Fit to Rule
"A show of goodwill, Inquisitor," Lady Morrigan said and moved her hand to draw magic from the Fade. She had been the apostate Leliana had mentioned, and would be in service of the Inquisition. "You have an hour to make an exit as grand as your entrance before the spell fades. I shall see you at Skyhold."
The Human mage turned around as Ennaly's dress shimmered with the remnants of her glamour spell. The rips and stains were no longer visible and it seemed as clean and pristine as if it was freshly laundered and repaired. Cullen's black cloak still hung over her shoulders, providing some warmth against the cooling night air.
Adequate. That was how Gaspard had declared the evening's end when she forced him and the Empress to see peace. It was only possible because of blackmail. But well, if Orlais wasn't able to solve its problems on its own, she would force its own methods upon it. She didn't disillusion herself that would be a lasting peace, but it would be the best chance at uniting against Corypheus.
And whatever would happen after that? Ennaly found she didn't care too much. Celene and Gaspard both were unworthy of the throne. She didn't think any of them was truly fit to rule Orlais, and neither seemed to really care about its Elves.
Briala had been there as well. Ennaly had looked at the Elven woman, held blackmail against her, too, and decided not to use it. She knew the woman had forged the letters and killed the Empress' and Grand Duke's negotiators. Like Fen'Harel, she had outsmarted Andruil and Anaris by directing their attention to each other instead of her.
And Ennaly had rewarded it by enforcing an official title upon her. Marquise of the Dales. While Gaspard and Celene left to announce their peace to the court, both Elves remained behind.
"You have accomplished what I deemed impossible, Inquisitor," Briala said afterwards. "Peace between Celene and Gaspard. I know you held information over me, too, yet you decided to bestow me a title instead. You are better at plotting and scheming than I anticipated."
"Coming from you, I take that as a compliment."
"The Elves of Orlais have a future now, for the first time in centuries. My people will find a way to repay you, I promise you."
"They are my people too," Ennaly responded.
Briala smiled. "I believe your Inquisition has Grey Wardens to pursue, and I have much to arrange around here. But if we are both ready, and trust remains between us? I pay my debts, Inquisitor. I might have old Elven secrets to share."
Ennaly didn't know what kind of old Elven secrets Briala meant, yet she also knew that asking for clarification would be futile. It must be the weapon that could change the tide of war, if it really existed. Given time, she was sure it would be revealed to her.
And now she could finally breathe. The evening was over, the mission successful. Ennaly took off her mask and gazed out over the surrounding fog-cloaked hills, the cool night air blissful on her skin. Relieved, she closed her eyes. So much had happened this one evening, it felt like it had lasted a week.
A ripple in the air around her told her of someone approaching her silently. Smiling, she knew who it was before she opened her eyes.
Solas walked closer, his mask in his hand. "I am not surprised to find out you here. How do you feel?" he asked.
She sighed and briefly leaned against him. "Like Fen'Harel, with all this plotting and scheming."
He laughed amusedly and placed an arm on her back. "How rather blasphemous of you."
"Briala's story is stuck in my head," she said, leaning back and lifting the Anchor between them. "Who knows. If this is his, he might be proud of my actions here."
The hint of a grin spread on Solas' face as he observed her, his composure relaxed. "I am proud of you."
She smiled and leaned back against the bannister. Lights scattered through the windows behind Solas. Even now, the music was still playing. The sheer whirlwind of events left her feeling drunk. "I was standing there, three of the most influential people in Orlais in front of me, yet I held the power. I carried blackmail on all, their dirty little secrets. And I could lay things out the way I wanted to. The Empress owed us her life."
Solas leaned his hand on either side of her on the balustrade, trapping her. "So, you are saying I have the most powerful woman in Orlais in front of me?"
She looked up to him and smiled coyly. "Does that entertain you?" Trapped between his arms, she rested her hands on his chest and exhaled slowly. "I just hope I made the right decision. Besides, the moment of power faded when I sent Celene and Gaspard back inside."
"I think you can consider this night a success. You played their Game, by their rules, and you were victorious." Pride blazed in his eyes as he cupped her cheek and kissed her. He was unguarded, as casual as she'd ever seen him.
"At least we prevented as much bloodshed as possible. And, well... Briala has a noble title now. That is historical. Aren't you happy with what this means for our people?"
"Our people?" He wanted to pull her closer. "Oh, you mean Elves? I do not consider us to have much in common with them."
Ennaly frowned and resisted his pull. "What is that supposed to mean?" she said indignantly, pushing against Solas' chest. "You are an Elf. Do you think just because we're mages, or dressed fancily, we are suddenly above them?"
An expression of shock appeared on his face. "No, that is not what I meant," he tried soothingly.
"Then what did you mean?" Ennaly asked, a little sharper than she had intended. "You can be a bit of ass about Elves, sometimes. Just because we're dressed in fancy clothing, doesn't mean we aren't still Elves. And remember… Under this make-up, I still have my Vallaslin. I'm still Dalish, no matter how I look right now."
Gently, Solas reached out to her and gave in, letting him cup her face and run his thumb over her cheekbones, where the Vallaslin was hidden. "I am sorry," he said, and his apology seemed heartfelt. "For what it is worth, I consider Briala to be an admirable woman. She reminds me of... Well, it does not matter. Some things are beyond us now." He pulled his hand back and looked out over the dark gardens, lost in thought.
It was rather strange that the day before, he considered the city Elves her people, him excluded, and now she was suddenly part of whatever he considered himself? Just because of her appearance?
Ennaly wanted to be angry at him, blame him for not feeling more connection, but she found that she couldn't. He had lived a different life from any Elf she knew. He had confessed that he was an escaped slave, of sorts, and she didn't know all details. Perhaps his fellow Elves had treated him terribly, for all she knew. She imagined him, an escaped slave, denied by Dalish Elves to join them, left to wander the world alone. It hurt her to think of him that way.
It was no wonder he reacted strongly to Dorian after Briala confronted him. She couldn't fully blame Dorian for the way he was raised and the beliefs that were bestowed upon him from birth. She herself had been disillusioned about the Dalish. Who knew what other falsities she still believed in?
Glancing up, she saw a sorrowful expression on Solas' face. She wanted to cheer him up, and remembered something that might just work. "Briala says she has old Elven secrets to share with me, once we are done with the Grey Wardens and order has been restored. Do you have any idea what that could be?"
Solas turned to meet her gaze, his face blank, yet somehow darkly expectant. "Old Elven secrets? Weapons to change the tide of war? It is certainly... intriguing..."
"Might be worth keeping her trust. Not that I see any reason to break it. And I did just ensure her a title."
"Plotting and scheming," Solas mused. Absentmindedly, he looked to the side, through the window at the ballroom. A moment later he turned back to her, a smile on his face once more. Stepping away from the balustrade, he bowed and held out a hand. "Come, before the band stops playing, dance with me."
Ennaly stared at him. A few hours ago, there was nothing she wanted more. But now… "Never thought I'd say it, but I've had enough of dancing. I'd rather stay here a little longer. Unless you'd rather rush back to the ballroom?"
Solas smiled and stepped closer to her. "I can sacrifice the pleasure of the Orlesian ball so I can keep the prettiest and best-dressed Elf company." He let his gaze fall over her, and a small frown formed on his brow. "Though, I don't think I have ever seen you wearing black before."
She looked down at the ground with a grin. "I've never seen you wearing boots before."
"There is a first time for everything."
"You wearing boots?"
"You seeing me wearing boots."
She looked up to his eyes. "It makes you taller. You are already so tall."
"Or it is you that is small. The most powerful woman of Orlais for a moment, yet I can easily pick you up." He grinned down at her, picked her up with some protest from her side, lifted her and sat her down on the balustrade to the side, so they weren't visible from the window. Sitting on the edge, her eyes were at the same level as his.
"Yeah, but to be fair, most people can."
He stood between her legs, the skirts wide enough to allow it. One hand at her back, one hand at her ear, he kissed her gently.
"Though if most people try and hold you like this, you will just blast them away," he teased softly.
But the words did not arrive well. Ennaly tensed up, her breath stuck in her throat. They reminded her of Anarel, whom she had blasted away, then at the Marquis she danced with, their offers, then at that night in the barn again and the sound of rain on the roof.
"Ennaly?" Solas asked concerned.
She averted her face and stared at a point in the distance, unable to find the words or breath to express herself.
"Vhenan, are you okay?" Solas repeated.
It took a moment for her voice to return to her as Solas fretted over her, holding her shoulders and cupping her cheeks.
"Something a Marquis said brought back some unpleasant old memories," she muttered, eyes still averted. "I told you about it once, months ago. A stupid Human who withheld medicine. I wished Humans didn't consider Elves as something..." She sighed but didn't finish her words.
Something to collect, something to conquer, something to insult, something to enslave.
Solas gently wrapped his arms around her and placed her head on his shoulder, protective and caring. "There is much injustice in this world. I am sorry."
Ennaly sniffled. "It is not your fault. I just thought I was stronger than this, that it didn't affect me anymore. It was years ago."
Solas leaned back. "No, Ennaly, do not say that. Strength has nothing to do with it."
"Well, I agreed to it. If it's bothering me, I could just have said no."
Solas placed a hand on her cheek, gently turning her face so she looked at him. "No, please do not blame yourself. It was that vile man's fault, not yours. He had the power to help out, but instead of granting it, he just took advantage of you."
"I let him. It is still my fault for agreeing."
"You saved that woman's life. People who take advantage of others because of a position of power are some of the worst. He is to blame, because it was in his power to give."
"But -"
"No. You were driven into a corner. He was at fault for pushing you there. You are not to blame for any of that. What do you think Cole has to say to you?"
The band inside had switched to a fast-paced, happy-sounding tune. Cole, by his very nature, would show her compassion. He would likely show her to be compassionate to herself, and repeat Solas' words, but wrangled and with alliteration. Something seemed to open up in her mind, like the end of a dark knotted mess of rope had become loose. "Perhaps you're right. Maybe it wasn't my fault."
Solas gazed at her tenderly and caressed her cheek. "What was it you said those months ago? May the Dread Wolf take him?"
Ennaly returned the gaze, but hers was sincere rather than smiling. "No. I mean, I did say that, but perhaps I'll take back those words. I've been thinking on justice and revenge, and the fine line between them. That wish is just revenge, is it not? Retaliation. Justice aims to right wrongs."
A warm finger trailed hidden lines on her cheeks where the marks of the Goddess of Justice were etched.
"I was thinking how I wanted this night to end. I could have let Florianne kill Celene and get revenge for the Elves who were killed here in the alienage. I thought about it. But would her death have changed anything, with Gaspard stepping in? Wouldn't it have led to more violence? Instead, I helped increase Briala's power. Celene and Gaspard will still be going for each other throats, but not in a full-blown war, and that will still take attention away from Briala. That was my justice. I don't know if it will pay out, but that was my reasoning. And about that medicine?"
She forced herself to see a new perspective, and could only hope that by saying it, it would give her the beginning of closure. "I saved my clan member's life. That man is outside of my reach, and the best I can do is not let his memory affect me. He doesn't deserve my thoughts."
Solas smiled faintly and ran his thumb over her cheek a final time. "And your mind doubts about your strength? You are a remarkably strong... person."
There was an odd pause between the penultimate and final word of his phrase, and Ennaly couldn't suppress a small laugh. For all his confidence, Solas could sometimes fluster over his words and she considered it cute. "Person. Sure. What a word to use."
"I just mean -"
"I know. Thank you." She smiled a genuine smile and looked up to the starry sky. The same starry sky she saw from the forests where her clan camped. She recognised some of the constellations, remembered how she'd lain on her back with her mother or her friends, connecting the stars in different patterns. Affectionately, she looked back at Solas and held out her arms. "Come here, strange man. Hold me?"
He wrapped his arms around her as she rested her head on his shoulder.
They remained like that for a little bit, close together in each other's arms, Ennaly still sitting on the balustrade, her feet dangling down on either side of Solas, the happy tunes from the ball pleasant in their ears. After the chaos of the night, she felt at peace.
"I love you," she whispered, her head still on his shoulder.
She didn't see the dark sadness passing over Solas' features as he pressed her closer. "I love you too, vhenan," he whispered in return.
She leaned back to kiss him. He responded, and a sweet, tender kiss. It wasn't long before it turned passionate. Eagerly, Solas pushed the fabric of the cape over her shoulder, but it was too heavy and kept falling back.
"I don't think black is my colour," Ennaly murmured as she untied the ties, leaving the cape to rest on her left shoulder while the right was freed. She had removed the decorative pauldrons when she removed her mask, so her entire shoulder and neck were bare but for the small golden chain that held up the dress. Solas used to opportunity to kiss her shoulder, and started to trail up to her ear.
Relieved that their mission was over, Ennaly gave herself over to the feeling of lips on her skin and the hand that trailed her bare back, that she didn't notice the door opening. She was also oblivious to the footsteps approaching her or the woman calling out her title.
But she did hear it when the woman repeated her words with increased amusement, and when she finally realised that someone wanted her attention, she flashed open her eyes. To her horror, she saw two figures near the door of the balcony. In front was Josephine with an indulgent smile, but behind her stood Cullen, and even behind the mask, the expression of shock was clear on his face.
Ennaly still sat on the balcony's edge, legs wide but still covered by her skirt, glamoured to appear whole. Between her legs and with his back turned to the others, was Solas, still unaware of their visitors. His face was buried in the crook of her neck, one hand at her waist, the other at her neck, pulling her against him. She could look over his shoulders at the others, her hands gripped at the black velvet of Solas' shirt behind his back. One of her shoulders was still covered by... Oh, Gods.
"Solas," she whispered hurriedly, but he seemed too captivated by her body to notice it.
"Solas!" she repeated, more insistent this time. He parted and finally, it dawned on him that they weren't alone. With a quick movement, he stood next to her, his hand still lingering on the small of her back.
"My apologies," Josephine said, her smile still wide. Cullen seemed to be very interested in the window all of a sudden, and looked anywhere but at the pair. She had been sitting here, being kissed by Solas, while wrapped in Cullen's cloak. If he somehow still harboured feelings for her, this must have felt like the ultimate pain.
"We are readying our retreat," Josephine continued. "We wanted to fetch you, but I see you are... occupied. Perhaps we should give you a moment. There is..." She pointed to a spot on her shoulder.
Ennaly looked down to find a smudge of pink lipstick there. The only way it could have gotten there was via Solas' lips, but as she shot a quick glance at him, there was no trace of lipstick anywhere on his face.
"We'll give you a minute, alright?" Josephine added. "Commander?"
As Cullen turned to follow Josephine, his eyes behind his mask met Ennaly's, and she could see hurt in there. Damn, that meant that he had. Well, perhaps he shouldn't be surprised that after everything that happened this evening, she was seeking comfort with an Elf.
She held her breath until they were out of earshot. She cursed.
"Are you alright, Ennaly?" Solas asked.
"Before we were interrupted, yes," she said, rubbing at the spot on her shoulder and quickly grabbed the ties of the cloak before it would slip down her shoulder and fall off the balcony. She stared at the door that the two advisors just left through. "You know how I once…" She paused. Perhaps she shouldn't talk about this. It was rather awkward to discuss these sorts of things with a… lover?
Solas chuckled. "Is this about Cullen? I know you once had your eye on him, I did not forget. I would almost say that his eye has not left you."
Ennaly buried her face in her hands. "I feel bad," she muttered. "He already had a bad evening."
"It cannot have been worse than yours," he replied and gently took her hands away from her face to start rubbing his thumb next to her lip to remove smudged lipstick.
She started to talk, interrupting Solas' attempt to fix her make-up. "It was just… I wouldn't have been very happy to see you kissing someone else, while wearing my cloak." She held up the material in one hand for emphasis.
"You have a compassionate spirit," he said affectionately. "Do extend that to yourself, too."
She supposed she should be happy that the idea of Cullen did not spark jealousy in him. But after all, she had offered her heart multiple times to Solas before he accepted it, removing the need to doubt her interest.
Deciding it was best to forget about it, she took a deep breath. They had way more important things to worry about, like their exit out of this lion's den.
She scowled as Solas rubbed at the corner of her lips, removing the lipstick. "I know you used magic for yourself, can't you do that for me too?"
"I could have," Solas said with a casual smile. "But I much preferred this, my love, and I am already done." He took a step back, her hand in his, as he gazed into her eyes. "You really are beautiful."
She wanted to be angry, but a flush passed over her face at those words. "Save it for later, would you?" she muttered half-heartedly.
Solas raised his hand as if in self-defence, but a smile spread on his lips. Shaking her hands, she fetched their masks and her pauldrons. As they left the balcony, she regarded the cloak in her hand. If she had been Cullen, she wouldn't want it back.
Josephine and Cullen were waiting for them, Josephine chatting happily and Cullen looking expressionless like he was carved from stone. It was then that Ennaly realised Cullen was probably there to escort her back through the palace on his arm, as she had entered on Gaspard. Wasn't there a thing about Orlesians liking symbolism, and something about the Inquisition's army protecting their Inquisitor?
And it seemed that Solas arrived at a similar conclusion. She saw the two men locking eyes for just a second. Perhaps Solas got jealous, after all, because he turned back to her and leaned in close.
"You have already given the Elves here a lot of hope tonight. Do you want to give them something more?" he whispered in her ear.
Surprised, she looked up to him. Of course she wanted that. They had achieved their goal. The court seemed to end up adoring the Inquisition's actions. Orlais would know peace, for now. Florianne was detained, Corypheus thwarted in his plans. So why should she keep on dancing to the noble's tunes?
He leaned back when he saw the look on her face and bowed down to offer his arm. "Well then, allow me, ma vhenan." The others could hear him now, but they didn't speak Elven. His intonation was probably not lost on them, however.
She regarded his arm. Oh, he was devious, offering this to her now. It would be akin to sweeping her off to the dancefloor without a care that they were Elves. And after everything tonight, she felt a little devious, too. Josephine must have seen her grin and quickly stepped forward to grab the back cape out of Ennaly's hand, but didn't protest. Considering that good enough, Ennaly took Solas' arm.
She didn't have to pretend her smile. She had been the most powerful woman here, even for a little moment. Orlais' civil war had ended, and they had made it possible. And after all that, the court would just have to deal with it. The figurehead of the Inquisition, together with another Elven mage, dressed in finery, were walking together through the halls of the Winter Palace in Halamshiral, Solas' posture upright and tall, guiding Ennaly at his side like a king would lead his queen, as no Elves had walked in this place in hundreds of years.
Even the masked faces that otherwise had regarded them with disgust, couldn't help a certain awe. But she didn't care much for the nobles. She saw the look of reverence in the Elven servants' eyes. To them, they represented the glory of the Elvhen, dressed in such distinct non-Human fashion, just having helped establish peace in their nation, granting a title to one of their own, in this place, that had seen so much injustice for them. Surely this heralded change on the horizon.
Solas smiled at Ennaly as they descended the stairs to the garden. Her skirts fanned out over the steps behind her, revealing the full embroidered design on the white layer. The lamplight highlighted the thickness of the embroidery thread by casting slim shadows, emphasising the scene. The two hallas stood triumphantly in their forest scape, comfortable in their surroundings, like Ennaly and Briala, the Inquisitor and the new Marquise of the Dales, two Elves standing victorious.
Near the fountain, Leliana was waiting. Leliana, who once sacrificed herself in a twisted future that they had now prevented. It was clear from her smile that she approved of the night's events.
Ennaly turned to look at Solas' eyes behind the mask and smiled back. He knew very well what he was doing here, guiding her through the palace.
Pride he was, indeed.