Indomitable Focus
Ennaly's staff had been waiting for her when she returned to her hut. She didn't know who brought it there, but she was glad that she had it back again. Her ankle healed well over the next day, and she was glad to be able to run around again. The entirety of Haven and the encampments surrounding it were jittery with anticipation. The mages would arrive soon, and with them, the breach would be closed. And with the breach closed, there would be the first step to a normal life again.
Closing the breach.
It sounded so easy, but being the one who needed to perform that task, was not easy. Ennaly needed to remain in good spirits, and felt responsible to have an outwards confidence. And being the Herald, she felt another responsibility to go around and be seen. Josephine said she had a positive influence on the people at Haven, or at least on most.
So, there she went. She chatted with civilians, hosted a snowman building competition, was present at one of Cullen's soldier training and assisted Josephine with answering letters that requested a personal message from her.
The night before the mages would arrive, Ennaly retreated back to her own hut. She'd had enough of people bowing to her, or giving her scolding looks of disapproval. She was on her bed, her hair loose, looking at the shimmering mark on her hand. She hadn't bothered to turn on a fire, so it was quite dark, with just her mark giving off a flickering green light.
What if she failed?
She was rudely torn from her contemplations when the door got thrown open and a servant girl walked in.
"O pardon me, milady," the Elven girl said, and seemed so shocked she almost dropped the pile of laundry she was holding.
"I – I am sorry," Ennaly replied, in equal shock.
The girl quickly put the stack on pile of boxes and bowed down.
"I thought you were elsewhere, milady, otherwise I would never…"
"It is okay," Ennaly said, a smile on her face and trying to sound as friendly as possible. She made a gesture with her hand that lit a nearby candle to shine some light in the room. This seemed to shock the girl even more, and for a moment, she seemed paralyzed, not knowing what to do.
"What is your name?" Ennaly asked kindly.
"It is Nemi, milady," she girl replied.
"Well then, thank you, Nemi," Ennaly said, nodding to the fresh pile of laundry.
"Of – of course, Milady," Nemi said, and started to turn around to leave. This gave Ennaly an idea.
"Wait, Nemi," she began, which made the girl halt. "Do you know Solas, the Elven mage that has a hut near the apothecary?" The girl nodded. "If – if he is there, could you ask him to come here? Tell him… I'd like a favour from him."
Nemi nodded in understanding, and when Ennaly didn't continue, bowed down her head and left, with a hurried "Thank you!" from Ennaly.
Ennaly lit her fireplace and paces around the room, feeling more burdened by expectations with every step she took.
Finally, a knock on the door pulled her out of her contemplations.
"Ennaly?" Solas voice sounded. "I was..." He startled just a bit when Ennaly roughly pulled open the door. "…asked to see you. A favour?"
"Yes, thank you," Ennaly said, stepping aside to let him enter. She offered him the chair at the table and grabbed the chair near the desk for herself.
"You have been busy, these last few days," Solas commented. "I've seen you around camp, inspiring people, comforting people, entertaining people. That is an admirable thing to do."
"Keeping busy is a good distraction from what's about to come," she said, gesturing broadly upwards, indicating the Breach. "That's… why I asked you for a favour." She looked at the other Elf. "Knowledge, wisdom, guidance, anything to help out with the Breach. You seem to know things no one else knows. You've helped me close the very first rift I ever encountered."
"You closed that one yourself," Solas replied. "I merely held up your hand. Your will at that moment already wanted to close it, I simply help you show that the ability was already yours."
"But without you, I wouldn't have thought to do that!" she said. "I remember, when we first met, Varric said you kept the mark from killing me in my sleep. You must have learned something."
Solas chuckled. "Well, that was mostly Varric's over-exaggeration, to be truthful. It wasn't so much that the mark was killing you…" His voice trailed off, he seemed lost in remembrance for a moment. "You were a mystery. A mortal sent physically through the Fade? It seemed unlikely that you would ever awaken. Yet, I ran every test I could imagine, searched the Fade, yet found nothing. I was frustrated, frightened. The spirits I might have consulted had been driven away by the Breach.
I... made plans to flee, then told myself, one more attempt. I tried and failed. No ordinary magic would affect them. I watched the rifts expand and grow, resigned myself to flee, and then… You were there, awoken, you stood beside me, and I knew your mark must have something to do with it all, so I took your arm, and you… You closed that rift yourself, sealed it with a gesture. It seemed you were the key to our salvation."
It felt odd to think that he'd been sitting next to her in the dungeon, just studying her hand. She supposed the same could be said for Cassandra and Leliana.
"But how does this thing work?" Ennaly asked. "You must have some ideas, even if you couldn't prove it."
Solas seemed to appraise her for a bit, then gave in.
"I theorize that the mark was instrumental in the catastrophe that we witnessed at the conclave. Some spark much have come loose and latched itself upon you, being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Since the Breach seemed to be created in the same catastrophe, your mark was probably the only thing that could help stitch the rifts. You, the bearer, merely needed to will it enough. Luckily for all of us, you were a mage, meaning you've learned the ability the shape your will. It seems to have come naturally for you."
He gestured for her to hold out her hand. She did, palm up, he took it. His hands were comfortably warm. Intrigued, he observed the pulse of light, and ran a finger over her palm.
She gasped softly. The touch sent shivers through her body. It awoke a nervous spark in her stomach.
"I apologize," Solas said, and pulled his hand back. "Does it hurt?" He looked up at her face again. It surprised Ennaly to see an almost sorrowful look.
"Sometimes," Ennaly shrugged. "When we're near a rift, I can feel demons pulling on it, as if there's some sort of force connecting us. And the rifts themselves… It feels magnetic, almost, like they want to connect. Sometimes it feels like it's calling out to me, this mark, and I can't quite seem to figure out what it wants."
Solas' look was intense, like she had his full attention, and the spark of nervousness increased its flutter. She looked away.
"I suppose I should be glad I was there at the wrong place at the wrong time," she noted. "Considering the alternative, I mean. At least someone has this thing now. I didn't quite want this, but it proved quite useful.
"That it did," Solas agreed, and he relaxed a little, leaning back in his chair. "But I have to disappoint you, there is not much else I can tell you about the mark. You have already used it successfully from the start, closing rifts around Ferelden. There is no reason for you to worry about this next one."
It was unexpected, to have his confidence laid out like that. Yet, confidences weren't what she needed, there were already too many depending on her, he would just be one more to disappoint.
"What if it fails, this time?" she said, her voice almost a whisper, locking eyes again. "What if it fails and they'll execute me as a false prophet? I am an Elf, after all, and the majority of the people around us are Human. It won't just be a small group this time, there'll be hundreds of Mages and what feel like thousand eyes looking at me, expecting me to perform miracles, using their power…"
Solas contemplated, then leaned over again.
"We can practise," he suggested. "If that will help settle your mind."
"How?" Ennaly said, disbelieving. "There's no rift here."
"I am here. You can draw will from me and channel that through your mark."
He looked at her, serious, intense. She could see his eyes wander to her cheekbones again, to her Vallaslin, but there was no furrow on his brow, this time. Perhaps her words had made him realize his instinctive actions, and now he was able to actively suppress them.
"Will that work?" she asked, and seemed to pull Solas out of his reverie.
"Only if I allow it, and focus on doing so," he said, his face relaxed again. "Without additional power I cannot maintain that long, but long enough for you to try and get used to the feeling."
He took her hand with the mark on it, and laid it down on the table, palm up. It glowed softly.
Solas looked at her, resolution on his face.
"Focus on manifesting power, but instead of reaching within yourself, try reaching outward, to me. Gather whatever power you can, and funnel that through your mark."
They shared a glance, before Ennaly shifted her gaze to her palm, then closed her eyes.
It was as Solas said. Usually, Ennaly would normally focus deep within herself – she imagined a pit of dense, compacted energy at the pit of her stomach, pure will – but this time, she reached outwards. It felt unfamiliar at first, and she couldn't latch onto anything to focus on. Frustrated, she searched faster, reaching out, and then she found something. Her focus landed on a spark of energy. It felt familiar yet otherworldly. She could recognize it as Solas' and she could feel a smile forming on her lips.
Carefully, she tried to pull from it, its rhythm out of tune to hers. She waited for approval, and it seemed happy to submit. She could imagine two strands of energy, slowly harmonizing together, starting out as a soft melody. This she could understand, rhythm and time, it was like a dance.
She pulled harder on the strings with her will, turning the beat to a crescendo, the soft melody now a powerful roar. She tried to focus is back to her mark, and with a gasp –
Both opened their eyes, and they looked at the mark, humming with light and energy, blowing a soft wind through the hut. It pulled on her hair, teasingly, and scattered papers on a nearby surface. She dropped the focus and the wind fell still.
She was flustered and short of breath.
"That was amazing," she declared. She looked up. There was a soft fluster on his cheeks, too.
He smiled as he looked at her genuine happy expression of having just accomplished what she had. The intensity of his gaze washed over her, she couldn't understand the layers beneath it, taking her breath away.
Solas averted his gaze for a second, then looked back. He once again looked calm, comfortable. "I did not doubt your abilities," he spoke. "You've trained your will to control magic and withstand possession. Your indomitable focus is an enjoyable side benefit, and that will help you succeed with the Breach."
"Indomitable focus?" she repeated, surprised by this praise.
"Presumably," he responded, his voice almost suave. "I have yet to see it dominated. I imagine that the sight would be… fascinating."
Then, a knock on the door.
"Who - who is it?" Ennaly asked, trying to keep her voice steady.
"Your favourite mage!" exclaimed Dorian's voice from the other side of the door, before he opened it and entered. "Second most favourite," he added, when he saw Solas sitting at her table. "Ah, do – do I need to leave the two of you alone?"
His eyes were narrowed, appraising the scene. Ennaly could only imagine what it looked like to him. Both she and Solas were still flustered, her hair was frazzled and there was definitely some kind of tension in the air, if only the remnant from the magic.
"I was just helping our Herald practise with the Mark," Solas said, his tone pleasant. He nodded his head to her left hand, which still lay on the table, palm up, the mark glowing softly, as if that proved it.
"I think the training was successful. You have nothing to worry about," he said, looking at her. He raised. "I will take my leave, I think we could use some sleep."
"Thanks Solas," she said. "And sleep well."
He gave an approving nod to Dorian as he passed him when exiting the hut. Ennaly's eyes followed him as he left.
Dorian took place in the now-empty chair. He waited a moment to speak.
"So…" he said teasingly. "Are you going to talk about it, or do I need to fill in the blanks myself?"
Ennaly looked up to him, still flustered. "What?" she said, feigning ignorance.
"Don't tell me that was nothing," Dorian replied, an amused smile on his face. "I could practically taste the tension in the air when I walked in. Enjoying some broad Elven shoulders? I saw you looking."
"He just helped me with my mark, as he mentioned."
"Fine," Dorian sighed. "Keep your denial. I came here to see how you were holding up. Lots on your shoulders these days, all the expectations. Though, I still think I should have won the snowman competition."
"You cheated," she grinned. "Really, a life-sized halla, with those thin horns and legs? We all saw you using frost magic, Dorian. It was more an ice sculpture than a real snowman. A very pretty ice sculpture, of course," she added when she saw the look on Dorian's face. "But really, the boy won fair and square, he used his actual hands and hard work."
"Magic is hard work too," Dorian sulked, and the next hour they joked and laughed, and for a moment, there was no pressure and expectation to worry about.