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Sera sighed, scowling. “How much longer is this going to take? I’m starving.”
“Perhaps if you’d spent less time crudely comparing the vegetables to various anatomical features and more time chopping, we would be eating by now,” Solas muttered.
“Oh stuff it,” she snapped back at him. Isii merely shook her head as she stirred the small pot that lay suspended over their campfire.
“It should be done soon,” she said patiently. She fished out a piece of carrot, blowing on it before taking a cautious bite. It was almost soft enough. A few more minutes should do it. It was time to start the she’bradh. She dug into her pack, retrieving a handful of ingredients. “Hand me that bowl, will you?” she asked, gesturing to Sera.
The elf picked up the wooden bowl, eyeing the eggs inside. She picked one up, smirking as she held it out toward Solas. “Real family resemblance there.”
He didn’t seem particularly amused. “Yes, Sera. I am bald,” he said flatly. “Your powers of perception are truly something to marvel at.”
Isii chuckled. While Sera and Solas were never particularly friendly with one another, they had been especially irritable today. She supposed taking both of them with her for an extended trip had been a poor choice. Their patience was wearing a bit thin.
Well, Solas’s patience was. Isii didn’t get the impression that Sera had much in the way of patience.
Isii shot a brief glance over to the fourth member of their party. The spirit stared back at her, his eyes wide and eerily still as he watched her take the bowl, beginning to carefully crack the eggs open. Cole didn’t talk much. She wondered if that would change as he grew more comfortable with them or if he simply didn’t have much to say. He seemed content to watch, however, apparently fascinated with the mundane tasks they had been handling over the course of the past week. This trip to the far edges of the Hinterlands had been rather uneventful so far. She supposed that was a good sign. It meant the Inquisition’s efforts were paying off.
Sera leaned toward the fire, sniffing cautiously at their dinner. “There aren’t gonna be any bugs in it, right?”
Isii’s eyes narrowed as she dumped a handful of a flour mixture into the bowl. “No. I didn’t put any bugs in it.”
“But you people do eat that shit, right?” she asked, sneering. “Like, creepy crawly little buggers?”
“They’re really not that bad,” Isii said with a shrug, beginning to combine the bowl’s contents with her hands, working the yolks apart with her fingertips.
Sera’s lips turned, her tongue emerging as she gagged. “That’s disgusting.” She turned to Solas, gesturing sharply. “Even you’d say that’s rank, right?”
“Resourceful, perhaps,” he said calmly, “but not exactly palatable.”
Isii arched her brow, the corner of her lips quirking. “I wasn’t aware that the diet of an apostate hobo was too high brow for insects.”
His lips pursed but his expression remained otherwise unmoved. “It is not what I am accustomed to eating.”
“See?” Sera squawked. “Even he won’t eat that crap.”
“Well, I’m glad I could give the two of you something to agree on,” Isii said dryly, kneading the loose dough. “Truly an accomplishment on my part. I’m so proud. I might even tear up.”
“I’ve been damn right near starving and I’ve never looked at a bunch of roaches and gone ‘Oooooh, dinner!’”
Isii shrugged. “I wouldn’t eat city insects anyway. They’ve been surviving off of shemlen garbage. But gather up some from out in the woods and they’re pretty good. Sometimes they taste like the fruit they’ve been eating. There’s this little sweet pop when you crush them between your teeth.” Sera made a retching noise.
“Ogre skin smells like mold in the barn,” Cole said suddenly. His voice sounded distant. Strained. “He’s lifted into the air. His sword can’t help him. The ground is inevitable.” The spirit’s fingertips picked at one another nervously as his eyes lowered. “He feels anger, more than fear. The twin, the one like Father. He wants to blame her for all of this. Running. Hiding. And the other one who soars like their namesake. Get them out of here, Mariah. Run, you idiot. The last thing he hears is his mother screaming his name…”
“The memories that linger here have long since passed, Cole,” Solas said calmly. “Do not dwell on their pain.”
“I’m getting sick of hearing it babbling on like that, anyway,” Sera grumbled. “It’s been doing it all day.”
“Stop calling him It,” Isii corrected. “He has a name.”
Sera shot her an irritated look. “It can call itself whatever it wants,” she said pointedly. “It don’t change things. I can call myself a ham sandwich all I like. Won’t make it true.”
Cole peered at her, the brim of his hat tilting. “You’re not a sandwich. You’re Sera.” He paused, an odd look of curiosity falling over his features. “Sera,” he said again. “My tongue wants to whistle on the start. Ssssssera,” he repeated, whistling between his teeth. “But it has to stay still or the r is a d. Sera. Seda. Seda. De da de da…”
“Are you seriously still talking?” she snapped.
The spirit grinned, a small hint of laughter in his voice. “If you try, you can say it without moving your mouth, see? Serrrrrra,” he demonstrated, his lips pulled strangely across his teeth. “Say it enough and it stops being a word. Sera, Sera, Sera, Sera, Sera, Sera-”
“Imma knock you in the teeth if you don’t piss off,” she snarled.
“Solas,” Isii began calmly, “why don’t you take Cole for a walk or something?”
“Better get him a leash, while you’re at it,” Sera grumbled.
“Solas doesn’t like leashes.”
“Weren’t meant for him, you git!”
Isii tried not to laugh as Solas pushed himself up to his feet. “Come, Cole. Let’s not bother then further.”
Cole’s eyes widened as he rose to follow. “I wasn’t trying to be a bother,” he said softly.
“I know,” Solas reassured him.
Isii wiped her hands, reaching for a small pan to set over the fire. “Food should be ready in a few moments, lethallin. Don’t wander too far.”
A small smile curled on his lips. Solas seemed pleased to hear the endearment. It was a new development for them, but it felt natural on her tongue. He wasn’t Dalish, but that didn’t matter. She considered him her kin. “We will return shortly,” he replied with a nod before drawing Cole away from the campfire.
The elven women were silent for a time as Isii scooped the dough into the heated pan, carefully massaging it into a flattened disc. Sera was preoccupied, staring out in the direction their companions took into the woods. “So what’s with you and Solas anyway?”
Isii frowned. “What do you mean?”
“You can’t be keeping him around for the lively conversation – unless you find that ancient elfy shite interesting.” She smirked, arching a brow. “Dalish like you probably gets off on that sorta thing, right?” Isii rolled her eyes, scoffing quietly. “You’re draggin’ him around with you everywhere you go. Like, that’s not important?” Sera continued, leaning forward. “I mean, you didn’t exactly need him down here just for a scouting gig, did you?”
“It’s Cole’s first outing with us,” Isii replied simply. “Solas is our expert on spirits. Besides, the kid seems to be more comfortable with him than anyone else at this point.”
“Don’t even get me started on that thing. Weird. Damn creepy, if you ask me. But don’t use it as an excuse or nothin’,” she added, pointing an accusatory finger. “I’m not stupid, you know. It’s not like I can’t see it. You and Solas are having it off, aren’t you?”
“I honestly don’t know what you mean, Sera.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Riiiight. Like there isn’t a reason you’ve been sharing a tent with him? You got a thing for him… his thing and your thing… doing things.”
“Oh, because clearly we can’t keep our hands off of each other?” Isii asked with a laugh, peering at the woman. “This is Solas we’re talking about, right?”
“I’ve seen how you look at him. You’re in it.” Isii shook her head, chuckling as she carefully flipped the flatbread. “Bet he calls out ‘Elven glory’ when he does it.”
Isii nearly dropped the pan in the fire, shaking from the sharp and sudden bark of laughter that sprang from her. Instantly her imagination gave the idea flesh. She could picture his voice, his face, and the scene made her laugh hard enough that her eyes began to water. She put a hand over her mouth as Sera giggled right alongside her. “Creators, that is not an image I needed.”
“You know I’m right.”
“Well I won’t be able to confirm that for you,” she said, her laughter calming into a chuckle. “Solas and I are just friends. I bring him along with me because we work well together. It really isn’t anything more than that.”
“Pffft. Sure. Right,” Sera scoffed dismissively. “And I’m the bloody Queen of Antiva.”
***
Isii tore off another piece of the bread, eager to pick up every last bit of broth in her bowl. It had been so long since she’d eaten felisafelanen and it was every bit as satisfying as she remembered it. The others ate in relative silence – with the exception of Cole, who continued to watch them. Isii knew that he did not need to eat, but she’d offered him a taste of their meal nonetheless. The spirit had scrunched up his nose at the idea, halfway between puzzled and disgusted. She didn’t push the issue.
“So?” Isii pried as Solas set down his bowl. “What did you think?”
“Admittedly the dish was better than I was anticipating.”
She grinned, arching her brow. “Because it’s Dalish or because you doubted my cooking?”
“Don’t answer that, baldy,” Sera interjected. “That has trap written all over it.”
Isii giggled, chewing on her last bite of bread. “I used to make this all the time back home,” she said, swallowing. “My favorite way to eat it is to stir in a little halla cheese. When it melts into the broth, it makes it really rich and creamy. Too bad we don’t have any.”
“Yeah,” Sera muttered, “it’s a real shame we can’t make this taste like sweaty deer arse.”
Isii glanced over to her, her lips pursed. “Charming,” she grumbled before stifling a yawn.
“Tired?” Solas asked.
“Whatever would give you that impression?” she asked with a sleepy grin. “I think I’ll turn in once we get things straightened up. It’s been a long day.”
“Go get some rest,” he bid her. “I will take care of it.”
Her smile broadened. “Serannas, lethallin.”
“De da’rahn.”
“Blah, blah, blah, gibberish shite.”
The two of them gave Sera a disparaging look.
“Felasil,” Solas muttered under his breath.
Isii giggled. “On eolasa elir dirtha thuast nuvir i asa, tel’re?
He grinned, nodding. “Ra re thanathe, vin.”
Sera’s eyes darted between the two of them, scowling. “No fair. Speak normal. As in, words.”
Isii pushed herself up to her feet, patting her on the shoulder as she passed. “On nydha.”
The archer fixed her glare on Solas. “What’d she call me?” Isii could hear him chuckling as she ducked down into their tent.
She fought another yawn as she stripped down, making short work of the fastenings that held her leathers in place. She was down to her breeches and tunic, her hands slipping the linen up to pull off her breastband when she heard the voice behind her.
“You think about him.”
She gasped, startled as she tugged her tunic back down, turning quickly. Cole crouched beside her, his eyes widening. “Duine or Mythal, Cole!” she hissed. “What are you doing in here?”
He seemed surprised by her reaction, his brow tightening. “Did I scare you?” he asked, worried. “I don’t want to be scary…”
Isii took a breath, trying to settle her heartbeat. “You’re fine, Cole. You just… I thought I was alone. Don’t sneak up on me like that, alright?” Cole nodded quickly. “Is there something you need?”
“I don’t understand.”
“Understand what?”
“You,” he said, concerned. “You’re different. Bright and shining and so hard to hear. I see glimpses in glimmering and so often it’s him.” His head tilted. “Is it because your glow is like his?”
Isii frowned. “I don’t know what you’re saying, Cole.”
“You think about it all the time. Whenever you close your eyes, you’re back there. The world without you in it. The world where you could not save them.”
She could feel a pit forming in her stomach, a familiar sense of dread bubbling toward the surface. “Cole-”
“Redcliffe,” he said slowly, his lips examining the word. “You see his eyes behind your own, red and raw. The stone made them glow like everything else. Wounded and poisoned and dying because you couldn’t be there to stop it. The word flowed off his tongue like treacle, a shock to your senses, his heart wrapped in a sound. Vhenan. He doesn’t remember because for him it never happened – but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t real.”
Isii stared back at him, eyes wide as Cole leaned forward, speaking emphatically. “I can see it because you remember it. It lives in your head but the roots are here, growing, slowly. He needs it to stop, but it won’t. He can’t. He sees moments he wants but does not reach for them. You’re not the only one who feels that way.”
Isii’s lips parted but she didn’t know what to say. She didn’t like talking about Redcliffe. She tried to pretend that she was past it, that what she saw there no longer affected her. Seeing what had become of Solas in that future was not easy. He was tainted with red lyrium, unstable as if he was struggling to hold his composure with each word he spoke. He’d called her vhenan in that future, but she assumed there was something about his experience in that year that implanted that feeling- perhaps some lingering guilt from having watched her die. The man she knew now showed no trace of that sentiment, so she’d convinced herself that it had to be that.
But now Cole was saying otherwise.
She wet her lips, her words hesitant. “I…” She paused, uncertain, starting again. “I don’t think Solas would want you telling me this.”
Cole’s confusion was obvious as he frowned. “Why?”
“Because if he wanted me to know, he would tell me himself,” she explained firmly. “You shouldn’t look into people’s heads and share their secrets, Cole.”
“Even if it’s something you should know?”
She nodded. “Even if you think I should know, yes.”
He considered this for a time, his brow creased as his teeth worried his lower lip. Soon he looked up, his eyes meeting hers from behind his mop of pale hair, a slow grin warming his face. “I think I understand,” he said with a nod. “Thank you.”
His gratitude was soft, heartfelt and absolutely perplexing. Isii didn’t know what else to say and so she muttered a quiet, uncertain “You’re welcome.”
And then he was gone.
Isii blinked, looking around the tent, but there was no sign of him. She sat frozen for a time, disquieted by the realization that she had no way of knowing if he was gone or if she simply couldn’t see him.
Cole would take some getting used to.
She stretched out on her bedroll stiffly, staring up at the canvas that surrounded her. Did Solas really feel the same way about her? That’s what Cole had said. She wasn’t even certain what that meant. How did she feel about him? She liked him. She thought he was attractive. She’d be lying if she claimed she’d never considered something more – but she had been so certain that he wasn’t interested. If he was, he had a strange way of showing it.
She was still awake by the time he joined her. Isii lay on her side, saying nothing as she watched him prepare for sleep. Practiced hands unwound the wrappings around his legs, slipping his belt from his waist. If he was aware of her gaze, he thought little of it, soon settling down onto the bedroll beside her own. His eyes closed, his hands folding gently across his stomach as his breathing slowed. She watched him, her fingers picking nervously along the edge of her mat.
“Solas?”
“Hmm?” he hummed, unmoving.
“How accurate do you think Cole’s visions are?”
His eyes opened, peering at her in the low light. “They are not visions,” he corrected. “Not truly. Spirits are capable of sensing the thoughts of those around them and the memories that remain in places of great trauma or cataclysm. If he is a spirit of compassion as I suspect, he would have an additional level of clarity to thoughts associated with strong emotions.”
He studied her for a moment in her silence, his brow tensing. “Is there a reason for this inquiry?”
Lips parted but she stopped, second-guessing herself. “It’s nothing,” she said quietly. She rolled over onto her side, her back to her companion. “Goodnight, Solas.”
He was silent for a moment before she heard his quiet reply.
“Dream well, lethallan.”