Varric's Surprise

It took them a few days to get back to Skyhold. Ennaly felt changed. So much had happened in such a short period of time. Luckily, none of them once mentioned whatever happened that one night, but she couldn't shake the memories out of her mind. She mostly felt confused.

You should forget about me in this way, Ennaly, haunted her mind, but it was the best advice she could follow at the moment.

Besides that, the meeting with Anarel also hadn't been a happy occurrence. Together with her scar, she still felt shaken in her worldview. All in all, it might be good in to be back in the castle again, see a larger variety of people, and focus on tasks, and, no doubt, lessons.

It was midday when they brought their horses to the stables and Dennet mentioned that Varric had also just returned, and brought a friend with him. Solas, Dorian, Bull and Ennaly each went their own way to put their packs away and enjoy the fact they could spend time off a horse.

In her chambers, Ennaly quickly washed herself, dressed in a velvet tunic and went back down again. On the way up, she had already met Josephine, who would gather Leliana and Cullen in the war room. Down there, she debriefed them all on what happened in the Dales with Fairbanks. She told them about the Dalish clan, but only that they were now a potential ally. Leliana pressed her to tell more, so her scouts would know what to expect. She just said that the Keeper was particularly rude and that they had an unpleasant history. The look in Leliana and Josephine's eyes made her think they understood a lot more. She had never been that good at hiding facial expressions.

They continued planning for requests they received and started to outline the coming days, which would include lessons and dinners with the influential people. All Ennaly understood from that, what that spoons would play a more important role in the next few days that she had a care to.

"You should go find Varric," Leliana said when they were finished. "He's dying to introduce you to his friend. I have met him before, he's very charming. One warning, don't let Cassandra know. She's going to kill him."

On those words, Ennaly went to look for Varric. She actually found him waiting in Josephine's office, lounging in a chair before the fireplace.

"Good to see you, Varric! Everyone's been telling me you've brought a friend," she said.

"Our radiant Herald, it is good to see you," he replied. "I do have someone for you to meet. I didn't want to parade him around, it's better for you to meet privately, on the battlements."

So, Ennaly followed him, chatting about both of their journeys, until they reached their destination. All she could see at first was a tall man, back to them, looking out over the mountains. He was dressed in black and red. His dark hair reached his shoulders and was partly tied together.

He turned around when Varric cleared his throat, revealing a handsome, bearded face wearing a large grin.

"Inquisitor, meet Hawke, the Campion of Kirkwall," Varric said.

"Milady Inquisitor, it is a pleasure!" the tall man in front of her exclaimed.

"The pleasure is all mine," Ennaly replied, a bit starstruck. She'd read Varric's tale, and there he was, the man that had done all those things. "It isn't every day that you meet the hero of a tale."

Hawke made a small bow and extended his hand, expectant for her to place hers in it. Having understood this Human behaviour thanks to the etiquette lessons, Ennaly gave her hand, but instead of pressing a kiss on it as she expected, Hawke turned it around to stare at her palm.

"Varric, you've been telling stories again, there is no Divine light on her palm," he said.

Ennaly grinned and placed her other hand in Hawke's outstretched palm. "Different hand."

Feeling a flare for the dramatic, she channelled some magic through it to make it flare up.

"So how does this work, really?" he asked, interested, bringing her hand closer to his face. "It's like there's a hole punched right through you to the Fade."

"In a sense, yes."

"So, can you do tricks with it? Concentrate your mana to empower your spells?"

"Sadly no," Ennaly said with a sigh. "It's like it's disconnected from my spell mana, like a fork in the road. I can either choose to channel my regular magic, or use the mark. And it's one-directional as far as I've noticed. I can use it to hurt demons though, and it can close Fade rifts, so it's something."

"Well, it definitely comes in handy," Hawke concluded, flipping her hand over. He pressed a kiss against it before he released it, his beard tickling her skin. "It isn't every day you meet someone truly Divine."

"It isn't every day two of your apostate friends meet," Varric remarked with wonder. "I should have warned Curly to increase the guards, with the amount of bad luck you two have, I'm sure something weird will happen."

"Well, my saving days are over," Hawke said. "If anything bad happens, it'll be up to you, Inquisitor."

"Didn't you once save a city from a horde of rampaging Qunari?" Ennaly asked with interest, remembering the story.

"Didn't you physically step out of the Fade?"

Ennaly grinned. "It wasn't so impressive, really."

"I've been telling Varric for ages that stories always make the reality sound much more fantastic than it was."

"I do my best," Varric replied. "This is... Shit, this is weird. It's like two realities have merged together."

"You did this to yourself," Hawke commented.

"Well, besides your bad luck and tendency to save people, you have something else in common," Varric continued. "Having faced Corypheus."

"That includes you too," Hawke commented. "And also, already down to business, Varric, really? I was just enjoying this verbal duet with our lovely Inquisitor. Offer me a beer and I'll recount everything I know."

And like that, they headed to the Herald's Rest to share their information.

Two hours later, all stories were told and plans to go to Crestwood to meet Hawke's Warden ally Strout were made, and they had brought out the playing cards.

Ennaly had just lost another round – Hawke's explanations just confused her more rather than helping – when she heard a familiar voice behind her.

"Inquisitor? I heard you had returned and..."

Ennaly turned around. Cassandra stood near their booth, a shocked expression on her face as she was staring at Hawke, then looked at Varric, then at Hawke again.

"Ah yes," Ennaly said, but she didn't have Cassandra's attention anymore. "I have returned."

"You are the Champion of Kirkwall," she uttered, disbelieving her eyes, staring at Hawke.

He, sitting at the end of the booth, got up, and bowed suavely.

"Hawke, meet Cassandra. Cassandra, meet Hawke," Varric said, some apprehension in his voice.

"You are Varric's surprise," Cassandra said, still not over her shock.

"I don't think I need another title," the mage laughed. "You can call me Hawke. Everyone does. Pleasure, Milady Cassandra." He took her hand and kissed it. "Varric told me a lot about you."

Cassandra was turning pink and seemed to gather breath to regain her composure. She looked at Varric and Ennaly saw the look of anger she gave the Dwarf.

"We're planning steps against Corypheus," Ennaly said quickly, trying to dissolve whatever could emerge here. "Or well, we were, an hour ago. Now I'm being outplayed in cards. Do you want to join us?"

Cassandra seemed very unsure on what to do, but at insistence of all, and a charming word from Hawke, joined their table.

They spend three days in Skyhold before going off to Crestwood. Ennaly was quite busy in these days with duties, speaking with interested parties and lessons. Her normal dancing might not have been too formal or too structured, instead fuelled by intuition, it wasn't too hard for her to learn all the steps.

"I just don't see why I need to learn all of this," Cullen grunted. He had learned the steps of some of the dances, but it was lacking grace, the steps more reminiscent of a training exercise.

"It will be good for us to be more trained in the game!" Leliana said, guiding him around the dancefloor. If she had time, she liked to visit their lessons and sometimes join in, like she did now. "The dancefloor is a perfect place to gather information. Couples might share whispered words, under the impression they are not overheard by others, but if you dance close enough, you might be able to catch them. Besides, we will look much more established as an organization if we master this, especially since you are not Orlesian."

Ennaly twirled around at her dancing teacher's gesture at the last tunes of the violinist's song.

"Very good, Inquisitor!" the man said and Leliana cheered.

"She is a natural!" the dancing teacher happily supplied. "She will charm the nobles for sure!" His accent rolled heavily from his tongue.

Leliana seemed to agree, and Ennaly thought it was her only hope. She'd never be able to win anyone over by diplomacy and was even less likely to impress anyone with her poor manners.

"I do suggest trying the dance with partners of different height," the dancing teacher continued. "You will notice that it makes a slight difference. Commander, Inquisitor, if you please."

Ennaly regarded her Commander, who started to flush a little at this suggestion. She remembered how those words might have made her flush once, too. How much easier would it have been, if instead of growing affection for Solas, she had grown affection for Cullen?

But, she couldn't lie to herself, any affection she once held for him was gone. She did feel a pang of pity that he did not seem to have lost his. She knew the feeling, when Solas clearly did not want to push whatever they had between them. At least she had the memory of their night in the Dales.

And she knew of Cullen's struggles, as already hinted by Cassandra in Haven, that he was dealing with lyrium withdrawal. If only his eyes had fallen on a girl that could return their affection.

"Come on Commander, might I have this dance?" she asked with a smile. Perhaps she could help him get over it by just acting normally, like a friend. Acting awkward certainly wouldn't help anything.

"I don't want to step on your toes," he said, a little hesitant.

She still refused to wear human shoes, even for the dancing. She looked down at her toes, clean and with well-maintained nails and smiled. "I'm quick enough to jump out of the way if it comes close."

Cullen took her hand, and a little awkwardly put his hand on her back, before the violinist continued playing and the dancing teacher started to count notes and indicating the moves.

It was actually quite a nice time. He seemed to get a little looser after a few steps. When the lesson was over, she followed Cullen back to his office as she was intending on making a round on the battlements for fresh air. Chatting merrily, they passed through the rotunda, where Solas was sitting at his desk, scattered with books and papers. He looked up as the both of them entered.

"Hello, Inquisitor, Commander," he spoke as he saw them. His tone was neutral, somewhat pleasant.

"Hello Solas," she said, locking eyes for a second, feeling her heartrate increase. Cullen nodded in greeting.

"Any updates?" Solas asked, assuming they got back from the war room.

"No," Ennaly replied. "We just had dancing lessons. We're still set out to leave on the day after tomorrow."

If only he was a man that could be affected by jealousy. But even if he seemed the sort, she didn't want to make Cullen an accessory to whatever this was. The large fresco of her was visible above where Solas sat. She once had the image of him tracing those lines on her body, and now that that happened, she could not get it out of her mind.

"I see," Solas replied. "I will be ready. Good evening, Inquisitor, Commander."

"Good evening."

She bade Cullen goodbye in his office and went for a quiet round of the battlements, cooling off while the memory of hot lips on her neck haunted her mind.

Between duties the next day, she spent as much time with Dorian in the library as she could miss. Dorian had proclaimed he wanted to sleep in a real bed for a while and needed the library for some research he was undertaking regarding Corypheus. This meant that he wouldn't join them on their journey to Crestwood, which would be the first time without him since he had joined them. So, they spend time together, discussed theories and histories, while Ennaly wrote long letters to her mother and other befriended clan members.

Bull also declined for the next journey, instead wanting to join a mission with his Chargers. That meant that the journey to Crestwood would be Cassandra, Varric, Solas and Ennaly, joined of course by Hawke. If not for him, it was almost like the starting days when the four of them where all her party was, travelling to Redcliffe and Val Royeaux. Cassandra seemed to be torn between silent admiration for Hawke and anger towards Varric, but at least she wasn't outright hostile.

Before she left, Josephine pressed a bundle of a few books in her hands that she had to study, accounts of nobility and the heraldry of Orlesians houses and significance of masks, or signals made with fans. That way she could keep up with her lessons while on the road.

Hawke's personality was larger than life. He was charming and joked a lot, but seemed to carry a deep pain within him, hidden under layers of humour, tucked away. Ennaly could understand, after all he had lived through, judging from Varric's tale. He missed his Elf as he called Fenris. They'd be reunited when this was all over.

Him and Varric together were also the life of their evenings. Without them, Ennaly, Solas and Cassandra would have spent a lot of time in relative silence, like those early days. Cassandra would be to the side, reading a book or hitting a tree trunk to keep up with her training. Solas could sit still in meditation for hours. He wouldn't truly be asleep, he always aware of the surroundings, but Ennaly had no doubt he'd be perusing the Fade. At least she was glad things weren't awkward between them.

She had to read Josephine's book, of course, but had also taken some supplies from Skyhold to embroider a leaf and vine pattern on the collar of one of her linen tunics. It was just white thread on purple fabric, nothing too fancy, but the act reminded her of her mother. She had always kept her hands occupied, no matter what she was doing. It was a comforting task quietly singing to herself under her breath, and the white matched nicely with her dragon hide coat.

And then Hawke and Varric would declare it time for more fun. They'd get out the cards, and if they could get one, a bottle of drink. They'd play games and share stories. Varric and Hawke were both good, Ennaly and Cassandra were rather bad, and Solas, when he joined, usually won.

One night they decided to make camp near a broken watchtower. It looked several hundred years old and while they were setting up their camp, Ennaly asked out loud how it would have been in its glory days, and what mysteries it held.

Hawke, Solas and Ennaly ended up in a discussion about magic and theory. They had just closed a large rift earlier on the day and enjoyed how they all had their own main focus for offensive spells, with Hawke preferring fire, Solas ice and Ennaly lightning, so one of them could always overcome a demon's resistances. They revelled in the fact that none of them had ever been a circle mage or benefitted from "official" teachings, yet all turned out with perfect control over their magic. Cassandra clearly gave them a look of apprehension.

"So who's the strongest Inquisition mage?" Hawke asked.

Varric laughed. "I'm not going to burn myself on this one, before I get the wrath of any rained upon me."

Ennaly and Solas observed each other.

"Well, we can all agree Dorian has the most flair," she said.

"Which results in wasted spellpower," Solas added, Ennaly agreeing.

"So, what do you think?" she asked him, looking at him observantly.

"That I am very interested in hearing your assessment on this, Inquisitor," he replied, his smile daring her to speak up.

"What do we count here?" she started, narrowing her eyes. "If it's raw offensive damage, I might actually have the upper hand."

"Interesting, if that is what you believe."

She smiled. "Yes, that is what I believe. But if it's versatility, defence, of practical applications, I'll concede my loss."

"Just like that?" A shift in his eyes seemed to indicate he understood what she meant by practical applications.

"Just like that."

"So, offence versus defence then, who'd last longer in a fight?" Hawke grinned.

That made Ennaly flush. "Fine," she said, sighing, averting her eyes. "I'm confident enough to give Solas this win. But only because he's older and had more time to develop his skills. Just wait until I am your age, hahren," she shot at Solas, who had his eyebrows raised.

They shared a prolonged look while Ennaly imaged them in an actual fight, with his magic attacking her, when in her mind it turned to his magic teasing over her skin. Not the place to go.

"How do I love bickering with an Elf," Hawke sighed. "Though you're both less broody, and there's a whole lot less throwing of wine and less..." He trailed off with a happy but mournful sigh.

"Don't worry about him, Hawke, he will be fine," Varric said. "Worry instead on who's going to win this night's game. Wicked Grace, anyone?"

That night was the first time Solas visited her in the Fade again. When she opened her eyes in her dreams, she stood at the base of the tower, now fully upright, with Solas casually standing nearby.

"You wanted to know how it looked like," he said, a sly smile on his face as he observed her wonder. "So I thought to show you."

"How do I know you're not a demon out to trick me?" she asked.

"You can sense that it is me, if you reach out with your will. And also…" He looked up, encouraging her to do the same. Above them was a cloud shaped like a teapot.

Ennaly shook her head and grinned. She took a step closer, but not too close, and reached out with her magic. She encountered another source of magic. It was familiar to her, it had once teased her everywhere on her skin.

"Okay, so it is you," she concluded. She looked around with renewed interest, walking nearer to the tower. "Show off. I already declared you to be the better mage."

"I can just end this dream, if you prefer." Solas raised his arm in a gesture, and if was just an idle thread or not, Ennaly turned around to him, waving her hands.

"No!" she said. She couldn't help being impressed by this vision around her. "I do appreciate this. You can just do this wherever?" She looked back to Solas.

"If I have enough focus left," he replied, like it was no big deal.

"I mean, this is amazing." She placed her hand on the tree trunk in front of her. It felt like real bark. She then let her hands glide through the tall grass and took in the rustling sound it made. "And we can really just walk through this place, everywhere?"

He smiled and walked to the large wooden door. He opened it and gestured for her to enter. "Why don't you find out?"

Speechless with wonder, Ennaly entered the tower. She let her fingers glide over all the surfaces, stone, wood, fabric, everything felt real, just like it had in Haven. The big difference was that in Haven, everything had been familiar to her, and everything was new to explore.

The second time was after Ennaly, once again, spectacularly lost in Wicked Grace. When she opened her eyes in her dreams, she found herself in a tavern resembling the Herald's Rest, Solas casually sitting at a table, cards in front of him.

"This cannot continue," he said, not even looking up as he took the deck and shuffled. "I am going to teach you how to win." When he looked up to her as she sat down at the table, there was a mischievous smile on his face.

"I don't think it's really a skill to learn, like chess, is it?" Ennaly said, sitting down at the table. "I can't help it that I'm just very expressive."

Solas leaned back to observe her. "You do not have to hide your expressions. I can simply show you how to turn it to your advantage. It all depends on the cards you hold."

"I didn't think you were the type to take up on a lost cause, but sure, show me."

"You are not a lost cause," he said, dealing her a hand of cards. "This will not result in continuous success, but the first time you apply this, you will certainly win. I would enjoy the look on Varric's and Hawke's faces when they realize your victory."

The next evening when they were playing Wicked Grace, Solas had abstained from joining. Ennaly, bolstered by his teachings, won that night's game.

"Well, shit, you've actually done it," Varric said.

"Are you sure she's not a cheat, Varric?" Hawke asked incredulous.

"Are you accusing our Inquisitor?" Varric replied. "Our Inquisitor is many things, but she is no cheat. Is she?" he added, narrowing his eyes, looking at Ennaly.

"You dare accuse me, dear Dwarf?" she replied with a smile, pretending to be hurt by his words. "I didn't cheat. I simply must have learned it in a dream."

Her eyes found Solas' and they shared a smirk. The others would never know just how much truth there was in those words.

Author's Note: I'm still sad the game deprived us of any interaction between Hawke and Cassandra, so I'll just write it myself. That girl that definately has a crush.