Part Six: Ellana and Her Wolf
II
The first time she was taken on a hunt, she was still a child, Lavellan remembers. They had to learn early. They had to, if the clan was to survive. They may have had freedom (though she now wonders how free they truly were, bound by misunderstandings of the past), but they had few other luxuries. Hunting was a necessity.
Her first hunt, she saw a wolf, tall and grey and looming, but without a pack. It did not attack them, merely watched, and she felt no fear, only curiosity. She asked. They told her without a pack, the wolf would surely die.
"We can be his pack," she had offered, and the others had laughed.
"A wolf is no halla, child. You cannot make a companion of it," one of the younger hunters had said, as if to point out that he, he was much smarter than her even if he was barely older and had no right to call her child.
I can, she thought to herself. Later, noticing her mood and prying the story out of her, her Keeper told her that once, in the glory days of Halamshiral, there were elves who forged bonds with wolves, making companions of them. They would fight together, as one, and would always, always protect each other.
She listened with wide eyes, imagining it, promising herself that one day, one day she would be like the elves of old and claim a wolf companion, and they would protect each other always. Theirs would be an unbreakable bond. The others would marvel at it, perhaps even envy it a little. Ellana and her wolf, they would say, and no one would laugh. No one would dare.
Such a child's fantasy, she knows now. So simple. She was so young, and everything seemed simple then.
Still.
She did get her wolf companion - after a fashion.
II
Solas is gentle as he helps her dress, but not relaxed. She can feel the tension in him every time he touches her, even if the touches themselves are loving and tender. He even takes the time to kiss her when they're both fully dressed, caressing her cheeks as he does.
"Vhenan," he says, and his voice makes her shiver a little. "I told you that I would do what I must to keep you safe."
"I remember," she says, swallowing. As she would him, she reminds herself. She did just whisk him away from Cassandra to protect him, leaving all of her friends in the process.
"Two of my agents harmed you," he says, and the anger cannot mask the guilt also in his voice. "They were under explicit orders not to. I must make my displeasure clear. Deliberately harming you must be seen as the unforgiveable offense to me that it is. It will help discourage anyone who might consider similar actions towards you. Do you understand, vhenan?"
Her first instinct is to say no, but she knows that is a lie. She has killed to protect. She has seen others kill to protect her. She has allowed assassinations to protect the world, to protect her clan, telling herself if was for the greater good. Oh, she understands more than she likes to admit.
It's also not just about her life, as Cassandra would probably remind her. If she dies… If she dies, Solas will lose his heart. He is already burdened with so much grief and guilt that she cannot imagine what her death would do to him – or perhaps she simply doesn't want to. It would also mean she would have no opportunity to change his mind, to make him see the worth of this world, and if her death also meant his magic returned to him…
She closes her eyes; he kisses her eyelids very softly. "I understand it. I don't like it."
"I knew you wouldn't," he says. He sighs. "If am… lenient, it puts you at greater risk. They may also spread the word to others that you hold my magic. That would also put you at greater risk."
She swallows. "You can hear them out. Perhaps there is a way to…. Seem unforgiving but be merciful."
"Ellana…"
"Please," she says, opening her eyes to look at him. "Just…. Please consider it."
He meets her gaze, eyes like steel, but there is something soft there too – the softness that always seems there when he looks at her, that was there even in the early days in Haven.
"They will be allowed to explain themselves," he finally says, and she exhales. "Beyond that…. I must keep you safe, vhenan. Losing you would…"
He trails off. Perhaps he too, doesn't want to imagine it. Instead, he kisses her again, desperately this time, lifting her up to deepen it even further. The intensity of it is a reminder what she means to him, though in a different way than his earlier gentleness. This is love too; this fierce determination to protect her, the unwillingness to lose her.
"Ar lath ma, vhenan," he whispers, gently easing her down on her feet again. "Come."
Thevel is waiting for them outside. "They are waiting to report to me. As instructed, they have not been informed of your presence."
Solas nods. He takes her hand as they walk, and keeps holding it as they walk past various members of this particular camp. They all notice, she is pretty sure, as she suspects Solas wants them to. Perhaps he thinks not hiding his affection for her will help keep her safe.
The two agents who attacked her are just outside the camp itself, not so much kept under watch as kept a discreet eye on by a few sentinels. They look nervous, as if they realize something isn't quite right, but they clearly don't know what.
The moment they do see her, and Solas, they freeze. One of them fall instantly to his knees, the other, the one who attacked her first, looks as if he's considering fleeing. Thevel shifts his bow slightly, as if to make it clear what will happen if he tries, and he falls to his knees as well.
"Julianus. Pace," Solas says, voice quiet and angry. He lets go of her hand, putting both hands behind his back instead, a posture she recognizes all too well. "I believe you have met Ellana Lavellan."
They stare at her, horrified, and she feels a strange mixture of pity and anger. They did nearly kill her, she has not forgotten that. Yet, they seem rather pitiful like this, on their knees, eyes wide with fear.
"Explain," Solas orders. "Julianus."
Julianus swallows. He's the man who shot her, she remembers. "Lord Fen'Harel. As ordered, we infiltrated the Chantry and kept a low profile, ready to act on your command. A few days ago, we were ordered to accompany the Divine on a journey to a former Inquisition camp. It was only then we learned you had been captured, my lord. We were at once determined to free you."
"She captured you!" Pace interrupts, pointing a finger at her. "The whole camp was talking about it. She is your enemy as much as the Qunari, the Tevinter, the Chantry! She should be on her knees, begging for your mercy, not us!"
"She is my heart," Solas says, voice softening for just a moment before becoming all steel again. "She may not agree with my cause, but she was never my enemy and never will be."
They both stare at her, as if they can't quite believe it, can't quite fathom the Dread Wolf surrendering his heart. Thevel gives her a thoughtful glance as well, though more subtly.
"We didn't know!" Julianus gasps. "How could we?"
"You knew my orders," Solas says. He doesn't need his armor to look every inch a general now. "The Inquisitor and the Inquisition was to be left alone, engaged only as a last resort, and if engaged, deaths were not acceptable. Especially the Inquisitor's death. Even if you did not know why, you knew my orders."
"Under the circumstances…" Pace tries, and falters as Solas looks at him. "Does she matter more than restoring your world?!"
Solas closes his eyes for a moment. Does she, she wonders. She is his heart, yes, but is she stronger than his sense of duty?
"She would let the Chantry execute you!" Pace goes on, as if encouraged by the lack of answer. "The Divine had already begun to make plans for it."
"Lady Ellana personally freed Fen'Harel from the Chantry forces," Thevel says softly, and Ellana glances at him in surprise. He inclines his head, as if offering her respect. "At great personal risk."
Both men look confused. She can understand that. Capturing Solas to then free him again does sound rather confusing, and she isn't sure she could even explain it to them in a way that makes sense.
"We only tried to serve your cause…" Pace says, but Solas shakes his head.
"You care not for the Elvhen," he says. "You believed tearing down the Veil would grant you greater magic, greater power, and a greater life. I knew that when I recruited you. It mattered not to me, as I had use of you, but I was never blind to your ambition."
"I care!" Julianus cries out. "My wife and children would have a world that respected them, a world that would be theirs."
Oh. She thinks. He has married an elf? He has children? In secret, she guesses, judging by how taken aback Pace seems.
Solas regards him for a moment, then nods. "You are right. You do care. Ir abelas. I should not have spoken as if you two were one."
"I only fought Lady Ellana because Pace did, my lord," Julianus goes on, staring at her imploringly. "I did not know why he had attacked. I did not even know it was the Inquisitor he had attacked until later. I… I am truly sorry."
Pace glares at him, then at her, then at Solas. She can see him lick his lips, see the mounting desperation in his face, like a prey caught by a predator. She can feel… She can feel the magic even before the spell forms, and she knows, just knows it is meant for Solas.
No, she thinks, her body drumming with it. She lifts her hand, willing it to be a shield, be protection, and lights begins to stream out from it. Blinding, blinding light, stronger than iron.
"Vhenan…"
She hears Solas call out, strangely distant. She almost feels as if she is in two places at once – her body still in Thedas, but her mind in another world, one she can shape. It feels like the Fade, only she isn't dreaming.
She feels the spell hit her shield, feels the anger and rage of it, feels the will to kill in it. She won't let it kill. She won't let it harm. She protects. In her world, the wolf lives.
The spell bounces back. She hears the scream as it hits, as it tears into Pace, and for a moment, she feels nothing at all.
The magic quiets, and the strange sense of being two places at once fades. Instead, she feels sick, and she falls to her knees, emptying her stomach. Seconds later, Solas is there, kneeling down by her and gently rubbing her back.
"Get some water," she hears him say to Thevel. "Vhenan, are you all right?"
"No," she says. Her mouth tastes like bile. "He was trying to kill you."
"Yes," Solas says, kissing her temple. "He seems to have greatly enhanced his abilities since I recruited him. Lyrium, or red lyrium, perhaps."
"That would explain the penchant for violence," she mutters. She breathes, then forces herself to stand up, Solas supporting her. His eyes are worried, she notices, though his voice is light.
"You are becoming quite the mage, my love," he says, guiding her a few feet away. "We're going to have to have a long talk with Dorian about that."
"It wasn't supposed to work like this," she says, and Solas smiles softly.
"And you weren't supposed to survive being sent physically through the Fade. You weren't supposed to be able to hold and use the Anchor," he says, cupping her cheek. "You and Dorian forgot one thing when you made your plans, just as I forgot when I made mine. We all forgot that you, you change everything. How can anyone plan for what you are?"
"Lady Ellana," Thevel says, and she sees him holding out a pitcher of water. She takes a few sips, glancing over to see Julianus still kneeling, eyes downcast.
"Solas," she says, and Solas sighs as he notices her gaze. "He didn't attack me first. He has a family. Please."
"I will let him live," he says, nodding at Thevel, giving some sort of wordless order. "We will find a suitable task for him to serve as penance for joining in on the attack. What occurred should be more than ample deterrent for anyone considering attacking you – or me, for that matter."
Her gaze slides towards where Pace was, but Solas stops her, gently framing her head in his hands and making him look at him instead. "You protected me, vhenan."
A wolf is no halla, she thinks painfully, remembering – but she chose him. She chose him before she knew who he was, and she chose him again fully knowing. It will never be simple, but she has made her choice, and she will protect him. (Even from himself.)
"I chose you," she says, and feels tears prick her eyes. "Ma fen. My wolf."
"Ma vhenan," he replies, pressing his forehead against hers and embracing her; Ellana and her wolf, and no one is laughing.
