Title: But love is blind (and lovers cannot see)

Paring: Ellana Lavellan/Solas, female Inquisitor/Solas

Note: No spoilers for Trespasser, this is mostly canon-compliant. This story is complete, it's going through final revisions and will be posted in four chapters. Other drabbles in this universe are planned. Thanks for reading.

Ellana Lavellan was almost entirely certain that the world was out to get her, and that she was going to die alone in the wilderness -likely eaten by the huge bear hot on her heels - and not even fondly remembered, if she were going to be entirely honest.

She panted heavily, clutching the stitch in her side as she stumbled half-blinded by sweat and blood through the forest. Furious roars echoed at her back as she crashed through the underbrush, heralding her most gruesome death.

Why hadn't she listened to the hunters when they were teaching evasive maneuvers, Ellana lamented sadly. Her mana had depleted to alarming levels, and the singed and stinking fur clogging up her senses highlighted the realization of just how little she could do to protect herself.

It didn't help that her head wound was bleeding like a stuck nug. She opened her mouth on a gasp and choked on the heavy iron of her blood. The ground was quaking, and as she tried to leap gracefully over a fallen tree, one of her foot wraps caught on the log and she was abruptly taken to the ground.

She didn't even have time to be embarrassed. Within seconds, the bear lurched to its hind legs, clearly deriving some petty vindictive pleasure before he chose to rip into her soft belly with sharp claws.

"No!" she cried out, rather ineffectually if she were prone to moments of reflection, which she certainly was not while seconds away from being eaten by a bear. She closed her eyes in her final moments.

Of course, that meant she missed what happened next because of her stupid closed eyes. Bright flares of light, the wounded gurgle of the enraged bear and the ground-shaking thump as it fell to the wooded floor were pretty much all she could make out in the split second between blinks.

She opened her eyes, tentatively glancing around the empty forest. Hushed quiet had settled in the bloody aftermath, birdsong momentarily silenced and the dead bear only inches from her captured foot.

"Hello?" she called, reaching down to untangle her foot wrap. Stubbornly it held fast to the dead bark, and with a sigh of discouragement, she fumbled in her robes for the small pocketknife her cousin had gifted her on Ellana's last naming day.

As she sawed halfheartedly through the bindings she glanced around the eerily silent clearing.

"I mean, if you wanted to come out now, I would be okay with that," Ellana called out helpfully. "I'll even give you a handshake or something if you're a shem, I hear they like that." There was a soft rustling to her right, but no other voice answered her sweetly melodic...shout.

"Alright, fine, I'm sure our Keeper would even throw in a pelt or something. I mean, I'm probably not worth a whole lot, but I am awfully appreciative of the help."

"You quite talkative, aren't you?" came the amused voice of a man to her left as he stepped into sight. She had just finished destroying her foot wrap, and stood up with a disgruntled sigh as it flopped limply around her ankle.

"You wouldn't be the first to say so, hahren," Ellana answered, gingerly testing the bleeding wound on her forehead. She hissed with pain.

Focusing instead on the disheveled appearance of the mage in front of her, she squinted as she surveyed him. He stood casually, his staff gripped comfortably across the front of his body and cradled in his right hand. While his clothes weren't indicative of any particular wealth, his staff was obviously of high quality. She found his face oddly blurry for a moment, but she had the impression of a lot of hair and pretty blue eyes before she found herself glancing away shyly.

"Thank you for saving me," she said, scuffing her bare foot in the forest detritus. Ellana could feel her dark hair slipping loose from her braid, artfully adorned with sticks and leaves. Her patched robes were tattered and dirty, and she had lost her training staff in her mad rush from the bear.

She signed a little more heavily of the thought of having to track it down before she returned to the camp. Her Keeper would not be happy if she had lost it for good.

"You seem woefully unprepared to be out here alone, da'len," the man responded, and though he did not raise his voice, clear disapproval rang in the clearing between them.

Ellana felt her temper snap dangerously close to the surface as a shiver of ice frosted her breath, but clenched her teeth against the rude words she wanted to say. Instead, she swallowed hard, and while she could not smile at him politely, she inclined her head while she angled her face away. "As you say, hahren."

She busied herself by brushing the dirt away from her robes, uncomfortably aware of his close regard though he did offer any further reprimands.

"Well, if you don't want a reward I'm going to go now," Ellana said, starting to edge away.

"What was it you offered? A handshake?" he mused, and if Ellana had known him a little better, she would have said he sounded like he was laughing at her. As it was, his face was still somewhat blurry. Ellana wondered if she needed glasses.

"Ah, yeah, sure. I mean, I know shems love that sort of thing. Always touching hands and faces," Ellana said with all the scoff she could muster with her young little heart. It was quite a bit of scoff.

"And do not the Dalish touch hands and faces?" the man inquired, and now he definitely sounded amused.

"I guess," she answered, but she didn't sound very confident even to her own ears.

The man muffled a cough and moved a little closer to the clearing, though he started strapping his staff to his pack at his back.

Ellana tried not to stare too much, but she hadn't met many men outside of those in her clan, especially strangers. She felt the faintest prickle of unease. He wasn't Templar, not with the staff. Everyone knew Templars loathed mages.

But as he moved closer, his eyes once again captured her attention even if she couldn't make out the rest of his features, and she felt the tension in her shoulders ease. They looked kind.

She offered him another small smile, holding her hand out in the fashion she had seen the humans do. She wasn't positive she offered it correctly, as confirmed when he reached out and gently turned her hand to the side before moving it up and down in a single shake. Ellana laughed in delight.

"I've never had a handshake," Ellana grinned.

"And I've never shaken the hand of a young Dalish elf after saving her from a rampaging bear," the man said gently, the corners of his eyes creasing in what Ellana was fairly sure was an answering smile. She wondered what kind of magic he had that allowed his features to blur outside of the Fade.

"I must go look for my staff now," Ellana said after a moment, reluctantly pulling her hand free. She was sorry to release his hand from hers. She would have liked to practice her handshake again.

"Do you require assistance?" He sounded cultured to her admittedly novice ear, so Ellana figured he was probably someone important. She hadn't met any city elves, but she imagined they might sound similarly.

"No, hahren," she said, shrugging casually. "I'm close enough to my camp that it won't take long now." She looked down at the dead bear at her feet. Flies were already starting to gather despite the coolness in the air. "You want this thing? It was your kill, fair and square. Though, I did do that little patch right there," she added proudly, pointing to a small scorch mark on its muzzle.

"Invaluable," he said dryly. "But no, if your hunters want the remains, they are welcome to it. I do not have the proper tools for a kill this large."

"Sounds good. We could use it," Ellana said softly. She stared at the man for a moment longer, before turning away.

"It is normally custom to exchange names during a handshake," he spoke suddenly after she started moving away. She paused indecisively, glancing over her shoulder.

"I'm...Ellana," she finally answered, not sure why she could feel a bright flush stain her cheeks. She rubbed at her cheek, wincing when it came away tacky with her blood.

"Ellana," he repeated quietly. Ellana let a heartbeat pass, and then another.

"Won't you tell me your name, as well?" she asked. She couldn't decide whether to turn and face him, but again some strange shyness seemed to leaden her limbs.

"Names have great power, Ellana," he finally said. "I have been called many things, and will be called many more things. Remember me simply as the hahren you met that rescued you from a bear in the woods."

Without any fanfare, he melted away into the woods without a backwards glance. What a strange man, she pondered fitfully as she moved in the opposite direction towards her abandoned staff and waiting clan.

She really had some of the worst luck, Ellana lamented woefully as she raced through the caverns and the spit hissing of large, carnivorous spiders sounded perilously close. She tossed flames blindly and the sticky roasting of discharged ichor sizzling in the fire added to the wet, moldy smell of the tomb.

"It had to be spiders," she whimpered as the slick of the rocky floor threatened to send her careening into a sturdy looking wall.

"Go away, go away, go away, ew!" she shrieked as a sailing ball of glowing ichor barely missed her head as she skidded around a corner.

She put on an extra burst of speed as she finally caught sight of the entrance to the cavern and the promise of sunlight and open air. She went tumbling uncontrollably down the crumbing steps of the ruin, firing off another wild fireball at the lunging spiders as they followed her from the mouth of the cave.

She sent up a firewall as she slid painfully on her back down the remaining steps, the snapping pincers bare inches from her feet.

A icy blast darted forward overhead, freezing the spiders in place, and a whirlwind of ice sent daggers through the remaining arachnids. They quickly decided a retreat to the safety of the cavern might be in order. She sent one final blast of flames and a smoking spider curled up in to a tight ball in its death throes.

She tilted her head back in tired relief, trying to catch sight of the mysterious assistant. Instead, she just saw wrapped feet and tight beige leggings step into her line of sight.

"And here I find you once again, Ellana," came the purring amusement from overhead.

She gasped and tried to roll over to sit up sharply, and all she got for her troubles was a woozy sense of disbelief and a raging headache.

"You!" she fumbled, rubbing at her eyes, though it did not bring his face any further into relief.

"I am," he responded, and there was a small rustling as he moved closer to squat next to her. She stared at him in amazement, his face still somewhat out of focus except for the gleaming recognition in those bright blue eyes.

This close to the shoreline, the monotonous lapping of waves at the shells and rocks filled in a somewhat awkward silence on her behalf.

"Sometimes I thought I had dreamed you," she admitted quietly at last. She pushed a few lose strands of dark hair away from her face. She grimaced at the cuts on her hand from the rough stone, wiping them fitfully on her cloth pants.

"I would have thought the bear carcass would have been enough proof," he answered, still squatting next to her while he glanced out towards the water.

She briefly considered pushing herself to her feet but decided against it. The aches in her back and legs hinted she'd regret it, but she didn't want to waste her last healing potion just yet. Goodness knows with her luck she'd encounter hoards of wolves on her way back. She was immediately horrified by her thoughts, quickly muttering a prayer of good luck.

The man stared at her in confusion, but that damned amusement still lingered at the corners of his eyes.

"What were you doing in the cave, Ellana?" he asked, and she shivered at the sound of her name on his tongue.

"I was looking for something," she said, rubbing a hand across the back of her neck.

"And did you find what you were looking for?" he asked silkily. Ellana had never quite understood what that meant. Now she knew.

"...I don't see how that is any of your business," she answered stiffly, turning her face away from his considering glance. She couldn't meet his eyes.

"I helped you once more. I don't see why you hesitate to answer this simple question," he murmured.

"I had it under control," she snapped, hunching her shoulders unconsciously. She didn't want him to see her like this after so many years. She was vain enough to have imagined meeting her mysterious rescuer again under much different circumstances. Romantic circumstances, maybe. Or at least, less embarrassing circumstances. Instead, she couldn't have appeared more like the teenager she really was, and the disappointment made her snap at him angrily.

But all he did was raise his hands in a placating manner, which made her all the more irrationally angry.

She tried to swallow the tightness in her throat. "I'm sorry, hahren. I thank you for the help. Again."

"No, da'len, no apologies necessary. I've overstepped," he said coolly.

"No," she sighed tiredly. "It's fine. And yes, I did find what I was looking for, but it's probably not useful for what I wanted."

Another silence fell between them, somewhat more stilted than the first meeting. Ellana regretted all of her life decisions; but this ridiculous quest had brought him into her life again, however briefly. She just wished she wasn't feeling so damn awkward.

"Would you like to come back to camp with me?" she finally blurted out, a flush staining the tips of her ears peeking through her braid.

"I...don't think that would be wise," he answered slowly, and there was real regret coloring his voice which soothed some of the sting of rejection.

"Do you come from a feuding clan?" she asked softly, brushing another stray strand from her face. It was windy so close to the water.

"I do not," he said stiffly, and now there was a definite coldness to his tone.

"Oh." She coughed slightly in discomfort. "I suppose I should leave, then." But she hadn't stood to move away, and he did not edge back. The icy damp from the stones was starting to seep through her thin pants, and she was vaguely grateful that the cloth was dark enough to hide the wet patch.

"I did not mean to drive you away with my rudeness," he said, as close to an apology as she imaged he ever came. "I thought you were in need of help when I approached. I hadn't realized it was you until I was closer."

Ellana smiled, scrunching her shoulders up in a half shrug. "I seem to have a knack for finding trouble. At least, that's what my Keeper says," she laughed.

The man stared at her, strangely intent. "Our shared experiences would speak the truth of this," he said with vague amusement. There was some sadness, or maybe bitterness, that colored his words, but Ellana could not understand why.

Ellana had dreamed of meeting him again, girlish fantasies of falling into comfortable conversation, some coy flirtation, a brush of her hand on his arm. Instead, she sat with coltish legs splayed in front of her, twisting the hem of her tunic in her hands, too shy to approach but unwilling to leave.

He finally shuffled a little closer, as if realizing some of the awkwardness.

His knees creaked in sharp dismay at the movement.

Ellana desperately tried to muffle inappropriate giggles, bringing her hands up to cover her mouth. "I hear the cold of the sea is not good for the elderly," she finally managed to croak through her laughter, attempting a serious expression.

At his horrified silence, she lost it. She threw her head back in her laughter, almost falling backwards in her mirth. She clutched her sides in wild laughter, a trickle of tears on her cheek cooling the flaming blush.

"H-h-hahren, your f-face," she finally managed to stutter out through bursts of giggles.

"I see," he finally said, sighing in mock disappointment. "Kids nowadays have no respect." The grin he shot her betrayed the lie of his words.

She finally managed to control herself, wiping at the tears staining her cheek.

She froze when she felt his hand swipe over her other cheek, gently gathering up the moisture on his fingertips. Her eyes shot up to his face, watching him though he avoided her gaze. She couldn't speak, the feel of his warm hand pressing to the soft skin of her face.

She shuddered slightly, lips parting. Her tongue darted out, swiping over her full bottom lip absently. His eyes, gleaming in the hazy sunlight of the day, immediately dropped to watch the action.

He finally drew his hand away, shifting to stand and move away from her.

"You should return to your people, da'len," he murmured, adjusting something around his neck.

"What? No, not yet," she tried to say, scrambling to her feet. "I thought we might walk together," she added hopefully, staring up into his face though she still struggled to bring his features into clarity. But he had shuttered any expression she had been hoping to catch, his eyes cool and watchful as he stared at her from a safe distance.

"You have no vallaslin yet, da'len," he said curtly, abruptly changing the subject. He folded his arms across his chest.

Ellana shook her head, trying to follow the change. "No, not yet," she finally said. She was embarrassed again. She did not want him to acknowledge her relative youth.

Many her age had already started practicing the meditation and rites the blood tattoo, soon to mark their ascent into adulthood in the clan. It was yet another strike against her.

"I...I am not originally from clan Lavellan," she finally admitted. "I had been brought in for training, as my other clan had already had too many mages, and Lavellan had none at the time."

He didn't say anything, just watched her thoughtfully in silence.

"I had trouble adjusting." She bit her lip, looking down at her feet to avoid looking into his blurry face. She knew now he was definitely using some kind of glamour to hide his features, but she had not pressed. Maybe he was hiding a hairy wart, she thought. She'd do the same thing if that were the case.

"My...other clan came from the deserts to the west. They were a much harder people. I felt these new elves I had been traded to were weak. That I was weak, to have been traded to a weak people," she continued, her voice lowering further.

"I...resisted. Everything they wanted me to do, I did the opposite. I thought I was so clever," she said, scuffing her foot lightly against the water-smooth rocks underfoot.

"By the time I had realized my error, I was...not welcome."

She huffed out a breath in dismay. She had not meant to share so much. But when she finally found the courage to lift her eyes once more to his, she did not see dismay or condemnation.

"I understand, da'len," he said softly. So softly she could hardly hear him over the wash of water against the shoreline.

"I had thought to ask my Keeper to begin the training to undergo the ceremony, but...I was...afraid of the answer," she said, folding her arms defensively across her belly.

He lifted his head sharply.

"Do not. Do not get it," he said, his voice almost a growl with how forcefully he said it. He took an aborted step towards her. "Do not get the vallaslin. It is a yoke to tie you to-"

He cut himself off abruptly. She squinted, trying to make out his features. "Don't you have one, hahren?" she asked, surprised. Though he did not claim a clan, surely he had been part of one to be so comfortable in the forest.

"I do not," he answered distastefully.

"Ah," she mumbled. She frowned in dismay. "But if I do not undergo the ceremony, I will not be considered an adult by my clan. I can never...I...no, I must. I would be called outcast, a flat-ear," she said, shaking her head quickly.

"And are their words so important to you, da'len?" he asked, his voice tight. "I would implore you to rethink this."

"They are my family," she answered simply. "I could not bear their pity."

He scowled, and Ellana wondered at his passion on this subject. "But I will think on your words, hahren. Would you explain it to me so that I could understand?" she implored.

"You would not like the answer," he said, and he moved to clasp his hands behind his back. His shoulders arched tautly with the strength of his grip. "I would not distress you in that fashion."

"I don't understand," Ellana frowned. "You change your words so quickly, I cannot keep up."

"You are too young to understand," he said, and Ellana felt her insides go cold.

"I see," she answered stiffly. She backed up one step, two more, until she was moving away from him and back towards the direction of her camp. "I will not take up any more of your time."

She could not keep the hurt from her voice. She clenched her fist in anger at the betrayal of her voice. She wanted him to think her as cool and dispassionate as he was.

"No, I, wait-"

He reached out towards her instinctively, though dropped his hand when she did not stop.

"Dareth shiral, hahren." And with that, she turned and fled.

Ellana really thought she should be done running for her life. Honestly, this was just getting ridiculous. Instead, she had a crazy shem leading her to a hole in the sky and a glowing green hole in her left palm.

"What did I ever do to deserve this?" she questioned the universe, shivering with cold and fear. The ache in her palm blistered and shone bright in sick green, the unbearable stretch causing her to cry out in pain.

"It is growing. It will kill you if we wait any longer." The shem, Cassandra, had stern features, fear turning the corners of her mouth downwards.

"Then by all means, let's rush headlong into certain death," Ellana gasped, gripping her wrist tightly to her chest.

Cassandra's left eye twitched. Ellana pretended she didn't notice, and climbed to her feet, wavering unsteadily as she made her way up the barricaded road. She darted and weaved like a drunken nug.

The sudden drop in her stomach as she fell from the crumbling bridge almost brought up whatever breakfast she may have had still left. The scream of the demon almost expelled it out the other end.

"Oh, Creators," she moaned, watching the demon rise up from the ice.

"Stay behind me," Cassandra ordered, whipping her shield forward and sword held aloft. She attacked with a garbled yell.

Ellana briefly wondered if she should stay out of the fight entirely, but when she caught sight of a staff abandoned next to her, she grabbed at it with a mournful groan.

She shot out wild ice magic, hoping to freeze it in place. She wasn't entirely helpful, but when the demon shattered with a long scream of rage, she felt pretty satisfied with herself.

"Drop your weapon. Now."

Ellana huffed in dismay. "Come on, I was trying to help. But I'll disarm and leave all the fighting to you, if you'd like."

Cassandra hesitated, before shrugging her shield back over her shoulder. "I guess it's fine. For now," she said grudgingly.

So they continued on their way, battling grotesque demons, monsters and other assorted riffraff. Ellana grew a little more comfortable with the staff, whipping it around a few times in practice. She desperately missed her other staff, fire coming more easily than ice, but she supposed prisoners accused of killing the Divine couldn't be choosy.

She ignored Cassandra's pinched scowl. The woman needed a spa day in the worst way.

Ellana watched with interest – and admittedly some unease – the interaction between the hooded red haired woman, Cassandra and the Chantry lackey.

When they all turned to face her in expectation, she shook herself awake. "Uh, you're asking me?" Ellana asked, confused.

Cassandra made an impatient gesture. "To break the stalemate, if nothing else."

"Oh, well. Uh, I guess I'd take the mountain path."

Cassandra grimaced, but nodded in acquiescence. And so they went, climbing up the bitterly cold stairs. Ellana wished she had been able to loot a pair of gloves, and blew warm air on her fingers when they paused for a breather.

But the rest was not to last as they moved on to killing a few more demons, and rescuing some shems along the way. No one seemed entirely grateful for the rescue, not that she had expected any differently. She wouldn't argue if it got her out of being shackled in a cell.

And then she was standing in front of a sickly green void, the warp of space ringing a strange dissonance in the cold. She, Cassandra and the dwarf stumbled into the fray, swatting at demons and shades.

A male, warm hands gripping her wrist, thrust her hand towards the green void.

"Quickly! Before more come through!" His voice, harsh with anxiety, echoed strangely for a moment but she lost the thought as a ripping pain tore through her palm and cramped her wrist.

A wave of energy washed over Ellana as the rift closed, a wash of green highlighting the man's features before the noises faded and the light returned to normal.

"What did you do?" Ellana breathed, cradling her palm to her chest.

She watched as he turned to face her fully. Smooth, hairless skin, pointed ears. A cleft in his chin which Ellana had the strangest urge to explore – and wondered at her sanity – and a worn green vest with...what was that, teeth in the collar? A bone around his neck? Ew. Okay, a little strange. Fashion wasn't for everyone, after all.

"I did nothing. The credit is yours," he replied, shifting his stance to cock one hip while he motioned towards her hand.

"Huh. Well, at least it's good for something, I suppose," she grumbled, and the doubt in her voice was obvious to everyone.

"Whatever magic opened the breach in the sky also placed that mark on your hand," he said.

Ellana was pretty sure all of the gods hated her. That was the only reason she could think of that explained why all of these horrible things happened to her.

"I theorized the mark might also be able to close the rifts that have opened in the breach's wake – and it seems I was correct."

Ellana stared down in horror at the glimmering green mark in her hand. Wasn't that just fantastic? She couldn't remember how she had gotten here, couldn't even remember why she had been at the Conclave in the first place, and now this. What the hell had she gotten herself into?

Cassandra strode forward eagerly. "Meaning it could also close the breach itself."

"Possibly," the elf replied. "It seems you hold the key to our salvation," he said, this time speaking to Ellana like that wasn't the most horrifying thing she had ever been told.

"Good to know! And here I thought we'd be ass-deep in demons forever," Varric said dryly. Ellana was pretty sure she caught an eye-roll, and nodded at him mock solemnly. He grinned unrepentantly.

"Varric Tethras: Rogue, storyteller, and occasionally unwelcome tagalong." He winked at Cassandra, who grimaced in disgust.

"Huh. Well...a...pleasure?" Ellana replied, glancing sideways at Cassandra. Varric caught her glance.

"Technically I'm a prisoner, just like you," he said, glancing down at the crossbow in his hands.

"I brought you here to tell your story to the Divine. Clearly that is no longer necessary," Cassandra said, visible pain crossing her face.

"Yet, here I am. Lucky for you, considering current events." Varric didn't seem to hold much sympathy for the shem.

Ellana watched the byplay avidly, unaware of the way the elven man stared so intently.

Cassandra signed. "Your help is appreciated, Varric, but-"

Varric scoffed. "Have you been in the valley lately, Seeker? Your soldiers aren't in control anymore. You need me."

Talk about some unresolved sexual tension there. Ellana tried to smother any visible amusement as Cassandra huffed in disgusted and turned away from him.

"My name is Solas, if there are to be introductions. I am pleased to see you still live."

Ellana turned to stare at the elven man as he gestured towards her. He had a smile on his face that Ellana couldn't quite read.

What an odd man.

"He means, 'I kept that mark from killing you while you slept,'" Varric piped up helpfully.

Ellana looked between them and didn't even want to touch on that comment.

"You seem to know a great deal about it all," she said to Solas, trying – and failing – to hide her suspicion. Solas seemed to understand though, since he quirked an eyebrow as if in approval.

"Like you, Solas is an apostate," Cassandra said, glancing between the two of them with blatant mistrust.

"Technically all mages are apostates, Cassandra." He turned once more to face me. "My travels have allowed me to learn much of the Fade, far beyond the experience of any Circle mage. I came to offer whatever help I can give with the Breach. If it is not closed we are all doomed, regardless of origin."

"How...sensible...of you," Ellana replied, tilting her head in curiosity as she surveyed him.

His eyes seemed to crease with amusement, though his face remained carefully blank.

"Sense seems to be in short supply around here," he agreed. "Cassandra, you should know. The magic involved here is unlike anything I've ever seen."

He turned to face the woman fully, body language relaxed. "Your prisoner is a mage, but I find it difficult to imagine any mage having such power."

Ellana looked at him in surprise before trying to wipe the expression away. Was he trying to help her?

"Understood," Cassandra muttered, nodding her head once in acknowledgment. "We must get to the forward camp quickly," she finished, brushing past Solas quickly.

"Well...Bianca's excited," Varric said smoothly, as he moved to walk past her.

"Bianca?" she asked, walking beside him as they followed behind Cassandra and Solas.

"My crossbow," he said, patting the smooth handle proudly.

Ellana sent him a disbelieving side-eye, but didn't bother to address it. She was surrounded by crazy people on all sides, she thought despondently.

Ellana was officially roped into some shem Inquisition, kindly beaten into submission and forced to go out and gather some goodwill from people that usually had none for her people, and figured it was probably the least surprising thing to happen to her.

So here she was, traveling away from her clan to go help some humans hunt and find clothing and kill some bandits, and pondered what god she could have possibly angered enough to find herself bound up in all of this.

She sat before the fire, watching as Varric, Cassandra and Solas puttered around getting the campsite in order. She absently smoothed a finger along the vallaslin circling her left eye.

"May I sit with you?" Solas asked politely, gesturing to the small leather mat she was sitting on.

She nodded, scooting over a little to make more room while he settled beside her. She waited for him to speak, but he seemed content to watch the flames with her as night descended and the small sounds of the people in camp washed over them.

So she kept quiet, once more stroking the skin underneath her eye. To a human, they would feel no difference in the texture of her skin, but Ellana could feel the slight roughness of the scar tissue, the slick of ink as if it were still fresh.

It gleamed brightly in the firelight, she knew. It was during this time, sitting in front of the fire, that she felt most connected to her vallaslin. To Sylaise. Hearthkeeper, indeed.

She could feel him finally turn to stare at her, watching as she stroked the blood ink on her face.

"I see you have received the vallaslin. Is it...new?" he asked, and if she knew him better, she would swear there was some bitterness in his voice. She wondered if it was because his face was bare. She knew most city elves had...feelings about the Dalish.

"It is not," she answered. "I received it when I was recognized as an adult in my clan."

"Ah."

They were both quiet for a moment, before she finally turned to stare at him. It was his turn to face the fire, pretending he didn't feel her gaze brush over his face.

"You remind me of someone I...met. When I was younger," she said, tilting her head.

"Oh?" he asked. "Someone you met? Not close to you?"

"I didn't say that," she answered. "Just someone I had met only a few times."

"How do I remind you of this person?" he asked, and he turned to meet her eyes this time. The blue of his eyes were hypnotic in the dancing firelight.

"I suppose your knowledge of things outside my understanding, mostly," she said slowly, trying to narrow down the similarities. "He was...male, obviously. An elf. Blue eyes, too. A wandering spirit, it would seem," she said, trying to smile.

She had a feeling it failed miserably.

"Did he hurt you?" he asked, his eyes tracking over her face. Her eyes, downcast. She could almost feel his gaze as a physical touch across her cheekbones. The shaved dark hair over her ears, a soft fuzz against the soft length trailing over her shoulder. Catching on her vallaslin.

She hesitated. "No, not hurt, I suppose. Not physically, at least. I suppose...I was disappointed."

He sucked in a breath, as if her answer surprised him. "How so?"

"He was my hahren," she said, a flush staining her cheeks. She could feel her ears warm in the coolness of the evening. "But I...I was childish, and had childish yearnings. And it is every child that must learn that...well, I suppose that not everything is like in fantasy."

"It's dumb," she finally said, roughly pushing tendrils of hair away from her face. "It was some stupid idea I had that was never encouraged. Disappointed, but mostly in myself for being so foolish."

"I don't...I don't think it's foolish to have such...yearnings," he said, and some of his coolness had faded. The poor man sounded fairly frazzled.

And it finally made her laugh. She could finally laugh at herself, without some bitterness staining it. She grinned at him, shrugging a bit. "Ah well, we were all teenagers once, right?"

He watched her, gaze captured, and she watched him as well. The firelight made his eyes glitter. She didn't normally go for bald guys, but he was definitely making her see the light, so to speak.

"Indeed. I may have done one or two foolish things in my youth, as well," he answered wryly, brows raised.

"Only one or two, hahren?" she teased, hardly noticing the slip at first.

But Solas did. She could see the way it caught him unaware, startled enough to meet her eyes in surprise.

"Does that unnerve you, Solas?" she asked instead. She looked away self-consciously. "I meant no disrespect, of course. As I said, there are some traits you share with him, and it makes me...comfortable, I guess."

"No...no, I don't mind," he answered, and when she finally had the courage to meet his eyes once more, there was a heat behind them that had nothing to do with the fire.

"I'm glad," she said softly.

And with that, they sat in front of the fire in silence, but where there might have once been indifference, there was a warmth Ellana hadn't expected to find in the wilderness but was glad to find all the same.

TBC