What did you do today in DA? [Spoilers]

They both look horrible but it was the only good screenshot I have

Rowan sat in front of the fire.  Her little cabin was surprisingly well built to withstand the cold.  There no was draft and the room was warm and comfortable.  She sipped her tea, a mix of mint, chamomile and lemongrass.  The Keeper had provided Rowan with the herbs.   The young elf was prone to terrible seasickness and the herbal tea helped.  Now she simply found it soothing.  The herbs were easy to find, since it liked the same growing conditions as "elfroot."

Her ears still rang with the clash of steel from the courtyard.  For the first week, she couldn't bear to be seen in that area.  Painful memories of leaving Starkhaven were flooding back.  She went about sliently in the shaows at first, out of instinctual fear.  She was gradually getting used to it, but it seemed like endless noise.

She sighed and stared into the fire.  The day had been long, but the evening had felt longer. The young elven servant was incessantly trying to "see to her needs."  Rowan insisted on preparing her own bath, yes the pot had enough water for the tub and no, she didn't need another blanket.  When the girl was offering to help Rowan bathe, she dismissed the servant.

Rowan poured the hot water into the brass tub.  It was a nice change to bathe indoors and with her own space.  She took her time with it, rinsing out her short hair.  She got out, covering herself with a towel.  It was soft, absorbent and warm from the fire.  Reaching into her pack, she pulled out an old tunic and halla breeches lined with rabbit fur.  Perfect for sleeping in.


"By Mythal," Rowan thought as she dressed for bed.  "You'd think I was some sort of pampered noble.  If only the child realized that this is almost like a palace for me.  Warm food, warm fire and a place to think."

"What am I doing here?" she wondered.  "I hate fighting.  I don't like magic and I don't care for humans.  Now I have to deal with a human army, the devout that left the Chantry.  I am up to my eyeballs in magic bullshit, as Varric might say.  The humans are on edge and looking for a fight.  How long is it before they come after me?"  

"Plus, there is the Qunari."  Her eyes glanced towards the window.  "He seems nice enough, but I'm keeping an eye on him.  At least he was honest about his profession.  I'd better not see other members of the Qun around here."

Her thoughts interrupted by a knock on the door.  "It's that elf girl again, I just bloody know it."  With a sigh, she moved across the room.  "It's late, nearly midnight.  What in the name of the Maker does she want this time."  She opened the door without looking up.

"Yes, I'm fine.  I'll let you know if I need anything.."

"Is this a bad time?"  The calm measured voice startled her.

"Oh, Solas.  Please, come on in."  She unconsciously ran her fingers through her hair, a sure sign of her nervousness.

Solas smiled, but didn't comment on it.  He stepped into the cabin and sat down beside the fire. He moved with a catlike grace, fueled by purpose.  Even a simple act of sitting down had it's own elegance to it.  He smiled at her and gestured to come sit beside him.

 Watching Solas made Rowan incredibly homesick.  She had been surrounded by everyone but elves in the last two months.  "I couldn't wait to leave," she thought.  "Now I want to go home."

"Something wrong, Rowan?"  Solas gave her a puzzled look.

"No, it's nothing."  She walked over to him and sat down.  She reached over near the hearth, were she had kept her tea warm.  "Tea?"

"No thank you."  He smiled.  "I prefer water.  Or wine."  Rowan smiled.

"So, what brings you out here? I'm sure that I would have known if a dragon or a Fade rift was around."  Rowan laughed.  "Varric told me that Cassandra would let us know if the End of the World was coming."

"And he's probably right.  The Seeker is a fiercely passionate woman, armed with her faith and her sword.  All of those things are very admirable."  He paused.  "She will do anything to protect you and this army of the devout."

"She can also yell the loudest," Rowan said.  "She'd probably let everyone know from here to Redcliffe."

Solas laughed, his eyes twinkling as he looked at her.  "That is very true.  Most generals do so.  It tends to emphasize the point.  Now, as for your question, how are you feeling?"

"No one's mistreated me or called me a "knife-ear" yet.  That's a good start."

"That is good to hear."  He smiled, then his face sobered.  "Are you alright after everything that's happened?"

Rowan spoke without thinking, "Yes.  I think so.  Oh sod it, I don't know anymore. I'm tired. Scared.  I hate the sound of the soliders practicing in the courtyard.  I hate human politics and I despise their religions too. "  She set down her tea cup and stared into the fire.  "I hate war.  I never wanted this.  All I wanted was to have a quiet life with my clan."

Solas gently touched Rowan's arm, causing her to look up.  "The clan that treated you like you were sort sort of pariah?  I thought you wanted to leave, to start your own life."

"Yes, but..."  She shrugged.  "I just wanted to live somewhere calm and peaceful.  If such a place can exist for someone like me.  I'm neither Dalish nor do I identify with elves that stayed in the alienages.  I wanted to find my own path."  She laughed with a bitter sound.  "So much for that idea."

"You have been called to a greater purpose.  Sometimes fate has a way of guiding us.  Sometimes, it'll force us to make terrible choices for the greater good of all."  

It was his turn to stare into the fire.  "That's what it means to lead the people, to lead an army."  He looked up at her and gave her a small smile.  "I can understand wanting to go home."

Rowan reached for her cup.  "I know if I don't stay, there won't be a home to go back to.  There won't be anything left at all."  She drank the rest of her cup.  She stared at the bottom like a soothsayer trying to read the future in the remaining dregs.  "I'm going to Redcliffe Castle first thing in the morning.  I'd like you to be there."

Solas smiled and gently stroked her hair.  "You didn't even need to ask."  He looked up.  "It's late, da'len.  The moon has already reached it's zenith."  He stood up and offered his hand to Rowan.   She took it, climbing onto her feet.  "You need your rest."

Rowan nodded, then cracked a yawn.  "Apparently chasing rogue templars, crazy mages and securing an entire area takes it out of you." She yawned again.  "I'm more tired than I thought.  May I walk you out?"

"How kind of you."  He stopped at the doorway and turned to her.  "I enjoyed talking with you Rowan.  Especially when the hour is late and Haven is quiet.  Perhaps we could do this again sometime?"

Rowan blushed and was thankful for the dim light.  "I'd really like that.  Perhaps tomorrow night, after dealing with the magister?" She stifled another yawn.

"That sounds like a plan."  Solas took both of Rowan's hands lightly into his own.  "Sleep well, Rowan.  I'll see you in the morning."  He made a small movement, then squeezed her hands.  "Good night, da'len."

"Good night, Solas."  He gave a last smile and walked into the night.  Rowan shut the door, feeling a little lighter than she had before.  She couldn't remember ever being this exhausted.

She turned to the fire, which had almost burned down to embers.  It was perfectly comfortable despite the very cold night air.  Crawling under the blankets, she burrowed herself and began to doze off.  As she laid there her last thought was, "At least I'm not alone anymore."  She promptly fell into a deep sleep.  

Rowan's dreams were filled with images of running with a wolf through the forest.  It was like she'd known this wolf her whole life.  Oddly enough, it had Solas' eyes.