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Ar Vir	By : draygon Category: +A through F > Dragon Age (all) > Dragon Age (all) Views: 3998 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Bioware owns Dragon Age and my heart. I am just playing in their sandbox and am making no monies from this work.

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"Focus your power. Think of it as a river flowing through you and you are able to divert it and limit it as you wish."
Lathalam rubbed her face with her hands, yawning wide.
Solas tilted his head at his unexpected student. "You possess great power, yet you pull back the moment it manifests. You need not fear magic so."
Lathalam clenched her fists in her mahogany hair, resisting the urge to scream. "But it shouldn't exist!"
Solas took a step back, the force behind her words like a fist hitting him in the chest.
"Magic's been nothing but myth since forever!" Lathalam had taken to pacing back and forth in the area behind Master Tagen's house that Solas had chosen to help her control her abilities. "All we have are bits and pieces of folklore and ruins with half translations and conjecture sprinkled on top for flavor."
She seemed completely unaware of of the alarm spreading over Solas' face.
"And these... things that happen when I am asleep! What the hell is going on in my head when it hits the pillow? When I fall asleep, I should just sleep. My mind conjuring up mish-mash nonsense and whispers shouldn't be happening!" Her pacing had sped up until she had worn a rut in the snow, the area around becoming more and more coated with ice. "I should be back in Hossburg, taking care of the artifacts under my care! There's probably streaks and fingerprints all over the golden mirrors lining the walls!
"Golden mirrors?"
"The... I can't even think of the word right now!" She stopped in her tracks, noticing for the first time that a three-foot wall of ice had formed around the area she was pacing in. "And why the hell am I in an ice box?"
Solas' concern was replaced with a nagging sense that he was looking at something that should not be. "You have never dreamed before? Never stepped into the fade to see ancient memories or interact with spirits?"
"We haven't dreamed in over a thousand years, Solas." Lethalam stared at one corner of the ice wall that had formed around her, running her hands through her short hair.
Solas pursed his lips, deciding that further questioning would only distress the Herald even more. Raising his hand, he conjured a flame that melted one side of the wall she had unintentionally built around herself. Instead of walking out, she continued to stare at her corner. She took her staff, twirled it expertly and brought it crashing down on the weakest part of the wall, shattering it like glass.
"So you have used a staff before."
"Not for magic, or what ever this is." Lethalam rolled her eyes and the staff whirled in her hands as she used it as a martial weapon. "Even without demons pouring out of every nook and cranny imaginable, we still have to know how to defend ourselves. Give me a pair of blades or a quarter-staff and I can do just fine. This I have no idea what to do with."
Solas watched as she trudged back toward Haven, his brows furrowed as he followed. He was determined to get to the bottom of this as soon as possible.

Solas closed the door to his small hut, the setting sun bathing everything in an orange blaze. The Herald was as obstinate as ever, seeming to resist every attempt at assisting her, especially when it came to magic. He set his staff in a corner and rekindled the blaze in the hearth with a flick of his wrist. He stripped out of his over shirt and hung it and his necklace on the chair as he settled into the rickety bed. He placed one arm behind his head and laid the other on his belly as he closed his eyes.
Almost instantly, he found himself in the grey mists of the fade. If he wanted, he could stay here and rest his mind, but he had other plans. Reaching out, he felt for the Herald and recoiled almost instantly as though he had been bitten. He steeled himself and reached out again, this time ready for the backlash as he pulled himself into her dreams. Instantly he felt queasy.
Usually, when he entered the dreams of others, there was some semblance of the waking world represented. Here, nothing made sense. The sky was a warped shade of green, the kind one usually sees on a patient before the surgeon has to cut the limb off. The huts of Haven stood in a random semi circle around the Herald, some sunk half way into the ground, others standing on their sides or roofs. None were made of wood. Instead they were constructed of gristle and bone with sinew for shudders. The chantry looked as though it had erupted out of the ground, it's doors gaping like a giant, dagger toothed maw, the inside lit by intense flame.
In the middle of it all, sat the Herald on her knees. She wore a strange dress that seemed a more practical version of Orlesian fashion. The buttons were burnished bronze and the colors were deep and subdued. She held her head in her hands, great sobs racking her body.
"Lethalam," Solas called to the Herald, hoping a familiar face would calm her. When she lifted her head, her eyes widened, her gloved hands held out as though to keep him from coming any closer.
"No... not you again!" She lifted herself off of the ground and ran in the opposite direction. "You're not real! None of this is real!"
Solas stopped short, her words puzzling him. "Lethalam! Calm yourself," he called as she ran. "This is the Fade, it reacts to your fear." He watched as she kept running, not even pausing to look back. "Fenedhis," he cursed as he ran after her.
Lathalam ran for what felt like forever, branches and roots catching her clothing and tearing at it. She did not pause to look back and as she burst the perimeter of trees, she stopped short, her shoes skidding on the ground before she fell. Before her, a precipice loomed, a sheer cliff falling away into nothing but mist. For all she knew, there was no bottom.
As Solas stepped out of the trees, he slowed his pace. He did not want to startle her again. Yet when she heard his foot steps, she went stock still. Slowly she turned her head, her eyes connecting with something far over Solas' head. A harsh curse issued from his lips as he took a deep breath, closing his eyes.
As Lethalam made to get to her feet, a grey fog obscured her vision before being blown away, revealing Solas standing on the edge of the cliff with her. She cast her eyes about wildly, fearing what had chased her would return as he approached. She cried out, startled as Solas held her arms, helping her to her feet. "Lethalam," he called her name softly, waiting until her eyes met his. "You are safe. This is the Fade." He kept her eyes on his as she calmed down, her body not trembling so much. He felt the weariness bring her shoulders down as she teetered forward to land face first on his chest.
Solas cradled her gently as he set her down on the ground and stayed with her until she woke the next morning.
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