I haven't written anything in nearly eight years (besides massive amount of DM notes). Then, the other day, I played Inquistion again, for the first time in several years, and got swept away with the characters and story again, especially Solas' multi-layered character. I wanted to write down some dialog and feelings from my Inquisitor as a writing exercise, which is chapter 3 in this story, and before I knew it, I had written several chapters already.
Renamed from "Faded Purple" to "Out of Tune" to better represent the common themes.
Warning: story mentions abuse, and more mature themes in later chapters (not graphic).
I am not an English native, so please forgive the occasional language mishap!
Herald
Ennaly fell butt-first to the rocky ground. A shot of pain erupted from her leg.
Damned terror demons.
The large monstrosity hovered above her, having just knocked her down with its long gangly limb. It raised a gnarled claw to strike at her once more, but –
From her position on the ground, Ennaly directed her staff towards the demon and send a well-aimed bolt of white-crackling lightning to its abdomen. From outside her vision, she saw a crossbow bolt speeding its way towards the demon. With a high-pitched screech, it disintegrated.
That was her chance. She reached out with her left hand towards the green shimmering tears in the sky and with all her might, focussed her will through the mark on her palm. A beam of green energy, raw and volatile, erupted from the mark and jerked at the tears of the rift. The force made the bracelets on her arms clatter together, wood and stone. With a loud boom the rift imploded, and soon only the regular early night sky was visible above the Elven mage.
The silence that followed was as welcome as the cool breeze on her sweaty forehead. You never noticed how loud a battle was, crackling magic, shrieking demons, singing steel, and energy escaping from the literal dreamworld, until it was over.
"I hate demons," said a voice to her right, the deep rumble of Iron Bull. Ennaly shared the sentiment.
"This was a particularly nasty one, yes," the voice of Varric replied from somewhere behind. She heard the sound of the crossbow collapsing and being attached to its holder on the Dwarf's back. A second later, the flushed face of Cassandra appeared above her.
"Everything alright?" the warrior asked her, holding out her hand for help.
Ennaly took it, but the moment she tried to rest her weight on her leg, she cried out. Both women looked down. Ennaly's foot had a slightly wrong angle about it. It didn't look good. The terror demon had latched its limb around her leg and yanked her to the ground, and clearly the tug had been enough to break the bone. With assistance, she started to unwrap it.
"That is going to hurt," Varric said concerned as he walked nearer, already grabbing a potion from his belt.
Ennaly's and Cassandra's eyes met. They knew what they had to do. With a sharp cry of pain, Cassandra reset the bone. Varric handed the potion to her. Her hand still slightly shaking, she gulped down the contents of the flask.
A sigh of relief. After the liquid burned slightly in her throat, she could feel the warmth descending to her stomach. From there, it spread down to her leg where it was needed the most, knitting muscle and bone back together. It didn't do the full trick though.
"A little help, Chuckles?" Varric called to the other Elven mage, standing some distance away.
Solas appeared, mostly unscathed from the battle, and kneeled down near Ennaly. His eyes met hers before he looked down, resolute on his task. He placed his warm hands on her ankle and began channelling magic. A soft light blue glow appeared between his hands, the sensation warm and comforting, like entering a hot spring after a long day's walk.
When Solas was done, Ennaly moved her foot around. It no longer hurt.
"That is so much better, thank you," she exhaled gratefully.
Solas looked up to her. "I would be careful for the next few days. Try and not put any weight on it. A broken bone is not an easy injury to heal from." His eyes drifted down over her face to her cheekbones, and she saw him follow the lines of her Vallaslin there. A frown appeared on his face.
She pulled her foot back and started wrapping it again, feeling annoyed by his glare. She had never done anything to warrant it.
"You mages are too squishy," Bull said, but with a soft touch to his tone.
Ennaly looked around. Bull was tending to Dorian, who was bleeding from a large cut on his arm.
"You are not looking too good yourself, Bull," Dorian said sharply. "And our other mage seems to be perfectly fine."
Solas was casually leaning on his staff now, observing their surroundings.
"Well, he was all the way over there, not in the centre of the fray, that's almost cheating," Bull replied.
"I remember you appreciating that barrier when the demon was about to blast you," Solas remarked sharply.
"Save it for your fellow Elf, next time," Bull replied. "I'm fine either way."
Ennaly sighed. With a group as diverse as they were, there were bound to be some people who just butted heads together. At least they worked together well enough, and after all the fighting they did, they got quite accustomed to each other's strengths and weaknesses.
No matter Bull's words, out of all of them, he seemed to have the most injuries. It was nothing a potion and some rest couldn't solve, however. Ennaly was glad that they had horses. It would have been a terror – the joke wasn't lost on her – to have to travel all the way back on foot. When they had seen the rift in the sky from ahead, they bound their horses to nearby trees and approached on foot to deal with the danger.
"Camp here?" Dorian asked the group.
"I'd rather not. This place gives me the creeps now," Ennaly responded, trying to get up. "I hmm… Might need some help, though, getting on a horse."
She and Varric waited while the others went to grab the horses so Ennaly wouldn't have to hobble over. A few minutes later, during which Varric succeeded in trying to get her to laugh, the others returned. Before she could so much as protest or agree, Bull had picked her up as if she weighed less than his battleaxe – which was probably true – and sat her down on her horse, a gentle amber coloured mare.
"Thanks Bull," she said. "Just a little further, then?"
Half an hour later, they found a nice spot near a stream of water where they could wash away the sweat and grime of the fight.
"I will be glad to be back in Haven tomorrow," Dorian noted. "Never thought to be happy to go back to that hovel, but beggars can't be choosers. It's preferable to the roads anyway."
Ennaly didn't fully agree. She didn't mind Haven, but she enjoyed the open-air camping a lot more than her little hut. She preferred to sleep under the night sky when there was no downpour, used to that arrangement since her childhood among the Dalish. When there was rain or snow, families would huddle together in their aravels, but otherwise, most would prefer sleeping under the stars.
Humans were weird for needing all that empty space for just a few people. Ennaly could never understand the concept of Human castles and mansions. How lonely it must be to dwell in empty rooms, such wasted space. In Haven, she accepted her little hut, deeming it best to try and blend in with Human culture.
Something they could all agree on, however, was that nothing beat cool, running water to wash away a battle's grime. She was used to bathing together, men, women, children and elderly. Everybody had skin. But she learned from her mistake the first time, and over time, she'd gotten used to the privacy. She was occasionally joined by Cassandra, because for some reason, it was fine if you were with your own gender.
Speaking of Cassandra, she supported Ennaly to the waterside. They were camped at a nice clearing in a pine forest on the hills, bushes nearby the little stream to offer privacy. Used to the bathing in cold water, Ennaly waded to the middle of the stream, waist-deep, and submerged herself.
"I don't know how you can deal with the cold," the Seeker said, sitting at the water's edge under a blanket, only bathing one body part at a time.
"It's quite refreshing," Ennaly said with a smile, as she found a stone in the riverbed to scrub her skin. "Want me to heat some water for you?"
Cassandra frowned for a moment. "That will not be necessary, thank you."
Right. The woman was a little averse to the use of magic, especially when it was used in such a frivolous way as heating the water for a more comfortable wash. She could just be cold then, Ennaly didn't care. The water was refreshing, it was almost cloudless overhead, and the stars were shining brightly. The stream was at a slope and the soft sound of flowing water was a pleasant melody in their ears. She could almost forget the terror of everything that happened lately.
From the other side of the bushes, she heard Varric refer to her as Herald.
Such a simple word, really. It conjured images in your mind, of someone grandstanding and important. She, a Dalish mage, the Herald of Andraste? She felt more like an imposter.
But she wasn't, was she? The glowing mark on her hand indicated something, even if she didn't think she was sent by anything divine. She believed that Cassandra believed she was the real thing, and if was true or not, she was willing to help out, so did it really matter in the end?
Not to her.
And no matter how Cassandra had treated her in the beginning, she was very sure that the Seeker would stay around until the end, and would not give any less than her very best for their cause. And with that, she herself could hardly give less than her own very best. It might partly be to spite all those who opposed her, and partly to repay those that put their faith in her.
She heard the men laugh from the other side of the bushes. She was glad to hear the laugh from the Tevinter mage. Who'd ever thought she, a Dalish Elf, could feel such connection to a Tevinter mage – not Magister, she heard Dorian say in her mind. The history of their respective people aside, what they had experienced together, not even a week ago, could grow a connection between any two unlikely people, she thought. It was enough to take the laughter away from anyone's face for a good long while. It affected him still, she could see it in his eyes sometimes, when he didn't think anyone was looking.
She felt the same.
Bull let out a laugh that almost sounded like a bark. Out of all the eccentrics around, she'd least expected to be traveling with a Qunari. She had never seen one before him. Living sheltered in the forest and the plains, she'd only had some interactions with Humans from small villages. There were times they met with other Dalish clans, and she'd seen a Dwarf around, but a Qunari? She'd imagined living her entire life without ever meeting one.
Upon meeting him, he scared her a bit, but right now, he wasn't so intimidating anymore. It made her feel oddly safe to have someone around strong enough to uproot a small tree by hand. She had seen him give his life for her and Dorian, in the twisted future she and the Tevinter had to witness. How can you not trust someone whom you've seen sacrificing their life? She'd seen the demons throw his mangled body to the floor. She'd do everything not to have to witness that again.
Perhaps, in a twisted sense, it was simply guilt. This man did not even know of that future, this man had not really sacrificed himself. But still, she would do whatever she could to repay the price the would-be him had paid.
And it was the same for Varric. He too, had sacrificed himself, and thus he had earned her eternal gratitude. Not that he didn't already place himself in a favourite light from the beginning, as the only one who felt really sympathetic to her when she was still deemed a prisoner. He had really been the stable presence to keep her grounded and not collapse under this new title that was forced upon her. Doe, he'd called her in those early days, when it has just been him, her, Cassandra and Solas.
And Solas... Her fellow Elf remained a bit of a mystery. She remembered at first being happy to see another Elven mage not belonging to a circle, but it didn't take long to understand that he didn't like the Dalish at all. He was cordial enough to her, of course, warm at times, and he had stories to tell that could make her forget the real world for a while, but she could see him looking at the Vallaslin on her cheekbones from time to time. Those purple lines were the best visual representation of her Dalish ancestry, and his gazes were always accompanied with a furrow on his brow, like earlier. Well, hiss loss, she thought.
After dressing again, Cassandra helped support her hobble back to the camp. The men were finished washing sooner than they and had started a fire. They were clearly enjoying their racial diversity by jabbing prejudices against each other in a playful manner. One of each, and no doubled. At least they were all invested in the hole in the Sky.
"While we're sharing surprises, Solas, you've done a lot less dancing naked in the moonlight than expected," Dorian said.
"Tevinter lore about Elves remains accurate as always," Solas replied, shaking his head.
"I wanted to see you make flowers bloom with your song, just once," Dorian said with a dramatic sigh.
Ennaly found a spot near the fire, thanked Cassandra for the support and sat down. "Well for once, Tevinter is right," she said while she started to braid her damp hair. All eyes turned to her. "What? You can't think that I lived in the woods and not did my share of naked moonlight dancing."
"Good to see there's always someone to keep the stereotypes intact," Dorian mentioned.
"Leave it to a Dalish to enforce this image of Elves," Solas said calmly.
She grinned and reached behind her head to pin her braid up with a simple wooden stick. She regarded the other Elf. "Come on, you can't seriously tell me you've never ever danced naked in the moonlight. Not even in the Fade?"
He looked at her, his eyebrows slightly raised, as his lips curled into a smirk. "I thought there were some Elven secrets we would never share. Alas. I am forced to confess now."
"I'll keep quiet about the other things," Ennaly added, glad for a sudden kinship with her fellow Elf.
"Huh... So it is true?" Dorian asked. "If you feel the urge, there's a lovely patch of moonlight there." He waved to the other side of the clearing.
Solas looked up to the skies through the canopy of the trees. Satina was low on the horizon and not visible. "No, I can only dance when both the moons are high in the sky."
"Really?" Dorian looked incredulous, but Ennaly saw that the smirk on Solas' face had widened. It was a joke.
"Or when a halla and a nug cross paths before your eye," she added, joining in on teasing Dorian.
Solas turned to look at her, smile still on his face. "In that case you have to answer the call without delay."
Ennaly returned the smile. Really, she hadn't expected him to be joking like this, but if they were doing this, she could conjure another line of this made-up rhyme. "If you don't, the Dread Wolf will carry you away."
His amused expression turned a little puzzled. She saw his eyes dart over her Vallaslin before he averted his gaze. Right. He didn't like the Dalish.
Dorian shook his head, realizing he had been fooled. The others laughed. "Such a shame," he sighed. "Still no flowers for me."
"And no dancing for me with this ankle," Ennaly said mournfully, looking at the outstretched leg in front of her.
"Dancing in the moonlight, do I sense a story here?" Varric asked, looking at both Elves in turn.
"I'll have to hold my tongue, Varric, lest I'll be the character in your next raunchy tale," she smiled. "But really, nothing beats some moonlight dancing with a person you care about."
It felt like a lifetime ago, a different Elf, that danced under the moonlight. An Elf that dwelled underneath the trees, without a worry that the sky would rain down.
"It does sound quite romantic," Cassandra said wistfully.
"Herald, such a tease!" Varric exclaimed. "I have got to hear those stories at some point. Do you think there is an audience for a good Elven romance serial? I could set it in the olden days, Solas could supply me with some good historical details."
"And see those details butchered for the sake of cheap romance? I think I will have to take a pass," Solas responded.
Varric gave a disappointed sigh. "Think about it though. Two Elven mages, questing together for a greater cause, but at the end, they find themselves on opposite sides of a conflict... Will their love endure? I do feel like I need to add a human in there somehow, perhaps a love triangle. Makes it easier to relate to the broader audience. Now I just need to think of a good villain…" He searched in his pack for a notebook and began to scribble away.
Meanwhile, Dorian had found a bottle of some strong drink and filled some small cups with the golden liquid. He handed out the drinks to everyone. "To the happy days of dancing naked in the moonlight," he declared. "Might they soon return!"