His Power

Ennaly awoke with a gasp, the events of her dream still sharp in her mind. A second, lower-pitched gasp echoed from somewhere on the other side of the smouldering campfire. Confused if she was more angry or hurt, she shook the blankets away and tried to get up as quietly as she could. She had no intention of waking anyone else and involving them in this. Silently, she strode the bedroll at the other side of the camp, where she could see a stirring figure.

She leaned over, catching the glimmer of a dark grey eye. "You," she accused, her words sharp like daggers. "Follow. Me."

Solas flinched at her tone, but didn't struggle as she grabbed his wrist in an iron hold. With only a semblance of his normal grace, he rose to his feet, almost stumbling as she pulled him behind her.

Someone must have been keeping guard, but Ennaly didn't know who, didn't have an eye for anything else but the anger she felt for her fellow Elf. And if there was someone awake other than them, they didn't make their presence known.

A quick glance behind her told her that Solas was trying very hard to keep his face impassive, but didn't entirely succeed. Almost stumbling herself, she quickly faced forward again to keep an eye on her footing. She kept an iron grip on his wrist and dragged him along into the darkness, her braid swishing over her back in a rhythm with her angry steps.

Gods, had all of that really happened? Had she really danced with Solas in Haven, caressed his face, confessed her feelings?

"Did you enjoy tricking me like that?" she accused angrily as they were out of earshot of the camp. The flickering of the Anchor was the only illumination on their path, bright enough to see their footing, but not bright enough to see more than a few feet. Small critters scurried away at the sound of their stomping, up into the tall trees that this place was known for.

"I am sorry, that was never my intention," Solas' voice sounded behind her, soft and apologetic, filled with a silent plea.

His intention? The words only made the anger inside Ennaly roar, and deeming them far away from the camp, she turned around. Solas hadn't expected the sudden move and almost bumped into her, when she pushed him to a tree.

"What did you intend to do, then?" she asked sharply, leaning against him but tilting her head back to look up at his face. She silently cursed that he was so much taller than she. He could have easily pushed her back, but he didn't.

His expression was sorrowful as he gazed down at her, his hands held up defensively. "I have seen you having a hard time, these last days," he started, the plea still audible in his words. "You had not been sleeping well. I simply wished to offer you some comfort, sleep without nightmares, memories of a place where you had known some joy."

Their breath fogged together as they stood there silently, Ennaly's hands still on his chest. Some gentle shimmer in his eyes caught her attention, and for a short second, her resolve faltered. The last days had been so hard, some of the hardest she had ever known. How could you deal with a loss of faith?

She wasn't sure if she believed his words. But Solas wouldn't really lie, would he? He was always the type that preferred silence even to a white lie. He had taken her to Haven, and she had felt a moment of joy there.

Confused, she lowered her eyes. All she saw was Solas' bare chest, him wearing only his breeches. Quickly, she pulled her hands away. The last thing she wanted was to lean against him while he was half-naked.

But no... Whatever he claimed, this was his fault. Anger ablaze again, she cast her eyes upwards, ready to leash out and hurt as she herself felt hurt. "And you thought the Fade was the perfect place, colloquially known as the place of demons?" she spat, and pushed against his chest once more for emphasis, before she stepped back.

Solas slowly lowered his arms to his side. "That is my mistake," he pleaded. "I should have realised..."

"Yes, you should have realised, how this appeared to me," she shot back. "You are smart enough to know I fancied you, don't deny it."

In all the time she knew him, Solas had rarely been at a loss for words. But here he was, gazing down at her. He tried several times to start speaking, but faltered on every first word. Locked in inner conflict, he gave up the attempt.

Their breath fogged together in the silence. Ennaly felt too angry to be embarrassed. She had kissed him, had caressed his damned face. How could he have let that happen?

She glanced back at him and noticed his eyes slowly descending over her figure. To her horror, Ennaly realised she was clad in nothing more than her shift, the thin material clinging to her skin. Her arms and most of her legs bare, the shift didn't hide much of her torso. The fine linen was already ever so slightly transparent, but more so in the green light from the Anchor. Gods, she must appear like a spirit in the green illumination, and being naked would have hardly been more revealing.

Anger slowly washed away in the sudden sense of self-awareness, to be replaced with... Embarrassment? Sorrow? Mortification?

Solas' eyes snapped back at hers and locked her gaze. He must have held his breath as nothing fogged in front of him. He appeared as spirit-like as she did, but almost ghostly with his rigid, unreadable expression.

Something inside Ennaly broke, and all anger left her. Feeling like a shell of her former self, she crossed her arms. With the Anchor tucked away, they were both hidden in midnight darkness. If she was going to cry, she certainly wasn't going to let him see it.

"Leave," she demanded in a low voice, barely more than a whisper. "I know when I'm not wanted. I want to be alone."

Several moments of darkness passed, but no footsteps crunched on the leafy soil to indicate Solas' departure.

Five heartbeats later, his voice sounded, never appearing more vulnerable. "It is not that simple."

A loud silence rang between them.

Ennaly swallowed, wondering why he hadn't left. "What are you saying?" she asked apprehensively.

"You are the Inquisitor," he continued. "You have duties and responsibilities."

"I'm just a woman, Solas."

"And I... I am not the man for you. I have done... You should forget about me in this way, Ennaly."

She unfurled her arms again, and gentle illumination lit both of them anew. The void that the anger left behind filled with curiosity. The sorrow she so often saw behind Solas' eyes had grown, like a metaphorical shadow taking him over. An unseen power buzzed inside him, unexpected, but raw and emotional.

He wasn't just the unassuming, smart, studious apostate he seemed to be. He never was. And it was strange to her, that here, cloaked in a power she did not know he possessed, he appeared more vulnerable to her than she'd ever seen him.

They'd all have a past, that was clear. What had he done, killed children like Anarel and his clan? She couldn't imagine it. Yet... Was that perhaps the reason he had been so distraught after they left the Dalish camp? No... He had only been like that after she told her story.

A new thought entered her mind as she remembered his finger trailing over her collarbone. All the things she had done in the Fade, she'd done to the actual Solas, not the demon she thought he was. She kissed him, and afterwards… "You tried to kiss me back," she said, her voice a wonder.

The man in front of her faltered. "I – No. I did no such thing."

Delighted, she laughed in disbelieving wonder, some pressure lifting from her mind. "Yes, you did. You pulled me closer. I thought it was the demon, but there never was a demon. That was you." She stared at him, her mouth a little ajar at this realisation.

He looked back at her, and for once, she could read his expression. Clearly conflicted, it seemed like he really didn't know what he should be doing. But this was Solas. He always knew what he was doing, and almost always had an answer ready. And now he was flustered, actually flustered. "It... It was ill-considered, I should not have done it," he said.

She tried to find words for a reply, but nothing could form on her lips. Solas shook his head, as if that was the only way he could break their locked gaze. "It has been a long time," he stated. "And things have always been easier for me in the Fade."

Easier, ill-considered, but he never said undesired. "But at least a part of you wanted it," she concluded.

He lowered his gaze, as if facing her was too hard. "I will not deny that." She noticed his intake of breath as his eye fell over her body, barely covered in the green-lit fabric. He couldn't look at her long, and turned away to a spot at her left.

But she no longer cared that he could see her body. He had seen her naked more than once, and they were already baring their souls here. "Why deny it at all?" she asked quietly, not daring to be hopeful. "I'm interested in you. I didn't plan for it, yet it happened. You happened."

He looked at her again, his gaze full of wonder, with a familiar sense of tenderness, and Ennaly remembered his expression in the Fade. She'd wished the real Solas would look at her like that, but it turned out that he already had.

She found herself standing closer to him. Had she taken a step, or had he? Did she dare to hope? Breath held, she reached out her hand, and let her fingertips graze his cheek. Slowly, she flattened her hand against his skin and cupped his jaw. His exhale fogged warm in the cold night, as he closed his eyes to lean into her touch.

"This could be more than just an ill-considered dream," she said, her voice barely more than a whisper as she pulled her hand back.

He opened his eyes, his breath jagged. Slowly, he extended his own hand. Just with his fingertips, he brushed her shoulder and descended slowly but deliberately down over her arm, as if he were trying to hold onto a fading, fragile dream.

A small gasp escaped her. Who knew a touch could carry emotion, could awaken something in her that had been asleep for a long time. Her breath fogged irregularly, nervously awaiting his response. Certainly, he must be able to see her body's reaction to his caress. There was something in the way he touched her, as if he was savouring the sense of her, imprinting it in his mind. The back of his fingers trailed down over her waist to her hip, the thin fabric barely a barrier between their skin.

With an intake of breath, he shifted his hand towards the small of her back and pulled her closer, but not close enough so their bodies fully touched. Ennaly was unable to think, besides dreading him to pull away.

But he didn't. He remained where he was, the pressure on her back from his hand felt just right.

"You change everything," he whispered, his voice low.

He leaned over her, his face just several inches away. Daring to give into hope again, she lifted her own hand and gently touched his jaw. When he didn't protest, she moved her hand to the back of his neck. In their wake, her fingers brushed his ear, and an immediate gasp escaped him.

So his ears were sensitive? She supposed that was good to know.

The inch of distance between their bodies was entirely too much. She wanted him closer, wanted to feel his body against her own. She pulled him near, their legs and hips touching, but their torsos still arched away. Their breath mingled together, both irregular in anticipation of what awaited them a mere inch away.

His gaze was locked on her lips now, and she wanted nothing more than to taste him, again. Again? To think that she had kissed him already in the Fade gave her all the encouragement she needed.

He said she changed everything, whatever everything was.

"Do I, now?" she murmured, before she pressed her lips against his. It was a short kiss, a little longer than she had done in the Fade, but not nearly as long as she wished. It left her wanting more, but her daring ended here. Expectantly, she parted and leaned back, readying herself for rejection. But before she could fully lean back, strong hands wrapped around her and gently prevented her from stepping away.

The look in Solas' eyes turned from tender to longing, then hunger and lust. This time, he was the one to pull her closer, as he kissed her again.

It took her breath away.

But after a few seconds, entirely too soon, he parted. He gazed at her, shaking his head, as if he couldn't believe what he was doing. Ennaly couldn't help but smile back encouragingly. This was exactly what she wanted to be doing. Whatever distance remained between them was removed as Solas pulled her eagerly against him, and with an earnestness that was almost unexpected, leaned in for another kiss.

It started as a longing for connection, gentle, sweet. His bare chest was cold as she ran her fingers over his skin, but he warmed up quickly under their embrace. His hands, the hands she deemed so beautiful, trailed over her own body. They traced a gentle circle at the nape of her neck, trailed down over her shoulder with confidence, and moved to her collarbone. Days ago, he'd trailed the same lines, but where he stopped a few inches down, he now continued. Slender fingers grazed over her breasts, cupping them.

An immediate spark shot through her body and she gasped against his lips. The thin cloth of her shift might as well not be there.

Gods, it had felt like ages since someone touched her like this. Had anyone ever touched her like this? How could a touch make you feel beautiful? But Solas' touch did, just by the way he let his fingers glide over her body, as if he needed to commit her to memory. Gently, his fingers let her body guide their movement, seemingly savouring every little dip and curve, so sensual she couldn't help but softly moan under his fingers.

It seemed to encourage him.

And then the kiss was so much more. It was no longer a want for connection, but a need, a necessity they had to abide by. It was clear he wanted her as much as she wanted him.

Had it been like that all this time?

His lips against her, she could feel the muscles in his back ripple as he found his way towards her bottom. Without wavering, he slipped his hands under the hem of her shift to feel her curves, skin-to-skin, her bottom to the small of her back.

Next thing she knew, he pushed her to a nearby tree, pinning her place. She hadn't registered that he had picked her up, but her legs were wrapped around his hips, so he must have. Hot lips left hers to trail down to her neck, the cold skin quickly warming up.

She gasped again. It was as if every touch of him was like magic.

No, she realised. It wasn't like magic, it was actual magic. She could recognise the familiar feel of his power as it ran over her body, teasing her skin in places his hands had never touched her.

And then it stopped.

But she didn't want it to stop.

"Solas," she breathed, her lips close to his ears, a plea for him to continue.

Encouraged by her word, he resumed again, and Ennaly could feel her surrendering herself in the sensation. It was strange, to have his magic dancing around her, pressing down, almost taking over. At times she wanted to fight it, show that she was stronger, but at the same, it felt good to not be in control, to let someone else have all the answers. All she had to do was follow.

She trusted him and arched against him, wanting to be as close as she could.

Lost in the feeling, she could do nothing more than clutch at his back, torn between resisting and allowing it to take over. Solas did not seem to mind. He kissed her neck, moved back to her lips, and up to her ears. He was whispering words to her, but she couldn't parse them. They were Elven, she thought, but she couldn't be sure.

But she didn't want to give in, she could resist it. Even if she wanted to cry out for him to stop, it was overwhelming, she couldn't, because at the same time, it felt better than anything she'd known before. This was magic, she had trained all her life to channel it, to resist it, and she took a certain pride in her abilities. But even without this display of power, she knew that between herself and Solas, Ennaly was not the stronger mage. He knew feats of magic she would never accomplish.

It was no defeat to give in.

She could feel the tension fall away for just a moment as she surrendered herself, before it returned, building slowly, stronger now. Her breath fully halted. Surely this was too much, or not enough, and yet it was everything.

Soft moans were all that escaped her lips, her breath against Solas' ear, and she trembled against him, fingernails digging into his back.

"Fascinating," he said in quiet approval, his voice barely audible. He had used that word before, when his magic surged through her for the first time to channel the Anchor, in the little hut in Haven. Was this what he had been thinking about?

Ennaly slowly gained awareness of her surroundings, the shift clinging to her sweaty form, the rough texture of the tree to her back, and Solas' face nuzzled in the bend of her neck, nibbling on her skin, allowing her to recover her breath.

She finally detached herself from him, her feet on the ground again, not pinned against the tree. "That was…" she started, but she didn't have the words or breath to finish. She'd been completely under his power, under his control, but she didn't feel threatened. If anything, she felt like something closed between them and they were on equal footing. By taking her like this, he'd crowned her his queen.

Solas responded by kissing her lips again, sweet, tender, taking away the need to find words to describe the feeling. How had it been for him? She desired to know his body and let her fingers glide over his arms, his chest and finally to his hips. His body told her his desires, and eager to explore more, she tugged at the top of his breeches.

She had expected him to respond with the same eagerness. What she did not expect was Solas breaking off the kiss, suddenly and hurried, and leaning back. Ennaly stopped her attempt at trying to undo his breeches and looked up at him, surprised by the sudden distant look on his face. "Don't you want…?"

He placed his hands above her elbows and pulled away gently, so she could no longer touch him. "No," he said, his voice low, his eyes averted. "This was… I am not certain this is the best idea."

The words took moments to fully reach Ennaly's understanding. Did he not desire her? He didn't strike her as the man to be shy, not after what he'd done to her and the confidence he had done it in. But as she sought his gaze, his expression was almost scared. Perhaps he had some bad experiences in his past?

He didn't have to be afraid, not with her. "There could be room in my heart for you, if you'd let it," she said softly.

She wished he would look at her, but he didn't. "It has been a long time," he muttered, still distanced. "I… need time to think…"

With him releasing his control over her, she could feel her own confidence waver. Confused now and vulnerable, she felt like a girl experiencing love for the first time. So much for feeling like a queen.

"Of… of course," Ennaly replied, but it was as if a ghost uttered the words. "I - I can wait."

And finally, Solas looked up to her again and caught her eye. For a moment, he leaned in closer, his breath suspended. Another kiss? But he halted, thought the better of it, and stepped away, fully releasing her.

"We should go back to camp," he said instead.

Ennaly could only nod and follow him, feeling like she left a part of herself pinned to that tree. She felt like she was floating through the Veil, not quite here and not quite there. They hadn't even taken off their clothes. His hands hadn't even slipped between her legs.

She didn't want to know if anyone else was awake, so when they got back, she kept her head down, and laid down in her bedroll. The events of the entire night haunted her mind for what felt like hours, before sleep took her.

While normally being one of the first to wake, Ennaly awoke late the next morning. She could hear the others walking around, but kept her eyes closed, wishing that last night had been a dream.

Had she really kissed Solas? Had he really kissed her?

Well, if it hadn't been a dream, he had certainly done more than just kiss. Even the memory made her flush. She didn't think she could muster the courage to get out of her bedroll and face Solas – by the Gods, no!

But wishing wouldn't do much. They had to continue, and remaining here under the blankets wouldn't solve anything. Mustering her resolve, she sat up, but kept her back to the others. To her embarrassment, she noticed pieces of bark stuck in her braid and remembered being pushed against a tree. Her hands unsteady, she began to undo her braid to clean her hair.

The sound of splashing water entered her ears and she shot a furtive over her shoulder. Dorian was lounging with the book he had taken with him, already fully dressed and groomed. Bull was busy with a workout routine, and she could see Dorian scowling at him from above his book, as if his grunts were distracting. Bull seemed aware of it, but ignored it completely. Solas was crouched near the pond, back to them all, still no tunic on, washing his face and torso. He also must have just woken up. Ennaly turned around again.

"Say, Solas, can you scratch your own back?" Bull's voice sounded.

"Is this the prelude to a joke, Bull?" Solas asked in return, his voice flat. "I am not in the mood for japes."

"It is a mere observation." The amusement in Bull's voice was undeniable.

Solas seemed to realise what he was actually talking about at the same time Ennaly did. Those were the marks from her fingernails.

"Ah," Solas said.

"I see the marks are also going in the wrong direction," Bull continued. "Your hand can't make that angle. Besides, the marks don't match your hands. There is only one pair of hands here that could make them."

Ennaly could feel all three pairs of eyes landing on her back, and wished she would cease to exist.

"I'm ready for the next Fade rift to engulf me," she said, only half turned around. She couldn't face Solas. They hadn't even, not really at least, done much more besides kissing and touching. Magical touches, certainly, but Bull and Dorian probably had different things in mind.

"If you need someone to be the butt end of your jokes, Bull, use me, but leave her alone," Solas commented. Ennaly supposed she needed to appreciate that, but it only increased her feeling of insignificance.

"Ho, I'm not about to make jokes here. Good on you two."

It took Solas a moment to answer. "Thank you, Bull."

But Bull laughed loudly. "Remember when I joked about finding a man for Ennaly in the next village? Who knew he was here right along."

Ennaly could feel her wish to cease existing increase. "Yes, I'm dying of laughter, can you hear?" she replied sarcastically, still facing away from the others.

"Didn't you also say you were done with men?" Bull continued. "That you belonged to the Dire Wolf or something. Well Solas, that makes you..."

"Bull," Solas said sharply. "Stop it."

Bull stopped and seemed to reconsider the situation. "Right. Sorry."

Ennaly shot another glance backwards and caught Dorian's eye, who looked at her with compassion and glee. "Come Bull, they clearly have something to work through," he said, grabbing Bull's arm. "Don't do anything we wouldn't do!" He yelled back and she heard the two of them leaving.

After a short silence, a soft pair of footsteps approached her. "It would be easier to talk if you turned around," Solas' soft voice sounded.

"Well, get used to my back, that'll all you're getting," Ennaly responded, too embarrassed to turn around. You should forget about me in this way, Ennaly, he had said to her before he kissed her like he needed her and showed her all the things he could do with his magical powers. Well, that was going to be even harder after last night. If only Bull hadn't spotted... "I'm sorry for the scratches," she added in a low voice. "I didn't intend to hurt you."

A soft chuckle. "I am quite alright. I only regret that Bull had to see it and make conclusions."

Conclusions. "Yeah, I wish this could have been kept between us," Ennaly responded. Us. There suddenly was this new, weird concept that erupted from last night's events. Some kind of bond had formed between them. Feeling her embarrassment fade, Ennaly turned around where she sat, her loose hair free from most pieces of bark.

Solas had put his tunic on again. She had touched him, his neck, his jaws, his ears. It was strange to remember. And yet Solas remained calm as always, like the events hadn't really got through to him.

Had it meant nothing to him, just a bout of passion at seeing her body?

"Did I do something wrong?" she begged. It didn't make sense. If it had been a bout of passion, then why did he her stop before her she could return the… what, favour?

Certainly, that made less sense. It felt like a fever dream. She wished it had been.

But Solas' gaze softened at her plea. "No, no. Don't think that, please. You were…" he started quickly, clearly conflicted. For a moment, he seemed to want to reach forward and touch her, but thought the better of it and leaned back. He sighed, a grunt as if he was angry with himself. "I am sorry. I should not have done any of the things last night. You did not do anything wrong, it is just…"

His eyes met hers, soft silver in the early morning light. They widened slightly and followed the shape of her neck and bare shoulder, before averting his gaze. "You change everything."

"I change everything?" she repeated, still puzzled. He said that during the night too.

His eyes snapped back. "Yes," he stated with some raw honesty. "I… It is as I said last night. I need time to think."

His tone made her falter. So... whatever happened had affected him, one way or another.

Gods… the things he had made her feel.

"What did you do, really? With your magic?" she asked in wonder. "I mean, that was... I have been with other mages before, as you know, but they didn't…" She paused, searching for words. "I didn't…" Her voice trailed off.

A chuckle escaped him, almost out of self-deprecation. Ennaly wasn't quite sure if she wanted to hit him or kiss him. "Well, I have certainly learned some... tricks... over the years. Magic has more practical uses than offence or defence," he said casually. But against his will, a wicked smile flashed just on the corner of his lips.

"So, you learned it in the Fade," she said, eyeing him.

"In… a manner of speaking, yes," he responded and shifted apologetically, leaning closer, but never quite close enough to touch. Ennaly imagined him entangled with spirit entities, bodyless, but surging magic through each other. "I apologise, I should not have sprung that upon you without a warning. I did not mean... It was wrong of me."

Wrong? "Oh no, you absolutely should have," Ennaly declared, unapologetically staring back, and stood up. Raised, she was taller than he was sitting on the ground. A rare moment where she could look down on him, and she found she enjoyed the perspective. "It was no complaint. Whatever that was... damn." Another soft chuckle escaped him. "Besides... You're the one who's bearing the marks now, on your back."

"I have already healed them."

She shook her head disapprovingly. "Shame."

For a moment, their gazes were locked, comfortable and teasing. Ennaly wished they could leave it at that, but the amused grin faded from Solas' lips as he averted his eyes. "Last night was…"

"If you say mistake, I will strangle you," Ennaly stated.

For a moment, Solas looked back up, seemingly tempted to take her bait, but decided against it. "I was going to say passionate," he said with added dignity. "I suppose my boundaries were lowered after that excursion to the Fade."

She crossed her arms. As a result, one of the straps of her shift slipped down a shoulder. She left it there, almost silently daring Solas to take a look at her exposed neck. He had kissed, nibbled it, not hours ago.

"What did you do, visiting me in my dreams like that?" she said, remembering all that came before their moment in the forest. "I mean, I am still angry at you for tricking me like that. My Keeper told me that it has been a very long time since there were any Dreamers. So, naturally, I thought you were a demon."

"I should have realised," Solas said. "As you know, I have trained hard to have full control over my dreams. Your Anchor makes it easy to find you in the Fade, like a beacon, allowing us to share this dream." He looked up at her with amusing wonder, mingled with incredulity. "You danced with me thinking I was a demon, and then kissed me."

She huffed airily. "I wouldn't have done it if I knew it was you," she said, receiving a look of disbelief back, and shrugged. "The demon I thought you were couldn't have harmed me, because it held no power over me. So, why not dance and kiss? I'd dance with a spirit, if I got the chance. I know when I am in control."

A suppressed grin spread over Solas' face, and Ennaly was again unsure if she wanted to hit him or kiss him to remove it. "Evidently," he replied. "But I have danced with you before, Ennaly."

"Yes, but that was…" She remembered their dance in the Frostbacks. Everything had been easier then. She hadn't yet attempted to kiss him, and he'd still been making wicked remarks to her. Most of all, she wasn't Inquisitor yet. "Times were easier then."

"We can agree on that."

They shared another charged look. "Next time you visit my dreams, say something weird and unexpected, like teapot, so I know it's you."

That amused Solas. "Teapot? It will be easier to just read my aura. A demon cannot mimic that, while they might figure out a password."

"Well, trickster," she concluded, walking to the water's edge. "Next time, bring me somewhere exciting. After you've done your thinking, of course. I'll be waiting."

She faced towards the water, fully realizing that Solas had his eyes on her back. Not caring, she lifted her shift over her head and tossed it aside, revealing her naked backside. He had appreciated it with his hands, might as well allow him to appreciate it with his eyes. With a wicked sense of pleasure, she shook her hair. She knew it would appear golden in the early sunlight. And with her hair flowing to the side, the sun would outline the curves of her waist. He had appreciated those, too.

"Who is the desire demon now, Ennaly?" she heard Solas behind her.

She smiled, even though he couldn't see it. "You saw what I was going to do, Solas. If you did not want to see, you could have averted your eyes."

Without looking back, she stepped into the water and fully submerged herself.

She regretted her cheek at entering in the water without much forethought. She didn't take her pack, a blanket or anything to the waterside, meaning she had to get out and walk back naked. She really did need to learn how to Fade-step like Solas, so she could easily hop around without being seen.

To her dread, Bull and Dorian returned. Bull started to pack away their encampment, while she swam to a different shore, hoping to give herself some privacy in the reeds.

Dorian's whistle awoke her from her reverie. He stood ready with a blanket for her to wrap in, having grabbed her pack.

"Dorian, you're the best," Ennaly stated as she stepped out of the water.

"I know I am," Dorian replied, sitting down and making himself comfortable. "I just wanted to check in on you."

"I'm fine, thanks Dorian," she replied.

"Are you really?" he asked, scrutinising her. "You can tell me if you're not. I'm ready to duel Solas for your honour if he hurt you."

Ennaly grinned, glad to have Dorian around. "Might be amusing to see, but not necessary."

"Good. Because I would win, of course," he continued. "And you know, we don't really need any more Elven blood on Tevinter hands, do we?"

She was glad that finally, he could joke about the subject instead of trying to apologise for whatever his people had ever done to hers. Ennaly stared over at the camp, at the other side of the pond, to Solas and Bull packing up. What would they be talking about?

Digging clean clothing from her pack, she put her shift and breeches on and started to wrap her breasts with a length of linen for support, a meditative action she'd performed hundreds of times by now.

"You know, there are easier solutions for that," Dorian commented, glancing at her sideways.

"I tried your Human fashion. It was terrible. I could hardly bend enough to reach my toes."

"That was Southern fashion. If only I could bring you to a true Tevinter boutique." Dorian sighed.

"Yes, I'm sure they'd be dying to serve an Elf," Ennaly replied scornfully, now pulling a purple linen tunic over her head before she reached for her decorated belt. "And I don't need your weird contraptions, thanks, I like my own figure well enough."

"You aren't the only Elf to admire it," Dorian said with a grin. "I was holding guard, you know, yesterday evening. I nearly toppled over when you two both awoke at the same time and stomped off in the distance like some weird Elven ritual. I know how you look at each other, from time to time, mostly when you think nobody is watching. And when you both returned from gathering food yesterday, you were suddenly wearing a flower in your hair. Now tell me that wasn't given by our other Elven mage."

She flushed. "It might have. But it was a completely different context. You've given me flowers before too, Dorian."

"Solas just doesn't seem the type to casually hand over flowers. Whatever you think, that flower meant something. And so, I didn't feel like I had to interfere."

Ennaly sighed. Well, that explained the situation. "It was just a one-off thing, really. Let's just call it a heat of the moment affair."

"Really? Do you think one heat of the moment affair won't be followed by another? All that tension needs a way out somewhere. I mean, the scratches on his back, oof..."

Just a bit embarrassed, Ennaly couldn't suppress a grin. "He certainly knew what he was doing, I need to give him that."

"Really? I wouldn't have thought."

Both of them looked the subject of their gossip, who was attaching his bedroll to his horse's saddle, then doing the same for Ennaly. Clearly Dorian hadn't seen Solas near that damned torch in the Frostbacks in a field of diamonds, or he would have swallowed his words.

She took her dragon skin coat as her final article of clothing. Starting to braid her hair, she was reminded of something. "You've been with mages, have you not?" she asked Dorian.

"Well, yes, I have," he replied, not sure what was coming.

"Did anyone… ever use any magic in… you know, the act?"

Dorian raised his eyebrows. "Every trained mage knows that magic and emotions generally don't mix well, unless you really know what you're doing. Leaves you more open for corruption, you know. There have been stories, one moment, you're entangled with another person, and the next… Well, you can imagine, I'm sure. You need immense control over your magic for anything like that, and well… It's just not worth the risk, is it?" He squinted his eyes. "Why? Did anything happen?"

"No," she lied, pinning her braid with a plain stick. "Just curious. Let's get back."

But his answer did make her think. Immense control over your magic. Well, Solas demonstrated that he did. Was he not afraid of the risks? Did he have such confidence in his abilities, and if so, what did he do to gain that certainty? His power really did run deeper than she thought before.