Elentari approached the small house where she knew Solas spent his nights. The nighttime walk through the gently falling snow proved a blessing for the Dalish's troubled mind. The oppressive weight had lifted, and now she only sought answers... answers that might offer her some comfort.
Why had she chosen the apostate for that? That, she had not stopped to consider; it had been a pure impulse. She had simply run in search of his presence.
She knocked gently, wondering if it was inappropriate to disturb him at such an hour. Truth was, she wouldn't be able to sleep with the whirlwind of thoughts tormenting her, and she'd learned that suppressing them only prolonged her agony. Even if Solas wasn't responsible for what troubled her, he brought her peace...
There was no response at first, so she knocked again, just as softly. Was he awake?
Before long, the mage opened the door, and Elentari noticed a shadow of curiosity on his face as he received an unexpected visitor. They exchanged a silent look that she couldn't quite interpret. She knew she felt uneasy for disturbing him, but had no idea what her presence stirred in Solas.
- Good evening, Solas. I hope I'm not disturbing you.
He took a few seconds to respond. His hand rested on the door, and his deep gaze remained fixed on her.
- Good evening, Herald. Your presence is not a bother, but it is... unexpected. Tell me, what can I do for you?
His cold tone made her immediately regret her decision, ashamed for being so impulsive. She shifted in the snow, torn between apologizing, making up an excuse and leaving, or confessing her real reason for coming.
Just as she was leaning toward the first option, Solas seemed to relent.
- Forgive my manners, Herald. Please, come in. - He stepped aside, granting her access.
A little hesitant, Elentari stepped in.
There was something cozy about the room, as if the faint scent of wax and parchment gave the space the feeling of a quietly built home. The bed was still made (he hadn't been sleeping) which brought her some relief. She noticed a desk with lit candles and two open books, and a wooden bookshelf packed with volumes. That sight drew a soft smile to her lips. Elentari could read (a rare privilege for elves) so books were a near-forbidden fascination for her.
Unable to resist, she approached the shelf and glanced at the titles.
Most dealt with magic, arcane studies, biographies of Tevinter mages, religion, Andrastianism, the Inquisition, the Blights, and historical accounts of travels across Thedas.
Clearly, Solas seemed to have an answer for everything. But she didn't spot a copy of the Chant of Light.
- You've read all this?
- Not all of it.
She ran her hand along the book about the Inquisition. - Have you read this one?
- Of course. - Solas replied, stepping beside her. - Would you like to borrow it?
She looked at him, and for a moment, time seemed to freeze as she saw herself reflected in his blue eyes. Bathed in candlelight, they seemed to darken and suddenly reminded her of a past walk beneath the stars on the seashore. His eyes mirrored that night, and she couldn't help but remember how happy she had felt...
A jolt of electricity ran through her, and she felt uncomfortable. Unable to hold his gaze, she took the book silently and nodded.
The echoes of the sea faded away, and the harsh reality of Haven embraced her.
- Thank you. Hey... are you Andrastian?
Solas let out a small amused chuckle, prompting her to look at him with a grin. - What? It's not a dumb question. You have a lot of religious books.
- Perhaps because I'm accompanying the Herald of Andraste, no? - he teased, then caught himself, suddenly aware he was being too informal. He had noticed how she'd looked at him moments before. Letting the atmosphere grow too warm was unwise.
Elentari turned away again, and although she didn't expect him to admit he was researching for her sake, the idea filled her with a quiet warmth.
Then, the apostate's voice broke the strange silence.
- I'm aware that information is the glue that holds cooperation networks together.
She looked at him again, drawn to how he spoke of "information." That sounded promising...
Solas continued. - The Inquisition, as an organization, could acquire great power by building wide networks of cooperation, not only among humans, Herald, but among all races of Thedas. - He paused. - But I think it's wise to consider how such networks predispose one to misuse that power.
"Misuse of power."
Those words dragged her mind back to her earlier conversation with the Chantry women, and the darker aspects of the original Inquisition.
She thought of Leliana's unwillingness to relinquish power once order was restored...
- You know... I spoke with Mother Giselle earlier today.
Solas nodded. He'd seen it, though of course he hadn't heard the conversation. Still, in the woman's large eyes (framed by those long lashes) he saw a flicker of unrest.
It wasn't his place to get involved or console her, but he couldn't deny wishing none of this had fallen on someone so... naive.
Something inside him protested... that wasn't the right word.
Solas knew well how thin the line was between naivety and hope.
Was she merely naive? Or someone who could truly inspire hope?
Her voice reached him again, breaking into his thoughts.
He disguised it expertly (he was used to restraint) but he hadn't expected her to stir such deep reflections with so few words.
- ... she told me about the first Inquisition, - she was saying - and how they spread Andraste's teachings through force... - He saw her shake her head, visibly uncomfortable, her eyes again full of unease. Solas didn't know what else had been said, so he improvised.
- Did that disturb you?
- It worried me, more than anything, Solas. What are we building here? A tyrannical organization that silences dissent by force? - Her pleading gaze struck him. - A lie for believers about a messenger of the Maker's word? Can anything be questioned, or must it all be imposed?
If he had harbored any doubts about her motives, they vanished now.
Elentari was a rare spirit: curious, kind, uninterested in power or praise. She simply wanted to help. And she had that rare ability to question.
Well... that was rare in every era.
And that stirred something warm in him. He could admire a leader like her. More than that, he could fight beside her for that cause.
Perhaps that's why he didn't hold back.
- What they are building is an intersubjective narrative.
She looked at him, puzzled, thinking he wouldn't explain. But then he sighed and leaned against the bookshelf, meeting her with that intense, frigid gaze that seemed to pierce her mind. A gaze that, strangely, reminded her of the sea's vastness...
They had grown closer without realizing it, and Elentari wondered why. Very few of Solas's actions were without purpose. Did this closeness have one too?
- Tell me, Herald... is there something I can help you with?
The question was sharp, but she was beginning to understand him. Solas wanted her to articulate her concerns, perhaps so he could help her understand.
- What's an intersubjective narrative, Solas? - she whispered, unable to look away. He intrigued her. He was mysterious, magnetic, and that was now undeniable.
Solas, too, couldn't look away. She had touched something deep in him. Her presence unsettled him. There was a pull between them, he felt it. It was far too easy to say too much when standing face to face like this.
In some strange way, Elentari brought out his wisest self, the part of him that only confided in the most trusted spirits. Was she one of them? Did she possess the strength of a remarkable spirit?
Something about the way she looked at him, the way she pushed for meaning even amid war... It allowed him to put his wisdom at the service of life, not the destruction war demanded.
Could it really be?
He decided to let her closeness soften his resolve... and explain, cautiously. He had to remain careful. No one could suspect who he really was.
And so he began:
- The construction of any identity, any at all, requires a collective willingness to believe in the narrative that shapes it, Herald.
He paused.
- It doesn't matter what you or I believe, individually. When something, like this Inquisition, requires widespread cooperation to exist and function, it must be accepted by those who believe in the story being told. That, Herald, gives rise to an intersubjective reality. A reality that exists only because many believe in it, enabling mass cooperation.
He saw her fall silent but remain entirely focused. She was understanding him. So he continued:
- To gather enough power to face this new threat (the Breach) the Inquisition will need mass cooperation. Through an intersubjective narrative, the Inquisition creates its identity and presents it to the world, in order to gain followers.
"And to acquire power", he didn't add. Not yet.
He saw her eyes widen slightly. She was smart. She understood, and that scared him. Because the identity they were shaping to gain that power was hers: the Herald of Andraste, the messenger of a prophet.
- That's why I have to see the Chantry sisters in Val Royeaux... to gain their cooperation. I can't fail. They need to believe I carry Andraste's words... - she whispered, lowering her eyes. Though she tried to hide it, Solas saw the sorrow—despair, even. A part of him longed to comfort her, but that wasn't his role.
- It's no accident they compare you to Andraste, Herald. Or that you're called 'Herald.'
He hated being so blunt, but he knew she could handle it. More than that, she needed to.
- Then maybe you could stop calling me 'Herald.' - To his surprise, she met his gaze again, fierce and sharp with that same arcane fire in her eyes. - If you know that title's being imposed on me, the least you can do is have the courage to call me by my name.
- That's not my place, Elentari. - he replied, though he did as she asked. - I can do so in private, but not in public. You are the living story being built to create order out of chaos. And while now you feel overwhelmed, your actions may shape the future of this organization. Don't underestimate the weight of that. Even if you feel trapped, you may yet shape real change. And sometimes, that's an advantage.
She smirked bitterly. Solas saw himself in her. In time, she would come to accept the role she'd been given, just as he had.
"It's not wrong to remind her she doesn't have to do it alone," Varric's words echoed in his mind. He had restrained himself back then, but now... now he wasn't sure restraint was the wisest course.
Because he had walked his own path of leadership alone... and maybe she didn't have to.
This time, it was Solas who looked away. He couldn't say it aloud, but he told himself he would guide her...
At least, until Corypheus was defeated.
The dwarf had been right...
... at least... until Corypheus was defeated.
After that...
Solas exhaled a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.
After that, he would return to walk the path of dinan'shiral... his duty, his obligation... his curse?
Because he knew... ruthlessness was sometimes the only mercy one could grant oneself.