Chapter Text
Another moment of respite.
Well, not technically - she probably should be back in her cabin, reading through whatever notes Josephine had dropped off this morning, or getting ready for their next field mission, which should be any day now. But she just... needed some air. Some time out of that damned cabin - Ilaera was not used to having four walls closing in around her at all times, being stuck in one spot for so long. Sure, it wasn't like she couldn't just walk out and get some air, look at the sky... but the second that she did, there were gawkers, onlookers. People needing something from her, whether it was to look over some report or for her to "bless" them as the Herald.
She still detested that term. That she was being hailed as some figurehead for their religion - hardly anyone had acknowledged the irony that she is both an elf and a mage. That this conflict between Templars and mages was still raging in the background - a fact she would witness firsthand in the Hinterlands very soon, apparently - yet by emerging from the Fade as she had, Ilaera was now somehow one of the most important people in the Inquisition.
She hadn't wanted this. Didn't need any of this. She'd just wanted help finding any surviving clan members, getting revenge on the shemlen who had killed them.
Though, she had to admit... this had certainly been a distraction from facing the fact that her entire family could be gone forever.
Ilaera mused over this as she walked, twirling her staff in the air. She may not be great with magic, certainly not as good as she should be at this age - but damn if she didn't know some fancy stave twirls. Perhaps she could do some target practice while she was out here avoiding other duties...
But the sight of someone in the distance, leaning down in the flowers, made her stop short. Was that...?
"Fancy meeting you out here," Ilaera called as she approached, still twirling her staff, more careful now not to send any pulses of energy through it.
"Planning to make a bed in the flowers? Dream in the Fade?"
It felt good to be outside of Haven for a moment. After all the mayhem of the Conclave, things had finally settled down a bit, allowing the mage some time of his own. After he was given a break from the infirmary, the elf had taken the opportunity to unpack some of his scarce belongings and in doing so, he had noticed that most of his painting supplies had gone to waste.
A great opportunity to scavenge the tones of Ferelden , he thought, before he ventured into the quiet fields that surrounded Haven.
He didn’t know exactly how long he had spent gathering flowers but his attention was soon caught by approaching footsteps. Not even looking up, something in him tingled playfully. Strong magic was drawing near.
“Herald,” he smirked absently. “I’m surprised you were allowed some time for yourself. Or do you seek me for something?”
Saying that, he turned to face her, granting her a polite smile.
“I’m flower picking,” he said, slightly embarrassed. “I wish I could say it’s healing supply but I’m just being a fool I suppose. “
He paused, hesitating for a minute.
“It’s for coloring paste,” he said, unsure why he kept justifying himself.
She shot him a vague, mildly annoyed smile at the title that everyone insisted on using. She wondered idly if he only used it ironically - though he wasn't Dalish, he certainly didn't talk or act like a city elf. And he hadn't shown any signs of believing in the Maker, or Andraste...
Still. It almost felt like a little joke, addressing her as such.
"Oh, I wouldn't say I was allowed time for myself... but I took it anyway," Ilaera answered with a shrug, resuming the absent minded staff twirling. "Though finding you out here was a pleasant surprise."
Her eyes swept over her admittedly attractive elven mage companion - he was certainly a fount of knowledge, always appeared so stoic and serious - at least, that had been her impression during the brief time she'd known him.
So when he answered 'flower picking', Ilaera couldn't help but stumble a bit in her approach towards him, nearly dropping her staff to the ground.
" Really ! That's... no, not foolish at all." For whatever reason her heart warmed at the explanation. She hadn't thought of him as the creative type, though with "Dreamer" as a title, she probably shouldn't be surprised.
"I didn't realize you painted," Ilaera continued, sliding up next to him in the flowers, re-hooking her staff to the holster on her back. "Does it... help, with retaining information you saw in the Fade? In your dreams?"
“Interesting,” he said. “I have never done that, actually. I have a dream journal but I never painted anything I’ve experienced in the Fade. Maybe I’ll change that, thanks to you.”
He twisted around, shoving another flower in his bag as he glanced around, taking in the scenery once more. It was quiet here, simple and calm which highly contrasted with the activity in Haven. He was surprised that not more people would wander off here.
With this thought, he also took the time to observe the woman before him. It had been an interesting journey for her and if things unfurled like he thought they would, it was far from over.
“Are you alright?” he asked as he stepped towards another interesting flower. “I’ve never been able to ask you the question without someone present. I believe this is the first time we are alone together.”
She beamed, not unlike the expression she used to make when her Keeper would give her rare bouts of praise. "I've been known to have a good idea or two," she replied in an amused tone.
Then he turned to her with that piercing blue gaze - so much intelligence lay behind those eyes. Ilaera knew she could learn much from him, if he had any inclination to teach her.
Still, she was surprised at the question - no one had asked her that save Varric.
"I'm... not really sure how to answer that," Ilaera said with a half-smile, evading the question to avoid speaking about her struggles from the past few weeks. "But yes, prying ears surround us at all times, it seems." After a brief pause, she continued, in softer tones, "Are you all right? You don't have vallaslin, but... did you leave behind a clan or any family to come here? To help?"
“Ah, yes,” he nodded slowly, shifting his weight so he could face her properly. “I figured you would wonder where I came from.”
He laced his fingers behind his back, his gaze wandering away from her and reaching for their vast surroundings. He was not fond of making up stories but he knew people normally felt more comfortable with information that placed him in the world.
“I am not Dalish, as you can tell,” he said. “I never belonged to a clan nor have I been part of any alienage community. I know it may seem strange, but what I've always done was travel from place to place. I am a curious man and staying in the same location for too long makes me feel like I’m missing something.”
He studied her for a moment, his eyes scanning her face to see if his words were enough for her.
“I suppose you can say I was on the road when I became aware of what was happening at the Conclave.” He gave her a polite smile as he gestured to her hand. “Lucky encounter. Almost fateful.”
Her eyes sweep down his body as he tucks his hands behind him, admiring Solas' lithe frame. He was rather handsome... though, she thought the same of many men and women she had come across in the Inquisition. Really, she should probably stop staring. Instead she turned her gaze to the fields laid out in front of them, admiring the way the mountain breeze swept through the flowers. Maybe she could hide out here more often, fall asleep in the flower beds...
His voice brought her back to the present. "So, you have no attachments, then?" Ilaera questioned with a raised brow. "No one to meet up with, go home to...?"
She didn't know why she was prying like this. But as he studied her face she felt a slight blush creep onto her cheeks - Creators. What was it about his eyes that got to her so easily?
At his gesture she brought up her left hand on instinct, reaching towards the still foreign magic to let it flare to life briefly. "Lucky indeed... or fate, yes," she murmured. "As Varric mentioned that day - I would have died were it not for you. I'm... I'll always be grateful for that. I imagine it wasn't easy convincing Cassandra to save the life of the person she thought responsible for the destruction."
Solas’ lips tugged upward ever so slightly.
“I’m a wanderer,” he shrugged, his hands still locked behind his back. “I’ve left many people behind in my journeys but no one is expecting me to come back.”
He held back a chuckle. It was unexpected but something pulled at his guts, a playful feeling that taunted his mischievous side to come out. Maybe it was this ease they had together, a connection he had not experienced in some time.
“But I’m here; you don’t need to worry about me disappearing into the night,” he said, relaxing his arms. “If the mark ever acts up again, I will make sure to assist you to the best of my capacities. I will also offer my aid for as long as the tear is active.”
She briefly returned his half-smile, though his next words had her brow creasing in worry. She hadn't actually thought he truly had no one...
They were the same in that regard, she supposed.
"Solas, that's -" she stopped herself for a moment. He seemed perfectly fine with the situation; and likely didn't need her sympathy. From what Ilaera could tell of Solas, he preferred his solitude, anyway. "Well. Now you're surrounded by people at all times - I can see why you come out here," she finished, echoing his casual shrug. At his laugh she relaxed, the sound prompting a grin to flash. 'Chuckles' indeed.
"Good to know, though. I would hate to have to convince Cassandra and Cullen not to chase after you," she said lightly, bending down to pick up a blue flower before inspecting it and tossing it into Solas' basket.
"In terms of the mark..." Ilaera began, unsure how to broach the subject, "how - how do I make it stop hurting when I close a rift? I'm not the most magically talented person, though of course I can hold my own when I have to... and I'm practicing," she quickly assured, "but if there's some way to...get better, to maybe merge this magic with mine?"
She was floundering. The painful rift closings had weighed on her, and truthfully, there was a lingering twinge of pain at every waking hour - and sometimes when she was sleeping - but that pain was manageable. It was the closing of rifts that brought her the most grief.
He heard the sympathy in her tone, appreciating it even though he never felt the weight of loneliness one day in his life. He understood more than well how a Dalish elf could not fathom the thought of not belonging to a people. He even wondered for a moment if he had simply forgotten what it was like to be longed for…
“Yes, while I welcome the camaraderie Haven provides, I still need the quiet from time to time.” he said, glancing back at the village. “But this is nice, I appreciate you visiting me out here. I feel like we both enjoy the silence, even in the company of others.”
He eyed her as she picked up a flower to add to his collection. He caught it with his hand as she threw it in, tucking it to the side of his basket where he kept a pouch for other findings. That type of flower, once crushed, released a certain acid that would spoil the rest of the colors and ruin whatever painting it was used on.
He smirked to himself, touched by her desire to help. He now meant to keep it for other reasons…
“I might be familiar with the magic but this mark is…Something different,” he said to her as she voiced her concerns. “Until I can study it further and take note of its interactions with rifts, it is difficult for me to know how to help.”
He politely reached for her hand, waiting for her to allow him to touch it.
“If I may,” he said with a brisk nod.
"Mm, yeah, I can see that. I don't mind being around people usually- at least I never did back with my clan - but this whole 'Herald' thing can be... grating," the elf said with a wince. She needed less alone time than many people she knew, and even this place was too much for her sometimes. "But, hey - if you ever find yourself in need of solace - " she smirked at the word, "- feel free to pull me out here for 'mage training' or something. Mythal knows, most people will keep a wide berth from that."
Her smile returned as he caught the flower - he was faster than he looked, apparently. She noted he didn't keep it with the other flowers but instead tucked it away on the side - perhaps she'd picked wrong? At least he hadn't thrown it away outright. Oh well.
Ilaera turned her gaze back to him, listening intently. Of course, no one at Haven knew as much about the Fade as Solas did, but even his knowledge had limits. The Breach, the mark... this was an entirely new situation, new magic even, though Ilaera knew there were mages who worked and manipulated the magic of the Fade.
"Guess I'll have to bring you along to more field missions," she said lightly, though she was oddly excited at the prospect. "And, um - yeah, go for it."
She thrust her hand out towards him, willing the foreign magic to flare.
At the touch of her hand, Solas immediately felt the pulse of magic emanating from the mark. At first, his reflexes urged him to quiet it by wrapping his hand tighter around it but he quickly loosened, knowing that the mark was no simple flame to smother.
He shot a weak pulse of his own magic against it to see the reaction it would give. Alas, it was as he thought. The mark was entrenched in her and there was nothing other than amputation that could separate the two, leaving the mark completely useless which was absolutely not an option.
“There may be a way to stabilize it even further but that would require time,” he said almost to himself. “Isolating it is impossible.”
He allowed himself to linger there, his fingers sometimes pricking at it to engage it further. While he had touched it before, this was the first time he could spend time with it and observe its reactivity.
“Am I hurting you?” he suddenly stopped himself, realizing that all the probing could be painful to her.
The mage flinched as he gripped her hand tighter, though he quickly relaxed his hold. She felt more than saw the magic he sent to feel it out, and she found herself staring at their entwined hands between them. Studying the magic, she told herself. That's all.
"Well... as long as it's not killing me anymore, I'm sure I can deal with a twinge of pain here and there," Ilaera interjected nonchalantly, giving a shrug to emphasize her point. "Besides, I've only closed… five or six rifts now, I think. It'll probably get better with time." She hoped, anyway. It had been an effort those past times to hide that it caused her pain from her traveling party in the Hinterlands. Maybe if she studied it on her own...
She lost her train of thought as he began to gently probe at the mark physically, her eyes flicking between their hands and studying Solas' face. He was deeply concentrated; Ilaera could only imagine the theories he was crafting with his extensive knowledge of the Fade.
Oh, he has a small scar on his forehead, wonder how he got that...
His voice snapped her out of her slight daze. "What? Oh, no, it feels fine - more like the feeling you get when you sit on your hands for too long; not painful." She flexed her fingers slightly before squeezing his wrist once. "Any new conclusions, oh mighty Fade expert?"
“Sadly, no,” he sighed, allowing his eyes to linger a bit longer on the Anchor. “I’m afraid only time will tell when it comes to that thing.”
He delicately peeled his hand from hers before stepping away, feeling he had allowed himself to be a bit closer to the woman than he normally would. There was no point in denying that he was intrigued by her but he preferred to retain a comfortable distance for now.
“I feel I have taken a lot of your time,” he said briskly. The warmth of her hand still burned in his. He wrung his fingers to chase away the feeling. “Can I walk you back? I’m sure people are starting to wonder where you are.”
She chuckled at how seriously he took her remark - like he was truly disappointed in himself, or perhaps the mark itself. "Well, I'll keep an eye on it and let you know if it starts trying to kill me again," she joked, trying to brighten his spirits.
As soon as he pulled back, Ilaera folded her arms across her chest, feeling the need to look anywhere but at him. Creators, it had been a while since she'd been touched by someone, even as simply as that. 7 months on the road to the Conclave... she was still recovering from that solitude, it seemed.
"Oh, let them wonder," she replied easily, acting as if her hand didn't still feel the absence of his. Nah, that's just the mark burning, Ilaera reassured herself. The mage slid her staff from her holster with a flourish. "Appreciate the offer, but I did come out here to practice, so... think I'll go find a big rock to hurl some spells at," she continued with a shrug.
She watched for a moment as he walked away. Ilaera was grateful for the company, for another elf mage in their ranks, and one so uniquely knowledgeable about the Fade, at that. She'd have to ask him about his journeys there, some time...
And as she practiced her magic, she would ignore the pull she felt towards him as he disappeared into Haven.