She did not wake kindly.
She was ripped from the hazy blankness of the Fade by a sharp, piercing cold pain in her leg.
Jerking awake her body contracted and she twisted her leg about as if to get away from whatever was trying to stab her. But moving it only made the sensation even more unbearable and her gasps and yelps filled her ears as she scrambled to sit up, hands tearing at sheets and covers to get to her leg.
Her sleepy eyes were wide and uncomprehending as she looked for a knife or a trap—
A hunting trap.
When her memories snapped into place Ellana heaved forward, hands gripping her knee as she bared the brunt of the pain. Her leg throbbed incessantly, reminding each and every nerve how broken they were.
Her eyes shut, but not before she caught the sight of the freshly bloodied bandages dripping bright red onto the bedroll beneath her.
She let the pain wash through her, holding her head in her hands and breathing sharply, waiting for it all to subside.
Having been yanked so quickly from sleep, Ellana slowly leaned back on the cot to fully take in her surroundings.
She found she didn't remember much of where she was, the makeshift camp small but adequate. There was a campfire with its flames long gone, a folded pile of her shoes, armor and extra layers of her clothing, and her staff lay close enough to reach. There was no other bedroll laid out, but a few packs of supplies. Hers and Solas—
"Solas?"
Her voice filled the air of the forest almost awkwardly in its isolation.
There was no reply in the early dew of the morning, the sun not yet broken through the gray sky. No Solas and no Hart either.
She swallowed.
He must be here somewhere? Only he could have been responsible for setting camp and settling her to sleep.
She flushed slightly, looking down at her undone clothes and bare feet.
The memory of his long fingers tracing her skin under the weight of water came back to her easily then, drawing up more memories of those hands entangled in her own, caressing and soothing her skin.
There was heat on her neck and she did her best to distract herself by drawing her legs closer.
She was careful to try and avoid smearing blood on any more of the bedroll, her fingers lightly dancing over the bandages to see about taking them off. If Solas wasn't here then she would need to maneuver around on her own. Not that he had left.
Because he wouldn't, she knew he wouldn't.
The wrappings peeled from her skin in pinches, making her suck in air through her teeth. The skin around the holes from the trap had turned a sicker shade of yellow, tinted with hues of blue around the dark red wounds. Not a good sign.
She raised her hands, fingers pulling at the air around her tentatively. Tingling magic thrummed into her palms, weak but eager. Her hands went to her leg to—
"And what is it you think you are doing?"
Oddly enough, she gasped with a jump, twisting to the side in surprise. "Solas!"
He emerged from the brush, his hand leading the reigns as the large Hart followed, snuffling the air and following him into the clearing of the camp.
His voice had sounded cross, but there was a soft smile on his lips. "Good Morning, Inquisitor."
She let her hands drop, magic gone, returning his caring expression with a smile of her own. "Morning."
"It's good to see you awake," He strode forward easily, letting the Hart amble around the clearing. He came to kneel before her, eyes fixated on the mess of her leg. "Although my suspicions seem confirmed."
"It's festering." She commented softly worry laced in her tone.
"No, just struggling a little to heal." His hands erupted in warm light and magic, the air snapping to attention and seeping into his expertly moving fingers. She watched with intense interest, the cut skin around the holes of her wound growing like unfurling leaves, expanding and stitching together.
"I can't numb you from the pain any longer—not if we want you to heal properly."
"Does doing that stop me from healing?"
"Unfortunately yes." He looked at her with slight regret. "You will have to endure it, at least until we reach Val Royeaux."
"Do you think I could be sick? From the old metal?"
Solas hummed lowly, his hand kindly wiping away some of the dried blood from her leg. "It is a possibility."
"Would they… have to cut my leg off?'
Solas' head snapped up, eyes catching hers with confusion and raised brows. "Cut it off? Why does that solution come to your mind?"
Ellana bit her lip, "I heard that it blackens and needs to be cut before it reaches my heart."
He laughed and the sound had her feeling utterly foolish but relieved. "And who told you that?"
"One of the Dalish hunters from the Exalted-"
"No." He was looking at her with a calm reassurance and a hint of amusement. "Perhaps if we did not take care to keep the wound clean, it would need to be cut. But that is not caused from the rust."
"That's… relieving." She chuckled a bit, before furrowing her brows once more. "But you're still worried..?"
"The rust would cause your muscles to contract. Painfully." He explained. His eyes looked over her body in thought, thumb tracing idly down her calf. "You would spasm out of your control. It is a paralyzing infliction."
Well that didn't sound much better. Solas seemed to catch the uneasiness on her face. "It starts slow, and we will make it to the city with more than enough time to stop that from occurring."
"Of course," She agreed, nodding at him with forced confidence.
"Come, we should eat and depart."
Solas stood from her, retrieving a sack from the Hart's saddle full with fruits he had been gathering that morning. Along with water and dried meat from their own rations, they spent the time quietly eating while discussing their route.
The sun had yet to come even as she gathered her clothes and Solas set to packing the bedroll and campsite.
"Did the Hart eat?" She questioned, getting up to a wobbly one-legged stand.
Solas chuckled while shrugging on his own extra layers. "Very much."
"Does it eat grass and moss like the Halla do?"
"As well as fruits, seeds, and the top of my staff when I am not looking."
She laughed, smiling gleefully at him as he came to her, offering an arm to help her limp forward. She tried not to lean too heavily on him, but placing any amount of weight on the leg was a threat to more pain. Pain she was already trying to ignore.
The Hart seemed to understand the intention, its feet shifting eagerly and its head watching them carefully. It was a beautiful beast with a dark coat of gray that shone blue and hints of red stripes on its hind quarters.
"Does it have a name?" She asked as he helped hoist her onto the saddle, careful to hold her splinted leg still.
Solas seemed to try and recall the idea but shook his head. "If they named it they did not tell it to me."
"Perhaps we should then?"
"Oh? Have an idea?" He teased, his hands brushing past her thigh to climb on behind her.
She tried to ignore the soft whisper of his clothes on hers, the heat exuding from him into her back, and the puff of breath by her ear. His arms encircled hers once more, grabbing the reins.
"Divine?"
She could feel Solas laugh quietly from the slow vibration on her back. "As in, The Divine?"
"She has very large antlers, and it seems as regal as the headdresses of the Chantry." Ellana mused.
Solas shook his head, hands snapping the reins and getting the Hart to a soft trot. It kicked quietly with excitement lacing through its movements. "He does not strike me as Andrastian."
"He? How can you tell?"
"Easily, the females do not have antlers at all."
"Oh. Black Divine then." He laughed much louder that time and Ellana found she loved making Solas laugh. It was genuine and unrestrained, as if he did not do it often or didn't allow himself too. And suddenly she realized that he must not have, if he found himself alone all the time, wandering Thedas without company.
"If you're trying to offend everyone, why not name him Hessarian? Or Maferath?"
"What about Shartan?"
Solas gave a quiet hum of consideration, the buzz of the sound thrumming through her ear. "The question still remains whether or not our Dalish bred Hart would like such a name."
"Falon then." She settled, the Elvhen warm and familiar, "But for 'Guide'. And should he be announced at Val Royeaux, Divine Falon I."
More laughter, Solas' voice hitching into a bit of a snort. "A fine compromise."
She relaxed against him, finding that the awkwardness between them the day before wasn't present any longer.
Falon seemed eager to run, his canter pronounced with a loud call through the woods. They sped further and in a rush the Hart jumped, Solas' arms wrapping quickly around her waist and squeezing her close to him.
"Woah!" Ellana tensed, her head pressed against his neck and shoulder as they landed in a swift movement. Solas looked to her, their closeness causing his cheek to brush across her forehead briefly.
"It seems we will be making good time this morning."
Ellana forced herself to laugh as her cheeks flooded with color. Solas's arms didn't linger around her waist, returning to the reigns. And she couldn't determine if that was relieving or disappointing.
"Solas, are there animal spirits?"
The question broke the silence they had settled into. They had traveled mostly out of the forest, congested trees breaking into hillocks of clear meadows. The Hart, Falon, had taken to sprinting, correcting Solas on his direction for something a little more wild. When they had slowed, the creature breathing heavily, the sun had finally crested on the horizon.
He should have guessed her silence was a contemplative one. Ellana was not one to waste her free time with thoughts that didn't provoke her some way. It was with a welcome smile that he engaged her.
"You mean to ask if there are spirits that take animal form? Or spirits that are animals in behavior as well?"
He let her decide while he considered her far off eyes and the way the sun shone of the edges of her face's silhouette. It was like a kiss of gold leaf on the walls of his rotunda at Skyhold and the urge to mimic the unique vision burned in his fingers.
"Both."
"Then yes."
"To both?"
The curve of his mouth twitched further. "What is it you are wondering?"
"Well… I know spirits can come in the forms of animals. I've come across birds and rodents before… but are there spirits for animals? If animals dream as we do? Can animals become spirits when they die as mortals can?"
Well. That was something he had never contemplated. His mind lit with the topic, trying to dissect the idea to give her some sort of answer.
"I suppose they do dream, but the true question would be whether or not they have the ability to cross the Veil to the Fade."
He looked down at her, only to find those ever curious eyes looking up at him expectantly.
"Oh, you want an answer."
Her cheeks tinted and she looked away. "Well—"
"No, it's alright." He smiled, finding his heart enduring more tightness from the endless actions she surprised him with. Such inquisitiveness. How appropriate.
"Then… no, lethallan. I do not believe they do cross the Veil, since I have encountered no animals in spirit form."
"How would you know?"
Solas frowned deeply, his brows narrowing at the horizon before them.
Ellana twisted in his arms. "Sorry—I don't mean to—"
"I suppose I wouldn't." He interrupted, not allowing her to apologize for wanting to learn, for wanting to understand and grow. Not when he had such compelling lines of thought in her presence.
"I suppose a number of spirits I've encountered could be or have been animals. Especially since we do not know the true extent of their minds in reality... and demons have possessed bodies of animals before. It could very well be because they were tempted as they slept." He chuckled, shaking his head. "Now I wonder at my own encounters!"
He dipped his eyes to hers, smiling fondly. "A perceptive thought, Ellana."
She shook her head, looking away with an embarrassed smile. "A silly one!"
"No, not at all." Not ever. He tried to sound encouraging. Her curiosity sparked passion in him and he wouldn't have her hide it from him.
They carried on, this time unmistakable warmth in their silence. He let his hand settle against hers as it held the reigns. The tips of his fingers pressed against the back of her palm. It wasn't nearly the amount of affection he could wish to impart on her, but it would be have to be enough.
Because there wasn't quite a way for him to explain to her how much he enjoyed her company. Since the smaller fleeting conversations they had in Haven, her presence was a soothing balm of shared interests and compelling questions. Ellana had been a person he had not minded sharing his travels with, perhaps because she so eagerly awaited hearing them. And for the first time, he found himself looking forward to being parted from his isolation to share words or silence with her. It wasn't something he expected from a Dalish.
In fact, it wasn't something he expected from anyone.
He could not lie to himself about how natural it felt, but he did well to ignore it.
As they continued, her head came to rest on his chest and look out toward the sun and he had fleeting curiosity if she felt similar.
No doubt she was more used to company than he was. She must have been close with her clan, how could she not have been?
This could just be something familiar to her. A piece of her clan for her to lean back on, because he was not oblivious enough to miss the way she listened for his words through most of their companions'. It was something that touched him and cautioned him.
But he supposed even if he was only a bit of her home, her nostalgia, it was still… kind to be seen as such.
The musings itched against his mind and he and he tried to ignore them once more. It wasn't important in the midst of everything else.
So he took his smaller opportunities for selfishness, reveling in the weight of her back, the tease of her hair on his chin, and occasional brush of skin from her hand to his nails.
Enough for now, distractions to sate anything more.
"But what about the spirits that—"
Ellana paused, shifting in front of him as her head turned fully to the right, looking out onto the horizon.
Ah, she had finally seen it then.
Solas had been trying to ignore the prickling Veil beneath his skin. His eyes had caught the shifting sky nearer the sunrise, green tinges of light highlighting the morning sky. A rift, to the west over the hillock, alive and crackling in the distance.
"Solas—"
"No."
Her face twisted, eyes looking up to search his. But he knew what she was intending.
"There isn't even room to consider such an endeavor in your state."
"I wasn't going to ask—"
"Were you not?" He questioned looking down at the Inquisitor's guilty expression. He gave her an amused smile. "You weren't going to suggest we go over there?"
She glanced back at the green traces of Fade before she twisted fully, her leg pushing herself up and breast brushing his chest as she faced him.
Solas kept his eyes forward as soon as he caught sight of the imploring expression on her face begin to take hold.
"Hahren—"
He openly laughed at the obvious appeal to him.
"We can't just leave it open out here."
"Can we not?" He argued without looking at her, careful not to lose himself in the upturn of her brows. "How many rifts do you think there are in Thedas? I would wager many, more than accountable for. One more left unclosed will not affect our journeys."
"Yes, but we are here now, we never leave them open once we see them. I'm the only one who can—"
"And therefore invaluable. To throw yourself at one small Rift in your injured state—"
"Ha-''
"No, da'len." He bit out the word. If she wanted an elder she would have one.
Her brows narrowed a bit more before she went silent, looking away from him.
Solas knew better than to think she was relenting. He had admired her from distances long enough to recognize the quiet calculation running through that indomitable focus.
"We do not have to fight anything."
"And how do suppose that?" He indulged, tone flat.
"The anchor can disrupt the rift from a good distance—if we are just close enough for me to focus on it, we can force it closed. The demons would not survive without the rift feeding them energy." Her voice was steady and confident, her authority that of the leader of an entire Inquisition. "So long as we close it fast enough, we wouldn't have to face any demons."
"I—"
"And it's small enough; it won't take much of my energy. And you will be there to cast a barrier as strong as you are able." Ellana placed a hand on his shoulder now. "We can't leave it open. Not when some travelers can stumble upon it and…"
He made the mistake of looking down at her tender expression once her voice dipped gently.
"And the longer it stays open, the more spirits are pulled to this realm as demons."
It was a ploy and yet it wasn't. She said it not only because she knew he would bend to it and also because it was true. He would see it there, in her gaze, the compassion plain on her face.
He gave a hard tug on reigns just as he ripped his gaze away from her.
"Fenehdis, da'len."