Author's Note:

Some time ago, on Bioware's Solas Sympathy thread, Kryllian requested a post-game story based on the Clannad song: I will find you. I said I would. It's been nearly a year in the making, but I finally got my stuff together! I had several plans and rewrites and scraps and everything in between. Then, they announced that the final DLC for the game has been released, and apparently Solas and Lavellan get some kind of ending. Well, I wanted to get Starling's ending out before I played it. So, here we go.

If you haven't yet, check out my other story Look to the Sky for Solavellan fluff and relationship development. This story takes place post-game (No DLCs) in some kind of AU. Starling is my Lavellan. The rest is the emotionally addictive creations of Bioware.

EDIT 11-27-2015 – I have been having a hard time with the pacing of this story and some of the dialogue. I am still working, it's just taking a little bit of time. I am going back to edit these first chapters before posting anything further. Thanks for reading!

Summary:

It's been six turns of the moon since Starling Lavellan and The Inquisition defeated Corypheus. What now? Starling searches for the one who left her, and is roped into locating someone she left behind.

No matter where you go, I will find you.

In the place with no frontiers.

No matter where you go, I will find you.

If it takes a thousand years.

~Clannad

The clouds reigned so black they were nearly blue, and thick darkness enveloped her body once more. The people and memories of the past lived on in The Fade, muddled and disorganized, echoing chaotically in the very spot she'd defeated her enemy. The mark on her wrist itched and came alive, reacting to the latent energy. The mark might attract nearby spirits, she knew. It was her intent. Help me, she thought, in an attempt to bend them to her will. A flash of green light; a change in the wind, and Corypheus was gone. The Fade reflected old feelings. The sweetness of relief. The bitterness of loss. Her mind, free in the fade, sent out its call.

What did you want? ... Why were you here? ... "Why did you leave?" Starling choked out the last sentence aloud, the tears returning to her indigo green eyes, and the harsh pain of holding back stabbed in her throat. The image was the same answer she'd received for many months. The lean silhouette walked away as her back was turned, and disappeared into the ether. Once more, she reached into the tome of The Fade, deftly turning the pages with practiced fingers.

"Where are you?" she demanded. Her body tensed, attempting to force the familiar feeling of traveling to an others' dream-space in her stomach. With every fiber of her being, she begged to feel the pull of an answer. She felt nothing. Every page, blank. In frustration, she flipped through the tome with fury. The Fade groaned in response, and a burning pain shot through her wrist; a threat to tear the the veil itself. Ice flooded her veins, and she felt sweat coating pallid skin; cold and clammy.

Solas, smells of cedar and earth and rifts. Where are you? She conjured an image of him in her minds eye. A soft whispered memory lingered in response. No matter what happens, the scent was sharp and familiar in her nose and she inhaled, relishing it. Your voice is soft like summer rain. Where are you? The memory continued; A solitary echo. I want you to know... The familiarity of the voice caught her attention. It was vivid, as if he stood in front of her once more. She continued on, focusing the spell. Your hands rough, but gentle, tingling on my skin... Where are you?! He appeared before her, a shimmering illusion. He looked the same as he had when he left; his lilac eyes dimmed with sadness. He gave her a smile that didn't reach them, and reached out his calloused hand to touch her bare cheek and stroke her hair. That what we had, was real. Starling felt her nose twitch in anger. You broke my heart! He turned away, shoulders slumped. You broke my heart...

Starling could feel the tears flowing from her eyes, though she willed them to stop. More images floated before her; a rotting stinking demon; a young girl, dead and lifeless on the floor; an angry gash in the sky; a pooled mirror, gold and shimmering; a castle-yard, filled with innocents entombed in glowing blood. The images flew faster, accompanied by deafening silence. She cried out in frustration, slamming the book closed. The world spun around her, the sickly green fusing with ebon clouds. The taste of dirt filled her mouth as the blackness lifted to flashes of crimson sunlight through closed lids. Her wrist burned, and the keys inside twitched and screamed at her to let them out. She stilled herself and opened her eyes. The sun was high. It danced in the piercing blue, defying the ugly scar that marred its home.

"Starling?" a raspy and tentative voice spoke, and she felt a large balmy hand cover her own. She blinked a few more times to flush the water from her eyes and focused, turning her head toward the familiar sound. Blackwall, she thought, the warmth returning to her chest. Then, she remembered. No, not Blackwall. Thom. His name is Thom. The chill returned. The immense man crouched next to her, sweating in the heat, clad in chainmail and boiled leather. His azure eyes flashed with concern. Starling felt herself nod in response. She moved to speak but her mouth was dry, offering a croaking sound instead. His other hand produced a water skin, and she sat up on her elbows, accepting it gladly.

"Thank you," she said, her voice escaping as a dry whisper. She felt her stomach rumble. "How long was I out?" She eyed the man, and then her gaze fell beyond, bringing their surroundings into focus. A few new tents had been erected at the campsite some ways away from where she lay, but mostly everything looked the same. Decaying broken ruins surrounded them in contrast to the cheeriness of daylight.

"About ten hours," he responded, releasing her hand and running a few fingers through his thick black beard. She noticed dark rings around his eyes. He must have stayed watch over her the entire time. "Is it always like that?" he asked. Starling nodded.

"Give or take," she replied as the pain in her throat began to subside. She accepted the bread, cheese, and dried fruit he offered next, and swallowed more of the water. He stared at her, the worry making a home on his forehead, which he wiped with the back of his hand. Ferelden was in the throes of summer, and the sun had beaten the land relentlessly. Sweat covered everyone in a thick sheen, and all sighed in anguished relief at even the hint of a breeze. On the few other occasions she'd come to the Valley of Sacred Ashes to lie among the ruins, her dear friend Dorian had traveled with her. But Dorian was gone, and the uneasy warrior insisted to be her escort in his stead. "Thom" she said, the name still foreign to her lips. "You needn't be armed. We are safe here. You'll sweat to death." Her tone was friendly but guarded, and the chill of the fade lingered in her rib cage despite the heat.

"I know, Li- Starling," he fumbled over the words. Starling nearly winced. Their relationship had not been the same since... She removed the thought from her mind.

"I should order you to disarm," she said in jest, trying to give a genuine smile. He gave a close lipped one in response.

"An I could tell you where to shove your orders, Inquisitor," he chuckled, briefly gesturing to the griffon symbol that was emblazoned on his chest. She'd given the command; for her friend; her brother, to be sworn into the Gray Wardens. He had abandoned her; betrayed her and The Inquisition. In her outrage, she promised he would make amends as she saw fit. If he would pose as one, so should he become. And so it was done. One of her many regrets. After the fall of Corypheus, he left for a time to join The Wardens, and she forgave him in his absence, missing his reassuring presence and clear eyed stare. Months later, after her brief tour of Orlais and Ferelden in celebration of the defeat of Corypheus, the man formerly known as Blackwall returned. He brought word that the Wardens assigned him and a small detachment of Grey Wardens as an Inquisition liaison. Internally, Starling's heart leaped with happiness, but the distrust lingered in the back of her mind, like the roots of a gnarled weed choking a flower. He was not the same. Thom Rainier arrived with a new name, a new purpose, and his countenance even grimmer. Their relationship was not as it was. Creators take my anger, and damn my stubbornness, she thought.

"I wish you would forgive me," she said instead, her gaze moving from the griffon to his tired eyes. He offered a half smile that didn't reach them.

"I carry the blame for both of us, little bird," he said, squeezing her shoulder. She felt better for a brief moment. He hadn't called her that in quite some time. She missed the endearment.

"Then forgive yourself!" she said, boldly, her voice waking from its slumber. He had no response, other than to offer a hand to help her stand.

"Everything is packed and ready to go, just as you asked," he said, though he sounded oddly far away. Stars flashed before her in a dizzying haze as she climbed to her feet. She instinctively reached out her free hand hand to grab his arm, and he sidled to her before she could stumble. The human looked at her with those troubled blue eyes, but said nothing. He didn't need to.

"I stood up too fast, that's all," she said, placating him as she squeezed his hand reassuringly. He grunted and let her go once he was satisfied she could stand. She reached her arms above her head and stretched out, admiring the "view."

The Valley of Sacred Ashes was still a bleak ruin, though small sprouts of weeds and green grass threatened to bring life to the place. There was a small camp down the road, which she suspected would become a town again in the near future. A New Haven, perhaps, she thought idly. People from all over Thedas traveled here to make their pilgrimage; to see the place where The Herald of Andraste flew high and vanquished the Evil Corypheus, bringing tenuous peace to the land. Now, it was nothing but an open field of ruins, crowned by the scar in the sky. Starling wondered if the view disappointed the pilgrims. The Inquisition still maintained a presence, and not far from her chosen location, a section of land had been cordoned off.

"How large did Gatsi say the statue would be?" Rainier asked, noticing her gaze. She sighed and shook her head.

"Creators... I have no idea." She rubbed her forehead and groaned. "I'll bet you twenty sovereigns they make my tits bigger than they are," she said, unable to hide a laugh. Even the grumpy warden had to chuckle.

"Oh no... I can't make a bet like that on a warrior's salary," he said, grinning as he rolled up the mat she used to travel into The Fade and strapped it to her pack. "I'm still trying to win back my favorite pants from Varric," he added as he stood up and handed the bundle to her gingerly. He treated her with more care than ever before; as if she were one of his fragile wooden dolls he carved for children. She was simultaneously grateful and annoyed. I am not a child, she thought. I will not wither and die from a broken heart. She shoved her arms in the straps and hoisted it on her back. He turned away, and took a breath to speak.

"The horses are ready when you are," he said, gesturing in the direction of the crude stables. She rubbed her eyes and nodded, taking a few steps toward him.

"Thank you, Thom," she said as she placed a hand on his forearm. "For coming with me... For everything." He looked down to the ground. "Do you need to rest?" she added, noting his slumped shoulders. He shook his head briefly.

"I'm a real Warden now," he said after a moment. She opened her mouth to interrupt him, but he held up his hand to stop her. "But that doesn't change a damn thing. You set me on this path... to make things right. I owe you my life, Starling. Anything you need, I will always be here. An' if something's important to you, well... then it's important to me too," he said, and his gravely voice gave a slight hitch.

Starling could feel her lower lip tremble slightly as the tears welled in her eyes again. She sniffed and threw her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. The feeling of his large muscular arms around her proved to be a familiar comfort, and an immense feeling of relief washed over her as she felt the change between them. They would be friends. The Herald found herself crying again; alternating between thank yous and apologies in between sobs. The fight for Thedas was over, and Starling should be relieved. Instead, she found herself mourning her personal losses.

It was a sad day when her dear Dorian returned to Tevinter. The Iron Bull, Krem, and the rest of the Chargers were gone too, chasing the dream of coin, ale, and adventure. A part of Starling wished she could join them. She had grown quite close to Dalish, the elven "archer." Vivienne lead mages and templars in Orlais in who desired a new Circle. Sera kept a room at the tavern in Skyhold but was often gone as well, her tireless quest to fluster the nobles of Thedas still incomplete. Cassandra Pentaghast, honorable and just, was deemed to be the new Divine. Her policies, fair, but not as progressive as Starling might like, meant for a crucial alliance between The Inquisition and the Chantry. The new Divine sent letters regularly, but was unable to visit. Starling's vallaslin and clan identity, gone with a gesture. And, of course, the mysterious disappearance of the man responsible for breaking her heart compiled the pain.

"There, there, my girl," he said, in a voice softer than she'd ever heard. "I was a fool to leave, but I had a reason… Solas is also a fool, but I'm sure he's got a reason, too." She sniffled again and nodded, pulling away so they were face to face. He raised a hand and wiped her tears away with his rough thumbs.

"I am ready," she said, and they walked together to the stables.

The ride back to Skyhold was relatively uneventful. Starling chose a small but sturdy brown palfrey for the journey. Thom rode a large grey stallion, whose behavior was nearly as stoic as his passenger. As they rode, they noticed many travelers, and Starling could scarcely believe the number of caravans heading in the same direction.

"More pilgrims, coming to sing your praises," Rainier remarked to her as they trotted by a Ferelden caravan, complete with mounted Knights, a rolling wheelhouse, and at least one hundred on foot. The wheelhouse and the knights were decorated with flags bearing the sigil of a bull's head, and Starling wished she'd paid better attention to Josephine when it came to Ferelden heraldry. Though Starling was clad in a simple linen robe that bore no mark, she kept her head covered, lest she be recognized by every man, woman, and child along the way. Starling shot him a look.

"It wasn't my idea," she said quickly, her voice low. Thom offered a toothy grin in response. Starling couldn't recall exactly what triggered their arrival. After the defeat of Corypheus, people from all over Thedas began to present themselves at Skyhold. Some just wanted to see her in the flesh, or receive her blessing. Others wanted her to settle their disputes and grudges, and still more came to take in the marvel that was Skyhold. At first, Starling enjoyed the attention. It kept her mind off of the loss of so many friends and comrades. Then, she and her advisers began to worry. What would Ferelden and Orlais make of a strong entity so close to their borders? What is our purpose? The questions made Starling uneasy. So far, her interactions with the rulers and ambassadors of Orlais and Ferelden were diplomatic, but Josephine claimed it wouldn't last. Starling begrudgingly obliged these visitors, holding "court" in her throne room, while Sera, if she was visiting, teased the reluctant Inquisitor from the back.

Thom gave her a look that asked, "Do you want to stop?" Starling shook her head from beneath her cowl. They continued on, inconspicuously joining the travelers heading to Skyhold.