His Power

Ennaly awoke with a gasp. Somewhere next to her, she heard another gasp of someone waking. She was angry, hurt and confused. She shook the blankets away and tried to get up as quietly as she could, so she wouldn't wake anyone else.

"You," she accused as she was near Solas. "Follow. Me." The words were like daggers.

He got up and she grabbed his wrist, pulling him behind her.

Someone must have been keeping guard, but she didn't know who, didn't have an eye for anything else but the anger she felt for her fellow Elf. If there was someone awake other than them, they didn't make their presence known.

"Did you enjoy tricking me like that?" Ennaly accused angrily, pulling him with her. The flickering of the Anchor was the only illumination on their path.

"I am sorry, that was never my intention," Solas voice sounded behind her, his tone soft and apologetic, filled with a silent plea.

When she judged that they were far enough away from camp, Ennaly turned around and pushed him to a tree. She looked up to his face.

"What did you intend to do, then?" she asked sharply.

"I have seen you having a hard time, these last days," Solas started. "You had not been sleeping well. I simply wished to offer you some comfort, sleep without nightmares, memories of a place where you had known some joy."

She looked at him. His words were touching. If it was true, he had taken her to Haven, and she had felt a moment of joy there. But now, it didn't matter if he actually had tried to comfort her, Ennaly's anger was ready to leash out and hurt like she felt hurt.

"And you thought the Fade was the perfect place, colloquially known as the place of demons?" she spat.

"That is my mistake," he replied. "Things have always been easier for me in the Fade. It was ill-considered, I should not have done it."

"That's a little too late now," she shot back. She looked up at him, his eyes deep green in the illumination of the Anchor, anticipating him to say anything.

For the second time since she'd known him, he seemed at a loss for words. He tried several times to start speaking, but always faltered on the first word.

She noticed he was only wearing his breeches, his chest bare, and that made her realize that for her it was the opposite. She was only wearing her shift, the thin material clinging to her skin, leaving her legs and arms bare. They had just been sleeping after all, covered with blankets and near the warmth of the campfire. Suddenly self-aware, she crossed her arms, hiding the Anchor from view, hiding both of them in midnight darkness. If she was going to cry, she certainly wasn't going to let him see it.

"Leave," she said in a low voice, barely more than a whisper. "I know when I'm not wanted. I want to be alone."

They were in silent darkness for several moments, but no footsteps to indicate that Solas had turned around.

"It is not that simple," his voice sounded, never sounding more vulnerable.

A few seconds of silence rang between them.

"What are you saying," Ennaly said apprehensively, not knowing how she should interpret those words.

"You are the Inquisitor," he said. "You have duties and responsibilities."

"I'm just a woman, Solas."

"I am not the man for you. I have done... You should forget about me in this way, Ennaly."

She unfurled her arms again, and gentle illumination lit both of them anew. Her anger had turned to curiosity. The sorrow she so often saw behind Solas' eyes seemed to have taken over him. Yet, a metaphorical shadow seemed to loom over the man in front of her. He wasn't just the unassuming, smart, studious apostate he seemed to be, he never was. An unseen power seemed to buzz behind him, unexpected, but raw and emotional. And it was strange to her, that here, cloaked in a power she did not know he possessed, he seemed more vulnerable to her than she'd ever seen him.

They'd all have a past, that was clear. What had he done, killed children like Anarel and his clan? She couldn't imagine it.

"But I don't want to," she said softly. Her heart was beating fast now. Tentatively, she took a step closer.

"This is a bad idea," Solas said when their bodies almost touched.

"Sometimes, a bad idea feels really good," Ennaly whispered back.

Did she dare? Certainly, if there was a moment, this was it? She placed her hand on his cheek to make him face her. He looked conflicted and sorrowful still, but there was an undertone of longing in there. She tip-toed to reach higher, and placed a soft kiss on his lips. Scared by her own daring and fear of rejection, she pulled away.

Solas reached out his hands to grab her arms, preventing her from pulling away further. He looked at her, the sorrow had turned to wonder, to hunger, to lust. He shook his head, as if he couldn't believe what he was about to do, as he pulled her closer to him and kissed her back. The flutter in her heart rose to a crescendo. This is what mattered, her body pressed to him, lips together, both hungry, longing for connection. It was clear he wanted her as much as she wanted him. Had it been like that all this time?

Her hands were tracing the lines on his body, his shoulders, his neck, his arms, all naked skin, cold by the night air, but soon warming up under their embrace. His hands were doing the same to her body, her breasts, her back, the nape of her neck, and slipped under her shift to feel the curve of her bottom.

She hardly registered he had picked her up, her legs wrapped around him, until he pushed her to a nearby tree, pinning her in place. His lips left hers to trail down to her neck. She gasped. Every touch of his was like magic. No, it wasn't like magic, it was actual magic, she soon realized, as she could feel the familiar touch of his power teasing over her skin in places his hands never reached.

She lost herself in the feeling, letting it sweep her away, all new like she'd never experienced before. He was hungry in his touches, passionate. She remembered his posture as he walked to the torch in the snowy mountains on a forlorn ancient roadway with all the confidence like a just-crowned king. This was the passion that matched by that image of his, completely in control, confident enough to be tender and know what she wanted.

His magic swirled all over her body, powerful, enchanting, as a symphony of music, the rhythm rising and falling, but always pushing forward, so much she wanted to cry out for him to stop, it was overwhelming – but she couldn't, because at the same time, it felt so good.

His kissed her neck, her lips, her ears. She could no longer resist his power and allowed him to take over. It was bliss and she lost herself in him. Soon, she was trembling against him, fingernails digging in his back.

"Fascinating," he spoke in quiet approval, his voice barely audible.

He had used that word before, when his magic surged through her for the first time to channel the Anchor, in the little hut in Haven. Was this what he had been thinking about?

Ennaly was slowly more aware of her surroundings, the shift clinging to her sweaty form, the rough texture of the tree in her back, and Solas' face nuzzled in the bend of her neck, nibbling on her skin, allowing her to recover her breath.

She finally detached herself a little from him, her feet on the ground again, not pinned against the tree.

"That was…" she started, but she didn't have the words to finish. There was a vulnerability here, completely under his power, in his control, but she didn't feal threatened. If anything, she felt like something closed between them and they were on equal footing. By taking her like this, he'd crowned her his queen.

Solas responded by kissing her lips again, sweet, tender, taking away the need to find words to describe the feeling.

She let her fingers glide downwards over his body, tugging at the top of his breeches. He broke the kiss and leaned back, his face suddenly distanced.

"Don't you want...?" Ennaly asked, a little surprised by this response.

Solas placed his hands above her elbows, pulling away, so she could no longer touch him.

"No," he said, his voice low, still distanced, not looking her in the eyes. "This was... This is not a good idea."

The words took moments to fully reach Ennaly's understanding. She had seen him naked before, anyone in the camp, even if was side-eyed, there was no way around that, just as others had seen her. He didn't have anything to be embarrassed about, and furthermore, she could see that he wanted her. Why did he almost seem scared?

"Why?" she asked, her voice a soft plea. He didn't have to be afraid with her. "There could be room in my heart for you, if you'd let it."

He didn't look at her, but still held her arms. "It has been a long time," he uttered, distanced. "I… need time to think…"

With him releasing his control over her, she could feel herself dwindling down and vulnerable, confused. Somehow, she was feeling like a girl, experiencing love for the first time. So much for feeling like a queen.

"Of… of course," Ennaly replied, but it felt as if a ghost uttered the words. "I - I can wait."

Solas looked up to her again and caught her eye. For a moment, he seemed to lean closer again, going in for another kiss? Then he seemed to halt, think the better of it, and stepped away, releasing her.

"We should go back to camp," he said instead.

Ennaly could only nod and follow him, feeling like she wasn't quite herself, like she was floating through the Veil, not quite here and not quite there. They hadn't even taken off their clothes.

She didn't want to know if anyone else was awake, so when they got back, she kept her head down, and went to lay in her bedroll. She relived the events of the entire night for what felt like hours, before she could fall asleep.

Ennaly awoke late the next morning. She used to be one of the first to rise, but this day, she could hear the others walking around. The memory of everything that happened the last night, made her still shy. She didn't think she could muster the courage to get out her bedroll and face Solas – by the Dread Wolf, no!

She sat up, her back turned to the camp. To her embarrassment, she noticed pieces of bark stuck in her braid and remembered being pushed against a tree. Her hands unsteady, she began to undo her braid to clean her hair.

She heard she sound of water splashing in the nearby pond. She shot a sneaky look to the others in the camp. Dorian was lounging with the book he had taken with him, Bull was busy with a workout routine, and Solas was crouched near the water, back to them all, still no tunic on, washing his face and torso. He also must just have gotten up.

"Say, Solas, can you scratch your own back?" Bull asked.

"Is this the prelude to a joke, Bull?" Solas asked in return.

"It is a mere observation." There was an amused tone in his voice.

Solas seemed to realize what he was actually talking about at the same Ennaly did. Those were the marks from her fingernails.

"Ah." Solas said.

"I see the marks are also going in the wrong direction," Bull continued. "Your hand can't make that angle. The marks also don't seem to match your hands. There is only one pair of hands here small enough."

Ennaly could feel all three pairs of eyes landing on her back.

"I'm ready for the next Fade rift to engulf me," she said, only half turned around. She couldn't face Solas. They hadn't even, not really at least, actually done anything besides kissing. Kissing and magical touches. Bull and Dorian probably had different things in mind.

"If you need someone to be the butt end of your jokes, Bull, use me, but leave her alone," Solas commented.

"Ho, I'm not about to makes jokes here. Good on you two."

Solas was silent for a bit. "Thank you, Bull," he said.

"But remember when I joked about finding a man for Ennaly in the next village? Who knew he was here right along." He laughed loudly.

"Yes, I'm dying of laughter," Ennaly replied sarcastically, still facing away from the others.

"Didn't you also say you were done with men," Bull continued. "That you belonged to the Dire Wolf or something. Well Solas, that makes you..."

"Bull," Solas said sharply. "Stop it."

Bull stopped and seemed to reconsider the situation. "Right. Sorry."

"Come Bull, they clearly have something to work through," Dorian said, grabbing his arm and leaving. "Don't do anything we wouldn't do!" He yelled back, before she heard the two of them leaving, and soon after, a soft pair of footsteps coming nearer.

"It would be easier to talk if you turned around," Solas' soft voice sounded.

"Well, get used to my back, that'll all you're getting," Ennaly responded, too embarrassed to turn around.

You should forget about me in this way, Ennaly, he had said to her before he showed her all the things he could do with his magical powers. Well, that was going to be even harder after last night.

"I'm sorry for the scratches," Ennaly added in a low voice. "I didn't intend to hurt you."

A soft chuckle. "I am quite alright. I only regret that Bull had to see it and make conclusions."

"Yeah, I wish this could have been kept between us," Ennaly responded. Us. There suddenly was this new, weird concept that erupted from last night events. Some kind of bond had formed. She turned around where she sat, her hair loose now, free from most large pieces of bark.

Solas had put his tunic on again. He looked calm, like the same calm exterior he always had, like nothing really could get through to him.

"What did you do, really? With your magic?" she asked in wonder. "I have been with another mage before, as you know, but he didn't… I didn't…" Her voice trailed off.

Another chuckle. She wasn't quite sure if she wanted to hit him, kiss him, ignore him, or take off his clothes.

"Well, I have certainly learned some... tricks... over the years. Magic has more practical uses than offence or defence," he said, a sly smile just on the corner of his lips.

"So you learned it in the Fade," she said, eyeing him.

"In… a manner of speaking, yes," he responded, casually. He shifted, an apologetic look on his face, as he leaned over, never quite close enough to touch. Ennaly imagined him entangled with spirit entities, bodyless, but surging magic through each other.

"I apologize, I should not have sprung that upon you without a warning."

"Oh no, you absolutely should have," Ennaly declared, unapologetically staring at Solas, standing up. Raised, she was taller than he was sitting on the ground, and she could look down on him. She enjoyed the perspective. "But only because you're the one who's bearing the marks now."

"I have already healed them."

She shook her head disapprovingly. "Shame."

He looked at her with an amused grin, before he averted his eyes. "Last night was…" He trailed off, searching for a word.

"If you say mistake, I will strangle you," Ennaly commented.

For a moment, Solas looked up to meet her gaze, seemingly tempted to bait her, before he averted his eyes again. "I was going to say passionate. I suppose my boundaries were lowered after that excursion to the Fade."

She crossed her arms. The neckline of her shift fell down one shoulder. She left it there, almost silently daring Solas to take a look at her exposed neck, the place he had nibbled hours ago. But, as she knew, his willpower would prevent him from letting his eyes glide away from her face.

"What did you do, visiting me in my dreams like that?" she said in wonder. She changed her expression. "I mean, I am still angry at you for tricking me like that. My Keeper told me that it has been a very long time since there were any Dreamers. So, naturally I thought you were a demon."

"I should have realized," Solas said. "As you know, I have trained hard to have full control over my dreams. I suppose this was a result of that training. Your Anchor makes it easy to find you in the Fade, like a beacon." A smile of amusement grew on his lips. "I do have to commend you. You thought I was a demon yet still took me for a dance, and you were unafraid to challenge."

"Why shouldn't I be? If you were a demon, you couldn't have harmed me. Isn't that what you always say? If a demon does not pose a threat to me, it might just as well be a spirit. And why not dance with a spirit? I know when I'm in control of a situation."

"Evidently."

They shared a charged look before Ennaly continued, "Well, next time you visit my dreams, say something weird, like teapot, so I know it's you."

Solas looked at her, amused. "Teapot? It will be easier to just read my aura. A demon cannot mimic that, while they might figure out a password."

"Well, trickster," she said, walking to the water's edge. "Next time, bring me somewhere exciting. After you've done your thinking, of course. I'll be waiting."

Standing some distance away, but straight in front of the other Elf, she took off her shift, waited a moment to stand there, a hand on her hip, fully naked, taunting him to look. He kept his eyes locked on her face, but his sly smile was once again appearing on his lips.

"Now whom is toying with whom, Ennaly?" he asked, bypassing her bait, eyes locked on her eyes. "I do not lack in self-control."

"Really?" Ennaly replied, a wicked grin on her own face. "So last night was a grand display of self-control, was it? You started with tongue."

"Well, I did no such…" Solas started, almost flustered.

Her grin grew to a genuine smile of amusement, as she turned around, feeling Solas' eyes on her back, and jumped in the water, fully emerging herself.

She regretted her cheek at jumping in the water without much forethought. She didn't take her pack, a blanket or anything to the waterside, meaning she had to get out naked. She really did need to learn how to Fade-step like Solas, so she could easily hop around without being seen much, if she wanted.

To her dread, she noticed Bull and Dorian returning. Bull started to pack away their encampment, while she swam to a different shore, hoping to give herself some privacy in the reeds.

She got awoken out of her revery by Dorian's whistle. He had grabbed her pack and had a blanket ready for her to wrap in.

"Dorian, you're the best," Ennaly said, stepping out of the water and wrapping herself in the blanket, covering up.

"I know I am," Dorian replied, sitting down and making himself comfortable. "I just wanted to check in on you."

"I'm fine, thanks Dorian," she replied.

"Are you really?" he asked, looking at her concerned. "You can tell me if you're not. I'm ready to duel Solas for your honour if he hurt you."

"Might be amusing to see, but not necessary." Ennaly had a large grin on her face. She was glad to have Dorian around.

"Good. Because I would win, of course," he continued. "And you know, we don't really need any more Elven blood on Tevinter hands, do we?"

She was glad that finally he could joke about the subject instead of trying to apologize for whatever his people had ever done to hers. Ennaly stared over at the camp, at the other side of the pond, to Solas and Bull packing up. She dug a clean shift, breeches and linen wrappings from her pack, put the shift and breeches on and started to wrap her breasts for support, a meditative action she's performed hundreds of times by now.

"You know there are easier solutions for that," Dorian commented, glancing at her sideways.

"I tried your Human fashion. It was terrible. I could hardly bend enough to reach my toes."

"That was southern fashion. If only I could bring you to a true Tevinter boutique," Dorian sighed.

"Yes, I'm sure they'd dying to serve an Elf," Ennaly replied scornfully, now pulling a purple linen tunic over her head before she reached for her decorated belt. "And I don't need your weird contraptions, thanks, I like my own figure well enough."

"Our other Elf seemed to have admired it well enough, too," Dorian said with a grin. "I was holding guard, you know, yesterday evening. I nearly toppled over when you two both awoke at the same time and stomped off in the distance like some weird Elven ritual. I remember how you once looked at each other, in your hut in Haven, so I didn't feel like I had to interfere."

Ennaly sighed. Well, that explained the situation. "Well, it was just a one-off thing, really. Let's just call it a heat of the moment affair."

"Really? You think one heat of the moment affair won't be followed by another? All that tension needs a way out somewhere. I mean, the scratches on his back, oof..."

Ennaly was just a little bit embarrassed, bit couldn't supress a grin. "He certainly knew what he was doing, I need to give him that."

"Really? I wouldn't have thought."

Both of them looked the subject of their gossip, who was attaching his bedroll to his horse's saddle, then doing the same for Ennaly's. Clearly Dorian hadn't seen Solas near that damned torch in the Frostbacks in a field of diamonds, or he would have swallowed his words.

She took her dragon skin coat as her final article of clothing. Starting to braid her hair, she was reminded of something. "You've been with mages, have you not?" she asked Dorian.

"Well, yes, I have," he replied, not sure what was coming.

"Did anyone… ever use any magic in… you know, the act?"

Dorian raised his eyebrows. "Every trained mage knows that magic and emotions generally don't mix well, unless you know what you're doing. Leaves you more open for corruption, you know. There have been stories, one moment, you're entangled with another person, and the next… Well, you can imagine, I'm sure. You need an immense control over your magic for anything like that, and well… It's just not worth the risk, is it?" He squinted his eyes. "Why? Did anything happen?"

"No," she replied, lying. Her braid was now pinned in place on her head. "Just curious. Let's get back."

But his answer did make her think. Immense control over your magic. Well, Solas demonstrated that he did. Was he not afraid of the risks? Did he have such confidence in his abilities, and if so, what did he do to gain that certainty? His power really did run deeper than she thought before.

Author's Note: If you want to read this chapter plus parts of the previous one from Solas' POV, please look at my one-shot story "Faded Mistakes"! (I don't think I can paste links?)
Thanks for the reviews, you are the best!