Keeper to the Inquisition
A large wolfen statue of the Emerald Knights was watching over the four of them as they were having a midday break. Bull and Dorian were lounging in the sunlight on their backs, Solas was sitting in quiet meditation while Ennaly was surrounded by purple flowers, making a chain, softly singing in Elven to herself. The horses were tied to nearby trees.
When they had seen this clearing, Ennaly had declared it perfect for their break. The flowers were June's Lilies, named for their flexible stems that made them perfect to weave without breaking and their longevity after being picked. Instead of wilting, they dried beautifully. They reminded Ennaly of her childhood, when they would all sing and weave them together for the spring festival. She had a special love for them because their purple colour complemented her eyes so much, the petal colour inspired the colour of her Vallaslin.
"Did you choose that design on your cheeks?" Dorian asked suddenly, breaking the silence, so everyone looked up. He'd been watching Ennaly's craft. "All Dalish have it, right? Flattering as it is on your cheekbones, could you have chosen anything else?"
"What, my Vallaslin?" Ennaly asked, surprised, touching her cheek with her free hand. "Yes, I choose this. This represents honour to Mythal, the all-Mother, the protector of the People and she who brings Justice. She always seemed to represent my values in life, so I always knew this is what I wanted. I was chosen to be the First to the Keeper, so it would be my natural task to protect them all. It just seemed fitting to me."
She tied the stems in a circle and placed the flower crown on her head.
"And now it's like the you're the First of the Inquisition," Bull commented.
"You know a First is just the First in line, right, not the head of a clan? If anything, it's like I'm Keeper. I got a sword, but I should have gotten a Fen'Harel ring."
"The Dread Wolf," Dorian said, having read up on Elven history.
Ennaly looked at him appreciatively. "Keepers wear a Sylvanwood ring with a wolf head as a promise of protection." Her eyes fell on Solas, who seemed to stoically regard them from where he was sitting, and she remembered how he had always looked at her Vallaslin in displeasure. "And you probably disagree with all of this."
"I said no such thing," he said, affronted.
"You didn't have to, I could see it in your eyes," Ennaly said, standing up. "Let's go, before this wolf statue topples over, takes us all, and I fail my duties as Keeper to the Inquisition."
Ennaly felt good. It had taken them a few days on horseback to reach the Emerald Graves, but ever since they stepped out of Skyhold, she felt more at ease again. Less people around, no need for formal clothing or dinners with nobles, just her and her companions in the outdoor air, fighting demons, closing rifts, helping around, gathering information, and spreading word of the Inquisition.
After another hour of riding, they neared an open section with some farmland and a group of some farms.
"Something is wrong," Bull said as they were riding alongside the fields. "Why is there no one outside, tending to the land? It is too quiet here."
They all agreed, something was wrong. When they got nearer to the houses, they tied their horses to the fence to go and inspect.
As they passed the first house to have a view on the little square in between the houses, Ennaly gasped. There were bodies on the square, humans, their blood having stained the light dirt a dark ruddy brown.
"Who would do such a thing?" Dorian uttered in wonder as they walked through the carnage.
They bodies weren't dead for long, a day at most.
"Demons?" Bull suggested.
"I see arrows," Solas commented as they walked on.
Ennaly's eyes fell on the body of a little girl lying next to a woman with a similar hair colour. Tears rolled down over her cheeks.
"Whoever did this were demons," she said, kneeling down. "An innocent child?"
"Perhaps the civil war has reached this place too?" Dorian said. "I'm going to look for survivors."
Ennaly looked at the arrows that were piercing the bodies. Her vision blurred before her eyes. She recognized the craft of the arrows, the material used. They were very clearly…
"Dalish," Solas said, having inspected a loose arrow and throwing it aside. His voice was cold. "There must be a clan nearby."
Their eyes met, Solas' filled with cold anger, Ennaly's filled with disbelieving dread. She looked away. She felt shook to her core, like her world view was toppled over. What had happened here? A revenge? A raid?
With trembling hands, Ennaly reached out to close the glassy eyes of both mother and child.
"There don't seem to be any survivors," Dorian said, exiting one of the houses. "Everything is plundered."
"We have to leave," Bull grunted, cursing under his breath.
"Is there nothing we can do?" Ennaly begged.
"We cannot be found like this," Solas said.
Ennaly didn't want to believe it, what happened here. But if they were found like this… She bore the mark of the Dalish on her face, and no mark on her hand was going to save her.
With trembling hands, she took the crown of June's Lilies from her head and placed them on the head of the little girl. Dorian gently took her by the shoulders and guided her back their horses.
She followed the horse in front of her, hardly knowing whom it belonged to. She had to know what had happened here, or she couldn't live with herself. Nothing could justify the slaughter of an innocent child, but perhaps it was an accident? Perhaps this was a revenge because the humans took something, or someone, from the Dalish?
After an hour's ride, she got her wish.
"Halt," a voice spoke. From between the trees, green-and-brown clad people emerged, pointing arrows at them. "You cannot trespass here," a woman spoke, stepping in front of the others. As opposed to a bow, she was carrying a staff. A First?
"Anath ara," Ennaly spoke in greeting.
"You're Dalish?" the woman asked, looking at her.
Ennaly guided her horse past Bull's, so she was in front. He shot her a guarded look. He couldn't understand their Elven conversation.
"I am Ennaly, First of clan Lavellan, and Inquisitor to the Inquisition," she spoke in Elven. "I humbly request a safe passage for me and my companions to confer with your Keeper."
"I have heard of you," the woman said, answering in Elven. "I am Lamaira, First of clan Nomaris. We will honour your request. Follow." She was young, barely 20, with the lines of Falon'Din on her face.
Nomaris. She had known the previous First of that clan when she herself was as young as this girl. It wasn't a happy thought, and if he was Keeper now… It was too late to return now, the Dalish probably wouldn't let them go now and besides, she had to know what had happened at the farms.
"I hope you know what you are doing," Solas hissed softly next to her, having guided his horse next to her. Out of her companions, only he was able to understand the words they had spoken.
"I have to know," she hissed back. "I'll get us out of here. Trust me."
"You are the inquisitor," he said, before he halted his horse to ride next to Dorian, likely to relay the message.
She knew very well that none of her companions were all too happy to be here, but in this moment, no matter what Solas said, she felt more like First of clan Lavellan than she was Inquisitor.
After a short ride they entered the Dalish encampment, passing the statue of Fen'Harel. Even though the faces were unfamiliar, the sight of the aravels and familiar decoration bolstered her spirits. She passed an aravel that was so decorated with dried June's Lilies, you could hardly see the wood. It reminded her of her mother's aravel, and the way she would decorate it as a child. It had been too long since she felt in a familiar place, and this calmed her. The familiar scents of spices and plants thrown in the fire brought back memories of less worrisome times.
Around, there were the familiar sounds of a group of laughing women weaving baskets, a fletcher making arrows, a group of children listening to a teacher, cooks preparing food near a large open fire, the familiar hum of arrows speeding to a mark on a tree as archers were training nearby.
She could almost trick herself, if she closed her eyes for a few moments and opened them, she would surely see her mother among the weavers, her hair braided on top of her head, decorated with feathers, June's Vallaslin on her face.
They alighted the horses, gave them to the care of the halla master, and followed Lamaira.
"Is this like you used to live?" Dorian asked in wonder, as he was observing all around him.
"Very similar, yes," she replied.
"Remarkable," he said. "I hope you can get us out of here again too, though. Before they shoot me for the lack of a pointed ear."
"I'll protect you," she spoke, mimicking the words he spoke to her when they were just blasted forward in time. And indeed she saw why he felt so uncomfortable. All around, lined faces looked towards them, mostly at Bull and Dorian. They had likely never seen a Qunari before and held apprehension for a human in their midst. Then her eyes fell on a sight she did not want to see.
The man in front of her was familiar. Ten years older than she had seen him last, in his forties now, he was still as handsome as he'd been before. He'd shaved the sides of his head and in the centre was an intricate, blonde braid decorated with wooden beads and feathers that reached to his mid-back. On his face were Elgar'nan's signs in a deep green, matching his eyes. There was a time where she had thought it romantic, both of their Vallaslin matching their eyes, the all-mother and all-father together.
And now he was wearing a Keeper's coat. It looked good on his toned frame, the green colour matching his Vallaslin and eyes well. He rose from his chair after sharing a few whispered words with Lamaira. He saw how his hand was placed on her waist as she spoke into his ear. He hadn't changed, clearly.
"Keeper Anarel Nomaris," she spoke in a curt greeting.
"So Lady Inquisitor, they call you now," Keeper Anarel said, laughing. "I have heard of you. Who thought it was little old Ennaly Lavellan all along! You're no lady."
"And you're no lord," Ennaly responded, already dreading every word of this conversation. "That still leaves me with Inquisitor."
"Interesting bunch of companions you travel with," Anarel continued, his eyes gliding over each of them. "A shemlen mage, a mindless brute and a..." His eyes stopped on Solas. To her delight, he had to look up. "Flat-eared circle..."
"I suggest you do not insult any of my companions," Ennaly said sharply, shooting a worried eye at Solas. All of this was her fault, they didn't want to be here, Solas least of all. It would have been so much easier if he had not known how to speak Elven.
"Greetings, Keeper," Solas said. "I have to correct you, I am not a circle mage."
"You speak Elven?" Anarel asked, clearly surprised.
"Anyone with a desire for knowledge can learn a language," Solas replied, keeping up a respectful appearance. Ennaly wished she could have told him to keep his mouth shut, not showing that he could understand them, because she was sure that this meant he'd get insult flung at him.
"Tell me," Anaral started, a cocky smile on his face. He shot a short look to Ennaly before looking back to Solas. "Does she still squirm when you lick..."
"I don't think that requires finishing, does it," Ennaly said hastily, hating the man. Of course, worse than just insults, he had to throw insult to humiliate her as much as possible. They hadn't parted on good footing, those ten years ago. She saw Solas raising his eyebrows on this comment, giving her a quick side glance she didn't quite meet.
"I simply assumed you replaced me with the next available Elven mage," Anaral said, still a cocky smile on his face. "Must have been sad to realize you couldn't find a Dalish one."
"Don't flatter yourself," Ennaly replied haughtily. "Whatever you left behind did not require replacing. Solas here is my companion, like the others are. We are here on Inquisition business."
"Really?" Anarel continued. He looked at Solas in an appraising way, and before he could hurl more offensive words in his direction, Ennaly spoke.
"I had hoped for a polite conversation, to confer, Keeper to Keeper. You can consider me Keeper to the Inquisition, after all."
"And so you shall have," Anarel spoke, stretching his hands wide, in a mocking bow. Still with a fondness for theatrics, seemingly. He spoke to some Elves at his side, who nodded and started to walk around, gathering things to create a conversation area.
"I am so sorry," Ennaly said to Solas while a meeting space was being created and refreshments brought.
"It is he who should be sorry," Solas replied, staring daggers at the back of the Keeper's head.
"What did he say?" Dorian asked. Him and Bull couldn't understand the Elven they spoke.
"Nothing that bears repeating," Ennaly hissed back. "He likes baiting people."
"I take it you know him," Bull observed.
"Regrettably, yes," she replied. "Moment in my past I'd like to forget, when I was young and naïve and easily influenced by a handsome face and false sweet words. He was at my clan for a few months when we were both Firsts, for sharing knowledge."
"Ah," Dorian commented when he understood her unspoken words. He observed the Keeper, now busy giving orders to others. "I suppose he is rather ruggedly handsome."
"He's also a swine," Ennaly added with heat.
"What happened?" Dorian continued.
"I found out he whispered the same sweet nothings to a couple other girls. Yes, I know I was foolish, I was young. Afterwards, he had a hard time understanding the meaning of no."
"And you are sure you want to talk to him?" Solas asked apprehensively. Out of the four of them, he least looked like he wanted to be there.
"Yes," she replied with a sigh. "I'm not here on personal business now. He's older now, and Keeper of this clan. Look... I'm sorry, I know none of you want to be here, but I need this. Please just give me one hour. They might have information."
"You are the Inquisitor," Solas said again, clearly disagreeing with her.
Bull narrowed his eyes and looked around, observing everything around him with the sharp eyes of the Ben-Hassrath. The group of children were no longer listening to their teacher but were instead ogling him, having never seen anyone like him. Bull looked at them, and the children seemed to be torn between fear and curiosity, not sure which one to win out. He made a funny face and some of the kids were jumping up and down in laughter.
Perhaps it wouldn't be all too bad. No matter the situation, it felt good to be in the camp, being offered food that was familiar and could be eaten without needing to know the order of little spoons to use, all faces around with pointed ears and coloured lines. They couldn't really be so barbaric as killing innocent children, could they?
Author's Note: We'll be making some trips outside of the cannon for the sake of the story. For all the "darker" sides of the Dalish mentioned in the books or in speech, the Dalish in the games are never represented as such. And well, Ennaly needs some new point of views!
Also, if you know someone like Anarel, you have my sincere sympathies.
