Keeper to the Inquisition

A large wolfen statue of the Emerald Knights watched over the four of them as they were enjoying their midday break. Bull and Dorian were lounging in the sunlight on their backs, Solas was sitting in quiet meditation while Ennaly was surrounded by purple flowers, making a chain, softly singing in Elven to herself. The horses were tied to nearby trees.

When they had seen this clearing, Ennaly had declared it perfect for their break. The flowers were known to her as June's Lilies. They were suitably named after the God of Craft since their stems were flexible and perfect to weave without breaking. After picking, they lasted a long time before they dried, all while keeping their vibrancy. They reminded Ennaly of her childhood, when they would all sing and weave them together for the spring festival. She had a special love for them because their colour matched the purple in her eyes so much, it inspired the colour of her Vallaslin.

"Did you choose the designs on your body and face?" Dorian asked suddenly, breaking the silence. Everybody looked up. "All Dalish have it, right? Flattering as it is on your cheekbones, and alluring on your body, could you have chosen anything else?"

"What, my Vallaslin?" Ennaly asked surprised, and touched her cheek with her free hand. She flushed, wishing last night hadn't happened.

They had camped near a little stream and she had just taken a soak to wash herself. They always had a few hours in the evening, when it was dark, to wind down and relax before going to sleep. Ennaly loved to bathe in natural water, so she treasured the nights when they camped somewhere to allow it.

She had just slipped into her shift, her innermost layer of clothing, when she felt something tickle over her belly. She glanced down, and her heart sank in panic. The fabric was ever so slightly transparent, yet even in the dim light, the dark moving spots were very visible. Unable to breathe, she froze in fear. It took her three seconds to find her wits again, and she shrieked, tore the shift over her head, and flung it to the ground.

But it didn't end there. More dark spots crawled over her skin, their little legs itching. Frantically, she danced around, trying to rid herself of the critters. But even when they seemed gone, the sensation of a thousand tiny legs lingered on her body.

A few seconds later, the others appeared in view, staves and axe in hand. "Are they gone?" she shouted anxiously, trying to see if any were still on her back. Slowly, she came to a halt, heart beating heavy in her throat, as she realised three pairs of eyes were staring at her, while she was utterly naked. They could see everything of her slender Elven figure, the freckles that were scattered over her skin, the purple lines that curled over her torso, and even the burn mark on her left hipbone.

Perhaps she needed to put on some clothing. She looked down at her shift on the grass, wanting to pick it back up, as a few more dark spots moved around upon it. Yelping, she darted behind Dorian and used him as a shield. "Get them away!" she begged, trembling uncontrollably.

Dorian glanced over his shoulder. "Ennaly, really? We thought you were being attacked by a bear, at the very least."

"Impressive vocals," Bull added with a grin.

Solas walked over to the white cloth in the grass and grabbed it, raising it higher. With a flick of a finger, he removed one, and then another. "Spiders?" he asked surprised.

Bull's laugh echoed in the trees. "Our Inquisitor is afraid of spiders?"

"Are they gone?" Ennaly asked meekly, glancing at Solas holding her garment, but still hiding behind Dorian.

Solas inspected the fabric, shook it, and tossed it towards Ennaly. "All gone," he said with just a hint of an amused smile.

Ennay caught the shift, shook it again, deemed it safe, and turned around to pull it over her head. Focus on your surroundings, her Keeper always said. Emotions were dangerous, and the wrong ones could invite demons. Listening to the rustle of the wind through the leaves, she took a deep calming breath.

Gathering whatever could resemble dignity, she accepted that her cheeks were still red. She took a second deep breath, smoothed the front of her shift, and turned around to face the men.

"We have fought giant spiders before," Solas said, the corners of his lips raised.

"They're not as creepy as the tiny ones," she stated, trying to put some decorum back in her voice.

"A lot more lethal, though. These small ones just... crawl. You are Dalish. You must have encountered spiders in all shapes and sizes."

She glared at him. "When I was travelling to the conclave, I had to be careful. So, one night, I slept in a tree. There must have been a spider nest nearby. When I woke up at dawn, the spiders were everywhere. Really, I can still feel them crawling all over..." She shivered again. "I jumped out of the tree, stripped, and ran to the nearby river. I believe I scared a shepherd too, who had just started his day."

"Pale naked Elf screaming and running to a river? Would've scared anyone," Bull laughed heartily.

"Well, if this had happened to you, you wouldn't be fond of spiders either," she replied sharply, before clearing her throat. "So, yes. Spiders. I can deal with them, just not when they're inside my clothes or on my body. They give me the creeps."

"I do have to say your Vallaslin is quite captivating, now that I know what it looks like," Dorian noted.

"Glad to be of service," Ennaly said sarcastically, passing Solas to approach the tree where her clothes hung, trying very hard to avoid looking at him in her embarrassment for exposing herself like this.

"Do Dalish men have it as well?" Dorian asked with sudden interest.

Ennaly turned around. Despite herself, she had to grin at Dorian's expression. "Some do. I don't know what you're thinking, but know that it hurt like nothing I've experienced before. I nearly fainted. The ones on our faces, the first ones we receive, are like a rite of passage for adulthood. You're not allowed to cry."

"How very Qunari of you," Bull said. "Some divisions have similar rites."

Ennaly suddenly jumped up at a feeling on her leg and a yelp escaped her. Bull and Dorian couldn't suppress another laugh, and she turned to them. "If any of you uses this against me…" she threatened.

"Come on," Dorian said. "We might tease, but we're not cruel. I'm not too fond of spiders either."

"Too scary for a city boy?" Bull taunted, and while he and Dorian bickered, Ennaly turned around to inspect the clothing left on the tree. With a shudder, she saw that there were more spiders around. Must have been another damned nest.

Upon watching her shiver, Solas seemingly took pity on her and started to help. She never realised just how many items of clothing she wore on a daily basis until Solas handed them to her one at a time. She was already wearing her shift, but there were her breeches, a long-sleeved tunic and vest, the lengths of linen she used to wrap her breasts, lengths of leather for her feet, sashes for her waist, her belt…

"Thank you. And I'm sorry," Ennaly said in a low voice as Solas handed her her breeches. She checked the pockets and was glad to find all her bracelets and hairpin still in there.

"There is no need to apologise," Solas replied with compassion. "We are all afraid of something."

"What are you afraid of?" she asked, wondering what could make a man like Solas lose his composure.

"I hope we shall never have to face that. Least of all with a lack of clothing," he teased as he handed her the final spider-free garment.

"Thank you," she said again, face still flustered. She peered at him from over the pile of bundled clothes in her arms, and appreciated the teasing. It made her feel a little less self-conscious. "I'll just go back and gather my dignity now, or what's left of it. The water is yours."

He had given her a final compassionate smile. "I shall try and not be eaten by spiders," he said dryly, but not unkindly.

Ennaly shook the memory away. At least now everybody knew how the lines of her Vallaslin curled over her body and they could stop trying to imagine it. She paused with the flower crown unfinished in her lap and traced the lines on her cheek. Even if she couldn't see them, she knew the placement of all of them.

"I choose them," she started, answering Dorian's question. "This represents devotion to Mythal. The Vallaslin on our faces are for each of our Gods. And in addition to that, an archer might extend Andruil's Vallaslin to their arms, to hope for strength when drawing a bow. A crafter might have June's Vallaslin on their hands to grant them nimbleness, as my mother has. And I…"

She placed her hand slightly below her breasts, in the centre. Under her clothes was a knot of purple lines, swirling over each other and twisting up and around her breasts. "I wanted something to improve my magical powers. When you're casting a spell, you need to draw from the magic within yourself, to manipulate and warp the Veil to create the effects you desire. This –" she emphasised the knot, "– is where I draw my magic from. I guide the power through my body, to my hands, and that is where I cast the spell from. Solas and Dorian might relate."

"No, it is different for me," Dorian mused. "It's more like I draw from the innate magic around me, and then channel –"

"Creepy magic talk," Bull interrupted.

Solas however, looked at her like he understood what she was saying. His gaze made her feel like he could see the source of magic inside her, branching through her body like her Vallaslin did, a network of fine purple lines, parallel to her bloodstream. She looked away before the intensity of his gaze would cause her to fluster.

"And those other lines?" Dorian asked, drawing her back to the present.

"Oh," Ennaly said, hoping they'd ignore that. On her lower belly, now hidden by her breeches, was a similar V-shaped pattern as on her cheeks. On her left hip bone was a burn mark the size of her palm, contorting the line ends of the Vallaslin there. Their meaning might have been clear enough by shape and location alone. "Mythal is the patron Goddess of motherhood, after all, in addition to the Protector of the People and She who Brings Justice. She always seemed to represent my values in life, so I always knew this was what I wanted. I was named First of my clan, meaning it would be my natural task to protect them all. It just seemed fitting to me."

She looked down at her almost-finished project and tied the stems in a circle. Pleased with her handiwork, she placed the flower crown on her head.

"And now it's like you're the First of the Inquisition," Dorian commented. She was glad he ignored her earlier spoken words. Bull's sharp eye, however, lingered on her lower belly. She wished he would look away. She didn't look at Solas.

"You know a First is just the First in line, right, not the head of a clan?" she said. "If anything, it's like I'm Keeper. I got a sword, but I should have gotten a ring depicting Fen'Harel."

"The Dread Wolf," Dorian said, having read up on Elven history.

Ennaly looked at him appreciatively. "Keepers wear a Sylvanwood ring with a wolf head as a promise of protection, a reminder of our duty to protect the clan from him." She could hear Solas shift his position and her eyes darted to him. She still felt some embarrassment of what happened yesterday, and lashed out. "And you probably disagree with all of this."

"I said no such thing," he said, affronted.

"You didn't have to, I could see it in your eyes," Ennaly said, which wasn't technically true, but she was reminded again of those beginning days when he was so dismissive of the Dalish. She raised. "Let's go, before this wolf statue topples over, takes us all, and I fail my duties as Keeper to the Inquisition."

Riding on her horse, Ennaly felt good again. It had taken them a few days on horseback to reach the Emerald Graves, but ever since they stepped out of Skyhold, she felt more at ease. There were fewer people around, and no need for formal clothing or dinners with nobles. It was just her and her companions in the outdoor air, fighting demons, closing rifts, helping around, gathering information, and spreading word of the Inquisition.

After another hour of riding, they neared an open section of farmland surrounding a group of houses. "Something is wrong," Bull said as they were riding alongside the fields. "Why is there no one outside, tending to the land? It is too quiet here."

They all agreed, something was wrong. When they got nearer to the houses, they tied their horses to the fence to go and inspect. As they passed the first house to have a view of the little square in between the houses, Ennaly gasped. The sight that greeted them wasn't anything she wished to encounter. Human bodies scattered the square, their blood having stained the light dirt a dark ruddy brown.

"Who would do such a thing?" Dorian uttered in horror as they walked through the carnage. These people weren't dead for long, a day at most.

"Demons?" Bull suggested.

"I see arrows," Solas commented as they walked on.

Ennaly's eyes fell on the body of a little girl lying next to a woman with a similar hair colour. Tears started to roll down her cheeks. "Whoever did this were demons," she said, kneeling down. "An innocent child?"

"Perhaps the civil war has reached this place too?" Dorian theorised. "I'm going to look for survivors."

As Ennay's eye fell on the arrows that pierced the bodies, her vision blurred before her eyes. She recognized the craft of the arrows, the material used. They were very clearly…

"Dalish," Solas said coldly, throwing aside a loose arrow he had been inspecting. "There must be a clan nearby."

Their eyes met, Solas' filled with cold anger, Ennaly's filled with disbelieving dread. She looked away, feeling shaken to her core. What had happened here? Revenge? A raid?

"There don't seem to be any survivors," Dorian said, exiting one of the houses. "Everything is plundered."

"We have to leave," Bull grunted, cursing under his breath.

"Is there nothing we can do?" Ennaly begged.

"We cannot be found like this," Solas said. "You least of all."

Ennaly didn't want to believe what had happened here. But if they were found like this… She bore the mark of the Dalish on her face, and no mark on her palm was going to save her. With trembling hands, she took the crown of June's Lilies from her head and placed them on the head of the little girl. Dorian gently took her by the shoulders and guided her back to their horses.

She followed the horse in front of her, hardly knowing whom it belonged to. She had to know what had happened here, or she couldn't live with herself. Nothing could justify the slaughter of an innocent child, but perhaps it was an accident? Perhaps this was an act of vengeance because the humans took something, or someone, from the Dalish?

After an hour's ride, her wish was granted.

"Halt," a voice commanded. From between the trees, green-and-brown-clad Elves emerged, pointing arrows at them. A young woman stepped out in front of the others, a staff in her hand rather than a bow. She wasn't wearing a Keeper's coat, so perhaps she was the First?

"You cannot trespass here," the woman said.

"Anath ara," Ennaly greeted, putting down her hood to reveal the Vallaslin that marked her as one of them.

"You're Dalish?" the woman asked in surprise.

Ennaly guided her horse past Bull's to be in front. He shot her a guarded look, unable to understand their Elven conversation.

"I am Ennaly, First of clan Lavellan, and Inquisitor to the Inquisition," she spoke in Elven. "I humbly request a safe passage for me and my companions to confer with your Keeper."

"I have heard of you," the woman said, answering in Elven. "I am Lamaira, First of clan Nomaris. We will honour your request. Follow." She was young, barely twenty, with the lines of Falon'Din on her face.

Nomaris. Ennaly had known the previous First of that clan when she herself was as young as this girl. It wasn't a happy thought, and if that man was Keeper now… A feeling of regret started to gnaw at her. She knew that after voicing her wish to speak to their Keeper, the Elves would never let them go before the task was performed. But if the Keeper was who she feared... He wouldn't let them go that easily either.

What was she getting herself into? She should have requested to be left alone.

Solas pulled his horse closer to her. Out of her companions, only he was able to understand the words they had spoken. "I hope you know what you are doing," he whispered sharply. "If these Elves are responsible for what we witnessed…"

She was dreading that she didn't. She might have willingly let herself and her friends in a trap. If she had, she would make sure they'd get out of there in as many pieces as they were right now. But whatever they would find at the camp, there might be answers there. "I have to know," she hissed back. "I'll get us out of here. Trust me."

He looked at her, his eyes shielded from emotion. "You are the Inquisitor," he said, before halting his horse to relay the message to Dorian.

A short ride later, they passed the statue of Fen'Harel and entered the Dalish encampment. Whatever nervousness Ennaly had felt faded away as she dismounted her horse and left it in the care of the halla master. The faces here might be unfamiliar to her, but the sight of the hustle and bustle of the Dalish camp was not. After months of being in unfamiliar places, it did feel a little like returning home.

She passed an aravel that was so decorated with dried June's Lilies, you could hardly see the wood. It reminded her of her mother's aravel and the way she decorated it as a child. The comforting scents of spices and plants thrown in the fire brought back memories of less worrisome times. Around were the familiar sounds of a group of laughing women weaving baskets, a fletcher making arrows, a group of children listening to their Elder, cooks preparing food near a large open fire, and the familiar hum of arrows speeding to a mark on a tree as archers were training nearby. It was truly a community of people working together, all contributing to their overall welfare.

She could almost trick herself, if she closed her eyes, that she was home. If she opened her eyes, she would surely see her mother among the woodcarvers, her hair braided on top of her head, decorated with feathers. She missed her dearly.

"Is this like you used to live?" Dorian asked in wonder.

"Very similar, yes," she replied with a warm smile.

"Remarkable," he commented. "I hope you can get us out of here again too, though. Before they shoot me for the lack of a pointed ear."

As she glanced around, she saw why he felt so uncomfortable. All around, lined faces looked towards them, mostly at Bull and Dorian. They had likely never seen a Qunari before and held apprehension for a Human in their midst. "I'll protect you," she said, mimicking the words he spoke to her when they were just blasted forward in time.

They continued their path until Dorian made a soft clucking noise. "I wouldn't mind seeing where his Vallaslin ends," he said quietly so only they could hear, and all of them turned to look at whoever he was referring to. Ennaly's heart sank as her eyes fell on a sight she did not want to see.

The man in front of her was familiar. Ten years older than she had seen him last, in his forties now, he was still as handsome as he'd been before. His hair was fashioned in an intricate braid, pulled tight at the sides and taller at the top, the ends falling down to his mid-back, decorated with wooden beads and feathers. On his face were Elgar'nan's signs in a deep green, matching his eyes. There was a time when she had thought it romantic, both of their Vallaslin matching their eyes, the all-mother and all-father together.

She once hoped to never again lay eyes on him again. Flashes of memory passed before her eyes. In the moonlight, he saying he loved her. His cruel laugh. Him saying it was her Dalish duty, her replying he didn't have to hurt her, she wanted it, too. Him leaving, and the feeling of relief that she'd never have to see him again.

Involuntarily, she clenched her fists. Bull's eyes darted towards her at her sharp intake of breath. She had to steel herself, tell herself she could do this, she had to. Seeing him made her feel like she was twenty years old again, innocent, dutiful, trusting towards other Elves. She has since learned how to come up for herself, but then, when she was young, she believed everything this man said to her.

And now he was wearing a Keeper's coat. It looked good on his toned frame, the green colour matching his Vallaslin and eyes well. He rose from his chair after sharing a few whispered words with Lamaira. Ennaly saw how his hand was placed on her waist as she spoke into his ear. Clearly, he hadn't changed.

The edges of his Vallaslin were visible at his hands and his neck. He prided himself on being able to withstand the pain of all the additions he made. His entire body was covered in swirling green lines. She had once considered it exciting, but really, she should have taken it as a warning. "You really don't want to know," she said to Dorian before she took a step forward. "Keeper Anarel Nomaris," she spoke in a curt greeting.

"So... Lady Inquisitor, they call you now," Keeper Anarel replied in Elven, laughing. "I have heard of you. Who thought it was little old Ennaly Lavellan all along! You're no lady."

"And you're no lord," Ennaly responded, already dreading every word of this conversation. "That still leaves me with Inquisitor."

"You're still quite the sight, little fawn," Anarel continued. She couldn't help but flinch at hearing one of his old pet names for her. He didn't notice as he let his eyes dart over her friends. "And what an interesting bunch of companions you travel with. A shemlen mage, a mindless brute and a..." His eyes stopped on Solas. To her delight, he had to look up. "Flat-eared circle..."

"I suggest you do not insult anyone," Ennaly said sharply, shooting a worried eye at Solas. All of this was her fault. They didn't want to be here, Solas least of all. She made a mistake. And she should have told Solas to feign not being able to speak Elven. If he knew, Anarel would try and insult him, and she wasn't quite certain how Solas would react to that. But it was too late to warn him now.

"Greetings, Keeper," Solas said. "I have to correct you, I am not a circle mage."

"You speak Elven?" Anarel asked, clearly surprised.

"Anyone with a desire for knowledge can learn a language," Solas replied, keeping up a respectful appearance.

"Tell me," Anaral started, a cocky smile on his face. He shot a short look to Ennaly before looking back to Solas. "Does she still squirm when you lick..."

"I don't think that requires finishing, does it," Ennaly said hastily, hating the man. Of course, worse than just insults, he had to humiliate her as much as possible. They hadn't parted on good footing, those ten years ago. She saw Solas raising his eyebrows and shooting her a side glance she didn't quite meet.

"I simply assumed you replaced me with the next available Elven mage," Anarel said, still a cocky smile on his face. "Must have been sad to realise you couldn't find a Dalish one that wanted you."

"Don't flatter yourself," Ennaly replied haughtily. "Whatever you left behind did not require replacing. Solas here is my companion, like the others are. We are here on Inquisition business."

"Really?" Anarel continued. He looked at Solas in an appraising way before he turned to Ennaly again. "How is Anarion?"

"He was… doing well. Growing into his magic. Deshanna is teaching him now."

Solas eyed them both quietly. He'd heard the name Deshanna before when Ennaly had been talking about her magic, taught by her Keeper, but Anarion was a name she'd never mentioned.

"Anarion, my son," Anarel said to Solas with a grin.

Ennaly saw a frown appear on Solas' face as he shot her another puzzled side-glance. He had seen the Vallaslin on her lower belly, and could probably guess what it represented. Did he really think…? She sighed. "Not mine," she said, annoyed.

"No, because we all know, you can't –" Anarel taunted, before Ennaly interrupted him.

"I had hoped for a polite conversation, to confer, Keeper to Keeper. You can consider me Keeper to the Inquisition, after all."

Anarel laughed. "Keeper to the Inquisition. Sure. Amusing concept, but if you want to confer, you need a First."

"You can consider me," Solas replied, his voice sharp and unamused. It was clear he disliked the man in front of him.

Anarel regarded him again, long and slow. "Solas, it was? A First is supposed to be younger than the Keeper, not older. But sure... Why not. I'll entertain you." He stretched his hands wide in a mocking bow. It seemed like he hadn't lost his fondness for theatrics. He spoke to some Elves at his side, who nodded and started to walk around, gathering things to create a conversation area.

Ennaly exhaled deeply when Anarel turned around, her hands trembling. "I am so sorry," she said to Solas.

"It is he who should be sorry," Solas replied, staring daggers at the back of the Keeper's head. "Are you alright?"

"What did he say?" Dorian asked. He and Bull couldn't understand the Elven they spoke.

"Nothing that bears repeating," Ennaly hissed back. "He likes baiting people."

"I take it you know him," Bull observed.

She sighed, feeling helpless. "Regrettably, yes. Moments of my past I'd like to forget, from when I was young and naïve and easily influenced by a handsome face and false sweet words. He was at my clan for two years when we were both Firsts, for… sharing knowledge."

"Ah," Dorian commented when he understood her unspoken words. He observed the Keeper, now busy giving orders to others. "He really is rather handsome."

"He's also a swine," Ennaly added with heat.

"What happened?" Dorian continued, surprised at her words.

"He turned out to be quite… unkind. And… he got another girl pregnant," she answered airily. "She was even younger than me. They have a son now. Anarion. Everyone was so happy for the chance to have a new mage. He is still with my clan, with his mother."

"That's… Pretty horrendous," Dorian said aghast. Bull observed her shrewdly.

"I hoped to never see him again. Turns out that we don't always get what we wish for."

"Are you sure you want to talk to him?" Solas asked, concerned but apprehensive.

"If you think he's just going to let me walk away without taunting me some more, you don't know what kind of man he is." She tilted her head upwards to the canopy of leaves overhead and sighed. "I'm not here on personal business. He's older now, and Keeper of this clan. I am older. He's not going to let me leave without talking anyway, so we might as well. He could have information."

"Will you be alright?" Dorian asked, concerned.

"I have faced Corypheus. I can deal with a former lover."

She wished she hadn't spoken that last word out loud, but she couldn't take it back now. And having faced the first and survived, she almost preferred another stare down with a would-be God than willingly converse with Anarel, but it was not a choice to make.

"I take it there must be at least a dozen hidden arrows pointed at us right now," Solas stated, an unexpected sharpness to his voice.

She flushed. "Probably."

Bull wanted to reach for his weapon.

"Don't," Ennaly hissed.

"I suddenly understand your dislike for the Dalish, Solas," Dorian noted, uncomfortably looking around.

"My clan was not like this," Ennaly replied heatedly, but in her heart, she wasn't quite sure. What would she have done if an unlikely group such as them entered? She took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly to calm herself. "You can all hate on the Dalish later. Let's survive this first."

Further ahead, Anarel was giving out orders, his hair sweeping over his back. She remembered the first time he turned forceful. She thought she'd done something wrong and deserved it. That's what he made her think, at least, and Gods, she hated him now for what he'd done. And she hated being under his power here even more, knowing she willingly walked in.

She turned to Solas. The least she could do was be honest. "He is never going to take me seriously. He only agreed because he considers you an interesting rival. You're unfamiliar, you're a mage, you're aligned to me, you're taller than him. All things he sees as a challenge. He wants to show you he's better. He's a prideful man."

A grin spread on Solas' face. "So am I."

Almost involuntarily, Ennaly grinned back. "Yeah. He really seemed to like your name."

"What?" Dorian asked curiously.

"Solas means pride," Ennaly explained.

"Really?" Dorian said, looking at Solas with renewed interest. "I didn't know. What does Ennaly mean?"

"Nothing, it's from an old story my mother loved, that features a strong mage. My mother was no mage, but my father was, and my mother simply hoped I'd gain his powers. She got that wish."

"It is derived from emma lin," Solas said, surprising Ennaly as well as Bull and Dorian.

"My blood?" Ennaly translated.

Solas gave her a soft smile. "Most Elves today would use lin to mean blood, but power or magic are fitting words too. I believe it to be the etymological root for Lyrium. And besides the possessive my, emma can also be used to mean filled with, or within. So, if you want a translation contemporary to the tale you mentioned, I propose filled with power, or magic within. Quite fitting for you."

Ennaly stared at him. "I never knew," she said, temporarily thrown off guard, before she glanced at the mark on her hand. "That almost sounds prophetic in a way I wish it didn't."

Solas' smile turned a little mournful. "You were powerful before you received the Anchor. And keep it in mind when you have to face him," he said, gesturing towards the Keeper.

That threw Ennaly back to the here and now. "Right," she said, bolstering her resolution before looking up to Solas, a little hesitantly. "Know that he likes playing games. He's going to try and figure out how he can get to me and you. He is going to say things you probably don't want to hear."

Yesterday evening, she was thinking about what could make a man like Solas lose his composure, thinking about fear. But now she thought that if there was something that could make him break through his calm demeanour, excessive taunting likely would. Solas' smile faded from his face as he regarded the Keeper. "I have met enough self-obsessed bastards in my time to know how this one will act."

"Don't let his words get to you, Boss," Bull said. "You're better than him. And if you want us to go into action, just give us a sign."

Ennaly sighed, feeling uneasy. "I really hope it will not end with that, for all of our sakes."

Dorian still looked around uncomfortably as Bull observed everything with the sharp eye of the Ben-Hassrath. The group of children were no longer listening to their Elder but were instead ogling him, having never seen anyone like him. Bull looked at them, and the children were seemingly torn between fear and curiosity. Bull made a funny face and some of the kids jumped up and down in laughter.

Perhaps it wouldn't be all too bad. No matter the situation, it felt good to be in the camp, surrounded by scents and sights that were familiar to her. There were no weird Human rules to adhere to, and all faces around had pointed ears and coloured lines. They couldn't really be so barbaric as killing innocent children, could they?