Your Words

"Solas?" she asked, quiet enough so she wouldn't disturb the serene silence of the night air.

She held her breath and thought that Solas surely must be asleep already, when the door opened. "Herald," he replied surprised and took a step forward when he noticed her unstable wobble. "Please, sit down," he added as he took her arm for support and led her to a chair. "I heard you all laughing in Dorian's hut earlier."

"I fell asleep," Ennaly confessed and gladly took the cup of water Solas offered her. "And when I awoke, they were asleep." She took a gulp, the cold liquid soothing on her parched throat. "I saw light on here, and thought… I'd thought to come here."

A sudden wave of melancholy hit her as she put the cup down. Not wanting to give in to it, she let her eyes wander around the room. She'd never been in here before. Solas had been one of the lucky early ones to join their cause, and had been able to acquire a hut as opposed to a tent. Dorian, having arrived later than many others, had only managed to obtain his by whatever devious means.

Just like her own hut, his had minimal personal decoration. Many books lay scattered around, overflowing from the table onto almost all possible surfaces. It surprised her to see disorganisation, having expected him to neatly stack everything. She knew he did research in their off time, so the books must be related to that. But most interesting of all was a large painting on the wall above the bed, depicting a large tree with curly roots. The colours looked fresh, an odd contrast with the rest of the faded colours in the hut. Had he painted it?

"Can I help you with anything?" Solas asked, his tone friendly. It sounded a little concerned, or was it apprehension?

Ennaly turned to look at him. She didn't really know what she had expected, coming here. There was something about Solas that was always… stoic. She wished she could suppress her own emotions as easily.

A new wave of melancholy hit her. Was it because of the stiff drink? Defeated, she buried her face in her hands to try and shake it away. It only helped a little bit. She sighed, resigned to her emotion, and gazed at the painting of the tree. It was the only leafy tree in Haven that was currently green, and that gave her comfort. "I don't know. I thought…" She sighed again, not quite knowing what she thought. "You must think me foolish."

"I think no such thing," Solas replied, looking at her with sharp eyes. "You have been through a lot in a short period of time. From a prisoner to being called the Herald. It would be strange had it not affected you."

The words were consoling. She supposed he was right, but they had all been through a lot in a short period of time.

"You seem to be able to keep your cool, no matter the circumstances," she stated.

Solas chuckled. "Well. I am older, am I not? And I am not at the centre of this hurricane, that is you."

Curious now, Ennaly narrowed her eyes. She had never been good at guessing someone's age. "You're not that much older than I am. I am thirty-one."

The chuckle on his face settled into a smile. "I am old enough to consider that young, Lethallan."

The use of Elvish surprised Ennaly, but she welcomed it. "Well… if you're willing… I could do with another tale as a distraction. I'd rather not be swept away by this hurricane, after all."

The smile briefly grew in acceptance of her request and he started another tale.

Solas' way with words and soft voice was the perfect distraction. His words painted brushstrokes on her mind's canvas and she could imagine his tales come to life, like she could walk around in them. He described Arlathan, a beautiful city of crystal spire, alive with magic, and a place where Elvhen walked without being called knife-ear. It made Ennaly yearn for bygone times.

"I wish I had been born then," she said wistfully as Solas finished his tale. She looked up, and was surprised to see a hint of sadness in his eyes. But as she locked his gaze, his eyes trailed off to follow the lines of her Vallaslin. His look of sadness increased, and for a moment, anger roared alongside it.

"Does my Vallaslin displease you?" she asked a little sharply, annoyed by his expression. "I see you looking at times, and all it ever does is make you frown. Do you dislike the Dalish so much?"

Her directness surprised her as much as Solas. He adjusted his posture in his chair, and sat up straight. An unexpected intensity overtook him that took Ennaly's breath away. She couldn't quite make sense of it. He looked up, eyes locking with her, his filled with an almost soul-clenching hurt.

A static charge grew in the atmosphere. Blood rose to Ennaly's cheeks as a faint flutter awoke in her heart. She wondered if she could even utter a sound if she tried. But at the same time, she had to say something, or this static charge would detonate and sweep her away.

"It's Mythal's," she whispered quietly, her voice almost faltering. "You know, my Vallaslin, it is to revere... Mythal."

"Mythal," he muttered back slowly. He blinked, broke eye contact, and broke the spell.

Ennaly sat still, not able to move, her heart pounding. The charge was fading from the air, but the flutter in her stomach remained. Whatever it was, she needed a moment to recover.

Solas didn't seem to need the same. There was a mask again, on his face. "It suits you," he said finally, his tone back to normal. "As a matter of fact, the purple compliments the colour of your eyes most beautifully."

Ennaly couldn't believe her ears as a soft flush crept onto her cheeks. It seemed so out of character for Solas to have said those words. "Don't deflect the question with flattery," she accused.

But Solas had his reply ready. "It was no flattery," he replied, smooth as ever. "Flattery is insincere. This was a statement. The purple in your Vallaslin brings out the purple in your eyes. Even among Elves purple is a rare colour. They are quite beautiful. I am certain you yourself are aware of your finer qualities."

Ennaly looked at him, uncertain if she felt admiration or annoyance for his stoic expression. Trying to still the flutter that crept into her heart, she averted her eyes. Surely that was just a remnant of whatever hung in the air? And what could she possibly reply? She hardly wanted to give in to his words. However, she liked her own eyes, bluish-purple with a dark purple ring around her iris. The purple lines of her Vallaslin made her eyes appear more purple than blue. She did consider it her best feature.

But to hear Solas call it out like that...

"Well, yes... No... Maybe," she muttered, cursing at herself. Gathering courage, she faced Solas, knowing her face was still flushed. Besides a smug and amused smile, he appeared completely calm. "You seem to have a great dislike for my people," she said finally. "I just wonder why, what wrong have we done upon you?"

The smile faded as he leaned back in his chair. "I have no intention of arguing your... heritage," he said, choosing the word carefully.

"Well, I'd like to remove this unspoken barrier between us," Ennaly argued. "You might have dreamed about the ancient Elves and had the freedom to do so, but I lived through the legacy. Why don't you feel more connection toward us?"

She had wanted it to be an argument, an accusation, but her last words came out more like a plea. Only now did she realise that was her greatest longing here, connection. There weren't that many people around that could understand what she'd been through. Most Elves here were city Elves, and thus had grown up so differently than she, and besides, they weren't mages. A few carried Vallaslin, but they all seemed to have left their Dalish lives behind them.

And no matter how much she cherished Dorian and Varric, they couldn't understand this.

"I am sorry," Solas said compassionately, grasping at her unspoken plea.

Ennaly released another mournful sigh. "I think we all wished things went differently at the conclave. I sometimes wonder what would have happened if I had never journeyed away."

"Do you wish you were back at your clan?" Solas asked, oddly impassive.

She contemplated his words. "I don't know," she confessed. "I mean, if this wasn't going on, sure." Defeated, she raised her marked hand and spread a soft green glow. "But even if another person had carried this, how could I not join this cause? It's threatening everything and everyone. I can't walk away, not really… And all of you stay here voluntarily. And when this mess is fixed, it has still changed me, hasn't it? It changed everything. I can never go back to how things were before, simply because things aren't as before."

"And what if you could change it back to how it used to be?"

Solas seemed less aware of his surroundings, less guarded than she'd ever seen him. "I still don't know," she replied, observing him curiously. "While I don't see as many faults with the Dalish as you clearly do, there were still hardships in our lives. Human-related, mostly. I mean, if I could go way back, sure. I won't say no to having a stroll in Arlathan."

She laughed, trying to break the sudden tension, but it was short-lived. Solas kept staring at his folded hands for a few moments, before shaking away a thought. Distracted, he grabbed his cup of water and drank.

"You've been telling me all those ancient stories," Ennaly continued. "Why not share those with the Dalish? I'm sure most of us would be interested to listen. I am."

Solas shifted back to his usual stoic posture. "I have attempted that. Most care little about improving their lives. They already consider themselves perfect, the sole keepers of Elvhen lore. They wouldn't listen to an unmarked Elf, a flat-ear. Neither my tales nor myself ever found a welcome there. Liar. Fool. Madman. There are endless ways to say someone isn't worth listening to. Over time, it grinds away at you."

His statement took Ennaly aback. She knew he travelled alone, and being rejected by those with whom he might have hoped to find unity and understanding, sounded devastatingly lonely.

"I am sorry. You did not deserve that," she said quietly.

Solas shrugged, as if he had left that behind him. "Perhaps your clan would have listened. They were interested enough in outside affairs to send you to the conclave."

"Well yes, it would impact us too, the result of this conflict," Ennaly said, the reason obvious to her. "We're also inhabitants of Thedas. And there are Elves everywhere, aren't there, also in circles? The brother of my Keeper was captured and sent to one, so yes, we do care what happens."

"You are the First of your Keeper, are you not?" Solas asked.

"Yes," she confirmed. "There was a long time that we were the only mages in my clan, her and me, but another boy has shown signs of magic, a few years ago. If it hadn't been for him, I don't think I would have been allowed to simply leave. We never had the problem Mineave's clan had, where they had access mages and they had to be... sent away."

"Quite a monstrous act."

Ennaly frowned, pausing for a moment. She had thought it a monstrous act too, but it didn't feel good to have a non-Dalish judge them like this. "It is much easier for a sole person to remain free of any danger," she replied sharply. "But when you're taught to one day lead your people... Everything changes. It's not just about what I want or simple black-and-white moralities. I was taught to one day bear the responsibility for the children, the elderly, the ill... No choice was simple."

She shook her head, remembering her old life. There had been happiness there, among the clan, but she would be lying if she said it was all flowers and sunshine. "And yes, sometimes sacrifices had to be made. Don't think I would ever just sacrifice others. I've needed to make many personal sacrifices in the line of duty."

Solas had his eyes on her, brow locked in a frown. Ennaly was unsure if it was in doubt or contemplation, but she didn't wait for an answer. Now that she had started speaking and he was listening, she wanted him to hear her full story. Whatever prejudices he had… Perhaps she could take some away, or at least make him understand.

"There was one constant fact we needed to remember: the Humans would always outnumber us. So, you'd had to be careful with magic. If you made a wrong move, if there were Humans who didn't like you, well, they could run off to the Templars and soon you'd have to flee with the entire clan. It has happened. That also means that you need to forget about revenge. There were always Humans around that would thrust themselves on our girls, or kill hunters, just because they could. And we couldn't always do anything, couldn't take the revenge we might desire.

Trading was hard. Sometimes we needed supplies that we couldn't gather or make ourselves, so trade was the only option. From when I was a teenager, our Keeper would take me with her, to teach me how to interact. Some Humans were kind. Some were not."

Ennaly paused to take a breath as memories flooded back to her. "We'll trade it for a kiss, they'd taunt. What could I do? Would I let my pride stand in the way of providing help to my people? What is a good leader supposed to do? If one of your clan members requires medicine to save her life, sometimes all you can do... all you can do is accept their cruel demands, grit your teeth, and hope it would be over soon."

A ringing silence hung in the air. Embarrassed, Ennaly averted her eyes, unsure if she regretted saying it out loud. It had been a while since she thought about the events, preferring to keep them buried in a dark corner of her mind. Memories of rain resurfaced, but unwilling to revisit them, Ennaly managed to stash them away again.

Yes, she did wish she could swallow back the words. It was an awful confession of an awful event, and the last thing she wanted, was her companions thinking less of her. Well... Solas never quite held her in high esteem anyway.

She glanced up, committed to defiance, but there was no accusation or disgust in Solas' eyes. Instead, he looked at her with compassion. "I am so sorry," he said, and he seemed it. "I truly am. Nobody should have to experience anything like that. And not being able to use your magic..."

"Well, it was the truth," Ennaly replied defiantly, but the emotion was short-lived and faded at the sight of sorrow on Solas' face. "Well, yes…" she faltered. "I don't need pity nor applause. I was neither a victim nor a hero."

The sorrow in Solas' gaze turned to anger.

"Do you disagree?" Ennaly asked, feeling her fragile confidence failing. Perhaps he did think less of her.

"No," Solas stated sincerely. "I am sorry for the sacrifices you had to make. I just wished it would not have been necessary. I am angry on your behalf. Those Humans…"

Ennaly gazed at him, moved by his anger. This was the spark of connection that had been missing, and she was glad that she wasn't the only Elf. "Don't be," she interrupted with empathy on her face. "It might have been unfair, but I'll live through it. I've made my peace. My clan member lived through her illness, and was able to hold her children in her arms again. And those Humans, well… May the Dread Wolf take them, right?"

Solas' froze, as if she had said something shocking.

"That's just a saying we have," Ennaly muttered, remembering that Solas didn't keep the Elven pantheon. "If you have to be angry at anything, be angry at Humans like those men. Just... don't judge the Dalish too much. Or don't judge me, since I can only vouch for myself." She glanced up, knowing full well what the name Solas meant in Elven. "I do have my pride, alright? Pride that I tried my very best. Know that's it a lot harder when it's not just about you."

It took a while before Solas answered. "Not all clans are like yours. A shame, it seems. The world would have been better for it." A small smile grew on his face that changed his entire demeanour, his voice almost threateningly low. "And you never know. Perhaps the Dread Wolf will take them."

His tone surprised Ennaly. Really, he was even indulging in Dalish phrases now? Certainly, that was for her benefit. The intensity still lingered in his gaze, and a little uneasy, she released a short chuckle. It broke Solas' reverie and he averted his gaze, dissipating all friction in the air.

Ennaly let her eyes wander around the room and the tree above the bed caught her attention again. "Did you paint that?" she asked.

Solas turned around to look. "Yes. I used to paint a lot. I wanted to see if I still could. It is quite meditative."

The brushstrokes were somewhat abstract but lively. The tree looked like it could sway in the breeze. "It's really beautiful, Solas."

"Thank you," he replied, granting her a small smile.

A silence fell between them, but it wasn't an uncomfortable one. Perhaps all discourse had finally settled between them. Ennaly took a deep breath to clear her mind and finally, she felt calm again. "Thank you for talking with me," she said to Solas. "I'm sorry to have barged in here with my arguing, it was never my intention to disturb your peaceful evening."

"There is no need to apologize," he replied. "Your words have made me think."

Ennaly grabbed the cup of water in front of her and emptied it. "I really should get back to my own hut," she said.

"Let me walk you there," Solas offered, already getting to his feet.

The last thing Ennaly wanted was pity, for him to think that she was weak. "I don't need a hero," she replied, but as she got to her feet, her ankle gave way. With a gasp of pain, she dropped on her chair again. "Oh." She turned red. "I'd forgotten about that."

Embarrassed, she glanced up at Solas. Underneath his concern lay a dry smirk. He clearly hadn't forgotten about her injury and offered his arm. Half-annoyed, half-grateful, she took it.

"Your words, not mine," he replied, amused but a little too smug for Ennaly's liking.

"Fine, I'll play the damsel," she replied with a heavy sigh. "But don't think I'll be making doe-eyes at you, even if you said they were pretty."

"I thought that was simply deflection?" Solas said as he lowered his voice. "And I believe the word I used was beautiful."

The melody in his voice had something pleasant about it, something that woke that fluttering feeling in the pit of her stomach. "Sure, you win," she shot back, trying to ignore it. "Don't enjoy it too much."

He chuckled lowly as he paused to open the door. She had never quite noticed how strong he was, but he had no problem with carrying half of her weight. With his proximity, a spicy scent entered her nose, clove and nutmeg. Warm, but somewhat exhilarating.

"I do have to warn you, I do not have a white horse around," Solas noted as he opened the door. Cool air washed over them as they stepped outside in a world covered with a serene blanket of snow.

Ennaly understood his reference to earlier this afternoon, back at the stables. It didn't help the matter. "Hmm no, a horse is not your style," she said, trying to keep her voice casual. "A halla, perhaps?"

"How about a gryphon?"

"No, a dragon?"

He dismissed it. "Too ferocious. Maybe a wyvern?"

"No – I know, a wolf!" Ennaly decided.

"A wolf?" Solas repeated, surprised.

"Yes, that's more your style. Isn't that what you're wearing around your neck, the jawbone?"

A few seconds passed before he replied. "That is true."

She smiled to herself at his almost reluctant confirmation. "So, we agree. A wolf, then."