Dread Wolf Take Me

All clans had an altar for worship set up in a quiet spot a little away from the camp to allow private worship. It had been too long since Ennaly had properly said her prayers and she wanted to have at least that moment before leaving. In the busy and always crowded camp, it was a place where privacy was sacred.

Anarel led her to the clearing, a pretty place, quiet, with the statues of their Gods scattered around. She walked between them, gazing upon the familiar figures carved from stone, eternal, unmoving, observing. She found Mythal's altar and knelt down.

She took a deep breath and looked at the Anchor on her palm. She needed an explanation, some insight, anything, to know what this meant. But as she wanted to start her prayer, she realised she had not heard footsteps turning back. Annoyed, she glanced over her shoulder.

Anarel hadn't left.

"This is a private place for worship," she said, turning back to Mythal. "Please leave me."

Instead of leaving, he stepped closer. "But we are finally alone."

She took another deep breath and rose, turning around to face the man who had hurt her so many times in the past. "Are we really, though? Are you saying there are no bows pointed at me right now from between the trees?"

Anarel's voice turned almost suave. "Of course not. I wanted to be alone with you. No archers, and none of your companions either. It's just you and me now. You don't have to keep pretending to be better than us."

She sighed. "Leave me alone. You're the last person I want to see right now. This is a sacred place."

Anarel laughed, looking her up and down. "I am thinking very holy thoughts right now. You are what… thirty, thirty-one now? You still look good, little First. Could do with losing your Shemlen coat. And everything else, really."

Little First. That is what he used to call her when they were alone. It sounded cute then, when she didn't yet know he was also whispering sweet nothings to those other girls. Now it just made her hair on the back of her neck stand.

"I think that is ten years outside of your normal range, isn't it?" she remarked dryly. "You got older, but the age of your girls did not. Your poor First, you humiliated her, she didn't deserve that. What does she think of this, you being here?"

"She knows I am a free man. How long has it been since anyone touched you?"

Ennaly sighed again. She really didn't want to be having this conversation. "This might surprise you, but there are far more pressing things in life than sex."

Anarel laughed. "So, it has been a long time."

"All you ever did was hurt me," she stated. "You are an idiot if you think I ever want to be with you again."

Carelessly, he reached out to touch her, but she side-stepped and his hand only grasped thin air. It made him laugh again. "So defensive. You might blame me for liking younger girls, but I can blame you for liking older men just as well. I saw how you and that flat-ear looked at each other. He certainly keeps a close eye on you."

"Yes, because he didn't trust you. Surprise, he turned out to be right, you're an ass!"

His voice turned suave. "I just want to ensure you get the care you deserve."

Trying to keep herself collected, she sighed and ran her hands through the loose strands of hair in front of her eyes. She was tired of his japes and wished he'd just leave her alone. But when she opened her eyes, he had moved closer, too close, almost touching, and she took a hurried step back.

"Are you afraid of my touch now?" he asked.

She scoffed. "Afraid, no. I just have no desire for it."

The game of chess wasn't over, that was clear. He looked her straight in the eyes, then closed the distance between them. He was almost a head taller, but she didn't flinch as he reached behind her. She thought he was going to wrap his arms around her and anticipated stepping to the side, but instead…

He pulled on her hairpin. Her braid fell down her back and started to get undone by the wind almost instantly. Without touching her, Anarel pulled his hand back.

"You always looked better with your hair down, little Ennaly."

She looked at the pin in his hand. "Give it back," she demanded, her hand held up in front of her.

Anarel regarded the item. "This isn't Dalish make. You don't need this." And before her eyes, he snapped the delicate stem in half and tossed the jade pieces aside. Before it reached the ground, it hit the stone base of the statue of Falon'Din and shattered further.

Helplessly, Ennaly stared open-mouthed at the shards. Green as they were, they disappeared in the grass. Her friends had given it to her after she closed the Breach. "Do you always just break stuff?" she asked in anger. She could have cried. Perhaps she hadn't realised how much that piece of stone actually meant to her.

He laughed, cruelly. "Not always. I didn't break you. You were already broken."

The words were like a stab of a dagger. She reached out, fast, and slapped him across the face. He reacted fast too, and grabbed her wrist before she pulled away, laughing.

"Let me go," Ennaly demanded.

He pulled on her arm, causing her to lose balance and fall against him. He gently took her chin with his other hand and tilted it up to meet his gaze. It was strange. He wasn't rough, and the look on his face softened. Some delicate quality in his emerald eyes threw her off guard and she didn't struggle.

"Oh, Ennaly," he said, his voice low and soft. "Kind, thoughtful and smart Ennaly. You were always the best of us, weren't you?"

Entranced with his change in demeanour, she stared at him.

"I missed your beautiful purple eyes," he purred. "I shouldn't have said all those things to you. Not today, not those years ago either. You know I forget myself sometimes. Forgive me, ma'sa'lath."

He pressed his lips on hers, and for a moment, Ennaly let him, dumbfounded by his words. His lips were surprisingly gentle. But then she remembered that his words were empty, and he hadn't been kind and soft. He'd been rough, too rough, he'd hurt her, he'd laughed at her, had made her feel worthless, and afterwards, just like now, he'd say sweet words to mess with her mind.

A feeling of illness possessed her, and she wanted to leave. But his grip on her was strong. She didn't have the strength to break free, she tried, hands pushed against his chest, but he was taller, stronger. That hadn't changed.

But she knew more magical tricks now.

She focussed her will, ignoring the sensation of his body against her, drew from the Fade, and released her magic. With a mind blast, she pushed Anarel away from her. Despite the force, he remained standing and laughed.

"I won't let you touch me again, you snake!" she called. "You just want to be able to claim you've slept with the Inquisitor!"

"I have slept with the Inquisitor."

"That was ten years ago. I wasn't the Inquisitor then."

He grinned. "I've learned some tricks over the years. I could give you the satisfaction you deserve."

"Anarel, I have already told you, you are the last person I want to be with."

He took another step. "If not for pleasure, perhaps for business?" She once again stepped back. "Too proud, Ennaly?" he taunted. "You wanted information, resources. I can sell those. The price is simply... You."

Ennaly froze at those words. A few years ago, she had agreed to a similar situation. But... She couldn't, not now. So much was already taken away from her, the Achor already branded on her body. She couldn't give away more, or there would be nothing left. Anarel was a swine, and even if she agreed, he might never hold up his end.

"You are a monster," she spat at the man in front of her.

"And you got feisty," he said with a laughing taunt. "Well, if you don't want to play nice, you can kneel for me."

He extended his hand and released a surge of power. Ennaly could anticipate it coming and reacted by casting a barrier. The oncoming force deflected away.

"Too good for a Dalish man, are you?" Anarel spat at her, steadying himself.

"Certainly not," Ennaly replied tauntingly, anticipating another attack. "But I see no Dalish man here."

A lightning bolt sped her way, but it also deflected on her barrier.

Anarel was getting angry, and he was far from handsome anymore. "Conceited bitch, living high and mighty in your Human castle," he spat. "Do you really think you are better than us now?"

"I certainly know I'm better than you!" She deflected another spell, but every miss angered Anarel further.

"You know what? I don't want you. You are a kin-traitor. Nobody wants you!"

She laughed, cruelly. She didn't know she could make such a sound, had never felt an anger like she felt right now. "Good, that way I don't have to deal with men like you!"

Anarel's breath started to turn shallow. "You belong to Fen'Harel now, traitor!"

"I'd rather be fighting at Fen'Harel's side than hiding in the forest like you do, killing innocent children like bandits, and blind to the real threats out there!"

Another ill-guided lightning bolt. He fought in rage, but even in her anger, she defended with focus. It was easy, really. She didn't want to fight him. They were in a blessed grove here, and all she had to do, was try and maintain her defence.

"You can't hit me," Ennaly taunted back. "You fight like a child, and you're already depleting your mana."

She saw it. Every spell had less power behind it and Anarel's breath ran out. But Ennaly felt good. This simple thing, a focus in a fight, gave her the upper edge. Anarel was a mere bandit, used to kill from the shadows, not duel one-on-one with another mage.

"I fight like a child? At least I can get a child. Did it hurt, seeing my First pregnant, knowing you never could?"

The words didn't even hurt. She was done with it, done with him and his insults. His spells couldn't get to her, and his words neither. With a deep breath, she gathered the power for another mind blast, and pushed Anarel to the away. He lost his footing, but immediately grabbed a dagger from his belt and pointed it towards her.

His mistake had truly been his underestimation of her. She wasn't an accessory, she had her own power and she was strong. A queen is the most powerful piece in chess.

She laughed. "You think you can fight me, the Inquisitor? I have physically walked out of the Fade, the lone survivor of an explosion that flattened a mountaintop. I've had the power of a hundred mages surge through me to close the Breach. I've faced off with a Darkspawn Magister and lived, and I've fought heaps of demons and closed dozens of rifts, and you think you can fight me?"

Power ran through her veins as she gazed down at the man on the ground. His face was torn between awe, fear, and defiance, and he made another move as if he was going to jump up and attack with the dagger.

"If you attack me one more time, I will attack back," Ennaly promised. She stepped closer and called fire to her palm. It illuminated her face and made her hair dance in the raw entropy. She waited a moment, and Anarel let his hands fall down. "Now, you said you wanted to give me the satisfaction I deserve. Nothing will satisfy me more than your apology, so if you know what's good for you, apologise."

He looked at her, mouth agape, not saying anything.

Checkmate.

"Apologise," Ennaly repeated. "There is no one around, so you don't have to worry about your precious pride."

"I - I'm sorry," the man muttered, seemingly shrinking in on himself.

"With my title," Ennaly demanded. "That's what you wanted, isn't it?"

Anarel looked like he was going to disagree. Ennaly, not done yet, raised her left hand as well. It took her no effort to make the Anchor surge with magic.

"You know about this mark," she spat. "The Shemlen name me Herald of Andrastre. But I know what this really is. This mark is placed upon my hand by our Gods. Would you truly defy me, who carries the legacy of ancient Elven power?"

She stood bent over him, illuminated with magic of her own making. In this holy clearing, they were surrounded by the white statues that represented their Gods, illuminated by the anchor. For Anarel, they seemingly came to live as green spirits looming behind Ennaly.

"Apologise, with my title, or fear their wrath."

"I'm sorry, Inquisitor," Anarel said, looking at her in utter shock.

"That's with lady in there. Once more."

"I'm sorry, Lady Inquisitor."

Ennaly looked down and smiled. Yes, it satisfied her to see him say that. "Good. Now, if you see Inquisition agents, you'd better help them and offer any information you come upon. If you defy me, you defy your very Gods, and Elgar'nan's revenge will be turned on you. Now, leave."

Breathing deeply, Ennaly let the fire die down and folded her arms. She watched as the man scrambled to his feet, gave her a last shocked look, and left. Her body trembled in residual anger, but she hardly noticed.

Movement to her right caught her eye. There, a little distance away between the trees, were Dorian and Solas, casually leaning on their staffs, with Bull looming behind them.

"Really, were you there the whole time?" Ennaly asked in anger, emotions still howling through her body, as she strode in their direction.

Dorian visibly recoiled at her look of rage. "We literally swore to protect you on our travels," he stated. "Of course, we would keep an eye on you. We gathered the horses and followed where you went."

"I didn't think that you needed it," Bull added hastily at the look of fire in her eyes. "I never thought to be intimidated by something a fifth of my size, but damn. That was pretty hot, Boss. I couldn't understand a word, but oof, you really showed him, didn't you?"

"Are you alright, though?" Dorian asked concerned.

"Am I alright?" Ennaly repeated with a laugh. Currently, the anger in her raged louder than any other emotion and being alright was not a concept currently available to her. Her eyes fell on Solas. He was standing tall, his posture all kingly again, but not without concern. There was something else close to the surface. Pride?

"I see you were all speeding towards my protection when he grabbed me," she said angrily, looking at all in turn.

"We were going to," Dorian replied, dignified. "But before we could step in, you'd already helped yourself."

"What if I'd accepted his offer? I don't quite appreciate onlookers."

"What offer?" Dorian asked, not having understood the conversation.

Ennaly realised that only her fellow Elf had understood everything, and turned to him.

"You wouldn't have," Solas said compassionately.

Rage still burned in her eyes. "What?" she said, irritable and sharp. "How do you know what I would or would not have done?"

"He treated you badly from the moment he saw you. You once told me the most unpleasant Elf you knew carried Elgar'nan's Vallaslin. It was clear you meant him. And besides... You carry too much love for your Gods. You would never have, not there, and you would never agree to go back with him either."

The words surprised her, but it was his gaze that kept her. He was right, of course. It was also strangely comforting. For some reason, he'd understood her well enough to accurately estimate her behaviour.

"You can be proud of yourself," Solas added. "No matter what happened... You are strong. You dominated him without ever casting an offensive spell. That is not nothing, Ennaly."

"It was badass, that is what it was," Bull agreed.

"Yeah," Ennaly said carefully, as an involuntary smile appeared on her face. "You know what? Maybe I am proud of myself." She turned back to Solas and felt an unexplainable connection. "I've never understood you more than I understand you now, Solas. Are you happy? I finally share some of your hatred for the Dalish. I've turned my back on this clan. Harellan indeed."

Kin-traitor, the Elven word Anarel had used for her. The pride in Solas' eyes overtook his concern as an amused smile grew on his face. There was that wonderous admiration again, but she paid it no heed as she walked to her horse, Dorian quickly jumping aside. "Come on, I want to find something to kill."

"We could also just find you a suitable man in the next village, someone nicer than this damned Keeper," Bull suggested. "Seems just as effective."

"I am done with men," Ennaly declared. "Besides..." she added dramatically, forgetting he hadn't understood Elven. Her hair swept behind her, no longer pinned up in a bun. "Didn't you hear Anarel? I belong to Fen'Harel now. Dread Wolf take me."

Bull and Dorian just looked confused. She climbed on her horse, before looking back at Solas. His amused smile had turned into a prideful smirk. "Ask him," she said. "He heard that swine's words. I'm sure he can provide you with the translation and context you need."

But Solas kept his mouth shut, curled in his smirk.