CHAPTER SIX
Pharen had to mentally tell herself not to skip down the hall to her quarters as she turned away from Fen'Harel, the smile still plastered very plainly on her face. She reached the throne room, waving a hand in front of the throne room, only to discover the door was already open. Confused, Pharen pressed a hand to the doorframe, and pushed it open, allowing a small opening to see through. What she saw, she had to cover her mouth with her hand to keep from alarming the looming figure standing in front of Fen'Harel's throne. The motion was pointless, however, when the person turned as Pharen was attempting to back away, and run to find the Wolf.
The voice, when it finally sounded, sent chills through her entire body. "You are Fen'Harel's new pet, I see. Interesting." The figure stepped into the light spilling from the doorway, revealing a woman with wild, fire-red waist-length curls, dark tattoos of many nightmarish creatures crept up her legs and arms, and two golden arrows were emblazoned on the chest piece she wore. The bow she carried was absolutely massive in comparison to any Dalish hunter's bow; it was nearly twice the size of a normal bow, with runes and ancient Elvhen text scrawled across it.
Pharen knew this woman by no other name than Andruil herself. Goddess of the hunt. Though her scorned and disdainful tone was not what she expected from a goddess. Andruil walked lazily to a shaking Pharen, a cruel smile gracing her painted lips. Every part of her screamed to Fen'Harel, quickly praying for aid. When none came, Pharen had no choice but to look up at the imposing goddess. "Can you not speak, girl? 'Tis a wonder, then, why he kept you. Fen'Harel likes his loud." The cruel smile only grew wider at the emphasized words, and Pharen could only imagine what she meant. 'His' what, exactly? Pharen quickly stored that information away to ask him later. Diplomatically.
"Ah, I wondered when you might choose to make your appearance, Andruil. Envious already? I would be, were I in your position." Her heart nearly leapt with joy at hearing his voice, though the tone in which he took was unfamiliar to her. It was not kind in any way. Andruil rounded on him, sneering, "You've taken a pet. I didn't take you for the type to enjoy the meek, Pup. I thought wolves were supposed to enjoy a little challenge in their hunt?" Fen'Harel visibly bristled at these words, a soft growl tearing its wear through his throat. "Huntress, I am well aware of your intentions here, and as much as I would enjoy your company, I must ask that you depart from my temple. There is nothing for you here, since your curiosity apparently got the better of you." Fen'Harel said, coolly, though Pharen could see a small shift in his jaw, a telltale sign when he was on the verge of being incredibly angry.
She had seen Solas do exactly that, once, right before he burned three mages alive for warping and twisting his friend to their own ends. Though Andruil said nothing, her sneer said it for her. This wasn't over. Not by a long shot. She rolled her shoulders back and raised her head, and gave a sarcastic inclination of her head to both Pharen and the Wolf. His eyes narrowed on Andruil's form. "Tel'felas! If you would please, escort our guest here out." A sentinel came from the shadows with increasing speed as he reached them, bowing low to Fen'Harel, he grasped Andruil's arm, and walked quickly with her to the throne room door, then outside.
Pharen and Fen'harel stood in silence, waiting until they could no longer hear their footsteps, and when they couldn't, both simultaneously let out a long sigh. "I apologize, da'enansal. It was my mistake for not putting wards up around the temple. I had feared she would make an appearance soon; word travels fast here. I felt her magic and realized my folly too late. It was not my intent to put you at arm's length to Andruil." His tone was defeated, apologetic, and sincere, and Pharen couldn't help but to give him a small smile.
"It's alright. I know you'd never do anything like that on purpose." He returned her smile, and gestured to the dress still on her shoulder. "I do believe you have a dinner party to get ready for?" He asked, eyes twinkling. Pharen nodded enthusiastically, and skipped anyway to her room, the danger she had been in moments before now completely lost in her happiness. Once her door was closed, Fen'Harel allowed himself a small, private small on her behalf. Her shyness was endearing, to be sure. And if he was quite honest with himself, he found he was incredibly curious not only about the dress he knew she would wear for him at dinner, but curious about her in general. The fact he had no ulterior motives surprised him very much; he would see tonight if it would remain such.
Pharen shut the door softly behind her, grinning from ear to ear, excited to try the dress on for the first time. The merchant had been so certain that it would catch even a god's attention, she had said, which made Pharen even more giddy, nearly bouncing in place with her excitement. Pharen placed the dress across the end of the bed, admiring the dressmaker's handiwork. She peeled off the robe she had been temporarily given, and was about to peel out of her smallclothes when she heard a soft knock at the door. Confused, she called, "Who is it?"
"Mistress, you don't know me yet, but Mast-Fen'Harel asked me to assist you in getting ready for dinner this night," a meek female voice answered from the other side. Pharen called for her to come in; she had, after all, never been one to be shy about what the Creators had given her. Every female looked the same and every male looked the same, the way she saw it; no point in having modesty. The small Elvhen that stepped through the door was nothing short of beautiful. Her hazel eyes were large and round and full of wonder, her blonde hair swept up in a very messy bun, and her face was not marred by anyone's vallaslin. "Mistress Lavellan, I am Nehn, and I was asked to come help you…like I…already said."
The girl gave an embarrassed flush; she had not wanted to embarrass herself. Unbeknownst to Pharen, Nehn had expressed as much when she had been tasked by the Dread Wolf. Just make her happy, he had said. Nehn fondly smiled at the memory, never having seen this side of him. It was endearing to know that some of the gods really did care. "Would you like to sit down while I at least get the dress on?" Pharen smiled at the girl openly, trying to assure her no harm had been done.
She received a small one in return, and Nehn did as she was asked, and sat at the edge of the bed, watching Lavellan slide herself into the dress. It was stunning, to be sure. The fabric itself was very dark sea-blue at the bottom, and as Nehn's eyes trailed upwards, the dark sea-blue became lighter blues, and at the shoulders became pure white. The golden trim began at the "V" in the neckline in between Pharen's chest, and wound intricately into the sleeves, which were also white. The patterns intersected at her shoulders, and cascaded down her arms in a wave, ending in a gold band around each wrist. Lavellan looked at Nehn questioningly, to gauge some sort of reaction; what she saw in the girl's eyes was pure awe.
"You don't suppose…you could help me with my hair, could you?" Pharen asked nervously. Nehn jumped up, now grinning ear to ear for her. Pharen replaced Nehn at the edge of her bed while she worked. She sat for what felt like hours, allowing Nehn to do whatever she wished to her hair, which is why the girl surprised her when she clapped her hands together and gave a high-pitched giggle. "Oh, he's going to love this! Here, take a look! Please!" Pharen chuckled at the girl's enthusiasm, and when she went to a looking glass, she could completely understand why. Her long jet black hair had been made to curl, with half of her hair up and half of her hair down. The half that was up was made to stay that way by a simple flower in her hair, its stem wrapping around the tail. Pharen's new hair that was growing in was also made to curl, in an effort to frame her face. It was beautiful.
"Th-thank you, Nehn! I love it!" exclaimed Pharen, drawing the girl into a hug. Though initially Nehn was surprised at the contact, she almost instantly returned the gesture. "Of course, Mistress. I hope you're hungry; Mast-Fen'Harel wanted the kitchens to cook a lot of food tonight. I think he did it because he wasn't sure what you liked to eat. He's too proud to ask for help if he needs it, though. Even though he knows any of us could have asked." Nehn giggled, taking Pharen's hand and guiding her out of the veilfire-lit throne room, down the opposite hallway, where more braziers were lit.
They came to a great oak door, and Nehn gave her a gentle push at her back before wishing her luck and telling her how beautiful she was one last time, before turning heel and walking quickly away from the door. Curious, Pharen pushed open the door to have her senses assaulted by the sheer amount of food that was laid out on the banquet table. Once again, some foods she recognized; others she did not. The Wolf sat at the head of the table, with a chair placed adjacent to him. He had a smug grin firmly in place, she assumed from the foods he had gathered and was proud of himself.
She smiled despite herself and began walking toward the open seat close to him. As she approached, she watched his smug grin fade, to be replaced by a flash of something unrecognizable in his features. Fleeting as it was, she almost wasn't sure she had seen it at all. He quickly regained his composure and smiled openly at Pharen, standing up when she got close enough to the table. He gestured to the open seat, and waited for her to sit down before sitting back down himself. She got an odd fluttering feeling in her stomach at this display, and quickly tried to shake it off. Taking in the room itself, she noticed there were no sentinels around. She could sense wards, it was true, but there were no physical barriers.
He had been telling the truth when he had said he would ensure they would not be interrupted this evening. "It all looks very good. Thank you, by the way. I know it was weird asking you to do this, but I thought it may help us be friends while I'm here." She did not notice the quick furrow in his brow at the word 'friend'. "It is no trouble, da'enansal. I enjoy the company. By company, I do mean a very beautiful woman that is sharing my den with me." His words were meant to come across as playful and cocky, but even he could not keep the warmth out of them. He mentally cursed himself.
"Please, by all means, eat what you will. It is…the first time in a long time that someone has shown interest in simply 'getting to know' me better." He grinned at her, then, causing her to blush under his gaze. "I thought I could answer some things for you. I have no fear of consequences, Fen'Harel." Pharen grabbed what she thought was ram from a rather large plate, and a green and purple fruit from another. "Indulge me, then, da'enansal. Tell me about yourself, where you are from."
Pharen chewed thoughtfully on the sweet fruit, after swallowing, she said, quietly, "You already know my name. You know that I don't belong here, in this time, even though I am an elf and a mage…" she trailed off, but began to explain many things about herself in a short time. She began to tell him of the orb, the Inquisition, her companions, the Dalish, time magic and anything else she could think of. Fen'Harel remained mostly quiet, though his attention was focused solely on her. He only stopped her a handful of times during her story to ask questions.
"Do you recall how you got here, da'enansal?" He questioned, grabbing a piece of meat and tossing it into his mouth. Pharen raised an eyebrow, but remained silent. "This will sound strange, but do you recall ever seeing a very large white wolf, at any point in your life? Outside of the Beyond, of course." Pharen nodded, but said nothing, and waited for him to explain. "I ask because my one true animal form is that of a wolf, obviously. I thought maybe you had discovered an eluvian in your time, and my wolf sensed my own magic coursing within you, causing it to blindly attack. Especially if it was already hunting. The foci from your time, and the wolf colliding close to an eluvian would have caused a rip in time. The wolf may have even pushed you through it, here, to me. Why, I am uncertain. Though that seems a plausible explanation for what has happened."
Pharen numbly nodded, remembering the great white wolf that had thrown her off-balance. She had been so afraid, had feared for her life, rightfully so, it seemed. To think that Solas was hunting in his wolf form so close to where he told her what they'd had was real… The only detail she had left out was the fact his older self left her, a detail he quickly picked up on, after she regaled her tale to him."You still have not told me about your Solas." It wasn't so much an inquiry as it was a prod. Her shoulders slumped. "I…he…he took my heart and gave me his in return. Though I don't know how much heart was left of his when he gave it to me." Her head remained bowed so she could not see his reaction. He had been about to speak again when he saw a lone tear track its way down her porcelain cheek.
"Da'enansal, none of that," he said gently, reaching across the table to cup her tear-tracked face to wipe away the wetness with his thumb. The action was so intimate, she had a hard time not flushing under his touch. She let out a soft sigh, and gently pressed her face into his palm, albeit momentarily. When he did not move his hand after she stopped crying, she raised her gaze to meet his. It was so soft, so warm, and she was afraid to blink lest she break his expression. Pharen looked into his eyes and saw a tenderness there, a genuine concern for her. Lavellan gave him a small, soft smile before putting her hand over his on her cheek, squeezing it affectionately, before gently pulling it away.
Pharen rose from the table, gathering the bottom of the dress so she wouldn't trod on it. "Thank you again, Fen'Harel. For everything. You don't have to be good to anyone, yet you do. You go out of your way to be such. You've helped me a lot tonight, and you've helped me understand Solas better. And I love you for that." Her words had been spoken gently to him, in a show of humility. Though once the words were out, it scared her how true they were. Though there was no taking the words themselves back, at least she could save herself from blushing incessantly to admitting such a thing to him. She whispered another thank you to him before turning around slowly and heading back toward the corridor.
Once the door was closed, Lavellan collapsed against it on the other side, taking deep breaths to calm her nerves. What are you thinking, telling the Dread Wolf you love him?! Have you completely lost your mind? Unknown to her, on the opposite side of the door, Fen'Harel himself had sunk down into his seat, her final words still echoing in his mind. "I love you for that." Did she mean what he thought she meant? Was she still in love with an older version of him? He crossed his arms on the table, and laid his forehead on his arm, trying to make sense of it all.