"Jingle bell, jingle bell, jingle bell rock,

Jingle bells swing and jingle bells ring;

Snowin' and blowin' up bushels of fun,

Now the jingle hop has begun..."

Bobby Helms' lively rendition simply radiated Christmas spirit with each note. Its festive beat jingled in every corner of the mall, bouncing merrily through the spacious corridors fringed with evergreen garlands and wreaths, golden bells and holly berries, ornaments and Santa imagery–

"Jingle bell, jingle bell, jingle bell rock,

Jingle bells chime in jingle bell time;

Dancin' and prancin' in Jingle Bell Square,

In the frosty air!"

Georgia could hardly be considered a snowy state, but it did have its moments. The great blizzard of '14, for example, or the sudden snowfalls that peppered '10 and '11. Even so, winter made the air nippy, and Ahnnie felt it appropriate to wear a warm sweater though she and Solas had not yet stepped outside the Mall of Georgia. So she listened to his instructions and simply imagined–

"Wow," Ahnnie breathed as she held out her arms before her, now clothed in a soft knit wool of dark green. "This...this is amazing!" She looked down at the little reindeer embroidered over her torso and marveled at the precise lines of thread, perpetually criss-crossing. "It's all so...real!" Then she looked down at her trousers and boots, willing them to become patterned leggings and moccasins, and let out an uncharacteristically loud squeal of delight as they transformed. "Oh! Sorry," she apologized with a hand over her mouth. "I just...I just really love Christmas."

Solas smiled down upon her as he came forward and placed a hand on her shoulder. "This is simply the beginning, da'len. The Fade holds countless possibilities."

She couldn't help but giggle. "You must have had a lot of fun at the mall," she teased. "All those times, without me..."

He acknowledged the remark with a sly smile and drifted past her to pause a few steps away, voice thoughtful. "It seems I am unfamiliar with this section. I don't suppose you know the way to the Regal cinema from here?"

Ahnnie's grin widened. "Of course," she smirked, and straightened up to take the lead. "Let's see, Macy's is over there," she gestured to their left. "Soooo...we just keep going straight until we come up to Old Navy. Come on, let's go!"

"Giddy-up, jingle horse

Pick up your feet,

Jingle around the clock;

Mix and a-mingle in the jingling feet..."

She practically dragged him by the wrist as they weaved through the Christmas crowd, flitting past shop after brightly lit shop as Helm's tinny voice sang along to plucky electric accompaniments. They soon came up to JCPenney, just on the corner of Flair Boutique past GameStop. Old Navy was approximately four shops away, but as they reached the third shop, an idea suddenly came into her head and Ahnnie slowed to a stop in front of Abercrombie & Fitch.

Solas tilted his head in inquiry. "What is the matter?" he asked.

She beamed an eager smile at him from over her shoulder. "When in Rome!" she chirped in reply, and gestured for him to follow her inside the shop's dark interior. "Come on, you need to fit in more," she insisted when he seemed hesitant. "And what better way than with a little bit of shopping?"

The question marked their plunge into the shadowy, perfumed depths, the subdued lighting and electro music engulfing their senses in a seamless transition. Shapely torsos displayed their wares in tasteful combinations, flanked by shelves and tables and racks on which the garments lay folded or hung, beckoning for the searching touch of a human hand. Black-and-white models brooded suggestively at the pair from beyond their picture frames, lending to the atmosphere a certain sensuousness that seemed oddly fitting for Solas.

"I know just the look for you," she assured him once they were well inside. "Just stay right there, and I'll be back in a second."

She returned with her catch in record time, having found everything she needed within convenient reach and quantity. Pushing Solas into a dressing room, she patiently waited while he changed and was simply ecstatic to find everything a perfect fit when he reemerged. Without much thought to regular shopping procedures, Ahnnie zipped to the checkout counter to pay for the items while he still wore them. An amused elf in a a black pea coat, taupe sweater, and dark jeans accompanied her, his neck swathed in a smoky frayed-end scarf.

The final amount was beyond anything Ahnnie ever imagined spending on an outing by herself, but she whipped a debit card out of thin air and presented it smugly to the preppy cashier at the register. "No need for a receipt," she declined, and strolled back out into the holiday cheer with Solas beside her.

"You can do anything in the Fade," she gushed as they walked by Old Navy's expansive storefront and began a slight right turn into the food court. "If only I knew, when I was first stuck in it..."

"A Fade entered through dream is still a different Fade than the one you experienced," he reminded her. "It is far easier to shape it when dreaming than when physically inside it."

True..."But this isn't just a dream, is it, hahren? I've never dreamed anything so..." She took a deep sniff of the cinnamon-tinted air. "...vividly before."

He looked from her wistful expression to the source of the good smells. "Cinnabon does happen to be my favorite part of this mall," he confessed, and veered her past the Godiva Chocolatier they'd been walking alongside to the cozy, teal-themed cinnamon bun shop where the smell emanated from. "Two classic rolls," he ordered the moment they arrived at the counter, the first ones in line, too, and received both rolls in his hands, still warm and toasty from the oven. With his mouth already nibbling away at his roll, he handed the second one to her.

Ahnnie grasped the sheet of pastry parchment beneath her roll as sturdily as possible and sank her teeth into its ooey, gooey goodness. Such a rush of fragrant cinnamon and sweet, sweet glaze flooded her mouth that she almost choked as she greedily bit into more. She was halfway through when they reached the merry-go-round at the center of the food court and still working on it as they mounted the escalator nearby; by the time they crested the second floor, her roll was simply a strip of soft cinnamon pastry, which she savored by chewing slowly. As they stepped off, her hands were free to crumple the crumb-sticky parchment and throw it into a trashcan.

Score! she couldn't help but think as the parchment ball dropped into the black-bagged abyss. I never thought I'd say this, but boy do I miss throwing away trash...it satisfied her almost as much as the decadent cinnamon roll did.

But now an even greater amusement awaited her, for the cinema advertised itself with a red neon sign glowing enticingly to their left. Drawn like moths to a light, they strode for the ticket office beneath the sign, a screen of the available movies and showtimes flashing overhead while framed and lighted posters promoted the possible selections on the wall to their right.

"So, which movie do you want to see?" Ahnnie asked as they entered the line behind two other couples.

"What movie do you want to see, da'len?" Solas asked her back. "Show me your taste."

"Um..." Ahnnie pursed her lips and looked at the posters. Some were filled, some were blank; amongst those filled were The Conjuring 2, the live action Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, Swiss Army Man, Alice Through the Looking Glass; but she was interested in none of these. "Would you mind if we watched..." Her finger hovered over to a blank poster instead. "...that one?"

The empty whiteness slowly gained color and shape until it formed a theatrical portrait of a curly-haired Martin Freeman dressed in a burgundy overcoat and brandishing a shiny silver blade. From the director of the Lord of the Rings trilogy, read the words above him, and below, in three-dimensional script, The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey.

"It's the first in a trilogy about a world kind of like Thedas," she explained, "plus it's not that recent, so if it's not interesting enough..."

"Nonsense. It looks plenty interesting." Solas took a step forward as the line moved up. "Your favorite of the trilogy?" he guessed.

Ahnnie blushed as she moved alongside him. "Yes...I read the book in third grade and all the movies captured its spirit pretty well, but the first one really stands out in my opinion. Not as grave as the Lord of the Rings movies for example, but not all fun and games, either; it's got the perfect balance of each, it's fun to watch, it's adventurous, and it's...it's..." She waved her hand in vague circles as she struggled to find the best adjective. "Heartwarming," she said at last. Then she frowned. "Does that make any sense?"

"It does," he assured her, "but why don't we let the movie speak for itself?"

For it was finally their turn, and as they stepped up to the counter, Ahnnie took it upon herself to buy the admission. "Two tickets for The Hobbit, please. The nearest showing." Which, conveniently again, was now.

But of course, what movie was complete without popcorn? After entering the theater lobby, Ahnnie didn't even need to ask Solas for permission to head for the concession stand. The buttery movie-going treat was a given, and the both of them settled in their seats with a large bucket of the stuff propped between them. All that was left now was to sit back and relax. They had managed to snag a good spot in a center row, the auditorium was sparsely filled, the lights were beginning to darken – it was about as ideal a theater setting as Ahnnie would have wished for.

And then the movie began. Ahnnie settled deeper into her seat and plopped in another piece of popcorn as the whimsical prologue scene commenced with an elderly Bilbo Baggins writing his account of the titular adventure. Eyes glued to the screen, she watched as though seeing for the first time the silly dinner scene in Bag End, the start of the journey across Eriador to the Lonely Mountain, the dangers and shenanigans in between...

And then, after Bilbo and the dwarves reached Rivendell, came her most favorite scene yet. Lady Galadriel, cloaked in sunlight beneath an elegant elven arch, asked Gandalf the Grey why? "Why the halfling?" And his answer, delivered with a touch of the Shire's flute theme:

"I have found it is the small things, everyday deeds of ordinary folk that keeps the darkness at bay. Simple acts of kindness and love. Why Bilbo Baggins?" Gandalf asked with a chuckle, the camera panning closer to his wizened face as he spoke. "Perhaps it is because I am afraid, and he gives me courage."

Those words never failed to make Ahnnie smile, and she remembered thinking of this very scene the moment she'd decided just what to name Cixi's second puppy. Well, it was either that or Radagast...but Bilbo was shorter and sounded much cuter, besides.

Then after the fiasco in the Goblin King's halls, after being cornered on a precipice by orcs and then rescued by giant eagles, Bilbo and co. looked forward to a sequel as they sighted the Lonely Mountain in the distance – and the movie ended.

Ahnnie stretched her arms as the credits began rolling and rose after Solas as Neil Finn's Song of the Lonely Mountain played through the first few verses. After throwing away the popcorn bucket, she eagerly came up beside him and asked, "So what did you think? Was it good, or was it...?"

"It was heartwarming," Solas answered much to her delight, and he chuckled. "A rather...adorable adventure – which is not a description I'd think of applying to a company of hairy dwarves. Peter Jackson is a decent director."

"Sorry if there was some stuff you didn't get, though," she apologized. "Lady Galadriel and Saruman weren't supposed to appear in Rivendell, for one...Radagast too for that matter and...hmm...I don't think Frodo was in the prologue of the book, either. I think Peter Jackson intended for The Hobbit movies to act as a prequel to The Lord of the Rings, rather than a standalone."

He dismissed the matter with a nonchalant wave. "I can always catch up later. As always, movies are an interesting look into how Earthen humans think..."

They emerged into the theater lobby and sat down on a bench to talk. "Well, that is true," Ahnnie admitted. "They're expressions of culture as much as art and music." She gave him a curious glance as she remembered their first talk of movies in the Fade. "So let me guess; horror flicks intrigue you the most?"

"For a people who have no Fade, I had to see what they considered an alternative," he said with a smile. "Books here are a spotty source...I cannot read the languages, for one. Some of them appear fuzzed by memory as well. But movies; movies are vivid. They take the effort of forming images from the reader to the director who has arranged all aspects of the story. Where people may forget words printed on paper, the moving pictures they see onscreen become imprinted in their minds as freshly as if witnessing the events for themselves...movies may be considered more entertaining than informational, but there is something to be said of their execution, exaggerated or no. They are more than just performed acts of script – movies are an extraordinary medium of expression, the likes of which I have never seen before."

Wow...that's...deep. She had never considered movies in such a light before. To her, at least before coming to Thedas, they had always seemed just a part of daily life. As always, Solas never failed to awe her with his perspectives. Wait till he sees a documentary...or even a YouTube video! Could she access the Internet in the Fade? Maybe not...everything here seems to be as I remember it than in the now. I'd probably access an archived page rather than a current one – but that was fine, too. Now if only she could conjure up a smartphone...

"And from what I have observed, despite initial appearances, our worlds are not so different from each other after all."

Ahnnie perked up at that. "How so?"

Solas adjusted his scarf before crossing his arms contemplatively over his chest. "Do you remember, for one, the similarity of certain cultures? Religions and beliefs?"

"Well, yeah, we talked about it before."

"And the rise and fall of certain civilizations..."

"I mean, I'm no history expert, but...yeah."

"One side scientifically advanced but magically lacking; the other, magically advanced but scientifically lacking – but that they should share even languages to a startling degree of uniformity...?" He let out a breathy sigh. "It is a curious coincidence; they are similar in many aspects, yet different at the same time. It is almost as if something links the both of them while they run their own courses independent of each other..."

"Huh." Ahnnie blinked. "That sounds a lot like yin yang." When he turned quizzically to her, she explained, "It's a Chinese philosophy that believes in interlocking dualities; like, opposites, sort of. It literally means 'dark-bright'. From what I read, rather than opposing each other, what we think of as contrary forces actually interrelate – they interact dynamically to create a whole greater than the sum of its parts – if that makes any sense."

"Yes, yes it does," Solas nodded as he sat up straighter, intrigued. "Perhaps we are onto something?"

Ahnnie arched an eyebrow. "Like...parallels?"

"That's one way to go about it."

She could see the viability in that. "But it all still seems so vague. It just sounds like we're throwing ideas together with no definite purpose..."

Solas laughed. "That is what philosophers have been doing since the beginning of time, da'len. Don't be quick to discount aimless thinking; you never know what may arise from–"

The sudden clang of a bell vibrated through the air, cutting him off. A tremor passing through the ground shortly afterwards caused Ahnnie to clench the edges of her seat. "Solas?" she asked confusedly, eyes widening with fright. "What's going on?"

The elf beside her was as serene as could be. "A disturbance from the waking world," he explained, "marking the passage of another hour...and the end of our little Fade outing." He rose unflinchingly from the bench despite what felt like an earthquake and held out a hand for her. "We must wake up now, but we shall continue this at a later time."

Ahnnie tried standing from the bench, but fell back on her bum as another bell rang and the tremors increased. She slapped a hand into Solas' palm regardless and felt the reassuring strength of his pull sweeping her off her feet, dragging her through the collapsing ruins of her – their dream, the crowded mall melting away like paint splashed by water from an easel and into a world of abstract color, neither this nor that. In a reverse of their beginning journey, she passed from a state of accentuated awareness back into the lulling realm of unconsciousness that most dreams originated from; the dreams of ordinary, Fade-ignorant folk...the safest part of the Fade, as Solas had called it.

But even that was short-lived. As yet another bell rang, the blissful oblivion crumbled away and Ahnnie slowly opened her eyes to find herself back in the cozily lit rotunda. Rubbing those eyes, she rose her head from the couch and spied the wooden scaffold with its blue lantern glowing comfortingly across from her. Atop its platform, painting as if nothing had happened, was the familiar slim figure of Solas.

Not wishing to disturb his work, she slipped off the couch and began her drowsy way back to her quarters. But before she fully exited the rotunda, she chanced a peep over her shoulder at the fresco, noticing the extra details since painted on it and the sturdy, un-tired face of its artist. He caught her staring and aimed a sidelong smile plus wink her way, which she couldn't help but return through the fog of her languor.

Meet me at the gates after polearms. We will train outside the fortress today.

Ahnnie smiled down at the little note and tucked it between two pages in her journal, which in turn was tucked away into a drawer. No sense in letting anyone see such a note lying flat on her desk, now was there? She'd thought something was up when a servant brought in a bundle of drawing paper from the rotunda and the tiny strip of paper fluttered out as she unrolled the sheets. Solas helping her with magic was no secret, per se, as it was generally understood that he was willing to help with anything Anchor-related; his methods, however, were still viewed as unconventional, and such help was not widely known as "training".

She managed to get some initial sketching done before the bells signaled her daily lesson with Hargrave. Even when being schooled by the tough corporal, though, her mind seemed to wander. What did Solas have in store for her today? This was the first time in a long time that they had any chance to be alone for as long as the dream escapade; not since the early days in Haven, and especially not with all the traveling they'd done in the month prior to sealing the Breach. The moment she was free, she jogged straight for the gate, not willing to waste any time rushing back and forth from the training grounds to her quarters.

"Solas!" Ahnnie hailed as she spotted the bald elf by the gatehouse; a pack was slung over his shoulder and in his hands, rather than his staff, was a walking stick. She trotted over to him and pointed at the stick. "What's up with that?"

"We're going on a walk, of course," he answered matter-of-factly. "It's such a nice day for a walk. Wouldn't you agree, Inquisitor?"

"Oh...yeah! It's really good weather."

They kept up the small talk until they were finally off the bridge and hiking down a recently cut path. It felt strange being surrounded by nothing more than rocks and trees after weeks of castle life, so for a while Ahnnie was silent as she contemplated the nature around her. Then, looking over at Solas' shadow dappled face, did she remember what she had wanted to ask. "What are we going out here for, if you don't mind?"

"An exercise for you to try," he replied. "Something a little more hands-on."

"'Hands-on'?" she echoed. "Was that a pun?"

He chuckled. "You made it into one. But if you insist..." He paused to part a branch from his face, then said, "You will have noticed the Anchor's other capabilities. When you try tapping into your mana, as you have told me, there is only one place to which it goes. You haven't managed to move it elsewhere, have you? I thought not," he remarked when she shook her head. "And when you use your Anchor independent of the rifts, this gives you trouble in withdrawing mana from the mark. We shall see what we can do to remedy that, among other things."

No wonder they were going in secret, then. If they attempted this practice at Skyhold, people would be sure to notice; they would be frightened by an unprovoked Anchor, especially if she didn't yet have it under her control and it did something unexpected. Tongues would also wag if Solas appeared to have had a hand in it. Just as Ahnnie was in the process of digesting that information, however, Solas suddenly took them off the manmade path and onto a thin deer track through the undergrowth instead. She quickened her pace to catch up with the nimble elf, wondering just how far was far enough for him.

They stopped several minutes later at a rocky little clearing. Solas laid his walking stick and pack against the trunk of a nearby tree, and gestured for Ahnnie to do the same with her glaive. Once that was done, he asked her, "Do you still remember the exercises I taught you?"

"I believe so."

"Good. Start on them and think of putting power into the Anchor."

Ahnnie nodded and closed her eyes. Then she slowed her breathing in an attempt to still her body; faced with no life-threatening exigencies, her mana took its sweet time in answering her summons. She was unable to tell exactly how much time was passing, but it seemed to be quite a bit in her half suspended state. Eventually, it did come; after the little, tingling awakening, she willed the spark to shift into her left palm and was not surprised to feel magic racing through her veins as the Anchor siphoned it greedily.

Ahnnie gasped awake and slapped her other hand over her flaring one's wrist, startled as always by the Anchor's electric ecstasy. "Now what?" she yelled to Solas over the crackling.

"You must cancel it," he yelled back.

"But how? I can't do it on my own!"

He opened his mouth to speak, closed it, and opened it again. "About that; there is actually something to which I must confess."

"What?"

"That time in the Crossroads, in the fight with the archer – I did nothing to calm your mark. It was actually of your own doing."

Either she was going deaf, or the flares were making her hear things. "That's not true! You, you cast spells–"

"Those words I spoke?" he asked. "Nothing more than Elvish endearments. The point is, da'len, it's all in how you feel. You may not achieve full control, but you can certainly manage the Anchor's responses to mana. It is like physical pain; the more you worry about it, the more you can feel it, but distract yourself and then the pain becomes tolerable, if not alleviated."

That's not the most helpful analogy, here, Ahnnie lamented. "So what you're saying is...I should just calm down?"

"Precisely! In fact, this should serve as a good desensitization exercise." Solas folded his hands behind his back and paced about her. "Fear your magic less, and it shall not feel so beyond your grasp. A good lesson to apply to other aspects of your life, if you will notice."

She watched him as he passed by her line of vision and then focused back on the sputtering Anchor. "If he says so," she murmured to herself, "then it's worth a shot..." She fixed her gaze on the bright green flares, willing herself not to flinch at every startling pop, hiss, or squeal. She figured if she faced the thing head-on, the electric crackles would eventually grow redundant. It hasn't hurt me yet, she recalled, and it only felt like hell when it was expanding or aggravated by Corypheus. I don't even think it is electricity...She took a deep breath and made an equally deep exhalation. It just feels a little tingly and vibrate-y...now it's a little ticklish, she remarked, and wiggled her fingers to stir some feeling back in. Hm, I never held it still for that long before...

To her pleasant surprise, the Anchor appeared to grow slightly less frenzied. And as she felt that pleasant surprise, the flares lowered down another notch. It was as if...as if the Anchor fluctuated in response to the intensity of her emotions – so, kind of like biofeedback! Sweet! She looked up at Solas with a grin on her face. "It's working!" she boasted.

"I can see that," he acknowledged. "However, you still haven't canceled the mark."

"Oh, right..."

"Think about what has worked in accomplishing that," Solas suggested. "When we were at the Crossroads, or whenever you closed rifts, even. What is a common factor that was present in each of these times?"

She pursed her lips in thought. The first time it happened in Haven, I broke my mana concentration...no way I can do that now, since I'm pretty focused on it. At the Crossroads...I don't know what I did. Maybe it was the fact that Solas made me feel safe again? Then when rifts are closed, isn't that because the Anchor's found a target that it's...resolved, in a way? Is that it? A resolution? If that were so, then living targets did not seem to provide that resolution (as she had the misfortune of finding out). So how, exactly, had the Anchor ever been "resolved" without a rift?

She tried closing her eyes and breathing deeply while thinking of warm and safe things in an attempt to replicate that time with the dead archer. The Anchor then felt a little more subdued in response, but was still very much alive. She tried willing herself to withdraw some mana back inside her, but the Anchor held steadfast in its grab for power. Well, what if I do a bit of the opposite, since none of these seem to work? she wondered idly.

Ahnnie knew she would regret it the moment she thought it out. The mark suddenly intensified as it drew on the offered wealth of mana, crackling and spitting with an even greater urgency than before, and the unintended result threw her newly cultivated confidence off balance. "U-um," she stuttered, "Solas? I don't think it's..."

"Did you put more mana into it?" he asked, and then frowned. "Whatever you do, don't panic–"

He should have known her well enough by now to realize she would do just that. With a tightened grip over her left wrist, Ahnnie's mind went wild trying to find a way to stop the flares. She was already seeing the many ways it would go wrong in her mind's eye, and as the Anchor slipped farther out of her control, these fears only seemed to be further confirmed.

And then the magic began to break from the mark.

"Whoa!" Ahnnie shouted as a beam of green light shot from her palm. Her head flinched away and her eyes closed upon instinct, then her feet danced in a nervous hop-step backwards...the result was a tumultuous stumble against a rock that struck her heel. Crashing onto her back, the beam broke on impact and her hands went spread-eagled in an attempt to diminish the shock. It was only half-successful and her spine took the brunt of the fall against several low-lying rocks. Ow...

"Telamdys!" Solas rushed to her side, lifting her upper body with a supporting arm across her back. "Ahnnie! Are you all right?"

She opened her eyes and blinked through the spots of light and darkness dancing across her vision. Even in her disoriented state, though, she did not fail to miss the small rift opening in the middle of the clearing, sucking in whatever happened to be beneath it. It sent up a rush of air in its swirling, flirting through the flaps of Solas' tunic and strands of her hair as if vying futilely to bring them under its grasp. "Solas," she gasped, gripping his arm with her right hand. "What...!?"

He followed her frightened gaze to the little rift and then looked back at her. "That is...interesting. I'd forgotten about this. You remember the rift I had you open to trap Envy?"

"So...that's...?" She turned her marked palm upwards and stared at the Anchor in awe.

Solas nodded. "Now can you stand? We'll have to close it–"

But the rift disappeared as suddenly as she had called it into existence. As if in satisfaction of the forest debris it managed to pilfer, the rift collapsed in on itself until it, too, was sucked into the void, and the clearing returned to normal. Nothing was left behind to signal a rift had ever been there, not even the tiniest mark.

"–or not." Solas smiled at her. "But I think you have had enough magic practice for today. Can you sit up?" As she rose along to his gentle push, he took note of the Anchor. "Ah, it's still activated. Let me see what I can do to help. If you would hold still, please."

"O...kay..."

"Ahnnie? You don't sound well." When she didn't respond, he looked back up at her. "Ahnnie? Ahn – oh, fenedhis!" He reached out just as her body swayed and caught her squarely across both arms.

Ahnnie looked around at the swirling nothingness about her before facing the bald elf who had brought her here. "I fainted, didn't I?" she asked glumly.

"An irregular influx of mana was going through your body," Solas pointed out, "and you applied an inordinate amount of it to the Anchor. Not a surprising reaction, given the circumstances."

She looked down at her left hand, or at least the dream projection of it. "Is it still...?"

"The Anchor is at rest," he assured her. "When you fell unconscious, the flow of mana was disrupted; which is one way to solve your problem, at the very least. Just not one that can be regularly applied..."

Huh. "So, what are we doing here?" she wondered aloud, kicking idly at a pebble she conjured from the nothingness. "Are we still having a lesson, or...?"

Solas shrugged. "We will do whatever you feel like doing, da'len. Exploring the Fade was not what I originally intended to do today, but an exception can be made. Or if you would prefer to rest as usual, then that is fine too."

Ahnnie thought on that for a second, tapping and tracing her foot against the miasmal ground as she did so. "I want to eat some phở," she said at last. "I'm starving."

Solas let out a laugh. "All right then – but I'm afraid you will still be starving when you wake up."

"I know. I was just craving it." She began to envision the place she wanted to go, and remarked, "I know a really good restaurant along Buford Highway. They've got some decent boba smoothies too."

"Phở is a Vietnamese dish?" he guessed.

"Yup."

"Then why settle for phở in Georgia when you can have it at its birthplace?"

"Well, that's because–" But then she paused when she realized he wasn't talking about a rival restaurant in the same area. "Wait, you mean...Vietnam?"

"Why not?" he countered. "I did tell you that more than just your dreams and memories were brought to the Fade; it is the essence around you as well. And where was it that many of your family members spent a majority of their lives...?"

Her eyes brightened and her smile grew wider. "You are brilliant, hahren, just brilliant! Also, we are totally going to Egypt next time. One of my uncles went there for a business trip and he got to tour the Valley of the Kings."

"Egypt it will be, then," Solas nodded. "I should like to see the pyramids in person."

Amen to that! But she would delight in it later. For now, she focused long and hard on what made Vietnam...well, Vietnam. A key to attempting such travel in the Fade – if daydreaming in place could be considered traveling – was to think of the ethos of the destination, the feelings it evoked, its character. Especially since she had never been to the country physically, her feelings would be paramount in constructing the dream scenario. Luckily, photographs and movies will have helped to fill in the blanks, as well as contributions from the memories of the people linked to her...

She did not realize her eyes were closed until the grassy fragrance of moist nature wafted across her nose. Her eyelids fluttered open to reveal a vast field of dusky golden stalks shimmering in the breeze like waves in a whispering sea. Breaking the surface were pale yellow, conical points, bobbing in time to the rise and fall of sickles. Voices called out to each other in between intervals, voices she knew and understood. Out in the distance, star-shaped palm and banana trees fringed the blue horizon like a leafy picture frame and a lazy stream cut across the landscape. A brown-garbed figure carrying two baskets on a shoulder pole appeared against that frame a moment later and lowered their cargo on the elevated path beside the field. In response, the voices now called to each other for a well-deserved lunch break.

Before Ahnnie could say anything, the lowing of a large animal startled her from behind and she jumped aside to let it pass. The sun-browned boy sitting atop the water buffalo poked fun at her skittishness before turning back to his job of steering the other two buffaloes with him down the path, trundling more or less in single file through the narrowly raised dirt. Ahnnie stepped back onto the path as soon as the last buffalo was well past her, staring in awe after their large grey backsides.

To anyone watching, the plain garb of the people around them would seem simplistic sets of long button-up shirts and pants. Combined with the conical hats, they might even seem alien. But to Ahnnie, these things were familiar raiments, symbolic of songs and stories and nostalgia: the áo bà ba and nón lá of the Southern Vietnamese countryside.

"I must be dreaming," she murmured to herself with a hand over her mouth. "No, wait, I am dreaming..."

"Indeed you are, da'len," Solas agreed, reaching down to pluck the tips of the stalks closest to their path. "Though I'm not quite sure this is where you intended to have phở."

"Oh!" She slapped her forehead. "Haha! I'm so silly – I heard a lot about the countryside growing up, you know? It's a heavily romanticized part of the culture, plus my dad grew up there. Well, his family was originally from the North, but they moved South when he was a toddler after the Northern government turned Communist. My mom, though, is from Saigon...or I guess, Hồ Chí Minh City now."

"Really?" Solas rubbed the grainy bulbs of rice between his fingers as he rose. "What an interesting history. So not only are you a child of the tropic sun and fields, but of the busy streets and avenues as well?"

"Don't you mean my parents?" she joked with a laugh. "I'm more of a child of the white stars and red stripes. And you forgot 'a dash of French architecture' in between 'streets and avenues'...but enough on that. Let's focus on getting to the city now."

Ahnnie turned down the path in the water buffaloes' line of travel and strode through the tracks churned into the dirt, walking confidently as if the city should be right around the corner. Solas followed her amusedly and voiced that opinion, to which she explained with a rather sheepish expression.

"That was how I switched through places in that time with Envy. Since we were in my memories, that would mean we were in the Fade to some extent, so I figured the same mechanism might apply in a dream..."

"An insightful observation," Solas praised. "And yes, it will work, so long as you believe."

She was glad to hear that as they came to a crossroads heavily fringed by long and wavy banana fronds. Ahnnie parted a section of the fronds and cut through a corner of the path to shove herself between two of the banana trees. Solas followed suit, and when they emerged on the other side, they found themselves facing a busy road in a bright little city, criss-crossed left and right with blurring traffic. Motorbikes and automobiles shared the asphalt indiscriminately, as well as a penchant for speeding.

"See, told you," Ahnnie said as she pointed to the facade of a brown gothic cathedral directly ahead of them. "Nhà Thờ Đức Bà Sài Gòn, or the Notre Dame Cathedral of Saigon. And right next to it is the Central Post Office." To their right, just across the street, was a large pinkish-white building with orange slate roofing featuring exquisite molding and bell arch windows. "Looks pretty Orlesian to you, doesn't it?"

"Indeed," he acknowledged. "Especially that face carved over the transom."

"There's several buildings like that scattered across Saigon built during the French occupation," Ahnnie explained. "There's old Vietnamese stuff too, like the Vĩnh Nghiêm Pagoda, but for the most part the city's built in a...it's a little hard to explain, but it's a kind of universal sort of structure on Earth that everyone calls 'modernized', just square-ish buildings and telephone lines..." She shook her head. "You'll understand better once you see more of it."

She considered walking to do so, but thought of a better idea when she noticed a couple of motorbike drivers seemingly lounging on their vehicles by the curb with nothing to do. Ahnnie immediately jogged over to them and asked, "Dạ, hai bác là tài xế xe ôm ạ?"

They nodded in unison and asked her if she needed their assistance; she nodded back in affirmative and gestured at both her and Solas. When the curious elf came over, she explained to him that they would be hiring xe ôm, or motorbike taxis, to take them where they needed to go. "It's much safer than walking through the traffic," she added, "which, in Saigon, has no rules."

Solas raised an eyebrow at this and watched her climb behind one of the motorbike drivers. He settled himself carefully behind the other one afterwards, and while she secured a helmet over her head, Ahnnie got down to the business of their destination: "Hai bác biết tiệm phở nào ngon nhất tại Sài Gòn?" What's the best place for phở in Saigon?

"Phở hả?" her driver asked. "Chắc...nếu phải nói thì chắc là Phở Hòa Pasteur."

"Vậy thì cho cháu xin tới đó."

"Ông tây này theo luôn?" Solas' driver asked, jabbing a calloused thumb back at his elven passenger.

Ahnnie fought the urge to giggle at the thought of Solas being labeled "westerner" and nodded. Her driver then said, "Trăm ngàn cho hai người, nhe cháu."

100,000 đồng for two? Ahnnie pursed her lips as she tried to remember that would amount to in dollars, or if it was even a fair price. Remembering this was the Fade, however, she quickly nodded back. "Dạ được."

They set off after Solas was given his helmet. Starting out right from the street before the cathedral, the motorbikes sped left and offered them a more expansive side view of the religious building. Ahnnie's eyes widened as she zipped by the intricately detailed side transept, followed by the rounded radial chapels circling the ambulatory. Wow! I never saw that part of the cathedral before! She couldn't take her eyes off even after the motorbikes made another left behind the cathedral to pass down an avenue of trees, enchanted as she was by the charming new angles, and swiveled her head back only when the tall bell towers disappeared behind the leaves.

They turned right at the next junction onto a street labeled "Pasteur". From then on, it was a continuous ride, zipping past fellow vehicles, pedestrians, and the city around them at an alarming speed. Ahnnie held her driver's waist a little tighter as she stared at the blocky, crowded buildings, reminiscent to her of a small-scale Chinatown. What does Solas think of it? she wondered. Obviously not as pretty as the cathedral and post office...but, in a way, it possessed its own urban charm. Funny how something she'd only seen in pictures and used to judge as trashy could feel so different, almost endearing, in person.

They finally arrived at their destination, an unassuming little space along a strip of shops with a granite storefront labeled "Phở Hòa" in both Vietnamese and Chinese in gold lettering. "Pasteur" sat to the other side in bright red, isolated from the gold by the line of Chinese characters.

Ahnnie and Solas disembarked by the curb, and the girl paid their drivers with a crisp 100,000₫ bill she fished from her tunic's pocket. Going past the hot and cold food displays sitting out by the entrance, Ahnnie and Solas finally entered the restaurant. There were no doors, but two rectangular openings fitted with folding gates on either side. A waiter in khakis and flipflops added to the casual yet cozy ambience of the interior, small though it was, and seated them at a table for two along a wall. Even if he did not produce a menu, they could still view the selections taped on the wall behind the counter and plastered about the two columns in the center.

"Hahren, you have not lived until you've tried cà phê sữa đá," she said the moment the waiter asked for their drinks. "Trust me, it's so good! If you don't like it, I swear I'll get you another drink and pay for your meal."

Solas chuckled. "Very well; I put my trust in you."

"Cho hai ly cà phê sữa đá," she then ordered, and the waiter left. Solas took the opportunity in the meantime to glance over the menu, helpfully labeled with pictures of the fare above their names. He was looking at the different types of phở in particular, and even though there were also English labels, Ahnnie knew he couldn't read them well and took it upon herself to be helpful. "To be honest, hahren, you look more of a phở gà kind of guy," she said, pointing to the bowl of chicken phở. "But phở tái is pretty good too, and so is phở gân and bò viên." Her finger went over the bowls of sliced rare beef, tendon, and meatballs. "You could order any combination of the cuts actually, but if you want to try everything, you should get the phở đặc biệt."

"So that is how phở is served?" he mused. "A base of broth and rice noodles, then your choice of meat? And is it mostly with beef?"

"The soup's made from beef, so yeah," she said with a shrug. "Some places nowadays add different variations, like shrimp or tofu...I know it's a lot to process at first. If you're confused about anything, I'd be glad to help."

He nodded thoughtfully before sliding the menu away. "In that case, I shall try a little bit of everything. How would I place that order?"

Ahnnie thought on that for a moment. "Quantity, object, adjective," she said at last. "So - một tô phở đặc biệt. Literally, 'one bowl phở special'. Depending on what size you want, you'd add 'thường' or 'lớn' to the end, since those're what this restaurant has; regular or large. But the identity of the dish is a given, so I would say một tô đặc biệt makes more sense."

"There are no plural nouns or equivalent to 'of'?"

"Now that you mentioned it, no. Nouns have to have numbers or quantifiers before them. And in a possessive case, 'của' goes in between the object and possessor, but sometimes it'll be omitted for convenience. It's kind of like how people don't say 'the book of the girl' all the time, I guess."

Solas nodded thoughtfully. At that same moment, the waiter returned with their cups of iced coffee. Ahnnie immediately descended upon hers, swirling the ice and thick, creamy coffee with her straw before taking a long undue sip. She relished the bittersweet bite at the back of her tongue, and then looked up as the waiter began asking for their orders.

"Một tô đặc biệt thường," Solas interjected before she could speak, and the waiter was slightly taken aback by the westerner's almost fluent command of the tones.

"Một tô tái sách thường," Ahnnie put in a moment later, recapturing the waiter's attention.

"Tái sách?" Solas inquired after he departed for the kitchen. "What would that be?"

"Sliced rare beef and tripe," she explained. "I always get that."

A dish of fresh herbs arrived first, which Ahnnie pointed out as Thai basil, culantro, beansprouts, and two wedges of lime to taste. They served as garnishes for the phở that could be added according to preference. That made her remember there was a variety of sauces on the table such as the dark hoisin sauce, red Sriracha sauce, and hot chili paste, which she also explained could be mixed in or kept on a sauce dish for dipping meat.

And then came the moment of truth. Two steaming hot bowls of phở arrived at the table not longer than ten minutes after the garnishes, one with slices of pink meat and white tripe laid over the noodles, the other with an assortment heaped about. Ahnnie thought she might have to show Solas how to manipulate chospticks, but he assured her he had already learned from trying out sushi at the mall. I wonder just how much of Earth he's witnessed? she thought as she squeezed some lime over everything and tucked in, first taking a sip of the savory broth, then a bite of the soft noodles. A moment later she crunched through the springy tripe and lifted a slice of rare beef from the top, still fresh and pink, and slid it onto her tongue.

Ahnnie watched Solas carefully over the lip of her bowl, noting the almost delicate way with which he sampled the different meats – flank, brisket, tendon, meatball...like her, he opted to leave sauces out of the soup, but tested them out anyway by skimming some meat over them before plopping it on a bed of noodles in his spoon. He was methodical and deliberate in his movements, and she swore she even heard some nosy restaurant-goer remark, "By god, that foreigner eats like a cat!"

Once they were halfway through did she dare to ask the inevitable. "So, hahren...what do you think?"

Solas paused to finish chewing before he answered her. "It is certainly new," he began. "I think I taste star anise and cloves in the broth...maybe a hint of cinnamon? Combined with the beef stock, it is a most innovative balance of flavor. The meat is cooked well and steeped in flavor from the broth, but I think I prefer the tendon overall."

She couldn't help the warmth spreading through her cheeks, and not just from the soup steam. "And the coffee?" she added whilst struggling to suppress a widening smile.

Solas stirred his glass and smiled in amusement at her. "I won't be needing another drink," he answered cryptically, and took a little sip. "It is a bit strong, though," he added with a slight cough.

But as all good things must be, their meal soon came to an end. Ahnnie reluctantly watched the noodles and meat in her bowl disappear until there was nothing but clouded brown broth left over. Solas left more leftovers, mainly because he had been here to sample rather than eat. Regardless, the phở certainly hit the spot, and dream or no dream her stomach felt satisfied. She sat back in her chair and drained the last of her coffee, slurping it up until there was no more.

Solas merely twirled his drink with a straw, and Ahnnie did not notice the pensive frown on his features until he spoke up. "I understand the Fade is a poor substitute for the real experience–"

Ahnnie raised a brow when he didn't continue. "The Fade is much better than the most advanced virtual reality technology to date," she countered. "I couldn't ask for anything better."

"I know," he said quietly. "Still. It feels...inadequate, given what you've lost."

"What...is that still bothering you? Hahren, don't worry, I'm perfectly fine."

Solas smiled up at her and shook his head. "Forgive me, I simply thought...well, it just felt necessary to say."

"Hey, it's totally fine," she assured him yet again. "You shouldn't have to feel bad about it. I mean, what could you do? You couldn't have known that I was going to come over here. Even if you did, we'd risk both our lives trying to navigate the Fade physically. You know a lot about the Fade hahren, I'm sure you do; but just because you don't know enough about it to help me doesn't mean you're a failure. Or whatever it is you're thinking."

He slid a weary hand over his face and heaved out a long sigh. "You'll never know how much it means to hear you say that," he breathed, almost whispered, but before Ahnnie could respond to it he smiled and rose from his seat. "I'm going to use the restroom for a bit. Wait here and get the check, if you can."

"Huh? Okay..." She couldn't help but wonder if her words truly had any effect, though, or if he was just saying that. Then she eyed the quarter-full glass of cà phê sữa đá Solas had left behind. Is he still drinking that? Does he still want it, or...?

A sleek red blouse slid into Solas' empty chair in between these thoughts, jarring her vision and composure. With a start, Ahnnie perked up and faced the blouse's owner, a suave young man with slicked-back hair and shifty eyes; a pair of dark sunglasses sat tucked in the middle of his collar, which was flared open by a button or two.

"Chào em," he greeted, his voice a blend of sultry brazenness. "Sao lẽ loi vậy? Bộ em tới đây một mình hả?" Hey babe. Why so lonely? Did you come here alone?

Ahnnie stared at him awhile in shock, taken aback by his openly flirtatious manner. Was this supposed to be a part of the Fade scene? She was able to interact with people, but no one had approached her yet. Eventually she composed herself enough to shake her head. "Dạ không. Em tới đây với..." She paused a moment, wondering what to call Solas. It felt weird calling him chú, as it might imply blood relations if used possessively. Then she thought of the perfect answer: "...sư phụ em." I'm here with my sifu.

"Oh! Sư phụ!" His eyes widened in faux amazement. "Chà! Chắc em giỏi võ lắm phải không?" You must be a skilled martial artist, eh? "Anh cũng biết võ vậy. Em biết võ gì không?" I know martial arts too; know what kind?

What is this guy...Ahnnie flitted her eyes here and there in search of Solas, but he was apparently still in the bathroom. "Võ gì?" she decided to ask, hoping the young man would stop after she'd played along far enough.

"Thì là võ ba chọ đó. Nổi tiếng lắm." Ba chọ. It's real famous.

Her face twisted into further confusion. The name was not only weird, but a strange arrangement of vowels that held no sensible meaning whatsoever. "Ba chọ là cái gì vậy?" she asked incredulously.

"Bộ em không biết à?" Don't you know?

"Không..." No...

"Không biết thật?" You really don't know?

"Đã nói là không mà..." I already said no...

The young man's smile turned into a smirk as he blurted out, "Tức là bỏ chạy!" The martial art of running away!

And now it dawned upon her. He had made use of the typical Vietnamese pun joke of switching the vowels and tones between two words. She'd heard more clever use of it than this, though. Ra máu, rau má – loosing blood, pennywort juice; đá banh, đánh ba – soccer, hitting dad. And why would he even joke about doing something like 'running away' while calling me a martial artist? Vietnamese guys, as she had heard, possessed more bravado than that.

"She doesn't look all that impressed, if you ask me."

Ahnnie gave yet another start and whirled around in her seat. "Hahren!" she exclaimed in relief. Finally, I'm rescued!

The young man, on the other hand, was not so happy. His face was already twisting into a deep scowl, marring his otherwise slick features. Solas merely smiled back, an amused, thin-lipped smile, and began to say something Elvish under his breath. The young man shot up from his seat and threw his hands into the air. "All right, all right!" he suddenly exclaimed in Common. "I am leaving, elf!"

"Then what are you waiting for?" Solas retorted. "I want you gone. Now."

The young man huffed and began to storm out of the restaurant. "If you don't want your precious charge falling into trouble, then maybe you shouldn't have left her so vulnerable in the first place!" he spat, and then finally disappeared around the corner. His voice, Ahnnie noticed, devolved from sultry to coarse; almost primal.

"What on earth was that?" Ahnnie asked after a moment of shocked silence.

"You met a demon," Solas explained, to which Ahnnie jumped up from her seat. "A desire demon, to be exact."

"A desire demon!? Aren't those high on the Brahm's Scale?"

"Even the Chantry admits not all demons can be ranked equally on that spectrum," Solas countered. "Desire demons can be powerful, but it also depends on the individual demon and what aspect of their designated emotions they focus on. For example, that demon was focused on lust – a desire demon focused on a more complex desire would be stronger."

"Oh..."

"That is not to say someone lustful wouldn't have fallen for the deceit, however. What such people as Madame Vivienne won't tell you, is that the probability of being affected by a certain demon depends on the victim's personality as well as the demon's power. Whereas they may have lost their heads over seeing you simply talking with that demon, I was perfectly certain that nothing would come of it, even when I'd noticed it watching you while we ate."

Ahnnie couldn't believe what she was hearing. "You...let him talk to me on purpose?"

"Da'len, I don't mean anything by this, but because of certain things you are not easily tempted by lust, now are you?" When she was silent, he continued, "But consider why Envy almost succeeded in possessing you, and your suicidal thoughts when near a despair demon. This information is key to building a defense against demonic possession; and it becomes even more essential when literally anything you encounter in the Fade is a spirit or demon in disguise."

"So all these people here..." She gestured at the little restaurant. "The xe ôm drivers..."

"And even inanimate objects," Solas added.

She slapped a horrified hand over her mouth. Oh...gross! I ate a spirit!

"That is not necessarily so," Solas explained with a laugh. "But a possibility. Spirits emulate what they see in the minds of dreamers, da'len. They are very intrigued with the waking world. Many have a strong desire to experience life as we know it...if you can, I suggest you read the Comprehensive Study on Denizens of the Fade by Senior Enchanter Rhys of the White Spire. It will give you a better idea of what I'm talking about for our next lesson. For now, I shall take you back to Skyhold for some real food."

Ahnnie eagerly followed him outside at that, and thought perhaps that a little space of time between now and their next Fade trip wouldn't be so bad.

A/N: Shout out to fellow residents of OTP east Atlanta, especially if you traverse the Buford area! I placed Cinnabon at the corner of the food court rather than JCPenny, as it only moved to that location 4 months after this fic was meant to start (that is, July 2016). Plus I added a teeny little bit to Cole's part in Chapter 16 (#18) 'cause I reread it and thought it sounded too Sue-ish at the end.

– Viet notes –

Disclaimer: The Saigon/HCM city Solas and Ahnnie experienced may not be 100% accurate and is not the Saigon of today. I would put it generally between the early 90's to 2000's, just to be on the safe side. The city today is far more industrialized and, well, different. Maybe go and see for yourself sometime ;).

Hiring xe ôm

D vs. Đ: In Vietnamese, D on its own has a "y" sound (if Southern) or "z" sound (if Northern). Đ indicates the hard "d" sound.

Central Post Office is described here as light-pinkish; today it's a bright yellow after a recent paint job.

"Hai bác biết tiệm phở nào ngon nhất tại Sài Gòn?" roughly translates to "Do you two know the best phở shop in Saigon?" I omitted "Do you two" because it sounds clunky and, colloquially, "What's the best place?" flows better in English while carrying the same meaning. Hai bác = literally, 2 (older) uncles, is spoken first as a mark of politeness. Bác indicates anyone older than your parent (or your parents' oldest sibling) but not grandparent relations.

In case you were wondering, "Ông tây này theo luôn?" means "This (male) westerner is coming too?"

100,000₫ = $4.40 and is not a super fair price for 2 people at a distance of 1.6km, btw (fair would be 20,000₫ per km). Individual xe ôm drivers typically quote their own prices, so if you're not careful you can get overcharged. In this case Ahnnie's driver gave a price for two because it's easier to just talk with the one who knows Vietnamese, plus he probably knows the other driver well and figures she's not from around there so she won't notice the difference. Had Solas been on his own, he might have gotten swindled for far more. To that end, I hear there's a new app nowadays that standardizes the industry more.

Phở time

Phở Hòa Pasteur is a real place. It's famous for being run by the same family for quite a few generations now and an heirloom recipe that has sparked restaurant chains worldwide.

Cho hai ly cà phê sữa đá – "Cho", or "give", is sometimes spoken before placing an order (or requesting anything, actually) to sound polite. "Give me two glasses of iced coffee" is what that translates to. The ultimate politeness is "Cho xin", "Let me ask for [insert item here], please". "Xin cho" for "Please give me" would not be applicable as it sounds more like begging, which defeats the purpose of a restaurant.

Flirting desire demon

Sifu means master, so why isn't sư phụ translated to "master"? Thing is, sư phụ has a martial artsy connotation in Vietnamese thanks to media portrayals. Sifu in the same way has a similar vibe in English, plus it's literally the word's origin, so it is more or less an okay counterpart. Ahnnie could have used "thầy" or "thầy giáo" instead, as both mean "teacher", maybe even do okay as "master", but the implication is more like "schoolteacher" than how she views Solas.

And then the whole "ba chọ, bỏ chạy" joke – I was hit with that not too long ago and thought it would be funny to share here.