Ellana awoke with a start. She could have sworn that she'd heard somebody in her room. A quick look around told her otherwise. The multicolored rays of the sunrise shone through the tall windows in her bedroom. It was dawn. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and found them puffy and crusted with salt. She must have been crying in her sleep again. She threw the covers off and swung her feet onto the cold, stone floor. Grabbing the book from her bed, she headed down to join the rest of the world.
As she entered the kitchen, the cook turned and curtseyed to her.
"Andaran atish'an Lady Inquisitor," she said.
"How many times must I tell you? You need not be so formal with me da'len," Ellana replied.
The small elven girl pressed a mug of hot tea into her hands, as she did every morning. Ellana looked down at the warm brown liquid and a small smile turned the corners of her mouth. Solas hated tea. Once she saw him drink it, and the face he pulled was one she would not soon forget. The thought made her laugh.
"Ma serannas," she said to the girl as she left the kitchen. She walked to the rotunda and gently placed the book back onto the table. A few of the other books had gathered a thin layer of dust on their leather covers. Ellana gently wiped them off with her sleeve. Unwilling to linger in the room, she opted to take a walk on the battlements.
As she stepped out of the door, the brisk morning air chilled her skin. She gripped her cup tightly in an attempt to warm her hands. The sun was higher in the sky now, the colors dissipating to clear blue. The mountains were bathed in a golden light. As much as she missed the warm forests, Ellana could not deny the mountains' beauty.
"Inquisitor, you're up early,"
The voice so startled her that she spilled tea down her front. She had assumed most of the keep would still be asleep. She looked up to see Commander Cullen stifling a laugh.
"I am so sorry my lady," he said. "I did not mean to frighten you."
He pulled a handkerchief from somewhere within his armor and handed it to her. She set her tea cup on the stone wall and tried to mop the tea off of her shirt.
"What's all this 'my lady' business? Cullen, we stopped the destruction of the world together. Just call me by name," she replied.
"Force of habit. Not to mention I'm relatively sure Josephine might shiv me with her pen if she caught me being informal."
"Well Josephine can take that up with me. I detest people treating me like I'm some deity or something. Especially my friends"
Cullen chuckled. Shortly after Ellana had joined the Inquisition he'd said a similar thing to her for calling him "Commander." The wind stirred his hair, the morning sun turning the curls perfect gold. Dorian frequently tried to set her up with Cullen. Admittedly, he was handsome. He had been a good friend and advisor to her, and there were times that she had considered it. But no. Her heart belonged to Solas. In another life perhaps, but not this one.
"I had hoped I would find you this morning. Rumor has it Varric and Dorian upset you last night," a look of concern crossed his face. "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine. They mean well, but they come on a bit strong at times."
He looked her in the eye and she had no doubt that he saw through her facade. She hadn't been fine for a long time, and he knew it. He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture he often did when he felt uncomfortable. For all his kindness, Cullen never could figure out how to handle delicate topics.
"Inquisitor, Ellana, I mean," he began, "I know that things have not been easy on you as of late. Between trying to set the world straight, the constant parade of nobles, and Solas leaving of course, I'm amazed you've managed to keep your sanity. We worry about you, all of us, and while Dorian and Varric don't always go about showing it properly, we all want what's best for you. So tell me the truth. Are you alright?"
She sighed and stared out into the mountains.
"No, not really," she replied. "I'm trying to be, but it's difficult. All these people think that I'm invincible, so I have to put on this show all the time and act like everything is fine. But it's not fine. And then everyone saying that Solas is never coming back… It's just not something I can accept."
"I understand," Cullen said. "I can't claim to know why Solas left or if he's coming back. But I will say this; I think he really genuinely loves you. You brought out a side of him that I never thought existed. I hope, for your sake, that he does come back. He would be a fool not to."
"I hope you're right," she said, her voice breaking slightly.
"You're not alone," he said as he pulled her into a friendly hug. "Do not forget that."
"Thank you, Cullen," she sniffed.
With one last concerned look, Cullen turned and walked back to his office, leaving her to her thoughts.
A gentle breeze ruffled his pure white fur, carrying with it scents of leaves, dirt, herbs, and all the wonderful things of the forest. He sniffed, enjoying his heightened sense of smell. It had been a long time since Solas had been able to take wolf form. With his power returning, he was gradually able to resume being who he was before his long slumber. Whether or not this was a good thing, he had yet to decide.
Immediately after departing Skyhold that morning, the Dread Wolf had sensed something wrong. He had absorbed Mythal's essence, had he not? So why could he sense her? And in the long abandoned ruins of his old village no less. This was no coincidence. Somehow, Mythal had tricked him. Yet the elves had named him the trickster god. He smirked at the thought.
Solas padded through the ruins, his claws clicking against the ancient stones. He pressed his nose to the ground, searching for the source of this mystery. Though he could sense Mythal, he could not smell Flemeth. In fact, he thought he smelled—
"Did you think I would not notice you in your wolf form, Fen'Harel?"
A low growl rose from his throat.
"Morrigan," Solas snarled as he returned to his elven form. "What is the meaning of this?"
"Tis foolish to ask questions which one already knows the answer to," she replied.
"I should have known," he said. "Your mother gave me the power of the old god she ripped from your son and passed Mythal's spirit through the Eluvian to you. What I do not understand is why. Is your petty revenge fantasy really more important than restoring our people?"
"You would feel the same if you had been the one who was murdered, Dread Wolf," she said calmly. "He cannot be allowed to get away with this."
"Please old friend," he pleaded. "Your vengeance will destroy this world. Instead, help me set it right. Help me restore the elvhen to their former glory. Look how they wander the woods, proudly bearing slave markings and adhering to misremembered history. Is this truly what you wish for them?"
"That is your doing, my friend, not mine," Morrigan shook her head sadly. "No, justice must be done."
"I will not allow your plan to succeed. If you will not help me, so be it. The people need me, and I will not fail them again," he declared.
"So it has come to this? The two of us at odds with each other after all these years?" Morrigan sighed.
"I'm afraid so. Goodbye All-Mother," Solas said sadly. He returned to wolf form and ran off into the forest.
The nobles had been at it for hours. The hall at Skyhold was full to bursting with the highest ranking members of society from all over Fereldan and Orlais. There was much damaged caused by Corypheus's treachery and each noble seemed to think that they needed more aid than the rest. The Inquisition had done much to stabilize the land, but it was not all powerful. Though many of the nobles would feel otherwise.
Ellana sat in her chair at the head of the table, her chin resting on one hand and a pen twirling idly in the other. Josephine tried desperately to calm the nobles. Empress Celene angrily fluttered an ornate lace fan while muttering to Gaspard and Briala. King Alistair doodled absentmindedly on a bit of paper. For being such an important gathering, the only people who seemed to take it seriously were the ones not in charge of the proceedings. The Inquisitor met eyes with Cassandra who had taken a place leaning against the wall. The Seeker rolled her eyes. She never did have the patience for diplomacy. Cullen was in the seat in front of her, exasperatedly pinching the bridge of his nose. Reluctantly, Ellana stood up.
"Alright that's enough!" she shouted. "Sitting here squabbling isn't going to solve any of these problems! Look, I know you've all had damage to your lands. Trust me, we've all had damage. But the Inquisition cannot solve all of this and neither can your rulers. The world nearly ended people! Be glad that you're alive! We've closed every rift. We've sealed the holes where darkspawn were emerging. The Venatori completely disbanded after Corypheus's defeat. Nearly all of the refugees have been given the supplies that they need. We're doing all we can to rebuild, but we cannot fix everything. You will have to do some of this yourselves."
"But Inquisitor—"
"No. No more. You will continue receiving the aid we have been providing, but we cannot give anymore. We are at our limit. I call this meeting dismissed."
The mass of grumbling nobles gradually dispersed. King Alistair, clearly not paying attention, was still doodling on his bit of paper. Ellana approached him.
"Your Majesty? The meeting is over," she said.
"I know," he replied, "but look at this masterpiece!"
He proudly held up the scrap of paper. On it was a drawing of the Inquisitor chasing the nobles around with her glowing hand while Josephine came after her with a pen. He had drawn himself crawling under the table and tripping the nobles as they ran by.
"Good right? I should have become an artist instead of a Grey Warden," the King said.
Ellana could not help but laugh. The drawing ended up being passed around and soon every advisor of the Inquisition was doubled over with uproarious laughter.
"Look," he said, "for what it's worth, I think you're doing a great job. These petty nobles just don't know how to get out there and fix anything themselves so they'll whine and whine until someone else does it for them. A good effort though. If you hear from my wife, please tell her to come home. She's been chasing a cure for the Calling for long enough."
"Thank you your majesty, I will," she bowed.
Eager to get some fresh air, Ellana hurriedly left.