Note: translations (thank you Dragon Age Wiki) are at the bottom.
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Ashrielle Lavellan moved with ethereal grace on the battlefield. The staff, an extension of self, concentrated her efforts. A line in her mind's eye focussed with a slash of her staff blade. Feeling the power build within she raised a hand, shaking under the weight of power, but she brought the Wall of Fire to life, choking off incoming enemies. Screams hit her ears as they tried to cross it. A satisfied smile curved her lips.
The ebb and flow of magic tingled along her skin, mana regenerating in the heat of battle. Energy swirled within her, rising like a violent tide, she swung her staff as power hit its peak lightning crackled as it arched from one enemy to another. Sweat beaded on the back of her neck as she found herself side by side with Solas. The Red Templar with its impressive armour and intimidating size came closer, sword and shield in hand. Solas pulled up a barrier for them just as the Templar swung. Ashrielle brought the storm, while Solas hit him with a Mind Blast.
The Wall of Fire fizzled out, and more Red Templars were upon them. Upon Bull. The big Qunari fell, and her heart clenched painfully. "Bull!" she screamed. The world around her collapsed to the pinprick of vision where she could still see where he'd fallen. The sounds of the fight died and all she could hear was the strange echoing woomp-woomp that might have been her heartbeat in her ears. Knees shook, but she felt detached from her entire body. She couldn't breathe through the fear.
"Focus, Da'len!" Solas snapped at her, using Stone Fist to knock back an enemy before it could slash her. He grabbed her arm, for such delicate features, he had an impossibly strong grip as he gave her a quick shake. "Ashrielle!"
Blind panic dug its nails in her soft heart. "Bull's hurt."
Solas's hand loosened. "Then finish this!"
Every instinct told her to run to Bull, but she listened to Solas, returning her focus to battle. The only way she could focus on helping Bull was to eliminate their enemies. She walked steadily into battle, first thing she did was to put up a barrier around Cole- not an easy task considering how quickly he moved and dipped in and out of shadows. Spirit magic wasn't her specialty, and the barrier wouldn't be as strong, nor hold as long as Solas's, but she did what she could.
During her time studying with the Keeper, she'd dipped her toes into all types of magic, but the Storm was where she found her mastery. She thought of the storm, of dark clouds rumbling violently with warning. She felt for it, dug it from every part of her body, little blue streaks of lightning arched from fingertip to fingertip. The Staff head crackled at the build of power, and it shook through the grip, down to the blade.
A Red Templar charged, and she let loose. She channelled the violence, the unpredictability, and even the beauty of storms. She moved like a dancer; agile, fluid, nimble. With each motion energy built and was expended, she dealt damage and dodged blows.
Cole appeared next to her, blades slashing in a violent assault, and disappears into smoke, leaving a bleeding man to crumple to the ground. Solas's Veilstrike gave them a momentary pause on the field. Ashrielle couldn't help but look over at Bull. He hadn't moved.
"Dazed dread. Terror's talons tear. Is he okay? He has to be okay!" Cole stared at her from under his wide brimmed hat. "Unconscious. Not dead."
The 'talons' as Cole described loosened its grip on her heart, and she felt she could take a full breath again. Red Templars were struggling to get to their feet but she took a quick moment to put her hand on Cole's shoulder. "Thank you. You helped."
"I know," he said, and disappeared back into the smoke only to reappear on the other side of the Templars and dove both blades into weak points in the armour.
Knowing that the quicker she ended this battle, the sooner she could check on Bull, she launched back into the skirmish with vigour. Solas scorched the earth with blazing fire as easily as he pulled energy from the fade to launch at enemies. Cole's deadly daggers dug deep, leaving boneless bodies to bleed. Ashrielle flowed with the ebbs of her magic, slowing down as her mana drained.
A shield slammed into her back, knocking her to the ground, the air leaving her lungs with a 'whoosh.' Her staff slipped from her hands and tumbled down the knoll. Her hands raised defensively on instinct, the pale white-blue barrier flared. As the sword hit it, her pathetic barrier collapsed on itself. Adrenaline and fear coursed through her veins, this would be the battle to end her life? Not Corypheus, but by the blade of some generic baddie on a routine quest? The mark on her hand flared in reaction to her fear as the sword swung down.
The sword 'tinged' as it became trapped in the 'V' of the twin blades. Cole pushed the sword to the side in one movement, and followed it up with shoving his dagger between the helm and the gorget. The Red Templar gurgled, blood trickled down the armour, rivulets obstructed by spikes of red lyrium. He fell to his knees, and Ashrielle quickly scooted back as he fell forward.
"Vehement, violent, vicious. Cut her open. Watch her bleed." Cole gave a cursory look around before he tucked away a blade and extended a hand to her. "He had to die."
"Emma eth," she whispered to herself, feeling her torso in shock. "I am safe," she repeated, looking over her body to find no great gushing wounds. On impulse, something she frequently gave into, she launched herself at Cole, hugging him tightly. "My enansal! Ma serannas. Oh sweet elgar. I am so lucky to call you ma falon." Her hands gripped his bony shoulders and she stood her arm's length away from him. "Are you okay?
"Relief rushes, gracious and gleeful." He nodded, a slight flush on his typically pale cheeks. "Big emotions make you mix up your words. It's okay. I understand."
Turning to Solas, she found him uninjured. The man passed her staff. He turned and started walking across the battlefield. On the other side, she saw the Iron Bull.
"Wants to run, legs weak, knees shaking, energy expended. I need to be with him. I'm afraid." With one hand between her shoulder blades, he pushed her forward a step. It was exactly what she needed.
That one step prompted her feet back into action. She sprinted, jumping over bodies, passing Solas, navigating the uneven rocky and snow covered battlefield. She slipped on ice, spine bending too far back as she tried to compensate for the loss of balance. Her left foot sliding back to regain her equilibrium, but not before her back cramped. She ignored the spike of pain as she started off again. "Bull!" she shouted, dropping her staff as she fell to her knees. "Bull, can you hear me?" Her hands pressed against his chest, comforted by the warmth. "Ma lath." She patted her hand against his face, but still, he did not stir. She turned, eyes seeking the other elf. "Solas, please halani!" Sniffling, she grabbed Bull's hand, squeezing it tight. "Help him, please."
Solas knelt beside her. "Calm yourself, Da'len." At first, being called 'little child' by the elf had felt insulting, especially considering the weight of the Inquisition was carried upon her slight shoulders. Over time, she took it for what it was, a sign of fatherly affection. He rubbed his hands together, magic with the appearance of fog slipped between fingertips, wisps swirled around and around until his hands and wrists were covered. Placing them on either side of Bull's head, he closed his eyes, focusing his energy.
Ashrielle wished she had some talent in that particular spectrum. The one time she tried to heal a minor wound on a friend, she ended up nearly electrocuting him instead. The Keeper made the wise decision to ban her from ever attempting again. She had tried to made up for her lack of Spirit magic expertise by studying herbalism, however, poultices, tinctures, and potions might as well have been poisonous tonics. Ultimately, she just stuck with what she did best, frying everything on a battlefield.
Feeling useless, she squeezed Bull's hand again. "Garas back to me, my love. Come back to me, ma lath," she blathered, kissing fingertips, willing him to rejoin her.
"Pick a language, Ashrielle," Bull muttered. "Gives me a headache trying to figure out-"
"Bull!" She shrieked, cutting him off. "How do you feel? Are you okay?" As he moved to sit up, she firmly placed her hands on his shoulders. "Hamin, Bull, hamin!"
He groaned. "What does that even mean?"
"Relax," Solas said softly, and though he answered Bull's question, he stared at Ashrielle. "Relax," he repeated. "He will be fine." From his belt, he pulled out a health potion, and held it over Bull's nose. "Drink this, it'll help with any residual pain."
Bull grabbed the potion, his eyes turning on Ashrielle. "You going to let me up, Asaaranda?" She sat back, her bottom resting on her heels. She stared at him, unblinking. He sat up, tossed back the shot, and made a face at the taste. Glancing back at her, he gave a small smirk before he gave her a push, and she fell back onto her butt.
Her hands shot out to keep her from falling all the way back. "Hey!"
"Stop looking at me like I'm already dead," Bull ordered. "Ham-in," he said the foreign word slowly.
She bit her bottom lip to keep from laughing at the way he butchered the pronunciation. It delighted her that he took interest in her culture, that he tried to please her by learning little words and phrases. "Hah-meen," she emphasized. For her, he repeated it properly, and she smiled. "Can you stand?"
He dragged himself to his feet, glanced around until he spotted his great double-headed axe in the snow. "Ready to go when you are, Boss."
The four of them started off again, and while she kept her eyes on Bull, she walked beside Solas. "Ma serannas, Solas." She sprung, hugging him from the side. He didn't expect it and they stumbled slightly. He let out a rare laugh, one arm wrapping around her affectionately. "A thousand times my thanks!"
"I am here to help, Da'len," Solas said in the same sage way he said everything else.
She kissed his cheek and released him. "Well, I'm glad you are."
"Heart full of love. These people, my family. Not blood, but family." Cole turned to her, a small smile gracing his lips. "I like that."
She skipped up to where he stood, and slung an arm over his shoulders. "Me too."
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Elvish:
Da'len- little child
Enansal- blessing (/or gift)
Ma serannas- my thanks
Elgar- sprit
Ma falon- my friend
Ma lath- my love
Halani- help
Garas- come
Qunlat:
Asaaranda- thunderstorm