Demon
Focus on your surroundings, her late Keeper always said.
But how can you possibly focus on your surroundings when you are in the Fade, physically, not in a waking dream but a waking nightmare, and you are surrounded by fear and demons?
Ennaly had never fought in anything like the battle for Adamant. But luckily, she wasn't Cullen, and she wasn't tasked with commanding or strategizing in any way. She and her friends, joined by Hawke and Stroud, fought their own battle, skirting through the chaos, clearing the battlements to help the troops, and fighting Grey Wardens.
Who would've thought she'd ever be fighting Grey Wardens? She used to love their stories, mostly of how the city Elf Garahel turned heroic Warden and died while killing the Archdemon in the fourth blight. She'd always considered them something like romantic heroes, but the Warden-turned-demons they fought were hardly romantic at all. The best they could do was spare the Wardens who showed remorse for their actions, but for each they spared, they had to kill three more.
And then the dragon had arrived and everything was chaos.
In hot pursuit, they followed the Warden Commander, and somewhere along the way, they got separated from Dorian and Bull. In hindsight, that might have been fortunate.
The two lovers, at least, were spared from being trapped here.
Was this Ennaly's fault? It was because of her that they now had to find a way to escape this place, it was because of her that they were taunted by Nightmare and fears, it was because of her ability that she opened a rift instead of falling to their death.
But it was because of her that they were alive. And hopefully, they could stay that way.
At least they finally learned what happened at the Temple of Sacred Ashes, where all of this began. There was no divine power, and to Cassandra's shock no Andraste blessing her, but no Mythal either. It was all just an accident, just a reflex when the orb rolled in her direction and she clumsily caught it with her left hand, her right one holding her staff.
But knowledge was power, and now she understood a little more about what happened. It wasn't of much use as they were taunted by the nightmare demon.
"A First without a clan. A Dalish without pride. How about an Inquisitor without an Inquisition? They will all abandon you, one at a time, and you have nothing left to return to."
"Empty words don't frighten me," Ennaly called back. The words hardly instilled any fear in her now. The last few days had been grief-filled with enough that they left her empty, and with all the support her friends offered, it was unlikely they would just leave her.
This was not the first demon to whisper in her ear. The trick, her late Keeper had explained while teaching her to overcome demons, is to understand the emotion they are using against you. The emotion you feel might be real, but the threat is not, at least not until you let it become so.
"Or what about an Inquisition without their Inquisitor? Silly little Dalish girl pledged herself to the Dread Wolf. Careful! He's already breathing down your neck." There was a cruel, high-pitched laugh, before the voice turned grim. "He'll take everything you value."
As they navigated the strange environments, trying to ignore the illusory sensations of spiders crawling into her clothing, Ennaly found the words repeatedly ringing in her mind. It was the one guilt that Cole had not addressed, but Despair made her mother say it. I haven't raised you like this, pledging yourself to the Dread Wolf. Cole had been weird during her story about Fen'Harel and the tree, too. Perhaps a God was too powerful, too complex, for him to understand?
She shook the thought out of her mind. They had to focus, but despite her knowledge that the demon's fear was just a tool, she fell into despair. It felt harder to see the spiders for the illusions they were, and panic started to take seed in her core.
"Dirth ma, harellan. Ma banal enasalin. Mar solas ena mar din."
The words the demon spoke to Solas were unexpected. Why did it speak Elven to him but not to her? And there was that word again, harellan. Traitor, rebel?
She didn't have the time to ponder the meanings, as they fought Fear. And slowly, the descent into despair felt not so distant. Ennaly's attacks grew panicked, her magic acting erratically in this place. They would die here, trapped because of her, while they could have simply fallen to their death.
A quick end, instead of this lasting horror.
Fear lifted Ennaly from the ground and slammed her against a rocky pillar. All air was knocked from her lungs and her vision blurred. Vaguely, she watched Solas ahead being antagonised by Despair, too engaged to help her, but his eyes stared at her, large and hollow, and full of fear.
As Ennaly awaited the final blow that would mean her death, she had no breath to utter a farewell. And all of a sudden, Hawke and Varric appeared at her side, killing their foe.
"It's not your time yet, Doe," Varric said, blood running down from a gash at his forehead, as Hawke pulled her to her feet.
"You are much too important to die," the man said, a wide grin on his face, but his eyes betrayed distress. Humour, to mask fear.
A green crystalline explosion erupted centred at Solas, and for a moment Ennaly wondered if it came from him, or was directed at him. Relieved, she realised it had been him, and he obliterated Despair. Just one step and he was next to her, wrapping his arms tightly around her, as Cole, Stroud and Cassandra killed Fear.
But when they eyed the nightmare demon, fifty heartbeats later, blocking the rift that was their escape, they knew that was a fight they could not win.
So they needed a distraction. In death, sacrifice, were the last words they heard from Stroud, as the others entered the Fade rift and emerged back at Adamant.
It was odd how sunny it still was in the Western Approach, a harsh contrast to the shaded environment in the Fade. Ennaly wished she could have simply lain down to weep, but she couldn't. She had to wear her mask again, and act as Inquisitor.
Stroud had died for them, and now she had to judge what to do with the Wardens? Tired and wounded, she considered her options.
Corypheus was a darkspawn. During the battle, they had not seen him, but his dragon had appeared, and they didn't quite know enough about it. What if it was another Archdemon? Wardens fought darkspawn, they might need them. She could hardly be the person to exile the Wardens when Corypheus might herald a new Blight, causing Orlais to fall into ruins without them.
She allowed them to stay, the harsh stony look in Solas' eyes a surprise.
She wanted nothing more than to retreat back to her tent, but as Inquisitor, she knew she could still help out, inspire the soldiers, help the wounded, and care for the dead.
There were so more many bodies of nameless people. All Ennaly could think about, were the bodies of clan Lavellan. If strangers had taken care of them, laid them to rest, how could she do anything else but help here?
And not all these bodies were nameless. Befriended soldiers mourned their dead companions. Lana, Bernard, Tilly, Oscar.
She didn't know if it made it better or worse, knowing the names of the fallen. Some of the survivors eyed the remaining Wardens with hate, for their friends had perished because of their actions. Or the actions of those in higher rank.
She felt sick to her stomach as she and Solas retreated to their tent, commanded by Cullen as he noticed her fatigue. There would be more time tomorrow to discuss the details of what they had witnessed in the Fade. Cassandra, Varric and Hawke had already retreated, and Cole fluttered between the hurt, offering compassion where he could. Night hadn't even set in yet.
Ennaly noticed the pent-up anger in Solas as they retreated towards their tents, even if he was silent.
"You disagree," she quietly said, wanting to know why he felt this way. Since they returned from the Fade, he had kept his mouth in a straight line, dutifully helping the wounded where he could. "You think I should have exiled the Wardens."
Solas shook his head frustratingly as they trod through the sands, glanced up at her, and sighed defeatedly. "They acted stupidly. Would their actions have ended the Blights? Do you know? Did they? The fools that unleashed the Blight upon this world thought they were unlocking ultimate power."
Ennaly stared at him as she opened the tent flap for them to enter. "Like Corypheus, yes, I know." She was tired, but she'd never seen Solas as irate about anything, except perhaps that time those Humans had summoned and corrupted his friend.
That anger, she understood. This one, she did not, not fully. "Even if I don't agree with their actions, I understand why they did it. It might have been foolish, and I fully condone it, but they were acting with the desire to help."
The army tent was large enough to comfortably stand in. Their only furniture was bedding in a corner, a few chests with supplies, and a large wash bowl. The sun's rays filtered through the sandy-coloured canvas, allowing for enough light.
Solas looked at her sharply as the tent flap closed behind him. "Responsibility is not expertise. Action is not inherently superior to inaction. And the Wardens showed they were gullible to corruption. What if Corypheus manipulates them again?"
Ennaly frowned back. "The remaining Wardens stood up to corruption once, and they showed remorse for everything that happened. They deserve a chance to redeem themselves, don't you think?"
Solas still wore his frown on his face, like he was going to argue, but Ennaly continued quickly before he could interrupt her. "You know why I didn't exile them? What if Corypheus foreshadows a new Blight? We don't really know what his dragon is, if it's another Archdemon. Without Wardens, our world would have succumbed to the Blight ages ago. We need the Wardens."
"Do we truly?"
Ennaly stared at him, as Solas' expression turned stricken. "Yes?" she argued, feeling confused. "If you know more, if you know anything, you should have told me earlier. I make do with the knowledge I have available to me, and from where I'm standing, I cannot be the woman that exiles them and then leaves Orlais to fend for themselves if the next Blight starts. I know I cannot be responsible for the choice that results in the fall of Orlais."
Solas stared at her, mouth a little agape, as the anger slowly disappeared from his face. Dejected, he averted his eyes and leaned with his hands on one of the large chests. "Forgive me... The entire idea is unnerving. I should not project the frustration I feel towards them onto you. I know you must make difficult decisions and I cannot fault your reasoning."
Ennaly wanted to sit down on one of the chests, but winced as her ribs hurt. Solas turned concerned immediately, turning to her. "All these hours, and I have not even healed you. You should have told me."
"Well, you seemed quite displeased with me after my speech," she said, wincing again as Solas began stripping away layers of dirtied belts and tunics.
"I am sorry," Solas said as he undressed her torso. A large bruise was spreading on her left side from the impact of the fear demon. He gently placed his hand on her skin and channelled magic, warming her body and knitting together bruised bone and flesh.
"Thank you," Ennaly said as he was done. "I am sorry, too. I'm just glad we could end this madness before it started." She was so tired, but her brain was still actively processing everything that had happened. "We were in the Fade, physically," she said, her hands pressed against her eyes.
"That is the second time for you," Solas replied, his face still full of emotion, like he was processing everything just like she was.
"And Stroud…"
A slight frown appeared on Solas' brow. "It achieved what he meant it to achieve. He said so himself. A Grey Warden caused it, and a Grey Warden paid the price. His sacrifice will not be forgotten."
"In death, sacrifice. We travelled with him, we played cards with him." Ennaly sniffled. "I don't think I've ever endured anything as harrowing as this entire day. I mean – well, in different ways perhaps." She leaned against Solas' chest, but almost immediately retreated with a disgusted sound. "Gods, we're covered in Fade goo," she said, staring at several stains on Solas' shirt, whose origins were dubious.
Solas looked down and chuckled. "Yes, I declare these clothes forfeit."
"We should lock this stuff airtight in a chest. Who knows what kind of information we can find when studying it. And by we, I mean Dagna. This stuff is smelly."
Solas smiled and rose to his feet. He had seen a few items next to the washbowl and picked up a purple-tinted bar of soap, a tender expression in his eyes. "Do you wish to smell of lavender instead?"
Ennaly awoke with a start from a nightmare. All her friends had left her, one by one, while saying hateful words to her, that they never cared for her. Varric left with Hawke to go to Weisshaupt. Cassandra turned her back on her now that it was clear she was not Andraste's chosen, her advisors turned their back, calling her a fraud. Dorian and Bull left together, claiming they were better off without her, and Solas told her coldly he'd never loved her, and she had been nothing more than a distraction. Even Cole, compassion, left her because he'd been so scared in the Fade, the place where she brought him.
She turned around, caught in the blankets.
It wasn't just her dream. She was all alone. There was no Solas next to her, no warm comforting presence, and her breath caught in her throat. He had left her, just like the dream.
Feeling her panic growing, she closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths. Focus on your surroundings, her late Keeper always said. The wind rippled against the canvas, a soft rhythmic sound. Faint hints of the lavender soap still lingered in the air. The nightmare demon was left behind in the Fade, unable to influence her here.
Solas was probably outside. She grabbed a blanket to throw around her against the cold desert air, scrambled to the tent flap and stuck her head through.
It was night now, and quiet in the little circle of tents, reserved for her friends. Just as she hoped, Solas sat next to the opening, legs crossed, staring up at the starry night sky.
"I'm so glad to see you," she said, her voice catching in her throat.
He turned his head. "I could not sleep." His voice had a raw quality, too.
Ennaly crept outside and sat next to him, her eyes locked on his face, his familiar features, his beautiful jawline, the faint freckles on his nose, the purple flecks in his grey eyes. He hadn't left her, he was here, in front of her, real, living, breathing.
A comfort.
She noticed something in his lap, a string of beads. Solas had taken a new leather cord and was repairing her bracelet. She counted eight large beads, meaning one was missing. Was it still on the forest floor, days of travel back?
But no, it seemed that Solas held something in his right hand between thumb and forefinger, idly rolling it between them.
He noticed her looking and his face fell into a hurt and anguish, as she had rarely seen on him. "Are you scared, vhenan?" he asked, and even if his voice was a whisper, it broke.
Of what? Ennaly wanted to ask, when she saw the bead he was holding. The Dread Wolf. The demon had taunted her with him. "Of Fen'Harel?" she asked quietly, a little surprised by his emotions. His eyes told her yes, even if he remained silent.
Was she scared?
"I don't know," she said truthfully. "If this is about the demon, I know it just tried to make us doubt. But I know a demon's words are wind." She laughed shortly to cut the tension, but Solas remained quiet. "I don't think I have a reason to be any more or less afraid than before, do I? Why? Should I?"
"No," Solas said, shaking his head as he threaded the bead into the cord. "It just pains me to see you scared."
He said it devoid of most emotion, but Ennaly smiled faintly at the implied compassion. "Are you scared? What did the nightmare demon mean by what he said to you? It was strange that it was Elven. He didn't speak Elven to me."
Solas sighed and tied the cord closed, handing the bracelet back to Ennaly, but averting his eyes again. After some time of consideration, she put it on her wrist. It felt comfortable again, her mother's creation.
"I made a mistake, long ago," Solas confessed. "I meant to help, but instead... People died because of my mistake."
Ennaly stared at him and took his hand into her lap. "Intentions are important," she said quietly, not knowing how to console him.
"Only to a certain degree, perhaps," he agreed.
Ennaly squeezed the hand, but she didn't receive a squeeze back. "Are you talking about your time as a... slave?"
"In a sense," he replied, shaking his head. "We have to live with the consequences of our actions. Find peace, or make amends."
"Can you?" she asked quietly. "Make amends, I mean."
"I believed I could. I might still."
Ennaly smiled, if only to encourage him. "Well, that is good. If you want me to do anything, just let me know. Perhaps Dorian..."
She was thinking of Tevinter when she said it, but Solas interrupted her. "Let us focus on the task at hand, first. Corypheus, the orb, and the Breach."
He still did not turn to look at her, not once during their conversation. "Solas? I'm here to help, I am here for you."
When he still did not turn towards her, she placed a hand on his jaw and gently pulled Solas to face her. "I love you," she said, and when he kept staring at her, overrun with emotions, she leaned over to kiss.
But Solas leaned back, avoiding her touch.
"Solas?" she asked, confused.
"I thought I lost you," he said, voice raw and emotional. "In the Fade, during that fight, I thought I lost you."
She smiled. Was that what was bothering him? "I'm still here," she whispered, moving her hand to his neck. "You don't have to be afraid. I'm right next to you."
And finally, Solas' expression softened. When Ennaly leaned in again to kiss, he responded and cupped her cheek, tenderly, as if too tight a grasp would cause her to shatter.
"Ar lath ma," he said as he parted and Ennaly smiled at him.
A sudden voice from outside their limited area of attention startled them both. "That sounded like something surgery-sweet," Dorian said. "Please tell me it means I love you, and not you have something between your teeth."
Dorian, Bull and Cullen approached the Elves, dusty and dirty from the work they'd been doing.
"Dorian," Ennaly muttered as she calmed herself. "You startled me."
"Not what I expected, but I'll take it," he replied. "But... Shouldn't our lovebirds be asleep?"
"We tried that, and failed," she replied, sighing. "You try that, after what happened in the Fade. You don't get an easy night's rest after a confrontation with a nightmare demon."
"Crap," Bull said.
"In hindsight, I don't mind so much that we got separated in the fight," Dorian added.
"Cassandra mentioned you encountered a… figment of the Divine?" Cullen asked.
"Figment… Memory… Spirit…" Ennaly replied. "I'm not quite sure what. But yes, whatever it was... it helped me recover my memories. If anyone still believes me to be chosen by Andraste… It was as Corypheus said. All of this was just an accident." She held up the Anchor.
"The Maker works in mysterious ways," Cullen said, eyeing the mark on her hand. "All I know is that without that accident… Without you… We all wouldn't have survived Haven."
Ennaly smiled softly. If only Cullen knew it was no Maker, but the power of an Elven God he was revering.
"The night sky is a comforting sight," Solas said, looking up. "It will chase the nightmares away."
"I know of better ways to chase nightmares away," Bull said, looking up to the skies too.
"Not the time or place for this, Bull," Dorian chastised.
Cullen gave a nervous cough as Bull scoffed. "What?" he challenged. "Get your minds out of the gutter. I meant hitting things, or getting hit. It's not all about… I mean, it could, of course." He grinned. "You're all too weak to understand." With a grumble, he shook his head and continued on towards his tent.
"Sometimes he likes getting hit with a large stick," Dorian provided. Ennaly raised her eyebrows and Dorian scoffed. "Like a staff, a weapon. It's a Qun thing, he says it helps with... Ennaly, you're the worst." He gave up as she laughed softly and he threw his hands in the air with a desponded sigh, before turning to follow Bull. Cullen couldn't repress a grin and even Solas let out a soft chuckle as they watched him go.
Hawke's sudden but stifled laugh filled the silent air, coming from the tent he shared with Varric. The Dwarf gave a loud but inaudible reply before they laughed together.
"Seems like we're not the only ones with trouble sleeping," Ennaly noted.
Cullen turned to them, a little concerned. "Do try it, though, hard as it might be. The next few days will be busy enough."
They bade each other good night and entered their tent again. But as they lay down on their bedroll, those gnawing thoughts entered Ennaly's mind again, the vision of the nightmare Solas saying those hateful things before he left.
"Can you hold me?" she whispered.
Solas lifted his arm and Ennaly rolled over on her side, and facing each other, he dropped his arm to comfortably rest in the curve of her waist.
Feeling protected, Ennaly closed her eyes. She opened them again as she felt a hand tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Solas gazed at her, his eyes glittering in the darkness, both tender and unguarded.
"The thought of losing you..." He said it quietly, but his voice almost broke.
She reached her own hand to Solas' face to comfort him. "You don't have to think about that when I'm right here, and I plan to stay here," she whispered. "I'm not afraid when you're holding me, Solas."
"Ennaly..." he started, but he didn't get far before she kissed him. He responded with the same eagerness and emotion as her, hand cradling her neck.
She needed this, after all the events of the past two weeks, to temporarily forget about it all, wanting to be close to Solas, as close as she could. There was so much emotion you could share with a kiss, comfort, a wish to protect.
Dying alone was his fear. Abandonment was hers. But if you turned that around, wasn't their wish the same? A desire for connection? The two lost Elves of the Inquisition, both connected but untethered from their past.
Ennaly pressed her entire body against Solas, feeling an inherent need to be close, but she felt she couldn't be as close as she needed to be. Wanting to break their kiss as little as possible, she managed to lift her shift over her head, pressing her breasts against Solas, skin to skin.
It was strange to feel desperation as an emotion while kissing, yet that is how it started out. They needed the small comforts that were left to them, the want for connection so large it almost ached, but the taste of Solas' lips made it all bearable.
As they held each other, the desperation turned to tenderness. It was alright, being here together, the comfort they offered each other, the touch of skin under their hands.
Ennaly hadn't quite noticed the tenderness turning into passion, before Solas ever so slightly brushed his hand over the tip of her breast. Her entire body awoke at the spark it sent through her, soft and non-magical, yet still... She moaned softly without realising she had.
Her reaction seemingly gave Solas all the encouragement he needed and his subsequent touch had something more primal. He teased her breasts and slowly let his hands trail down to trace circles over her inner thighs. Ennaly let her hands glide over her shoulder, caress his neck and brush his ear. She could feel his arousal through his breeches, but she didn't reach for him, for he never wanted to. Not when they were awake, and she respected his boundaries.
But he had also never really rubbed her legs like this when they were awake either. As she was processing that thought, he slipped his hand between her legs.
An instant moan escaped her in reaction to the intense jolt of pleasure that pulsed through her body. If he was tracing circles, then certainly this was the best spot. And then, despite her desire for him to continue, he withdrew his hand till it rested on her thigh. It left her wanting more and she fluttered her eyes open, wanting to plea with him.
"Do you want me?" Solas' voice breathed through the darkness.
Ennaly could still feel a linger of his touch, confused with the need it instilled in her. She laughed softly, light-headed at her perceived silliness of that question. "What?" she breathed. "Do I want you? I don't think I would be here, fully naked, if I didn't, would I? You felt my body, didn't you?"
Her body was hardly ever more awake with desire than it was. She dearly wanted to roll over and press herself against him, beg for him to continue, but Solas' odd silence made her pause.
And suddenly she remembered what she had just been thinking about.
"Oh," she managed to say as she propped herself up on an elbow. In the darkness, all she could see were glittering eyes. "Do you want me?" she asked quietly. "You've... not wanted to. Not here." Using the glimmer in his eyes as a reference, she reached out to touch his jaw.
His breath was heavy, and he didn't have an immediate answer ready. Ennaly began to think that he wouldn't and wanted to say that it was fine, that they didn't have to do anything he didn't want to, when Solas pushed her hand away and rolled over, trapping her beneath him. He bent down to kiss, but it was short and he quickly leaned back again. "If you want me, then yes, I want you as well," he said, his voice low and husky.
Without reserve now, Ennaly raised herself to kiss him passionately and pull him down against her in a silent reply, but as her back touched the bedroll again, Solas leaned away. "I need you to say it," he insisted, his voice growly low.
She smiled, even if he couldn't see it. Alright, if that was what he wanted, she would comply. Raising herself again, she brought her mouth towards his ear. "I want you, Solas," she whispered, her lips brushing against his skin. "I love you."
She could feel the jolt it sent through his body, but she wasn't sure if it was her words or her touch. It was all he needed to commit to what they were doing. As they resumed their kiss, she let her hands descend down over his chest, and for the first time, he didn't flinch away when her fingers went to the laces of his breeches.
There was the awkward moment of removing it in the darkness while he was still on top of her, using his legs for support, but then he was as naked as she was and back on top.
"Are you sure?" Ennaly asked. "If you don't –"
Lips brushed against her ear. "I want you, Ennaly."
The words sent her heart pounding in her chest and she took him in her hand, her emotions jumping between anticipation and nervousness, before she guided him inside. He moaned quietly and his body tensed under her hands, but she could feel him slowly relax under her touch.
She wanted him to take his time and start moving and set their pace when he was ready for it. Waiting for him, she was strangely aware of her hair sticking to her sweaty forehead, the heat of their bodies, the pressing sensation of him inside. She had wanted to feel close, be connected, and how much more connected could they be, bodies intertwined, skin on skin, sound of heavy breath in the air?
It was only three seconds before another moan escaped him and he started moving. She moaned in response, but it was stifled when lips brushed hers, seeking a kiss. Through her sense of being overwhelmed by pleasure, she was acutely aware of all the little details of him, his slightly sticky skin, the muscles on his back moving under her touch, the murmurs in her ear, the fingers that traced over her skin and teased the tip of her breasts. She gave herself over to him, joining him in his rhythm, tilting her pelvis to create the perfect angle and wrapping her legs around his waist, her nails digging into his shoulders.
Was it different, in the waking world, versus in their dreams?
Yes.
In the Fade, there had always been a perfect environment, a soft bed, or even the perfect stone wall or clearing, tailored to their needs. In the Fade, she had never been aware of a slight knot in the bedroll pressing against her shoulder blade, the awkwardness of breeches stuck behind an ankle, trying not to fall down, the slight cramps that make you change positions.
She thought these discomforts would take away from the experience, but she found that they didn't. It made it real. The world wasn't perfect, but small moments could be and that was enough.
It was only afterwards, as they cuddled against each other, and right before she drifted off to sleep, that Ennaly realised it was the most mundane they've ever been intimate. It wasn't just because of the Fade, for all other times they had been performing sexual activities together in the waking world, there had always been a magical touch to tease her skin. Yet this time had been the most heartfelt of any time before.
Ennaly awoke with gentle nudges at her shoulder. As she half-opened her eyes, she found Solas' face close to hers. Drowsily, she planted a kiss on his cheek and wanted to curl up against him. The blankets fell away, but he pulled them up again to cover her. He nudged her again.
"Vhenan," he whispered, hushed but urgent.
"You're so sweet I might actually vomit," a familiar voice said, startling Ennaly so much, she got entangled in the blankets.
At the entrance of the tent, Dorian's head was visible through the opening. "It's noon," he continued. "We're already awake for several hours, but thought to let you sleep. It really is time now to get up, though. Lots of work to do."
"It's noon?" Ennaly repeated, still half-sleepy.
Dorian grinned at her. "We heard you all the way on the other side of our little camp. Might want to be less loud next time."
"What, really?" Ennaly felt mortified and wiped the sleep out of her eyes, instantly awake. "I wasn't so loud, was I?" she asked, looking at Solas, whose ears also started to turn pink.
"I suggest casting a good silencing spell around you, next time. Don't have to keep quiet that way," Dorian said, but as both Elves turned red, he couldn't keep back his glee and laughed out loud. "You should see your faces," he said, wiping away tears. "Couldn't hear a thing. But now I know what you did last night," he added in a sing-song way.
"You really are the worst, Dorian," Ennaly said, defeated.
He grinned smugly. "That's what you get for teasing me last night! But don't worry, I'll keep quiet. Now, put on some clothes and get outside. I don't know what those non-magic folk would do without our help, do you?"
Dorian left and Ennaly let herself fall back onto the bedroll with a dramatic sigh.
"Next time you have a squabble with Dorian, leave me out of it," Solas said, his ears still pink.
Ennaly extended her arm to him. "But it's cute when you get all flustered," she teased.
"And here I was thinking that only Dorian would find amusement in other people's discomfort," he replied dryly.
She grinned and sat up again. The blankets fell away, but now that they were alone, she didn't need to pull them back up again. She saw Solas looking at her. "Am I not allowed to call my love cute?"
Solas shook his head, his eyes gliding over her body. "You are, but I will not be held responsible for the consequences that might arise from that action." There was a tease in his eyes and the corner of his mouth curled in appreciation at his sight.
"Too much Pride?" she teased in Elven and laughed, leaning over to kiss him, the memory of their entanglement fresh in her mind. She hoped he held no regret. "Are you alright after last night?"
He moved closer and wrapped an arm around her. "I certainly am," he said genuinely, but it wasn't without his signature touch of sorrow. He grabbed something from beside them and tossed Ennaly her shift. "Now, put that thing on. Lovely as you are, you are quite distracting."
Distracting. That's what he'd said to her in the nightmare before he left. That she had been a mere distraction. Displeased, she shook her head. She shouldn't let the nightmare demon get in her mind, especially not when the sun was high in the skies and there was work to do.