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They gave the Dalish girl a room of her own to sleep in. The human ambassador that wore a fabric shinier than anything she’d seen in her life had proclaimed its size to be a mark of her status, and to show the people of Haven that she was an important figure in this fledgling organization she’d gotten wrapped up in. It was of a decent size, Ashanna supposed, though she had little previous examples to compare it to; her kind was not normally welcomed into human dwellings. But she knew it was a coveted item when she considered the amount of soldiers and workers that slept in thin tents stacked up next to one another for warmth.
But no matter how big it was, it was still another prison the humans kept her in to prevent her from running. Being surrounded by four walls was odd, but she didn’t truly comprehend what it was like until night fell the first evening. At night the walls seem to rise and enclose her in darkness; tight and oppressive with all light from the stars blocked out. The air tasted stale and so thick in her mouth she felt she would choke on it.
Was it possible to run out of air in such a room? Logically that would be unlikely, given how much humans preferred to sleep indoors, but the thought still wormed its way into her brain until her heart began to thump in her chest like an uncomfortable weight and she became aware of each labored breath she drew.
Ashanna tossed and turned in the too-large bed that seemed to swallow her whole. Her agitation and anxiety was building, reaching a new height when the mark on her hand began to vibrate and stutter with foreign magic. Tendrils of power skittered through the flesh and bone of her arm, refusing to let her sleep or rest. Wrapping it in a woolen blanket did nothing except dim the green light that was steadily blinking from her hand, casting ghostly shadows on the walls that flickered in tandem with her heartbeat.
She hated it; it made the room seem to shrink in on her until the next breath she sucked in got caught in her throat. She coughed violently, suddenly terrified each intake of air would be her last. A cold breeze fluttered in through the open slats of the room, chilling the sweat that had begun beading down the side of her face.
It was too much. She gasped small, shallow breaths that echoed in the silent space while she hastily threw on a tunic and pulled her fur blanket tightly around her. Her hand faltered on the rough wood of the door handle as she furiously blinked away the tears burning at the corners of her eyes. It was too dangerous for them to see her crying.
The humans posted outside her room seemed confused when she tried to leave. A violent sputtering sound from the anchor on her hand stopped their protests as she stepped away from them quickly, shaking her hand in an attempt to calm both herself and the mark. She glanced at the stairs that would take her to where the elven healer slept, her gait faltering slightly as she considered the option. It would probably be the smarter choice to have him look at it, as he had proven to be effective at reducing the discomfort it gave her in the past. He was a scholar, and would probably even be interested in studying its current behavior.
She turned towards the gates of Haven instead; her last interaction with the older elf had been unpleasant when he had prodded her mark with his magic, and she had no desire to see the judgement in his gaze as his eyes traced her vallaslin when he thought she wasn’t looking. She was certain he’d suffered some grievances by the Dalish at some point, but…Creators. That had nothing to do with her. She was just the stupid nobody from her clan who got stuck with a mark of unimaginable power and was now being used as some prop for the human faithful. She had more on her mind than debating the Dalish way of life with outsiders.
She stumbled slightly as the magic vibrated unpleasantly through her body. Her teeth chattered and she pulled the furs closer around her like a cloak.
Following the worn path, she passed through the gates until she found herself in front of the stables. Aside from the lone horse that slept soundly within, the stables and surrounding armory were empty of humans; they had all retired to their own enclosed spaces to sleep in, Ashanna supposed. She stepped in carefully, moving silently around the animal that nickered when it was alerted to her presence. A few gentle strokes on the side of its face and it was asleep again, allowing Ashanna to gather some hay into a pile and settle down on it. The horse’s heavy breathing and odd smell was all different, but it felt closer to home more than anything else had in the past weeks.
What mattered most was the bright stars that glittered above her and the cold mountain air that flowed into her lungs which had already begun calming her heartbeat. She sucked in a deep breath and nearly let out an audible sigh of relief as the pain from the anchor receded and the light slowly dimmed back into the jagged scar on her hand.
She sank back into the large blanket until only her eyes and nose were exposed. After some time, the trembling of her body ceased and she closed her eyes to snatch a few hours of unexpected sleep.
****
It was a little better, the next morning when she awoke with the familiar bulk of a sleeping animal next to her; there was at least one blissful moment of peace before the realization that she was in a stable surrounded by humans, suffering from a magical scar on her hand, and so very far from home came crashing back down on her. She clenched her jaw, a wave of panic threatening to pour out of her mouth.
Dhru. Enasta. Pava, Varis. Lille.
It was an old tactic she’d learned in her childhood. Repeat each name of the herd until it passes. This time, she only had to run through them three times before the tension in her body drained.
It was progress, anyway.
Ashanna brushed the hay from her hair and stashed her fur blanket into a nearby crate, taking a moment to adjust her clothing. On a rusty, worn hook a simple cloak hung unclaimed. She couldn’t help but glance around carefully, even knowing she was the only person in the stables, before snatching the cloak and donning it. It was too large for her, and clearly meant for a much larger human, but it more than suited her needs.
She only caught one curious look from the blacksmith as she wandered out of the stall just before dawn. The mark on her hand was, thank the Creators, dormant other than a bit of flickering light that would sputter out when she touched it.
She tried to avoid the other humans, but the pointed stares and whispers followed her all the way to the gates of Haven. Their eyes burned into her as she walked, even as she raised the hood of her cloak to hide her pointed ears. She was expected to meet the other Inquisition leaders in the Chantry within the hour. Cassandra had not so directly implied her presence would be required in a meeting to discuss their involvement in the mage and templar conflict, but probably only for appearances sake. Realistically, what counsel could she offer on a conflict she knew next to nothing about?
The thought of being in a room with them all looking at her was an uncomfortable one. Maybe they could proceed without her, just this once. Her feet wandered from the worn path to the snow covered pebbles that lead out past the frozen lake instead, knowing it was a decision she would likely pay for later on.
She idly wondered what it would be like to keep walking and never look back; what did she owe these people who threatened her with execution one day, then venerate her as their savior the next? She wondered how far she would get before they caught her. There were many templars around Haven, even if they claimed to be former members of the order, and templars could track mages. Deshanna had told her they use the mage’s own blood to track them, and Ashanna did not put it past Cassandra to take a sample while she had been unconscious.
Escape was too risky, so she did the next best thing. She ran. The snow crunched under her feet as she flew over the frozen grass with her cloak billowing behind her, the cold air crisp on her skin and in her lungs.
It felt wonderful. She ran and kept running until she reached the sparse, dead trees that had yet to be felled by the humans from Haven. Chest heaving from her exertion, she stopped to look back behind her; Haven was no longer in sight, and no longer could she hear the sounds of the anvil being hammered, or of people going about their morning business. All that was around her was the white, empty snow and the blissful silence, broken only by the occasional caw of a crow flying overhead.
Singling out the nearest tree that looked sturdy enough, Ashanna hefted herself up the trunk with all the ease of someone who’d been climbing trees for years. Finding a spot to settle herself, she lay back and clasped her hands together to stare up at the spot in the sky that started this whole mess.
Elgar'nan.
How could she even begin to close something like that? With the tiny mark on her hand? When closing the small rifts she had to fight back the urge to vomit as her whole body vibrated with unfamiliar power. Something of this size; it would likely kill her. They probably all knew it. But sacrificing some insignificant Dalish girl was of little consequence; it wasn’t as if she were a human like them, or a follower of their faith, or anyone important. As long as the Breach was closed.
She clenched her jaw tightly to control the trembling that was now starting, but the tears came anyway despite her best efforts.
***
In her state, she was unsure of how much time had passed, though it must have been a significant amount. She heard someone approaching her from a distance; a set of footfalls in the snow accompanied by a heavy thud, muffled in the snow. The whisper of a mage’s aura reached out, brushing her own.
Oh, of course. They sent the apostate after her. Send the elf to get the elf; never mind the fact that they came from two entirely different lifestyles. As long as their ears were both pointed, of course they would instantly form solidarity with one another; she could almost hear Josephine awkwardly dancing around this fact after asking him to retrieve their troublesome Herald.
She had a moment before he came into view though, and she wiped her eyes with the corner of her woolen cloak. Any redness that remained would hopefully be attributed to the wind chapping her face, but she pulled her hood tightly around herself anyway.
“I suppose they’re upset with me,” Ashanna announced as he approached the tree she was perched in. She made no motion to move from her spot as Solas stopped at the sound of her voice, looking up from the base of the dead trunk. His expression was unreadable to her, but his eyes softened when they met hers.
“More concerned, than anything else, Herald.” His voice was soft and soothing, with a tone that was quite familiar to her as one she often used on halla that had gotten spooked. For some reason, this more than anything else caused a sudden, irrational flare of anger.
“Concerned about this, you mean?” She waved her marked hand in the air, regretting the words the instant they were out of her mouth. The sudden burst of emotion bled from her as rapidly as it had started, and now she merely sounded sounded petulant and childish.
Solas narrowed his eyes before carefully setting his staff back on the harness strapped to his back. His posture straightened, his hands folding behind him to regard her with a hard stare. It reminded her of how Deshanna would look at her before she would get lectured on something she did wrong.
“We are all concerned about the mark, as we should be. It is the only thing that has proven effective on the Breach.”
“Then why don’t I save us some trouble, and just cut off my hand and give it to you? Perhaps then I could have the lot of you leave me in peace. It’s all you really need from me, in the end.”
“Ashanna.”
She frowned, both at the use of her first name and the exasperated tone in his voice.
“That is your name, yes?” When she didn’t answer, he sighed and continued. “I understand your frustration. It is a lot to expect from one individual. But you are the only person in Thedas that has any effect on the Breach. It is not something that can be ignored.”
“I can try,” Ashanna muttered, reclining back onto the branch.
“That would be foolish of you.” His voice took a dark edge now that sent a shiver down her spine. “Because ignoring the problem will only harm you in the end. They will force you to close the Breach, whether you are willing or not. And you cannot deny the danger it poses to everyone around it.”
“I just…” She trailed off, refusing to look the other elf in the eyes; the frustration almost rolling off of her in waves. She was frustrated with Solas, with the Inquisition and its responsibility, and mostly with herself at her inability to express herself adequately. “I don’t care about any of that,” she blurted. “I just want to return to my clan.”
“An unsurprising attitude I’ve seen all too frequently from the Dalish, though I am disappointed to see you share it. A pity.”
His words stung, more so than she would have thought. But in the end it was just one more person to be disappointed in her. At least this time it was only a stranger. She looked down at her hands, which had wound themselves tightly in the wool of her cloak.
“Please leave me be. I’ll head back soon.” Her plea was soft, muffled into her knees as they curled up to bury her face. She wasn’t sure he heard her, but when she looked up again she was alone.
***
She continued her pattern of sleeping in the stables. On one hand she felt bad for wasting a perfectly good room while so many slept out in the elements, but on the other…well it was none of their business how she chose to sleep. It went on for over a week until someone finally said anything about it. A dizzying week of war meetings, recruitment, and trading icy stares with the elven mage.
But of course it was merely a matter of time before people began to talk about the Herald of Andraste sneaking away to sleep with the horses each night.
One morning, she was startled awake by the former Seeker frantically shaking her back into the waking world.
“What in the Maker’s name are you doing sleeping here, Herald?”
“Cassandra?” Ashanna mumbled, shrinking back from the human who was clutching her shoulder.
“I could not believe the rumors were true. Did Josephine not provide you with a place to sleep? You are the Herald of Andraste! You should not be…” She gesticulated wildly around the stable. “…sleeping with animals!”
Ashanna flushed, jerking her shoulder away from the human that clutched it. “I don’t see how it’s any concern of yours where I sleep,” She muttered darkly, pulling the fur blanket protectively around her. She worried her bottom lip with her teeth, refusing to look the Cassandra in the eyes. Adrenaline was starting to trickle through her body and she could feel her whole body begin to tremble.
“It is my concern, Herald Lavellan. We must all do our part to put an end to this madness in the sky. We cannot ensure your safety if you sleep outside Haven’s walls, and most importantly we can’t have the people of Haven see you sleeping in here like…”
“Like an elf?” Ashanna finished, curling her lip in distaste as her heart thundered against her ribcage. “Or like a Dalish? I don’t know which is worse for you.”
“You know that is not what I meant,” Cassandra replied icily. “I mean you no disrespect, but you are making things more difficult for us-“
“More difficult for you!?” Ashanna threw her blanket off and leapt to her feet amid a flurry of scattered hay, thrusting her hand into the Seeker’s face. The scar crackled to life, green light filling the small stables.
“Herald, please-”
But it was too late; now that the lid on her fury had been ripped off, she was unable to stem the tide. “Are you the one who wakes in agony each day from a mark that almost killed them? Are you the one who abandoned everyone they knew and loved to be surrounded by people who just a week ago, tried to kill you?”
Ashanna’s voice neared hysterics as she frantically began pacing, the mark flashing wildly in the small space. The stables pulsed with light, and it was no small surprise that such a scene was beginning to draw a crowd. When Ashanna cast her gaze outside, she was mortified to see a mass of people watching her scream at the Seeker, their horrified eyes boring into her so strongly she could physically feel it. The urge to flee flared up fast and quick; but there were people blocking the exit even as they stared at her.
Dhru. E…nasta…
Thinking was impossible; she couldn’t breathe. Gods, she couldn’t breathe. She gasped for breath, choking on the giant gulps of air she was swallowing in her panic. She coughed and spluttered, taking backward steps until she was pressed up against the wall. With no where else to go, she sank to the ground, tugging frantically at the roots of her hair. The light from the mark was now spitting out sparks of light, intensifying until a cry of pain escaped her.
“Get the healer!” she heard Cassandra bellow as she knelt next to her. She was only dimly aware of the woman next to her; the deep, throbbing pain racing up and down her arm consumed her while each breath became more of a struggle than the last.
It wasn’t long before she felt another presence kneel next to her and an exchange of words that were muted, as if she were in a dream. She could hear them just beyond the frantic beating of her heart and the sounds of distress that she made, but she was frozen.
A hand touched her shoulder and she flinched violently against the wall, gasping.
“I would advise against touching her in such a state, Seeker.”
“She is having difficulty breathing! You must do something, mage. We cannot afford to lose her.”
A warm tingle of magic licked at her skin, exploratory and soothing. It did little to quell the pain and panic that rolled through her, however.
“Can you heal her?”
“It does not appear to be something that can be healed. Not through magic, at any rate.”
“But the mark-”
“Is not the cause of what is ailing her.”
“Then what? You must do something-”
“Seeker, perhaps it would be best to clear the area from onlookers. I believe I can assist, but it would be better for all parties if we had a measure of privacy.”
“I will do that. But I need you to deal with it quickly; she is too important to our mission to lose.”
“I am well aware of this fact, Seeker. I will do what I can.”
Ashanna could hear the clatter of Cassandra’s armor as she stood and stomped her way out of the stables, yelling something in the background that blended into the background noise that was roaring in her ears.
"Herald.”
A brief pause, when she failed to respond.
“Ashanna. Listen to the sound of my voice. Can you hear me?”
Her response was a murmured sound that trailed into a pained intake of air, her fingers dropping to her lap to twist into her leather trousers absently.
“Concentrate on your breathing. Focus on one breath at a time. Can you do that for me, Ashanna?”
“I…can’t,” she gasped, her face flushing from the effort it took to speak. Her voice sounded tiny and hysterical to her own ears.
“I believe that you can. Start by exhaling the air in your lungs.”
She responded automatically, letting out all the air she was holding in a shuddery rush, not realizing she had forgotten to do so.
“Now inhale. Deeply. Be aware of the air flowing back into your body."
She sucked in a slow, deep breath and held it.
"Now exhale again.”
She let out the air again.
“Very good. Inhale.”
For how long this continued Ashanna could not say, but eventually her breathing evened out to its normal pattern and the pounding of her head subsided, and her hands unclenched themselves from her trousers with a creaking sound from her knuckles. Blinking rapidly, she looked up to see an empty stable, save for her and Solas sitting cross legged across from her. He sat near enough to reach her if needed, but kept a respectable distance.
“How do you feel?” Solas inclined his head towards her.
“Better,” She mumbled, stealing a glance up at him. There was an intensity in his grey eyes that had always seemed intimidating in the past, but seeing it directed at her in concern prompted an unusual fluttering sensation in her chest she could not decipher.
“The mark,” Ashanna remembered, glancing down at her hand. It lay dormant, the pain having completely faded away as she gained control of her breathing. “Did you do that?”
“The credit is all yours. I did nothing except guide your breathing back to it’s usual state. Once you regained control over that, it abated quite readily.”
She remained quiet for a long moment to quell her racing heart. Solas seemed not to mind, and waited patiently for her to gather herself.
“It’s been flaring up like that quite a lot. Is there something wrong with me?” A note of panic bled into her voice when she finally spoke again.
“The anchor is not likely to become as unstable as it was before, at least not in the foreseeable future. I believe its unpleasant effects were linked to your current mental state.”
“Oh,” Ashanna said softly, her face growing warm as embarrassment washed over her. She glanced down to stare at a small bundle of hay at her feet.
“I do not mean to imply that the problem lies with you personally. You have endured a great deal since the Breach, and I must apologize for not recognizing the signs earlier to help you.”
“Solas, that’s-” She broke off, biting her bottom lip. “Thank you for your help,” she finally said. “It happens to me sometimes, where I forget to breathe, and then I panic, and then it gets worse.”
"I could assist you with some breathing techniques that may help, if you wish.”
“Perhaps you could just speak to me if it happens again. You have quite a calming voice.”
She hadn’t meant anything by it, but the eyebrow he quirked made her self conscious about the comment, and she turned her head again to hide the blush that was forming.
“I am certain I would merely bore you with stories of old ruins and battlefields I had encountered in the Fade.”
Ashanna blinked. “What do you mean, ruins and battlefields?”
“I’ve journeyed deep into the Fade in ancient ruins and battlefields to see the dreams of lost civilizations. I’ve watched as hosts of spirits clashed to reenact the bloody past in ancient wars both famous and forgotten.”
"Is that not dangerous? Wouldn't demons try to tempt you?"
"No more than a brightly colored fruit tempts one to eat it. With enough practice, it is possible to wander the Fade without attracting unwanted attention."
“I’ve never heard of someone going so far into the Fade. That’s extraordinary.” She steepled her hands together, resting her elbows on her knees to consider the elf in front of her.
Solas chuckled lightly. "It is why the Inquisition keeps me around, after all. I am uniquely qualified for magical threats that concern the Fade, or tears in the Veil. Though it is still gratifying to hear it said. Thank you.”
"Hmm," Ashanna hummed, glancing down. She had known he was the Inquisition's fade expert, but had not truly contemplated on why that was until now. She supposed he was some city elf that was fortunate enough not to waste away at an alienage. Her very Dalishness seemed to be an affront to him, so she had little reason to try to engage him in casual conversation. Questions bubbled up inside of her; her mouth opening and then closing shut almost instantly.
"If you have something to say, you do not need to censor yourself on my account."
"What sorts of things have you seen? Will you tell me? Could I learn to do it?” The questions tumbled off her tongue in a rush to know the answers.
“My, so many questions!” Solas exclaimed, surprise evident in his tone. “You truly have an interest in ancient history, so long forgotten?”
“Well, I am Dalish.” She caught his expression faltering ever so slightly at that comment. Right, he had a bad history with the Dalish. "Preserving knowledge and history was part of my training,” she clarified. Surely he knew that?
He paused before responding, his tone no longer carrying the lighthearted surprise he showed earlier. “And what if you traveled the Fade and found a memory that contradicted what your Dalish legends teach?”
“If I knew it to be true, I would preserve it,” Ashanna responded easily. His eyebrows rose in response, and she tilted her head, considering the implications. “You have seen many things in the fade about elves, I gather?”
“I have.”
”What about elves from before our time? Have you seen them?“
A slight hesitation, before he responded. "I have studied ancient elves through memories in the Fade, yes.”
Her mouth hung open for a moment before she remembered to close it. To be able to see how they truly lived…
“Are you familiar with Dalish stories then? Have you seen things that…disprove them?”
“I do. And…yes.”
Well, that shed a little more light on his issues with the Dalish. Her people were very protective of their history and legends; a lesson she learned the hard way in her youth. She could only imagine the reaction a clan would have to a barefaced city elf that spoke of legends they should not be privy to. Yet they had so little knowledge to work with; how could she turn down a chance to see ancient history as it really was? It had been the only aspect to her Keeper training that she truly had enjoyed.
Searching the Fade was dangerous, and no one had ever thought to use it as a tool to find forgotten memories. The implications though, were staggering.
“Does that upset you?” He asked after her silence stretched into several minutes.
She thought for a moment before responding.
“Not really. It would be more important to find truths, rather than half forgotten stories passed down for hundreds of years that probably never happened.”
“Such a practical view. You are not very devout to your elven gods, I take it?“
Ashanna licked her lips. "Not particularly, other than for customary rituals and traditions. Another reason I was unpopular with my clan, among other things.”
“Then they are fools. You possess a rare capacity to look at things with an open mind to consider all options. It is a remarkable trait, and one that should be encouraged.”
She started at that; caught off guard by both the unexpected compliment, and the genuine warmth that flooded her at his assessment. His responding stare at her was intense, as if he was truly looking at her for the first time. When he finally spoke again, she nearly jumped as the odd tension between them broke.
"I did try to share some of what I uncovered on my travels, but I found none who would listen. It is quite a surprise to find a Dalish that thinks otherwise, let alone one that was a Keeper in training.”
“We are not all the same,” Ashanna frowned, brow furrowing.
“I know this. I did not intend to cause offense with my statement, it is merely….tiring to be met with the same hostility or disregard time after time. After a while, one begins to make assumptions rather than be continuously disappointed.”
Ashanna chuckled mirthlessly. “How odd it is then, that you managed to find company with the worst Keeper in Thedas.”
“It is certainly…something.” Solas agreed, a small smile tugging at his lips. “If you’ve yet to get bored of the sound of my voice, I would enjoy talking if you wish to discuss something.”
Ashanna pulled her bottom lip between her teeth to chew, trying to refrain from the urge to throw a multitude of questions at the other elf.
“Tell me of ancient elves you’ve studied.” She breathed.
***
They sat in the stables for a while yet, deep in conversation until the Seeker returned to interrupt them.. Ashanna jumped to her feet at Cassandra’s arrival, nervous at the sight of the woman’s severe expression. Solas too climbed to his feet with far more grace than Ashanna had managed.
“Herald. You seem to have recovered. Are you well?”
“I am better, thanks to Solas. I didn’t mean to worry anyone.” Ashanna toed the dirt in the stables, her face warming up again as she thought of all the people that had witnessed her outburst.
“It is done. As long as you are no longer in any danger I am satisfied.” She thinned her lips, considering. “Perhaps we have not been entirely….accommodating to you. You are an important asset to our cause, Herald. If you would prefer it, I can have Josephine arrange sleeping quarters that are more to your liking.”
“Oh,” Ashanna nodded, stunned. It was the last thing she expected Cassandra to compromise on. With a curt nod, the Seeker departed, leaving the pair of elves alone in the stables again.
Solas turned towards her, clasping his hands behind his back. “I have enjoyed our conversation this morning, Herald, and I am pleased to see both you and the mark at a more stable level. If you experience further issues with the anchor, do not hesitate to come to me.”
“What if I just want to come to talk?” Ashanna let a genuine smile play on her lips, probably the first one she’d had since this all started.
His eyes flickered towards her curved lips before responding. “I would welcome such discussion. I will be available in my quarters after our evening meal, if you like."
She nodded shyly. “I would like that.”
~~~