Solas stood outside his new lodgings in Haven, watching the rift that gave an eerie green glow to the night. He was thinking of the last few days and what they had brought. Everything had been a whirlwind of events, and this was the first night where he really had time to relax before giving himself to the Fade in sleep. His thoughts turned to Lavellan.
He remember watching her fight the pride demon in the ruins of the Temple. Her magic had been formidable. A firestorm that had raged under her control. She had also frequently moved with the grace and speed of a rogue to dash in behind an enemy and slice them open with her staff blade. Solas had focused his barriers on her in his wariness of her close quarter combat style which was highly unusual for a mage.
The fight had finally drawn to a close when the pride demon fell and she had lifted her mark to close the breach, but it had proved too much for her. He remembered watching it pull at her and seeing her fight it. He knew the moment it was too much for her when she had gasped and fallen to her knees, still fighting the overwhelming force. When the tether that tied her to the rift had sputtered and faded, her face had drained of all color and her eyes fluttered shut. Solas remembered watching her fall, afraid that it had killed her, dragged all the life from her, as he ran to her side, falling to his knees beside her. Gingerly he placed his fingers on her throat as he felt for her pulse, the faint indication of her life. He almost didn't feel anything, but it was there, faint and weak. Solas had picked her up gently and they had all retreated from the Rift back to Haven.
For three days she had been unconscious, under the care of himself and Adan. Both of them worked tirelessly to make sure she remained alive. For the first day, Solas feared that the strain put on her by using the mark on the Rift was too much for her. She had burned with fever and convulsed frequently. Adan had poured many potions down her throat to help with the fever, and Solas had contributed what he could to help her magically. He sat with her often while Adan was off working on the alchemical needs of the growing army.
While alone, he had continued to study her mark, while occasionally having to hold her down while she convulsed, or giving her the next dose of potions as prescribed by Adan. Though more often than not, he just ended up sitting and staring at her, thinking about the People and the world as it had become since he had awoken. There hadn't been much else to do for her. Just waiting for her body to decide to give out or recover.
After three days she had awoken. It was one of the few times she had been alone. Solas had regretted not being there and taking advantage of the opportunity to speak with her alone about the mark, trying to get some answers of his own. To get more information from her regarding the events at the Temple. Instead, he had been off getting some food with Varric who had poked his head in the door, taken one look at Solas, and demanded that he come take care of himself as well. He had reluctantly agreed because she had been resting peacefully for almost the whole day. As they were finishing up their meal in the tavern, they heard a commotion outside as the people began to move toward her house. They were whispering about the Herald of Andraste, as they had taken to calling her, finally wakening.
Solas and Varric had shared a look and then moved outside, following the lines of curious humans. As Solas had moved deftly through the crowd, he had seen her. Lavellan was moving cautiously forward through the path the people had made for her, all staring, and she looked very uncomfortable at all the attention she was getting. As she had made it to the Chantry though she had been swept up into the planning of a war on the breach as the Seeker and the other leaders formed the inquisition around the idea of the Herald.
Lavellan had moved through the human motions and formalities with very little protest. Solas had heard her once say that she didn't even believe in the Maker much less Andraste, so how could she be the Herald? He had laughed at that, though she hadn't heard him. Didn't she know that her beliefs didn't matter to them in the slightest as long as they had their symbol? Solas knew she would learn that lesson very quickly as the humans made her, an apostate and an elf, the figurehead of their movement. She had eventually relented her protests, and let the others lead her, and now they were planning on her taking a trip to the Hinterlands tomorrow to gain Chantry support from a Revered Mother who had requested to speak with her.
Lavellan had seemed bewildered but willing to help. She had come to speak with him once after the leaders of this inquisition had given her their advice and direction. She had approached him cautiously as well, and they had talked for a time. Solas had told her about the Fade and the memories he had lived there. He had also implied his disdain for the Dalish and she had taken it all in stride. He had been surprised at her curiosity and questions about the Fade and how he traveled it. He was also surprised though that she didn't take insult to his scorn of the Dalish. Lavellan had asked as many questions as she could, and expressed genuine interest in his answers, until she had been called away. Solas saw her later, questioning Varric with the same curiosity on her face.
As Solas stood enjoying the cold night, thinking about these events and her reactions, he noticed the very person on his mind sneaking through the village. There were still a few people walking about at this late hour, but it was quiet as most were in already in bed. Lavellan was lurking in the shadows, deftly avoiding most people and casually nodding or holding small conversations with others, and quickly waiving them away as she excused herself. When her face caught the light, Solas saw something in her eyes that concerned him. Something about her strained expression reminded him of the look a caged animal would have as it looks for any means of escape. He followed her, his concern growing as he silently questioned her intentions at sneaking out this late.
She slipped through the gate and walked out toward the lake. Solas followed quietly behind her in the shadows, and she didn't notice him. It helped that people didn't hold the same interest in him as they had with the Herald, so they didn't stop to speak with him. Mostly he was just ignored by these humans, and he took advantage of that fact. He watched as she casually walked past the guards and the tents set up for the soldiers outside the gates. She walked the path that led through the trees and to a small shack that led around to the side of the lake. Solas was getting a sinking feeling. If she was planning on running he would have to stop her. They needed her to close the breach.
He was several feet behind her, fully hidden in the shadows of the trees, when she stopped behind the shack, just before the hills opened into the wilderness beyond. She turned and looked behind her, glancing around to make sure she was alone. The look on her face gave Solas pause. It was the face of someone in anguish, and the intensity of that emotion surprised him. Confident that she was alone, she turned back toward the open area in front of her, and started sprinting.
Solas, shocked from the look on her face, sprang after her, but kept himself hidden in the shadows still. For some reason, he had hope that she wasn't running away. He felt the need to trust her, and at the same time chased her silently, a silent assurance that she would return to where she was needed.
She ran for a long time, dragging her legs through the snow, and at her full speed, until he could hear her panting and see her breath on the cold air, just as he was gasping quietly himself from the chase. She had made it around the far side of the frozen lake across from Haven and there she suddenly stopped abruptly. Solas halted himself as well, catching his breath, still trying to stay hidden from her view.
Lavellan stood very still for a moment, but then she fell to her knees in the snow. Solas could see her shaking from where he stood, but he wasn't sure if she shook from the cold, or from the effort of running so hard. He watched silently as she leaned forward, putting her hands in the snow. She sat that way for a moment before leaning back on her heels, turning her face to the sky she let out a cry of anguish at the stars. His heart clenched at the sound. It was a sound he recognized. She was so young, and here she was, standing at the focal point of a human religious war against a magic she didn't understand that had ripped open the sky and marked her with power. Her experience outside her clan was probably minimal as one so young, and the Dalish ideas about tradition and culture were stifling. He knew she was probably drowning in the new and strange culture that clung to her.
Leaning against the tree beside him, Solas watched as the elf sat there in the snow after her outburst. After a time she let herself fall to the side and onto her back in the snow, which was just deep enough to block her from his view completely. She laid there, puffs of breath on the cold air the only evidence of her presence, until she finally sat up. Solas drew back again into the shadows. She was facing him now and more likely to see him or sense his presence.
Lavellan stood and brushed some of the snow from her clothes. She looked around, sighing heavily and started trudging through the snow slowly back in the direction of Haven. Solas stayed behind her, out of sight. He would have walked with her or spoken to her but didn't want her to feel shame that he had seen her emotional outburst. She trudged through the snow, now shaking from cold and she wrapped her arms around her torso, but she didn't head down the path, where he had expected her to turn. Lavellan walked straight for the lake and the dock that sat unused across from the lights of Haven. She reached the end of the dock, crouched down and brushed the snow away from the edge before sitting with her legs dangling over the edge.
Solas stared at her as she kicked her legs, like a child would do from a chair that was too tall for their feet to touch the ground. She was never doing anything he expected her to do. He watched again, contemplating her actions and reactions. He was close enough to see her clearly, but not too close to be detected, or so he thought. Lavellan turned after a moment, and looked straight at him, without having to scan the trees, and spoke.
"Well, are you going to join me or not?" She smirked and turned back to the lake.
Solas stood still for a moment. How had she known he was there? Was he not being as careful as he thought? No, as the Dread Wolf he knew exactly how to move silently. Maybe she was just more perceptive than he gave her credit for. He stepped from around his hiding place and walked toward her. As he approached, she swept more snow off the dock beside her, clearing a place for him to sit. He sat in the offered place beside her and said nothing, glancing at her from the corner of his eye. Her face was red from cold, and her eyes still held sorrow. Her clothes were wet from lying in the snow, and her hair was tangled and dripping. All in all she looked a mess.
She glanced at him before looking out at the lake, and gave a halfhearted chuckle.
"You thought I was running." She stated it like it was a fact. And she was right. That was exactly what Solas had assumed.
He smiled at her apologetically, and looked toward across the lake as well to Haven.
"Yes. I apologize."
Lavellan shook her head.
"It makes sense. I sneak off in the dark and start sprinting away as fast as I can? I would have assumed the same." She shook her head again. "I... just needed a moment... away from all that." She gestured at the village. "Its been too much to take in... after everything that's happened." She frowned.
Solas chuckled. "I completely understand. I imagine you have a lot on your mind. I should not have intruded, and for that I am sorry." She nodded but waived it off with her hand, already forgiving him.
They sat in amicable silence for a time. Solas found it pleasant. He had almost come to believe that people in this time couldn't sit in silence. They always insisted on talking, filling the air with useless conversation, or if there was silence it was unbearably awkward. This silence was comfortable. It was peaceful.
Solas ended up speaking first in his curiosity, as his mind turned to when she had called out to him.
"When did you realize I was following you?" He watched her face carefully as she glanced at him.
She sighed, but it wasn't a sad sound, just a tired one. "When I turned to come back. I didn't know it was you, Solas, but I guessed. Only an elf can follow someone so silently, for so far." She smiled at him easily.
Solas nodded, smiling easily back at her. He considered what he had seen though and asked, "Are you alright?" Solas was remembering her desperate sprinting and her anguished cry.
She hesitated and looked away, hiding her face from him. He hurried to reassure her that her answer wasn't necessary.
"Ir abelas. I shouldn't have asked." He said softly. She shook her head though, already answering.
"Its fine. I suppose it would be better to have someone to talk to. It's lot of things honestly. I haven't really had a true moment to myself since waking up in that cell. I have been surrounded by people from moment I wake up until I drop into bed at night. They are calling me the Herald of Andraste. Me! A Dalish mage." She gave Solas a look of incredulity as her quiet admissions began to build into a rant of frustration, but he remained silent so she would continue.
"You know, this is my first time even leaving the clan! I can count on both hands the number of interactions I have had with shems before this." She stood unable to sit still any longer and began pacing on the dock, walking away from him and then back.
"I barely know anything about these humans and their politics or religion. And they are asking me to be a Herald for a god I don't even believe in! I don't even know much about the Maker, or Andraste! Now I'm supposed to be her Herald? How am I supposed to do that?" She scoffed and stopped her pacing, with her back to him. She let out another sigh and he saw some of the tension leave her shoulders, and her hands which were clenched, loosened until her fingers relaxed, hanging limp.
"I wasn't alone at the conclave you know." Her voice caught with emotion and Solas knew she had reached the main reason for her anguish. All of them had been rushing around in a panic, using her to try to fix their problems. It had never occurred to even him that she had not been alone. Solas should have guessed. What kind of Dalish keeper would send one young mage out by herself to a human conclave? Lavellan had been helping with the Breach as much as she could, trying to hide her grief until she could get away for a moment to mourn. And he had followed her, expecting that she would abandon them in cowardice. The truth was sobering and he felt his admiration of her grow. After a moment she turned back around and sat next to him again. She didn't cry, but he knew her emotions were still raw and near the surface.
"Our Keeper sent us to the conclave to watch the proceedings and report back on how things were going." She spoke almost at a whisper. Solas nodded, it made sense that the Dalish had been invested in watching the outcome of the conclave. After all if the Templars were allowed to roam free and eliminate all mages, then the Dalish would have to change their own tactics involving the interactions with humans. All clans had a few mages among them. It satisfied his question as to why she had been in attendance in the first place.
"He was the first, apprentice to the Keeper. I was the second." She still spoke very quietly, emotion heavy in her voice. "I haven't thought of how I'm going to tell them yet. That he is dead." Anguish rippled across her features and she put her face in her hands.
Solas once again felt his heart going out to this girl, this young Dalish. She was sincere and kind, not like any of the other Dalish he had met. Maybe he could be a friend for her, if he was careful. He gently placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.
Lavellan dropped her hands and looked at him. She smiled a little at his gesture and he removed his hand. They sat again in the comfortable silence, which was broken by her this time.
"You know, I don't think I ever really asked. How did you come to be here?" She gestured again at Haven.
He smiled a little, again with her questions.
"I walked in and presented myself to the Seeker, offering assistance." He attempted a lighthearted tone to try and cheer her up.
She stared at him for a moment, and then laughed. It was still a little strained, but a true laugh.
"You just handed yourself over to Cassandra? Wow." She chuckled and Solas grinned.
"I have always been one for rash decisions that put my life in peril." He said seriously but his eyes glittered with humor. She shook her head at him.
"Seriously. I would have guessed Cassandra would have killed you on sight."
Solas considered. "No she needed me, but I could see the thought tempted her often. You were speaking in elvish and apparently I was the only elf in the area kind enough to volunteer my services." She gave him a confused look.
"I was talking? What was I saying?"
"Mostly just the same thing over and over." He glanced at her and she raised her eyebrows in a silent question. "You kept saying 'Be strong'." He repeated to her the words she had spoken and a blush crept across her face and ears and she turned away.
"Ah. That." She took a deep breath. "Its kind of a thing I say to myself when I'm... struggling." She seemed to flounder for the words, embarrassed at her admission.
Solas, sensing her uneasiness, moved on in the conversation. "I revealed your secret words to the Seeker." He smiled at her. "And she deemed them less than useful, which of course irritated her to no end." Solas noticed that he smiled easily in her presence. "From then on I was more of a healer than anything. And a fighter when they needed me on the battlefield."
She nodded but didn't comment.
Solas watched her. She seemed comfortable again, and some of the sorrow had left her face, though she still shivered from the cold and wet that now permeated her clothing and hair. Her lips were beginning to turn blue.
"We should probably get you back before you get sick from the cold." She smiled at him, made no move to leave, and closed her eyes. He felt her pull her magic around herself, it curled around her body and she heat it up with her fire. He leaned back watching, eyes widening slightly. Her magic glowed a little while it swirled around her and the heat dried her clothes and hair, steam rising a little as she evaporated the water. When the water on her was gone and the air was considerably warmer around them, she stopped her spell and opened her eyes, which were glittering in amusement at him. Solas had seen spells like that before, but not since the days of Arlathan, when mages could exercise exact control. Most in today's world didn't seem to have the control required to not set themselves on fire.
He smiled at her, concealing his shock at her indomitable focus and control over her magic.
"And why didn't you do that sooner?" He asked, smirking, with a hint of sarcasm in his voice.
She laughed at him as she began to undo her long hair and work her fingers through the tangles. She shrugged as she worked.
"I guess I just hadn't thought of it, until you said something." He rolled his eyes at her but the smile stayed on his lips. He was beginning to like her, though he would never admit it was more that idle curiosity. She didn't do anything he expected, even in her smallest actions.
"Where did you learn to do that? That has to take an incredible amount of control." Solas asked casually. Not revealing any of the burning questions in his mind.
She shrugged again. "I saw it in a dream once when I was young. I had just discovered my magic and I wanted to learn it. Trust me, it took me a long time to singeing my hair." She laughed.
He wondered if a spirit of the Fade- maybe one of wisdom or hope?- had decided to show her a memory of magic that was lost to this time. He probably would never get his answers. He was impressed that she had that level of control. But he changed the subject, not wanting to seem to interested in her display.
"You said you didn't believe in the Maker. Do you believe in the Creators then?" Solas added, watching her deftly re-braid her long hair into its crown on top of her head, expecting her answer to be what any good Dalish would say.
She stared ahead, looking at nothing. "Sort of."
"Sort of?"
Solas looked at her pointedly, until she sighed and continued, finishing tying up her hair which now looked like it had never been tangled and mussed in the first place.
"I suppose I believe that the Creators existed in the time of Arlathan. But they are long since gone. I don't know if they were gods, or just really strong immortal people." She laughed at her own description. "But I believe they once were leaders of the elves, and maybe they did wonderful or terrible things. But they are gone. They have been gone for over a thousand years now, or longer. If our stories are even right, then the only one left would be Fen'harel." She scoffed a little again.
Solas stared at her for a moment. It was strange to hear his name this way, as a long distant, possibly non-existent deity. But it was also such different opinions from what he had heard from the Dalish so far. They were proud of the few things they thought they knew and most of it was wrong. But they are also unwilling to accept any changes to what they believe happened in the past. To hear her doubt about the facts the Dalish held onto was very refreshing.
"So you don't believe as the Dalish do?" He queried. She wrinkled her nose a little.
"Not really. Some of their stories and beliefs just seem too hopeful. Like they are grasping at anything from their past, even if it doesn't make sense. And why worship someone who wont ever answer your prayers?" Her voice held a little bit of a bitter edge and he wondered if she had believed once, but had lost that faith in the face of the god's silence.
"Some would say that is what faith is. There is no faith if there is proof." She glanced at him.
"Do you believe in the Creators then?" Solas shook his head and she sighed. "I believe in the things in front of me. Let a god come talk with me for a while and I will believe in them." She smiled at him.
Solas chuckled at the irony of her words. Wasn't that exactly what he was doing? "I agree. I do not believe they were gods. Though I do think they existed once. Let me ask you though, you say 'they' like the Dalish aren't your people?" She glanced at him, looking uncomfortable.
"I wasn't born a Dalish." She seemed distressed with where his line of questioning was turning, so Solas stifled his curiosity at this strange enigma he spoke with, and changed topics.
"The Dalish have always assumed much in their attempts to reclaim the past. I have not seen much to support them in my travels in the Fade." She latched onto the change in conversation.
"You keep mentioning that. You are going to have to teach me how to do that one of these days. I would love to explore the Fade's memories."
Solas smirked. "It does take a certain amount of focus and control to manipulate the Fade. You might be up to the task."
She smirked back at him. "Might be? You doubt my abilities?" He laughed quietly.
"No. From what I have seen you are very skilled." She genuinely smiled at that, but then sighed the smile still resting on her lips.
"We should head back. I don't want anyone sending out a search party for us. Plus we need to leave early tomorrow."
Lavellan stood and offered her hand to help him stand. He took it and she pulled him up, letting go of him as she turned. They walked slowly back towards Haven, once again in silence, listening to the night and their footsteps.
As they entered the village and reached the spot where they would go different directions, Lavellan stopped and Solas turned to look at her. She was smiling at him, and she looked more relaxed than she had since he had first seen her.
"I thought I needed to be alone for a while, but I'm glad you ended up following me. It was nice to talk to someone who doesn't look at me like I'm the prophet of their god." Solas smiled back at her.
"Of course. Anytime, Lavellan." She scrunched her nose at the name, wrinkling her vallaslin.
"Please, call me Ellana. I have too many names these days. If you call me Lavellan I may not remember to answer. But I have gone by Ellana my whole life."
Solas smiled at her reaction. She was sometimes so childlike, and other times so serious.
"Very well, Ellana." She grinned at him and turned to walk towards her house. Solas stood there, looking after her for a moment. Happy that he had talked with her. She was interesting and vibrant. So different from any of the elves he had met after waking up. And the fact that she didn't grovel after the Pantheon, like other elves were prone to do, made their conversation pleasantly surprising. The cold, logical side of him was saying it would be easier to gain her trust if they were friends. He pushed it aside though.
As Solas watched her slip into her house and close the door behind her, he turned to head to his own rest. His movement came to a halt though as he saw Varric sitting at his normal camp fire, smoking a pipe and staring at him, with a glint of mischief in his eyes.
Varric laughed as Solas raised his eyebrows at him, questioning.
"Seems like I am watching a romance unfold between our resident elves." Varric waggled his eyebrows at him suggestively.
Solas rolled his eyes, scowling, and moved to go past Varric all together. Varric laughed.
"Whoa, whoa, Chuckles. Just commenting on what I saw!"
Solas stopped, and glared at him.
"We went for a walk Varric. Please don't spread false information that could hurt Lavellan's reputation when there is no truth behind it."
Varric shook his head, suddenly becoming serious.
"I wouldn't. Poor girl has been thrown into a mess here with all this Chantry business. I won't be the cause of hurtful rumors thrown into the mix. I am happy she opened up to someone though. I was starting to see the stress wearing on her. I was going to offer my own sympathetic ear soon if you hadn't done anything."
Solas nodded and Varric tapped out the ashes from his pipe, cleaning it out with a finger and placing it in his pocket.
"Well, goodnight Chuckles. We got a long walk ahead of us tomorrow." And he slipped into his tent.
Solas moved toward his own house, finding rest before they would leave for the Hinterlands in the morning.