Presrop-Chapter Five: Solas

The First Enchanter's mansion was quite grand, not something he would have expected from a Circle Mage. As he had come to understand it, they were usually treated little better than locked animals. Still, even a gilded caged was a prison.

He was in the room that had been given to him, full to the brim with lavish decorations and expensive frivolities. Solas would have much preferred to have stayed somewhere less gaudy, although he was aware it would offend the First Enchanter if he questioned her taste. As amusing as it would be to see her expression if he did make a comment, he did not wish to make any trouble for the Herald.

At the thought of the young elf, Solas felt another wave of guilt wash over him. He made no attempt to stop it, as he was knew he deserved far worse for placing the young woman in such horrible situation. If only he had waited a bit longer, perhaps he could avoided his mistake. He sighed, there was little use complaining about his error, all that he could do now was to find a way to rectify it.

"Know where the food's at?"

The voice startled Solas, and the person far more. The mercenary leader Shepard stood in his doorway, arms crossed over her chest. Her expression was open, relaxed, no indication to let Solas know if she had purposely tried to surprise him. They had not conversed much in the weeks since she had joined, and he was wary of her. It was obvious that she was hiding something, Solas suspected it had to do with her place of origin as he could not recognize her accent. He had also noticed her lack of familiarity with many of Thedas's customs, although she was quick to cover up her confusion. Making sure not to let any of this thoughts show, he answered, "As it is not yet time to dine, I suspect the only place you will find food is in the kitchens. I am certain the staff would accommodate you, were you to ask."

"..Right." She didn't make any move to leave, only stared at him.

"Was there any other assistance you needed?" He did not like how scrutinizing her gaze was.

She waited a moment before answering, "I've been meaning to ask, what kind of jaw is that?" Her gaze flickered down to his necklace briefly.

Off all the questions she could have offered, he would not have suspected this to be one. What could she gain from knowing this? He had a small thought that she guessed his identity, but quickly wrote it off. That was his own paranoia, it was ridiculous that she could have thought that so soon, "It is a wolf's jaw. I have had it since I was a young man, it is a … reminder of sorts."

Her expression did not change, "Oh." Had he said too much? He had not given away much, although- she cut him off, "I can understand that." He let his face show his confusion. "Wanting to keep reminders. Some things shouldn't be forgotten." Here her face showed a brief flicker of deep emotion. It was a look Solas had seen many times, that of a soldier remembering past battles. Past losses. He knew her for a mercenary, although he would not have guessed her to have had such feelings. He found that most mercenaries did not dwell upon past deaths. They took it as part of the job. Silently, Solas stored this piece of information away to examine later.

Shepard shook her head, raising her hand in a farewell, "Thanks. Hopefully they have some nice cake down there. Been a while since I've had something sweet." She left, leaving Solas to ponder their short conversation.