Before Holli slipped out of her bedroll, piled high with every blanket Cole had brought her the evening before, she cast the warming spell on herself to fortify her against the inevitable cold.
She stood up, stretching her arms above her head and letting out a startled yelp.
Solas was leaning against the desk, legs crossed at the ankles, a book in his hands. He pulled his eyes from the book and looked over at her.
"You didn't have dinner last night. You're still recovering; you shouldn't be missing meals," he told her, snapping the book closed. "Get dressed. I'll wait outside."
He placed the book on the desk; it had been the one she was reading yesterday when she'd fallen asleep on it. It was a book about lost magical arts. She had been hoping to find something useful to get her home. Even if it wasn't helpful so far, it was fascinating reading. But it didn't really explain how to use these magics. That was probably the 'lost' part.
Holli quickly changed out of her pyjamas, just a hoodie and leggings that had been sitting in the bottom of her backpack. She pulled on her jeans, thermal top, black Converses, and her coat. One of the ladies here had repaired it and cleaned it as best she could after the damage done to it during Haven and her trek through the snow after. She quickly brushed her hair so it wasn't a rats nest. She had lost her beanie after Haven too; it was her only one. She couldn't even hide her hair under it.
She met Solas out in the hallway, eyeing him warily. He'd made it clear he was still pissed with her, by actions if not words.
He started walking, and she fell into step beside him.
"How are you feeling?" He asked.
"Fine," she replied.
"In the chaos of the last few days, and you being ill, there have been people who wanted to speak with you but were unable."
He led her down the hall and up a flight of steps. He opened a door that led out into the garden, where there was a small group of people. She recognised some of them, the people she had healed the day of the attack, the ones who couldn't make it to the Chantry on their own. At least not before she had healed them.
A woman stepped forward; Holli recognised her as the woman who'd had no hand and a broken leg. She knelt in front of Holli, down on one knee, head bowed. With the hand that Holli had regrown, she offered a handful of coins.
"If I had more, I would give it," she said.
Holli stared a moment, her mind taking a second to process before she shook her head. Holli took her wrist, urging her to get up.
"You don't have to give me anything, and please don't kneel."
She wasn't some tyrant holding people's health hostage. What did they think she was, the American healthcare system?
"You gave me back my sword hand, my livelihood," the woman said. "It is a debt I cannot repay."
"There is no debt," Holli said, a little panicked. She looked to everyone else. "There's no debt. Don't make it weird."
"We're alive because of you," another man said; she remembered him, the legless guy.
"My husband can walk because of you," the woman beside him said.
Okay, cool, but it was magic. Lots of people could do magic.
"Awesome, I'm glad for you, but there are plenty of mages about. If it hadn't been me, it would have been someone else," Holli said.
That statement drew odd looks; the small group gathered looked to Solas, and she got the distinct feeling she was missing something. Solas merely shook his head, dismissing whatever it was.
"My wife made this for you," Legless said, holding out a beanie that strongly resembled her lost one.
"I couldn't get the pink you so favour out here; I'm—"
"You made this for me?" Holli said, reverently taking the white woollen hat from his hands. "No one's ever made anything for me before."
It was sad, but true. Her mother didn't even bother making a cake on her birthday. And her friends just bought her things, mostly lollies, nail polish, or books they thought she might like, usually from secondhand bookshops. They knew her favourite one. One year Curtis's gift to her had been to pay her late fees at the library. She loved their gifts and appreciated them hard, but there was something to knowing someone had made something especially for her. Pumped time and effort into it.
Holli held the hat in her hand, absently running her thumbs over the softness of it. It even had a pompom on the top.
She looked to the woman, a wide grin on her face. "Thank you," she said, pulling the hat on.
The action made the couple smile, the woman pulling Holli into a hug, which she awkwardly returned.
The others gave her thanks as well, taking her hand or squeezing her shoulder. Holli spoke with them for a few moments, learning their names and what they did around the keep. Most of them had been—and now were again—soldiers in the Inquisition's army.
When they left to return to their duties, Holli spun towards Solas, beaming and looking up at what she could see of the rim of the beanie upon her head.
"It's cute, right?" She said, more a statement than a question, as she lightly squeezed the pompom on top.
"Yes," he replied, the faintest hint of an indulgent smile playing at his lips. "Do you see now, your usefulness beyond a rift key? But it is important that you know your usefulness to the Inquisition is not the most important thing about you."
He gestured for her to walk with him again.
"While I understand the desire to contribute, there are alternatives to martyrdom."
She tilted her head to the side, all wide-eyed curiosity. "There are? Like what?"
His eyes narrowed on her at her flippancy.
"You're not amusing."
She disagreed, but whatever.
"What was that about before? When they all looked at you like that," she asked.
"Your ability to heal is... astounding, Holli. No one can regrow limbs as you did. It has been universally accepted as fact that it is an impossible feat."
"Has anyone actually tried? Because I managed in, like, a second."
Ok, a second might have been an exaggeration, but still...
"Yes, people have tried. Far more experienced mages than yourself at that."
"So why can I do it?"
"The answer to that eludes me. When it comes to you and magic, there is much I have yet to find answers for."
"Can't just put it down to 'it's magic?'" She asked, wiggling her fingers mysteriously.
"Magic isn't some nonsensical force without rhyme or reason."
"Really?" This time she meant it, genuinely stumped at the concept. She had thought that was exactly how magic was.
He had explained how it worked, but she had honestly understood it to mean there was little it couldn't do as long as you had the power to back it up. Magic was literally used to alter reality. He had specifically said one was limited by their imagination. When she pointed that out to him, he'd looked at her curiously, a look that had quickly become speculative.
"What?" She asked.
"While I doubt your gift with magic is caused by something as simple as the way you view it, it may play a part."
"Doesn't everyone view magic this way?"
"Perhaps once, they might have. But it is certainly not the case today. Magic is often met with fear and suspicion. Even most of those born with it see it as a curse rather than a gift. And another portion of the population see it as a means to power, a tool to subjugate."
"I wonder if I'll still be able to use it once I get home," she murmured, more to herself than him.
"Which brings us to something else I must ensure you understand." He looked at her, expression serious. Well, more serious than his usual serious. "You did not die to come here. And dying will not take you home. That idea needs to be laid to rest."
"But how do you know though? When people die here, they go to the Fade, right? Just another world."
"The Fade is not 'just another world.' And when they die, their spirits, their souls, go there. Is that how you would like to return home?"
"But maybe it would be different for me. I've been the exception to a lot of rules so far." Apparently.
"Are you willing to bet your life on that?"
Holli let out a sigh. Not to the point she would kill herself to check. But maybe enough she'd take risks she wouldn't usually take.
"You're sure it won't work like that?" She asked.
"Yes."
"Fine," she conceded. "I'll give up the idea."
"Thank you. I know you wish to return home, but dying will not do it."
Holli nodded. She would give up on the idea, but not entirely because she didn't believe it. More because Solas seemed so certain.
"I'm sorry if I worried you," she said softly.
"'If'?" He quirked a brow at her.
"That I worried you," she amended. "Because you... care if I die?"
She winced at how needy that sounded and hoped he hadn't heard it given how quietly it had come out.
"Of course I care if you die, da'len," he replied. "So do the others."
As embarrassing as that had been, she had to fight down a smile. Today was a nice day. A nice lady had made her a hat, and the people she had spent the last however many months with cared about her well-being. Even the fact he'd called her 'child' didn't diminish it. Maybe it was the subtle fondness in his tone or the softness in his eyes that took the offence out of it. Or maybe because he didn't mean it as a slight or a reason to disregard her.
Back home she had Curtis and Yvette, and her mum cared sometimes. But beyond them, she didn't really have a lot of connections. And though she was fond of and cared for the people here, there was always that fear that it was one-sided. They looked out for her because they needed her. Maybe it had started that way, but it was nice to know it hadn't stayed that way.
"Cool. Cool cool cool," she breathed out.