Chapter Text
“Damn it!” Solona watched her lunch disappear into the forest below Skyhold. Groaning, she gave in to temptation and kicked her feet against the fortresses wall in an infantile tantrum whilst cursing her own clumsiness loudly. However, she was not one to remain angry for long, so she took a deep breath and decided to sneak back into the kitchens and try her luck with pilfering another piece of Solas’s chocolate cake. He probably wouldn’t mind sharing it with her, but everyone knew that stolen cake tasted better.
“This time, I’d better not drop it off a wall! That was a bloody crime against cake!” There came an amused cough behind her, and if she hadn’t been sitting, she was momentarily sure she’d have followed her lunch into the tree branches below.
“Lose something, Herald?” Solona stiffened when Solas’s voice washed over here. Their relationship was an interesting one. She wasn’t exactly suspicious of him, but she didn’t trust him either. For his part, he was wary of the shemlen mage, especially since she seemed to get on so well with Cullen and Leliana, both people he was very distrustful of. But he’d watched her since Haven. She was a mage of extraordinary power and control, and the mark on her hand only seemed to make her stronger. She was courageous and strong-willed when out around the stronghold, or when seen flitting around Haven, but he’d seen her in her alone times, the face reflecting a loneliness and an emptiness similar to his. Then he had discovered her proclivity towards thievery.
A week before she had closed the breach, he had finally… errr found all the ingredients needed to make his favourite dessert. Flissa had been on the warpath after half of her chocolate stash had disappeared as if by magic. First, she had blamed Solona, who was well known for her chocolate addiction, but the blonde-haired mage had claimed her innocence. Then Flissa moved on to Dorian, who had stated that he only liked chocolate handcrafted by young, half-naked men, not the harsh, grainy trash passing for the sweet here in the Frostbacks. She hadn’t even bothered to question him. Solona, however, had eyed him from across the Inn, her face thoughtful. Then, like a dog hunting a bone, when he’d left his long sort after dessert to cool beside the Haven ovens for a moment, she’d made off with half of it. Running past him gleefully, chocolate smeared on her face.
“This is the best, Solas! Thanks for sharing!” He’d followed her, chasing after his treat only to stand there in open-mouthed shock as she’d grinned at him from beside Iron Bull’s tent, hurriedly shoving in the confection, and passing bits up to the qunari and his tevene sidekick – both of whom gave him approving thumbs up. Irritated, he’d returned to his dessert only to find Varric and Cassandra eying the confection with hungry eyes. Grudgingly, he’d given them both a small taste, before disappearing into his cabin and firmly closing the door. The next morning, he’d tripped over a small package on his doorstep, and a note that simply stated:
Thanks, Solas! More? S
The package contained several bars of fine Orlesian chocolate, some roasted nuts and flour. This had started off their very odd friendship. He’d bake something, knowing that she would want some of it, but would never ask. She would wait until he was busy and steal exactly half of whatever it had been. Asking her once during a sojourn in the Hinterlands why she didn’t just ask for some, she had grinned cheekily and stated that stolen food tasted better. He guessed he couldn’t deny that.
Solona climbed off the wall and turned to face the elf, a look of guilt crossing her finely crafted face. “Err…. Hello, Solas.”
“Hello, Solona.” He raised an eyebrow at her.
“I seem to have dropped my lunch off the wall.” She looked at the wall with an artfully crafted look of misery. “Some bear is going to eat my cake now.”
“MY cake. Serves you right.” Solas sniped, hiding a grin. Never in his life had he imagined he’d be teasing a shemlen mage, standing atop the battlements of his own fortress. But here he was, and despite himself, he was fascinated.
Solona smirked. “That’s okay, Solas Dear…. I know where I can get more!” Giving him a gleeful look, she grabbed her staff from where it lay and raced towards the stairs, golden hair flying behind her, yelling out to the Iron Bull and Cassandra as she ran.
“Chocolate cake in the kitchens!! First one there gets it!!” There was an answering roar from the training yard as Iron Bull barely dodged Krem’s charge, and a yell of “It’s mine, Amell!” from near the training dummies. And of course, Solona’s mischievous cackle as she slid in and out of the fade to get there first. Solas shook his head at her antics, smirking because there was no cake left in the kitchen.
“SOLAS!!!!!” Solona’s rage echoed out of the kitchen door, and he leaned over the battlements, the last piece of cake in his hand. He made an extra display of taking a huge bite, before grinning in uncharacteristic delight down at the angrily capering mage.
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Hours later, Solona was back pacing the battlements, below her soldiers, civilians, mages and the like were call working or about to end their day and head inside to the large open fires, dinner and whatever it was that passed as entertainment in Skyhold. From her vantage point, she should see Sera putting up pretty curtains in the room she had claimed for her own. Iron Bull had Rocky dangling upside down from his hand as he moved towards the front door of The Herald’s Rest, Vivienne was walking up the front stairs of the hold, chatting with Commander Helene and Leliana was standing on the balcony of the rookery just watching everything. Solona raised her hand in greeting and got a slight smile in response before the Nightingale disappeared inside.
How things had changed. 10 years ago, she and Leliana would have been sitting before a roaring campfire singing bawdy Orlesian tavern songs and flustering Alistair whilst he tried to ignore them or eat all the cheese Bodahn was able to find. Sten would have been meditating and casting irritated looks at them all, Morrigan would have been pretending that she didn’t enjoy their company, Solona’s mabari Barkspawn would have been chewing on something and dearest Wynne would have been reading or writing letters.
Wynne. It had been 5 years since she’d crossed into the fade. Solona had come down from her mountain retreat to care for her at Kinloch, trying to make her final days pain free. She’d just glared at the Templars who had tried to force her to remain locked in the tower, apparently the boon she’d asked for had never been followed through by Alistair. She had spent the two weeks with Wynne, talking about their travels, laughing about the things she and the others had gotten up to. They’d talked about why Solona had disappeared so suddenly. That had helped too.
After the Landsmeet, and the destruction of the archdemon, Alistair had called off their romance, saying that whilst he loved her, always, that their relationship was doomed and he had to choose a non-mage, wife from the nobility. Solona had left without a word the following day. She knew because of Wynne that Alistair and Zevran had search for her for years. But, she wasn’t without skills, and quite frankly, neither of them knew the full extent of her magical talents. All she’d had to do what cast a glamour spell on herself and change her looks, and they or their searchers had passed her in the street, none the wiser. Wynne said that Zevran had gone back to Antiva and that Alistair had married the Cousland girl, having two sons and a daughter.
Solona was happy for him. She also avoided speaking to him in Redcliffe after Alexius had been captured. It had been 10 years since she’d seen him. He’d aged, of course, growing more to look like the portraits of his father. She knew he’d wanted to speak to her once he realised who she was, but instead she had negotiated with Fiona and swept from the room, ignoring him calling her name. Pushing him out of her head again, she walked toward the high guard tower. The sun was falling behind the hills now, and the shadows were growing longer, the night would be here soon and that was something she never enjoyed. Though, that had changed since she had gained the mark on her hand. Instead of the quiet song of the darkspawn, she just dreamed of her past, and the people she missed. That was better, for the most part.
Looking around, she watched to make sure someone wasn’t keeping an eye on her or where she had gone. You were never sure with Leliana around, or her personal tail Scout Jim. Grasping the prominent corner of the guard tower she started to climb toward the roof. Leliana had been so angry and oddly desperate when she’d finally located her. And that had been completely by accident. Solona had gone to Kirkwall, mostly out of curiosity, but also to keep the warden-commander upraised of her location. She might not be an active warden, but they did like to keep a watch over her. The rest of Fereldan might have forgotten what she looked like, but she was still a hero to the wardens, even if they knew she wasn’t telling the whole truth about how she had survived the battle with the archdemon. She had also been feeling lost, well more lost than usual. Wynne had slipped across the veil in her sleep, and Barkspawn had followed soon after. So, because she always thought her ideas through (cough), she’d jumped onto the first boat out of Highever and landed on docks of Kirkwall.
For a few weeks, she had wandered the streets of Low Town like a shadow. Cloaked in fade magics, she had watched the people around her, investigated her family only to discover that where once the Amell family had been prominent, now there were only four, and technically three of those were Hawkes. For a few days, she had watched Marian Hawke and her sister Bethany, curious about the only blood relatives she had left. But ultimately, she had decided that there was no point in contacting them. After all, they had never tried to contact her either. Logic said that they probably didn’t know about her, but it made her angry that her family had accepted Bethany as a mage, yet she had been sent away to Kinloch Tower are the age of 6 and promptly forgotten about by those who bore her.
The last night before she left, she had walked into The Hanged Man, hoping to say hello to Isabela at least before leaving. She had seen her storming around in Hawke’s wake, her daggers shining, and wanted to grab a drink and reminisce a bit before heading back to the Frostbacks and her lonely cabin. Talking with her and Zevran in The Pearl in Denerim had been eye-opening. Solona grinned in remembrance. Isabela and Zev had invited her back to the Siren’s captain cabin… she’d passed, but had always wondered what she had missed afterwards, especially when her feelings for Zevran had slowly started to change. Walking through the door, she had quite literally walked straight into Leliana, who had fallen into an ungraceful heap on the filthy floor in front of her. Before even realising who she had walked into, she found herself frog-marched into a private room, and shoved into a chair, and a furious Leliana yelling at her, wildly gesticulating and pacing back and forth.
When she paused for a moment, Solona broke in, giving her friend a sheepish smile.
“Hello Leli.”
“Hello Leli? HELLO LELI!? That’s all you say to me after five years?” Leliana’s Orlesian accent getting thicker with her growing incredulity. “I searched for you, from Southern Fereldan, through Orlais, the Anderfels and even Tevinter. We thought you were dead!” Leliana turned her back on Solona and seemed to collapse into herself. “You just… left.”
“I did.” Solona saw no point in lying. “My job was done and I wasn’t needed anymore.” Standing she moved to lean against the wall, carefully watching her old friend.
“Not needed? I needed you, we all needed you. You were the heart of us all!”
Laughing dryly, Solona shook her head. “Alistair didn’t need me. He promised to love me forever, yet he tossed me over for a Cousland before the night was out.” She snorted. So much for everlasting love, she thought cynically.
“He searched for you for three years… I searched for you… Zev… Zev is still looking.” Leliana’s quiet voice broke through her thoughts.
“Zevran is still looking for me? I sincerely doubt that. He's probably having the time of his life in a lot of people's beds and killing Crows.” To think otherwise, would be shocking, though saying those words out loud hurt, she wanted to believe otherwise, but she knew her companion too well - Zevran never said no to companionship. Shaking her head, she moved towards the door. “Look Lel, Fereldan had been saved, my duty was done. All of you had plans or places to go, whilst I had none. I couldn’t stay. I couldn’t watch Alistair find happiness with someone else. Or wait for Eamon to convince people that since the Blight was over, the best place for me would be back in the tower, even though I am a warden. I just couldn’t. I… I saw you in South Reach two years ago. You walked past me many times… but I had to disappear. If I’d stayed… I would have ended up insane or back in a tower.” She opened the door.
“I’m not the person you remember, Leli. That girl disappeared when the archdemon died. I’m sorry. Please… please stop looking. Tell Alistair I’m dead and tell Zev… tell him I miss him.” She did. More than she had ever realised before. It was something to think about later though. Stepping from the room, she walked towards the entrance and out into the night, her hands moving to start the complex spell to glamour her appearance.
“Wait! Sol please!” Leliana’s desperate voice called out from behind her. “Please don’t disappear again. Tell me where you are going!”
“Home. I’m going home. Home to remember Barkspawn and Wynne. Home to hide. Home to learn and read and pretend that I really am dead.” Muttering under her breath, she completed her transformation from blonde-haired and blue-eyed to a more of a Rivaini style with black short cut hair and brown eyes, much to the shock of her former close friend. Feeling sad suddenly, she reached out her hand and softly touched Leliana’s cheek.
“I’m not the person you remember Leli… but… I will write to you soon. To the Chantry in Val Royeaux.” Turning, she made herself meld back into the shadows and seemingly disappear into the night. She watched as Leliana raced down the direction she assumed Solona had gone, calling for her. It sounded like “Please Solona. He misses you. He’s broken without you.” But then the words were lost in the loud rush of Low Town’s night-time rush, after all, why would Alistair miss someone he’d abandoned so easily.
Solona sighed and leaned against the tower gate wall. Now, years later, she understood that running away was hardly a good choice – either time. And she was ashamed of her behaviour when she’d contemplated running from Leliana a few months previously wanting to avoid getting caught up in whatever insanity Leliana had been trying to organise. Now, she was here, leaning against the Skyhold Gate Houses roof, totally involved in Leliana’s insanity. And trying to pretend she was happy about it.