The Seeker called him into the dark dungeons, where the young Dalish woman was being kept. The lone survivor. It made no sense, how could anyone have survived the explosion? She lay on the stone slab, as if in state, waiting for mourners. Dust turned her almost grey. Solas set about cleaning her face with a cloth, freckles dotted her face, the same as the golden branches of Mythal. She was very young, little more than a girl, and yet so beautiful. It astounded him.
The Mark flared, and she gasped in pain, and he felt his heart tear. He needed to save her, to keep her alive. Her condition was his fault, she had been caught in the middle. Though his magic was still weak, Solas held back the spread. Protecting her from his mistake. Anything for her. He shook his head, a strange thought to suddenly have.
She stabilized, nearly awakening, and the Seeker pushed him from the room, demanding that she be questioned right away. He wanted to stay by her side, he needed to stay. But the Child of the Stone called to him, to aid elsewhere. Begrudgingly he left her side, to help stem the tide of demons falling from the Breach. He hoped she would live, he hoped she would forgive him.
Twisted spirits, demons, they were everywhere. Surrounding them, when a flash of lighting struck true, and there she was, golden hair blowing in the wind, face in a hard grimace as she fought, lighting and ice coming as she called. A warrior goddess among mortals, even dressed in rags.
“Quickly! Before more come through!” He grabbed her hand, guiding a bit of magic to help seal the rift. This close, he finally saw that her eyes where the most beautiful blue he had ever seen.
She pulled her hand back, peering at it in confusion. “I did that?” Cultured, quiet, unassuming. Her voice was music to him, coming from the most perfect pair of lips, a delicate shade of pink to make his heart ache. “Seems I can help at least.”
He felt a flush to his cheeks he’d not felt in a millennium. “Whatever magic placed that Mark on your hand gives you the means to seal the rifts.”
“Good to know. I’d rather not wind up in chains once this is over.” She smiled at him, and his heart felt full to bursting. He barely heard the dwarf introduce himself, lost in her radiant beauty.
“I am Solas, if there are to be introductions. I am pleased to see you yet live.” She nodded at him, fingers tucking a strand of golden hair behind a delicately pointed ear. He ached to stroke her hair again, to feel its silk through his fingers.
“He means that he kept the Mark from killing you.” The dwarf offered, giving him a wink, aware of his distraction. An embarrassing feeling to not be so subtle.
Her eyes widened, “You know about the Mark?” He could feel her curiosity, she yearned to learn. And teach her he would.
“I know a great many things, save for your name.”