Chapter Five - The Little Herald's Detour To Making Solas and Varric Regret their Life
She had a dream she was back in the barracks, under those blankets that itched the longer she lay under them, on the bunk bed that always squeaked when she sat on it. The sounds of the other children sleeping were a quiet background noise, and she could see from the small window in the wall where the stars were, among the towering brick walls and spires. The Crows had a habit of moving their sleeping quarters every couple months, but it was nights like this when all was quiet and things felt safe enough, that Velasco let herself settle down and enjoy her time for what it was. So often she found her time slipping away to missions and assignments these days—she missed her training days where she could almost trick herself into some semblance of relaxation.
And then her master would break into the room with a heavy lantern in her hands, ordering them to all wake-up. They would start the day all over again and train until every part of Velasco ached, her back was soaked with sweat, and her lungs burned. It was all worth it though because one-day training meant another safe night spent without having to look over her shoulder, as she had to on days she took missions.
"Living… hurts…" Velasco groaned, reaching a hand up to stop the throbbing in her head. Her hand caught on the sheet pinning her into her bed, and she felt… cotton? She opened her eyes and immediately regretted it. "Make it stop."
"I'm afraid I won't do that, Da'len." Solas pressed a cold cloth to her forehead and looked down at her as she groaned. "I see your head is still hurting. That would be the concussion."
"Great. Thanks." She squinted at her surroundings and let the cloth fall over her eyes. "Can it get any brighter? Che palle! Who let the sun in?"
She heard him rise from his chair and walk away from her, wooden floorboards creaking slightly until eventually, the room grew a bit darker. He returned a moment later. "Better?"
Velasco sunk a bit lower into her bed. It smelt like fresh soap and flowers. "I'm dead and in the afterlife, aren't I?"
She pushed the cloth back into her forehead and saw him lean back in his chair and chuckle. "What makes you say that?"
"There's no way-" she pulled the covers up to her chin and let her hair fan out around her. She felt clean and… cared for. "-something like this is real. If you're a demon or something, gimme five more minutes before you eat my soul, mmkay?"
Solas fixed her with a measured state. "I worry you're being serious."
"Oh, I'm very serious." She turned over so her face was firmly stuffed into her pillow. It was made of real feathers! This was definitely a dream. "I didn't realize soul-sucking felt so soft….."
Her pillow was pulled from under her a moment later. "I could explain to you all the ways in which you're wrong but it'd be time better spent seeing how out of sorts you are. What's the last thing you remember?"
"Proving you wrong," she said smugly, propping herself up with her arms. Her cloth fell onto the mattress with a wet thump, and she found that someone had changed her out of her leather crow armor and into a pale green nightgown. She frowned. "How long have I been here?"
Solas frowned, resting her pillow on his lap as he leaned back into his chair. "Three days."
She groaned something Antivan and his frown deepened, which she ignored. "So the mark hasn't swallowed me whole, hm? How kind of it."
He looked like he wanted to say something, but didn't know how. "Yes… it seems to be stable for now…"
A door opened to her right. A tall and bony elf walked in with a crate in her arms and promptly dropped it seeing that Velasco had woken up. "O-Oh! I didn't know you were awake-"
"It's alright," said Solas, giving her a moment to collect her broken healing supplies. "I've got this."
She mentioned Cassandra and orders and the. promptly fled back out the door. Varric peeked his head in a moment later. "Is it true? The kid's awake?"
Solas raised an eyebrow at him "How long have you been eavesdropping?"
"Long enough." The dwarf approached the end of Velasco's bed and shot her a warm smile. He looked like he hasn't slept in a while. "Welcome to the afterlife, sweetpea."
"Don't encourage her..."
"So, ghost-Varric, do they serve food in the afterlife or do we just starve?" Velasco sat up in her bed and drew her legs underneath her nightgown. "Apparently I haven't eaten in three days."
"If you were dreaming you wouldn't feel hunger…" Solas said, looking like he deeply wanted to explain the inner workings of the fade but Varric didn't let him.
"I'm pretty sure the tavern's cooking lunch about now. Want me to grab you something?"
Velasco started climbing out of bed but wobbled once her feet hit the floor. Solas caught her arm, and quickly released her once she got her balance. She looked down at her bare legs. "Whoa… where are my pants."
"And that's where I take my leave." Varric quickly turned on his heel and marched back out the door, throwing a quick 'I hope you like gruel!' Over his shoulder before the door swung shut after him.
"I do not like gruel."
"I see. Well, if you're feeling well enough to stand…" Solas rose from his chair and put her pillow back her bed. "There's a change of clothes in the dresser over there that should fit you. Understandably, finding something that would fit proved a bit of a problem, but I've been told they're a gift from some of the locals. I'll wait outside while you change ."
"Thanks."
The green nightgown wasn't her color. There was a large red blouse with her name on it in the drawer and she took it out, but it reached past her knees when she put it on. Taking a belt (good for all situations, it seemed) she tucked the edges into her pants after she pulled some on. The effect was something to be desired— the blouse ballooned out at the end and made her look like some sort of… red mushroom with a head and arms. She untucked one side of the shirt, letting it fall, and left the other half tucked in. There.
With only half a mushroom shirt, Velasco nodded to herself and walked towards the door, pleased that she didn't stumble or feel dizzy for the moment. She made it two steps outside and saw the snow on the ground and sun shining up above before she saw Solas. She wanted to get her things back from Leliana before someone ended up trashing them—or worse, searching her assassin gear too closely.
It was five steps out the door that she noticed the large crowd of people staring at her. Immediately, she froze.
"There she is, that's the Herald!"
"The what." Velasco felt a hundred pairs of eyes on her and willed her hands to stay still—without her permission, her hands clenched and began to shake.
"The Herald of Andraste!"
"Who-?!" Velasco searched for the person who said that her eyes narrowed. With so much attention on her, she felt a chill go down her spine.
Solas seemed to take note of her anxiety and stepped between her and the crowd. "Da'len, are you alright?"
"That's the one who stopped the breach from getting bigger!"
"Our hero! Look, there she is!"
"Herald, how are you after killing that pride demon?"
"Did she really that that? How brave!"
"I'm fine," she lied, taking a step backward. It was too much—way too much. Velasco was used to living in the shadows and avoiding attention; it had been drilled into her that this many eyes meant danger, detection, death. This was so wrong.
"—erald of Andraste! Came out of the fade and everything! Blessed by the maker, I tell you!"
"Where are her parents?"
"Poor thing looks like she's about to faint-"
"Velasc-" Solas watched in dismay as she turned on her heel and quickly slammed the door behind her.
A second later, amongst the rumblings of the crowd, Solas could hear a glass breaking and hurried inside.
The cabin was empty. Solas pulled the covers off her bad and found nothing there—her wardrobe was empty, save for the clothes he had told her about and her nightgown. How could she just disappear? Solas ran a hand over his head and turned around, looking for any place she could have hidden—
Then, a cold draft of air got his attention, and he saw that the window had been broken open.
"Velasco!" The window was just barely big enough for him to squeeze through—large enough for a child of her size—and his feet hit the snow a second later. "What are you doing?"
She froze at the sound of her name, stricken, halfway up on the next door neighboring cabin's roof. "Um. Going to get my things?"
"Get down from there!" Solas stood and watched her climb higher until she was completely on top of the roof with no intention of coming down. "You still have a concussion—what if you fell?"
"Then I wouldn't have to worry about it?" She scampered up the side of the building to avoid being spotted by the crowd, eyeing the thick fence constructed behind their cabins, until she eventually came to a gap where the next cabin stood.
Solas gasped and climbed over a series of barrels between the cabin and the fence. Nobody was really meant to walk behind these houses—most of it was bulky storage and firewood, hard objects that definitely did not make a fall easier. The side of the roof was encased in ice as the young crow gauged the distance, and he watched a steely resolve formed in her eyes.
"Do not jump-"
She jumped.
"Fenedhis-"
Solas cast a last minute barrier around her, but Velasco didn't seem to need it. She stuck the landing despite the icy roof and danced across the side of the building like it was nothing.
Solas stumbled over several other crates and amenities stacked outside as he watched Velasco turn the corner. The second he had eyes on her again, she had abandoned her roof and found herself scaling the side of a tree, the same higher as the fence, and was climbing higher.
If he had hair surely it would be grey by now. "Is it really worth it, da'len?!"
He watched as she planted one foot on the thick pillars and pushed off—another glowing barrier around her, no thanks to Solas. He froze and waited for the sound of her hard landing and cries of help, but the sound never came.
"Velasco?"
Nothing. Solas abandoned his place behind the houses and sped towards the other side of the fence.
There was no sign of her on the other side. Solas turned around to try and catch sight of her head somewhere in the heavy camp but found nothing. By then the people on the other side of the fence had given up on seeing the herald and split up, spilling out into the street below.
Solas scaled the stone wall beneath the heavy wooden spikes, ignoring the eyes on him. Judging by the tips of the trees poking out from the other side…
There, by the edge, a series of small footprints in the snow indicated where she had landed. He tracked them along the side of the wall until the suddenly started going up the side of the large stone gate and disappeared on the other side.
Solas had a very bad feeling.
"Hey, there you are!" Varric stared up at him from the ground and shook his head. He had a loaf of bread and a jar of jam in his hands. "The seeker wants to see the kid. What are you doing up there?"
Solas slid down the side of the wall, tracking as far as the stone foundation went until it disappeared behind the blacksmith's shop. "There's been… a complication."
"Don't tell me you lost her."
"I… misplaced… her…" he sighed as he tried to explain. "She reacted poorly to the attention of Haven and ran. I didn't think it would be this bad."
Varric pinched the bridge of his nose. "We should've thought this through better. Do you have any idea where she might be?"
"I have a theory." Solas led him down the path and explained what happened on the way. All was fine and well until they got to the blacksmiths and found no trace of the Herald.
"She's about ye big, dark hair and brown skin, has an unhealthy obsession with knives?" Varric shook his head when none of the apprentices inside said anything. "Right, well, thanks anyway. Take some bread for your troubles."
After cutting them a slice and asking anyone else on their way down the wall, Varric was about a quarter of a loaf left before they came to a stop. The wooden wall gave way into the camp, and Solas spotted tiny snow footprints leading further into Haven.
"Whoa, where are you going?" Varric watched as the elf scaled up the side of the wall to get a better look. "That's… fine, I guess. I'll take the long way around."
If anyone had any questions on why a dwarf was running through camp and tossed a price of bread at a heavy scout, they said nothing and looked on. He rounded the corner and made his way towards the catapults, where surely The elf would have waited for him or caught the kid and—
There was nobody there.
"Figures." Varric doubled over to catch his breath and waved off the confused guard who tried to help him back up. "I'm fine—dwarves are… n-natural born sprinters…"
"If you say so ser," said the woman, clearly not believing him. She shook her head and returned to her post.
A second later, another guard showed up in a huff. "Reya, do you see that? Someone's up on the mountain!"
"Are we being invaded?!"
Varric swore out loud and turned his eyes to the nearby slope. Sure enough, a tiny black dot darted across a snow pile and up onto the rocks onlooking the chantry.
A larger dot was in pursuit.
"They get to have all the fun." And he was off, running again until he could directly see the path they were taking. The kid wasted no time in picking her destination, but Solas was hot on her heels and pissed, if his posture gave anything away as he followed after her. There was a flash of blue, a brief flare of magic, and the tiny dot was surrounded by another shield as it slid down the side of the embankment and made its way around the back of the apothecary. Varric made it by the skin of his teeth as Velasco made it to the side of the chantry, looking for a window or side entrance to break into.
"You're being completely unreasonable!"
"Whoa—Solas, tone it down a second, I…" Varric wheezed, leaning on the wall for support. "One second, I… I can't believe you both just made me run through the entire camp…"
"I'm being perfectly reasonable!" Velasco shot back, her small fists clenched by her side. She didn't seem at all bothered by the fact that she was arguing directly up, craning her head back as she stood her ground. "They think I'm the chosen one!"
"They're confused, they look to you for answers," Solas shot back. "That doesn't mean you have to scale a mountain-"
"That's exactly what it means." Velasco turned from him and walked towards a wooden buttress, directly underneath a window.
"This is not happening again!" Solas wrapped his arm around her middle before she could get too high, and pulled her off before she could get away. "Think reasonably! You're only making things more difficult for yourself."
"Let go of me!" The kid thrashed in his arms and twisted—breaking his hold and falling into the snow a second later. She turned around to face them and looked like she had been burned. "Don't ever touch me again."
"Easy, now…" Varric held up his hands to try and ease the tension between the two elves. "I think we got off on the wrong foot here. Why don't we just go back inside and settle things there-"
The kid shook her head and didn't budge. She looked close to freezing at that point, her knuckles shaking and her breath coming out in quick puffs of steam. "I need to get my things."
Solas seemed to think that it was useless, but Varric jumped at the chance to get her someplace warm; the chantry had at least seven fires burning inside for just that purpose. "Alright, well, where do you think it'll be?"
"In Leliana's room," she said quickly, as if it were the first thing she thought of. "If not there then somewhere close to where they locked me up. I don't need you to help me, just don't get in my way."
Varric shared a glance with Solas, who merely shook his head. It was settled, then. If only to help her feel better.
"If that's what it takes..."
Varric sighed, hoping it wouldn't involve any more physical labor at least until he caught his breath. Belatedly, he realized he was still holding a jar of jam, and gently placed it in the snow.
He gestured for Velasco to start moving. "Ladies first."