This is an edit of my old story with the same name. Since publishing, I rewrote everything and incorporated new themes into it. My original idea was to update the old story, but I felt that wouldn't be true to what it was. So instead, I upload it as a new chapter.
This story will follow the general game story-line, but adds events to give more context, scrambles others for interest, and focuses on the in-between such as travel times. We might meet some minor OC's here and there to flesh out events. I'll consider this my canon for DA:D.
There are several trigger warnings to this story that I would like you warn you about before reading: sexual abuse (in past, not described to high detail) and infertility. But overall, I wanted to write a genuine love story that is heartfelt, tender, sometimes a little wicked, and of course tragic. Two souls seeking connection, but are ultimately star-crossed lovers.
I would love to hear comments or thoughts about the story!
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 sent 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 raised her left hand towards the green shimmering tears in the sky and could feel the mark on her palm pound with anticipation, not quite pain, but not quite pleasant either. It took her all the power and will she could muster to call forth a beam of green energy, raw and volatile. The force of it jerking at the tears of the rift made the bracelets on her arms clatter together, the beads made of wood and stone. With a loud boom, the rift imploded.
Instead of the shimmering tears, only the early night sky was visible above the Elven mage. Ennaly welcomed the cool breeze on her sweaty forehead as a deafening silence spread over the battlefield. You never noticed how loud a battle was, crackling magic, shrieking demons, and singing steel, 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, pain shot through her ankle, and she cried out. Both women looked down to find that Ennaly's foot had a slightly wrong angle about it. It didn't look good. During the fight, 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.
"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. Ennaly unwrapped her foot and prepared herself for the worst as Cassandra reset the bone. Even if she saw it coming, she wasn't able to suppress a cry of pain. Gratefully, she accepted the potion Varric handed her and gulped it down with shaking hands.
She sighed with 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, to knit back muscle and bone.
It didn't do the full trick, though.
"A little help, Chuckles?" Varric called to the other Elven mage, who was standing some distance away.
Solas appeared, mostly unscathed from the battle, and kneeled down near Ennaly. His eyes met hers before he looked down and placed his hands on her ankle. They were warm, she noticed, but perhaps it was just the magic he started to channel. A soft light blue glow appeared between his hands, the sensation 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 in the next few days. Try not to 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 followed the lines of her Vallaslin. A small frown appeared on his face.
She pulled her foot back and started wrapping it again, 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."
They all looked around at Solas, who was casually leaning on his staff now, observing their surroundings.
Bull scoffed. "Well, he was all the way over there, not in the centre of the fray, that's almost cheating."
Solas turned around to regard him. "I remember you appreciating that barrier when the demon was about to blast you," he remarked sharply.
"Save it for your fellow mages, next time," Bull replied. "I'm fine either way."
Ennaly sighed. With a group as diverse as they were, there were bound to be people who just butted heads together. Luckily, they were able to put aside their differences whenever they had to fight, and already got quite accustomed to each other's strengths and weaknesses.
But no matter Bull's words, out of all of them, he had obtained 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 to Haven on foot.
"Camp here?" Dorian asked the group after they were done tending to their wounds.
"I'd rather not. This place gives me the creeps now," Ennaly responded, trying to get up, but winced and sat down again. "I might need some help, though, getting on a horse."
Before she could so much as protest or agree, Bull picked her up as if she weighed less than his battleaxe, and sat her down on her horse. A few months ago, Ennaly had never ridden on a horse before, but she grew to like her amber-coloured mare. Collectively, they followed Cassandra's lead and half an hour later, they found a nice spot near a stream where they could wash.
"I will be glad to be back in Haven tomorrow," Dorian said. "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. Since childhood, she preferred to sleep under the night sky whenever the weather was dry. Nothing beat a cloudless sky and being able to count stars before dozing off.
Humans were weird for needing a roof above their head. The Dalish only took to their aravels on particularly cold or rainy nights. Ennaly could never understand the concept of Human castles and mansions. How lonely must it be to dwell in empty rooms, with so much wasted space? But despite her distaste, she accepted her little hut in Haven, 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 their sweat and battle grime. Ennaly was used to bathing together, men, women, children, and the elderly. Most of the Dalish felt no shame in their skin, but it was a mistake she had learned the first time trying to bathe during their travels. She didn't want to repeat that embarrassment ever again, and over time, she'd gotten used to the solitude. Cassandra occasionally joined her, because for some reason, Humans thought was fine if you were with your own gender.
This evening, Cassandra supported Ennaly to the waterside. Their camp was situated in a small clearing in a pine forest with a stream that rushed down from the hills. Nearby bushes offered the privacy that the Humans valued so much. Ennaly closed her eyes as the cold water alleviated the strain on her ankle. The cold never held her back and she waded to the middle of the stream where the water was 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. She only bathed one body part at a time, clearly less comfortable in the late winter chill.
"It's quite refreshing," Ennaly said with a smile. She found a smooth stone in the riverbed and started 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 for such frivolous purposes as heating water for a more comfortable wash. Ennaly shrugged. Cassandra could be cold for all she cared. To her perception, this was the perfect evening. The soft sound of cascading water was a pleasant melody to her ears, and if she looked up, she saw the stars shining brightly through the branches.
If she just focussed on her surroundings, she could almost forget the terror of everything that had happened.
But from the other side of the bushes, Varric referred 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, some woman that wasn't of her own faith? 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 it was divine. She believed that Cassandra believed she was the real thing, and if it was true or not, she was willing to help out, so did it really matter in the end?
And no matter how Cassandra had treated her in the beginning, Ennaly was very sure that the Seeker would stay around until the end. And after that conviction, how could she give anything less than her very best? She might do it partly just to spite those who opposed her, and partly to repay those who put their faith in her, but that didn't make it less true.
From the other side of the bushes, she heard the men laugh. She was glad to hear Dorian snort. 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 would have been enough to keep the laughter away from anyone's face for a good long while. Ennaly could see that it affected him still, mostly 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 of them, Ennaly least expected to be travelling with a Qunari. She had never even seen one before him and had imagined living her entire life without ever meeting one.
He had scared her a little when she met him, being all tall and muscled and, well… intense, but he wasn't so intimidating anymore. By now, it made her feel oddly safe to be around someone strong enough to uproot a small tree. Ennaly had witnessed him giving his life for her and Dorian, in that twisted future. How could you not trust someone you've seen sacrificing their life? She'd seen the demons throw his mangled body to the floor, and she'd do everything not to have to witness that again.
Perhaps, in a twisted sense, it was simply guilt. This man didn't even know of that future, and hadn't really sacrificed himself, but she would still do anything to repay the price the would-be him had paid.
And it was the same for Varric. He too, had sacrificed himself, and thus had earned her eternal gratitude. But Varric was different. He had already endeared himself from the beginning, the only one really sympathetic to her when she was still deemed a prisoner. He had been the stable presence to keep her grounded and not collapse under the pressure of her new title. Doe, he'd called her in those early days, when it had just been him, her, Cassandra and Solas.
And Solas... Her fellow Elf remained a bit of a mystery. At first, she had been happy to see another Elven mage not belonging to a circle, but it didn't take long to learn of his dislike for the Dalish. It wasn't like he was being unkind. He was cordial enough, warm at times, and she could listen to his stories for evenings on end. But she couldn't ignore the way he looked at the Vallaslin on her cheekbones from time to time. The purple lines were the best visual representation of her Dalish ancestry, and he simply wasn't always able to keep his dislike from his gaze.
His loss, she thought.
After dressing again, Cassandra helped support her hobble back to the camp. The men had finished washing sooner and had started to build a fire. Among the four of them, all races were represented and clearly, they were enjoying their diversity by playfully jabbing prejudices against each other.
"While we're sharing surprises, Solas, you've done a lot less dancing naked in the moonlight than expected," Dorian stated.
"Tevinter lore about Elves remains accurate as always," Solas replied dryly.
Dorian sighed dramatically. "I wanted to see you make flowers bloom with your song, just once."
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, and 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 said appreciatively.
Solas looked at her, oddly impassive. "Leave it to a Dalish to enforce this image of Elves."
She grinned and reached behind her head to pin her braid up with a simple wooden stick. Curiously, she regarded him. He was certainly a lot less expressive than she was, but surely… "Come on, you can't seriously tell me you've never ever danced naked in the moonlight. Not even in the Fade?"
Slowly, his lip 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.
"Huh... So it is true?" Dorian asked. "If you feel the urge, there's a lovely patch of moonlight there." He tittered a laugh and waved to the other side of the clearing.
Solas followed his direction, before looking 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 grin on Solas' face had widened. It was a joke.
"Or when a halla and a nug cross paths before your eye," she added, wanting to join the teasing.
Solas turned to look at her, smile still on his face. "In that case, you have to answer the call without delay."
Surprised that he continued to play along, Ennaly returned the smile. 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."
But instead of laughing, the smile faded from his face. Looking a little puzzled, his eyes darted over her Vallaslin, and an instant frown appeared on his brow. Right. He didn't like the Dalish.
Dorian shook his head, realising he had been fooled, and 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.
"I'll have to hold my tongue, Varric, lest I'll be a character in your next raunchy tale," she said with a smile. "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. An Elf without a marred hand.
"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 replied.
"Cheap? That hurts, Chuckles," Varric said with a disappointed sigh. "Think about it though. Two Elven mages, questing together for a greater cause, but in the end, they find themselves on opposite sides of a conflict... Will their love endure?" He mused for a moment, staring into the flames of the campfire. "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…"
While he searched in his pack for a journal to make notes, Dorian revealed a bottle of some drink and filled some small cups with the golden liquid. He handed the drinks to everybody and Ennaly sniffed it, blinking her eyes as she noticed how strong it was.
Dorian raised his glass, a broad smile on his face. "To the happy days of dancing naked in the moonlight," he declared. "Might they soon return!"