When the conversation area was created, Anarel returned to them to come and fetch Ennaly. He observed them all. "I can consider that Elf your First, but I am not talking to a shemlen or brute. They won't understand us anyway."
Ennaly eyed her companions. She'd rather they stay near, but she also knew that when Keepers conferred, it would be just between them and their Firsts.
"You can consider me her First," Solas said, stepping forward.
Now, she knew for certain that thought would stay in her mind a while. She wasn't quite sure if she was happy with this arrangement, but she understood that neither Dorian not Bull could attend this. She had to swallow her personal preferences and act like the Inquisitor now. If Solas could do this against his wishes, she certainly should.
"We'll be back soon," she said to Dorian and Bull, who seemed like they wanted to disagree, but also weren't in a position to do so. They nodded and she and Solas followed Anarel to the little clearing where the Elves had placed cushioned benches and an array of refreshments. She knew Bull at least would keep his trained Benn-Hassreth eye on them as much as he could, and Dorian was perhaps able to charm some into polite conversation. They did know the common language after all, it was just that Anarel was too proud to speak it.
She and Solas sat down on one of the benches, while Anarel sat down on the opposite one. Lamaira remained standing behind Anarel and seemed more an accessory than an official participant, being much younger than all of them and clearly uncomfortable. She was eying Solas with interest. She probably hadn't seen many adult Elves without Vallaslin, and while be might be dressed rather humbly like a Dalish, he looked so different. Ennaly hadn't noticed how much different until they were surrounded by the Dalish. He was taller and his physique was more muscular than the Elves here. Did he have some far-off human ancestry perhaps, so diluted that his other features did appear Elven?
She saw Solas returning a look to her and a pang of jealousy sprang to life. She was being ridiculous. She shook the thought away, and focussed on her current mission.
"So tell me, what do you want from me?" Anarel started. "Besides the obvious."
Ignoring his jests, she talked about the Inquisition and their plight and that they came here to close rifts and offer assistance. Anarel seemed receptive at first, talking about a rift there was to the south where they had some problems, which Ennaly noted down to investigate. When she requested other information or potential alliance, he not so kindly declined.
"You might be an Elf, but most of your organization are shemlen," Anarel said. "We have no interest in helping."
"I'm not asking much," Ennaly said. "Just to keep an eye out on irregular behaviour. If you see anything with red lyrium, or templars, or anything that can help us, please inform the Inquisition."
"As I said, we have no interest in helping," Anarel repeated himself.
"I have been face to face with a darkspawn magister, Anarel. He threatens the Elves just as much as the Humans. Would you go down together?" Ennaly had grown weary of all the japes he'd thrown at her trough their conversation. It was clear they didn't keep humans in great esteem, neither had she, really, but Anarel was too blinded by his rage to see the bigger picture.
"I have seen no such creature," Anarel replied, seemingly entertained by her apparent exasperation. "I have no proof this happened."
"I have seen it," Solas said, his anger much colder than hers. "She has survived against all odds and the threat is real. You have seen the mark on her hand."
"She survived against all odds, did she?" Anarel repeated with a sneer. "I am surprised you don't kiss the ground she walks on." There was something in the anger behind Solas' eyes that made him tone down a little and add, "So what if this threat is real. It might kill a large portion of the shemlen, and good riddance that'll be. Perhaps we can finally take back what was ours. That mark? Nice parlour trick. Good if it can close rifts, like you claim."
Solas' anger seemed to rise and Ennaly wasn't willing to push it to a breaking point. She felt the conversation was over, doomed from the start, but she still had to know what happened at the farms.
"We passed some farms on our way here," Ennaly began. "They were to the north of here. Might you know more about that?"
Anarel laughed. "Oh yes. They weren't willing to trade with us."
Ennaly stared at him. "So… You just took what you wanted?"
"Of course," the Keeper responded.
"Did you see the children? There were innocent children among those farmers," Ennaly said, not believing the casual tone in which he spoke.
He shrugged. "The Empress did much worse to the Elves in Halamshiral. What about all the innocent children there? I think 20 humans pale in comparison to the 1000 killed there, don't they."
"Revenge won't make it right!" Ennaly called. "Those farmers didn't kill the Elves in Halamshiral. This isn't justice."
"Sometimes you need to claim Elgar'nans revenge instead of waiting for Mythal's justice," Anarel laughed. "It is much sweeter."
"You're horrible," Ennaly said in disgust.
Anarel's eyes shifted to Solas. "You're not a weak-hearted woman. Surely you must understand that sometimes sacrifices are necessary for the greater good."
"We are nothing alike," Solas replied coldly, shifting his gaze to look at Ennaly. "Perhaps we should take our leave."
Anarel laughed and jeered at Ennaly. "Really, you let him tell you what to do? Still listening to older men like a little girl? You know your Inquisition just made you their token Elf, you are just dancing to their..."
"I think we are done here," Solas said, standing up, looking at Ennaly in a way that told her to get up too.
"Yes, I think this conversation is over," she rose, and so did Anarel. Lamaira behind him seemed to fret a little, not liking the tension.
"Already?" he asked tauntingly, looking at her. "Well in that case, follow me to my aravel and let's have some real fun. I really do wonder if that marked hand of your does some special tricks when it's wrapped around my..."
Solas took a step forward, threateningly. He looked tall again, powerful, intimidating in cold anger, staring daggers at Anarel. She had to give some props to Anarel that he didn't cower away, or perhaps he had enough confidence in the many bows that would doubtlessly be pointed in their direction.
"Oh? You prefer she wraps it around yours?" he taunted, a large sneer on his face.
"You disgust me," Solas replied coldly.
"Gentlemen, I really don't think any of this is necessary, is it," Ennaly said quickly, her voice higher than it normally was, feeling humiliated, angry, and on guard. The last thing she needed was Solas cracking in anger, taunted because she wanted to stay here and talk, against his judgement.
Lamaira looked as uncomfortable as she felt, and seemed to avoid looking anyone in the eye. From nearby, Bull stepped closer, clearly having observed everything from afar, even if he couldn't understand the words. She could see the tenseness in his muscle, ready to go to attack. She gave him a small shake of her head to keep him out of this. Dorian, sitting nearby with some crafters, seemed tense too. The nearby vicinity turned silent.
"We thank you for the hospitality. I think my companions here can ready the horses," she continued, hoping both men would back away. "I have one final request left: a few minutes of quiet time at your clan's alter. I won't take long."
Solas looked at her, close to argue, when Anarel interrupted. "You heard the girl. Seems like she can speak her own thought after all," he said, turning his gaze from Solas to Ennaly. "I can grant you some minutes at the altar. Follow me."
He made another pompous bow and moved to place his hand on Ennaly's shoulder, which she immediately shrugged away.
"I am so sorry," she said quietly when she passed Solas. "You were right."
"Just... be quick, please," he said, before turning to Bull to provide some translation of what they've been speaking in Elven.
She had hoped to find friendly faces among the Dalish, perhaps some support in these trying times, but instead she found the most brutish clan she could find.
She followed Anarel who led her through the camp. She took it all in, the familiar sounds and scents and faces, for she did not know how long it would be before she found herself with another clan. Mournfully, she regretted not having the chance to stay a little longer.
All clans had an alter for worship set up in a quiet spot a little away from the camp to allow private worship. It had been too long since Ennaly had properly said her prayers and she wanted to have at least that moment before leaving. In the busy and always crowded camp, it was a place where privacy was sacred.
Anarel led her to the clearing, which was a pretty place, quiet, with the statues of their God scattered around. She found Mythal's altar and knelt down, then, when she did not hear footsteps turning back, she turned around.
Anarel hadn't left.
"This is a private place for worship," she said. "Please leave me."
Instead of leaving, he stepped closer. "I thought you simply desired some quiet time with me alone."
"Seems you thought wrong, what a surprise."
"How long has it been since you have been with a real Dalish man?" Anarel stepped closer again. "Your companions are not around, you don't have to keep pretending to be better than us."
"Leave me alone. You're the last person I want to see right now. This is a sacred place."
Anarel laughed. "I feel that anger always turns me on." He looked her up and down. "You are what… 30, 31 now? You still look good, little First. Could do with losing your shemlen coat. And everything else, really."
Little First. That is what he used to call her, when they were alone in their clan, when she didn't yet know he was also whispering them to those other girls.
"I think that is 10 years outside of your normal range, isn't it?" she remarked dryly. "You got older, but the age of your girls did not. Your poor First, you humiliated her, she didn't deserve that. What does she think of this, you being here?"
"She knows I am a free man. How long has it been since anyone touched you?"
Ennaly sighed. She really didn't want to be having this conversation. "This might surprise you, but there are far more pressing things in life than sex."
Anarel laughed. "So, it has been a long time."
He reached out to try and touch her, but she side-stepped and his hand only reached thin air. It made him laugh again. "So defensive. You travel with all these men, but none there to warm your body at night."
"What does it matter to you if I slept with none or all of them at the same time? I don't see how that's your business. Leave me alone."
"You might blame me for liking younger girls, but I can blame you for liking older men just as well. That flat-ear certainly keeps a close eye on you."
"Yes, because he didn't trust you. Surprise again, he turned out to be right, you're an ass!"
"I just want to ensure you get the care you deserve."
"No, Anarel, you just want to be able to claim you've slept with the Inquisitor."
"I have slept with the Inquisitor."
"That was ten years ago. I wasn't the Inquisitor then."
He grinned. "I've learned some tricks over the years. I could give you the satisfaction you deserve."
"Anarel, I have already told you, you are the last person I want to be with."
He took another step. "If not for pleasure, perhaps for business?" She once again stepped back. "Too proud, Ennaly?" he taunted. "You wanted information, resources. I can sell those. The price is simply... You."
Ennaly froze. A few years ago, she'd been in the same situation with a human man, withholding the medicine her clan member needed. She had agreed then. Would she give less to the Inquisition that she gave to her clan?
In her moment of stillness, Anarel had closed her distance between them, grabbing her and pulling her against him. He kissed her, roughly. A feeling of illness possessed Ennaly. She tried to move her arms, push away, but she wasn't strong enough. Well, luckily she had magic...
She focussed her will, drawing from the Fade, and with a mind blast, she pushed Anarel away. He was pushed back several feet, but remained standing. He laughed.
"You're a monster!" she called out, spitting on the ground.
"You got feisty," he said. "Well, if you don't want to play nice, kneel for me."
He stretched his hand and a surge of power went through it. Ennaly reacted by casting a barrier and the force deflected away.
"Too good for a Dalish man, are you?" Anarel spat at her, getting up.
"Certainly not," Ennaly replied tauntingly, anticipating another attack. "But I see no Dalish man here."
A lightning bolt sped her way, but it also deflected on her barrier. Every missed spell seemed to make Anarel angrier.
"Conceited bitch, living high and mighty in your human castle," Anarel spat at her. "Kin-traitor. I don't want you. Nobody wants you. You belong to Fen'Harel now!"
"I'd rather be fighting at Fen'Harel's side than hiding in the forest like you do like bandits, killing innocent children and blind to the real threats out there!"
Another ill-guided lightning bolt. He fought in rage, but she defended with focus. It was easy, really. She didn't want to fight him, if she did, that would lead to so much more trouble. The clan was still very much nearby and she did not want to have to face them. She just had to defend herself and hope he'd stop. Besides, they were in a blessed grove here.
"You can't hit me," Ennaly taunted back. "You fight like a child, and you're already depleting your mana."
She saw it. Every spell had less power behind it and Anarel seemed out of breath. She felt good. This simple thing, a focus in a fight, gave her the upper edge her. Anarel was a mere bandit, used to kill from the shadows, not duel one on one with another trained mage.
She was done with it. She summoned the mana for another mind blast, empowered, and blasted her opponent to the ground with a grunt. From there, he immediately grabbed a dagger from his belt, pointed towards her.
She laughed. "You think you can fight me, the Inquisitor? I have physically walked out of the Fade, the lone survivor of an explosion that flattened a mountaintop, I've had the power of a hundred mages surge through me to close the Breach, I've faced off with a Darkspawn Magister and lived, and I've fought heaps of demons and closed dozens of rifts, and you think you can fight me?"
She felt empowered from her where she stood, looking down on the man on the ground. He looked at her, his face between awe, fear and defiance. He made another move as if he was going to jump up and attack with the dagger.
"If you attack me one more time, I will attack back," Ennaly continued. She stepped closer and called fire to her palm, illuminating her face and making her hair dance in the raw entropy of the swirling magic. She waited a moment, and Anarel let his hands fall down. "Now, you said you wanted to give me satisfaction I deserve. Nothing will satisfy me more than your apology, so if you know what's good for you, apologize."
He looked at her, mouth agape, not saying anything.
"Apologize," Ennaly repeated. "There is no one around, so you don't have to worry about your pride."
"I - I'm sorry," the man muttered. He seemed to shrink in on himself.
"With my title," Ennaly added. "That's what you wanted, isn't it?"
Anarel looked like he wasn't going to give her. Ennaly, not done yet with the man, held out her other hand too, the hand with the Anchor. She let some magic run through it so it surged up.
"You know about this mark," Ennaly spat. "The shemlen name me Herald of Andrastre. But I know what this really is. This mark is placed upon my hand by our Gods. Would you truly defy me, who carries the legacy of ancient Elven power?" She was standing among the white statues that represented their Gods, illuminated with the green light from the Anchor, seemingly coming to live as green spirits behind Ennaly. "Apologize, with my title, or fear their wrath."
"I'm sorry, Inquisitor," Anarel spoke, looking at her in utter shock.
"That's with lady in there. Once more."
"I'm sorry, Lady Inquisitor."
"Good. Now, if you see Inquisition agents, you better help them and give them any help and information you come upon. If you defy, you defy your very Gods, and Elgar'Nan's revenge will be turned on you. Now, leave."
Ennaly let the fire die down and folded her arms, watching as the man scrambled to his feet, gave her a last shocked look, and left.
Movement to her right caught her eye. There, a little distance away between the trees, were Dorian and Solas, casually leaning on their staffs, with Bull looming behind them.
"Really, were you there the whole time?" Ennaly asked in anger, emotions still howling through her body, as she strode in their direction.
"We literally swore to protect you on our travels," Dorian said. "Of course we would keep an eye on you. We gathered the horses and followed where you went."
"I didn't think that you needed it," Bull added hastily at the look of fire in her eyes. "I never thought to be intimidated by something a fifth of my size, but damn. That was pretty hot, Boss. I couldn't understand a word, but oof, you really showed him, didn't you?"
"Are you alright, though?" Dorian asked concerned.
"Am I alright?" Ennaly repeated with a laugh. Currently, the anger in her raged louder than any other emotion and being alright was not a concept currently available in her mind. She looked at Solas. He was standing tall, his posture all kingly again, with a concerned expression on his face, but there was something else close to the surface. Pride?
"You could understand all words," she said heatedly. She remembered how she once confessed to him to selling her body for medicine, and how he could have followed each word spoken between Anarel and her. Ignoring this, she stared Solas right in the eyes, her anger still winning from any other emotion she could feel.
"Are you happy now? You were right. We shouldn't have entertained him. I've never felt more connected to you, Solas. I finally share some of your hatred for the Dalish. I've turned my back on this clan."
The pride in his eyes seemed to overtake the concern as an amused smile grew on his face.
"If there is anything to say, it is that you can be proud," he said. "You dominated him without ever casting one offensive spell. That was quite impressive, Ennaly."
"Well, yes..." she replied, feeling bolstered by those words. "You know? Perhaps I am proud of myself." She turned to walk to her horse, Dorian quickly jumping aside as she stomped through. "Come on, I want to find something to kill."
"We could also just find you a suitable man in the next village," Bull suggested. "Seems just as effective."
"I am done with men," Ennaly declared. "Besides..." she added dramatically, forgetting he did not understand the Elven. She looked back at the others. "Didn't you hear Anarel? I belong to Fen'Harel now. Dread Wolf take me."
Bull and Dorian just looked at her confused. She climbed on her horse, then looked back to Solas. His amused smile had curled into a prideful smirk. "Ask him," she shot back again. "He heard that swine's words. I'm sure he can provide you with the translation and context you need."
But Solas kept his mouth shut, curled in his smirk.