The first rays of sun were pointing over the horizon when the small window of Solas's room lit the face of the Herald of Andraste and forced her to turn it that way, only to realize that they had spent the entire night debating.
The two of them were sitting on the floor of the room, facing one another. Without a word, they had deemed it inappropriate to debate on the bed, and so they had ended up here, with papers scattered in every direction. She was holding, at that moment, a summary he had written on the titles of the nobility in both Ferelden and Orlais, and the names of some representatives he remembered. The most complete was Ferelden's, though Orlais had several as well. For Elentari, it was fascinating to see the methodical order of Solas's mind. She admired his ability to remember events, and how he could link any kind of information until he found a logical explanation that made everything fit.
Inspired by him, she had decided that, from then on, she would always carry a book on every mission to read during her free moments. They would not catch her with her guard down again.
- Has it dawned? - Solas murmured in front of her.
- It doesn't matter. - She leaned toward him and took him by the forearm, shaking him gently. That drew his attention. - You were telling me about Fereldan politics. - Elentari released his forearm and reached for the quill and inkpot, dipped it to scribble, and rested Solas's summary, which lay on the floor. - So then, this kingdom is divided into provinces that are the teyrnirs. We have two, Highever in the north and Gwaren in the south.
- One could consider its capital, Denerim, also as one, for meeting the necessary characteristics, but it is different… for being the seat of the monarchy. - he clarified. - Elentari… - His tone shifted to something a little uncomfortable as she wrote down the name of both places.
- Tell me.
- It isn't appropriate for them to see you leaving my room.
- Oh, it's just that I'm not planning on leaving. I still have to ask you more things.
Solas added nothing else. She did not lift her attention from the page.
- So then, what are the arlings? And a bannorn?
- Ferelden politics are practical. Unlike Orlesian politics. - he clarified. - Sometimes, this people is taken for uncultured, or barbaric, but the truth is that we simply… - He made a strange pause; she almost looked up, but he continued. - …are practical.
This time, she couldn't help looking at him and smiling when she heard him defending his lands. After all, Solas had been born in a small village of this kingdom.
- So… - he said, and she watched him tilt his head back slightly and settle himself to be more comfortable before continuing. - Kings lead the monarchy and rule from Denerim, where the Palace stands. You know that already. - he went on, and she nodded and returned her attention to her notes. - Then we have the teyrns, in the north and south.
- Yes, I already wrote that down.
- Then we have the arlings, which were created by the teyrns.
- And who created the teyrns?
- The teyrns arose from the banns, thanks to champions who, in antiquity, became powerful enough to push other banns into swearing fealty to them.
- I see… - She was about to write, but Solas placed his hand over the page, stopping her. Elentari lifted her gaze to him.
- That isn't important. - he clarified, and this time a hint of tedium slipped into his voice. - It's a simple irrelevant detail. - The two of them looked at each other.
- You're annoyed because it's morning, aren't you?
- Not because of that. - he replied, with an irritation he couldn't hide.
- Because you haven't rested?
Solas shook his head. - It's just that… - He hesitated a second. - They'll say enough things about you for having attended the meeting with Orlesian nobles as an elven noble… If they now see you leaving my room…
- Oh, but that's not a problem. We'll make sure they don't see me. - The tone was teasing, but she was telling the truth. - How do we do it? - Solas smiled when she placed the responsibility on him. - What? Surely you'll come up with something…
- Magic, of course.
- See? You already have the problem solved inside your head. Stop complaining. - She snatched the paper and wrote beside the teyrns that had arisen from banns thanks to champions. - Alright, and then… the bannorn?
- Your problem is that you don't order ideas in your head... - she heard him, somewhat complaining. - Let's follow an order, shall we? - Solas proposed. She put the tip of the quill to her lips and nibbled as she nodded. - We have Denerim, the capital, and seat of the monarchy. Then the teyrns, and then the arlings. - She nodded again. - Arlings are governed by arls, who are the mayors of these regions, and these titles were created by the teyrns, by giving them command of strategic fortresses they couldn't supervise themselves.
- Like in the case of Arl Teagan. - she whispered. He nodded. Elentari looked up at Solas with enthusiasm. - Oh… it's because Redcliffe Castle is there!
- Exactly. - he said, and then added, - Unlike teyrns, arls do not have sworn banns and are nothing more than banns with prestige.
Elentari continued writing at the foot of the page. - So banns only owe loyalty to the teyrn.
- And to the Crown, of course. - he clarified. - But it's not 'loyalty.' It's something much more practical.
She lifted her gaze, attentive.
- Politics in Ferelden look chaotic to foreign eyes because the king's power does not emanate directly from the throne, but from the support of landowners. They decide which arl or bann to render tribute to, and that decision is based, above all, on who can guarantee the defense of their lands in the future. - Elentari nodded. He went on. - In other words, teyrns benefit from the oaths of arls and banns in case of war or catastrophe, but that relationship is reciprocal; they also have the obligation to protect those who have sworn fealty to them.
- Why aren't they defending the fields now?
- That's a good question. - he said dryly. - Maybe they are, and we haven't heard.
Solas stood up at once and extended a hand to help her up. - We're done with the lessons, Elentari. - It was an order, not a suggestion. She accepted his help and stood in front of him.
- I'm sorry to be a nuisance, but it helps me a lot when you summarize all these things… and I don't want to be the victim of ridicule again like I was at the chateau.
- It doesn't bother me... - Solas replied - but we must deal with an immediate detail… which is your presence in my room in the morning, wearing the same dress you wore last night.
She rolled her eyes.
- I'm not worried about them saying nonsense about us.
- There are many things you still minimize. - he replied calmly. - Your image matters. You are the Herald of Andraste. I am a wandering apostate. - He made a brief pause. - It would be disastrous if they associated us in an… inappropriate way.
Solas let go of her hand and moved to the side of the bed. Elentari felt a soft warmth go through her when she realized they had been holding hands this entire time. She looked down at her palm. Her left one, precisely. How silly to be embarrassed by his closeness… She lifted her gaze back to Solas. He was crouched by a corner of the room, rummaging among his belongings. When he straightened, she saw him holding his fur cloak.
He approached her and, with firm movements, settled it over her shoulders. Immediately, a scent of fresh herbs enveloped her, followed by a faint tingling that ran along her skin. The scent was strange—one she couldn't quite make out, as though it belonged only to him. It was fresh, which is why she thought of herbs, but she had never smelled it on any plant, and it also made her evoke colors, like an intense, dark blue, almost like the sea at high tide during the night—yet instead of taking her mind to the coast, it carried her to the shores of mystery.
That scent was Solas's. A fresh, intense blue of mysteries. And that was how difficult it was to name it. Elentari looked up. He was in front of her, his hands still resting on her shoulders as he finished adjusting the cloak.
- Ready? - She nodded—and suddenly, she noticed a cold sensation wrap around her and she could no longer see any part of her body.
- You've made me invisible!
He nodded.
- It isn't necessary for me to remind you, but you mustn't bump into anyone or anything, don't interact with anyone and don't cast spells, or you'll break my weave.
- I know, Solas. I'm a mage… - she complained.
- Caution is never enough, Elentari. - She smiled, but he could no longer see her. - When you reach your room, call someone you trust and ask them to prepare a bath. Or better… do it yourself. And remove your makeup. It will be difficult to convince anyone you left it on for sheer pleasure.
- No one will see me…
- And the first thing you must do when you arrive, even while maintaining the invisibility spell, is take off that dress…
- Solas… - She took his arms and the spell broke. - Relax, no one will see me… I'm not stupid. Later, when we see each other again… I'll confirm it to you, but no one will see me. - The apostate nodded. - Now, cast the spell again.
Solas nodded again and did as she asked. Once more, that icy freshness wrapped around her.
When she was invisible, the mage approached the door and placed his hand on the handle, but he didn't open it. Elentari knew the advice wasn't over yet.
- As you move away, while you're still visible to me, I will erase the traces of your steps in the snow. However, near the Chantry, I won't be able to see you, nor erase your footprints. You must hurry.
- You could go to the Chantry with me, that way I wouldn't leave any footprints. - but he refused flatly.
- No. Too risky. If anything goes wrong… there will be too many rumors and nothing good will fall on the Herald's narrative if you are linked in a… romantic… way with the group's apostate. - Solas pressed his hand harder on the handle, and he seemed slightly uncomfortable at mentioning a romantic bond between the two of them. But he recovered immediately. - Ready? - He waited a few seconds. - I assume so.
When he opened the door, she saw him lift his gaze to the sky. It was a clear, bright morning. Elentari supposed it was a habitual attitude in him… that habit of looking at the sky in the mornings, because surely he wouldn't take unnecessary risks.
Solas left his hand on the handle, his body leaning on the wooden door to give her enough space to slip out. Elentari crossed—and right then…
- Hey, Solas! - They both heard the apothecary's voice. She saw Solas tense his jaw with great restraint and, without stepping away from the door, he looked at the man.
- Adan… good morning… - he murmured.
He disguised his irritation with excellence; it drew a small smile from her.
- I thought you were with someone… I could've sworn I heard you talking…
Elentari took a few steps forward, moving away from Solas so he wouldn't touch her. She looked at the trail of her steps, but she saw none. His ability to control his environment was fascinating. She had never met anyone so exceptional.
- Sometimes, when I'm sleepy but need to finish certain theoretical matters, I read aloud. I'm sorry if I disturbed you. - Solas lied quickly. She smiled again as she watched him.
- Oh, not at all. You're usually very quiet. That's why it caught my attention to hear a woman's voice. - Adan replied, suggestive, smiling at him with complicity.
- Well, there is no woman with me… so that doesn't make any sense. - Solas cut him off.
She would have loved to keep watching how he managed to sound completely sure of his lies, but she had to move away. So she did. She heard the apothecary keep talking with Solas, but she could no longer make out the words. And, while she could still see Solas in the distance, she almost ran toward the Chantry, trusting blindly that her footprints wouldn't be discovered.
When she began to make out the great doors of the Chantry, which remained closed, she wondered how on earth she was going to open them without anyone seeing her. Interacting with an object like that would break the invisibility spell.
She stopped. She knew Solas could still see her from a distance; the matter of her footprints wasn't a problem… And just as she was still searching for a solution, she saw the apothecary pass by her side, unaware of her presence. He was humming a cheerful little tune, and his path—almost by miracle of the Maker (understand the Herald's irony)—seemed to lead directly where she needed to enter.
Good.
Elentari followed him carefully, slowing her steps. Then Adan opened the Chantry doors, and she took the chance to almost run as lightly as possible and thanked the Elentari of the past who had committed the foolishness of visiting Solas barefoot, because now it was an advantage.
Adan walked up to Mother Giselle and asked what she had needed from him, but the woman told him she didn't know what he meant, and Elentari understood almost immediately… Solas… had told him to go see the priestess to facilitate her access. She couldn't help laughing and feeling a warm heat rise in her cheeks.
Without wasting time, she walked quickly and lightly toward the room in the Chantry that, from time to time, she used as her own. She preferred this room to the little house the Inquisition had given her. She had never had a house all to herself; it felt super strange to inhabit it…
That didn't matter now…
She looked at the priestess and the apothecary, approached the handle of her closed door, placed her hand, opened it, and was grateful for the fur cloak Solas had placed over her shoulders—because even though the spell broke, it covered her completely (except for her feet), and that prevented them from seeing the dress.
She pushed the door quickly, heard their greetings, lifted a hand with her back still to them, pretended she had forgotten something inside her room (shoes, perhaps?). She closed the door again, but this time with herself safe inside. Almost immediately, she let her body rest against it and felt her heart pounding fast.
Perfect. Everything had gone well.
She burst into conspiratorial laughter—about what? About the fact that she had managed it!
Without wasting time, she left Solas's cloak on her bed. Unable to help it, she missed his scent on the garment (as silly as that was, but she couldn't deny it was a very pleasant smell); she went to her trunk and stripped off the dress as if it burned her skin. As she chose what to put on, she kicked the evidence under the bed in a hurried way, just as Solas had advised. If someone came in (unlikely, but apparently… caution was never enough), they would find her in her underclothes and it would be embarrassing, yes—but no one would be able to say she had spent the night in the room with him.
Then she put on light clothes to sleep.
Perfect. She had done it.
It was then that she noticed she hadn't stopped smiling. Her heart was still pounding fast and a strange feeling fluttered in her stomach, but she felt radiant. She had done it! She clenched her hands into fists and let out a small squeal of excitement, shaking her feet on the floor.
She hadn't disappointed Solas.
And, more than that, she had proven to him that she could be clever and efficient, too.