Chapter Text
She glanced around in her small room, making sure to stuff her three most valuables into her small satchel: her roll of parchment, her quill, and her small ink bottle. All of those were luxuries, but she needed them to get by in life. When all the world sounded so far away and muffled that proper sounds and words couldn’t be made out, it became difficult to communicate. She, Samahl, had been born of Clan Lavellan. She’d had a relatively normal first few years of her life. She struggled to remember what real sounds were and to remember the sound of her mother’s voice when she called Samahl’s name, but...it had been so long that it was a terribly foggy memory, drowned out by the warbled, nearly impossible-to-hear sounds she had heard for the majority of her life. Sometimes in dreams, she would hear people speaking and various noises, but she wasn’t certain if she was dreaming them properly. When she’d barely turned five and the loud explosion of magic went off right by her ears, she remember crying and screaming in confusion and terror, blood draining from her ears. She only knew she’d been screaming because she could feel the soreness in her throat.
She’d tried for a couple of years to adapt and hope that her hearing would return to her, but it never had. Before long, without constant practice, she forgot how normal syllables sounded. When she tried speaking, making her voice louder in case she was speaking too softly, since she couldn’t tell, the other children just laughed at her and made stupid faces. She hadn’t spoken since. It was difficult to communicate, but she had gestures that she and her parents used for basic things. When she glanced around, she saw the pitied and irritated expressions of the other adults. Even as a child, she understood why. How could she help the clan as she was? She was nothing but dead weight. She couldn’t hunt, she wasn’t a mage, she couldn’t even listen to learn new skills to be the craftswoman or anything like that.
When the day came that she was kicked from the clan, it was no surprise. Thankfully, her parents went with her so that she wouldn’t be alone and probably die in the wilderness before she ever had a chance to get to some sort of civilization. They wound up in an alienage in Kirkwall, but conditions there were so horrible… She still recalled the awful stench and the filth of the city. They stayed just long enough to find a way to replenish supplies, then they pressed on. It was a long journey. A long and painful journey. Some time after they crossed the Waking Sea, a man approached them. Samahl hid behind her parents, peering around their waists to see what was happening. She saw the knife in the man’s hand just as she was shoved forcibly back by her mother.
Her father attempted to fight the man off, but was unsuccessful. She’d seen his blood stain the dirt in the ground, just before he fell. Her mother rush at the man in a frenzy. Samahl ran and hid herself, tears pouring from her baby blue eyes and running down her cheeks. She saw the already bloodied knife pierce her mother as she fell to her knees. The man started to walk past her, towards Samahl, but she yanked the knife out from her stomach and forced herself up, stabbing it into the man’s back.
By time Samahl had the courage to rush to her mother, she was long gone.
She sobbed and wailed in mourning, but she knew she couldn’t stay there. When she had lost all her tears, she stared longingly at her parents, then grabbed what she could carry, and pressed on. She didn’t even know where she was going. Her parents had tried to tell her, but she couldn’t understand anything past the fact that it was a city. Before too long, she found herself in Denerim. Well, she hadn’t known the name of the city for quite some time. She’d found an alienage and wandered into it, looking desperately for any sort of help. Thankfully, an older woman took her in and it didn’t take her long to figure out why Samahl couldn’t communicate well. So, the woman taught her how to read and write. With those skills, she managed to find a job that didn’t require much communicating, but she had enough to get by and make a little bit of money to support herself and the woman. When the old woman got sick and passed in her sleep, Samahl had found brand new parchment, a quill, and ink in a small box with a bow, tucked away under some blankets.
Since then, Samahl lived alone in Denerim. The others in the alienage didn’t interact with her much, almost treating her as if her deafness was a disease in and of itself. She didn’t mind too much. She just kept to herself and practiced her reading and writing when she wasn’t working. She would go outside of the city walls and find a nice spot out in the forest to sit, enjoying the scent of the fresh air compared to the city.
Today was such a day. It had a beautiful blue sky with almost no clouds. The sun was warm and inviting and a gentle breeze blew through her short sandy blonde hair. The moment she walked past Denerim’s gates, she took a deep inhale and a smile tugged at her lips. Days like this made her wish even more that she could hear the birds chirping, but when it was so nice out, she couldn’t complain much. Even the feeling of her bare feet in the grass as she kicked off her worn shoes felt incredible. It was nearly a feeling that couldn’t be described.
She made her way into the trees until she was well out of sight of the city and picked a tree to sit down and lean against. She did so with a soft sigh and set her satchel in her lap. There were a few warm sunbeams breaking through the canopy to shine on her skin. Her smiled never faded as she closed her eyes, basking in the sun’s glow. She wanted to practice her reading and writing, but it could wait until she’d had a pleasant moment to herself.
When something that felt suspiciously like a hand touch her shoulder, her eyes flew open and she jumped, her breath catching in her throat from gasping. The person who had touched her took a couple steps back, hold their hands up in the air. She clutched at her chest as her heartbeat raced. She hated when people snuck up on her.
The person before her was a man. He was bald, though he didn’t appear to be old enough to be bald naturally. His brows were a shade of auburn, his eyes were a steely blue, and the clothes he wore looked rather rough. Judging by the bag on his back, he was a traveler. When his lips began moving, she tried to focus on them to see if she could recognize any words he spoke, but he was speaking too quickly for her. She could at least tell by his demeanor that he meant her no harm and he hadn’t meant to frighten her.
Once she managed to slow her pulse, she waved her hands in front of her, trying to indicate to him to stop. She recognized the confused expression as his lips stopped moving. She’d seen it time and again. She reached up and tapped at her ears, then pointed between herself and the man. It seemed to take a moment for him to catch on, his hands lowering. His lips parted and he nodded. Ah. He then pointed at his own ear and spoke again, but his lips moved too quickly again. She at least managed to catch enough of the words to piece it together. You cannot hear me?
She shook her head, then held up an index finger and dug into her satchel. She sat back down on the ground as she pulled her things out. She set the ink at her side, spread out the parchment in her lap, and readied her quill. She kept her handwriting small so that she could entirely cover the parchment with more words before she needed to buy more. She also tried to keep her words brief to conserve more space. Samahl , she wrote. Deaf.
When she glanced up to look at the man, she was startled once more. He’d sat in front of her, a respectable distance away, while she’d been pulling her things out. She had been so focused that she hadn’t noticed him moving out of the corner of her eye. She passed the parchment to him, offering the quill and ink bottle. He nodded and accepted them. He scribbled a little, then passed it back to her. Thankfully, he must have noticed her other words written out on the paper that were small, basic sentences. He kept his simple as well. She also noted he had rather elegant handwriting. Apologies for startling. Solas.
Solas was his name? She glanced at him with intrigue. He didn’t seem particularly prideful. Then again, she wasn’t running around with laughter, so she had no right to jab at his name. She gave him a small smile and nod, trying to assure him she didn’t hold it against him for spooking her. He then wrote another word on the paper. Denerim?
She took her things back. Yes. Not far. Business?
Traveling, he wrote in return.
Samahl stared at him with more intrigue. It was strange. Most people, regardless of race, tended to veer away from her quickly when she didn’t speak back to them. It was almost as if they believed that they could catch her deafness. Or they just treated her like she was stupid. Though it angered her for a long time, she’d learn to let it roll off her back. There was no sense at being angry at the ignorance of the population for her entire life. She kept to her own business and no one bothered her, not even the city guards. It was easier for everyone that way. Yet here was a total stranger that sat before her and was giving her her first real conversation since she’d lost the woman who took her in. Gratitude and happiness swelled up inside her. Need bed?
His brows raised. Surprise, perhaps? Certain?
She nodded. She wasn’t going to very well leave a man who was kind to her, even for a few moments, alone to face the dangers in Denerim that existed for… Well, normal elves. He gave her a grateful look and she could tell he had said Thank you.
When she vaguely explained that she was enjoying the outdoors, he did not seem perturbed at all to continue sitting there with her. He did put a little more distance between them, but that was just so he could also lean his back against a tree after he shrugged his bag off his shoulders. Samahl looked at him curiously for another few moments, then pulled an old, crumpled scroll from her bag and unwound it. It was something she’d found on the streets and it seemed dull - something about some noble and his affairs - but she wasn’t about to pass up any opportunity to possibly spot new words and try to deduce their meaning.
She tried not to take too long so that she didn’t keep Solas waiting, but when she looked up, he had his eyes closed and his head laying sideways on his shoulder. Had he dozed off? She watched the light rise and fall of his chest. Perhaps he had. For a brief moment, she stared at his strong jawline and his lips, wondering what his voice would sound like. Was it low? Tenor? Did he have some sort of accent? Did he speak any elvhen? She didn’t know too much, herself, but she remembered the lovely way it sounded when the clan spoke it.
The thoughts made herself sad. There was no point in lingering on something she would never know the answer to. She tucked her things in her bag, then stood. She saw Solas shift and when she looked back at him, he had roused, blinking several times. Perhaps he hadn’t been too deeply asleep. She gestured for him to follow. He grabbed his things and walked at her side. She eyed his staff, hoping that trouble wouldn’t find him the moment he walked into the city.
Thankfully, it did not. There was no physical trouble, at least. She saw him glance around, though occasionally his brows furrowed and an unpleasant look crossed his face. She would just leave it up to her imagination what people around them were saying. She didn’t care to know. All she figured was that since he walked with her, others would be too wary about getting too close.
When they walked into the alienage, she saw him nearly glare at the area. Had she offended him by offering him a play to stay? Perhaps he was used to better quarters. Her head hung a little as she led him into her small living area. It only had the one bed that she used and very little else other than a couple other articles of clothing she had and a couple of scavenged blankets. She waved her arm out, inviting him in. He stepped inside and bore an expression that Samahl wasn’t sure of. Was it concern? He raised his hand and made gestures in the air, magic crackling along his index finger. She stared in wonder. He was writing in the air with magic . How brilliant! She’d never thought of anyone doing that before! She shoved aside her awe and focused on the words themselves. I do not want to intrude what little space you have.
She shook her head and pulled her things from her bag. I invited you.
He frowned, seeming to ponder it over. I will sleep on the floor.
No. I will. You take bed.
He made a stern expression, something that reminded her of a parent scolding a child. She scoffed internally at that. He was not old enough to be her parent, at least. Still, he insisted again, I will be fine on the floor.
He was a stubborn one.
They set their things down and Samahl offered him what little food she had. He refused to take any unless she had some as well, so she made sure to take a couple of bites out of the slightly stale bread. She was excited to have him in the little box she called home, but that alone confused her. She normally kept away from others and hadn’t expressed much of an interest in anyone before. She watched people and their normal lives from afar, though not for too long, lest she start longing for the desire of companionship. There were nights she had cried herself to sleep, wishing there was someone at her side to comfort her and understand her. Perhaps she was excited because within just a short time, she already felt as though this Solas understood her more than the people in the alienage, with whom she’d lived for many years.
She was so excited, she even drummed up more conversation with him. She asked him how long he planned to stay. He told her for only a couple of days, but to let him know if he was intruding for too long. She assured him he was not and likely would not wear out his welcome any time soon. She then asked if he had any specific business, to which he shrugged slightly and said not really. When she mentioned that she hoped she hadn’t caused him any offense by bringing him to the alienage, he denied that fiercely. I don’t feel that elves should have to live like this, he wrote in the air.
She had to admit that traveling sounded much more appealing than living in an alienage, but she couldn’t very well do it. She couldn’t hear when someone - or something - would sneak up on her, so she wouldn’t last very long on her own. She tried not to entertain the thought of it. She was in Denerim, likely for the rest of her life.
When night fell, after one more insistence, she slept on her small bed, but offered the blankets to Solas to use. He rolled out his bedroll he used in his travels and gave her the blankets back. She found it hard to sleep that night. She tried to imagine the soft breaths that a person had when they were sleeping peacefully, wondering what his sounded like.
The first day, she gave him a quick outline of the safest places he could go in the city before being met with trouble, being an elf. She apologized to him for not being able to take him personally, but she had to work. He gave her a soft smile and told her not to worry about it. She hurried off into the city. Even while she worked, lifting heavy boxes and shifting them from one place to another, she found herself thinking about Solas several times during the day. Where had he traveled to? What sort of places had he seen? What stories did he have to tell? Where would he go next? What was he doing in Denerim? There had to be a reason.
When she got home late that evening, he was there, waiting patiently. He’d been peering at one of the old scrolls she’d read through, apologizing for snooping. She explained their purposes and he raised an eyebrow. As she sat down, offering him slightly fresher food than what she’d had the day before, he pulled a book, a real book, out of his bag and flipped it open, handing it to her. Her eyes bulged as she hesitantly took it, worried it would turn to dust if she touched it. It was written in the King’s Tongue, thankfully, but from the way the words were strung together, she could tell it was a complicated book. How was a traveler well educated enough to read it? When he offered to help her with it, she had to resist the urge to throw her arms around him in a hug. The back of her mind itched a question, though: Why was he being so kind?
She tried not to let that bother her. They ate and looked over the book, Samahl being extra careful to make sure that she didn’t get any crumbs on its pages. It was late, later than she should have stayed away, before they turned in for the night.
Several days passed like that. She went off to work and spent the money she’d made that day to buy food for herself and her guest. Some nights, he was waiting for her, other nights, she waited for him to return. He would always just say he was ‘looking around’, but never got too descriptive. She was curious, but didn’t push him. His business was his own, after all.
On the evening of the sixth night, he tapped her shoulder from behind, only slightly startling her. He’d been considerate in getting her attention without causing her too much fright, but she was getting used to remembering that he was in the small space with her, so she tried not to be too surprised when he touched her. When she turned to face him, his brows were raised. There is music outside, he wrote in the air.
She gazed at the letters for an extra moment. She still loved seeing them hanging in the air. Celebration, she replied.
He glanced from her to the exit of her room. Do you not want to go?
No point. No friends. She also tapped her ear with a shrug. She couldn’t hear the music. She’d tried once before to go and enjoy herself and bask in the feeling of the party. However, it only made her feel more lonely. In the firelight, she could see all the smiling faces, stomping and dancing, couples leaning against each other and kissing each other. Friends were laughing and tugging at each other to join the dance. No one even stood near her. She decided she would be happier if she just didn’t go.
Solas did not seem pleased with this response. He pursed his lips, then held his hand out to Samahl. She stared at it with confusion. When she glanced back up at him, he jerked his head towards the exit. He wanted to go? She didn’t understand why he wanted to bring her along, but she supposed she shouldn’t deny him that if he wanted to go. Hesitantly, she slid her hand into his and he led her outside.
Torches were lit everywhere, casting the area in orange light, the shadows dancing as much as the elves were. When she looked around, Samahl could see a few of the elves gathered in a group, playing on old looking instruments. Judging by the stomping and twirling elves, they still worked just fine. There was a large fire that many people were dancing around, clapping their hands. To her, it all sounded like faint, gurgling noise. Solas’s expression seemed to be rather neutral as he looked around.
They walked around a little, people avoiding them slightly as they passed by. Samahl felt her heart speeding up once she noticed that Solas had not yet let go of her hand. She didn’t tug it away, though. The feeling of his warm hand wrapped around her gave her far more joy than she should have felt. The actual touch of someone was something she had not experienced in quite some time. When he did let go, she felt disappointed, then scolded herself for feeling such a way. He had stopped moving. He was facing another elf, one with a basket of flowers. Samahl frowned in confusion at his back. His hand went to the small pouch on his waist, pulling out a coin. When he turned back around, he had a red flower in his hand. He held it up, breaking part of the stem off, and gestured towards Samahl. More specifically, her head.
He wanted to put it in her hair? She felt her cheeks warm as she gave a small nod. He set the flower in her hair, just above her right ear, stepping back once he was sure it wasn’t going to fall out. He gave her a soft smile and took her hand again, leading her on.
The flower felt so heavy in her hair. Why had he done that? What was the point? It was incredibly kind of him, but...why? Perhaps it was just his way of thanking her for giving him a place to stay. Surely it wasn’t anything more than that. Still, she smiled as she followed along behind him.
They wandered around the celebration for a time longer. Samahl snuck looks at Solas when she saw his face, watching how the shadows fell across his face. He seemed interested in all that was going on, but she kept seeing so many other expressions that were gone within the blink of an eye. He was a strange man and she was fascinated by him. Still, when he finally told her he was okay with turning in for the night, she didn’t mind in the slightest. When she slid into bed, she set the flower beside her, staring at it until she fell asleep.
Her dream started out a little strangely. She was standing just outside of Denerim, looking out towards the forest she normally walked to, but there was no one else around. When she turned and looked at the city, it was deserted. Not a single person or animal was in sight. Even for her, the silence suddenly felt heavy. She started walking towards the forest, where maybe she’d spot some wildlife to give her peace of mind, when the hairs on the back of her neck raised.
“Samahl.”
She froze instantly. Was that...her name? That was her name, wasn’t it? She had… Had she heard it? There was no way. Even in her regular dreams, when she imagined sound, she couldn’t hear complete sentences or clarity of words. Yet she’d just heard it, cleared than she could ever remember. It was a man’s voice, of that, she was certain. It had come from behind her. She turned slowly, almost scared of what she would find.
She stumbled backwards a little when she saw Solas standing before her, hands held up much like the first time she’d seen him. He lips parted and- “I am sorry. I do not like startling you.”
Such clarity. His words… His...his voice. How lovely it was. It was perhaps the most beautiful, the most heavenly thing she’d ever heard. She felt the sting of tears in her eyes as her own mouth gaped slightly, her gaze intent upon Solas. He looked alarmed. “I’m sorry, but...why are you crying, Samahl?”
He said her name again. He’d spoken again. Did he not realize how godly his voice sounded? It sounded even more wonderful than she’d imagined. It was the best sound she’d ever heard...and he’d said her name. She didn’t even try to stop the tears, but she put a hand over her mouth, gasping slightly. Her heart leapt into her throat.
She’d heard herself! She’d heard the rush of air! She was almost tempted to try and speak. What did she sound like? It had been nearly two decades since she’d last spoken. Her voice had to be incredibly different. But then she remembered the laughing faces of the Dalish children in Clan Lavellan and her heart sunk back down into her stomach, weighing heavily. Even if she did speak, she didn’t know how to properly piece the syllables together anymore. She could imagine them in her head, but performing the act would be an entirely different thing. She closed her mouth and whimpered.
There was another strange noise. Solas was moving closer to her. The shuffling of his clothes. The sounds of his footsteps on the ground. It was too much. Too much. She fell to her knees, taking loud, sobbing breaths. What was this sorcery? Was it Solas, casting some sort of spell? Was that even within a mage’s powers? But she had no other explanation on why she could hear so clearly!
“I’m sorry. I was inconsiderate. This is probably extremely overwhelming for you,” he said quietly, his face apologetic. He knelt before her.
No, she wanted to say. Please speak more. Don’t stop. Let me hear everything you have to say. Instead, she whimpered again. She shook her head at him.
He pondered for a moment. “This...has made you happy?” She nodded and relief showed on his face. “I see. I am glad, then. I am curious, though… Will you not speak?”
She was tempted, she really was. When she averted her eyes, he hummed in his throat. Creators, even that sounded positively radiant.
“I assure you, you have nothing to fear from me.”
He said it with such confidence. She looked back at him, as if questioning him. When his expression didn’t shift, she took several deep breaths, trying to calm herself. “So...las…” she muttered, instantly feeling embarrassed. She had probably pronounced it some stupid way and the tones in the syllables of his name didn’t go together at all. Her tongue felt heavy and awkward in her mouth.
However, his smiled broadened. “There. Could you hear yourself, as well? Try again. My name is Solas.”
With the pronunciation, she felt more assured. She tried it again, a little louder. “Solas…” Her voice sounded incredibly foreign to her ears. It was high, higher than his, for certain. It just sounded...gravelly. Unsure. Unpracticed. Nothing like the musical lilt in his voice.
“Excellent,” he praised her. “I wasn’t certain if this would work.”
“H-how…?” She hoped he would understand. She didn’t want to try and speak too much and butcher the spoken language.
“Do you know what a somniari is?”
She shook her head. So, he explained to her. He kept talking, more and more. She listened, she really did, but it was hard to focus when she was just wanting to close her eyes and listen to the sound of his voice forever, not the words he was speaking. The most she understood was he was a talented mage that could go inside of other’s dreams because of the Fade. The Fade was something she wasn’t too familiar with. She just knew it was something that existed. She wasn’t a mage herself and hadn’t been around the clan long enough to learn and the old lady that took her in taught her nothing of it.
When he stopped, she almost leaned forward. She didn’t want him to stop speaking. Panic then set in. He was a traveler. He was set to leave soon. When he left, did that mean she could never do this again? Would he even do it for her again, if she asked? “Take m-...me...with you?”
The question seemed to startle him. He looked towards the ground. Not a good sign. “I...would not recommend it. It is dangerous out there in the world. You are much safer here.”
“I want...to.”
“Do you know how to fight?”
Her head hung in shame. She knew she was asking for something incredibly unreasonable, but the thought of not hearing his voice again pained her deeply. Still, she mumbled, “You...te-teach me?”
“I’m afraid I would not be a very good teacher,” he said apologetically. “I’m sorry, Samahl. Again, this was inconsiderate of me. I was grateful to you for all you’ve done for me and I…” He narrowed his eyes. “I can see that your spirit is bright. Much brighter than all that is around you, but you are smothered here. Yet...out there,” he gestured towards the forest, “is even more dangerous than what you face here. I just...wanted to bring a little bit of joy into your life before I moved on.”
Her tears flowed even more. A little bit of joy? Just having him around had brought her that much. For him to cast some spell and visit her dreams so that she could hear?! That was something that simply couldn’t be described. What he had just done, even once, meant more to her than anything else in the entire world.
“I am sorry. I will be gone by time you wake.”
She inhaled sharply, but he faded away when she blinked. She looked around hurriedly, searching desperately for him. “Solas!!” she shouted, so loud to her ears, but she didn’t care. Why had he said that? Had he mistaken her tears for those of sorrow? Was he worried he had made a mistake? Why was he running away?
She just wanted to wake up. Wake up. Wake up… She needed to see him, even if she couldn’t hear his voice in the waking world.
Please…
She gasped as she woke, feeling the wetness on her cheeks from her tears. She whipped her head around and said Solas’s name. She felt the vibration in her throat, but no sound met her ears. The world was silent once more and Solas was not in his bedroll. His bedroll wasn’t even there.
That wasn’t possible! How had he left already?! She looked towards the exit with desperation. She flew out of bed and dressed herself. She threw her things into her satchel and without looking back, she ran out of the alienage. It was very early, but life had already begun stirring in the city. She saw a few people rising and beginning their day. She paid them no mind. She ran for the gates, her bare feet racing across the stone.
When she came to the gate, she came to a halt, glancing around. There! She spotted a figure in the distance. It could only be him. She chased after him with no hesitation. It didn’t matter that she’d barely known him a week. It didn’t matter that she didn’t know that much about him. He didn’t know that much about her. She didn’t care that she was still being reckless, asking for something that would still likely not happen, but she had to try. She didn’t want to just stay there when she’d found someone who understood her, treated her like a person, and offered to teach her. She needed to go.
He had stopped and turned, his eyes a little wide at seeing her, running towards him. She took a breath again and called his name.
