Fen'Harel Enansal

by FadeKiss

A/N: MASSIVE, MASSIVE SPOILERS! THIS STORY DETAILS MY COMPLETE PLAYTHROUGH OF DRAGON AGE INQUISITION!

This is the story of my Lavellan, Enansal/Esviya, as told through different perspectives within the Inquisition- and how her choices and personality led her to her romance with Solas. Solas x Lavellan.

This is a story about my play through of the game/romance- the way I roleplayed my Inquisitor, my guesses about what happened and my speculations that may tie things together better. But I, of course, know nothing about the truth, and do not wish to spoil what was already written for the game. Dragon Age Inquisition, (and the characters used in this piece) is owned by BioWare (except for the story that Solas tells to Lavellan in Chapter 7- that is mine). Much 3 to my best friend, Mew, for helping me to edit this story!

Prologue

Lies by Omission

I am old. These eyes have seen a great many things. This tongue has directed many travelers toward - and away from - power. I have seen the tide of power shift many, many times. Most times, those who seek power ultimately seek the ability to condemn; to solve and shut away their problems by force. They earn that power through deception, manipulations of the tongue and body.

It takes a rare wisdom of the heart and spirit to seek power to correct mistakes through acts of humility and service, rather than make them disappear by force. There is no word for 'forgiveness' in the Elven language. It is quite telling. Instead, the wounded party is addressed with a phrase along the lines of 'Ir abelas', 'My sorrow', referring to regret surrounding the actions or words that have been carried out to wound them. Instead of relinquishing them of blame through forgiveness, the elves pass sorrow and pain to and from each other, cutting themselves down through shared anguish and shame. It is ingrained in the culture. Of all the forms of slavery that exist, the inability to express forgiveness is truly the cruelest.

Pain is a primal evolutionary trait, an ancient concept meant to guide all those who can feel, away from actions that may further harm them in the end. A shield from (unnecessary) suffering, if you will. Personal pain, the consequences of our immediate actions, helps us to grow effectively. If allowed time to reflect and feel remorse, the pain will subside and the damaged tissue will repair itself. It is also meant to serve as a stark differentiation from pleasure.

But it seems a popular notion in all cultures: create and subdue your enemies through the abuse of their pain—by making them aware of their mistakes, and not forgiving. Twist their pain and remorse to your own end, to further your agenda. Pain is a currency, in it's own way, as those who master the pain of others have the ability to control them, to offer a false means of removing that pain, hope of relief and forgiveness.

Everyone errs. It is woven into the fabric of life. Holding pain over a person, instead of letting them redeem themselves, giving mercy and forgiveness, creates resentment and shame. It is only natural to want to avoid being shamed. And so lies are created to bridge the gap formed by the actions that caused this pain. This leads to pride, to recklessness, which in turn creates more pain. The cycle is perpetual, and not easily broken.

There is another kind of lie, however, a more sinister form of deception, which is not often addressed and often overlooked. That is the art of half- truths, lies by omission. A deft tongue can excuse itself from any situation with enough incriminating detail removed.

It leaves a painless mark on their victim, excuses them from dealing pain, making the wrong-doing unrecognizable. It leaves the foundation of any actions based in truth on unsteady ground. Scars, though ugly and marring to some, are reminders, visual cues. They are meant to prevent that same kind of wound from occurring in the future.

But I am assuming your ignorance. I apologize. I am speaking mostly from a place of regret because of my nature. I do not mean to lecture. This is the first time I have expressed this pain outside of myself. Given my speech, I'm sure you can understand why…

I still do not completely understand my circumstances, and am struggling to do so. For the moment, all I truly know is that my recklessness endangered the world needlessly. I am a fool, and I hurt many I cared for…

Enansal

I am called Enansal. In clan Lavellan I serve as first to the Keeper, the leader of the Dalish Elves in the Free Marches of Thedas.

In my language, my name refers to a 'gift' or a 'blessing'. A cliché, I am sure—especially if it were to next be told that I managed to pull the world from the brink of utter chaos. Many who have children consider them a blessing in their lives. Thus, I do not equate my name or it's meaning in any way with divinity; nor do I equate my actions with an invisible, guiding hand. Though those who would tell my story might do so in my stead— for dramatic effect, I would guess.

My clan had an unusually close relationship with humans, though mostly, our dealings were through trade. While I've experienced intolerance of my people, I have tried very hard not to let this particular ignorance turn me hateful. Retaliating is a poor strategy, as it often leads to an exchange of defensive strikes that, in the end, wound everyone and solve nothing.

That much could be seen in the conflict that raged between the mages and Templars. Open war broke out about a year earlier, prompted by an act of rebellion by a fanatical mage, who was driven mad by the Chantry's oppression of magic users.

Word of the terror he caused spread like wildfire, and opened up a window for their retaliation. Their war was ravaging Thedas. It was a source of great worry, and even greater sorrow for those who witnessed it. As a user of magic, myself, I was very wary of the movements of these two groups. I kept my guard up, and my usage of my talents to a minimum.

Just when it seemed that the fighting was at it's worst, an olive branch was extended to both sides by the very organization that had set the stage for conflict in the first place. Much of the talk about this upcoming gathering seemed to hold a cynical edge. Some called the Chantry 'hypocritical', or worse.

But when the news got to me, I wondered if perhaps the Chantry was finally attempting to right a very grievous wrong they had perpetrated long ago. Personally, I was almost hopeful. My close friend, Aeony, and I discussed finding a way to attend the Conclave as members of the congregation.

My keeper was sensitive to the tides of this conflict. Before Aeony and I could make plans, she tasked me with attending the conclave as a spy and informant to the Lavellan Clan, alone. A high honor, indeed. Very rarely does she find it necessary to involve herself in human affairs. I refrain from using the diminutive insult, popular in my tongue, 'shemlen'. Disparaging all humans condemns those who seek to carry out good to the same fate as those who wish to impart madness. I know there are shades of grey, in all races and cultures.

I wish more people were of the same mind.

But in a setting like Thedas, where the majority of its inhabitants hold some connection to a Maker, a creator… it is nearly impossible to find that kind of acceptance. Much of the dogma surrounds the existence of the Fade, an invisible magical barrier that separates the world from the land of Dreams. The Fade is home to spirits, and dreamers, and demons. It is as fascinating as it is treacherous.

I am sensitive to both—the Elvhen Pantheon, and the Maker. I am still not quite sure why. I would have thought that growing up in a Dalish clan would have precluded all interest or knowledge in Andrastian religion. Many Dalish are introverted, stubborn, prideful even. But my wandering mind felt it wrong to not explore other beliefs. In most cases, I would prefer not to be asked about my beliefs. There is a sense of betrayal on both sides, no matter what I believe, both within or out loud. And the whole concept of religion- it's entire purpose, is to deem those beliefs 'good' or 'bad'. Really it's just shorthand for 'who is the most easily hated?' or 'who is the most inferior?'

In all honesty, I hold neither so sacred. History, culture, and lore surrounding these beliefs are much more important to me. For everything that is written on the ancients, all the apocryphal tales that have circulated throughout the ages, there must be some truth behind them which led to their present day survival. Granted, every fact casts a different shadow depending on the angle of the light, causing reflections like a many-faceted gem. There is not unanimous agreement on any front, even among the most stringent and devout believers. Stories are told and retold with details added or missing, to fit the context of their telling. The additional notion of the Fade adds a dimension of murkiness and confusion to an already uncertain past, and leaves plenty of room for interpretation, and scapegoating.

I expect my story to be treated no differently in the years to come.