A/N: Thank you so much for reading!
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Finley stretched her arms up over her head, fingers laced before she let them fall back, swinging slightly at her sides.
"I do not think I've ever seen you so at ease."
Solas' voice cut through the quiet of the woods, and Finley shrugged, not concerned with checking to make sure he was still there. She could feel him, or his magic rather, impossibly old with whispers in it that spoke of a structure she was unfamiliar with. Something elven, most likely.
"There are no templars about," Finley said with a shrug. She'd almost forgotten what this was like, to wander without the prickles of unwanted attention on her. And despite her efforts to 'get along' with the rest of the inquisition, she still felt far safer by herself. Less people to worry about meant she could worry about herself, and that the only one hurt by any folly would be her.
Well, and Solas.
But he was quite capable, and she found it hard to fear for him.
"I find it surprising that you could truly be so afraid of them."
"They have a tendency to stab on sight when it comes to wicked apostates like me," Finley offered with a bitter smile. "Or they used to. Maybe I should let my spell lapse when I'm with allies." When she glanced toward Solas, she saw his curiosity in the tilt of his head and question in his eyes. "I have one that lets me know when a templar has seen me. Nice little warning in the Wilds to get me moving before they get too close."
"But out here it must be quite tedious."
'Out here' was the countryside of Orlais, and while it was hardly her Wilds, they'd gone almost two days without seeing another soul, and she couldn't begin to compare this place to somewhere like Skyhold, where half the guards seemed to be templars. They'd already closed two rifts by themselves, and it left Finley wondering if they ought to just tour the entire countryside and fix the problem before the nobles even knew they were there.
"It can be a bit trying with all the templars about." She glanced at him again. "I could teach you the spell, if you'd like."
With a soft laugh, he declined the offer.
She nodded, though she felt a bit wary after that. After all, she owed him a spell, especially considering he'd been ready with a stronger version of the spell he'd originally given her to block the Nightmare's influence.
She hadn't slept so well in...years, it felt like.
She owed him a lot.
Though, she kept coming back to that one spot in the Fade, the one with the falling books and the wisps that cried and flitted about in distress.
The place where her demon had made its pact in the memory she'd been given.
"The creature that led us through the Fade at Adamant," she said abruptly, before silence could settle over them again. "That was the one that's followed me my whole life."
Solas nodded.
"What did you see when you looked at it?"
Blinking, he arched his brow.
With a shrug, she motioned vaguely around them. "Dorian saw the Divine. Varric saw a being of light. Warden Blackwall saw...something that resembled me." She trailed off before adding, "I saw a desire demon...until right at the end, she changed into something else. Something like what Varric saw, I think."
"I saw a spirit of duty," Solas replied. Just as Finley wondered if he would need more prompting, he continued. "I saw a spirit that had lost its way, trying desperately to find its way back, to do what it was meant to do. It took on your safety as its responsibility, and I think keeping you safe may have returned it to its original state, or as close to it as it can ever be."
"I think it died."
Solas brow arched again.
Picking at the hem of her shirt, she frowned at the fabric. "It went against the Nightmare by itself. I didn't ask it...I didn't ask her to, but she gave me a memory...one of hers, I think."
"You fear it may have possessed you?"
Blinking, Finley's attention snapped to Solas. Somehow, the thought had never occurred to her that she might have been saying yes to something she didn't understand when she accepted that memory.
She felt a little sick.
"There is something different about you," Solas mused. "Though it is not another presence. A piece perhaps?"
Finley felt her stomach turn. She could remember Garrett's story about Flemeth, about using a piece of herself to… "Will it possess me?"
"No, I do not believe so," Solas offered almost instantly. "Forgive me for saying it thus. I just know your concerns about spirits and demons and wished to allay any fears. Instead, I stoked them."
"But...I keep coming to a place in the memory it gave me. I keep expecting it to be there, to meet me, but there's nothing."
"Spirits do not die like you and I," Solas explained, his voice a gentle thrum as they walked. "Their essence lingers and, given time, something else may reform where they once dwelled. It will not be the same spirit, however."
"So then she's really gone?"
Her words came out surprisingly forlorn and the realization that she could even miss that thing hit her so hard that she stopped in her tracks.
She didn't miss what it had done, the people it hard hurt. However, there was a small part of her that missed that being of light, that missed knowing that something—someone had always been watching over her, twisted as they'd been.
It was odd how lonely it made her.
"I have not sensed her in my wanderings," Solas said. He stopped a few paces ahead of Finley and looked back. "But then, I was not searching for her. Would you like me to?"
"I don't know." She ran her hands down her face, rubbing her cheeks briskly before beginning to walk again. "A month ago, she was a demon, a monster that haunted me all my life. Now...I don't know what she is. What she was. What she could be. And it hurts to think of her as something other than the monster. But it hurts to think of her as the monster, too."
"That you would even consider viewing her differently is...surprising," Solas murmured, resuming his pace beside her. "I have met few willing to change their minds in this world."
Finley didn't know what to say to that, and so their conversation wandered, in and out. He had been a mercy, coming along with those templars and Cassandra to assist against the Venatori.
While Cassandra had initially intended not to come straight away, Finley's bird had made itself enough of a pest that she had given in and come to the inquisitor's aide, though not without a few choice words.
There had been more glaring when Finley suggested they recruit the Val-kos to join the Inquisition.
As it was, they had managed to save twenty five other children, aside from Tess and Neolle. Tess was the oldest remaining of them, and Finley had been distraught that so many children had been kept together, in the back end of nowhere.
Did Circle mages no understand how dangerous traveling in groups could be? Did they not understand that it became even more perilous with every child in the group, every person who could not stand on their own?
Lady Vivienne had asked what Finley would have had them do instead. Leave them in the fallen Circles? Let them fend for themselves?
Finley had almost said yes to that. She'd fended for herself, and she'd turned out well enough.
But then, looking over the little ones, most still finding ways to keep near one another for the comfort of knowing each other, she couldn't.
They reminded her of all the times she'd wanted someone there for her, wanted someone to make her feel safe.
And more than that, they were all so...small.
She'd been terrified that she might accidentally hurt one of them. Birds she understood, wyvern and fennecs, too. But children...they were so...fragile. She could remember how easily she'd bled, how easily she'd bruised. She didn't want that to happen to any of the little ones here.
When Solas had asked her to help him find out what had happened to his friend, she'd been ready to go that instant.
She'd left a note for Cassandra, and they'd headed off, just the two of them.
Sera, Bull, and Lady Vivienne had all shown that they were good with children, so it wasn't like she was abandoning them. They'd even taken one of the Venatori's wagons and used it to help herd the little ones toward Skyhold. The children would be fine, with them and the mercenaries and the templars guarding them.
And Solas' task was not so far out of the way. They would likely make it back to Skyhold before the others.
Back to Commander Rutherford and his own inquisition that no doubt awaited.
She'd gone over what he might say a million times, and yet she couldn't settle on what the damage would be. She hadn't read the whole document—she hadn't wanted to read the part where Ser Neill tried to take her to the Avvar—but she knew that Ser Caudry had speculated that she was born to an abomination.
He'd wondered if she might not be a little demonic herself.
That he had even wondered such a thing about her hurt, but then...he'd changed his mind hadn't he? At least for a little while. After all, who in their right mind read stories to monsters?
She hoped they wouldn't ask any more questions about it. Maybe just a few about the Wilds. She supposed she could tell them a little bit, so long as it didn't put anyone else directly in danger.
So long as they didn't ask for names.
And if they did…
Perhaps she would make some up.
After all, Commander Rutherford had been so...strange when he'd heard that she knew a Flemeth. Had she not explained that there were many Flemeths in the Wilds at Denerim? Had he not been listening, perhaps?
He had been rather distraught.
But surely Leliana or Josephine or Cassandra had mentioned it to him?
Why was he being so…
She was still angry with him, but the longer time went between seeing him again, the more she couldn't help but wonder why.
Why had he been angry at Adamant? Why had he stopped defending her and walked away? For a few moments there, she'd thought he might have come back from whatever dark thoughts he'd been allowing himself, thought that she could see the kindness in him again.
More importantly, she couldn't help but wonder why she cared so much, either way. Yes, she'd seen him in the Fade being tortured, and it had hurt her heart, but she had seen others as well.
But none of her others had come to her aide in the real world, defending her against ridiculous claims from people who had been her heroes for so long. And none of them had come back for her when she'd been lost to the blizzard or been there for her in so many other little ways.
She bristled at the thought.
He was an ass, plain and simple.
One that she was trying very hard not to miss.
After all, what good would it do her?
Regardless of how she might feel, he was too afraid of magic, and she had decided a long time ago that she would not put herself through that sort of relationship.
One where she would be feared and othered just for being herself.
"Is it hurting you?"
Solas' voice cut through her thoughts.
She blinked as she looked up at him and then down to see she'd been rubbing her wrist. Holding her marked hand up, she watched the magic dance across her skin, each shift sending small prickles up her arm.
"It's...I think it's getting bigger."
Instantly, Solas stepped closer, lightly taking her hand in his so that he could inspect it with more care. With a barely whispered word he led her over to where they could sit beneath a tree so that he could look over her hand more easily.
His fingers ghosted across her skin, and she wistfully wondered why she couldn't fall for someone decent like Solas.
Aside from the fact that every mage she'd ever fallen for had turned into an abomination, there wasn't any real reason she couldn't…
Except that there was nothing there, not even when she willed her heart to give a flutter or two.
She pushed the thoughts aside, watching him as he conjured spells to test the stability of the mark.
"Will the sky open back up?"
"Hmm?" Solas' gaze darted up to hers for a moment before settling back on her hand. "Doubtful." He paused then, considering it. "You mean if the mark gets bigger?" When she nodded, he shook his head. "No, I think not."
"They're not connected anymore?"
"Not the way they were," Solas murmured, magic buzzing around his fingertips and making her skin prickle the same as the mark.
"You know rift magic, don't you?"
He stilled.
"Can you make them? Rifts?"
"No," he replied, abruptly relaxing. She knew better than to ask such personal questions, but it had just struck her how similar the magic was. Old and powerful and… "I can use the Fade in different ways, though. You've seen me Fade-step."
As he spoke, she was torn between watching him work his spellcraft and listening to what he said. Finally, she settled for the latter. He spoke of his time in the Fade and of learning different techniques from spirits of a bygone time.
Before she knew it, she was talking herself, remembering tales of old magic that she'd wanted to learn from. "When I was smaller, I found these trees, remnants from the elvhen empire, according to a few others. They shone with light inside them, just shy of the lightless reaches. They made the twilight so much more festive. I spent so much time trying to figure out how they'd been made, it's embarrassing." She trailed off and sighed. She'd wanted to be sure that they could have been formed naturally, that magic was natural and so was she. "The Blight took them, though. One of the things I've been trying my hardest to do is find a way to bring them back."
Solas offered her a word that she could only clumsily repeat. "That was what they were called. One time, they lit up the Lightless Reaches, a whole forest to keep the darkness at bay."
"You saw them, too?" Her hand no longer hurt, and his fell away from her as she peered down at it. The mark was still larger, reaching almost to the middle of her wrist, but the prickling sensation, and occasional pains were gone. It abruptly occurred to her that Solas was likely a fellow Wilds apostate. It should have been obvious, with his manner of dress and his intricate knowledge of obscure magic. And that he'd seen those trees, too... "I wonder how close our paths were to crossing before." When he looked confused, she motioned vaguely to the south. "Obviously we saw the trees at different times, but I wonder if we didn't just miss one another on occasion."
"I haven't been there in a very long time."
"Neither have I."
The smile on Solas' face was so unbearably lonely that it gave Finley pause, staring up after him as he rose to his feet and shouldered his belongings. When he noticed she hadn't followed him, he offered her a hand. "Come, inquisitor. I would like to find what has become of my friend."