In A Manner of My Choosing
By Pyreite
Rituals and Revelations
It was a strange thing to watch the man she'd loved stand over the woman wearing her face. Although the memory was several thousand years old. It was perturbing to see it unfold. Ellana had only once heard such rage in Solas's voice. An excursion to the Exalted Plains had ended in bloodshed.
A spirit of wisdom had died there. And Ellana had seen Solas commit murder to exact justice. The apostates had never known whose path they'd crossed. It was a small blessing in light of what Fen'Harel had shared. Ellana compared what she'd witnessed in that glade to what she saw now.
The way Solas stood over Melana made her think back to that time in the Fade. He had seemed distant then, as if something had troubled him, though he'd never shared his burdens. She had worried for him after that impulsive kiss. Solas had reacted with surprise and then with a passion she'd not thought him capable of. That same passion burned as he stood over her double.
Melana's composure was disconcerting to watch. She licked her bleeding lip and Ellana saw her grimace when she tasted her own blood. The way she frowned at Solas, as if she were seeing him for the first time, showed the depth of her distaste. The shake of her head revealed her disappointment. Ellana expected anger not a sigh of resignation.
"Why am I not surprised", replied Melana. "You were born in the shadows of the Evanuris. One of them raised you up from nothing and put you on a pedestal to be worshipped. You became her prized bauble – a pet on a leash – an example by which she could inspire devotion. And in losing your patroness – the one person who believed in you – was to lose everything worth living for".
Melana's words took Solas by surprise. Ellana saw his grey eyes widen in shock and then in horror when she nodded. That simple gesture of understanding made his head shake back and forth as if in denial. Melana's brows arched in sympathy as she took her fuming daughter in her arms. She held tight whilst Arille hissed and spat like an irate feline.
"Mythal saved me from a life of poverty too". Melana kissed her daughter's hair and looked Solas in the eye. "That one gesture of kindness earned my love. And I devoted my life to her in the only way I knew how. I swore an oath of service and I drank from the Vir'abelasan".
Solas studied the vallaslin upon her face.
Only the servants of Mythal wore the twining trunk and branches of the Dahl'amythal. Melana, like her brother Abelas, had the same mark inked into her skin. Upon her brow, temples, and cheeks spread the leafless boughs of the Dahl'amythal. A line down the bridge of her nose to her lips represented the trunk. And the roots, twisting like a sprig of thyme, entangled upon her chin.
"You made yourself a slave to Mythal's will?" asked Solas.
Ellana heard the incredulity in his voice. He couldn't believe she had willingly enslaved herself out of love. Marriage was a similar bonding. Ellana had heard the wedded men of Haven joke about being yoked to a ball-and-chain for the rest of their lives. The chain being their marriage and the ball their wives.
The shemlen were a strange folk. Marriage was sacrosanct to the Dalish, something to be cherished. Yet try as she might to plan a future. Ellana had wedded neither Solas nor his brother in spirit – Fen'Harel. A sudden terrible sense of foreboding told her that Melana hadn't had the pleasure either.
It was with a troubled heart that she watched Melana nod in affirmation of her pledge to Mythal.
"I did".
"Why?" demanded Solas.
Melana's humble smile made Solas's breath catch in his throat. Humility was the opposite of pride. Melana was vulnerable as she reflected upon what they had in common. That single selfless emotion often bound one person to another without shackles or chains. Ellana knew it well.
"I loved her and I did what I feltwas right".
Ellana knew when Solas's resolve wavered. His cheeks flushed and his brows furrowed. He seemed conflicted for a moment, as if uncertain, until resignation took hold. Ellana saw him shake his head as if to dispel his anxiety. His pride returned and with it a determination to do something drastic.
"Nae!" spat Solas. "You and I are not alike! You chose a life of servitude! And I became Mythal's equal! She is dead and must be avenged!"
Melana shook her head. "Your pride will be your undoing", she warned Solas. "And my love's as well. Fen'Harel will pay the price for your selfishness. He will hate you all the days of his long and lonely life until we are reunited. I know you intend to make and end of me".
"You do not belong here!" hissed Solas. "And you will never see my brother again!"
Melana's smile was full of sadness. "That is not for you to decide. I will return to him, though the waiting will be long. Centuries will pass before I walk in the waking world again. And in that time, when the world is broken and ready to be renewed, I will come for you Solas".
He laughed. "And what will you do?"
Melana exhaled a weary breath. "I will make an end of this farce. I promise you. And Thedas will weep as it breaks in two. And you will suffer a broken heart and all the pain it brings".
Ellana gasped when the ground began to glow. She recognised the concentric circles of the Glyph of Paralysis. Melana was on her knees, with Arille in her arms, as Solas cast the spell. Both were frozen, still as stone, by a corona of light. Arille sniffled when Melana whispered.
"Forgive me, ma da'vhenan".
"Mamae?"
"I will not see you again for a very long time".
Arille's composure crumbled and the tears rolled down her cheeks.
"Don't leave me!"
"Hush, ma da'vhenan. Be good. Be strong. And always remember. Ar lath ma".
Ellana's heart was in her throat when Melana kissed Arille's temple. Her smile was full of love as she laid a hand over her daughter's eyes. She pressed her cheek against her blond curls and pursed her lips. The glyph immobilised her legs but left her arms free. Melana rocked the child, back and forth, as she hummed a lullaby.
Ellana frowned when Solas spoke. The words were elvish though the dialect was strange and unfamiliar. She didn't understandthe words of the spell he wove. She recognised the artefact he withdrew from inside his robe. It lay in the palm of his hand and was as round as a robin's egg.
"The Orb of Destruction!" hissed Ellana. She glanced from Melana and Arille to Solas. "What is he doing?"
"You will see", promised Fen'Harel. "The worst is yet to come".
Ellana quietened. She watched Solas speak his incantation. The air shifted and the tent's canvas walls flapped in an unnatural breeze. Ellana knew the instant the spell took hold. Melana's head fell back against her shoulders.
Her voice went silent and her fingers slipped from Arille. Ellana heard the child scream when her mother's eyes rolled backward. Melana toppled over – crumpling like a marionette – her strings cut. She hit the ground and the Glyph of Paralysis changed from a vibrant green to an angry fire-red. Arille squealed when she was shoved from the circle.
She fell over sobbing and Ellana's hands flew to her mouth. She saw a mark on the child's back though Melana had never touched her. Arille rolled away, face wet with tears, and Ellana saw the mark again. It was red, glistening, and seeping into the shirt across her back. Four fingers, a thumb, and the palm of a hand had pushed Arille aside.
Ellana spied Melana's limp left hand upon the ground. Her fingers and palm were wet with blood though she hadn't raised a hand to save her child. Yet somehow the imprint on Arille's back remained. And the circle entrapping Melana sapped her life like a parasite. Ellana watched as blood flowed in rivulets from her twin's eyes, nose, and mouth.
"Fenedhis lasa!" swore Ellana. "His spell is killing her!"
Fen'Harel nodded. "Solas meant to use Arille too. If not for my love's intervention. He would have succeeded. And our da'vhenan would have died alongside her mother".
"Melana saved her".
"She did".
And through it all Ellana heard the man she'd loved chant in elvish. The language was beautiful though the effect was macabre. Arille wept whilst her mother died. And each ring of that fire-red circle filled to the brim with Melana's blood. Ellana realised what Solas was doing with sudden terrible clarity.
"I've seen this before". She grabbed Fen'Harel's wrists and squeezed hard enough to bruise. "First in the Western Approach and then at Adamant Fortress". Ellana was horrified as she watched the ritual unfold. "It's a binding circle made with blood magic. Solas is using Melana as a blood sacrifice".
Fen'Harel's grip on her tightened.
"He is. And now you know, with certainty, why I hate him".
Ellana sucked in a breath when she heard Arille whimper. The wind whipped into a frenzy as Solas cast the foci into the air. It seemed to float, light as a feather, as he invoked the name of the spirit he wanted to imprison. Ellana's breath hitched. She knew to whom he called.
"Garas ma, Fen'Harel!"
And behind her, the spirit given that name, trembled like a leaf.
Ellana's fingers entwined with his own when the candles extinguished. Light fled, plunging them into darkness. Ellana heard Arille sniffle. She smelt the metallic tang of fresh blood. And for a tense moment it was as if the world fell silent. Something compressed the space between her ears, stealing all sound, leaving her deaf.
Ellana couldn't hear herself breathe, but she could sense something wasn't right. And before her, in a rush of hot air, were a multitude of blood-red eyes. A shape coalesced in the darkness. Ellana felt the brush of fur against her cheek. She stiffened when those red eyes turned upon her.
A familiar voice filled her mind.
Vhenan?
He sounded more confused than afraid.
Iras ma?
Ellana pursed her lips to reply and found herself unable to utter a word. Her tongue was heavy inside her mouth – an organ now useless – a soundless piece of flesh. And still she heard Fen'Harel cry out in the darkness. The longer Melana was silent – the more desperate he became. Ellana bit her lip when the air grew icy cold.
Vhenan! Ir enfanim! Iras ma!
She was exhaling puffs of mist when – in a blinding flash – daylight returned. She squinted in her blindness, vision blurry. And cursed when her feet slid forward than back. The ground was slippery as if covered by a sheet of ice. Ellana would have fallen if not for the strong arms around her waist.
Fen'Harel held her steady until her sight cleared. She gaped when she saw what Solas had done. The ground was awash in gore. The walls of his tent were splattered with red. Tiny Arille, weeping into her mother's chest, was soaked from head to toe.
And Ellana saw her twin's pallid face. Her dead staring eyes – focused on nothing – lifeless yet open wide. Her long blond hair was matted with blood – all of it her own. Arille bawled and across the tent, with his robes smeared and filthy, stood Solas. Ellana hated him as he lifted the Orb of Destruction high.
It glowed red as if a furnace had been lit within. The whorls on its surface crackled with blue-white lightning. The spell took hold –sealing Fen'Harel inside – as Solas finished the incantation. The world rushed back-in, the silence lifting. Ellana stumbled when Arille wailed.
"Mamae! Garas ma!"
Ellana watched the child shake Melana's lifeless corpse.
"Mamae! Garas ma!"
The child's cries turned shrill. And for the first time in what felt like hours – Ellana heard the pounding of many feet. Light flooded the tent as the canvas-door was torn open. Voices bellowed in alarm at the sight of what Solas had done. Someone cursed – another retched – and others stared at their saviour with fear instead of wonder.
A soldier, garbed in steel-plate, barked a question.
"What have you done?"
Solas's eyes narrowed. He didn't like his tone. "I did what was necessary to further our cause!"
"You murdered Melana!"
Another emerged from the crowd. Her cheeks were scarred and her ears a ruin of torn flesh. Ellana thought of a dog baring its teeth when she glowered at Solas. The way she shook her head and grimaced revealed her disgust. The accusation she spat at his feet incited the rebels.
"He used blood magic! Do you see that orb? It's a foci! And I'll bet you a thousand bits of gold he's sealed Fen'Harel inside! I know that wretched kind of magic because I once served the likes of Falon'Din!"
The crowd swelled, Solas scowled, and Arille sobbed.
"He killed my Mamae!"
"Monster!" roared the soldier. "You would steal a mother from her child?"
The scarred woman sneered. "He's a thief and a liar! What is one life lost in a war no matter how innocent?Melana may have served Mythal, but she still forsook her vows to join us! And now she's dead!"
"Murderer!" screamed another. "Betrayer!"
"Remember to whom you speak!" snarled Solas. "I freed you from slavery! I led you to your salvation! Without me you would still be in chains! I made you see through the lies told by the Evanuris!"
And with that the mob grew unruly. Swords and knives were unsheathed. Spells were uttered until fire and lightning burned and crackled in many hands. Ellana looked back and forth across the crowd and saw their faces were twisted with hate and fear. This was when Solas had lost control of the Rebellion.
In betraying Fen'Harel –his greatest friend and ally –he had betrayed them all.
"You're not a god!" snapped the scarred woman. "And we're not your slaves! And you may have led us, but it was Fen'Harel who showed you the way! And it was not for you that we went into exile! It was for that woman lying in a pool of her own blood that we left everything we knew behind forever!"
The soldier nodded. "Melana broke her vows to Mythal to join our cause! She became our healer and listened to our counsel! She alone tried to bridge the gap between us, you, and Fen'Harel! Without her there wouldn't be a Rebellion!"
"And now she's dead", finished the scarred woman. "And all because of you!"
The crowd turned ugly and one curse was on many lips.
"Harellan! Harellan! Harellan!"
Ellana panicked when the mob rushed in. Steel flashed in the sun. Spells were flung left and right. And in the confusion the scarred woman plucked Arille from the ground. She turned her back on the chaos inside that tent and walked out into the light.
Arille's pale grief-stricken face was the last thing Ellana saw as the memory faded to darkness.
"Fen'Harel", she pleaded, throat tight. "Take me away from here".
A doorway materialised behind them. It opened with a click, the latch unlocking, and swung wide. Fen'Harel pressed his nose into Ellana's cheek. He fell backward into the waking world and together they returned to consciousness. Ellana awoke with a cry.
"Maker's breath! He killed her! How could he do such a thing?"
Her eyes were moist. She recalled everything Fen'Harel had shown her down to the minutest detail. The encampment with its muddy fields. The men and women of the rebellion training with sword, shield, and spear. The disorderly rows of tents and the dragon-bone pegs staking them down.
Her breath caught in her throat. Ellana thought of Melana, Arille, and Solas. She recalled the gore washing across her boots. She had seen Melana's blood painting the walls of Solas's tent. And the foci – the Orb of Destruction – had lain in the palm of his hand.
Ellana turned at the first touch upon her shoulder. Her ears were keen to the sound of his voice. That sweet endearment, once spoken by Solas, cleaved her heart in two. She stilled when she saw his dusky skin, sweet concerned face, and soft blood-red eyes. His brows were furrowed in distress as he regarded her.
"Ir abelas, vhenan. I did not mean to upset you".
Ellana's lower-lip wobbled. She reached for him with trembling fingers.
Fen'Harel frowned. "Vhenan?" He was confused when she cupped his face with her hands. "Are you all right?" Fen'Harel gasped when she took him by surprise.
The kiss was impulsive, full of anguish, and fear-fuelled desperation.
Dalish smiled. "I think she's happy to see you, Hahren".
Ellana froze at the sound of her voice. She broke her lip-lock with Fen'Harel. She left him reeling and turned on her fellow elf with a curse. Dalish recoiled when she spied Ellana's face. Her cheeks were wet and her eyes were red-rimmed from weeping.
"Oh shit".
"Fenedhis lasa! Arille!" yelled Ellana. "Ir abelas! I didn't know! I swear!"
Fen'Harel snickered when his beloved bowled over their adopted daughter. Dalish fell backward onto the bed, long legs tangling with the sheets and blankets. She squawked when her cheeks were peppered with kisses. She blushed when Ellana threw her arms around her shoulders. The hug that followed was so full of love and fear that she awkwardly patted Ellana's back.
A full five minutes passed before Dalish dared to speak.
"Er – Could you let go of me now?"
Ellana snuggled into her side. "Nae! I'm tired, upset, confused and angry! You are going to stay right there until I calm down! And you are not leaving this room until we have a right and proper talk about everything!"
The bed dipped low as Fen'Harel took a seat.
"She needs comforting after what she saw, Arille".
He pressed himself against Ellana's back and nuzzled into the nape of her neck.
"We are here, vhenan. All is well. I promise you".
Ellana sniffled. "Liar. All is not well after what I just saw".
"I know", acknowledged Fen'Harel. "And I understand". He lifted the blankets and tucked them all in as best he could. Ellana refused to release Dalish despite his gentle cajoling. She laid her head upon Dalish's shoulder and closed her eyes.
"You're not going anywhere, Arille".
Dalish rolled her eyes. "Yes, Mamae".
Fen'Harel smiled and laid down beside them.
"Till the morning then".
Ellana nodded. "Till the morning. Now let us sleep and Maker willing. Our dreams had best be untroubled. I'm sick and tired of having nightmares".
Elvish, Tevene, Qunlat Translations: Courtesy of the Dragon Age Wiki
Solas – Pride.
Fen'Harel – The Dread Wolf – The elven god of Rebellion, Betrayal, and Trickery.
Vhenan – Heart.
Ma da'vhenan – My little heart – A term of endearment used by an adult to describe their child.
Ir abelas – I am sorry.
Mamae – Mother.
Ar lath ma – I love you.
Nae – No.
Hahren – Elder – used by the Dalish for a respected elder – used by the city elves for the leader of an Alienage.
Garas ma – Come to me or Come back to me.
Iras ma? - Where are you?
Ir enfanim – I am afraid.
Harellan – Trickster – Used by the Dalish to mean – Traitor to one's kin.