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She was the living proof of his failure, yet, the da'len, a twenty-year-old with elven blood within her, was the solution to this world's problem.
Solas first ignores her, accommodating enough to answer her curious yet plentiful questions, not wanting to become attached to the Inquisition or her when he has a duty to uphold. A duty to fix his mistakes.
But, he cannot ignore her quirks, especially her habit of humming to alleviate her boredom during their travels. The hums could potentially burst into songs that he had never heard before and he was an immortal elf. That incited questions within him, desperate to be answered and yet, he did not want to push her and cause suspicion, especially when the Nightingale had her agents closely watching him.
Sometimes, the songs that she sings never seemed to fit her character. It may have been the product of being raised in a clan that was protected and favored by a prestigious noble house in the Free Marches, with childhood friends consisted of the noble children and the First and Second of her clan.
Not once, did Solas noticed that the Herald sometimes tilts her head, as if she was listening to someone, eyes glazed as her horse carries her towards their destination, once again, to the Hinterlands.
His ears perked up, the Herald, once again, starting to hum an upbeat tune, absently patting her horse's mane, doe-like eyes staring into the distance. From the corner of his eyes, he sees the Seeker and the Dwarf urging their respective horses to remain close to the Herald, eagerly trying to listen in, waiting for her to relax enough into bursting out the lyrics.
They didn't have to wait long, she must have felt more bored than usual.
"I say, ‘I’ve heard that you’ve been out and about with some other girl, some other girl.’," her eyes shut, head swaying to the imaginary tune in her head. "He says, ‘What you’ve heard is true, but I can’t stop thinking about you and I’. I said, ‘I’ve been there too a few times.'."
She paused, as if she was struggling to get into the chorus of the song before continuing on. “You’ve got that long hair slicked back, white T-shirt and I got that good girl faith and a tight little skirt. And, when we go crashing down, we come back every time. Cause, we never go out of style, we never go out of style.”
The Herald always contradicts his suspicions and this was one of them. She seems to be a naive one, an innocent one, never had a love and yet, she sings of a lover who wasn't faithful to her and she still accepted him, even with his flaws. As the song slowly comes to its end, he wonders if she had left her lover back home or let him go?
Suddenly, she stiffens, nervously fiddles with something in her leather pocket on her person, a hand grazing against her hair in the protective helm as she turns to look at them in confusion.
"Did you need to discuss something?" she asks, eyes flickering between the three of them.
Solas shakes his head. "Not at all, da'len."
"We're just flanking you," the dwarf effortlessly lies, not wanting to be caught listening to what the Herald thought was just her mouthing off lyrics. "If another attempt happens, we'll take the hit instead of you."
She shakes her head, disagreeing the made-up plan, even if it was logical to do so, as she was the only person that had the ability to undo his mistakes. "No, I'll be fine. Master Harritt had provided with armor and I am protected enough with it."
"Herald, it is imperative that you live," Cassandra protests, both in trying to cement the lie as well as being of logic in mind. "We are collateral in the grand scheme of things. We do not have a gift from Andraste that helps in closing the Breach. You do."
"You are not collateral," the Herald fires back, her eyes seem to glow brightly in response to that. "You are my companions, my friends, if you accept my friendship. Even if you didn't, you are a person and you should cherish your life, not throw it for the sake of my life, even if it means that the world may end."
Solas was taken aback. He never thought he was considered as a falon in her eyes, a concept that seems to baffle him to no avail. She easily trusted him for no reason and this confused him greatly. She was raised in a Dalish clan, a surprising kindness he never expected that they would give to her, a half-elven, tainted with a shemlen's blood.
"Aww, Hummingbird, that's sweet," Varric lets out a laugh, smiling as the Herald turns bright red at the nickname he had bestowed upon her. "Of course, we're your friends."
"The dwarf is correct. We are your friends and I am glad that you considered us friends," Cassandra gives out a rare smile.
Solas nods his head, agreeing with the others, ignoring his common sense screaming at him to not form an attachment towards her and the others, but his wolf howled, eager for a pack after being in uthenera for so long. "Ma falon, you are a kind spirit. It would be my pleasure in having you as a friend."
The smile the Herald, no, Aerin, gives out was almost blinding and his heart hurts, knowing how difficult the journey would be for her. He truly hopes she endures the road she walks on, not wanting her spirit to be crushed, caused by his arrogant assumption.
"Thank you for accepting my friendship," she says. Then, she turns her gaze towards Varric, eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Hummingbird?"
Cassandra groans as Solas shakes his head. Fenedhis.