Varric's Surprise
It took them a few days to get back to Skyhold. You should forget about me in this way, Ennaly, kept haunting Ennaly's mind, but it was the best advice she could follow. She and Solas quickly fell back into their old communication from the start of their journey to the Dales. They didn't acknowledge anything had happened, and when Dorian and Bull realised that was the way they were going to do it, they stopped mentioning it, too.
It was less hard somehow. Perhaps Bull was right, and having relieved some sexual tension had done her well. That wasn't how she usually saw her herself, since sexual acts had rarely been about mere enjoyment, and had at times been terrible and painful. But what Solas had done in the Dales... It had been more like a spiritual connection, and she'd never known anything like it.
She didn't know if he would ever make up his mind, but she vowed to herself that she wouldn't wait around for it. If she expected nothing, she couldn't be disappointed.
Being back in Skyhold would do them all good. They would no longer be required to make nightly camps with just the four of them for entertainment. Strangely, Ennaly welcomed the duties she knew would be awaiting her. Enjoyable or not, they would be a perfect distraction, and would keep her out of sight of a certain someone.
It was midday when they brought their horses to the stables. Dennet mentioned that Varric had just returned as well, and brought a friend with him. Solas, Dorian, Bull and Ennaly each went their own way to put their packs away and enjoy the fact they could spend time off a horse.
In her chambers, Ennaly washed away the grime of travel, dressed in a velvet tunic and went back down again to the war room. There, she debriefed her advisors on what happened in the Dales with Fairbanks. She mentioned the Dalish clan, but only in the context that they might have to be careful around them. Leliana pressed her to tell more, so her scouts would know what to expect. Pink-faced, Ennaly told them the very bare minimum, that she and the Keeper had an unpleasant history and she might have humiliated him before he left. The look in Leliana's eyes told her she read more into her story, but she didn't press on.
They continued planning and outlining the coming days, which would include lessons and dinners with some influential people. All Ennaly understood, was that little spoons and little forks would play a more important role in the next few days that she cared for.
"You should go find Varric," Leliana said when they were finished. "He's dying to introduce you to his friend. I have met him before and he's very charming. I can give you one warning, don't let Cassandra know. She's going to kill him."
Her curiosity piqued, Ennaly went to look for Varric. She missed the Dwarf. He had been her very first friend among the group of strangers and had the ability to make her feel comfortable and laugh, regardless of the circumstances.
He enveloped her in a cheerful hug the moment he saw her. Chatting happily, they made their way to the battlements. All she could see at first was a tall, dark-haired Human man looking out over the mountains. He was dressed in black and red, his dark hair reaching his shoulders and partly tied together. He turned around when Varric cleared his throat, revealing a handsome, bearded face wearing a large grin.
"Inquisitor, meet Hawke, the Champion of Kirkwall," Varric said, but Ennaly had already recognised him purely on his description.
"Milady Inquisitor, it is a pleasure!" the tall man in front of her exclaimed.
"The pleasure is all mine," Ennaly replied, a bit starstruck. She'd read Varric's tale, and here he was, the man who had done all those things. "It isn't every day that you meet the hero of a tale."
Hawke bowed. "Varric never quite managed to describe my nose well, did he?" Grinning, he extended a hand, expectant for her to place hers in it. Having understood this Human behaviour thanks to the etiquette lessons, Ennaly gave her hand. Instead of pressing a kiss on it as she had expected, Hawke flipped it around to stare at her palm.
Disappointed, he glanced up. "Varric, you've been telling stories again, there is no Divine light here."
Ennaly grinned and placed her other hand in Hawke's outstretched palm. "Different hand." Feeling a flare for the dramatic, she channelled power through it to make it flare up.
"So how does this work, really?" he asked interested, bringing her hand closer to his face. "It's like there's a hole punched right through you to the Fade."
Ennaly raised her eyebrows. "That's one way of putting it, yes."
The green light radiating on Hawke's face clashed with his entire countenance. "So, can you do tricks with it? Concentrate your mana to empower your spells?"
"Sadly no," Ennaly said with a sigh. "It's like it's disconnected from my spell mana like a fork in the road. I can either choose to channel my regular magic, or use the mark. And it's one-directional as far as I've noticed. I can use it to hurt demons though, and it can close Fade rifts, so it's something."
"Well, it definitely comes in handy," Hawke concluded. Varric groaned at the joke, but Hawke just laughed and flipped Ennaly's hand over. In a quick move, he pressed a kiss against it, his beard tickling her skin. "It isn't every day you meet someone truly Divine." Suddenly, he sounded suave. A charmer, that was for sure.
"It isn't every day two of your apostate friends meet," Varric remarked. "I should have warned Curly to increase the guards, with the amount of bad luck the two of you have, something weird is bound to happen."
Hawke grinned and gave a playful shove against Varric's shoulder. "Not everything weird is bad."
Varric shook his head. "With you two, it might be weird and catastrophic, so let's not take risks here."
"Well, my saving days are over," Hawke said as he turned to Ennaly. "If anything bad happens, it'll be up to you, Inquisitor, to save the day."
"I think you saved a lot of days already," Ennaly replied. "Didn't you once save a city from a horde of rampaging Qunari?"
"Didn't you physically step out of the Fade?"
Ennaly grinned. "It wasn't so impressive as that might sound, really."
"I've been telling Varric for ages that stories always make the reality sound much more fantastic than it was."
"I do my best," Varric replied as he looked between Hawke and Ennaly with a small frown. "Shit, this is weird. It's like two realities have merged together. Well, besides your bad luck and tendency to save people, you have something else in common, which is the entire reason we are here now."
"Our astonishingly good looks?" Hawke suggested.
Varric sighed, but it was more out of content than exasperation. "I can't say I've missed your humbleness, Hawke. What I mean, is that both of you have faced Corypheus. And I was there too, I guess."
Hawke groaned dejectedly. "Already down to business, Varric, really? I was just enjoying this verbal duet with our lovely Inquisitor. I miss my Elf."
Varric petted his shoulder. "Fenris is fine, Hawke. Probably being angry at someone, somewhere, or brooding. He can look after himself."
"I want him to be angry at me," Hawke said with a whine. "But sure, offer me an ale and I'll recount everything I know. A Human, an Elf and a Dwarf walk into a bar..."
"And the Human hits their head, you stole that one from me," Varric said, as they headed to the Herald's Rest to share their information.
Two hours later, all stories were told. They made plans to go to Crestwood to meet Hawke's Warden friend Strout. He would hopefully know more about Corypheus of the nature of his plans, so it was a worthwhile pursuit.
It wasn't long before Varric brought out the playing cards. Ennaly had just lost another round – Hawke's explanations just confused her rather than helping – when she heard a familiar voice behind her.
"Inquisitor? I heard you had returned and..."
Ennaly turned around. Cassandra stood at the end of their booth, staring at Hawke with a shocked expression, then at Varric, then at Hawke again.
"Ah yes," Ennaly said, but she might as well be talking into the void. "I have returned."
"You are the Champion of Kirkwall," Cassandra uttered with disbelief.
"Who, me?" Hawke said, looking left to right in mock-surprise. "More like unfortunate mage that is good at being in unfortunate places at unfortunate times."
"And performing very fortunate feats!" Varric praised, but he glanced at Cassandra with a hint of apprehension. "Hawke, meet Cassandra. Cassandra, meet Hawke."
"You are Varric's surprise," Cassandra said, still not over her shock.
Hawke laughed suavely, got to his feet, and bowed. "I don't think I need another title. Just call me Hawke. Everyone does. Pleasure, Milady Cassandra." He took her hand and kissed it, turning his voice low. "Varric told me a lot about you."
Immediately, Cassandra turned pink. After Hawke released it, she kept staring at her hand, gathering her composure. It took her a few seconds, and her expression changed to anger as she turned to Varric.
Ennaly remembered Leliana's words and thought it best to prevent whatever explosion would occur otherwise. "We're planning steps against Corypheus," she said quickly, trying to divert the conversation in a new direction. "Or well, we were, an hour ago. Now I'm being outplayed in cards. We can summarize our plans if you join us?"
Cassandra seemed very conflicted on what she ought to do, but at the insistence of all, and a charming word from Hawke, she joined their table.
"Ennaly, if you have a moment?" Solas asked as she ascended the stairs. Ennaly spent a lot of her free time in the library with Dorian, pouring over books. Dorian said that wouldn't join them on their next journey. He claimed that he needed the use of a real bed for a while, and in her absence, he could continue their research. He was mostly focussing on Corypheus while Ennaly felt a personal pull to learn more about Elves and her Gods. It was quite interesting what Human literature had to say about it. Perhaps somehow, she would be able to able to figure out which God this power came from.
Ennaly was just on her way to another lesson when she passed through the rotunda and looked up when Solas called her name. Her eye fell on the fresco he had drawn of her. His hands had drawn the curves of her waist on the wall. She remembered his fingers trailing the same lines on her body, nothing but a thin piece of fabric between them. Ennaly swallowed the memory away. She vowed she wouldn't be thinking about it.
"Yes," she said with a smile.
"I still owe you something," Solas said as he grabbed a small parcel from his pocket. It was narrow and long, the length of his hand, wrapped in some scrap muslin. He handed it over to her.
Curious, she unfolded the fabric to find a metal hairpin. It was made from summer stone with two slim prongs to stick in her hair. The top end that stuck out above her bun, branched out in elegant curves around flowers and buds made from nevarrite and dawnstone. The purple and soft gold complimented her own features well. Surprised, she looked up.
"I told you we could get you a new one," Solas said. "I assumed you might appreciate something rather more decorative than the wooden stick you have been using."
"It's absolutely beautiful," Ennaly said in awe as she let her fingers glide over the metal.
"You seemed interested in the ancient Elves. This is the type of ornament they would have worn, though made of different materials. I sketched it from what I have seen in my journeys, and Harritt crafted it." His tone was very conversational, like the gesture was nothing, but to Ennaly, it was like holding a piece of history.
"It is strange," she started. "You know how we Dalish try to preserve pieces of the past. But something like this… We can carve stones and wood, but we cannot forge metals. We could only get that via trade. You remember what Anarel did, just for some iron tools..." She sighed, not wanting to give in to melancholy. "I think this is the most beautiful thing I ever held. It's almost too beautiful to wear."
Timidly, she looked up to Solas. He'd put a lot of thought into this gift for her. This wasn't just a hairpin, or at least, not for her. He had made her a personalised piece of history.
Gods, she wanted was to reach out and kiss him, but she didn't. This was just a gift. She'd gotten a hairpin before. This was just a new one, and there was nothing romantic about it. If it was, he'd have let her know.
"Wear it anyway," he replied with a gentle smile. "You are the best person in this building to wear it. I certainly could not."
She flashed a grin. "It would be a waste to let it gather dust in a box somewhere. Thank you, Solas, I really do appreciate it."
"You are welcome," he said.
Ennaly wanted to wear it immediately, and pressed a hand against her bun to keep it in place, while removing the wooding pin with the other. She tossed it on the large desk and wanted to easily pin the new one in place. The problem was that she had never had a metal hairpin before, let alone one with two prongs, and her hair untwisted, cascading over her shoulders.
Determined to get it right, she twisted her hair anew and took extra care with pinning the pin in place. The prongs were slightly curved to follow the shape of her head, and with everything freshly fashioned, it felt comfortable and secure.
"I love it," she stated, even though she couldn't see the final effect.
Solas smiled at her, when both jumped up from the sound of the outside door clattering open. In came Cullen, stumbling to close the door, dressed in a casual outfit rather than his set of armour. Dishevelled, he stepped into the room, surprised to see two pairs of shocked eyes staring back.
"Oh. Hello Inquisitor, Solas," he said, stopping in his tracks. "It is a windy evening outside." He pulled a hand through his hair, rearranging some stray curls. "Are you ready?" he asked, looking at Ennaly.
"Good evening Commander," Ennaly greeted. "Yes, I am. Dancing lessons," she clarified to Solas.
He chuckled. "Someone wants to give you dancing lessons? You dance better than most nobles at court."
Ennaly shrugged. "Well, not those Orlesian dances. You need to learn a lot of intricate steps. Apparently, Elven dances won't impress the court. Too uncivilized, clearly."
Solas stared at her with disbelieving surprise, clearly mulling over those words.
"I don't see us needing it, but Josephine insists," Cullen said, making it clear he wasn't here for his own pleasure. "You can dance," he added to Solas in a rather stoic voice.
"I can," he replied casually, and Ennaly remembered dancing with him, both on the snowy flanks of the Frostbacks, and in the Fade. It didn't help Ennaly's resolve, and she pushed away memories of hot lips on her neck.
"You often practise your combat skills, Commander," Solas continued to Cullen. "Think of it that way. A dance is just like a fight."
A new voice made them all turn around as Leliana just entered the room after descending from the rookery. "Oh, I always say it opposite," she said. "I think a fight is like a dance."
"I agree," Ennaly replied, glad for another person to distract herself. "Are you joining? You already know all the steps to all Orlesian dances."
Leliana poised herself gracefully in the opening position of a minuet. "I have been looking forward to this moment all day," she said happily. "I can help teach."
"I still don't see why this is necessary," Cullen said sullenly.
Leliana considered him, her head titled to the side. "You might know about battle tactics, Commander, but not much of the Game. The Orlesians adore symbolism. The leader of the Inquisition's army together with the Inquisitor on the dancefloor? They would love it, but also judge us. Which will be useful, because if you can dance well and they love you, it will become easier to gather information. And information is influence, and influence is power."
Cullen groaned disheartened, clearly less than thrilled by that idea. Ennaly hated herself for wishing that dancing with Cullen might make Solas jealous. He knew that she once had an eye on him, but even if he was the type to give in to jealousy, she respected Cullen enough to not make him an accessory of that. He deserved better, and she couldn't live with herself if she purposefully tricked him like that.
But after all she'd been through, some dancing was certainly the least of her worries. "Well, shall we then?" she said, glancing towards the door to the great hall.
"You have a new hairpin," Leliana stated observantly.
Surprised, Ennaly looked back and touched her hair. "Oh. Yes, Solas just gave it to me. It's beautiful, isn't it? It's Elven."
With a sparkle in her eye, Lelaian looked at Solas, who was still standing behind his table. "It's gorgeous," she replied gleefully. "It matches your eyes, Ennaly."
Ennaly released a nervous laugh, wishing less attention would be drawn towards Solas. Was that why the Orlesian nobility wore masks, to hide their blush? "Yeah. The previous one... broke. It's nice to have a new one. Thanks again, Solas."
"Not a problem," he replied. "Do enjoy yourselves."
"We shall. Good evening, Solas," Leliana said, placing a hand on Cullen's and Ennaly's shoulders and guiding them towards the door. Ennaly was the only one to look over her shoulder as they exited the rotunda. Solas sat on his chair again, his face turned downwards to his books, but his eyes pointed forward, directly at her.
She shot him a weak smile, but averted her eyes before she saw his response, and followed her advisors to the side room that was reserved for their lessons. And overall, it was a rather pleasant evening spent practising her steps.
They made good use of the short time that Ennaly was still present in Skyhold before going on the road again, meaning lessons almost every evening. And the more time spent in the side room, guided by the music of a violinist and on the directions of a rather spectacularly moustached teacher, it seemed that even Cullen was able to enjoy it a little bit. It started to be a lot less awkward, at least.
Before she would get on the road again, Josephine pressed a bundle of books in Ennaly's hands with subjects about the Orlesian nobility. One book taught the heraldry and origins of Orlesians houses and the significance of their mask, of etiquette during a ball, of signals made with fans, the proper way to address a lord... At least Ennaly would have enough to do in their evenings at camp.
Ennaly spent as much free time as she could with Dorian, before being separated from him. She took the time to write long letters to her mother, Keeper and friends at clan Lavellan. The memory of clan Nomaris was still bittersweet to her, as it made her miss her own clan all the more. It would do her spirits good to hear news of them.
Bull also declined for the next journey, instead wanting to join a mission with his Chargers. That meant that the journey to Crestwood would be Cassandra, Varric, Solas and Ennaly, joined of course by Hawke. If not for him, it was almost like the starting days when the four of them were all there was, travelling to Redcliffe and Val Royeaux. The one comforting thought was that with both Bull and Dorian absent, there was nobody besides Solas and Ennaly themselves who knew what happened between them. It was easier to act naturally around him without having to endure any teasing.
It took Cassandra a short while to get over her hostility towards Varric, and only the silent admiration for Hawke could make her see peace. Hawke had an easy-going personality and casual charm that was able to flatter anyone they met. It was helpful for gathering information, but also for getting discounts whenever they needed to make a trade. He was quick to joke, but it didn't take long for Ennaly to realise that he carried a deep pain within him, tucked away under the layers of humour. It was understandable, knowing some of what he lived through from Varric's tale.
He and Varric together were the life of their evenings. Without them, Ennaly, Solas, and Cassandra would have spent a lot of time in relative silence, like those early days. With Hawke in their midst, he always declared time for fun. He'd get out the cards, and if they could get one, a bottle of drink. They'd play games and share stories. Varric and Hawke were both good, Ennaly and Cassandra were rather bad, and Solas, when he joined, usually won.
One night they decided to make camp near a broken watchtower that looked several hundred years old. Reflecting back on a fight they had won earlier that day, Hawke, Solas and Ennaly ended up in a discussion about magic and theory. They had just closed a large rift, and enjoyed the way they all had their different focus for offensive spells, with Hawke preferring fire, Solas ice and Ennaly lightning. It was useful, for it meant one of them could always overcome a demon's resistance. They revelled in the fact that none of them had ever been a circle mage or benefitted from "official" teachings, yet all turned out with perfect control over their magic.
Peering out from above her book, Cassandra shot them a clear look of apprehension.
Feeling it best to not test her mood this soon the fragile peace between Cassandra and Varric was established, Ennaly grabbed her books from her pack and loudly complained that this upcoming ball was way too much work.
"I really wish I didn't have to know that house Chalons has two lions as a sigil and that the background colour signifies whatever branch they come from," she sighed dramatically. "I thought I was interested in history until I had to know all this."
"I don't envy you," Hawke said. "But if you need to prepare for that ball, let's dance! I might have grown up in small town Ferelden, but my mother was actually Kirkwall nobility. She considered it important that we still got to learn the appropriate manners and skills." He changed this voice to sound high-pitched and articulate. "I know some fancy dances, at least in theory."
Beaming broadly, he took Ennaly's hand and led her in a dance. Or… tried to, at least. It soon became clear that he was so rusty that even the most basic steps made him trip over a tuff of grass, and nearly yanked Ennaly to the ground before he could steady them.
"Fenris always called me ungraceful, can you believe it?" Hawke said with a mock-pout.
Varric laughed. "You know, Hawke, he's right. Even I have more grace, and that's saying something."
"Well, I don't have those things you Elves have," Hawke said, first looking at Ennaly and then nodding his head at where Solas sat, quietly observing them.
"It's called practice," she stated amusedly.
"Nah, I think it is innate to you." Hawke extended his hands to Ennaly again, this time both. "Come, grab my hands."
"What do want to do?" Ennaly asked with hesitation.
Hawke flashed a charming grin. "Have fun, of course. Be more impulsive, Inquisitor!"
"I'm going to regret this," she replied, as she grabbed Hawke's hands. He took a firm grasp on her wrist and started to spin around at rapid speed, laughing loudly.
"Don't let go!" Ennaly yelled as the world around her spun.
Hawke kept a tight grip on her hands. "I won't if you won't! I don't want to fall!"
"I'm not crazy enough to let us," Ennaly cried.
They came to a stop with a laugh and dropped to the ground, watching the world around them keep spinning while they were stationary, not knowing what was up and what was down.
"I don't think being impulsive is my thing, I see three watchtowers instead of one," Ennaly said, trying to calm down her heartbeat. "I do think all three of those towers must have a more interesting history than whatever is in my books. I wonder how old they are."
With the world almost coming to a halt, she sat up straight saw Solas regarding her from his quiet place at the edge of the camp. She shot him a weak smile that he returned, before he averted his eyes to the tower behind her.
"And oh well, I might not be graceful, but I do have Wicked Grace." Hawke grinned, still flat on the ground. He grunted, rather ungracefully indeed, as he raised himself to a sitting position. "Up for a game of cards, anyone?"
That night, when Ennaly opened her eyes in her dreams, she stood at the base of the same tower they made their camp next to, but now, it stood fully upright. She stared at it in awe. It was taller than she had expected by several meters, with a pointed wooden roof.
Encouraged by a tingling sensation, she turned around. Solas stood nearby, casually leaning against a tree, observing her wonder.
"You were wondering about its history," he said with a smile. "So I thought to show you."
Enchanted, she gazed at him. He looked real again, like he did in that dream in Haven. But was this him, or was it something else, simply wearing his skin? "How do I know you're not a demon out to trick me?" she asked.
"If you reach out with your will, you can sense that it is me. I assume that by now, you are familiar with the touch of my magic. And besides…" He looked up at the skies, encouraging her to do the same. Above them was a cloud shaped like a teapot.
Ennaly shook her head and grinned. She took a step closer, but not too close, and reached out with her magic. The source she encountered was familiar to her. Besides all the times it had healed it, it had once teased her everywhere on her skin, slowly building, caressing, and...
Wanting to forget about it, she took a deep, hurried breath. "Okay, so it is you," she concluded.
Solas smiled in a silent response, and curious now that she knew it was safe, she turned around with renewed interest. Slowly, she let her fingers run through the tall grass and placed her hand against the tree trunk in front of her. It was strange. In Haven, everything had felt real, but she had memories of the real place, had been there. She thought that perhaps her memories had helped make that dream feel so real.
But the tree she was touching right now felt as real as anything in that previous dream, as real as it would have done in the waking world. Yet, it was long since gone in the present time, truly nothing more than a memory.
She looked around at Solas, excited about what this meant. "Can you just do this wherever?" she asked in wonder.
"If I have enough focus left," Solas replied, like it was no big deal.
"This is really amazing, Solas," she said as she took a few steps closer to the tower. Suddenly, she halted. "Can we really just explore this place, everywhere? We haven't seen what is inside. Do we need to be on guard?"
"There is nothing here that can harm us," Solas explained. "These are mere memories, imprinted in the fabric of the Fade by the spirits that have strayed here."
Ennaly held out her hand for a small beetle to land on. It remained for a second, its small legs tickling like a real one. She watched it fly away and disappear between the trees, before turning to Solas again. "Can you practise your magic in here? Is that how you are so strong? That teapot-shaped cloud cannot be a memory."
He chuckled. "No, you cannot truly practise magic here in a similar way you can in the waking world. But you can practise your will, and that can shape little parts of this place. You made Dorian's halla come to life in Haven."
Ennaly tried to focus on the tree next to her and willed the leaves to turn orange and red as in autumn, but she was too excited, too distracted by this place, and couldn't manage. Disappointed, she sighed. "But in Haven, I just thought I had a dream with a demon, so it was easy. Now I know this is more than just a normal dream and it's just difficult. I couldn't do this to a real tree in the waking world either."
"The fact that you managed it at all in Haven says a lot about your abilities. I have no doubt that in time, you could manifest your will, too. But realise that with every change you make, this place will be less and less a true memory. And that means you are twisting reality, so do not try and gain wisdom that way."
And with a wave of his hands, the entire meadow around them turned red, as far as the eye could see, as poppy flowers erupted between the grass.
"Show-off," Ennaly muttered as she stepped closer, suddenly excited again as she eyed the large structure in front of her. "Can we really just explore the tower?"
Solas smirked at her. Casually, he walked to the door of the tower, opened it, and gestured for Ennaly to enter. "Why don't you find out?"
It was six nights later that Solas visited Ennaly again in a dream, after she, once again, spectacularly lost at Wicked Grace. When she opened her eyes in her dreams, she found herself in a tavern very much resembling the Herald's Rest, Solas casually sitting at a table, cards in front of him.
"This cannot continue," he said, not even looking up as he took the deck and shuffled the cards. "I am going to teach you how to win." As she sat down, he glanced up at her to show a mischievous smile.
"I don't think it's really a skill to learn, like chess, is it?" Ennaly said, taking the cards offered to her. "I can't help it that I'm just very expressive. You said so yourself, I am like an open book."
Solas leaned back to observe her. "You do not have to hide your expressions to win. I can simply show you how to turn it to your advantage. It all depends on the cards you hold." He urged her to lay her cards open on the table. "The tricks I will show you will not lead to a continuous success, but the victory will certainly be yours, the first time you apply them. And I would so like to see the look on Varric's and Hawke's faces when they realise their loss by your doing."
"So this is purely out of self-interest, is it?" Ennaly grinned.
"Humour me," Solas replied, as he dealt a hand for himself.
The next evening when they were playing Wicked Grace, Solas abstained from joining. Ennaly, bolstered by his teachings, won that night's game.
"Well, shit, you've actually done it," Varric said, surprised.
Hawke narrowed his eyes. "Are you sure she's not a cheat, Varric?"
"Are you accusing our Inquisitor?" Varric replied, almost scandalous. "Our Inquisitor is many things, but she is no cheat. Is she?" he added, narrowing his eyes at Ennaly.
"You dare accuse me, dear Dwarf?" she replied with a smile, pretending to be hurt by his words. "I didn't cheat. I simply must have learned it in a dream."
Her eyes found Solas' and they shared a smirk. The others would never know just how much truth there was in those words.