Solas tries to tell himself that it is
nostalgia that leads him to the place they found Commander Rutherford two weeks ago.
Washed ashore after the storm, babbling about a strange woman and a song, his eyes glazed over from more than hunger, his face flushed from more than exposure.
They carried him away, the physician soothing him as best he could, but Solas lingered, then; casting his gaze over his shoulder to the push and pull of the tide. His bare toes
beyond its reach—feeling the movement of the water in his bones all the same.
He is the only one who saw the footprints—the heavy push of a heel digging into the sand, water rushing into the only scars in a wide stretch of unmarked beach. Leading back out to sea.
The Commander’s deliriousness wore off after a few days, after a few solid meals and plenty of water and shade. “I remember...
a woman?” Solas overheard him say when they allowed him to leave his room. Confiding in the Ambassador in the library, its windows open to the ocean air.
Solas had been enjoying the breeze, even his gaze turned away from the book in his hands to the glitter of late afternoon sun on the water.
Read the rest via the link in the description!