He watched Elentari burst into the tent with undisguised enthusiasm and drop to her knees at his side, wearing that smile she simply seemed incapable of hiding. In her right hand she held the vial of blue liquid and presented it as though she expected him to praise her for doing exactly what he'd asked.
Fen'Harel never praised the ordinary—only the extraordinary…
- Here it is! - he heard her exclaim, still laughing. - Now… I want you to show me everything about your Dreamer magic.
Elentari settled beside him. She didn't stop smiling—if anything, her golden eyes seemed to shine brighter than before. She was thrilled.
- 'Everything' is an ambition far too lofty, Elentari. - he teased, then took the vial and emptied it in a single swallow. As he did, a melody sounded somewhere at the edge of his mind and danced over his skin, returning part of the mana he'd spent.
Elentari disapproved with a subtle twist of her lips.
Raw lyrium was dangerous for any mage in this world. It could drive even ordinary people mad. Not so for an Evanuri. Solas's body had been made to tolerate staggering amounts of raw lyrium—after all, his elven vessel had risen from the titans' skin.
In this case, the lyrium he drank was a modified potion, softened so Thedosian bodies could endure it. He could drink several vials and only then begin to restore his mana reserves properly.
Elentari didn't know that, of course, which was why she looked genuinely worried when she saw how quickly he'd drained the bluish contents.
He would have liked to ask for another bottle outright, but he had to begin acting like the wandering apostate again.
- Fine… - She moved closer, sat back on her heels, shrugged off her pack, and began to pull out its contents.
Bandages. Clean cloths.
Earlier, he'd been uncomfortable with the idea of letting her help change the dressing, but now… that initial discomfort blurred, thinned, and he wasn't so certain he wanted to refuse her help outright.
There was something about her that intrigued him.
- Do you think it'll hurt a lot when I take the bandage off?
He stayed quiet. He knew it would hurt, but the worst had passed: with the first vial he'd sealed the three bleeding vessels and eased the damage to his abdominal organs. Now he would likely have to deal with the supporting tissue, the muscle, the skin. It was intricate work—work that demanded deep anatomical knowledge (which he had, of course), and it would be far easier if he involved healing spirits for something so meticulous.
And because that had been the bargain with the Dalish woman, he would have to honor it.
Solas exhaled and tightened his abdominal muscles to sit more upright.
- It will hurt. I'll endure it.
Elentari placed a bowl at his side and filled it with clean water, then spread her hands over the bandage to feel for the knot and find where it was anchored to his body. When she found it, she undid the ends with immense care and loosened it.
The Seeker had done a good job. The pressure had been right.
Solas couldn't help with this part: the knot had been tied near his lower back.
Slowly, Elentari began to unwind it with patience. The blood had dried in patches, though the layers closest to his skin were still damp—red as any actively bleeding wound.
- Solas… - she whispered, not taking her eyes off her task, her hands still gentle.
To him it was obvious she had dressed and tended injuries more than once—most likely within her clan. She moved with practiced competence.
- For you to show me how you work with spirits… do I leave you without a bandage? - She lifted her gaze to him. In her eyes, Solas recognized curiosity—and something else—before she looked away and began soaking clean cloths in the water.
- Yes. It will be more instructive that way.
Elentari went still for a beat after his answer. A moment later, a faint blush climbed into her cheeks and she forced her attention back onto the stained wrap.
Solas watched her tension build as she removed it, layer by layer. He saw her eyes roam over his body with a curiosity she didn't even bother to hide. She looked at his shoulders, clenched her jaw, and continued. Then her gaze slid to his arms.
That, at least, was… interesting.
There was no reason to look there.
Still, he didn't intervene. The curiosity was mutual.
When the bandage finally came away, Elentari took her time studying his abdomen. Perhaps by reflex, Solas looked down at himself as well.
When he'd woken in Thedas, his body had lost much of its muscle after millennia of sleep, but the last year had been anything but idle, and he'd managed to regain some of what he'd once carried. Now he could see defined abdominal lines and more tone than he'd had when he first emerged… though it still wasn't the body he was accustomed to. Solas had once worn more mass. Too many enemies had dreamed of seeing him fall, and he'd needed an immediate physical answer for anyone who tried—one that wasn't only arcane.
When he looked back up, he caught the intense flush that had taken her. Even the tips of her ears were red.
It nearly drew a smile from him.
Quickly, Elentari grabbed the clean cloths, dunked them in the bowl, and thrust them toward him with a slightly abrupt motion. A few drops splashed to the ground.
Solas, in contrast, took them with unhurried calm and began cleaning each area of his skin. He used the movement to glance at himself again.
Fine. He could conclude he was in shape—though he'd be far more toned once all of this was over. Perhaps even back to what felt normal.
What did any of that matter?
He rinsed the bloodied cloth in the bowl and passed it over his skin again, fully aware that Elentari had stopped looking at him and had fixed her eyes on her own hands instead.
That, again, almost pulled a malicious smile from him—but he held it back.
What was wrong with the girl? Had his bare torso truly intimidated her?
A ripple of pleasure—questionable, familiar—ran through him. Ego, of course. He recognized it as clearly as he recognized an arcane current.
Because the irony was impossible to deny…
When he woke into this world, he'd never imagined he'd cause a catastrophe with his Orb, infiltrate the very organization meant to repair it… and, on top of that, intimidate the continent's new heroine with nothing but his presence.
Of course, with him, presence had never been simple. And yet (or precisely because of it), he wasn't going to let her get trapped in needless discomfort. Solas knew exactly how to soften a tense moment; it was, after all, an art he'd practiced for entire eras…
So he did what he did best: he adopted a measured, calculated—almost kind—expression, and eased the moment with an arcane explanation. He knew that kind of knowledge intrigued her; he also knew that giving her something she could understand and control would bring her back onto steady ground. And, of course, he knew it would make her comfortable beside him again.
- Usually, it's instructive to describe the Veil as a barrier between the two worlds…
Elentari looked up. He saw her shoulders relax, and she watched him with the interest she'd been giving him more and more lately whenever he spoke.
- However, - he continued - it is, in truth, an interference field—one that keeps the forces of the Fade separated above it. - She nodded. - It is a common mistake to believe all spirits want to come to the waking world. A claim like that would not be accurate.
- They don't?
- No. Many spirits are content within their own realm and, in fact, retreat far enough to avoid being influenced by our emotions. - He watched her eyebrows lift, as if she struggled with the idea that not all spirits were interested in the living. A widespread habit in these times…
- As for healing magic, - he went on - it is no secret that the finest mages who specialize in it summon healing spirits to draw upon their strength and benefit.
- Are you a healer?
- To say so would limit my abilities. - Solas replied. - But because I am a somniari, I can invoke spirits of healing more easily and receive their aid.
Elentari nodded. Then Solas straightened, deliberately adopting a more open posture.
It was obvious that this time, he was giving her permission to look.
He watched her blush again… and, with practiced precision, stepped in before the discomfort could grow.
- Look at my abdomen, Elentari. Observe my wound. - he instructed calmly.
She nodded, though her shame was as visible as the color in her cheeks.
It was proving harder than expected to keep Elentari focused on his lesson. Solas tried a more pedagogical, more academic tone.
- Now then... - he continued, sounding like an expert about to deliver a lecture. - I will require the cooperation of healing spirits to close these wounds effectively. The secret lies in understanding elven anatomy.
He glanced at her and, with satisfaction, found her watching him with surprise.
Perfect. Let her see me as a scholar again, not as… a man.
- The healer's goal, - he went on - is to anticipate which areas have been damaged and which will require greater intervention.
She nodded, genuinely attentive now.
- Even so, - Solas continued - even if you lacked anatomical knowledge entirely, you could still cast a healing spell. Spirits can compensate for your lack of understanding. We mages are, in essence, a channel that facilitates the effect. Do you understand?
Elentari nodded again.
- Good. Now I must request the spirits' cooperation to close these wounds properly and rejoin the team without delay.
She looked at him with genuine astonishment.
- Are you so good that you won't have pain afterward?
- As a rule, - he clarified - only bone injuries retain pain when the healing is performed by a competent healer. In my case, I have not suffered that type of wound, so lasting effects are unlikely… aside from the exhaustion from blood loss.
The Dalish woman nodded in silence.
- To achieve the healing, - he continued - it is not necessary to enter the Fade consciously—certainly not. One need only interact with the Veil and allow the proper arcane flow.
- Will you explain how?
Solas offered her a measured, teacher's affection—the kind one gives an eager student. But Elentari flushed again; she looked away, cleared her throat awkwardly, and forced herself to meet his eyes once more.
Mm. No.
She was too distracted today to absorb a full lesson.
- How do you connect with spirits, Solas? - she insisted.
- In the same way any healer does. - he answered calmly. - Being a somniari only makes the initial contact easier. It does not grant me a true advantage over other practitioners.
- You know… before you told me all this, I thought being a Dreamer was something… dangerous and powerful… I thought of it like a 'curse,' do you understand? But you make it sound like something… I don't know… like a gift. A benefit.
- For me, it is. The key is to interpret spirits correctly and understand their nature is not malicious—on the contrary…
- Will you tell me about them too?
Solas smiled again, but this time she didn't tense.
- If you're interested, I will—likely—in the future.
- But not now? - Elentari laughed freely.
- Have a little mercy. I've only just woken from a templar attack... - he teased, and this time his smile was openly mocking—making her laugh again.
-You're right. - She looked away for a second, adjusted her hair, then looked back. - All right, then. How do you heal?
Solas raised both hands before his abdomen, waited until she was watching, loosened his aura and let his palms gather that pale blue glow that so often marked him—and almost instantly, his abdomen sealed: tissue knitting together until his skin looked flawless, unscarred.
The moment was neither wild nor strange. Elentari pulled a face and stared at him, feeling cheated.
- Is that all? - she complained. - But I do that when I cast spells!
Now it was his turn to laugh openly.
- You asked how I do it, and I showed you. I am not responsible for the fact you ask poor questions…
Elentari laughed too, surprised.
- And what was I supposed to ask?
- Something more interesting than asking me to show you what you can already do. - he teased. - For example: you could have asked about mana in a mage's blood, the Veil, spirits—and how each connects to channel healing magic into the physical plane. - He tilted his head, continuing the tease. - But there's no point explaining it if you are not the one doing the reasoning.
Then he turned to one side, braced himself on his left hand, and with his right gathered his shirt (stained with dried blood) and the clothing he'd worn during the attack.
Elentari watched him pull the shirt on.
- Hey—what are you doing? You're really not going to tell me?
- Of course not. - Solas replied as he covered his torso. - Learn to ask the right questions when you have the chance to get answers from a somniari… - he challenged, the tone playful and uncontainedly wicked. His lips carried that elegant little smile he was beginning to allow himself with her.
- That wasn't the deal, Solas! - she protested with mock offense—though she was smiling too.
- Oh? And what do you think the deal was?
- If I brought you lyrium, you were going to tell me how you do it.
- If I recall correctly… - he warned, teasing - I did not say I would tell you. I believe I said I would show you how to contact healing spirits. Which I have. - He added, still amused. - And I should clarify: 'I believe' was simply a polite way of saying I am sure I said it.
- That's cheating, and you know it!
- No. It isn't. I gave you the chance to learn more, and you asked poor questions. I have fulfilled my side of the bargain. The explanation would have been an extra, in gratitude for your concern for my wellbeing—if you'd known how to take advantage of it. - He mocked her again.
- You're a trickster... - she complained, and he smiled.
Solas rose to his feet, and Elentari followed—unable to wipe the grin from her face.
- You really won't tell me?
- It irritates me to repeat it so many times. - he sighed in feigned annoyance. - No. I won't.
Elentari crossed her arms.
- You're a trickster.
- I've been told before... but it's not trickery if I outsmart you.
- I didn't know we were battling.
- Perhaps you should consider that any scenario can be a silent battle, Elentari…
- Jah! - she scoffed, clearly amused. - You're a trickster.
- No. I'm not. - He shrugged. - You lost the opportunity to learn certain things because you didn't think before speaking. Next time, perhaps you should… - He finished, once again, with dry irony.
- I don't believe you.
- Start believing it... - he said, and without another word he began to straighten the inside of the Seeker of Truth's tent, his half-triumphant smile still in place.
He didn't ask the Herald of Andraste to help him, but she did anyway. And between occasional complaints, clever counterattacks, and complicit laughter, they spent a good part of the morning shut in there—fueling the village's gossip, and not considering that detail at all.