Bored.

Realism

I dreamt of Solas that night for the first time since the disaster at the Conclave. In my dream, he shape-changed into a great wolf and sat, watching, as I spoke with the spirits that had surrounded him earlier in the day. When I approached to ask him if this was another true dream - if he could work such magic outside of the Fade - he turned from me and disappeared too quickly for me to follow.

It was cryptic, but didn't bother me - not all my dreams of him involved sharing knowledge, experiences, laughter, or even conversation.

In recent years, one of us had occasionally kissed the other.

But at other times they were short, ambiguous, or outright confusing. Sometimes other people were in the dreams, and sometimes those people angered him. Sometimes he completely ignored me, and I wasn't certain whether he couldn't see me, or simply chose not to.

In any case, I was glad I hadn't ceased dreaming of him, and I had enjoyed talking with the spirits, so I was in a buoyant mood as we rode from Val Royeaux.

It didn't - couldn't - last beyond the day, not with everything going wrong in the world. According to the missives Cassandra had received from Leliana, things were deteriorating in the Hinterlands, so that was where we were going, without a stop for Haven. The fighting between mages and templars needed to end before we could meet with Fiona, and Josephine still wanted us to make contact with a man named Dennet. It seemed our horses weren't sufficient for the Inquisition's needs. Leliana also wanted us to hunt down a Grey Warden said to be recruiting in the area. There was a great deal to be done.

Sera quickly proved her worth in battle on the road - Orlais was rapidly descending into civil war, apparently, leaving the roads unprotected when travelers weren't actively being preyed on by one side or the other - and I was pleased I had recruited her. She seemed to have had some bad experiences with the Dalish, though. I knew enough of other clans to be aware that some were deeply prejudiced against the elves who had "capitulated" to human rule, ignoring that such decisions were generations in the past and none of us had chosen where to be born.

After a day or two of little jabs that I interpreted as her testing me to see how I would react to the differences in our upbringing, I asked her to help me cut up some herbs and roots Solas had found for our evening stew pot and pulled her a little aside. "Sera," I said as we worked, "you know we don't...need to believe all the same things, or share all the same experiences, to be allies. We don't even need it to become friends. And I know that."

She was silent for a moment. "I'm not elfy and I don't wanna be elfy. Not jealous of your clan and - and all the shite you think you know. Not gonna be ashamed of how I live or grew up or anything."

I shrugged. "Why would you be? You're here, aren't you? I am, too. Can we just...let that be enough?"

There was another long moment of silence as she considered the proposal. "Guess it's fair, innit? Besides, you're not going back, yeah?"

"I...can't, really," I admitted.

"Well, that's fine, then. You're good."

I wasn't quite certain what my return to my clan - or not - had to do with anything, but she had agreed to leave our histories aside, and that was enough. At least for the moment.

The five of us did good work once we arrived back in the Hinterlands. Cassandra took Varric and Sera to harry the templars and draw them off while Solas and I hunted down where the mages were hiding. I had used cosmetics to cover my vallaslin , and there was no telltale hint of magic threatening to give away my secret, so the mages believed Solas and I were joining them. Until we started killing them, of course. Mages were easy to see against the Veil, especially when they began casting, and though the fight wasn't easy, we were rested, fully stocked up on potions, and had surprise on our side.

We killed all who didn't flee.

Then Solas and I went back to join the other three, falling on the templars from behind. They, too, appeared to be much the worse for wear, and as Cassandra seemed disinclined to let any of them survive, none did. "The things they have done," she muttered after, consumed by cold fury. Varric silently handed me a letter they had found on a dead hunter detailing some of the horrors he had witnessed. "This is my fault," she continued as I skimmed the page, my stomach knotting at murders he recounted - of herbalists, farmers, children, even - some of the murders including rape as the victims died. "Had the Seekers exercised better oversight of the templars - "

"This is everyone's fault, Seeker," Varric told her, unwontedly serious as I returned the letter to him. I heard the twang of a bowstring, followed by the sound of an arrow piercing flesh, and realized Sera must have read the letter, too. It seemed she was venting her ire on the corpses of the templars we had already killed. "Except maybe the Dalish," he allowed. "Everything Blondie did was wrong - but what keeps me up at night is whether he was right, too. Everything was so impossible to change that we just kept ignoring the worst of it while we tinkered around the edges. What if blowing up the whole thing was the only way?"

"I...don't want to believe that," she said.

"Neither do I," he sighed. "Believe me - neither do I."

"To oversee the templars more strictly, you would have needed more Seekers," Solas said. "In accepting those who could not pass the sort of trial you overcame, the quality would have suffered. The Seekers would then have abused templars as templars abused mages - and likely made the templar abuses against mages worse, as they took out their powerlessness on the only people available. That is the way power in the hands of the corrupt flows down to contaminate everyone below. And any sufficiently large organization is rife with corruption."

Cassandra sighed. "You are a pessimist, Solas."

"I am a realist, Seeker," he retorted.

"I am more concerned about what we will do moving forward," I told them both. "In order to close the Breach, we may have to end this war, and if the Inquisition ends the war, everyone is going to want our input on what happens next."

"And what do you think should happen?" Cassandra asked a little stiffly.

I held up my hands in a gesture of helplessness. "Me? Why would you think I have any ideas? I'm a Dalish savage and this is a largely human affair. When I said we, it was only in recognition of the reality that you and the other Inquisition leaders will likely need my help in pursuing any course you choose. I won't help rebuild a manifestly unjust system, but I'm open to being persuaded into nearly anything that looks better than what was in place before."

"Not going to demand a Dalish model?" Varric teased.

"Wouldn't work," I told him. "Elves have a long tradition of revering magic, only reinforced during our history as slaves in Tevinter. The Dalish have carried on that tradition unbroken. Trying to introduce it to humans and city elves at this stage would never succeed. Besides, the only reason clans hold together as well as they do is because of the outside threat of alienages and Circles. That and close kinship bonds, I suppose, because there are so few of us."

"I confess," Cassandra said, surprise evident in her voice, "I had not expected such a... pragmatic view of Dalish society from one raised within a clan."

"You have heard too many city elves romanticizing the Dalish," I told her. "I was being groomed to become a Keeper, for a while, until the failure of my vallaslin. I am a mage - there was no other choice available to me. That meant I had to understand what holds a clan together and what might fracture us to pieces. Besides, there is no room for romance in living as one of the Dalish, only the struggle to survive and hold on to whatever scraps of history we can. That is more especially the case when - "

I realized what I was about to say and managed to bite it off, even as anger thrilled through me.

I took a careful breath, and the tide of my anger receded somewhat. "The Dalish aren't perfect, and are a model for very little beyond stubborn survival," I said carefully, unwilling to openly air my grievances in front of a group of non-Dalish, even one that included Solas. "I...had frustrations that were not easily overcome."

"Hmm," Cassandra hummed quietly, speculatively, and I looked away, not certain I wanted to know what she was thinking. Solas was standing near enough that I saw him pull his gaze from me as I turned mine from Cassandra, and I thought he looked...almost impressed?

I couldn't be certain - he wasn't that close - but it was...interesting.

When we had finished cleaning up the templars near the hills where the Warden was supposedly lurking, Cassandra suggested that finding him should be our next piece of business. As it was getting too late in the day to go on to Redcliffe anyway, I agreed, and we wended our way into the hills and found a good spot to camp beside a pretty lake. Varric stayed behind to make a meal and perhaps put up some of our tents while the rest of us went on.

Sera had been quiet since our slaughter of the templars, and I fell back to walk with her. She offered her arm without my needing to ask, and I smiled my thanks. "It bothered you - hearing what they had done," I observed.

"'Course. Bothered everyone, right? Even Varric. Mages aren't better, though - don't think that. Different - but still big people stepping on little people," she said.

"I understand," I replied.

Her gaze was sharp. "Do you?" she demanded, but then her eyes softened a little. "Yeah, maybe you do - a bit," she decided. "You're not like some of 'em, anyway - the elfy elves. Can admit living out in the woods is a bit shite."

"It's a bit shite when the weather is decent," I laughed. "It's utter shite the moment it starts raining." I didn't mind walking in the rain so much, but working in it was another matter, and when the alternatives were that or spending all my time in a cramped aravel...well. It wasn't as though the Dalish held up wandering in the woods as the pinnacle of existence. It was a necessity. We remembered The Dales, where we had been free to live and build as we pleased, with longing.

Sera laughed, too. "I bet, right? 'Specially for you. No roads in the wild."

I couldn't deny it - she was right about that.

We found the Warden right where he was supposed to be, though he seemed more interested in training farm boys to fight bandits than in actually recruiting them. We helped drive off a bandit attack. Or, rather, my companions helped; I did little beyond keeping a barrier up, unable to see normal, human combatants with any kind of sight available to me. After, we listened, perplexed, as the Warden sent the farmers back to their parents' fields. Then Cassandra and I questioned him.

His name was Blackwall, and he knew nothing of any use, but he did ask to help us against the Breach. He seemed capable and Cassandra had no objections, so I invited him back to our camp. He had his own tent, thankfully - worn but serviceable. I had already given Sera mine and I would have hated asking someone else to either share or join me in sleeping by the fire. Blackwall volunteered for the first watch, too, after Varric treated him to a recounting of our exploits that day, and I think all of us were tired enough to appreciate it.

The next morning, we finally ventured into the heavily farmed area surrounding Redcliffe. Since it was on the way, we stopped in to speak with Dennet, hoping for an easy resolution to the Inquisition's lack of horses - but naturally it was more complicated than that. Even with the mages and templars subdued, the area was apparently far from peaceful. Between bandits, wolves, and Fade rifts vomiting up demons, Dennet couldn't spare enough people to take his horses even the few hours to Haven.

"Look," Blackwall said as we regrouped on the road, "your negotiation with the mages sounds urgent. I can't do anything about rifts, but bandits? I know bandits. Let me go mark the places for watchtowers while the rest of you go on to Redcliffe."

"Alone?" Cassandra asked. "That isn't safe."

"I'm used to working alone," he insisted.

"I don't wanna deal with no mages," Sera put in, her distaste evident in her voice. "I'll stay with Beardy."

Cassandra, who stood next to me, was close enough for us to exchange a glance. I shrugged. "He won't be alone. And they could set up camp while we're gone."

"Varric, would you be willing - " Cassandra began.

The dwarf held up his hands in a gesture of denial even I could see. "And miss these historic negotiations? I don't think so, Seeker."

"What do you care for negotiations? You just want some time in a town, especially one that might have a tavern," Solas muttered.

"Well...that, too, Chuckles," Varric agreed easily.

"Oo, buy me a bottle of something good," Sera instructed. "Or - something that'll get me drunk quick, anyway."

"Any more requests?" Varric asked, looking at Blackwall.

"Only if everyone is having some, but I'm not picky," the Warden replied.

"We're not stopping at a tavern," Cassandra said, rolling her eyes.

"Never say never, Seeker!" Varric replied.