A Haven from Helplessness

Haven was...a bit of a mess, actually.

The town was even more overcrowded than when we had left several weeks ago, for one thing. Varric found me at one point to complain that he was now sharing quarters with a soldier. I was only half listening, but I told him he could be paired with someone he knew better, like Solas or Sera, and that quieted him - whether because he liked the idea or hated it, I wasn't certain.

Sera and Blackwall were welcomed and given quarters (shared with other people). Cassandra spoke well of both of them, at least as it pertained to their skills on the battlefield. Her comments regarding Sera's personal qualities were...less flattering. "She makes me laugh," I told Leliana, Josephine, and Cullen with a shrug. "I won't ask to take her on any diplomatic missions."

"Don't entirely discount the possibility," Josephine told me lightly. "Very occasionally, offending is superior to ingratiating - and, even more occasionally, power falls out of hands that have traditionally held it and into those who would look at aristocratic niceties as an affront."

"Good to know," I replied. "I'm glad we have a possible solution tucked away for contingencies." I also thought Josephine hadn't yet met Sera, and might change her mind once she had.

They handed me several letters that needed my personal attention at the end of the meeting, including one from Deshanna acting in her role as Keeper. It was carefully worded to give the impression I had been sent to the Conclave rather than sneaking off and running away - which was what had happened. Scouts must have tracked me there, eventually. I hadn't dared leave a note with even a whisper of my intentions. I could use magic to obscure my trail, but I didn't move fast and had therefore counted on the hunters' efforts remaining unfocused for a while in order to get away.

Likely I should have sent Maela word as soon as it became clear I was no longer a prisoner - I had had days of free time before being sent to the Hinterlands. I hadn't been - still wasn't - quite sure what to say, though. Should I apologize? Air grievances? Tell her that if she and the clan continued to insist on treating me as a child, I wasn't coming back?

That would be a bit misleading considering that I already knew I couldn't go back. Even a few weeks of others placing a reasonable degree of trust in my competence had changed everything, most especially me. If I ever had to go back to that stifling life -

Rage ignited. Smoldered. I put the thought away quickly.

Solas found me the next day, sitting on a rock overlooking the frozen lake, still trying to decide what to say. I wanted to deal with my clan before anything else, because it would be easy to get wrapped up in the demands of acting as the Creators-damned Herald with all the travel and battle it entailed, and Maela didn't deserve to be left wondering for many more long weeks. But I needed to decide quickly - one of the other letters was an invitation to visit an important mage placed highly within the Orlesian court, and Josephine was practically salivating over the chance to gain such an ally.

Solas seated himself a little distance away, likewise looking out over the lake, and I remembered we were supposed to talk about the piece of magic I had unexpectedly employed. He had flirted with me - maybe - about it.

"Is this a bad time?" he asked. "You appear preoccupied."

Usually just the memory of his words would have made me blush, but I was too bound up in anxiety for that today. I sighed, and all at once I needed someone to talk to. Maybe I didn't know Solas well in reality, but I remembered so many moments with him - I trusted him.

"I have a dilemma," I told him, burying my anger a little more deeply. I didn't want it coming out now. "I mentioned frustration with my clan. My vallaslin."

"Were you cast out?" he asked, sounding both faintly horrified and somehow satisfied.

"No, no - of course not!" I answered, somewhat horrified myself. "Maela would never - it's not my fault." I swallowed. "At least according to her. It's just, without completed vallaslin, I can't be an adult within the clan. It's untenable to apprentice me to someone, especially the Keeper, I can't court, or - or choose a bondmate. I can't do...well, anything." The anger threatened to break free, and I shoved it back down. "It's been this way for nearly a decade," I finished in a low voice. "She says she is looking for a solution, but nothing ever changes."

He was too far away for me to read his expression, and so I kept my eyes fixed on the blur of icy blue that I knew was the frozen surface of the lake. "Forgive me," he said at last. "I am struggling not to express with too much force how appalling I find the idea of any reasonable adult being relegated to the role of a child merely for the failure of a worthless spell meant to bind one to gods who have not spoken in ages, and might never have existed in the form described by myths at all. You deserved better."

"I did - I do," I agreed. "The trouble is...I still love her. And I know she loves me."

He was quiet for a moment. "Would she be pleased to know you were happy, even away from your clan?"

"I...don't know," I confessed. I hoped so.

Though I half expected him to react with disbelief - hadn't I just claimed she loved me? - he only said: "Then that seems a logical place to begin. If you tell her of how full your life has become, it seems to me her response will tell you a great deal. With better information, you may find it easier to decide how to proceed."

I closed my eyes and let out a long breath. "Yes - ma serannas. That is a very good strategy. I should have thought of it."

"Complicated feelings often seem to demand complicated answers," he said, "and it's easier to identify simple solutions from outside. If you would prefer to write your response now, we can defer our conversation until later."

"No," I said quickly. "You're already here - having to look for you again later, especially since I see so poorly, would be...inefficient.

"I don't believe I thanked you for rescuing me," he said by way of agreement. "Thank you."

"That is what fighting as a team means, isn't it?" I shrugged. "Watching out for each other."

"And it was on precisely that subject I wished to speak to you," he said. "Though the knowledge has been lost, long ago among my people there were mages known as raj'panathe - masters of battle," he told me. "They commanded battle mages, but were also skilled in disciplines that allowed them to control the flow of battle itself. Among them, a technique similar to that you employed - moving warriors to the places they are needed, or away from imminent danger."

"How do you know of this?" I asked.

"I mentioned, did I not, that I have watched many battles within the Fade - some of them ancient," he reminded me. "I believe you could learn this discipline, or parts of it."

"Perhaps," I allowed, "except that I would make a poor battle master when I cannot actually see the flow of battle."

"Your ability to see the Veil is extraordinary, but you rely too much on that sense," he told me. "There are other ways of knowing the world and the people who move through it. The only one of our companions you may have trouble with is Varric - but perhaps his very blankness will be sufficient to draw your attention if you train yourself for it. Though your inability to differentiate between him and other dwarves may admittedly cause problems later. In that case, we may have to take up Sera's suggestion of bright colors. I doubt Master Tethras will object. Not strenuously, at any rate."

I couldn't even tell whether he was joking about the colors. He seemed entirely serious about the rest. And the thought was intriguing. "All right," I agreed, "how do I begin?"

"As you already have," he replied, "by reaching through the Fade and performing a kind of inverted Fade step. The next task is to hone that skill."

He rose and beckoned me to come with him.

We practiced until midday. Solas led me to a clear area out of sight - I thought - of Haven's walls. He told me as we walked that, eventually, he would have me focus on smaller objects - it would be useful if I could, for instance, steal a sword from the hand of an enemy attacking me. For now, though, he tasked me with moving him , and directing the movement consciously to different points around the field. Drawing him to my position was easier, but much less useful, especially as he had landed on top of me the one time I had done it and we had both fallen over.

Solas wasn't an easy teacher. Not unkind - endlessly patient - but utterly relentless. He demanded that my intention and the result line up precisely, insisting that anything else was too great a point of potential weakness to be allowed to persist. I had never been careless in my casting, taking a certain aesthetic pleasure in neatness and efficiency, but Solas seemed to think it meant I was capable of more. Better. Perfection - or the next thing to it.

I wasn't certain, especially at first, whether I was intimidated or fascinated by the challenge. In anything other than magic, I likely would have broken down in tears after my first few minor successes were deemed insufficient. But this was magic, a subject I had more confidence in than most, and so when Solas demanded better, I swallowed the sting and tried again. And again. And again. And - soon I was chasing precision without his urging, able to see where I was going wrong even if I didn't yet have the skill to be as good as I wanted to be.

By the time the bell in Haven rang to call the soldiers to the mess for a meal, I was utterly depleted, covered in half-frozen sweat, and, for some reason, my muscles were shaking as though I had spent all those hours practicing with my staff. Or, more accurately, someone else's much heavier staff - I was accustomed to the weight of mine and it didn't leave me this tired.

"You have made progress," Solas told me with a nod, his tone reserved but holding a note of real approval.

"I know," I replied, finding, to my surprise, that I didn't need his approval. At least not when it came to magic. "If - if you'll give me a day or two to practice this, I'll enchant a rock or something of that sort - make it visible from a distance - so you don't have to spend hours out here helping me. I can let you know when I feel I have gained sufficient mastery to move on to a new step."

He came to my side and offered me his arm to return to Haven, and I saw he was smiling. "My time would be well spent in helping you, but I would by no means stifle your independent pursuit of skill and knowledge. Find me when you are ready."

I found myself smiling in return. "I will."