They continued talking when they could in the following weeks. Their days were long, filled with the many errands aimed to expand the influence of the fledgling Inquisition enough to get help with closing the Breach. Their nights, more often spent around a campfire than back in Haven, did not offer enough privacy. She would seek him out on those rare evenings in the village, where they returned to regroup and resupply, and listen to his stories.
He told her of Arlathan before the fall and of the other memories he'd witnessed since in the human lands. He kept to the safe tales that would not shatter her view of the world or her people, for fear of exposing himself. But also, if he was honest with himself, he had come to look forward to their talks and hoped with time he could tell her more. Those quiet times of them sitting by the fireplace and sharing knowledge were when he felt the most himself, and he had come to cherish them even more knowing they couldn't last.
For her part she would tell him what she knew of life in Halamshiral before the fall of the Dales and of the everyday struggles of clan Lavellan. He would find himself laughing with her, perhaps for the first time in centuries, at the antics of Dalish youth. Through her stories, through her love of her people they were beginning to take shape in his mind's eye, no longer the pale shadows, but perhaps eventually a people in their own right.
Time would often get away from them and they'd find themselves talking late into the night. He wished they could simply meet in the Fade while their bodies had their much needed rest, but that solution brought with it too much risk.
He offered once to teach her the proper ancient Elvhen language, and she politely declined. "It is only natural for a living language to evolve with time," she said. "That it is different now from the memories of ancient Arlathan is simply proof that we are still here. Though when this is over, I would appreciate your help with some ancient texts we've yet to understand, if you have learned the written language as well."
He was becoming increasingly curious about her people. Of course, there was no question of going with her after repairing the Breach. He needed to recover the Orb and finally get on with his plan. Still, just for the moment he could afford to sit by the fire and enjoy talking. That, at least, was a harmless indulgence, so long as he did not share too much.
Ellana was nothing if not patient. This dance was more familiar to her than she'd like, the dance of two practiced liars making circles around each other, trying to gauge what the other one knew, weighing every word against both the risk of finding the other to be an enemy and the risk of losing a potential ally. The stakes were too high, no matter which way it turned. In this world, in this time, two people like them could not afford to trust each other - and could not afford not to try.
This time she had, of course, an unfair advantage: she knew his face, while he showed no signs of recognising her. That was probably not an act, she did not expect him to remember one short encounter, a few words exchanged, when his life spanned centuries. In different circumstances she might've been more direct, but she was also pretty sure he had something to do with the explosion at the Conclave. At the very least it was clear he wanted to get his hands on whatever caused it.
It didn't help, of course, that the bastard was just so damned likeable. Ironically, in this foreign land, surrounded by religious fanatics that couldn't seem to make up their minds whether they wanted to burn her at the stake or canonize her (and likely will just end up doing both, that would be neater all around), he was probably the only person she could really talk to. Provided she could figure out exactly when he was going to betray her. But until then.
She got a chance to glimpse at perhaps his real intentions when, - and it still seemed insane to think about, - she was thrown into the future, accompanied only by a young Tevinter mage. It'd seem strange company, unless you put it into perspective. Time magic should've been impossible in the world shrouded by the Veil, and even in the before times it was purely theoretical. Which was a blessing, no matter which way you looked at it. The wars Elvhenan waged nearly destroyed the world even without them having an opportunity for a do-over. But now some Tevinter magister figured out a way to do just that.
They were wading through the half-flooded dungeons of Redcliffe, - at least they assumed it was still Redcliffe, - in search of a way up and out when they heard voices. Assuming more guards were on the way, the pair readied their weapons. What they found, however, were just people, prisoners in the cells. Red lyrium protruded from the walls, bathing the already bleak place in sick red light. Some of the people, Ellana realised, had somehow fused with the growth, others still seemed to stand or sit on their own, but all had the same absent look on their faces as if they'd retreated somewhere deep inside. There was surely nothing for them to come back to. They could open the cells, of course, but what could they possibly do then? There was only one kind of help she could give these people.
"Ellana!" a familiar, if weirdly distorted, voice called out just as she decided she'd seen enough.
"That's the elven mage you had with you!" Dorian exclaimed, rushing to one of the cells that held a single occupant.
Ellana examined him warily. As much as she wanted to just open the cell and let him out, Solas was clearly also infected by red lyrium. She could see it in his eyes, in the red haze coming off his skin. He seemed lucid, but she had no idea how red lyrium affected him. Judging by Varric's reluctant account, it could - and did - drive people mad.
"You're alive!" Solas's eyes were wide with shock. He looked quite sick, and somehow diminished, his voice barely above a hoarse whisper. She could only imagine what he had to endure since… well, since she last saw him, however long ago that was. That made it even harder to tell if he was still himself. "We saw you die!"
"No, you saw us disappear," she corrected. "We just got here. Dorian says Alexius has been researching time magic for years, and it seems he made it work."
"Time magic?" He turned to the Tevinter mage. There was more unguarded emotion in his voice than Ellana's ever heard from him before. "Can you reverse the process? If you get back to that moment, you could obviate the events of this past year, preventing this future from ever happening!"
"That's what we're trying to do, we need to find Alexius's amulet, the one he used to cast the spell," Dorian explained urgently.
Solas nodded. "He would keep something like that close. Maybe even with him all the time, it will not be easy to get. But listen, it is far worse than you know: Alexius is not the real threat, he has a master they call the Elder One. He is the one that created the Breach. After you disappeared, he had Empress Celene assassinated and in the chaos that ensued he invaded the South with an army of demons. You must get back and stop him."
"Are you still able to fight?" Dorian asked hopefully. "We could use some help. A lot of it, actually."
"If I can help make sure this world never comes to pass, my life is yours," Solas promised solemnly.
"We'll need to get you a weapon," Ellana said, already working on the lock. There were many keys on the keyring they liberated from one of the guards, but none of them were marked. Finally, the lock was released. "There are bound to be some Venatori with staves we could put to better use."
"Thank you," Solas stepped out. "We may find the others, if they still live. We were captured together."
They did find the others. Not all of them in a state Ellana had ever wanted to see. Still, Iron Bull was a little army of his own, they were three mages, and Leliana was so pissed off that an Archdemon would've backed off. That would have to suffice.
They stepped out of the dungeons into the courtyard… and the Fade. It felt like the many nightmares that hounded her throughout her life, a Dreamer always staying a demon's favourite meal. The sky, the buildings, even the ground felt somehow pliable, different from the waking world even if you ignored that the sky was a green foam of stormy sea. Now that she thought about it, it felt that way already in the dungeons - after all, the Fade was everywhere, didn't matter where you were. Her first thought when she came to herself in this strange world was that she was in a dream, but she brushed it aside when Dorian explained about the time magic. Perhaps her first instinct was true? It didn't feel quite right. As she stood there, staring into the turbulent sky, Solas stopped next to her.
"Without the Anchor, the Elder One found another way to tear down the Veil," he said, and those strange undertones still accompanied his voice, almost like he was two people. "His will is now shaping reality in a very literal way."
"Then we should be able to do it as well," she looked at him as she often did during their missions for the Inquisition, expecting a confirmation that her idea was sound or some clever suggestion how to turn things to their advantage. Instead, the look on his face was utter defeat and guilt heavy as the world. "With the Veil gone our power would grow as well. Any mage's power would, but we are Dreamers, we could even…"
"You're a mage! I knew it!" Dorian exclaimed, positively delighted, reminding her they were not alone - and not speaking Elven.
"That actually explains a lot," the Iron Bull said thoughtfully, filing away new information.
Leliana looked at her with disgust. But that was the same look she's had since they found her in the torture chamber.
Luckily, the only one she had to worry about was Dorian, and he would likely not be with them for long. She just had to stop him from blabbing until he went back to Tevinter… or just stop him, if it came to that.
"This world is an abomination," Solas said, ignoring them. "It is not what it should've been without the Veil, it is a realm of nightmares that answer to one master. The power he wields… he stole from many. You must go back and stop him before he finds a way to enter the Fade again!"
"Then let's go get the amulet," Ellana shrugged, still unconvinced there was nothing she could do now that the Fade permeated the waking world. This version of Solas was not something she'd ever expected to see.
She hung back a bit as everyone moved on, making sure she and Solas were bringing up the rear. Then she switched to Elven and lowered her voice.
"Solas, there's something I need to ask you before I go back," she said quietly.
"Of course," he replied. "If any information I can give helps you save them, I will gladly give it."
"Can I trust you?" she finally asked the question that had not given her peace since she'd met him by an open Rift. He gave her a pained look. It was so unlike him, this crumbled facade that was no longer capable of preventing his true feelings from showing.
"I truly want to stop the Elder One and prevent this world from becoming reality. In this time and in your present," he assured her.
"And that is not quite an answer," she sighed. "I know you, you see. A long time ago you came into my dream. You gave me your name. That was many years ago, before Halamshiral fell."
His eyes went wide. He made a move as if to grab her, but she recoiled, unsure how contagious the red lyrium was.
"You've lived when the People inhabited Halamshiral?" Solas asked, a new urgency in his voice. He lowered his hands and visibly struggled to regain composure.
"Technically they still do," she shrugged. "But yes. I was born in the last years of the Elven Dales."
"Are there others? Like you?"
"Yes," there was a curious kind of relief in not having to hold anything back, knowing if she managed to return to her time he would not remember this conversation. And if she didn't, they'd be dead soon. "I could take you to meet them. If I know that I can trust you."
"Tell me," he implored with a sudden burning intensity. "When you go back, you have to tell me. This could change everything!"
"What are you two arguing about back there?" came the Bull's voice from ahead of them. "We've got Venatori closing in!"
"Tell me," he reminded her with a look on his face she'd not soon forget.