Author's Note: If you have severe arachnophobia, skip over some parts in the first part here. It explains why our Inquisitor is so afraid of spiders.
Lathbora viran
It felt like they had travelled half the world and back. They met Stroud in Crestwood, and via Skyhold, went to the blazing hot desert of the Western Approach. A few times, when they passed ruins, Solas would show Ennaly the place in its glory days in the Fade. She loved it, loved running her fingers over stones lost to memory, feel the touch of fabrics long since disintegrated or imagine the lives of the people that had lived there or build it.
"A cat must have scratched this doorpost!" she'd observe. "A cook burned the pie. What a beautiful necklace to wear. Look at that painting! He certainly looks grumpy. Imagine having to scrub all these floors!"
Solas usually just observed her, listened to her ponderings, or indulge in her make-belief stories of the people that used to dwell there. Sometimes he could tell her stories of things he had learned on previous visits. These night-time adventures certainly were more entertaining than their daily adventures, sitting on horseback for hours at an end, and having to traverse a hot sandy desert.
After facing Erimond in the Approach, they bade goodbye to both Hawke and Stroud. With six turned to four, they started their return to Skyhold with the idea that they would need to lay siege to Adamant.
The first night they camped again, they found a grassy patch near a small natural well. They were glad to not have to sleep in the sand for another day, because that got everywhere.
The pond wasn't that large, so they took a wash in turn, glad for the water to wash away the sand.
There was no reason to fully dress in all layers again when they were winding down for the night, so after her wash, Ennaly had her breeches on and wanted to grab her tunic, the one that she had finished embroidering, when she saw something on her tunic that made her shiver in fear. Using one arm to cover her breasts, she waved the other around. "Get it away, get it away!" she yelled.
A few seconds later, the others ran near, staff, crossbow and sword in hand, staring at her like they'd expect her to face a quillback or a varghest, but instead, there was nothing to see. They stared at Ennaly, barely covered, cowering in fear, pointing at her purple tunic on the ground.
"Our illustrious Inquisitor is afraid of spiders?" Varric said incredulously.
"Just get it away!" she yelled, shivering when she saw the critter starting to crawl.
Cassandra and Solas relaxed their pose as Varric took the spider away and tossed her the tunic. She grabbed it and shook it to make sure no more spiders were attached, then turned around to pull it over her head. Now dressed, her face red, she turned to face her companions.
"We have fought giant spiders before," Solas said, amused.
"They're not as creepy as the tiny ones," she said, trying to put some decorum back in her voice.
"A lot more lethal, though. These small ones just... crawl."
She paused. "When I was travelling to the conclave, I had to be careful. So, one night, I slept in a tree. There must have been a spider nest nearby. So, when I woke up at dawn, the spiders were everywhere. Really, I can still feel them crawling all over..." She shivered again. "I jumped out of the tree, stripped, and ran to the nearby river. I believe I scared a shepherd too, who had just started his day."
"Pale naked Elf screaming and running to a river? Would've scared anyone," Varric laughed.
"Well, if this had happened to you, you wouldn't be fond of spiders either." She shivered again at the memory, then considered the others with narrowed eyes. "If any of you uses this against me... Certainly there must be some creepy crawlies that scare you."
"Maggots," Cassandra said resolutely.
"See? I'm not the only one. Well, Solas, the water is all yours," Ennaly said, starting to go back to the camp.
"I shall try and not be eaten by spiders," he noted dryly.
Back at camp, Ennaly once again opened her books from Josephine to study heraldry and masks, until she got bored, an hour later, sighed dramatically and looked around the campfire. They were all doing what she expected: Solas meditating, Cassandra reading, and Varric writing.
"Will you all join me at Halamshiral?" she asked.
They all looked up from their activities.
"Considering what is at stake, yes, I will join you," Cassandra said. "Though I refuse to wear whatever Leliana and Josephine doubtlessly have in mind."
Ennaly grinned, sympathizing with the Seeker.
"If anything, it will be a great source of inspiration for my next novels," Varric said. "What other chances do I have of observing a grand Orlesian ball?"
"I cannot say the idea does not fascinate me," Solas remarked, to Ennaly's surprise. She would have expected him to despise the very idea.
"Well, you can all join me then," she said with a smile. "Though I cannot deprive Dorian's chance of an evening of finery. I hope we can get enough invitations."
"Are you looking forwards to it, then?" Cassandra asked.
Ennaly mused. "Am I looking forward to face the Empress who purged the Elves of Halamshiral, in that very place? Hardly."
A tense silence grew in the camp.
"My sincere apologies," Cassandra said. "I cannot imagine..."
Ennaly sighed. "Sorry, I should not have started that. But don't worry, I am not one for revenge, not like..." She thought of Anarel, and the children he had killed. "I regret the Empress' actions, but I understand what is necessary here. The chaos that will ensue if Corypheus triumphs will affect more than just Elves. I remember my promise when I was declared Inquisitor. I will try and take care of all who cannot take care of themselves, not just the Elves."
"Thank you," Cassandra said. "I admire your goals, despite the difficulties."
"I know faith is important to you. You know I don't keep your Maker, but my Goddess..." She touched her Vallaslin, trying to ignore the scar that now ran through it. "Mythal is the Great Protector of the People. I try to lead the Inquisition the same way I would lead my clan. She values justice, motherhood, love... I just apply that in a different way now."
"She sounds like a Goddess worthy of admiration," Cassandra said, just a little bit stiffly.
"I just hope she agrees with the choices I have made, so far."
"As I hope the Maker agrees with mine."
In that moment, he appreciation for the Seeker grew. They might not be too different, after all.
She stood up, clapped her hands together and walked to Varric. She extended her hand.
"Come on," she said. "I've played along with your card games, now it's time for you to play along with my entertainment, dancing. Will be good practise for the ball."
"You want me to dance?" Varric said, looking up at her. "You know I will just step on your toes."
"Cullen said the same. You all obsess too much about Elves toes," she replied.
"Oh? Been enjoying some dancing with our dashing Commander?" Varric said with a knowing smile.
"As much as I would enjoy dancing with you, dear Dwarf," she said, glad that her blush was less visible in the dark.
"Can't you dance with Solas? Isn't that what you Elves do, prancing in the moonlight? He'd be more graceful than I am."
"Don't sell yourself short, Varric."
"I am short."
"Well, that's perfect, the teacher said to dance with partners of different sizes. They'll be glad I practised. Dancing is my best shot at charming nobles, after all, since I don't see my abysmal manners working in my favour. See it as a service to the Inquisition."
"Fine, I'll entertain you, but don't get your hopes up. I'm not any good."
Ennaly took Varric's hand and started to teach him the moves of a simple dance while counting to a one – two – three.
"Do you really enjoy this then, this dancing?" Cassandra asked, observing the dance when Varric had finally memorized a small routine, making it clear that she did not.
"Yes," Ennaly said. "It's just rhythmic, isn't it? And rhythmic things make sense, they come naturally. Like your heartbeat, or the cycle of the sun or the moon, the seasons... The easiest way to master something is to find a rhythm in it, and once you've mastered that, it becomes like a second nature. And then you can just lose yourself in it, and yes, I think that's enjoyable. It's a bit like casting spells, controlling the rhythm. Isn't that what your sword fighting is for you, like steps to a dance?"
"I suppose, but you make it sound so much more romantic," Cassandra said.
"It's one of the ways I learned to master my magic, really, it's more difficult than it might look..."
Thumb and forefinger pressed together, she drew small threads of lightning from the Fade, nothing offensive, just faintly glowing purple lines of humming and buzzing energy. It hung in the air in front of her, lazily suspended. She moved her fingers and the frequency of the humming changed, the lines slowly moving like a ripple in water. Then, she drew another line, and one more, all humming to a different note, creating a small joyful tune. It was soft, a mere whisper, but it caried to all sitting around the campfire, just audible above the crackling of the flames.
"Get your magic in a stable rhythm and keep it there, match your steps to it, and you can dance to your own music, training both your mind and your body. As you master your magic, add more tunes to the rhythm. Magic can be more than just a loud flash and boom."
She took a few steps and spun around, the lines of energy following her movement like small ribbons of light, matching the speed of her feet with the tune she created, before she stopped and everything faded away.
"It took me months to create a single stable tune for the first time. Probably not the way they teach you to master your magic in a Circle, but really, what better way is there?"
Cassandra just looked at her, not quite sure if she needed to be impressed or disapprove.
"That is how the ancient Elves would sometimes weave spells," Solas remarked, having observed in silence. There was almost a reverence in his voice. "A dance, or a spell, could last for weeks, but opposed to merely creating tunes, it could shape a mountain or re-route a river. Sometimes multiple Elves would come together to weave their magic together and alter a landscape."
It conjured beautiful images in her mind, Elves dancing, clad in wisps of incandescent fabrics, dancing in a valley to create a waterfall. The Dalish might try so hard to remember, but they couldn't even understand all marvels that were lost to time.
"Lathbora viran," she spoke mournfully.
"What now?" Varric asked.
"It's Elven. Roughly translates to yearn for something one can never really know," Ennaly said. "I can never truly know how my ancestors practised magic. It just sounds so beautiful."
"And now you're just making me sad," Varric said and sat down again, looking at Solas. "Your turn, Chuckles, I've had enough dancing for one evening. Cheer her up, would you. Your words made her sad."
"Oh, you don't have to..." Ennaly said hastily, turning to Solas, but he had already gotten to his feet.
"It is a service to the Inquisition, is it not?" he said, walking over to where she stood.
He held out his thumb and forefinger too, and pulled a green-blue tinted string of energy from the Fade, orchestrating it to a tune. Ennaly stared at him.
"Are you sure that this is safe?" Cassandra said apprehensively.
Solas turned to her. "Seeker, you train your sword hand to keep in shape. We mages need to train our magic, too. But, for your comfort, we can move elsewhere."
Cassandra couldn't find anything to remark about that, so just watched them as Solas and Ennaly's walked a distance away, to the other side of the little pond.
"You don't have to..." Ennaly repeated her earlier words when they were out of earshot of the others.
"I know I do not have to," Solas said softly. "But I want to."
When he had found a place, he drew a new line of energy in silence, letting the tune sing. He looked at her, and she understood his gaze, silently beckoning for her to join. So, backs together, she, too, drew a line of energy, and then another, slowly turning around so the lines encircled them. Purple and blue-green mixed together, her tones filled with joy, compassion and longing, while Solas' tones carried dignity, sadness and hope. The tunes likely weren't loud enough to reach back to the camp, but the light they emitted would be, reflecting in the pond.
"It is astonishing to see you practising such old magics," Solas said as he watched the lines intertwine. "I have seen you dancing with snowflakes, but this is something else."
"It's just a trick, isn't it?" Ennaly said, unsure how to react to this praise. "I've never moved a mountain. But, I usually don't do this when there are spectators. Like in Haven with the snowflakes, I was under the assumption that I was alone. It's quite convenient to have such a large room in Skyhold, it's large enough to dance around in."
He looked at her with some reverence in his eyes and a smile on his lips. "It is comforting to see that something is still left."
"You can do this, too," she replied.
"Yes, but I have... seen this before."
"In the Fade, yes, I know. But I am Dalish, am I not? We're not all spiteful like Anarel's clan. There are many of us that have something worth honouring. We try and preserve the memories of the ancient ways."
"Perhaps I have misjudged them," Solas replied, looking her, still the look of reverence on his face.
"Perhaps you have," Ennaly said, looking at their intertwining ribbons of energy. It had something intimate, something teasing, how the lines would dance around each other to their own frequency, slowly harmonizing to a beautiful rhythm.
Without saying anything more, Solas extended his hand and Ennaly took it. The energy that surrounded them seemed to tingle on her skin where they touched. Solas let them to a dance, guided by soft music of their own creation, a reflection of their souls. It was no dance with learned steps like the Orlesian dances she had to practise to master, pompous and formal, but instead guided by intuition. It felt primal, like something in her soul just understood how her body should move, and this was all that mattered, in this moment there was no concept of time, it could last an eternity.
"You are crying," Solas' voice sounded and only when he ran his thumb over her cheek to wipe away a tear, did she notice he was right.
She was taken aback. She lost the concentration on the tunes and the purple lines slowly faded away. "We try to remember, but so much is lost. Who are we kidding? We cannot shape a mountain." She was silent for a bit, listening to the tunes. "And it's your music. You carry so much sadness."
"I apologize," he said. "I did not intend it like that."
"It's okay," she replied, looking up at his face. "You don't have to carry that sadness by yourself. I'm not Cole, I cannot take it away. But I don't mind sharing a bit."
He looked at her, tenderness in his eyes. "Varric said I had to cheer you up. I do not intend to burden you with my sorrow."
"But why do you feel –" Ennaly started, before a yelp escaped her mouth.
Solas had changed his tune to something happy and quick and he spun her in a circle.
"Keep up, Ennaly," he said as he twirled her around.
They were spinning and laughing and getting out of breath by the exercise. After some time, they slowed down and Solas' tunes also faded away. Knowing she shouldn't do it, Ennaly rested her head on Solas' chest. He didn't protest, softly panting, his arms still around her from the dancing. She was listening to his rapid heartbeat as she was catching her breath, musing on how good this had felt.
"This was fun," she said. "Thank you."
Solas just smiled at her with a touch of something gentle in his eyes. One of his hands moved from her back to her neck. The moonlight shone on his face, which made his expression even more affectionate. He leaned over her, their foreheads touched.
They parted and shared a look, before Solas pulled her closer against him, their chests fully touching, then went back for a kiss. They paused just before their lips met.
"Is this what you want?" Ennaly asked softly, her eyes still closed. "Are you not going to push me away after?"
Solas was silent, seemingly contemplating her words. A few seconds passed, their breath mingling together, their forms only illuminated by moonlight.
"I can't do this, Solas," she said when he didn't answer, and pulled away. "I can't let you kiss me and then turn away again. I can't do maybe, but I can do no. Next time you hold me like this, you've better made up your mind. You know what I want."
She extended a hand and trailed it over his jaw to emphasize her longing. For a moment, he closed his eyes and leaned into it.
"It will be kinder in the long run." His voice was a mere whisper.
"Well then, what are we doing here," she said, her voice steeled, pulling her hand away.
For a moment it seemed like Solas was going to say something and pull her back to him, but Ennaly pushed away fully, and turned around without looking at him. Shielding her feelings, she started to walk back to the camp, conjuring a smile so the other camp members wouldn't notice something was amiss. Perhaps she could bluff, after all. Solas followed her, just two steps behind her, in silence. She didn't know what the other had seen, but at least their near-kiss was in approximate darkness.
"Well, at last we have the answer," she said, when they entered the range of the firelight again. Her voice radiated a joy she did not feel. "He might be the better mage, but I am the better dancer."
It wasn't true, not really. He was an excellent dancer, just like herself, but she had to say something upon their return.
"If only Sparkler was here," Varric noted, looking up. He was holding a feather pen and was writing in a notebook. "Elves dancing in the moonlight, he would be besides himself with glee. Now, what was that Elven phrase again?"
"Are you making notes?" Ennaly asked, observing the Dwarf.
"Of course," Varric said. "Ennalath and Solith just spend a month together in a dance to create their perfect idyllic mountain valley. They don't yet know of the horror what is coming, but at this moment they are perfectly happy together."
"Really, Varric, Ennalath? Does she happen to have long blonde hair?" Ennaly asked, looking unimpressed, her heart hurting inside.
"And a freckled nose, yes. You're just good inspiration, don't take it personal," he continued. "Someone could never get closer to experiencing some ancient Elven magic than whatever that dance you did was. You got all glowy and Elfy near that pond. I swear, the Seeker almost had to wipe away a tear."
"I did not!" Cassandra interjected, affronted, putting her book down.
"Now, what's that phrase?" Varric continued, ignoring her.
"Lathbora viran," Solas provided, his voice seemingly devoid of emotion.
"Thanks, Chuckles."
A yearning for something one can never really know.