my mind, and we began walking, though every step felt like I was attempting to scale a cliff without using my hands. With a headwind. And as if that weren't enough, ground I thought I had moved past seemed to reappear beneath my feet, robbing me of at least some of the distance I ought to have been traveling with each step forward.

It was, in short, extremely frustrating, and I was actually glad to have Latha there to distract me from how little progress I was making.

"What do you know of magical constructs?" Latha asked.

"Very little," I replied. Dorian had mentioned something about them at various points in our association, hadn't he? They were a problem in Tevinter, where mages had had no oversight for generations, and performed all sorts of highly inadvisable experiments.

"The spider you will seek has not already been caught because it isn't a spider, at least not any longer. It guards its nest and I cannot see it clearly," the spirit explained, preempting at least some of my questions, "but something has twisted it - purposefully or not - and it now has an intelligence greater than that of a spider, as well as some other abilities. It - may also be tied to the Qunari, somehow," the spirit said. "I cannot study it, but it wasn't created in Cumberland - it was drawn here. There are echoes in the Fade of Qunari concern over it, but nothing clearer."

"This is useful information," I admitted, even though it wasn't pleasant information. "I don't suppose you have a location on its nest?" I asked..

"I-" Latha furrowed its brow. "It has been drinking from the poisoned wells, even now that they have boarded up. That is the most I know."

Interesting. Did the spider gain strength from the poison - perhaps red lyrium - or was it the spider that had poisoned the water to begin with? "Probably underground, then," I guessed. "I will have to ask Fiona about sewers and natural caves under the city and its surrounding area." I took a breath. "Enaste. This is - actually a lot to start with."

"Sathem, vhenan," Latha replied, reminding me why I detested it so much.

I turned to see how far I had come, as much to dismiss Latha from my thoughts as from curiosity, and groaned. It was worse than I thought - the memory-monument from the night before was so close, I wouldn't even be able to fully stretch out my arm before touching it.

"You unfortunately made no progress while we were speaking," Latha informed me. "I fear you will need your full attention to progress at all tonight."

I took a breath. I didn't imagine reaching Solas would be easy, even once I was physically in the Fade, so it was still essential that I get as close as possible now. Very well, then, if Solas needed my full attention, he would have it. I would show him just how powerful my full attention could be.

"Ane mahn?" I whisper, the wind playing about Skyhold's towers snatching the words from my lips and scattering them through the night. I want to believe that the words will find him in some way, but I don't believe it. They just feel lost. Like me.

There were so many toasts raised to me tonight in the great hall that, in spite of the care I took to merely sip at whatever was handed to me, I am tipsy. I retreated here after I made a circuit of the room and when I could no longer pretend my eyes weren't searching for the one face that was missing. Solas's face. I know he shouldn't be so important. I know he ended things weeks ago. I know he only ever promised to remain through the end of this threat - and he kept that promise.

I still don't know what drove him to end things - but I have reached the tentative conclusion that it wasn't because he didn't care for me. He still refers - referred - to me by vhenan or arasha in unguarded moments, and the few times he forgot not to look at me and I caught him at it - well, "longing" and "misery" are nearly worthless for capturing the heartache evident in his face.

And then, of course…

I want you to know that what we had was real.

Words I still don't understand, and the finality of them tears at me - but they are a reassurance that I didn't imagine or misinterpret those months.

My balcony is not, perhaps, the best place to contemplate life choices when one is tipsy. The distance between me and the ground makes me feel even dizzier than I already did, and the distances between me and the outer towers seem to readjust slightly in time with my pulse and whenever I blink, which also makes me queasy. But dizzy and queasy are preferable to the grief that attempts to split me apart any time I try to turn my attention elsewhere.

I take a few breaths of the frigid air. I'm not dressed for this, but unlike the last time I retreated into the cold to freeze out misery, there will be no one to come find me, to place a cloak around my shoulders, to tell me things aren't as bad as I think they are.

My hand flies to my mouth as the first sob constricts my chest. I am not truly alone anywhere beyond the walls of my chamber, and sound carries easily outdoors, bouncing from towers, walls, and mountain faces. That same bouncing quality would admittedly make it hard to trace back to me - but still. I am the Inquisitor. I can't be seen sobbing on my balcony directly after defeating the immortal darkspawn that ripped open the sky. It would, at best, cause a panic.

I try to slow my breathing, steady my heaving chest, stem the tears flooding my eyes, but it's no use. Either two days of careful stoicism on the march home to Skyhold or one night with a little too much alcohol has robbed me of that control. Indoors is worse than outdoors, but I have no choice now. I retreat back inside, close the doors, and blow out most of my lights, leaving just one candle beside the bed, and then I collapse onto the bed.

My head lands on something that crackles.

In the dim light I missed it - a folded white sheet of paper on a white pillow. I wipe my eyes and pick it up, curiosity momentarily banishing grief. My first thought, for once this evening, is not Solas, but that a servant perhaps left me a note for some reason. I find and light another candle before unfolding the paper, aware one candle will be far from sufficient light for reading.

There is something hard in the middle of the folds. Perhaps a trinket I lost? But I wear very little that is decorative, and less that is small and decorative.

I finish unfolding, and a ring falls into my waiting hand. Ironbark - intricately carved - not a Keeper's ring. It looks like the kind of token Dalish exchange when they declare a mate. Earrings were somewhat more common in my Clan, but rings and pendants common enough. Did someone give me this by mistake, assuming it was mine merely because it is Dalish? It's too large for me - it falls off every finger I try except my thumb, and it's still a little loose even then.

Perhaps there is something written to explain. I turn my attention to the paper-

-and I am met with runes. Elven runes.

What...is this?

Then I realize I know the handwriting. It is the same hand that wrote me a careful primer, that I might teach myself to read.

Solas.

My fist closes around the ring, and I bring the paper closer, so eager to decipher the runes that they fail to impart any meaning at all - and the uncertain light is certainly not helping. After several frantic moments, I force myself to put the note down, take a breath, and then set about relighting all the candles and lamps I have just finished extinguishing. My knowledge of written Elven is still extremely limited. I don't need anything making this harder.

My hands are shaking by the time I return, but now I can at least see. I smooth the paper carefully on the pillow and bend over it.

"Ara sasha - something - vhen'an…" It's a little easier to puzzle out the words aloud. "My only...something...heart? Home?" Why are Elven meanings so context-specific? "La...sa. Lasan? Or lasas?" I suddenly can't remember the difference between the first- and second-person modifiers. "Lasan," I decide, sketching the runes out with my finger. "Lasan ara'sal - something - halam sal'shiral. That's - I give my soul - something - end...of life? Of...soul's journey? No personal possessives - wait - " This line sounds familiar. I close my eyes, trying to remember.

Lasan ara'sal hasan halam sal'shiral.

I give you my soul until the end of life's journey.

Dalish vows, offered to one's mate.

But if that's the case, the first line isn't correct. The rune I don't recognize would be "dir," which would make the full word translate to "promise." But the line should be "ara dir'vhen'an": my promise. Not "ara sasha dir'vhen'an": my only promise. And - that line usually comes almost halfway through the vows. In fact, everything Solas has written is perhaps half or a third the length of the vows I know. Is this...simply some other form, from another Dalish clan? Or is it something else?

Perhaps the question will answer itself if I finish the translation.

Unfortunately, most of the rest of it is beyond me, with great gaping holes in my understanding. Even knowing they are vows I have heard dozens of times and should be able to match up lines for, I simply don't know enough runes to make sense of most of the rest - and the alterations likely don't help. The fourth line, for instance: Sasha mar - something something - ju - something - ma - something. "Only your - something something - will I - something - my - something." I am fairly certain there are a few lines beginning "sasha mar," but the vows are long and I was never very interested in them as I was growing up. A few lines I remember with perfect clarity because they stood out for one reason or another, but probably half of them I would barely recognize if someone spoke them aloud to me. Since my people don't write these things down, at least not to share with non-mages like me, it isn't as though I can simply look them up, either.

Well - the discovery has one use: I am much too busy thinking about it to pass the night in tears.

I spend a few days debating possibilities in my head. The simplest course might be to reach out to my Keeper. She likely wouldn't help me read the runes myself, but she would probably send me a translation. The idea is...emotionally fraught, though. I never did find the...time, or will, or something...to tell Deshanna about Solas. There was too much about him and our relationship she would likely disapprove of, and...there was a hole in the sky and a darkspawn magister with a pet archdemon. I didn't want to add the small problem of my Keeper's disapproval to the giant problems I already faced.

Sending her what are clearly marriage vows? She would have a lot of questions, most of which I don't want to answer.

The other possibility: use the resources of the Inquisition to acquire more advanced books that can teach me Elven runes. The problem with that? I would need help from Morris, and Morris would certainly tell Leliana, who would feel compelled to ask me about it. I'm not a good enough liar to get away with doing it straight to Leliana's face - and, anyway, on this subject I would probably cry even trying to equivocate. That is certainly the worst part. What Solas said and did is no one's affair but mine, but Leliana is a friend as well as an advisor, and I don't mind her knowing some of it. I just don't want her to know how badly it affects me.

It is still the course I choose, though - mostly because I realize that, if I want to actually wear the ring, she will notice and ask about it eventually. I wear gloves or gauntlets a lot, but not all the time. I also decide to face her directly, rather than trying to go around her by talking to Morris. I prefer to control the time, place, and means by which she learns of all this. That is how, several days after my discovery, I come to be having the noon meal in my chamber with my spymaster. If I'm going to cry, I am at least not going to do it in public.

We eat first. I know perfectly well how closely she has been watching me since Solas ended things between us - and it is true I may have lost a little weight, though anxiety about Corypheus might account for some of it. I don't want to cause her any more sleepless nights than she no doubt already suffers, so I demonstrate my ability to fuel my body with food before launching into anything that might steal my appetite.

After the meal I simply place the ring and note in front of her without explanation. Then I wait as she studies both for a long time. "I have read more about Dalish customs since you joined us," she tells me, recalling me from the reverie I have fallen into as I gaze out the window, "but I confess I do not read Elven. And you - are not a mage."

"I read a little," I tell her, "but the skill is only lately gained - since becoming Inquisitor."

"This doesn't look like the drawings I have seen of Keepers' rings," she says, taking the information I have given her in stride and moving on to the next piece of the puzzle. "If it were human - I might guess it was a wedding ring."

"Dalish exchange similar tokens when we choose a bondmate," I tell Leliana, "though rings aren't as popular in my Clan as some other gifts."

"So - has someone proposed?" she asks, easily reading between the lines.

The image that conjures up - of Solas actually asking me instead of...whatever this is - brings the first tears to my eyes. I swallow and blink rapidly, averting my gaze in a likely-futile attempt not to let her see. "I don't know," I whisper. "I know the handwriting. I know it's from - Solas. And…" I have to pause to take a breath. "He does seem to be referencing - vows - Dalish vows - that my people exchange-" I can't finish the sentence and pause again, taking several more breaths. "I can't read well enough to know exactly what he is saying," I finish at last.

"Your Keeper might help you, no?" Leliana asks gently.

I give a little pant of laughter. "No doubt - if I had ever told her about Solas. And - if I wanted to explain what this is now."

"Ah." Her tone is both wry and compassionate. "What do you need?"

"Books teaching Elven runes," I tell her, on steadier ground now, though my voice is still low and husky with unshed tears. "There are very few - we don't have a lot of access to printing presses, so most must be copied by hand, and are kept for use by each clan's Keeper, to teach apprentices to read."

"That shouldn't be too difficult," Leliana replies, her mind already working. "Between Josie and Varric, we should have enough contacts to find some collector who owns one - or more. Alternatively, we might find someone besides your Keeper to make a translation."

That idea hadn't occurred to me, but the Inquisition does have independent ties to other clans. The thought of something so personal going to a near-stranger, though… "I would rather do it myself, if possible," I decide.

"I understand," Leliana says. "It will take longer, but I'm certain it can be done." She hesitates and then asks: "Will you wear it - the ring?"

"Yes," I whisper.

It takes me nearly two months to receive the books I need and finish the translation. By then the ring is a familiar weight on my left thumb, though seeing it still makes me feel odd. I don't even really know what it represents - not even, as it turns out, once I know what Solas has written.

Most of the lines come word-for-word, or nearly, from the vows I am familiar with, but he has omitted a great many of the promises most bondmates make. There is no promise to serve or protect, no promise to share food or drink or life, and he has altered some of the lines. Instead of promising "only your eyes will I see in the morning," he has promised they are the only eyes "I will see in my dreams." And instead of promising "to worship and praise you into uthenera," he has promised "for as long as I endure."

The darker context and the fact he obviously doesn't plan for us to be physically together also seems to alter the meaning of some lines. "Only your name will I cry during the night" is supposed to be a promise of sexual fidelity. That he included it - it makes me ache, wondering what Solas intends to do with his nights that will apparently both leave him sleepless and feeling the need to call on my memory for...something. Strength? Courage? Comfort?

And - I can't help but note he didn't ask me to make any promises in return. I don't know how I could have done it, considering he clearly doesn't intend for me to contact him, but these vows are supposed to be an exchange. If he doesn't expect me to return them, he should never have made them himself. I can't decide whether he knows me well enough to know that I already see him as my mate, or whether he is trying to reassure me that I have his love while also telling me I need not wait for him.

Why, of all things, would he leave me this cryptic set of hints - in Elven, a language he is perfectly aware I can barely read - instead of just giving me a plain explanation?

It's - probably better than nothing, but not much. Still - I continue to wear the ring. It is somehow appropriate that it fits me so poorly - a metaphor for how well the nearly non-existent relationship Solas has planned for us works.

I can only hope that, someday, he gives me a real explanation. I also hope it's a good one - good enough that I'm not forced to put several arrows in him, because looking at his ring does often make me reflect on the possibility he deserves them.

Enaste: Thanks, lit. "grace" or "blessings"

Sathem: "Pleased," shortened/less formal version of "sathem lasa halani": "pleased to be of assistance."

Ane mahn?: Where are you?