The Dread Wolf
As the morning sun rose higher into the skies, too high to shine through the large windows of this cold, opulent room, Ennaly found herself getting increasingly bored, angry, and frustrated. The audacity of the Orlesian and Ferelden nobility knew no limit. The Inquisition had been working tirelessly to aid their war-torn countries, restoring them from the terror that reigned over them. For the past three years, Ennaly had been racing around to close rifts, risking life and limb for the good of all.
To what end?
If you listened to the nobles, you'd think she'd been seizing land for greed and tyranny. If not for Josephine's calming presence, and even the occasional concerned gaze from the Divine, Ennaly would have given into her emotions and burned bridges. The injustice of it all...
Bann Teagan and Duke Cyril kept droning on, and Ennaly found her eyes glazing over, staring at the large chandelier overhead. There was something reflecting a dot of light there, fracturing in the dangling crystal to a kaleidoscope of colour. After staring at it for a moment, she realised it must be coming from one of the nobles in the audience. Reflections from jewellery, perhaps?
She stole a glance behind her, and was greeted by Dorian's hazel eyes grinning at her. He was playing around with a large gemstone ring, projecting reflections onto the ceiling for her amusement.
She grinned back at him. His presence made everything better. He was a Magister now, having taken over from his father. They had spend a wonderful day together, the day before, the entire gang united.
Well, besides Solas, of course.
Without active thought, her fingers moved to her waist to fidget with his wolven amulet, but her fingers grasped around thin air. While she had been carrying it on and off over the last few years, depending on her current attitude towards Solas, it did not make a good accessory to her formal gown.
It had been a while since she had met him in the Fade. It worried her at the back of her mind, sometimes, partly in wonder where he was, partly in fear that there would be no one to calm down her Anchor, her own research only yielding disappointment. It had been acting up lately, and it was waking her at night.
"...well-intentioned mistakes..."
Ennaly felt her musings fade at those words, eyeing up towards Duke Cyril. Gods, if they threw any more accusations at her, she might just resort to ill-intentioned actions. There were a million things she would rather do than sit here.
She was pulled out of her misery as an Elven scout approached to whisper in her ear. Leliana wanted to speak to her about a pressing matter?
She focused her gaze on Divine Victoria, who nodded towards her with a serious expression on her face. Alright. At this moment, she'd take any opportunity to leave this place.
Fifteen minutes later, as Ennaly stared at the active Eluvian, the image of the dead Qunari still fresh in her mind, she sighed with resignation. She doubted the nobility would thank her for it, but it was time for the Inquisition to investigate more messes. At least she had brought her battle gear.
And truth be told, it did feel good again, Dorian, Bull, Varric, Cole and Cassandra, geared up and ready for battle. Following the trail of blood through the Eluvian proved more interesting than listening to the rambling of nobles.
"Oh, this is gonna be fun!" Bull exclaimed, his axe in hand. "The old team together again to kick some ass!"
But the vista that greeted her when they stepped out of the Eluvian and up the stairs of some Elven ruin, was nothing like Ennaly had expected. They were in the mountains, somewhere, and quite possibly miles away from Orlais. In the middle of a mountain lake was a large elegant building. It was beautifully serene here, a warm soft breeze in the air, if you ignored the blood platters that led them to this place.
Additionally, Ennaly couldn't deny a gnawing feeling that she had been here before. This time, her hand did clutch around the amulet.
Years ago, when she had been with Solas, he'd take her to places in their dreams and she recognized the structure in the lake. They had sat together in a pavilion somewhere on these surrounding mountains, chatting and watching the sunrise. She didn't fully remember what he said this place was. A sanctuary, perhaps?
Yet as they travelled through the Eluvians on this place, Ennaly couldn't help shaking away an ever-increasing sense of foreboding, some sinking feeling of connectivity between it all. But connectivity of what, exactly?
Fen'Harel bids you welcome. Rest, knowing the Dread Wolf guards you and his people in this valley. In this place, you are free. In trusting us, you will never be bound again.
Ennaly's eyes widened as the spirits of ancient Elves whispered to her, their voices ethereal and haunting. A shiver ran down her spine as she realised she knew the answer, told to her by the voices of the Well. Her oath to freedom, and the spirits greeted her as kin.
They claimed this was Fen'Harel's sanctuary. She knew from Solas that there had been some close connection between Mythal and Fen'Harel. He himself had once worn her Vallaslin, rebellion from injustice.
Say hello to my old friend, when you see him. Mythal had said that. Had she meant Fen'Harel? But she hadn't seen Fen'Harel, not after the night Solas took away her Vallaslin and the wolf had… what? Protected her? It sent another shiver down her spine.
She had hoped this place would offer her answers, yet only more questions entered Ennaly's mind. Why of all places did the Eluvians lead here?. The fresco in the main building told her more than she thought possible, the colours still vibrant in the passing of time. It depicted a large figure in a wolf mask removing the Vallaslin of Elven faces, slaves.
She let her fingers gently glide over the image, the places where the plaster had become saturated with pigment, enough for the residual paint to dry in brushstrokes. As her fingers traced over the details and curling lines, an almost overwhelming sense of familiarity washed over her.
Certainly, this technique was not uncommon. They had seen it scattered all around Thedas, some old, some new. But all artists had their own style, and it just so happened that this style was so very similar to the paintings in Skyhold, not just the brushstrokes, but the way the figures were painted, the way the background was decorated. There was something important here, some truth, buried beneath layers of paint and history, Ennaly could feel it in her heart.
"Ar lasa mala revas. You are so beautiful," Cole chanted quietly, the words bringing back memories of a nearby waterfall, of a different ruin of Elven architecture, with a different fresco painted on the wall.
Not showing her emotions to the others, Ennaly let her finger glide towards the painted man's hand, but as her finger connected to his, she softly gasped and retracted her arm. Most of this man's face was hidden by the mask, but it was possible. Was she staring at a painting Solas had made? Of Solas himself? Or of Fen'Harel?
"Cleansed, fresh-faced where the marks once marred. Fen'Harel helping, healing, giving hope," Cole finished.
So Fen'Harel. Not Solas.
Or…?
Ennaly turned around and saw the others staring a little uncomfortably.
"Solas took away yours, did he not?" Dorian asked quietly. "Is there… Any connection here?"
Ennaly sighed and frowned, uncertain if she wanted to reveal what she knew or not. She decided she didn't have the words for it, least of all for the confession that she had been seeing him about once every month for the last two years, in the Fade. As she turned her back to the others to light a Veilfire torch, her eyes met Bull's. He knew. She nodded.
Bull sighed and faced the others. "Remember Abelas?"
Ennaly turned her attention to the room as Bull spoke. She had no desire to listen to it being spoken aloud again. As she lit a Veilfire torch and worked on solving the puzzle, she heard Dorian's loud yell as Bull explained. "Vishante kaffas! What do you mean he's over a thousand years old?"
Ennaly flinched from the indignation and anger in Dorian's tone as he made promises to seek retribution for the lies he had told Ennaly. But Dorian was wrong, for Solas had hardly ever lied to her. He was just very good at walking the fine line between truth and un-truth.
But she found the solution to the puzzle, and the statue of the Dread Wolf moved to reveal a staircase. She smiled a little sadly as she gestured for everyone to descent. "And that is why I didn't want to tell anyone. I knew Bull knew. We've spoken about it."
"It is almost impressive how he managed to bypass Leliana's investigations," Cassandra provided, a mix between admiration and resentment. "He was always so well-spoken and thoughtful."
"And arrogant at times," Bull added. "Hiding in plain sight, like the best spy."
Varric made a sound between a scoff and a laugh. "That is what you get with millennia of experience. Shit, Ennaly, your story is almost more romantically tragic that the stuff I wrote."
Ennaly shrugged as she was the last to descent. "He wasn't quite a spy. And remember that we all wouldn't be here without his help with the Anchor. Speaking about it…" She clenched her teeth as her hand ached and sparked again. "I need him soon, or this thing might just be my tragic end."
Dorian frowned with concern, but was helpless to do anytime. "How has that been working for the last two years? Is this a recent thing?"
Ennaly looked up towards him and could not hide the guilt in her eyes. "Don't ask questions you are not prepared to hear the answer to."
Her hand clutching at the wolven amulet didn't go unseen either. "My dear..." Dorian said in a hushed voice, but it seemed unclear if he wanted to berate or console. "I see you have been keeping secrets from your friends. You've learned from the best, it seemed." He sighed, and she could feel he was hurt that she hadn't confided in him.
"I'm sorry," Ennaly replied, the hurt in his voice made her heart ache, instilling her with more guilt. Her apology felt inadequate, but it was all she could offer now. She hadn't wanted to keep it hidden. She had just been scared of the reactions, scared of her own unstable emotions, and well... avoidance was always easy.
Dorian softened his expression to a comforting smile. "You know, if I were to see him right now, I would gladly give him a piece of my mind for treating you how he did. But let's ignore him, for now. I've got your back, you know that. We all do."
"Of course," Cassandra agreed. "Yet -"
"Nope," Varric interrupted. "Not the time for yet's or but's, Seeker."
Cassandra scoffed. "I merely meant to say I hear sound from below."
They readied their weapons and Ennaly leaned over to Dorian. "Trust me, I've yelled at him enough. I knew since the day you confronted us in the Arbor Wilds," she said. "But thank you."
And yet she did not speak about his involvement with Fen'Harel as they continued on their way. The Eluvians brought them from the Deep Roads to the Fade, and the longer they travelled, the more it became clear her hand wasn't calming down. Desperation grew in her heart as the pain increased, erratically and volatile, and as time went by, it started to spread over her hand towards her wrist.
Desperation that was fed by what they learned in Vir Dirthara, the broken library. The Veil, created, by Fen'Harel? The panicked, confused voices of the trapped Elvhen, repeated from memory by the Archivist, send shivers down their spine. Ennaly remembered the corpses in the Crossroads, and remembered how affected Solas had appeared. He must have known, if he was alive at that time.
If only they weren't pursuing the Qunari, if only her hand wasn't trying to kill her, she would have given anything for the chance to linger in that place, converse with the Archivist and peruse the books. But that was not an option right now. It might be later, after Solas could explain what they have been experiencing.
It must have been beautiful, he had said about the magic of old. He'd been so surprised to see her dancing, surrounding by magic? It made sense he wasn't quite able to resist joining her.
They faced another fresco. And how could she look at this and not see? The figure under the massive wolf was almost life-sized. Believed to be a self-portrait by Fen'Harel? These were Solas' brushstrokes, there was no doubt about it. And her mind wasn't playing tricks. She would recognise the shape of his face everywhere. She had found the notes the Qunari left scattered around, and she understood what all of it meant.
Love had just blinded her three times over.
Once, when she realised he wasn't just a simple apostate, living alone in the woods, but was instead ages old, twice, when she claimed he was to Fen'Harel what Abelas was to Mythal, and then thrice…
She kept her silence. If the others did not see, that was up to them. Varric said her story was almost most romantically tragic than what he wrote? He would have a field day if he knew it all. The Dread Wolf and the Dalish mage.
She had expected that this revelation would have given her anything – grief, anger, scorn, fear? – but there was nothing there besides the knowledge that if she did not find him soon, she might very well die. And meanwhile, the ungrateful snobs of Ferelden and Orlais were angry because they had to save the world once again instead of attending their stupid council.
They freed a dragon, and finally stood to face Viddasala. "Solas tricked us all," the woman declared. "Solas, agent of Fen'Harel."
Ennaly forced a smile in response. So, he was involved, after all, and that meant that before the day was fully over, she would stand to face him. She had known from the moment she sat foot in the mountain sanctuary. She took comfort in the fact that the Qunari didn't know everything. Agent. She supposed that was a good thing, because it meant they would grossly underestimate him.
"Panahedan, Inquisitor. If it is any consolation, Solas will not outlive you," the Qunari said as she stepped through the mirror.
As she wanted to pursue, Ennaly fell to her knees on the stony bridge, clenched over and yelling as the Anchor was spreading. She rose, wiped the sweat from her brow, and tried to keep her distance from her friends in fear that the sparks would arc towards them. She wanted to scoff at Viddasala's remark. For the woman to think she had a chance against Solas was downright foolish. With his immortal body and immense power, Viddasala couldn't win from him, and he would certainly outlive her.
Cole spoke softly as they resolved themselves on following through, after the woman. "Solas doesn't want to hurt people. He isn't that kind of wolf. The Qunari don't see."
"You knew?" she asked Cole, wondering why she was surprised.
"Knew what, Kid?" Varric asked.
"Yes," Cole simply stated, staring at Ennaly.
She shook her head, but couldn't fully supress her yell at the next stab of pain. The power had now fully engulfed her lower arm. "Well, if you all like it or not, I have to find him."
"If he truly orchestrated this, I have an entire list of harsh words to say to him," Dorian proclaimed. "I also have several spells on my mind I'd like to use. I know his weaknesses."
Ennaly scoffed. "He grew more powerful. I doubt any of us would be able to harm him."
"He still bleeds, doesn't he? I've seen him bleed many times after battles," Bull replied, tapping his axe.
"And you know that he grew more powerful how?" Dorian said, getting closer to help to try and offer consolation as another wave of the Anchor hit her.
"You know the answer," Ennaly said through gritted teeth. "I've been seeing him in my dreams, he's been helping me with my hand for two years. I might already be dead without him."
"Ennaly..." Dorian said, again confused if he would rather console or berate.
She laughed. "I've always wondered why," she said. "How did he have so much power over this? At first, I thought it was just skill, then I thought it must be ancient magic he still remembered, but that isn't the full truth. The orb that gave me this power belonged to Fen'Harel."
"And as Fen'Harel's agent..." Bull added pensively.
"Did you know?" Varric repeated incredulous.
Ennaly scoffed. "Yes. I knew it since before he left, after we defeated Corypheus. But I was wrong. I only realised it today, after all that we've seen. Viddasala is wrong, too. He isn't the agent, he is Fen'Harel himself."
They all stared at her, confusion and disbelief written on their faces.
"And Fen'Harel is one of your Gods..." Dorian managed to say.
Bull let out a low whistle. "Damn, Boss. That's... Damn."
"I am sorry," Cassandra added, looking shocked and not knowing what to say.
Ennaly laughed, feeling hollow. "Yes. You can laugh at me later. But I was wrong, as we learned today. About my Gods, about the Veil, about everything."
"But he is not a bad wolf," Cole added. "All he wanted was to right his wrongs."
Cassandra turned to the spirit. "You knew?"
"Shit, Inquisitor, you are more tragic than any story," Varric said, almost in wonder. "If there is anything we can do..."
"Yeah," she replied, oddly touched by his concern. "We can all continue before my hand kills me. We can talk once... Once this is over."
Expressions of compassion pointed her way as Ennaly took a deep breath. They never knew what they would find after stepping through an Eluvian, so they had to fully focus on the worst, ready for the battle.
Dorian edged closer to Ennaly. "Ennaly, dear," he started, seeking her gaze. "Are you alright after this knowledge? I know we discussed your Gods, and to know..."
"I don't know, Dorian." Ennaly looked at him, not quite knowing what to do with the concern and compassion in her friend's eyes. This didn't quite feel as the right time for either of those emotions. She sighed and averted her eyes. "Is a person alright if they figure out that the one they fell in love with is their people's God of Betrayal? And then to figure out they are wrong, for he has been helping free slaves, that their supposedly good Gods enslaved? What is a God even?"
"If it were not for your hand, would you want to see him?"
Unwittingly, Ennaly turned her gaze back to him. She knew the answer in her heart but was unwilling to say it out loud. She wanted nothing more. She needed it, not just for answers, but she needed to see him in the Waking World again. Her expression turned mournful, and before Dorian could recognise her unsaid words, she turned away again.
"Andraste's balls, Ennaly, do you still love him, knowing all of this?"
Their eyes locked again, disbelief now in Dorian's. "If I say no, will that make you happy?"
He shook his head, defeated. "Dear, you are tragic."
"Tragic, and soon to be dead. Come on." He rose and pulled Ennaly to her feet. They all nodded, ready to continue on, another Eluvian, another fight, and another blast from the Anchor, so intense it swept her off her feet. The sparks engulfed her entire lower arms now, creeping slowly towards her elbow. When the power discharged, the pain was unbearable.
But as they sped onwards, more realisations entered her mind. It was Solas that had guarded over her in the Fade, after he had broken up with her, because he had known he left her in a place where the Veil was thin, where she was vulnerable.
Another fight, another memory. What had Solas thought, when she had danced around the fire on the Summer Solstice, adding his name to her list, begging for mercy? And at her confession, afterwards, of being afraid, he had appeared so emotional, whispering there was no need to fear.
One more Eluvian, one more surge from the Anchor and the sparks now wrapped around her entire left arm. Even before she and Solas had even kissed the first time, she'd claimed herself to the Dread Wolf, and he had been standing there. How many times must she have cursed with his name?
But finally, they made progress, and managed to kill the powerful Saarebas.
"The power is pulling you apart," Cole muttered, not entirely helpful, as they stared at yet another mirror. Only Viddasala was left, but if they would not find a solution to the Anchor soon, it would pull Ennaly apart.
"Keep your distance, please," she begged, as it sparked again, arcing erratically around her, threatening to harm anything that came too close. "Let's just... continue."
She was afraid of hurting her friends, and they were afraid for her. She saw the dire expressions on their faces, helpless in aiding her. They respected her wish and kept her distance, allowing Ennaly to wipe away her tears unseen. There was nothing more they could do, after all.
The fear of death ached in her soul, almost too afraid to continue, but more afraid to stop. There were still people relying on her, and she had come to far to give up. Just one more... If she just focused on that, eventually she would reach the end. Resolute, Ennaly stepped through the Eluvian.
Author's Note: Yeah, I don't know either what I was thinking when I said it would only take one more chapter + epilogue. It got way too long, so instead, I broke the chapter in two. I'll post the final chapter next Friday, and then the epilogue on Sunday. End on dates that are important to you, right? May 21st is my 1 year wedding anniversary, so might as well celebrate happy love with tragic love!