AN: Aili Awkward Nerd struggles with the realization that her feelings for the Inquisition's Fade expert might not be strictly platonic.

Rated: K

Aili was famished, but for once she had wanted to be alone, and this had been her first chance to slip away from her companions in three days of traveling. They all wanted to hover over her, poking at her to make sure she was still herself and giving her disappointed frowns about allying with the mages. They were good people, but Mythal's mercy, all she wanted was a bit of quiet to collect herself. The sleeping woods were beautiful and still, and she refused to let the angry gurgling in her belly ruin it for her.

She heard the footsteps approaching long before their owner reached the little stream she had come to sit by to gather her thoughts. Unconcerned, she pulled off her boots, dipped her feet in the cool water and continued to hum quietly to herself as though she was unaware of her intruder. Their steps were light, but a Dalish hunter moved as silently as a shadow through the forest, and her closest friend growing up was the best scout in their clan. Daewyn had always liked sneaking up on her, trying to see how high he could make her jump. He'd even shot the water buckets she'd been toting out of her hands once or twice just to make her scream. He had seen to it that she was constantly aware of any strange sounds out in the forest, lest she ended up getting pushed into a pond or pelted with a clod of dirt. He had been a laughing, charming, over-confident, pain in her backside, and Creators help her, but she missed his stupid ass.

The events at Redcliffe had thrown her. Ever since Cassandra and her Maker-loving cronies had roped Aili and her creepy glowing Fade-hand into joining the Inquisition, she had pretty much just been making things up as she went along. Creators alone knew why, but people kept asking her to make decisions, expecting her to be capable of fixing everything from finding blankets for refugees to closing that great sodding tear in the sky; it was like she had suddenly become Keeper for all of southern Thedas. She couldn't exactly tell them 'no', so…she had mostly begun trusting her gut and hoping for the best. Thus far, it seemed to be working fairly well, but then some crazy grief-stricken magister had decided to rip a hole in time and chuck her and some snarky mustachioed shem into the future.

And what a future it had been. Darkness, death, and the acrid stench of fear had engulfed all there was like a hungry maw. Rifts and demons were everywhere, red lyurim growing out of the walls, out of people; it had been horrific beyond words. The stuff of nightmares—literally. And the worst part was that it was still a possibility.

She had tried to shake it off like a bad dream, but she hadn't just seen it, she had lived it. All of it. And it was real. Leliana had been cut down to defend her, not even knowing if Dorian's spell would work. Varric and Solas had both been dragged into the main hall of the castle, limp and bloody, their broken bodies tossed at her feet. Solas had stared up at her blankly, his dead eyes still glowing red with the tainted lyrium's corruption, eyes that should have been blue and intelligent and kind. Eyes which sometimes smiled at her even when his mouth did not. Eyes that looked at her and made her feel…

Aili shook her head furiously. Getting some silly little infatuation when the whole world was going to the Void? This was why she needed Daewyn here. He would have laughed her out of her folly and given her a kick in the ass to get her back into the fray and helping people. Mythal save her if he ever learned that she'd gone all calf-eyed over some bald, soft-spoken scholar. She'd never hear the end of it.

The footsteps halted close behind her and there was a faint rustling of cloth, as though the man was shifting his stance slightly as he considered what to say. She knew who it was without even looking. There were other members of the Inquisition who could most likely see through her poor attempts at being cheerful, but most of them were content to give her a concerned glance and go back to feigning ignorance. Only one of them would have followed her out here to make sure she was all right.

"Aneth ara, Hahren," she said softly, feeling the heat rising in her face. "Come to check on me?"

"You have been gone for quite some time, Da'len," Solas informed her quietly, the faintest trances of concern bleeding through his calm demeanor. "The evening meal has long since been served. And, you must pardon me for saying so, but since the incident at Redcliffe, you…have not been yourself."

"Meaning I haven't been pestering you every hour of the day," Aili said with a thin, rueful smile. "I thought you would appreciate a break from my constant babbling."

"You do not babble," Solas insisted, sounding a bit surprised. She gave him a disbelieving glance as he sat down beside her. "…often," he conceded.

"You question, you wonder, you show interest in topics most would be afraid of or choose to forget because the truth of our world is a difficult and complicated thing," he said. "This is nothing to be ashamed of, and I am sorry if I have ever made you feel the need to apologize for it. If I appear distant, it is because…it has simply been a long time since anyone has actively sought out my company, but I find it is a welcome change. I enjoy our discussions."

"You do?" she asked, clearly astonished at the thought. He huffed in amusement.

"I would not pursue them otherwise," Solas told her with an encouraging grin. He was silent for a moment, his deep blue eyes searching her face for something. "I fear our conversation this evening must be a bit less pleasant than usual, however. Will you tell me what is troubling you, Da'len?"

"I'm just…" Aili trailed away for a moment, staring down at her bare toes as she wiggled them in the water, she had blisters from those boots they kept forcing her into. She looked back over at him. "You're always so composed, so sure of yourself…I know we've only known each other a few months, but even with mages and templars setting the world on fire and demons literally falling from the sky, I've never seen you be afraid of anything. Not once. How do you do it?"

"Would running around screaming have resolved any of our troubles?" he asked with a hint of playfulness. She snorted.

"That's not what I meant." Aili frowned and glanced away from him. "I'm the First to a Keeper. I was supposed to be good at this sort of thing. Taking care of people, being strong for them…I guess I just thought I'd be better at it, this whole…'being a hero' thing."

"You give yourself too little credit," Solas assured her. "Considering the circumstances, you have handled yourself admirably thus far. As to being afraid, it is perfectly normal. And…"

"And?" she asked, curious to see how he would end his thought.

"And you are young," he told her with a faint smile and a slight shrug of his shoulders. She turned her face away from him, flushed and scowling.

The thought that he regarded her as little more than a child filled her with a petulant sort of indignation, but she bit her tongue and said nothing. It was one thing to call her 'Da'len', it was a bit of an endearing joke between them, but this was something else entirely. She folded her arms across her chest, closing herself off from him. She realized that pouting like this was somewhat proving his point, but the words had stung.

He touched her shoulder lightly, seeing how his words had affected her and trying to be consoling. When she glared back at him, his eyes shone with amusement and one eyebrow had quirked mischievously.

"I did not say it was a bad thing," he reminded her.

"You didn't say it was a good thing either," she pointed out peevishly. He laughed.

"A touch of both, perhaps," Solas said with a grin, tilting his head slightly to one side. "To be afraid of your adversary and to fight them regardless of that fear is an act of bravery, and facing this world with your heart bared, to freely express both compassion and grief, is a courageous thing which few are capable of. Though perhaps the latter has more to do with the strength of your spirit than your youth. You are a rare person indeed."

Aili felt the heat radiating from the base of her neck all the way to the tips of her pointed ears, and imagined that she must strongly resemble a raspberry. Giddy with a pleased sort of embarrassment and smiling like a fool, she opened and closed her mouth repeatedly, trying to think of what to say.

Taking note of this reaction and realizing what it meant, Solas frowned slightly, his brow furrowing. His eyes darted away from her as though he had said more than he meant to. He rose abruptly and took a step back towards the denser part of the forest.

"Come," he said brusquely, the slight color rising across his cheeks belying his stoicism, "We should return to camp. The others will be missing us." She reached out and snagged his coat without thinking, not wanting the moment to end just yet. Her mind scrabbled for what she could say to make him linger.

"I saw you die," Aili blurted out, the declaration catching in her throat. She was mortified by the outburst, but it seemed to have the desired effect. Solas was standing stock still, as if awaiting an explanation. The words tumbled from her before she thought better of it, "You'd been kept in a cell, and the red lyrium had been poisoning you for a year, but you still died protecting me, fighting to give me a chance to come back. I got you killed. I failed you. I failed everyone. And I didn't even know if Dorian's plan would work, or if we'd get trapped in some other timeline and I wouldn't be able to save you and…" She trailed away, staring up at him with wide frightened eyes, feeling like an idiot. He blinked down at her in amazement.

She bit her lip and released him, wishing she had a hole to disappear into right about now. She twisted her fingers together nervously as the silence stretched between them uncomfortably. Solas knelt in front of her, placing one hand over both of hers, stilling their agitated movements.

"My safety is hardly worth such concern," he told her gently.

"But…at Haven," she mumbled, staring down at where their hands touched. "When you decided to stay with the Inquisition…I promised I'd protect you."

"I never expected your vow to be so…thorough," he replied, sounding distinctly amused.

Aili ducked away from him and said nothing. She had never actively pursued a man before. She had never had an interest and, as far as she could tell, no one had ever had an interest in her. Sure, she had gotten a lingering glance or two on the infrequent occasions when they ran into another clan, but it never went farther than that. Everyone knew that she and Daewyn were close, and there had been…expectations. And yet, as much as she loved him, Daewyn's words had never caused this paralyzing mixture of ecstasy and fear that she was experiencing now. He had never made her heart thunder in her ears just by being near her, or smiling at her, or laughing at one of her dumb jokes. He had never been more than family.

Solas was different. Not just different from the Dalish, but from any elf, and for that matter, any man she had ever met. He was patient with her, always steady, always calm; he reminded her of her Keeper, a comparison which would have rankled him, no doubt. Despite this, he was also capable of playfulness, though his own laughter always seemed like it surprised him. His companionship had become a haven in the mad whirlwind her life had suddenly been tossed into. He was careful and compassionate and kind, and she couldn't help hoping that he saw something in her worthy of his admiration.

Solas squeezed her hands gently to get her attention. The expression on his face was guarded, uncertain.

"There…was a moment," he said in a low gruff voice, "after Alexius used the amulet…There were scorch marks on the floor, and you were nowhere to be seen, and I assumed that you were… I was afraid." He looked her straight in the eye, and his gaze was sincere and tinged with a slight air of lingering worry. She wondered what would happen if she dared to lean forward, if she just…

Her stomach rumbled loudly, demanding her attention and breaking the spell of the moment. Solas laughed.

"Come, Lethallan, we should find you something to eat," he said, still chuckling as he rose to his feet once more.

"Lethallan?" she repeated, sounding a bit shocked.

"It was…presumptuous of me to treat you as a child," he told her. "You are not, and I should not call you so." He caught her eye and grinned, "Besides, we are friends, are we not?"

"Yes," she replied, forcing a smile, but cringing inwardly at the word 'friends'. "I suppose we are. Lead the way, Lethallin."