Fen'Harel and the Tree
The following morning, they were on the roads back to Skyhold again. The weather was good and Ennaly was in a good mood with their recent victory in mind. After what she had seen last night, she was dying to interrogate Dorian, but she hadn't wanted to confront him during their very public breakfast.
"So..." she started as she moved her horse next to his, a large smile on her face. "Did my eyes betray me, or did a certain horned figure follow you to your chambers last night?"
He groaned in answer. "When the peace was declared at the ball, we both had a few too many glasses of punch. One thing led to another, and well..."
Ennaly grinned broadly. "I'm happy for you. Will this be a recurring thing?"
They both stared at the large figure, a bit ahead of them, on the largest horse the Inquisition owned. "I don't know," Dorian said with a desperate sigh. "I don't know what he wants. I don't know what I want."
"Well, you know how it is with heat of moment things," she said with a knowing smile. "One will be followed by others."
"And then you both stroll out of a palace like you own the place?" Dorian offered.
Ennaly smiled, just a little abashed. "At least we made an impression on the court."
"Ennaly, that wasn't just an impression. They'll be wearing purple for the entire summer season, mark my words."
The evening of the following day, they arrived back at Skyhold. In their absence, the troops had been preparing themselves for the march to Adamant, for their departure the morning after next. Ennaly came to learn that Cullen and Josephine discussed their march with the Empress and Grand Duke. They allowed the troops, but could not offer any assistance, as they would need time to reorganize their own forces and deal with the aftermath of the civil war.
This left them all with one day of rest. Solas took the time to start an outline of the next mural in Skyhold's rotunda. Ennaly had taken over his normal desk, engrossed in a history book. Glad to no longer have to study nobility, she thought she might as well continue with other subjects that she considered far more interesting.
Solas' was just working on the outline of Ennaly, poised gracefully but pointing at the Duchess, when a sudden voice pulled both out of their concentration.
"You're both happier," the voice said.
They both spun around to see Cole sitting on Solas' empty scaffold, glancing down at both. Neither of them had seen or heard him arrive.
Recovering from the startle, Ennaly looked up with a smile. "Is that so surprising?" she said. "Isn't love supposed to make you happy?"
Cole cocked his head. "Love leads to laughter, longing, loyal, a lucky life. Most times." With a blink of the eye, he appeared on the floor, staring at Ennaly. "You are hard to hear, your Anchor hides, hallowed, holding back my help. I could always hear you calling, but hushed. You feel calmer now, content. Both of you."
It was just slightly unsettling to hear Cole talk about her that way, but Ennaly knew it came from a place of compassion. "You sense that right, Cole," she agreed. "I suppose my Anchor must feel different to beings from the Fade. Do you think that demons sense that too?"
Cole stared at her with his piercing gaze. "Yes. I suppose they must. If I –" His eyes widened in alarm, but Solas' calm voice soothed him.
"You are not a demon, Cole. You are here to help."
"Yes," he simply replied.
"You have helped us, we haven't forgotten," Ennaly added. "Do you know anything about the Anchor, Cole? Can you sense... anything that we might not?"
Cole stared at her, turned to Solas, and back to Ennaly again, unsure who he needed to address. "Nothing that is not already known to you."
Ennaly sighed, disappointed. "Oh well. I could have hoped." Looking at Cole, her fondness for him grew. His conversations were always a little odd, with half of it being communicated non-verbally and intelligible for all but the intended listener, but there was something comforting about his presence. "Say Cole, did you ever want to get out this castle, come with us on the roads?"
Cole stared at her, uncertain. "I am not sure," he mused. "I'd like to help. I can help here."
"There are opportunities aplenty to assist on the roads," Solas added. "We will be travelling alongside the army, after all."
That made Cole smile. "Yes. I think I'd like to come."
Ennaly closed her book with a smile of her own. "Let's see if we can get you some better gear."
They managed to get Cole equipped with some nice new armour he seemed to like, and two beautiful daggers, shining with magic, one enchanted with fire, the other with frost. Ennaly's white coat received some functional and decorative upgrades with pauldrons and bracers, adorned with the Inquisition's eye symbol.
It was quite a happening, the next day, when the army set out for their march to Adamant. Cullen, as the Commander, on his white horse, took the lead, with Ennaly, on her amber mare, next to him, at least for the initial stretch of their journey. It was a good day, the weather getting warmer and sunnier as the spring months crept towards summer.
Yet riding next to Cullen proved a little awkward. He was friendly as always when addressed, perhaps even a little more polite or formal than usual, yet he did not start any conversation.
"I am sorry," Ennaly said, feeling a little stupid immediately after the words escaped her lips.
"What for?" Cullen asked, turning to her.
She was unsure whether she wanted to sigh or curse. He really wasn't helping her, but they were required to see a lot of each other in the coming weeks, especially since neither Leliana nor Josephine joined them. The sooner they could get this out of the way, the better. "At the palace balcony. I did not intend to be..." She paused, searching for non-accusatory word to use. "…seen."
Cullen chuckled, but it was a little forced. "We knocked, but well... You were occupied."
It was Ennaly's time to flush.
Cullen laughed softly now, and it seemed genuine. "You did make quite the exit. I hope... that you are happy."
"I am," Ennaly replied and a smile spread on her face almost subconsciously.
Cullen smiled back at her. "I am glad to hear. We could use some happiness, especially in these trying times." Sighing, he averted his eyes to on the road ahead.
Ennaly kept her gaze on him. He was a handsome man. They'd seen how the Orlesian nobility reacted to him. It was hard to miss the giggling whispers around Skyhold too, of those discussing their Commander's good looks. But it was challenging to open up when you are in a position with responsibilities, when you have personal struggles that demand your attention. "I wish you happiness, too."
He chuckled and turned back to her, amused now. "There might be time for that after Adamant."
Ennaly beamed back at him, glad that the awkwardness between them was resolved. Perhaps the march to Adamant wouldn't be quite so bad.
But it was on the third day that she came to realise just how wrong that assumption was. Even after this short time, their journey already felt like a drag. For one, moving was quite a bit slower with a large group as opposed to her usual small party. And Ennaly felt that everywhere she went, she had she wear a metaphorical mask, always being a voice of inspiration and determination to bolster their troops.
Their encampments at night were rather large. They could sleep at an inn on first night, but that courtesy only extended to those of higher rank in the Inquisition, leaving their soldiers to camp in the surroundings fields. It felt strange to Ennaly, wrong to be treated so differently. The soldiers were putting their lives on the line just as much, perhaps even more, than those sleeping under a roof. One of the comforts were falling asleep in Solas' arms, those precious moments of respite where she didn't have to pretend to be the Inquisitor, and where she could just be herself.
The mornings starting with a short debrief between Ennaly and Cullen to check if everything was going well and as planned. On that morning of the third day, they met a traveller and exchanged news. The man spoke about rifts he had encountered on his journey and Ennaly noted them on their map.
Together with Cullen, she decided it would be best to follow up on that. Silently, she welcomed a reason to make a detour from the main force. She and her companions could close the rifts, and since they'd travelled faster in a small group anyway, would catch up with the main force a few days later.
The others seemed to appreciate the chance as well. Cole joined the party, and the seven of them closed the first rift successfully and enjoyed a blissful quiet night away from the main force.
Ennaly was engrossed in one of the history books she had taken along, using Solas' leg as a pillow while he sat in meditation, when Varric's voice pulled her from her chapter. "Hunting, you were saying? Uh-hm."
She peered over the edge her book to see Bull and Dorian returning from between the trees. Dorian's hair was very much tousled and his coat was fastened in the wrong way.
"Yes," Dorian answered, a little perturbed. "We were hunting."
Varric grinned widely. "Yet even after an hour, you didn't manage to catch anything. That's just bad sport."
"I'd say he was quite a good sport, actually," Bull provided.
Dorian groaned and turned to look up at him. "There is no discrete bone in you, is there?"
Varric made a gesture with his head towards Solas and Ennaly. "Sparkler, you don't need to be an Elven spy like Briala to figure out what is going on, like with those two. Have you seen yourself?"
Dorian looked down and realised his coat was fastened wrongly. "You said I looked fine," he accused Bull.
"You do look fine," he replied suggestively.
Defeated, Dorian turned to Ennaly, who was smiling largely. "Well, we can't do what our Elven mages do... whatever it is you do when you sleep, so we have to make do in other ways."
"In the Fade, they –" Cole started, but Ennaly shot upright.
"No, no, nobody has to hear that," she rushed, her ears turning red. The last thing she wanted was anyone else knowing what she and Solas did in the privacy of their dreams. It wasn't like they were intimate every single dream, and neither did they share their dreams every night. Sometimes they didn't do anything more than just strolling around or sitting somewhere enjoying a beautiful vista.
Even Solas' eyes shot open upon Cole's words, and his ears turned a gentle pink. The others couldn't help a snicker at their reaction.
"Creepy. Spicy, but creepy," Bull said.
Ennaly wasn't sure what Cole knew, since she thought it unlikely that he could watch their dreams like a theatre play, but perhaps he could sense the emotions.
"But it makes you happy," Cole continued, confused. "Shouldn't happiness be shared?"
"Some happiness is best kept private, Kid," Varric said. "I suggest describing a fireplace."
Cassandra made a sound that was almost a snort, but she managed to turn it into a semi-passable cough.
"There was a fire, but the fire was green," Cole replied. And there had been in the last place they visited. They had been in a small pavilion lit by Veilfire overlooking beautiful, lush mountains surrounding a large, elegant building in the centre of a mountain lake that Solas claimed was a sanctuary of sorts in the ancient times. They'd just sat their together in each other's arms, watching the sunrise.
"Fire of any colour works, Kid. Let's keep it at that, unless you want to see what shades of red our Elves can get."
"I don't think they want me to," Cole mused.
"You've got that right," Ennaly replied. Solas broke his statuesque posture to pull her back against him. "Dorian and Bull are more interesting anyway," she added, leaning back on Solas' leg again. "We're just two Elves, while they've got the whole forbidden love thing going on."
"Two worlds tearing them apart, Tevinter and Qunari, with only love to keep them together," Varric narrated.
"Sounds a lot better than Ennalath and Solith, doesn't it?" Ennaly said with a grin. "Sure you don't want to switch stories?"
"I always have room for future ideas," Varric replied. "And Ennalath and Solith have enough interesting adventures to write about."
Solas nudged Ennaly to sit up again, sighed and rose. "If you remain so intent on writing this Elven story, Master Tethras, I will not let you butcher my language," he started, sitting down next to Varric. "Ennalath is too similar in sound to emma lath, and that would never be used as a given name. At least try and do this justice."
"What does it mean then?" Varric asked.
"My love," Ennaly offered.
"We know he is your love, but what does that phrase mean?"
Solas answered after a short chuckle. "What she said. Emma lath… My love."
"Huh," Varric said bemused. "Not the worst name for a romantic lead, but sure, offer me alternatives. You don't happen to know a spell that can replace all words with something else, do you?"
Ennaly smiled as Varric took out his quill to pen down Solas' suggestions. It was good to see how much more comfortable they all were around each other compared to how they started out. Bull sat down in the new-empty space beside her while Dorian rummaged in his pack for a mirror before he joined them, trying to fix his hair.
"I'm happy for you both," she said to the pair.
Dorian sighed again, dramatically. There was still one lock of hair falling in front of this forehead, but he had already stashed his mirror away. "Yes. I'm happy, he's happy, everybody's happy."
Bull looked at Dorian with a loving expression and pulled him against him, just as Solas had just pulled Ennaly against him. "Aww, you're happy?" Bull teased.
Dorian groaned as Cassandra and Ennaly laughed softly. Ennaly wanted to tease Cassandra and Varric as final pair of their group, but knowing how strained that relationship was, she considered it best to hold her tongue. The two of them had managed to spend the entire day without verbally duelling, and Ennaly didn't want to reinstate it.
"Boss, you still owe us a story," Bull started. "The one Briala mentioned, about a tree."
Right. Ennaly had nearly forgotten about it, but she thought this was a good enough moment to tell it. She made herself comfortable against, lamenting the loss of Solas' leg. "Fen'Harel and the tree. I can share it, I suppose. My mother used to tell this when I was small, as a lesson of justice and warning not to fall for Fen'Harel trickery. She was full of stories about our Gods."
It was bittersweet to remember the lost days of happy childhood. Her mother had always kept her hands busy, no matter what she was doing. When it was bedtime, they'd enter their aravel or lit a campfire and her mother would take some small handiwork, like some knitting, sewing, or embroidery, and told her bedtime stories to teach morals.
She crossed her legs and sat up straight, having the attention of everybody around the campfire. She wasn't the best storyteller, but she could try and do it justice. "Long ago in the ancient times of Arlathan, at a cold fall evening, Fen'Harel, the Dread Wolf, had hunted a halla. It angered Andruil, the Goddess of the hunt, because he had not received her blessing for the kill. To make him pay for his wrongful deed, she hunted him, caught him, and tied him to a tree.
That night, Anaris, one of our evil Gods, found them both. He had been hunting Fen'Harel as well for crimes against his kind. As both Andruil and Anaris laid claim on Fen'Harel, they declared a duel.
Andruil fought with bravery against Anaris, her arrows a rain of gold. Fen'Harel, as he was tied to the tree, did not silently await a victor to claim him, but influenced the fight. He called out to Anaris to make him aware of a weakness in Andruil's armour just above the hip. Using this advantage, Anaris stabbed Andruil in the side, causing her to fall.
Gleeful, Anaris wanted to claim Fen'Harel, but he stated that Anaris only rose to victory in due to his help, and so, Fen'Harel ought to be granted freedom. Anaris was so affronted by his audacity that he turned and shouted insults at Fen'Harel, and so he did not see Andruil, injured but alive, rise behind him and attack with her great bow.
Anaris fell with a golden arrow in his back, badly injured, and Andruil required rest as well. While both Gods slumbered to heal their wounds, Fen'Harel chewed through the ropes that tied him to the tree and escaped."
Finished with her story, Ennaly blinked. Retelling it has felt strange, and she didn't think she had done a very good job at evoking the right symbolism. Perhaps she hadn't emphasised certain parts like her mother did, so the story felt... wrong, somehow. Like the teaching her mother assigned to the story no longer fit.
Bull laughed, throwing her out of her thoughts. "And Briala considered herself like Fen'Harel, and saw Celene and Gaspard as those Anaris and Andruil? I like her audacity."
"Clever guy, that Dread Wolf," Varric noted.
"Seems like the way a Ben-Hassrath outsmarts their opponents," Bull agreed.
Ennaly wanted to catch Solas' gaze for any assistance, but he wasn't looking at her. Instead, he and Cole shared a look, but didn't speak. Starting to feel desperate, she sighed and turned to Bull, grasping at straws. "That's not the moral of the story. Perhaps I didn't tell it right, it has been a long time since I heard it last. Anaris only won initially due to Fen'Harel's interference, yet Andruil managed to rise and fire a final arrow out of her own doing. It's about pride, Fen'Harel's trickery, evasion of justice and –"
"The huntress declared that he would have to serve in her bed for a year and a day to pay her back. The wolf did not want to do that," Cole interrupted.
Ennaly gawked at Cole. Where did he come up with that knowledge? "That's in some versions," she agreed, yet that had never been part of what her mother used to tell her.
"In some versions?" Dorian repeated. "Isn't this Andruil supposed to be one of your good Gods? I mean, I would want to take revenge on someone wanting to use me as a bed slave for a year, wouldn't you?"
"Besides, Andruil only managed to fire her arrow because Anaris was distracted, bickering with Fen'Harel," Bull added.
"You're still missing the moral," Ennaly argued, but felt like it was slipping from her grasp, too. Fen'Harel had always been a trickster God, and they had to protect themselves from him, lest they would be tricked as well. The story proved and warned for his cleverness, and how he managed to escape the justice for his unsanctioned hunt. What was it that she omitted from the story that turned it into the lesson her mother shaped it into?
"Moral? Shit, if that was supposed to be justice, I'd evade it too," Varric said.
"Fen'Harel found himself in a bad situation and got himself out," Dorian continued. "Wouldn't we all do that?"
Confused, Ennaly felt like the foundations of her world started to tremble. What her friends said made sense, but how could it have sounded so different all of a sudden? Wanting comfort, her eyes fell on Solas. He was staring into the campfire with a stoic look on his face, avoiding her eye. "Solas? Do you have anything to say about this that offers perspective?"
He turned to her, his gaze oddly impassive. "It is a story," he replied. "And like most stories, one can likely find both truth and lies woven within the words."
That wasn't really an answer. "But what are the lies and what are the truths?" Ennaly asked in a plea. It was only answered by a mournful smile and silence.
Bull laughed. "Are you already doubting your own story now, Boss?"
Dorian offered a more sympathetic smile. "Ennaly, don't worry. There's a moment in all of our lives where we start to doubt the stories we're being told, isn't there? It's just a story, don't let it eat at you."
Ennaly opened her mouth to say something, then closed it again, confused. When she heard Briala mention the story, she was just thinking about the plotting and the scheming and had kind of forgotten about her mother's lessons. It was only now that Bull wanted to hear it that, that she remembered the lesson at all.
She had compared herself to Fen'Harel. Deep down, she had admired the clever ways in which he freed himself. She had joked about his influence on her, as she laid below Solas. But that was exactly what was happening, wasn't it? If her clan would hear, they would certainly chastise her. Perhaps the week she spent clutched to Fen'Harel's statue as a child had rubbed off on her after all, like her Keeper feared.
Rebel God. Wasn't that the translation she read in the book and discussed with Solas? Or was it just wistful thinking on her end, so she had to be less afraid if the Anchor turned out to originate from him? But if she desperately wanted that to be true, then what did that mean for the Dalish themselves, and their belief? Was this just one of those examples where the Dalish were wrong? And had it truly been Fen'Harel to nudge her awake as she slept in the caverns below Haven, during that dream?
Dorian gave her shoulder a compassionate nudge as they returned to their own activities, leaving Ennaly to her contemplations. She was oblivious to the noise and movement around her until a shadow crossed in front of her vision.
She looked up to find Cole sitting next to her. "I can feel your troubles," he stated. "You don't need to fear. You care about justice, and it was out of justice that he acted. He cared, a lot. And he is sorry."
Ennaly gazed into his icy blue eyes that stared back without blinking. "I don't understand what you mean," she said. For all the help Cole wanted to offer, he was also very good at confusing.
He kept her gaze, mouth slightly open. "You don't know. I don't think I can tell."
"Is this still about the story?"
He started to rock back and forth. "I make it worse, don't I? I just wanted to help. You are hard to understand."
Feeling compassion for him, Ennaly smiled and placed a hand on his. "It's alright. It's because the Anchor blinds you, isn't it? But don't apologise Cole, I know your intentions are good."
"His intentions were good, too. There is hurt in his heart," he said, placing one hand over his own heart and another reaching out to her, but not quite touching. Puzzled, Ennaly stared at his solemn expression. "He wants to right the wrong."
Instead of clarifying his words, Ennaly understood him even less. "Who is he here?" she inquired. Were they still talking about Fen'Harel? What did Cole know? What wrong to right?
Cole smiled and gently touched two fingers against her chest, over her heart. There was something comforting in his smile, and almost in a reflex, she smiled back.
That seemed to be all he needed and he rose without answering the question. She followed him with her eyes until her gaze crossed Solas, who was still sitting next to Varric. He shot her an appraising, yet worried look. Cole had touched her heart. Vhenan?
A memory swam to the foreground of her mind, of Solas clutching her in a forest at night-time. I will make it right, I promise, he had whispered.
With the soft sound of wood clattering against wood, Ennaly noticed she was subconsciously fidgeting with the beads of her bracelet, carved by her mother to depict the nine Gods of her pantheon. She looked down at her wrist. Her fingers had stopped on the one that depicted a wolf head. Traitor, trickster, rebel? She wasn't sure anymore what to believe.