Wake up

It was still light for a few hours, and to use it, they drove south to where the Dalish had told them they had heard of a rift. Ennaly started out in a canter, still filled with rage, but the longer she rode, the more that the rage was replaced by despair. She had always thought that the Dalish we honourable, worthy, the way she considered her own clan being. Seeing a clan that was as barbaric as Solas claimed some were rattled on her world view, which was the centre of how she viewed herself.

She was glad when they were near the rift. It felt good to kill the wraiths that swarmed them. Even the terror demons in the next wave were easy to kill with the use of the Anchor's focus, but Ennaly could slowly feel the weariness of the emotions from the day exhausting her. And then came the pride demon.

Ennaly remembered the first pride demon she fought, before she was the Herald of Andraste. She nearly died in that fight. But she was more experienced now, had more power. She could no longer rely on her Anchor, since it wasn't recharged enough to be used a second time so soon, but she wasn't alone. Bull was hacking in on the demon, he was almost gone, the killing blow was near...

But the demon had reach. Before Bull's axe fully shattered its essence, its whip landed white-hot on her face with a crack of power. She cried out, could feel blood running down her left eye. The demon dissipated, she just had to reach out her hand, force her will through the mark, and close the rift.

With unsteady hands, half-blinded by her own blood, she reached for a potion and downed it. She could feel the searing pain softening, flesh knitting together, but the potion couldn't dissolve the blood that covered half her face.

She felt a darkness slowly creep in from the edges of her vision and sound seemed to numb down to silence. She saw a shape running closer to her, but it slowly faded to blackness.

"I think I'm going to…" Ennaly muttered before she fainted, not noticing that another figure Fade-stepped near her to keep her from hitting the ground.

"I think that is all we can do," she heard Solas' voice.

"Try some more, would you," Dorian said.

She could feel the touch of Solas magic on her skin on the left-hand side of her face.

"Shh, stay still," Dorian said to her as she began to stir. There was soft velvet under her head. She was on Dorian's lap.

When the touch of magic left her skin, she opened her eyes. The blood was cleaned away. The two other mages were leaned over her, Dorian upside-down and Solas in front of her, having just used restorative magic.

"Is it bad?" she asked, touching the left side of her face and wincing.

"Magical damage like this will leave a scar," Solas said.

Dorian shot him an angry look, as if was not supposed to say that. "You still look as pretty as always, Ennaly."

"I think it's badass," Bull added.

She sat upright. Her head swam a bit. "You must have a mirror," she said to the Tevinter. "I want to judge this myself."

Dorian got his pack and grabbed a small hand mirror, the back wood inlayed with iridescent shells. There was a swollen red line about two inches above her eye and to two inches below. Above her eye, it split her eyebrow in two. She didn't care for that, but the line below her eye, over her cheekbone, split her Vallaslin cleanly in two.

She stared at it. Just hours after she denounced the Dalish and proclaimed herself to the Dread Wolf in anger, her Vallaslin, the mark that made her visibly Dalish, was split.

"Well that's just bloody typical, isn't it," she muttered. "The Gods act quickly. I lost myself in my anger, and now my anger made me lose a bit of me. By a pride demon, even. Bloody brilliant."

"Ennaly?" Dorian asked concerned.

"I'm not that vain," she replied defeatedly, handing back the mirror. "The scar itself isn't that bad, I don't care for it. Thanks for healing, Solas. And sorry for fainting on you all just now." The men looked at her sympathetically. "I assume we are going to camp here, so if you men would excuse me, I'm going to soak in the river until I can forget this day."

She turned her back on her companions and began to walk to the nearby river. She ignored the sobs that came, surely audible to all as she stripped down and entered the cold water.

A minute later, Dorian came to the waterside, a towel tied around his waist, and entered next to Ennaly. He pulled her closer and placed her head on his shoulder. Ennaly began to sob louder.

"Now, now, it's going to be alright…" he said consolingly. "Just let it come, cry it out."

So she did, grateful that someone as unexpected as a Tevinter Mage was so good at comforting her.

The next day they continued further to help out with Fairbanks' request. They found him in the beautiful lush forest of the Emeral Graves. The sadness that had taken seed in Ennaly turned to melancholy here, for everything that was lost to the Elves in this beautiful forest.

It was sad that even more war was fought in these lands and drove people homeless.

This civil war between the Empress and her cousin might have started with the blood of Elves in Halamshiral, it now spread to far corners and affected innocent people, while there were always opportunist group taking advantage of the chaos, like the Freemen of the Dales. Every drop of innocent blood spilled was one too many to Ennaly, and as opposed to Anarel, she did care to help. So, as per Fairbanks' request, the weeded out the offenders and allowed Fairbanks and the refugees some semblance of stability, and were able to disturb the red lyrium trade.

When they found out Fairbanks had noble blood, yet he did not seem to want to claim it, Ennaly was fine with letting it rest. She didn't want to force someone to the life she now partly had to live, where the order of a spoon mattered and the wrong expression to the wrong face meant losing influence.

But then Dorian whispered to her. "We helped him, he wanted to help the Inquisition in return, and he can do that much better with a title in front of his name! Orlesians love a good story, imagine what they think when the Inquisition helped a rebel noble!"

For the greater good, then. She gave Clara the evidence of Fairbanks' nobility and bad them all farewell, on their way to return back to Skyhold.

"I doubt that's the last we'll hear of him," Ennaly said as she got on her horse.

"He was a rather handsome man, wasn't he?" Dorian mused.

"For a Human," Ennaly and Bull said in unison. Solas just sighed.

She hoped he would like the Game more than she would. Although... There was a weird nagging feeling inside her that she had enjoyed the power she exerted over Anarel. Wasn't that what Leliana and Josephine considered part of the Game?

They had a few hours of travel left before they would be making their camp, and all the while Ennaly was lost in sadness that the Dalish First she'd been a year ago, would not recognize herself in the Inquisitor she was now becoming.

A few hours later she found herself together with Solas, gathering some food to serve as their dinner. It was the first time they'd really been alone together since the Dalish camp. The Dalish camp... She had such mixed feelings about that entire event. But there was one thing she felt she hadn't really done properly yet.

"I don't think I ever really apologized," she said.

"Apologized? What for?" Solas replied, having just picked a mushroom.

"For everything that happened at the Dalish camp," she continued. "I know you didn't want to be there, and then you had to be subjected to all those... vulgarities. I just wanted to let you know that I'm sorry."

"Thank you," he replied, observing her. "But, if anything, you had to endure it worse than I did. I am sorry that had to happen."

"Well... Thanks," she said, feeling a little bit better. She let her arms rest, the pouch with gathered mushroom loosely at her side. "You know what's strange? As regrettable as that entire endeavour was...It did feel good to be in a Dalish camp again. It had been such a long time since I was at one. That was all my world was once, the aravels and the halla, and the crafts and the feel of unity. You know, not all Dalish are so bad," she added in a low voice. "I think my clan was pretty honourable. I do regret my words."

She didn't say which words, but Solas seemed to understand.

"Anger is not an emotion I am that familiar with. I should never have spoked those words at all. Well, I got my rebuttal for that, didn't I?" She touched the scar on her face, the red lines less swollen than they had been. "I'll have to live with this now."

"It is not that bad," he said consolingly.

"Easy for you to say, it's not on your face."

"I have my own scars."

"Yes, but yours is tiny compared to this," Ennaly said, looking at the small scar on his forehead. "What happened?"

"Magical damage, like yours."

"Hmmm..." she mused. "It is just strange to think how much wider my world has grown in just a few months."

"Do you still wish to go back again, once this is over?" Solas asked.

"I don't know. I'm still First, I suppose," she pondered, surprised that her answer wasn't a quick of course. She wrinkled her brow in thought. "You know, my world used to be very black-and white. I considered most of what we Dalish did as perfect, the way things should be. And I thought most things humans were just crude and barbaric. But it's not really like that, is it? There are Dalish that are terrible, like Anarel's clan, and there are humans who are not so terrible, like Dorian, and the Inquisition's advisors. And even outside the Inquisition, there are humans like Fairbanks, whom clearly have a sense of morality."

Solas considered her with sharp eyes, but didn't say anything.

"And well... I once thought that everything humans build was boxy, inorganic and ugly. But that turned out wrong too. Remember Val Royeux? We were there only a short time, and I was quite scared to enter such a large city, truth be told… But I would like to go back there. I thought it was quite unlike anything I ever thought human hands could build. The arches, the bright colours, all the greenery in the city... And I really want to be in one of those silly boats in the lake, remember those?"

She noticed a change in her own mood as she talked about that. She had been feeling so down these last few days, but these thoughts brought a sense of joy back to her. Solas seemed to notice the shift in her mood too, and gave her a watery smile.

"I remember those, yes," he said. "I am sure our Inquisition business will lead us back there one day."

"I hope so," she replied with a smile, then another thought entered her mind. "Do they even let Elves on those boats?"

Solas looked up. "You are the Inquisitor. I think if any Elf can, you can."

Ennaly stared at him. "But that is selfish, isn't it? I am not... I don't think I'm selfish."

"No, you are not."

There was such a sincerity in those words that Ennaly's heart fluttered again. She really hoped she was over that by now.

"Well..." she said. "Speaking about not being selfish, I think we only have enough for ourselves now, and really, Bull can eat."

They looked back to the forest ground, and in the low rays of the sun, they saw a large bunny crossing the grass in front of them. Solas reacted quickly, and with a flick of his wrist, a surge of magic erupted from his hand and the bunny fell to the ground.

"Well, that takes care of that," he said with a chuckle and went to pick it up.

"Solas?" Ennaly asked, considering him.

"Yes?" he asked, having picked up the bunny and turned around.

"I've spoken about my home, but what is home to you? Where are you from? A village in the north? Are you from Tevinter?"

"Those are a lot of questions," he replied, seeming to consider his words carefully. "But I am from those lands... yes."

There it was again, the expression of sorrowful remembrance.

"Are you an escaped slave?" Ennaly asked timidly.

Solas looked at a point over her shoulder. "In a sense." He seemed distanced, apprehensive.

"I'm sorry," she replied quietly. "I can't imagine that was easy. I shouldn't have pried."

"Thank you," he said, looking back at her, his face neutral again. "It is natural to feel curious. But... There are some painful memories. I would rather not talk about it."

"Of course," she said compassionately, regretting starting about it. She expected he hadn't had a happy past, or he would have talked about it more often. From his stories, it seemed like he had led a lonely existence, and never truly had a home like she had. She was foolish to mention it.

Having gathered all the food they needed, they returned to camp to prepare it, both seemingly lost in thought, Ennaly's mood once again changed from joy back into melancholy.

"Haven," Ennaly said, as she found herself in front of the large wooden doors. She looked behind her. Solas stood there, giving an encouraging smile.

It seemed so serene. The sun was shining softly from beyond a thin layer of clouds and made the snowy ground glitter. Large snowflakes danced down from above, lazily in the absence of harsh wind. It was desolated, their footsteps the only thing to disturb the pristine blanket.

Next to the gates stood all the snowmen that were made during the competition. The weird lopsided ones made by the children, the well-proportioned snowman that won the competition and of course Dorian's beautiful halla, unblemished and whole again.

She had an inkling of where she was and what was going on. A part of her thought to break the spell now, but why should she? She might as well enjoy this for a little longer. She looked behind her again, smiling, before Solas followed her.

She twirled and danced her way towards the halla. Laughing, she touched its nose. For a moment, it seemed to nuzzle in her hand, not cold to the touch, before it shook and little ice crystals seemed to shake off. Then, it reared and took off to run a circle around them before it ran off into the distance. It shone in the sunlight like a creature made of diamonds, the light beams refracting in a kaleidoscope of colours behind it.

Naturally, it did, for here she could determine what could happen, and bringing a crystal creation to life was easy.

"This is amazing," she said, before she danced her way towards the large doors and opened them. She went to the left, Solas following her.

"I can't believe how small my hut here used to be," she said. "If I compare that to Skyhold now..."

"Yes, it is rather more suited to the Inquisition, is it not?" Solas said with a chuckle.

She walked around inside, let her hand glide over all the surfaces. It was amazing how real things could always feel here. Who would tell her this wasn't really wood, the blanket on the bed wasn't really fabric?

"Remember when you carried me back here from your hut?" she said, walking in the opposite direction.

It was rhetorical, yet he still replied, "Yes. You said you didn't need a hero.".

She laughed back at him. "Yet there you were, riding in on your shining... Wolf? That was a good memory, wasn't it? Then, closing the breach was the biggest worry out there, instead of trying to prevent a darkspawn magister from obtaining so-called godhood." She stopped in her tracks. "This is where we saw the army approach."

She stood there a moment in contemplation, looking out over the mountains, where they'd seen the horde approaching. She shook the thought away. They were here for her benefit, and she knew it wouldn't last, so she might as well enjoy it.

"Come on," she said, grinning and extending her hand. The other looked at her hand expectantly for a bit, before she shook it in encouragement and he took it. His hand felt real, warm and strong.

Just as everything else felt real here, so did he. It didn't really help, because she knew she had to keep her distance. But right now, she still had the upper hand, so she might as well enjoy this near-real Solas.

She spun around in laughter, ensuring that not more than their hands ever touched. After a while, she let go and spun around on her own, twirling her hands again to move snowflakes out of the way. She closed her eyes, for just a little moment, letting the feeling of serenity wash over her again. When she opened her eyes, she remembered that there was no serenity here.

A little out of breath, she walked to the wall of a nearby hut and leaned against it.

"It is good to see you are enjoying yourself again," Solas said, joining her in leaning against the wall. "It has been a though few days."

"Well, it is pretty nice here," she said, feeling her heartrate increase. Soon. It couldn't last much longer. She took the sight in of Haven around her, and resigned herself to the task she knew would come the moment she realized where she was with Solas.

"Shame really. I know what you really are," Ennaly said with resolution.

The figure next to her didn't move.

She got up and turned around, facing it, still leaning against the wall of the hut. There was a strange, tense look on its face with a slight frown as it looked at her.

"You're not really Solas," she said. "You have a lot of nerve, thinking you could deceive me. I think I knew from the start, really. You just tricked me here with lies of comfort. I'm not that foolish."

"What am I then, according to you?" the figure asked. Its voice seemed unsteady, perhaps ready to lash out its attack.

She observed the figure. She felt in power here, having figured it out. With a slight smile on her face, she reached out her hand. The figure didn't flinch away, but looked at her, almost in apprehension... and fear? She placed her hand on his neck, her fingers touching his ear – it's ear, she corrected herself – and let her fingers glide down over its sternum, over its chest, where she gripped the leather cord that held the jawbone. The creature was good. Its breath turned irregular as her fingers glided over its skin. It was almost real.

She frowned. "I don't think you made a perfect copy," she noted. "The real Solas' doesn't have shoulders this wide."

The figure's eyebrows shot up. "What do you think I am?" it asked.

"It's obvious," she replied, giving a small tug on the leather cord she was holding, forcing the creature to bend down, their eyes meeting at the same level. "You're a desire demon."

Its eyebrows shot up again, its look in the grey eyes turning incredulous. "You think I am... A desire demon?"

She smiled, releasing the leather cord. The figure steadied itself after the sudden release, still staring at her in disbelief.

"It's so clear," she said. "You lured me here with false comfort, wearing the skin of the man I desire. I know the real Solas doesn't return my feelings, and I have made my peace with that... But this, what you're doing, tempting me, is cruel, really. But I've seen right through your lies. I won't let you possess me."

She looked at it proudly for her revelation, still feeling like she had it all figured out. She expected the figure to explode in anger, leash out, which would result in her waking up, but it remained immobile. She was in the Fade, the dreamworld, it had no power over her unless she allowed it, and because she had figured it out, it would never get that power.

But the figure didn't lash out. It seemed confused, taken aback, seemed at a loss for words.

And suddenly, a feeling of dread fell upon Ennaly. She took a step backwards, suddenly horrified.

"Ennaly..." he said, full in wonder and puzzlement.

"No," she replied in denial, starting to feel mortified. She stared at the grey eyes. Did they not belong to a desire demon after all, was she wrong? She wanted to get away, leave this place, and turned around, only to have a strong grip on her arm preventing her to move away.

"Ennaly, wait," Solas called.

Her feet felt weak, and she doubted that even if she could pull away, they wouldn't carry her. She turned around to look at him.

"You toyed with me," Ennaly accused, her voice heated, hurt. She was angry, confused, horrified, but also felt betrayed. Dangerous emotions to have while in the Fade.

"Ennaly, please..." Solas begged. "I never meant... Let us talk, after you wake up."