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Aline Thorne once accused both Aldric and Loghain of talking about Solona Amell like she was the Maker’s Anointed. Loghain scoffed and rattled off a list of her flaws in response. Aldric just laughed, because he heard how Loghain talked about King Maric, too.
Years ago, when her absence was still meant to be temporary, and the Calling echoed in everyone’s ears like a dirge, and Aldric returned to his homeland for the first time in eight years at his old mentor’s behest, Loghain all but pleaded with him to see reason. And in the heat of the fight…
“You think I like the idea of being some demon’s breakfast?” Aldric shouted, “Clarel’s plan is — I know, it’s horrific. But we’re not going to scrap it just because you think it’s too risky.”
“Maker’s breath, man, that’s not what I said. I’m asking you to stop and think for one second before you run off and kill yourself!”
“We are already dying, Loghain. We can’t afford to wait. There’s every chance we’ll be the last Grey Wardens in history. Now, I swore an oath to protect the world from the Blight no matter what, and if this is what it takes — ”
Loghain huffed and threw his hands in the air like he always did when he dismissed an argument as a lost cause, and something inside Aldric snapped. He hit back with the worst accusation he could think of.
“Hard sacrifices are what the Grey Wardens are built on,” he said. “Solona thought you understood what that meant better than anyone. I wonder what she’d think of you now?”
He knew it was a mistake as soon as the words left his mouth.
That night, when Aldric relayed Loghain’s reservations to her, Warden-Commander Clarel gave the order for Loghain to be arrested. Aldric delayed the Wardens she sent to enforce it just long enough for Loghain to flee Montsimmard. After that, Clarel didn’t trust Aldric enough to introduce him to Magister Erimond until the ritual had already begun, and Aldric wouldn’t have trusted Erimond even if she had.
Years afterward, when Solona’s title had long since passed down to someone else, and new recruits like Aline only knew Adamant Fortress as a cautionary tale, and Aldric had taken to his new role as Loghain’s Warden-Lieutenant as though he’d never left Orlais, Aldric still talked about Solona in the present tense. With the other Wardens present, Loghain tried not to comment on it. But, alone, with no one else to hear him say it…
“Solona is dead.”
Aldric recoiled, too shocked by the harshness in Loghain’s voice to remember what they were meant to be discussing.
“Don’t say that,” Aldric whispered.
“Aldric, no one has ever crossed the Volca Sea and lived to return. It’s been years since even the bard lost contact with her. Face it,” Loghain said, bitterness clouding every word, “she’s dead. She isn’t coming back.”
Aldric was shaking his head, his lips forming the word ‘no’ before he knew they were moving. “I’ve watched her carve her way through a whole thaig full of darkspawn single-handed — ”
“And I’ve watched her kill an Old God single-handed,” Loghain echoed.
“ — If anyone could survive all this time, out there on her own, it’s Solona,” Aldric finished, raising his voice above Lohgain’s.
He waited for a response… and got nothing. Just those icy blue eyes boring into him in silent assessment. Whether they held judgment or — worse, coming from Loghain — pity, Aldric couldn’t tell.
Eventually, Loghain just sighed and said, “You don’t want to do this to yourself.”
Pity, then. Aldric scowled, heat rising in his face. He bit down on the skin of his cheek to keep from saying the first thing that came to his mind.
“That isn’t — I can’t just give up on — ” He shook his head and tried again. “I’m not naive, alright? I know it’s a long shot, but I have to hold onto hope. Without it… well… Maybe that’s the difference between you and me.”
Loghain remained silent again for a long time. Finally, bracing himself for a fight, Aldric looked up, but instead of anger or betrayal in Loghain’s eyes, he was met with the same bitter weariness — a weariness that reminded him Loghain was approaching seventy now — as before.
“You’re right,” Loghain said, with the kind of rueful look that had more in common with a grimace than a smirk. “The difference is that I know exactly how dangerous that kind of hope can be. And it is a mistake I won’t make twice.”
It wasn’t judgment or pity. It was Loghain suddenly remembering that he’d said almost those exact same words to Anora to try to justify bankrupting the nation in his search for a certain other Fereldan hero who disappeared (but didn’t, in fact, actually die) at sea.
"If anyone could survive all this time, out there on her own..."
If anyone could survive anything, it would be Maric. But (to Loghain’s knowledge) he didn’t, so Solona can’t. Because Solona may haunt the narrative while she's still alive, but Maric has haunted it since before she was even born.