Solas,

Ma'vhenan, I don't know where to send this letter. Honestly, I don't even know if that is your real name. Leliana's people say the village you gave as your home was a ruin when they found it. An ancient ruin. I began to suspect after Halamshiral, but it did not matter to me that you are one of the true Elvhen, an ancient woken by the chaos. I suspect it was Kirkwall that woke you, for you to have had time to adapt, wander, and dream as you did. For you to feel as disconnected from the People as you do. I knew after the vir'abelasan that you are one. I tried to reach out, hoping that, though I am a shemlen compared, it would not matter if I said I knew the truth and yet still you delayed and put me off, you said 'after Corypheus.' Then the orb broke, and you were gone.

You do not know the consequences of that trip to Crestwood, vhenan. More than losing you as my other half, what felt like the loss of my closest friend and confidante, the loss of my vallaslin and the feeling that the Dalish had at least some knowledge that had been preserved intact. I do not know how to put the words to parchment. They should be said in person, although at this point, it would hardly be a surprise, slim as I am. Cole tells me the child is a boy, and that the Anchor hurts him.

It's why I need you, more than just for myself. Our son needs you. Dorian, Fiona, even Vivienne, and every mage in the College of Enchanters are desperately researching and doing everything they can to save him. The midwives and healers say if I can carry him just a few months longer, there are herbs they can give me and that he'll be born early, but he'll safe and alive. The words that always hang in the air unspoken are that they don't think he'll last that long. The voices from the Well all whisper 'abelas' and 'din'an'. I am so very afraid, Solas.

Copies of this will be placed in every ruin we visited in the hopes of one finding you. I see you in my dreams sometimes, and when I call to you. hoping that it is you visiting me as you did before, the howling winds like those after Haven tear the words away. Please come back. Save us.

Mala vhenan bellanaris,

Fen'lath