"Just close your eyes lethallan." He settled down on the bed beside her, lanky legs half tucked up, leaning casually on his elbow. It was strange having him so close yet knowing she should not touch him. He hadn't given her permission yet. It was certainly not what her brain had originally imagined if she ever gotten him into her bed but she kept her hands carefully to herself.

Varania complied, though it felt strange, Solas so close to her, yet thinking apparently that she shouldn't be distracted. She felt him shift in the bed with the slight movement of the soft mattress under her before he spoke again.

"Now, just relax. Start with the top of your head. Feel all the muscles relax."

Instead of relaxing, Varania peeked an eye open. He laid beside her with a one of those tiny half smiles on his lips. She almost wished the big four poster bed was just a little bit smaller for an instant, but then thought better of it. He wasn't here so she have inappropriate urges. If they'd just been dirty thoughts, physical ones, they would have been easy to push away. Instead, she just wanted to be closer to him whatever that decided to mean.

He seemed to sense her looking at him and he opened his eyes. His smile widened. He shook his head.

"Da'len," he chastised her. "You won't be able to sleep if you have your eyes open."

Varania sighed. "I'm not a child, you know." She tried to read his expression as a response to that but it was enigmatic. "Ir abelas," she quickly amended, thinking she saw a bit of disappointment in his eyes. "I don't have any manners when I'm tired."

"No, you are right," he admitted. "I should not try to put distance between us by calling you such." This time his expression was more readable, but still complex. Sadness, hesitation and something. "For now," he paused and then explained. "If I help you with this, I will sleep as well. If my presence is distracting..."

"No," she replied, too quickly. "I mean, yes, you are distracting, but I don't want you to go. I will try harder to listen."

He grinned at that, clearly pleased but only nodding in reply before he closed his eyes again. Varania followed suit, taking a deep breath to calm herself. Solas cleared his throat.

"Now, again, focus your attention on the top of your head. Next, your forehead, your cheeks and at the same time down the back of your head to the crux of your neck." He began to speak, listing off one body part after another. Varania carefully complied this time, allowing the tension in her muscles to melt away. She hadn't realized how much strain there was until it was gone.

She slipped into sleep without even realizing it and for a long time, floated in a restful dreamlessness. Her body soaked up the calm and the rest, direly needing it. Crestwood had been a horror; all those bodies, all that death. But none of that troubled her for the moment, sunk under a warm dark blanket that deep sleep, beneath the Fade she thought of it. It wasn't until her mind started to emerge again that she truly entered the Fade itself.

She found herself on the streets of Minrathous, the cobblestones of this ancient street damp with humidity and glossy in the fading light of evening. The street was silent though and Minrathous was never quiet, always a bustle of people and animals and smells. In the distance she heard someone call her name. She spun, saw a flash of red hair. Leto. He had that look, that one before he was about to do something stupid and then he started to change, the color fading from his hair, the glow of those blue white lyrium brands starting to glow through the darkness of his skin. But before his transformation was complete, before he spoke again, a voice cut through the dream, yanking her out of the Fade like a parental hand on her collar.

She sat up as if someone pulled her.

The voice; it was Solas, but he wasn't awake. He thrashed, his face contorted with pain, anger. His eyes darted wildly behind closed lids.

"No, no no no," he muttered, the sharp tone of that single word clearly what had grasped her from sleep. Varania wasn't sure what to do. The Fade could be perilous for any mage, and Solas traveled further than most. There were so many dangers, so many things that could go wrong if she woke him and he wasn't ready.

Steeling herself, she reached out a hand and put it on the side of face. Instead of pulling away or even ignoring her, he suddenly relaxed into her touch. His hand came up over hers.

"Thank you," he muttered before even opening his eyes. Slowly, they opened and they were reddened and damp as if he'd shed tears though there were none on his face. "I did not need hear any more of that." Solas took a deep breath and squeezed her hand again before he sat up, tucking his legs under him. Varania let her hand fall back into her lap.

"What happened?" She wondered what in the Fade might actually spook him.

"I need your help, lethallan," he asked, his voice grave. "My friend has been captured by mages - I heard the call for help in my dreams."

"Anything you need from me is yours," she said probably more openly than she should have. She pressed on despite how much that sounded like a confession. "How did they trap your friend? Blood magic?"

Solas shook his head, perhaps to gracious or instead still too distracted to notice her nearly blatant admission. "A summoning circle, I assume."

"Your friend is a..."

"A spirit, yes. Of Wisdom in fact, and it has been pulled through the Veil against it's will." He pursed his lips, his eyes still having the far away look. "I saw the Exalted Plains. I'm sure that's what they have trapped it."

"Why would they do that?"

"I'm not sure," he admitted. His tone was fierce despite his calm words. "Likely for knowledge they were not meant to have, or for power or any number of foolish reasons."

Varania nodded. In Tevinter, magisters used summoned spirits all the time. As servants, as helpers, for knowledge and for power. They tried not to go against the purpose of the spirit and corrupt it, unless that was their original goal, and even then it was easier to just bind a demon instead. She couldn't comment how much she actually knew of this, not until Solas knew the truth and now certainly wasn't the time to add more difficultly to his life. She could tell by the look on his face that he was already more than stricken enough.

"We'll go as soon as possible. I think we already have scouts there, and if we don't I'll send some ahead as soon as I'm able." Varania's voice took on a note of command; it reminded her of the trapped spirit in Old Crestwood. It wasn't so bad, having power, however it was that she came about it. She understood more now how the magisters became so addicted to it.

"Thank you," Solas said. His eyes were softer now. He cocked his head when he looked at her, as he often did. "I...thank you."

"I haven't done anything yet," Varania said, trying to smile but knowing it was hollow. She looked at him for just a little longer, allowing herself to drink in his presence. Though she knew in her heart that she wanted more from him than merely his friendship, even that was worth reveling in. Especially if it might be all he could offer. Breaking eye contact, she swung her legs over the far side of the bed as if to get up, but she paused, sitting on the edge and looking at her hands.

"You are my friend, lethallin," she said softly. "I would do anything for you."

Solas made a sound as if to reply, but Varania got to her feet and that cut him off. She looked back at him over her shoulder. "I haven't had many friends before. I hope I'm doing this right."

Solas looked skeptical. "You have such a kind heart, it seems unlikely you would have not had friends in your clan."

Varania shrugged, trying to push it off, as if it wasn't so much more complicated than that.

"Things aren't always what they seem to be."

"That," Solas replied with a little snort, "is true."