Elentari approached the small hut where she knew Solas spent his nights.
The nocturnal walk through the softly falling snow had been a success for the Dalish woman's troubled mind. The oppressive feeling had left her, and now she sought only answers... answers that might provide her some comfort. Why had she chosen the apostate for this? Well, that was not something the woman had considered; on impulse, she had run in search of his presence.
She knocked softly and wondered whether it was inconvenient to disturb him at this hour. The truth, for her, was that she would not sleep a wink with the whirlpool of ideas tormenting her, and she had already discovered that silencing her thoughts only prolonged her agony. Even so, Solas was not responsible for everything that troubled her, even if he brought her peace. Was she being selfish by disturbing his rest? Possibly he was very tired, he had just returned from the patrol through the Hinterlands... Perhaps the most sensible thing was to leave and speak with him in the morning.
She made a small gesture with her lips and knocked again, with a little more intensity than the first time. She did not get an answer immediately. Was he awake?
Perhaps that was THE sign to leave... She raised her hand and prepared to knock once more, but then the mage opened the door and she noticed that, upon seeing her, he narrowed his eyes, surprised.
They gave each other a silent look, one Elentari did not know how to interpret in him. She knew she felt somewhat uncomfortable for bothering him, but not enough to leave him alone. She was unsettled.
- Good evening, Solas. I hope I'm not a bother. - the mage took a few seconds to answer. His hand had remained on the door, and his deep gaze had stayed fixed on her during that moment.
- Good evening, Herald. Your presence is not a bother, but yes, I must admit, unexpected. Tell me, what can I do for you?
The coldness of his response made Elentari regret immediately for having been so insistent. She shifted in the snow beneath her feet and debated between apologizing, making up some nonsense and leaving, or telling him the true reason for her visit. Just as the first option was winning, Solas seemed to yield to her presence.
-Forgive my manners, Herald. Please, come in. - the mage stepped aside, allowing her access into the hut.
A bit hesitant, Elentari entered.
There was something cozy about the room, as if the faint smell of wax and parchment gave that space the trace of a home built in silence. There was his bed, which was not unmade, so surely he had not been sleeping, and that gave her some peace of mind. Then, she noticed a desk with lit candles and two open books, as well as a small wooden bookshelf to the side overflowing with books. That drew a subtle smile on her lips. Elentari could read, a privilege of few elves; therefore, books were a fascination almost forbidden for her (as long as they did not force her to read the same thing again and again).
Unable to help herself, she approached the bookshelf and took a look at the volumes. Most were titles about magic, arcane studies, biographies of Tevinter mages, religion, Andrastianism, the Inquisition, the Blight, accounts by historians about travels through the different kingdoms of Thedas and the study of their customs and dynasties. Well, Solas truly did seem to have an answer for everything. However, she did not find a copy of the Chant of Light.
- Have you read all of this?
- Not all of it.
Elentari ran her hand over the Inquisition volume. - Have you already read it?
- Of course. - Solas assured, placing himself beside her. - Do you want to take it?
She looked at him and, for a second, time seemed to stop when she saw herself reflected in the blue of the mage's eyes. That color, where had she seen it before? Immersed in the dim candlelight, they had darkened, and the two black spheres allowed her silhouette to be drawn within them.
Immediately, electricity ran through her and she felt uncomfortable. Unable to hold his gaze, she took the book in silence and nodded, hugging it to herself.
Solas was intimidating. She had just realized it.
- Thank you. Hey, are you Andrastian? - he let out a mocking little chuckle at her side, and then Elentari looked at him again, smiling too. - What? It's not a silly question, you have many religious books here.
- Perhaps because I'm accompanying the Herald of Andraste, aren't I? - he teased.
Elentari looked away again, and though she had not expected Solas to confess that he was researching to help her in her mission, she felt warmth in her chest. She hugged the book tighter.
Then, the apostate's voice cut through that strange moment that had come over them.
- I am aware that information is the glue that keeps networks of cooperation together.
She looked at him again, aware that it was beginning to be difficult not to. Why? Perhaps it was his tone. It was... captivating. Besides, her curiosity was piqued that the elven mage mentioned "information." That promised to be interesting... And he seemed to notice, because immediately after, he explained.
- The Inquisition, as an organization, could obtain enormous power through the construction of great networks of cooperation, not only among humans, Herald, but among all the races of Thedas. - he paused, and then added. - However, I believe it is sensible to consider the way in which such networks predispose one to make an imprudent use of power.
"Imprudent use of power." Those words in the apostate took the Dalish woman back moments earlier, to the conversation she had had with the religious women and the dark aspects of the original Inquisition. She thought of Leliana and her refusal to relinquish power once order had been achieved...
- You know? I spoke with Mother Giselle earlier.
Solas nodded, he knew. He had seen it, but he had not heard any of the conversation, of course. However, in the woman's large eyes, he could notice a hint of unease. It was not his place to get involved, nor to console her, but he could not deny that he would have preferred that none of this had happened to someone as... naive as the Herald was...
Something in him complained, as if the adjective he had chosen was not the right one. Solas knew perfectly well that the line between naivety and hope was almost invisible, but was she merely naive, or a woman capable of instilling hope in the rest? It was hard to decide so soon.
The elf's voice resonated inside his room, and when he became aware, he realized he had lost himself in his thoughts. He masked it, of course, he was an expert at controlling himself, but he had not expected her to invite him into deep reflections with so few words that made him lose the thread of the conversation.
- ...she spoke to me about the first Inquisition - he heard her continue - and about how it spread the knowledge Andraste gave to humanity through force... - He saw the Herald shake her head, uncomfortable, and there was discomfort in her gaze.
Solas had no idea of everything she had told her, so he had to improvise.
- Did that make you uncomfortable?
- It worried me, rather, Solas. What is it that we are building here? A tyrannical organization that silences its opponents through force? - the Dalish woman's pleading look struck the elvhen. Once again, it invited him to remember the Solas of the past, the one who had been lost so long ago.
She went on.
- What? A lie for the believers about a messenger of the Maker's word? Do you understand? - No, he did not, but he said nothing, he let her keep speaking. - They say I am the herald... but is there something that can be debated about what I am supposed to communicate about the Maker, or must everything be imposed?
If during the previous days he had had doubts about the woman's motivations, they had just dissipated. Elentari was an elf with a unique spirit, curious and kind, who did not want power or praise, she only wanted to truly help everyone. But, moreover, she seemed to have a capacity to "question" that was a strange success for these times... Well, in truth, for all times... And that made him feel warmth pass through him. He was capable of admiring a leader with those characteristics; more than that, he was capable of fighting alongside her for that just cause.
- What do they expect of me? I can't manage to understand what they are building when they say that I am the Herald of Andraste. - she finished with a sigh of exhaustion and let her shoulders drop. She pursed her lips in a grimace that, for an instant, reminded him of a spoiled child... though Solas knew that thought was born more from his own prejudices than from her. Elentari was Dalish, and he would have preferred to loathe her rather than admit the virtues that, little by little, he was discovering.
Perhaps because of that, Solas could not hold back when he spoke simply and plainly with truth:
- An intersubjective narrative is what they are building.
Elentari looked at him, unable to understand his words. What in the Void was an "intersubjective narrative"? She thought they were building a symbol of authority to gather power and bring some order to all the chaos... but a narrative? Really?
For an instant, she believed Solas was not going to explain himself, but then she saw him sigh and place himself in front of her, almost leaning against the bookshelf, to pierce her with that implacable and cold gaze he carried. When he looked at her that way, an overwhelming sensation flooded her, as if he wanted to discover all her secrets or penetrate the inside of her mind. A gaze that, strange as it was, began to remind her of the immensity of the sea...
She could not pull her attention away from the color of those eyes. And she realized that, strange as it was, she did not want to. She wanted to be there, she wanted to see if Solas was capable of discovering her secrets. Could it be?
The two of them had shortened the distance between them and the Dalish woman wondered why the mage had chosen to do so. She was beginning to understand that few of his acts lacked intention. Did his closeness also hold one? Or had it been a simple coincidence that only she had noticed as striking? That only to her had... mattered.
- Tell me, Herald... is there something I can help you with?
His question was sharp. For an instant, she felt like a fool, but then she understood. Solas wanted her to be the one to put her own worries into words, perhaps to guide her in understanding!
- What is an intersubjective narrative, Solas? - Elentari whispered, unable to look away from him. The mage stirred her curiosity, he seemed mysterious, attractive, and that was undeniable now for her. The elvhen could not stop looking at her either.
The Dalish woman had touched sensitive fibers within him, had caught his attention in a way he had not expected, and that unsettled him more than he wanted to admit. He felt a certain magnetism having her so vulnerable, and he was aware that it was far too easy to say far too many things when they were looking at each other face to face and she asked the right questions. In a way difficult to explain, Elentari seemed to appeal to the wise side of Solas, one he usually reserved only for confidants or intimate close ones... she scratched at the surfaces of truths he was capable of sharing with the benevolent spirits of the world... Was the Dalish woman one of those? Did she truly carry the strength of an extraordinary spirit?
There was something in this woman, in the way she looked at him, in the way she pushed reasoning toward the search for understanding. It seemed as if Elentari only wished to build even in war... and in some uncomfortable way, that allowed him to put his wisdom at the service of life, not of the destruction wars demanded. Was it possible?
Then, he decided that he would let the simplicity of her closeness work upon him... he would explain what he had mentioned, always cautious of his true identity in this world. After all, he could not be foolish; he could not let himself be carried away by whatever it was his body was experiencing. He had to be cautious, no one could suspect that Solas was much more than a wandering mage... it would be dangerous for him if it became known who he truly was.
-The construction of an identity, whatever it may be, depends on many people believing in the narrative that gives it form, Herald. - he explained. - It does not matter what you believe or what I believe, individually. When something, like this fledgling Inquisition, needs the cooperation of many people in order to exist, it must manage to make everyone accept the same narrative.
>>And when enough people believe in that same story, what we call an intersubjective reality is born, a reality that does not exist on its own, but because a great number of people uphold it with their belief. And that shared belief is what allows the masses to cooperate.
He noticed her fall silent, but scrutinize him with those spellbinding eyes. He knew she was paying full attention and, almost without doubt, he knew she was understanding him. Then, he continued. - To accumulate enough power to face this new threat that is the Breach, the Inquisition will need the cooperation of the masses. Through an intersubjective narrative, it intends to assemble the identity of the Inquisition as an organization and present it to the world, with the purpose of gaining followers.
"And acquire power," he did not tell her this last part. He chose not to say it yet.
The look of uncertainty in the young Dalish woman seemed to shine; Solas noticed how her eyes opened a little more as she heard him and he knew that woman was very intelligent. She had understood every word, and because of that she was beginning to feel fear. Because the new identity her advisors were creating to gain the cooperation of the masses and become powerful was hers: the Herald of Andraste, messenger of a prophet of a god.
- That's why I have to go see the priestesses in Val Royeaux... to secure their cooperation with the Inquisition, and I must not fail. They must believe that I carry Andraste's messages... - she whispered, and lowered her gaze for the first time away from Solas.
Though she pretended he would not see it, the apostate noticed the sadness that overwhelmed her... or perhaps it was hopelessness? Something in the elvhen stirred and he felt a foolish desire to comfort her, but it was not his place to do so, it was not his role and it was not convenient.
- It is not fortuitous that they compare you to Andraste, Herald. Nor that you are called "Herald." - he felt some sorrow at being so brutal with the raw truth, but he knew Elentari was capable of understanding it, more than that, of enduring it.
- Could you avoid calling me Herald, then? - to Solas's surprise, when the Dalish woman said that she faced him again with a sharp gaze, charged with that magic her eyes seemed to carry. - If you are aware that this title is an identity imposed on me, at least have the courage to call me by my name.
- That place is not mine, Elentari. - he sentenced, though he complied with her request. - In private I can do so, but in front of the others, no. You are the living narrative they intend to build to achieve order amid chaos. And though you are overwhelmed now, your actions can mark the course of this organization. Do not underestimate the importance that has fallen upon you. - he paused, before continuing. - Even if you feel trapped, you can be a direct builder of change. And that, sometimes, can be an advantage.
She smiled with disdain; Solas recognized himself in her. With time, she would learn to accept the investiture that had been given to her, just as he had learned.
"It's not wrong to remind her she doesn't have to do it alone," Varric's words resonated inside the elf. Solas, that day, had forced himself not to interfere, but now... now he was not sure it would be so imprudent to do so.
Because he had been alone on his own path of leadership and, perhaps, she did not have to be...
This time it was the elvhen who lowered his gaze. Because, though he could not say it in words, he told himself that he would be there to guide her... at least until defeating Corypheus.
The dwarf had been right...
... at least... until defeating Corypheus...
After that... Solas let out some of the air he had been holding...
After that, he would walk the path of dinan'shiral again... his responsibility, his obligation... his... condemnation. Because, he knew it: cruelty was sometimes the only form of mercy toward oneself...