Chiyo kept a hand inside the pocket of her jacket. The tips of her fingers rested tentatively on the hidden canister that bounced along with the gentle motions of the trolley. It was strange, to feel more concerned over such a small, impersonal object than she was of the possessions left behind on a rented bed.
She hadn't been mugged in years. There had been a suitcase stolen once before while visiting Denerim, but Chiyo couldn't dismiss the apprehension that had followed her away from the escaped ruins. Not that there was much concern over the unfussy folk seated in the rows around her. If the wrinkled grandmother across the aisle with her deadly knitting needles wished to lighten her wallet, then by all means. They had their own lives to worry about, daily duties to perform as common as any other. Many carried empty bags that would soon bear all manner of produce. Mothers with young children in tow checked off their grocery lists. Elderly folk near to napping against the rattling windows stared out peacefully at the passing city scene.
Most of the Tevinter natives paid no heed to a lone, sightseeing elf. Chiyo did earn the occasional glance when she was caught speaking to herself in public though most interest was lost when they spotted the recorder. Tourist, she knew that word without having to think to translate in almost all of the many languages of Thedas. Most people, regardless of race, learned the common tongue alongside their native dialect. But as a whole, and outside the largest cities, several intrinsic languages were still actively used, passed down through the ages. Orlesian, Antivan, Tevene, Qunlat, Rivaini, Neverran, a traveler needed a comprehension of them all to make it far outside their given country.
She forced herself to stop fidgeting with the film when the call for the market stop was given and the trolley came to a slow, ambling halt along its tethered line. Several people stood and made for the open door before the breaks even finished squealing. Chiyo couldn't believe that some transports were still horse-powered in a few of the far-flung corners she'd visited in the last few years. Not everyone was as quick to trust the relatively newer lyrium-powered lines, but many had begun to reap the benefits once installed. The mineral was cheaper and cleaner than a host of four-legged beasts, the improved smell alone enough to convince Chiyo of their worth.
Two short steps and she was on the paved street that ran in sight of the river's enforced embankment before it dumped out into the nearby straits. Stalls stuffed with the season's summer bounty crowded nearly up to the shores where they could, pressing tightly around the permanent structures that stayed open no matter the time of year.
Through the churning crowd, she could spot some of the stone docks, remnants of a bygone era when this city had been dominated by trade centered on the contested sea. Qarnius was a watery, old municipality on a quiet decline that had been around longer than almost any other Tevinter site by the eastern coast. History permeated every weather-beaten brick beneath her feet and each layer of architecture on the facings of the storefronts. Ages-past poked their way through one another; a discerning eye could note them for the shifts in style and material, yet her goal there was not to mark the antiquity in the facades or the changes of hand in the cement.
Chiyo considered pausing there amidst the spice vendors with their dozens of glass jars all neatly lined up and labeled, the vegetable hawkers who repositioned and refreshed their stacks of leafy greens, swollen squashes and bunched roots, and the cheesemakers with their wildly wielded knives, offering up paper-thin slivers of their craft to tantalize and tempt new buyers. It would be a lovely leeway into her next piece, with readers often just as interested in the locale of her adventures as they were in her findings. But it was nigh on noon already, and a hungry, growly gut was telling her that something far more interesting than another market summary lay in store.
The film had been worth the trouble of passing off to a stranger, and she would be daft not to learn why before she gave it back.
Her eyes scanned for the yellow sign, but it was her nose that drew her closer to a pastry shop. A waft of yeast and sugar made her stomach cramp. She'd been too nervous to eat much of a breakfast, not that much was offered around the hostel where a bed and a shower were about the only amenities. Beneath the only golden signboard on the block, Chiyo pushed her way through the front door. The soft chime of a bell issued her into the appealing and narrow eatery.
"Avanna." The friendly greeting met her ear. Cakes, breads, buns covered the counter, distracting almost enough to keep her from looking first for the man she was supposed to meet. Yet the other patrons were far from being bald elves with rude regards. An elf in an apron worked the small business, but most of the others were human but for a craggy dwarf in the corner booth.
"Maybe he's running a bit late." She checked the clock on the wall, it was several minutes past. A few coins bought her a hot herbal drink and a savory little treat stuffed with melted curds and dried fruit. She broke the buttery outside with her fingers upon sitting down, the hot oils and tangy jam pooled across the cracked crust.
Chiyo pulled at a piece until the runny cheese finally broke just before it crossed her famished lips. She had to close her eyes at the delightful rush of flavors. "Why didn't I become a food critic instead…"
"Then perhaps you should try the chocolate monstrosity they hide in the kitchen."
Almost choking, Chiyo sat up straight in the spindly wooden chair, she bumped the table in her hurry, but a ready hand spared the tea a wasteful fate. "Again with the sneaking up on people!"
"Perhaps if you did not become so raptly absorbed… I walk through front doors like everyone else." She momentarily frowned while she wiped the grease on her mouth. She turned in her seat to address the chuckling man, but her harsh mood softened upon seeing him in the exact same clothes as when they'd crossed paths the day prior. Though a smile lingered from his jest it did not nullify the dark circles beneath his blue eyes or the deep sag in his shoulder beneath the weight of his bag.
"Long night?" She asked as he dropped into the open chair, waving over his shoulder at the woman behind the counter.
"One could say that." He yawned back, adjusting the wrinkled edges of his unrolled sleeves. "I've slept more amiably before. The cots in Minrathous' jails are a bit more forgiving though perhaps I'm simply becoming too old to be spending an evening behind bars."
"They arrested you?" Chiyo's dark brows knit as another cup and saucer joined what was already on the table. She could smell the rich aroma of the generously spiced coffee in his mug that wafted while the tired elf dosed it with provided sugar and cream.
After a long, careful drink the man sighed through the heat that coursed down his throat. Lengthy fingers wrapped around the handle-less cup that he held close to his face, letting the steam rise around his cleft chin. "Officially? No. I was held for questioning, in case I'd seen something that wasn't there. They even had me sign to that statement before release. With no evidence to prove anything, they couldn't charge me with more than petty trespassing. I have you to thank for that, though."
Chiyo sought her own tea and stole a chance to drink it before another opportunity came along to send it to the floor. Her hand again returned to her pocket, thumb clicking on the cylinder's side. "So what's on this film anyways?"
"Nothing." The photographer answered plainly as a decadent plate was placed before him, layer upon layer of buttery chocolate stood out between a copious drizzle of caramelized sauce. The disbelieving stare he met didn't slow the fork that brought the first obscene sliver between his teeth. He chewed, unbothered by the irked glare of the woman across the table.
"You got me to jump down a rotten ladder for nothing? That is the biggest piece of shite I have ever heard, and I used to edit tabloids." Chiyo groaned flatly, watching him eat the disgustingly sweet looking cake. The sight alone made the roof of her mouth and the back of throat feel almost tacky. "I still have splinters in my palms…"
"Your hurdle left you your recordings as well, and I didn't lose my pictures. I would deem that a fair trade for the efforts. Why need any more reason for that." He pulled the tines clean through his lips and carved out another sizable bite. "We both came away with what we wanted, best leave it at that. May I have them?"
"I don't think so. I can smell a story before I see one." Chiyo drew the film from her pocket and held it firmly in her fist. The nail on one of her fingers pushed at the protective lid, a quiet threat, but a threat all the same. Exposure would ruin the contents, it wouldn't take much to pull the negatives out and bleach them with the sun. "If you want this back you'll have to trade me an interview and I need to see what's on here."
The man was silent for a time as he consumed a few more mouthfuls of his dessert. She could see him rolling her words around in his mind. After a quick pat with a napkin, he spoke again. "You could go have that film developed yourself and get the same answer. Nothing. There is no material there that would interest you, or most others, for the matter. My pursuits are rather esoteric. They won't sell you any papers or get your name on a front page."
"Let me decide that." Chiyo shoved the film back into safe keeping. "I'm curious, you said at the temple that there was something else you wanted to show me. If you hadn't distracted me then I might have found out this information for myself. I can't go back to finish for a while, they'll be looking for me."
"You won't take no for an answer, will you?" He rubbed briefly at his temple, eyeing the cup that still steamed.
"An interview includes lunch." A smile spread across her lips. "I'll go easy, promise. How about an informal question to start?"
He shook his head in defeat as he reached once again for the rejuvenating drink. "It seems I have little choice. Ask away."
Fetching a small notepad from another pocket, Chiyo flicked through the pages to find a fresh one to add the new entrant. "What's your name? Simple enough."
"Solas." The response was cut short by a deep and draining draught.
"Solas…" Her stubby pencil stalled, waiting for him to finish. "Is there a clan affixed to that? Chiyo Lavellan, if we are introducing ourselves, that's how most people respond."
He bristled, setting the cup sharply down. "I am not Dalish, I need no such moniker."
"Alright then. Solas I'm not Dalish it is then. Is that hyphenated or not?" She fought the urge to snort as the photographer took to his feet and pushed his chair in. "Hey, where are you going?"
"Home, I'll need my dark room for this nonsense." Said Solas, already stepping towards the door.
"Wait for me!" Chiyo shoved her pad of paper back into her sleeve and wrapped what was left of the quickly cooling morsel in a napkin. She almost bolted for the exit herself, but she doubled back to leave a handful of speedily counted coins on the counter before the woman had a chance to yell.