CHAPTER 39
Ellana was unsurprised when Dorian dragged her into the bathroom for a tête-à-tête upon arrival at The Kirkwall. Earlier that week in her closet-sized office over lunch, she had unloaded on him about the current state of her and Fenris' relationship and the strange encounter in the library. As the group fled the stiff dinner for the coat check, Ellana had caught her friend scrutinizing every exchange with intense focus. Now in the tiny bathroom, covered in the Toile de Jouy wallpaper, she was face-to-face with her friend's perfectly coiled mustache dissecting the situation yet again.
"Why do we always find ourselves in dramatic parties?" Dorian lamented, raising his hands up in an exasperated shrug. The dim light was reflecting pleasantly off the gold jewels sewn onto his jacket.
"Well, it is the Orelaisian way," Ellana responded dryly. The strange circumstances she found herself in now had happened so quickly in the Ballroom, that she was still catching up. "Forgive me, but I do have to point out you are the one that invited Solas."
"It was more of a courtesy," Dorian sighed, "I thought I was playing it cool."
Although she was admittedly a bit annoyed, Ellana laughed and hugged her friend. The last few months in Val Royeaux had been so unbelievable that a problem as mundane as two former lovers in the same room was reassuring that at least one part of her life had an everyday dilemma.
"So you aren't mad?" Dorian muttered into her shoulder. The gold netting of her dress almost filled the tiny bathroom.
"You are totally taking me out for pizza this week," Ellana reassured him.
"Fair."
"Solas and I do need to work together on this exhibition, as Vivienne reminded us. I thought I'd wait until after Fenris left to renew our friendship, however. I'm not sure why Fenris encouraged him to come. Male bravado?"
"Undoubtedly. What a clusterfuck. I hope the two don't enter into some sort of primal wrestling match. Or do I? " Dorian muttered before carefully studying the intricate prints that surrounded them. "Are those darkspawn playing croquet on a lawn?"
"Yes, I believe so," Ellana confirmed after staring at the wallpaper herself.
"What is this preposterous barrage that we call our lives?" Dorian pondered out loud, twisting his mustache.
Ellana thought it quite fortunate a frantic knock on the door prevented her from answering Dorian's philosophical musings. Exiting, she was able to survey the party for the first time. The whole tavern was decorated with lights. The doors that ran the hallway down the bar had been completely opened up, each room revealing different groups of creatives and other disreputables dressed in their most experimental finery. To the left of the bathroom, an empty patio offered another gathering spot even if it was empty except for strands of paper lanterns and heat lamps.
Scanning the crowds, however, Dorian and Ellana could not locate any of their party members.
"They must be upstairs," Dorrian muttered, pointing to a rickety stairway behind one of the doors Ellana had never seen opened on any of her prior visits. Draping the train of her skirt up over an elbow, she climbed up the narrow stairs to see that most of what appeared to be an attic had been cleared for dancing, a Tevene string band playing in the background. Tables to the right of the room were covered in wine bottles and empty glasses, completely surrounded by attendees.
"Over there," Dorian interrupted her pointing. Before Ellana had time to look, Dorian had gently pulled her to the dance floor, putting an arm around her waist to initiate the quick steps of the Minrathous tango. The first few moves were awkward, but as Ellana caught up to Dorian, she wistfully allowed him to slide her across the floor, and even swing her leg up around his waist.
The two landed in a dip near their table, and much to Ellana's embarrassment, a number of artists she recognized fromPauper Ranch, Fenris' collective, raised a potpourri of mismatched glassware in a toast to their arrival.
Fighting back a blush, Ellana made eye contact with an uncomfortable-looking Solas, who flashed her a rather forced smile. The neurologist looked rather out of place in a forest green, perfectly tailored suit, amongst the leather detailed and paint-splattered jackets that surrounded him. She hoped that while she and Dorian were consulting in the bathroom that no one had said or done anything unkind to him.
"Ellana," she heard a reserved voice whisper to her on the left.
"Sten!" She cried, hugging the qunari who was wearing a bomber jacket with an asymmetrical zipper. Despite the cold, he was also in shorts and industrial combat boots. Sten was one of Fenris' oldest friends, and Ellana had spent many hours on the artist commune watching the stars with him around the bonfire.
"I can't believe Fen convinced you to come all this way." She muttered, looking at Fenris who had shed his tie and jacket and appeared to be heatedly debating a Dwarf who was wearing black denim overalls and a beige utility jacket.
"He's grandiose today" Sten continued in his steady voice. "Not good for him, but it is his way. I will go with him to the new residency. He asked if I might come along for a time to help with video production. All must find their place, so I go."
"That's kind of you, Sten." The week prior Fenris had received a prestigious artist residency in Denerim that would run January through June of next year. She was glad, as although since their "breakup" things had remained cheerful between them, that Fenris wouldn't have to immediately be thrust back home where he would live amongst the ghosts of their past.
"This place, Val Royeaux, is rather unnecessary. Except for the cakes. Will you not go with Fenris, kadan?"
She shook her head.
"Ah, so that is the way of it too. I thought as much. Is that why he gives the bald one a scornful look every opportunity?"
"Yes," Ellana said. She appreciated that she could always be straightforward with Sten. The qunari did not mince words.
"The bald one looks at you in a way that I like." Sten pronounced before lifting a huge stein of beer to his lips. "Give Fenris time, he has to adjust, I think to you having a new person in your life. Friends, I expect you will be."
Ellana was interrupted again by Dorian handing her a generous serving of sparkling rose from the Dalish reservation that she had come to drink whenever she was at the Kirkwall.
Sipping she watched the lively group debate the minutiae of new projects and scornfully drag several contemporary artists within earshot. Laughing at the constant posturing, she turned her attention to the music that reminded her so much of the near-decade she had happily lived in Tevinter.
She was interrupted when a reticent Solas sat in the empty chair that was next to her. It had been some time since Ellana had been this close to him, and the subtle smell of fresh laundry that always clung in the air around him reminded her yet again of their tumble on her bed.
"I didn't know if I should come or not, but Fenris insisted again, rather aggressively, at coat check that I should when I made excuses. I hope, given our history, that I did not continue to darken the evening further after the bloodletting at dinner by your dear chair."
"I'm glad you could join." Ellana had replied, at first out of politeness, but then with the realization that she was rather happy that Solas had tagged along. Amidst the artifice and noisy festivities, she found his presence reassuring. Along with his continued forthrightness.
"This is quite a crowd," Solas observed wryly. "Although I haven't been able to visit as many museums as I would like, I feel a bit of awe when I recognize someone's name from an exhibition."
"I never realized how much I took it all for granted. When I first met many of these artists they were starting out. Sometimes, I forget how many accolades Fenris has achieved. We were very young when we first met, neither of us settled, perhaps I am only able to grasp how young now in retrospect."
The words had slipped out easily. She hadn't meant to continue the charade that she and Fenris were in any way together. Many of those at the party that knew Fenris and Ellana were aware that had been casual between them for years after some very public disagreements. It was harder to correct the notion to Solas with an audience. It would have been impossible, as well, to amend Vivienne's assumption.
"Fenris mentioned to the table that he is pursuing a residency in Denerim," Solas announced rather unexpectedly. His voice was tinged with loss.
"Solas," Ellana began rather wearily in response. "I wanted to tell you-"
She was interrupted by a tap on her shoulder, turning to look up at Fenris who was beaming. "Dance with me, Lala? Do you mind Solas?"
"Not at all," the neurologist admitted, rising and extending a hand towards Fenris, which the artist took and shook vigorously. "I was saying goodnight, as it were. Thank you for inviting me to this lovely event. A welcome change after how this evening started."
"It was good you came," Fenris responded with a courteous nod.
"Good night, Solas," Ellana said with a small wave, which Solas returned with a smile.
She tried to keep from watching as Solas' broad shoulders disappeared down the stairs, out of view, as Fenris spun her around the floor.