Ma serannas for reading! Additional translations in the end notes

"Hey Chuckles"

Varric reached Solas' spot, two mugs in his hands. And a smirk on his face. First skeptical face to the too friendly good morning, the elf understood immediately the typical smile. Great. He groaned on the inside while taking the cup. Distracted, he instinctively smelled the tea. Reflex which led to a disgusted grunt.

"You are a damn riddle" commented Varric, still confused by his logic about the stuff. "I guessed you needed the tonic. You stayed up quite late." Solas didn't need to look at him to know he just winked. And here it goes…

"I have to admit myself impressed by your stealth, Son of the Stone. I did not notice your presence while I was still awake." His tone was detached and nonchalant. It wasn't enough to stop Varric.

"Not that it took a lot, you seemed quite distracted." The elf remained unshakeable.

"I should have known better. The Herald is not the kind to take no for an answer." He paused. The inquisitive look of the dwarf made him reluctantly resumed. "She came by to offer me her thanks. I told her none were needed. She is a stubborn woman as you may know."

SHE is stubborn? This is both the understatement and the joke of the year from him. For once, the dwarf kept his thought to himself and settled for a simple…

"Yes. And…?"

"And she fell asleep. This is all this story has to offer, Son of the Stone."

Wow two son of the Stone in a row, damn, he really doesn't want to talk about it. His sentence sounded like an untold threat. Varric sighed.

"Fair enough, Chuckles. I hope your grimness didn't rub off on Grey yet, or this is going to grow tiresome quickly." Mumbled he.

For almost the entire day, the herald slept. The voices of Cullen, Leliana, Josephine and Cassandra woke her up in the early evening. They were arguing outside. Again.

"These are dark times for all of us" The voice of Mother Giselle startled her. She turned her head. She was sitting next to her cot.

"Gods, Mother Giselle, I did not see you there."

Her hand instinctively reached to her chin. Not like war-paint could have magically appeared. Hers had been buried with Haven and Bull did not wear any. And now, even people who did not already know were coming here. Crap. She did consider using blood but the times when she was alone were few. She managed once but it was removed the next time she woke up and she got scolded like never by the healers. Well, yes, 'twas not very wise to cut her arm and bleed voluntarily considering her current state, but she had to do something.

"Sorry for scarring you." The mother paused before adding "You have no need to hide them here, child." The Herald dismissed the apologies with a waving hand and sighed, looking at the argument.

"Need or not, I can't and I will have to do with that. I thought they would have stopped by now. Or at least bring it up here."

"It has almost been a week. People are scared, exhausted. Adding your voice would do no good here."

"Yes?" She asked with a mischievous smile. "And what do you think of a snowball? We should use the only supply we really have after all!"

Giselle let a little laugh out. This was the way the herald had won the people's heart. This was this very smile which put hope in them. Her way of joking and smiling with confidence and lightness, even in the darkness. It was an untold promise that everything was going to be alright. She had a way to make her unbreakable mask feel genuine and innate. Maybe it was.

This façade was the one of a true leader. One who knows better, who has more reasons to be concerned than any other, but who is able to hide it because she cannot let the people see that she is scared. This was who was the Herald to the Mother, a beacon of hope. A very unexpected one, looking sometimes like a Qunari, like a Tevinter, sounding like that or like a Fereldan, a Dalish or a bard. Maybe it was why. She was the Herald of everyone. At any rate, she was someone who would take responsibilities she was not meant to assume and never complain. Someone who will do what needed to be done, from a decision no one else was willing to assume, to a simple smile to ease the fear of a poor man. This confident smile could win anyone in a blink.

Giselle considered her a time before asking.

"Why do you hide them? I don't know a lot about your People but I thought these were a symbol of pride." Mahariel raised a brow.

"Are you so eager to see your Herald running around with some pagan symbols on her face?"

"Fair enough. Your secrets are yours, Herald."

Mahariel remained thoughtful, looking outside. The tent was wide-opened. She put a foot on the ground and stood up, walking slowly towards a post. She sighed on the inside. Her secrets did not seem important anymore. She felt like she was dodging the questions by habit more than something else. She was tired. Tired of secrets, tired of failing at protecting people. She should have seen this coming. In Redcliffe, she had heard of the Elder One attacking the Inquisition. What a fool she had been to think she had prevented this future. But no, she had been focused on what was next for her. She was focused on protecting her former clan and she had forgotten about the people in front of her. She had sent her agents away. She finally spoke low.

"I failed you all."

When she said it, a heavy silence fell on the camp. Cullen, Cassandra, Leliana and Josephine had stopped bickering and were looking down. Out of words and plans. She shook her head and suppressed a bitter laugh. A silence of death…Deaths I failed to prevent. Mother Giselle looked at them and knew what to do. There was hope. Even if their leaders couldn't see it anymore. And if they had forgotten, the people could remind them.

"Shadows fall, and hope has fled.
Steel your heart, the dawn will come.

The night is long, and the path is dark
Look to the sky, for one day soon
The dawn will come."

All of a sudden, few voices including the melodious high-pitched of the spymaster joined hers.

"The shepherd's lost, and his home is far
Keep to the stars, the dawn will come.
The night is long…"

More and more people were joining the song, under the dazzled eyes of the Herald. She swallowed a bit. Fenhedis, why are they looking at…Oh crap. The commander's voice surprised her the most.

"…And the path is dark
Look to the sky, for one day soon
The dawn will come."

All of Haven's survivors were now singing…and began to kneel, one by one. In front of her. NO. NO NO NO Dammit NO - LOOK TO THE SKY, you just said it! Do it, not me, the sky! NOW!...Please…Her thoughts were rushing, at the end almost begging for them to turn to someone else, anyone else. She felt her limbs shiver. Her vision wasn't clear as she tried to keep her tears for herself. Tears as confused as her feelings. Honor, Pride, Fear…Too much, just too much. She felt the weight of the world on her shoulders and leaned more against the post. She wanted to disappear into it. She just failed them, they couldn't seriously trust her now! She had been the doom of Haven, she would be the doom of them as well!

Solas was watching the scene from behind a tent. He could feel her growing discomfort in her eyes. Discomfort which quickly became fear…And which would just as quickly jump to a panic attack. A glance towards the swift pace of her chest made him move. He got around the crowd through the shadows once more. He entered the tent discreetly from the other side and soon he was, hidden smartly in the darkness, next to her. She jumped when he put a comforting hand on her shoulder. He leaned to her ear.

"breath lethallan." He struggled a bit to lock her gaze. He took one of her hand into his, trying to remain as hidden in the tent as possible. Hopefully, the crowd was too mesmerized to notice the current state of their herald.

"Bare your blade, and raise it high
Stand your ground, the dawn will come

The night is long, and the path is dark
Look to the sky, for one day soon"

Solas squeezed her hand gently to keep her attention on him. He muttered in, out as he was tranquilizing her breathes.

"The dawn will come."

Mother Giselle turned back to her. Thanks to Solas' intervention, her expression could be acknowledged as deeply touched.

"You can rely on us as much as we rely on you, child. They will follow you. You didn't fail them and they won't fail you."

Grateful for her that the mother didn't expect any answer, Solas reached discreetly the spot of the post where the fabric was stuck in order to keep the tent open. He let it fall between the Herald and the rest of the camp so they were now out of sight. As soon as it was done, she crumbled heavily on the ground, taking him off-guard. Her breathes were quick and loud and she was shacking horribly. A deep concern on his face, he kneeled in front of her.

"Lethallan? Lethallan, talk to me."

The only things she could see was Haven, Corypheus, his Dragon. Red. Red everywhere. The sound of her blood in her temples. Screams. Cries. Corpses everywhere. The Temple of Sacred Ashes. Burnt Corpses crying in their last stand. The Future. Red everywhere. Cassandra. Varric. Solas. Glowing red lyrium under their skin. Leliana. Analen. Shadow sinking into her flesh. Her cry of pain. She couldn't stop it. They wanted her to stop that. People died instead of her. He wanted her. He was never going to stop.

Varric popped up through the part of the tent which was still open.

"This was quite the show –" He interrupted himself, seeing the scene. He rushed towards the Herald. "Grey? Chuckles what is happening to her?"

"Panic attack." Solas managed. "I thought I had it under control but obviously I was wrong." He kept his voice more or less even. The dwarf, just as concerned, decided to begin by closing the other slide.

"You tried your magic?"

"Yes, she is fighting it."

"Well…Shit." Solas burst.

"Tell me this was not the big contribution of yours, dwarf!"

Death. So many corpses. Flashes of Redcliffe. Red everywhere, Breach upon Thedas, Leliana, Cassandra, Varric, Solas, Analen…Doomed. Dead. She didn't see the reality around her anymore. She was spiraling, not seeing the difference between the truth and the fears on her mind. They are dead. As everyone you once dared to call friends. Fellsathan, Venicio, Salit…There will be no difference here. SHUT UP. She tried to shout to the endless voice laughing cruelly. You know this is the truth. You are nothing but a stupid child. Did you think you stood a chance?

"Bad. It wants to feed. It awaits next to her. She will be weak again. I'm hungry."

Varric and Solas turned quickly towards the boy. He appeared at the beginning of the attack on Haven. Solas could feel his nature. He was no mortal boy. He was a spirit. Compassion if he had to guess. He scowled with even deeper concern to the words of the boy.

"Who, Cole?"

"Next to her. Hungry. He wants her to be afraid. He loves when she is afraid. Delicious. Powerful. Always glowing."

"Fear demon. Can you see him, Cole? Can you chase him?"

"No. I wish to help but she won't let me. Not anymore. Weak. Unworthy. Everyone died and it is all my fault. A death sentence. I should have died. I was the one who had to die. But I'm not. And they are. Selfish. Powerless. Helpless. Let me die."

"Chuckles, can you explain?"

"Not now, Varric, we need to reach her first." His voice shook. He tried to clear his mind. He needed to think clearly in order to free her.

"Breath, Chuckles." Varric said with a comforting hand. The last thing they needed was a second panicking elf. "You said you had it under control, what changed?"

"She thinks everyone died. Show her you are not." Resumed Cole.

Yes, it might be that simple! She lost it when he broke eye and physical contact! Solas reached her hands and tilted his head. He needed to lock her eyes into his.

"Lethallan, look at me. I'm alive. None of this is real."

Death, corpses, red…Lethallan. Solas' voice was nothing more than a whisper. No, it was a trick! He was dead. Because she failed. Because she dared care for him. Suddenly she saw the storm blue eyes. No…Red. But he was…The demon's voice lowered a bit.

"Lethallan, listen to me. None of this is real. This is a demon. Don't let him reach you. You are not weak. You didn't fail. You saved more people than I can count. You are not a death sentence. You are hope. Ma ane ara las."

"Yes…Yes you are helping! She needs your voice. She needs your eyes. No red. Alive."

Solas resumed his words. His voice comforting and smooth. Slowly, the demon stepped back. He mostly talked to her in an elvhen she couldn't understand. But it didn't matter. The words didn't matter. At some point, seeing that she was feeling better, Varric looked at the boy. It was better for them to take their leave. Solas had it under control.

He didn't notice that their audience was gone. All he saw was her. He finally drove her to his chest. His heartbeat finished the work of his voice. He was alive. She took some deep breathes. It took her some more minutes to find her voice.

"I…I'm sorry Solas. It never happened before…I thought I was a better mage than that, being fool by a demon..." She chastised herself.

"Tel'abelas, lethallan." He replied in a low voice, gently pulling her away to look her in the eyes. "Do not blame yourself, this is the mark's doing. It drives the spirits attention towards you in a far stronger way than towards any usual mage."

"Still, it is no excuse." He scowled slightly.

"It is precisely an excuse. And a good one if I may add. Your connection to the Fade is stronger than the connection of any other. Your training did not prepare you to face such an insistent threat. No usual training could." She shook her head.

"So, I have to deal with it. This is not your burden, it is mine. Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful for your help…"

"You just don't want to be in need of such help." She blushed a little. Of course, he would see right through her.

"Indeed." She noticed the slight smirk on his lips. Creators, what does he have in mind now?

"If you allow me to help you, I may have a solution for this issue." She raised an eyebrow.

"Your solution to me not wanting help is to offer me yours, again?"

"In order for you not to need it later. As you know, I have journeyed deep into the Fade. I have encountered more spirits than most of the mages. I could teach you how to protect yourself more efficiently."

Fenedhis, what does he do not know? Finally, she nodded reluctantly. He stood up, satisfied, and gave her a hand. Naturally, she ignored it and jumped on her feet. She winced when she felt the stabbing pain in her ankle. He sighed. So much pride and stubbornness. So difficult.

She just went back to her tent after discussing with Leliana. Well, singing might be nice but it didn't give them any lead on what to do now…She jumped when she heard the well-known voice behind her.

"Lethallan, a word?"

She nodded. Solas guided her to his spot. He had his serious look on his face. This was never good. She was expecting the worst…Even if she had a hard time imagining what it could be now. He walked few steps ahead of her. She found her eyes lingering on his body. Thin, elegant but also muscled…The curve of his back leading to perfect-shaped – Wow, what the hell?! Pull it together, serious look, all this. His hands clasped in his back, he was staring at the horizon – obviously back to this "avoiding-eyes" thing. She suppressed a sigh before he resumed.

"Herald –"A mumble interrupted him.

"You pissed me off to get my real name just to not use it…" She realized that she just said that out loud and babbled some apologies for her rudeness. "Fenedhis, it wasn't meant to cross my lips, please go on."

She slightly frowned, displeased by this poor control of her mouth. Three months not working and her training was far from her mind. She didn't see the sad smile on his lips. Don't you worry vhenan, I understand the burden of a title that all but replaces your name…

"Ma nuvenin, Mahariel." he smiled before going back to his formal tone. She felt a shiver going through her spine as he said her name with this voice. Fenedhis, this voice… "The threat Corypheus wields? The orb he carried? It is ours. Corypheus used the orb to open the Breach. Unlocking it must have caused the explosion that destroyed the Conclave. We must find out how he survived…And we must prepare for their reaction, when they learn the orb is of our People."

She listened carefully, the words efficiently pulling her thoughts back to business. She took few seconds to swallow the news. She closed her eyes and sighed. Of course. A weird-ass-darkspawn-magister-self-proclaimed-god-to-be-bastard just couldn't use his own magic to put a giant hole in the sky. She stood. Cold. Stoic.

"How do you know?" Right back to her composure. And her endless curiosity, always thirsty for knowledge. He explained her how he acquired this information in the Fade.

"We have to do something if we want to avoid a new exalted March." She declared, nodding thoughtfully. Where he admired her wisdom and pragmatism, as ever, he found also himself bitter. How old could she be? He never asked, but hardly older than twenty-five. And yet, her reaction, her words…Her eyes and face even carried the burden of too much ordeals. Her sight was hardened. Despite her confident smile, her trust in her friends was not full - no better than his…She was always watching her back and waiting for the back-stabbing. He chased the thought. He didn't ask her to come to worry her – at least not only.

"What happened, the faith of human's hearts. It is the key. We have to be beyond suspicion. In order to do that, their faith must grow. Not only irreproachable, you will become irreplaceable."

"I?" She raised an eyebrow.

"I'm afraid this burden is yours to take, lethallan." She suppressed a sigh. Finally, she came out with a knowing smile.

"You have something in mind, don't you?"

He smirked.

"Not something, somewhere. A place they will call home. A place which waits for the force who will reclaim it. A place where you shall guide them."

He went on, explaining further on. As he spoke, her eyes widened. She was startled. An answer instead of a question! This was… A genuine grin enlightened her face, suddenly free of the concern.

"Solas, this is…this is wonderful! No, wonderful is insufficient...Why are we still here? We need to tell the others!"

She moved quickly, eager to share some good news. He simply turned around but stayed where he stood. He looked at her with his head tilted affectionally. The lightness in her movements, the excitement…She was jumping more than walking – careless with her wounds. He discreetly put a barrier around her to protect her still fragile bones. She was lovely. Her attitude did not appear childish. It could have on someone else but the grace of her every move, the delicate well-shaped curves of her body, the messy white hair stroking her shoulders sensually. He had a toothless smile on his face. If he could at least ease the weight he put unwillingly on her…

On her way, she spun towards him with a questioning look. He could feel his pupils dilatated themselves with her movement. Her hair flew from one side to the other. Her bosoms slightly jumped. The recovered hope looked astonishing on her. On the back of his mind, he regretted that she was not wearing her antaam-saar but her armor. She raised an eyebrow at him.

"Coming, lethallin?" she nothing but purred. He smirked at her mischief.

"Ma lasa ghilan. I won't interfere with the Sacred Work of the Herald" He teased. But he said it himself. She wouldn't take no for an answer. And he had put her in a playful mood. She reached him swiftly.

"I am not going to take credit for your solution, no way." Declared she.

She stood so close to him. Her eyes and smile glowing with mischief. He could smell her spring scent, feel the aura of her magic…melting with his. He felt her warm breath on his neck. He couldn't help but gulp. Moving was off-limit…If he moved, it would not be in a wise way. She had locked his gaze in hers. He was drowning in the green-blue lagoon pupils. He did not try twice to break the stare. His only attempt drove his eyes right to her lips – not helpful. His trouble was tangible. But so was his desire – barely in check.

She had no intent to make a move when she reached him. But his reaction…Well, his inability to react, the feeling of his warmth near her, his eyes deep into her, his forest scent…And there was the magic part. The sensation of hers mixing with his was intoxicating – in the good way. In an amazing way. She allowed the moment to last. She knew she should feel discomfort but none was there. It was heady. She might be more in control than him but she could feel her breath short. She eventually smirked and continued in a low, slow voice.

"Besides, you are named Solas if I recall. I happen to have a hard time believing you don't want to take credit." He lapped up everything she was saying, struggling to keep his composure. She resumed "admit it. You…" the already whisper was becoming a sensual purr. "…are craving for this."

He felt his hands shacking in his back and a shiver going through his spine. The two words who appeared in his mind where two he wasn't used to associate but which felt perfect. Well…Shit.

Truth be told, she got caught in her own game. She was unwillingly biting her bottom lip, struggling not to let her eyes go down to his lips. In a demonstration of extreme willpower, she managed to step back, freeing him from his current stasis – well, more or less. She let out this peculiar flirty giggle of hers. Taking advantage of his trouble – this was the whole point of it after all…Kind of – she grabbed his hand and dragged him to the main camp. They had a bunch of people to amaze. He stumbled several times on the way.

"I am sorry to cut your thrill short, Herald, but an issue remains: even if you – or Solas – know exactly where we are heading, we are not even sure where we are. How do you intend to find this place, considering?" Cassandra asked, decided to play mood-killer.

"I still have capable scouts, Cassandra." Pointed out Leliana. "It won't be easy, but we can locate it."

"The soldiers are no scouts but they are eager to help as well." Added Cullen.

"We cannot spare that much forces. The people need protection." Mahariel stepped in. The heads turned towards her. She resumed.

"Let me help. I am no scout but I know how to find it: the mark. Solas told me the place is old…Really old. Elvhen old…" She hesitated. "I don't know how to explain it but the mark can feel it. It can give me the way." Some eyebrows frowned slightly. She sighed. "Turns out, not happy enough with putting a hole on the sky, Corypheus spoiled elven magic to do so."

The eyebrows stayed frowned but she quickly realized it was no anger towards the People. They were irritated but also compassionate.

"That is…unfortunate, Herald. Once we are safe, I will take care of this matter. You have my word, I won't let the Chantry use that against you or your people." Josephine finally announced. The others nodded instantly.

"Indeed. I won't pretend I really understand how this can help you find this place, however." Cullen said.

"Well how to put it simply…The bastard used an elven focus to open the Breach. The mark was a mean to enter physically the Fade ergo, it is somehow linked to the magic of the Breach and the Orb. Ergo, it is linked to elven magic and it can feel similar one. Like the taint for the Grey Wardens if you want. It gives them a sixth sense which allow them to feel the Blight." Leliana acquiesced instantly.

"Yes, I see what you mean."

"That is actually…Good" Josephine pointed out. Mahariel smiled slightly. Well, at least they were not eager to charge the elves for this madness. It was a beginning.

The discussion continued for a bit. Solas – dragged as he had been – was standing, hands in his back, few steps behind the Herald. While she explained her point, a discreet approval smile took place on his face. This had been a wise way to fill them in with the news. He had been ready to intervene but quickly find it useless. She was doing just fine. When it came to planning the journey, however, he raised his voice. She was asking Cullen how much time it would take to get everyone ready. She wanted to leave as soon as possible.

"That is out of question."

"Excuse me?"

"You cannot undertake such a journey for the time being. Your wounds are not fully recovered." She raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"My wounds are not fully recovered? First, I am totally able to undertake this journey and, more important, we are running out of supplies, the refugees –"

"Can wait few more days." He interrupted her. She frowned.

"Ar tel'isala mala enansal. Var shiral sahlin." I don't need your approval. We will leave ASAP.

"Ma isalas hamin. Mala vhen suledin, isala ma." You need rest. Your people can take it, they need you.

"Mala vhen?" My people? She repeated with disbelief. Josephine cleared her throat, hoping to drive the attention of the elves back to them.

"Herald, sorry to interrupt this…er…"

"Argument." Cassandra stated. "I don't know what you have been saying but Solas is right. We cannot undertake this journey until you are recovered."

Mahariel narrowed her eyes. Seriously Cassandra? You had to choose now to agree with him? She turned her gaze to Cullen. The Commander would see reason. He cleared his throat.

"You both have a point. Herald, we need you to guide us, and that suppose you not to be wounded. However, we cannot spare too much time. We are losing people every day."

Well, it was at least better than Cassandra and Solas. They ended up with a compromise: they would leave in two full days. Hopefully, with the healers and a good amount of rest, it would do the trick. They went to sleep after reaching the compromise. They could discuss the plan further in the morning.

Except when they would both meet to plan the journey with Cullen, Cassandra, Leliana and Josephine, Mahariel and Solas stayed apart during the two days. They were formal with each other, acting as nothing happened that night. Truth be told, nothing happened that night. But the ambiguity between us had been made a little too obvious for their taste.

As decided, the Herald was to scout forward during the journey. Despite her claim to know how to reach the fortress – which had been a bit emphasized in order to smoothen the news about the origins of the Orb – Solas was the one to know their destination. She didn't lie, she could indeed feel the elven magic lingering somewhere in the Frostback mountains. But right now, this was nothing more than a blur. She was still weakened by the events of Haven and could not reach the amount of focus necessary to locate it. Ergo - Well…Shit. The words popped in both heads as they were understanding where they were going with that. Despite the amused knowing smile on Leliana's face when they both straightened slightly, they remained perfectly impassible. Thoughts were running in their minds, looking for a pragmatic reason to declare the perspective unwise.

Mahariel never knew if the intervention of the Seeker was pure coincidence or if their discomfort was way more tangible than they wanted.

"With all due respect to both of you, you are both mages. I would feel better if at least a warrior joined you. The Herald is still weakened and we do not know the dangers ahead. A sword would not be too much."

"I'm in too!" Varric's voice startled everyone. "Someone has to watch Seeker and Chuckles, before their grumpiness makes Grey run away." He winked at the group. Cassandra did not bother to suppress a disgusted noise.

"Well…At least one of them learnt how to smile lately." Leliana exchanged a knowing look with the dwarf who commented with a laughter.

"I knew I was right to like you, Nightingale."

Mahariel and Solas blushed a bit. Hopefully, the darkness of the evening masked it – Ma serannas Dirthamen, they said that on the evening meeting. They remained, however, perfectly stone-faced. The Commander, far from noticing the awkwardness of the elves – or the meaning of the spymaster's comment – resumed.

"Fine. But once her leg is fully recovered, we will need both of you to come back to the main convoy. We cannot spare too much people. We don't know where the red Templars are and, unlike the Herald and Solas, the main convoy will hardly go unnoticed."

His words were welcomed by four threatening eyes. He endured the glares with surprise as Leliana and Varric giggled silently. Mahariel was even certain that the rogues high-fived in their backs. The meeting was soon dismissed.

Ma lasa ghilan - You guide them