The first time the nightmares came, she'd huddled into a ball in her dark cell, burying her head between her knees until the strange phantom screams finally faded. The second time, she'd mercifully woken up before the dream became really horrific.
The third time was impossible to hide. She awoke suddenly and violently, thrashing against the hands forcing her into a sitting position. She had a vague sense of being surrounded and lunged for the knife lying just above her pillow.
Another hand lightly touched her forehead, gentle and cool. "Deep breaths, Inquisitor. You are in your tent, camping in the forests just outside Redcliffe. Open your eyes. Slowly."
Her sleep-fogged mind put a name to the voice. Solas. The hands holding her still loosened their grasp, and she jerkily pulled free. She felt Solas's fingers brush her cheek and slowly opened her eyes to meet his; his face was quiet, calm, but his eyes studied her gravely.
Clariel Lavellan blinked once, then looked around the tent. The Seeker sat beside her, looking odd without her usual armor. "I was switching watch with Varric when I heard you screaming to wake the dead," said Cassandra, her eyes darting between the elf and her hunting knife. "You had all but strangled yourself with the blankets, and the mark on your hand--"
With a slightly sick feeling in her stomach, Clariel looked down at her left hand. The green glow was fading, but still apparent to everyone. "Thank you, Seeker," she said. "Both of you."
"If you would leave us for a moment, Seeker Cassandra?" said Solas, still watching the young Inquisitor intently. Cassandra looked like she was going to protest, then shrugged her shoulders and marched out of the tent. Solas waited until he heard her footsteps retreating down the camp. "May I?" He gestured toward her left hand.
Clariel let him take her limp fingers and trying to just focus on her breathing. She couldn't really remember the dream--or maybe she just didn't want to. It was certainly a silver lining she hadn't expected. Gradually, her heart rate dropped closer to normal, though she could still feel cold sweat beading on her skin. She glanced at Solas, who was studying her palm minutely.
"It does not seem to be spreading," he finally said, dropping her hand. The green glow had disappeared entirely by now.
"I suppose you'll want to hear what I dreamed about," said Clariel wearily. "But I don't really--"
"Inquisitor," he said gently, "I don't need to hear anything if you are not ready to tell me."
All she could do was stare at him. After a whirlwind of interrogations and demands since her ill-fated trip to Haven, the words coming out of his mouth didn't seem to fit in with the world. Finally, she realized he was waiting for a response of some kind. "Thank you," she managed to whisper.
They sat there in silence for a few minutes before she found her voice again. "Could I ask you something, Solas?"
He smiled a little. "You just have, but of course."
"You're lucid when you're in the Beyond. Can you find other dreamers?"
He frowned, and she caught some unease and hesitation before he nodded.
Clariel gathered her courage and took a deep breath. "When I have nightmares like these, do you think you could do something to help? In the Beyond, I mean."
Solas's frown deepened. "I could," he began slowly. "But you do not know what you're asking. In order to help you, I would have to enter your dreams." He paused to let his words sink in. "When you dream, your mind is vulnerable, your thoughts and secrets laid bare. It is why the somniari were so feared."
"I'll take it over being afraid to close my eyes at night," she replied, unfazed. He looked like he was about to protest, so she held up a hand to stop him. "None of us are mages, and most mages don't know as much about the Beyond as you do. I already have to trust that you know what you're doing. If you wanted me dead or corrupted, you've had ample opportunity...which you clearly haven't exploited."
"That is an...interesting vote of confidence."
She shrugged. "It's the truth. But I know I'm asking a lot of you. If you'd rather not do this, I understand."
Solas shook his head. "I want to help you, Inquisitor. I also want to you to understand the confidence that you are placing in me. I promise--"
"Don't," said Clariel sharply. "People break oaths and promises all the time. Better not to make them at all."
He blinked at her, surprised. "...very well. I will do my best not to intrude upon your dreams unless absolutely necessary. And I will try not to breach your trust."
Clariel felt herself smiling for the first time in days, a little bit of the tension easing from her shoulders. "Ma serannas, Solas."
The elven mage cautiously returned her smile as he stood to go. "You are welcome. Sleep well, Inquisitor."