The Blighted Nug
The following days were hard work for all. The next night, the bodies of all those that had died in the battle, or had succumbed to wounds, were prepared and gathered. A large pyre was created, one for the two dozen Inquisition soldiers, and a separate pyre for the Wardens who had lost their lives.
Every life lost was one too many, Warden or Inquisition, but at least now it was over.
There was some initial animosity between the two camps, but it was clear that the Wardens that remained were as affected as the Inquisition soldiers, and in the following days, they all worked together to tend to the wounded and prepare for the march back to Skyhold.
Ennaly discussed with Cullen that the army would take the Imperial Highway southwards around Lake Celestine, the way they had come. As they would come upon the Highway, Ennaly and her companions would take the road northwards to pass by the Capital. Hawke planned to go to Weisshaupt and would need to follow the road further, while Ennaly and the others would turn south to Val Royeaux in Seurre, a practical market town situated at the intersection of the Highway and the road to the Val Royeaux.
Her group counted eight now. Moving along the Imperial Highway meant quicker travel than through the wilds, but it also involved more, sometimes tedious, interactions with people. They went off the main road in the region around Val Foret, where an innkeeper notified them of stories about rifts appearing in the countryside. It was both dryer and warmer since the last time they had been in the area north of Lake Celestine, and it was the perfect weather for travelling.
"It's quite different than Tevinter vineyards," Dorian noted as their surroundings changed to rows upon rows of grapevines, the grapes themselves nothing more than small buds at this time of year.
"Superior to these, are they?" Ennaly asked.
"Quite the contrary!" Dorian exclaimed as he sighed contently, looking around. "The surroundings here are so picturesque. Rolling green hills, the grapevines, the sunshine, it is the perfect country life. In Tevinter, it's all about showing off. Landowners try to guide their grapes over the most intricate trellises, trying to outdo each other. They care as much about the magnificence of the vineyards as they do about the quality of the wine. Quite exhausting, really. It just lacks the charm and simplicity of these ones."
"Sounds impractical," Ennaly replied, envisioning having to harvest grapes overhead.
Solas scoffed. "Why would they care? They have slaves to perform dangerous and hard work."
Dorian coughed, trying to be dignified. "Well. I said I preferred these."
Hawke laughed a little awkwardly. "I like this view better, too. Tevinter wine… Well, I know it's good for decorating walls."
He and Varric started a story, but Ennaly felt a familiar magnetic sensation in her left hand, not quite pain, not quite a tickle either. "Everybody?" she said slowly. "I think the rift is near."
With the eight of them, it didn't take long to destroy the demons and close the rifts, and afterwards, they were invited to the house of one of the nobles in gratitude for saving their wine harvest. Their heads swam after a night of wine-based dishes, but they had made new connections that could benefit the Inquisition, least of all with the numbers of wine barrels the Duchess promised to send to Skyhold.
Not everyone they encountered was all too friendly, however. They'd overheard rumours of people being disgusted that an Elf had gotten a noble title, regarding Marquise Briala, and the savage Inquisitor had made it happen. Ennaly was good at ignoring these words, but her friends seemed less able. She pressed them onwards, though, for she didn't want conflict.
A few days of travel later, they arrived in Seurre. It was a little different than other Orlesian cities, less focussed on beauty and more on practicality. The location on a major crossroad had made it grow into the loud, chaotic hub it was today.
They passed rows of warehouses and manufactories for wares like pottery, and when they arrived in the inner city, it was a market unlike anything else. The surroundings weren't without charm, with the buildings at the edge of the square painted in bright colours and overgrown with ivy and bougainvillaea.
It reminded Ennaly of the first time she entered Val Royeux, and she was glad that no panic took hold of her. Even so, Solas wrapped his arms around her shoulder, keeping her close.
"Be right back," Bull informed the others as he spotted a Qunari salesman. "He might have horn balm. I'm itching for the stuff. Literally."
"I could do with new moustache wax," Dorian mused, joining him.
Before they left, Varric noted them about an inn where they would spend the night and meet if they got separated. As they continued on, Ennaly felt calmed by the sight of many Elves. At least that meant less negative attention towards her and Solas. She didn't care for most of the wares on display, when one particular stall caught her eye.
Behind a display of colourful garments and straw hats, sat an elderly Elven woman with the markings of Sylaise on her face, adding embroidery around the neckline of a linen dress.
"Aneth ara," Ennaly said to the woman, who looked up in surprise.
"I have not heard those words in many years, dear. Aneth ara to you too." The Dalish accent was audible in her voice, and Ennaly felt pain pang inside her chest for the memory of her lost clan.
Solas nodded towards the woman with a polite smile on his face.
"Are you... part of the Inquisition?" the woman said, looking at the signs on Ennaly's coat, and slowly, shock overtook her face. "You are the Inquisitor."
Ennaly smiled gently. "I am. But don't be alarmed. I am just a woman."
The woman kept looking at her, and a little uncomfortably, Ennaly let her hand glide over the dresses on display. Well-crafted, but homespun linen fabric was familiar to her touch.
"Are you in search of a new outfit, vhenan?" Solas asked Ennaly.
"Ah, vhenan. Hearing that warms my old heart," the woman remarked, and on Ennaly's curious look, she continued. "I left my clan many years ago, for a man. I have been able to live a well enough life, setting up shop like this."
They chatted and Ennaly explained that if they were going to travel through Val Royeaux, she might do well in trying to blend in. The dresses on sale here catered to the taste of the Orlesian fashion, with more frills and gathers than Ennaly would prefer, but due to the linen fabric and something in the cut, it reminded her just enough of Dalish fashion to see through it. The embroidery was distinctly of Dalish technique, but that was only noticeable if you knew.
Ennaly pondered what dress she wanted, for most bright colours did not complement her features well, when Solas pointed towards a white dress with embroidery near the neckline. Grapes and leaves, in purple and green.
The corners of his mouth curled into an amused grin. "Inquisitor, saviour of the grapevines," he teased.
"It's perfect," Ennaly declared. She chose a large straw hat decorated with fabric flowers and ribbons that complimented the dress, and found a smaller-brimmed, undecorated one for Solas.
"To hide your ears and protect against the sun," she said fondly, and Solas only reluctantly accepted.
As Ennaly went to pay, the woman pressed a purple sash and a necklace of painted wooden beads in her hands. "Consider it a token of gratitude for the hope you brought the Elves, my dear. May you find the same happiness my love brought me." She made a loose fist, placed it over her heart, and bowed her head down, a Dalish token of love.
It was moments like these, small kindnesses from strangers, tokens of gratitude, that she was making a difference, that whatever she was doing had an impact on the wider world around her. "Ma serannas," Ennaly said in genuine thanks and as she wanted to bid the woman farewell, they overheard a Human couple's conversation.
"Darling, I would never shop around this many knife-ears, you know that," the woman said, tittering at her husband.
Ennaly and Solas shared a look, Ennaly timid and Solas angered. Solas wanted to open his mouth, but at Ennaly's tug on his arm, he closed it again.
"Dears, don't let it affect you too much," the Elven saleswoman said. "Think of the future, and how much your current acts might mean for our people."
Ennaly flashed her a watery smile. "Little steps," she replied. "Dareth shiral, hahren."
They found their way towards the others again, Ennaly subdued after that interaction. It was very clear that Solas carried latent anger in his blood. She tried to avoid his sharp eyes.
"Ennaly…" she heard him say in a low voice.
"What?" she replied, spinning around and looking up, hurt still in her eyes. "I didn't like that, but what are we supposed to do? I don't want to cause a scene. That will benefit no one."
She could see in his eyes that he saw the truth in her words.
"Posturing is necessary," she repeated. "At least we will be better disguised in Val Royeaux with these clothes and hat."
"It should not be needed," he said begrudgingly.
She tried to give him a compassionate smile. "I know. I'm sorry," she said, squeezing his hand before they continued, finding Varric, Hawke and Cassandra standing together, a little ahead. Cole was nowhere to be seen, but that was quite usual. At some point, he would just be there again, next to them, as if he hadn't left.
"Help me find an inn," Varric said as he scanned the nearby buildings for signposts. "The Blighted Nug. I couldn't resist an inn with such a despicable name," he added to Hawke.
"Like the Hanged Man?" he replied with a chuckle. They continued on their way, keeping an eye out for the sign. "Did you already arrange something beforehand?"
In the previous towns, they'd just found whatever inn was most convenient or whatever inn got recommended or offered, but that proved harder in larger cities, especially this close to the Capital with a company of eight.
"Might have," Varric smiled, looking up to his friend. "Wrote some letters and all. If we're lucky, there might just be someone waiting for you."
Anticipation lit Hawke's face. "You didn't," he replied with disbelief.
"Let's see if he actually received anything, shall we?" Varric said with a look of mischief.
"Why were we wasting time shopping?" Hawke scoffed. "I believe this is it, the Blighted Nug."
A large, two-storied building stood at a corner of the market square, extending back quite a bit. From the outside, it looked like any other inn, but the moment they stepped inside, it was like entering a new world.
"Huh. If I'd seen the place before, I would have gone with the Bawdy Bard," Varric noted.
It was decorated to mimic the look of the Deep Roads, but Ennaly didn't know if it succeeded. The plastered walls were painted to resemble rock and all around them, geometric shapes and brass details stared back at them. There were even fake columns added in the style of Dwarven architecture. The windows were clad in heavy red velvet draperies, closed so no natural light would shine through. Instead, sconces on the wall provided a warm, flickering light. The contrast from the bright streets to the dark interior was a bit sudden, but the place had its charms.
"Who in their right mind chooses the Blighted Nug over the Bawdy Bard?" Hawke noted dryly.
"The Hanged Man did not actually hang its men. I thought it would just be a funny signpost," Varric shrugged as he went off to speak with the Dwarf innkeeper. A minute later, they followed the man through a long but rather narrow common room. Most of the occupants were Dwarves, but there was a stray Human or two, all looking at them curiously as they passed.
The room they were being led to was not empty. A single figure lounged on a chair with a book, an Elf with white hair. Perched nearby against a table was a large greatsword, almost as tall as the Elf. At the sound of them entering, he shut the book, revealing a face with strange white markings set in a scowl. "Really, Varric, did you turn more Dwarf-like in my absence to choose this awful place?" he said, his voice deep and gravelly. "I have been stuck here for two days awaiting your arrival."
"Nice seeing you too, and sorry. We had to take an unexpected detour," Varric replied apologetically. "I didn't know what kind of place this would be."
Before Ennaly had time to fully take in the figure, Hawke stepped forward and enclosed the Elf in a tight embrace, planting a large kiss on the man's lips. He was murmuring something they couldn't quite catch, and as they parted, the Elf seemed unsure about whether he was pleased with the kiss or not for the public display of affection. The scowl on his face seemed to indicate that he wouldn't accept any comments about it.
"This is Fenris," Hawke said to the others, a broad smile still on his face. "Fenris, these are Seeker Cassandra Pentaghast, Inquisitor Ennaly Lavellan, and Solas."
The Elf's icy stare took them in one at a time. Ennaly knew the markings on his face weren't Vallaslin, but branded Lyrium, having heard all the tales from both Hawke and Varric.
As his eyes fell on her, a spark of annoyance lit inside her. She saw his eyes travelling over her features, her ears, her staff, her Vallaslin. A Dalish mage, it all read, and it resulted in a frown. "Nice to meet you," she said, trying to force herself to be polite and not be intimidated or annoyed. "Hawke and Varric have told us a lot about you."
"And what have you heard?" Fenris replied, his tone just a little bit aggressive. She could see Hawke giving him a side-eyed look of silent communication.
The burning scrutiny in the Elf's green eyes was a little disconcerting, and Ennaly could feel it light up a flame of defiance within her. She could practically taste the prejudice he carried, and if she was correct in her assumptions, both her ancestry and her magical abilities displeased him, as if she had a choice in how and where she was born.
She had been trying to avoid conflict for the past week, but found that it had worn her thin. And now, to be confronted in a place where she hadn't quite expected it, finally hoping to just be herself around her friends... She took a deep breath, trying to keep a level head, before she replied. "Just... That your skills as a warrior are... to be respected."
Fenris raised his eyebrows, and despite their effort, the tension in the room grew. "Respect from a Dalish?" It was clear he tried to say in a calm tone, yet did not entirely succeed. It was like Solas in the early days all over again, yet where Solas acted with a cold dislike, Fenris' was burning with a flame.
She raised her eyebrows like he had, feeling a similar flame roaring within her. Solas slipped a hand on her back, trying to soothe, but she ignored it. "Should a Dalish have no understanding of respect?" she asked with honey-laced defiance, and could see that Fenris was readying himself to fight back.
Hawke laughed a little awkwardly. "Do I need to remind you all we're on the same side here? Fenris, I understand you didn't want to be locked in here for two days, and had I known, I might have gone here sooner. But you are talking to the Inquisitor."
"I don't care about authority," Ennaly commented, the flame inside now almost a roaring fire. "Not when I'm around friends. If he has a problem with me, I would rather hear about it."
He glared at her, and she understood why Varric's nickname for him was Broody. "My apologies," he replied. "I have no problems, Inquisitor." But everything from his tone, to his expression, to his posture, said that he had, and the effort to hide it away was failing.
"Really?" she asked a little scornfully, and locked her arms over each other, trying to ignore Solas' soft tug at her shoulder.
"Alright there, friends!" Varric said loudly, trying to defuse the situation before it would blow up. "Let's take a step back and start over again. Broody, Inquisitor, shake hands. Fenris, she is not at all like Merrill, and Ennaly..." His expression softened into compassion. "He didn't know about your clan, but he is also not responsible. Elves, if for once you can all play nice."
They glared at each other for a moment. He was angry for feeling locked in this place for days, and potentially, he had been dealing with the same negativity she had. Though deep down she wondered if the Humans would have had the guts to say anything negative against Elves with his intimidating stature and brooding glares.
Thinking she might as well be the better person, Ennaly took a step forward, though reluctantly. Solas' hand fell away. "My apologies, Fenris. I meant no harm."
Not for the last time, did Ennaly wish she was taller, so she wouldn't have to look up to meet other people's eyes. Fenris took her hand, and shook it, with a similar begrudging energy as her. "Apologies as well, Inquisitor. I meant no disrespect. According to the word on the street, you have performed some praiseworthy deeds."
Hawke sighed with relief. "Two pouty and glowy Elves together, what a happy day."
Fenris' eyes wandered over to Solas. "I am neither pouty nor glowy, yet pleased to make your acquaintance," Solas replied.
"You're just the most Elfy," Ennaly said fondly towards Solas.
Fenris observed them and seemed to spot their familiarity. "Not an easy place to stand, next to someone that attracts so much attention."
"Trouble, you mean," Hawke said. "Mind you, I am alive thanks to her, and that glowy thing on her hand."
The energy in the room improved and they started to chat about their journeys, when the sound of approaching chatter interrupted them.
"Here you all are," the jovial voice of Dorian said as he opened the door. They turned around to see him and Bull entering, the latter carrying a multitude of packages that he placed on a nearby table.
Dorian, not having carried anything, continued through the room and paused as his eyes fell on Fenris. "Hey, don't I know you from somewhere? Didn't you once...? Oh."
The drop in atmosphere was instant as Fenris locked his gaze with Dorian. Dorian wore an expression of utter shock while Fenris resumed his burning anger. "You associate yourself with magisters?"
"Ho now, I am not technically a magister," Dorian replied, but it sounded like self-defence.
"But you were in the company of magisters," Fenris said heatedly. "I believe I was once forced to pour wine for you!"
Tense silence rang through the room as everybody was unsure of what to do.
"I didn't force it," Dorian replied, a little half-heartened but almost frightened.
It angered Fenris further. "I didn't see you jumping to our defence either. You benefitted from us." He only stopped stepping closer as Hawke grabbed his arm. "You must have had slaves at home."
"We - we treated them well."
And here they could all observe why Hawke said Fenris was glowy. The white lines visible on his face, neck and arms started to glow in a white-blue light, illuminating his form like a wraith. He was no mage, and Ennaly wondered if it reacted on his emotions, or if he had a conscious control over it.
The tension in the room could be cut in multiple ways. Ennaly felt unclear whom she needed to align with. Some instinct within her would usually agree with Dorian, especially after her rather antagonistic meeting with Fenris, but right now, she hardly did.
But she didn't want a fight. If this was Elves versus Humans, she supposed she must be aligned to Solas and Fenris, but Cassandra and Hawke seemed as uneasy as her. And if it was former slaves versus former slave owners... She had a hard time picturing Dorian in that light, yet knew it was the truth. Just how different was society in Tevinter, actually?
But out of possible alliances to be made, it was lovers that calmed the situation down. At Hawke's whispers, Fenris' glow dimmed down and Bull let his arm drop that he protectively held out in front of his kadan.
Solas stepped towards Dorian. "We have had these conversations before, have we not? You said you had a lot to think about. Consider this another item on that list. You can mean a lot to a lot of people by taking righteous actions. Do not say you cannot do it, for you are in the best position for it. The most effective change comes from within."
"I..." Dorian started, staring from Solas to Fenris, then finally at Ennaly. It was her look of doubting disbelief that made him reconsider. "Yes. Yes, I think I will try, if... when go back. It has been several years since I was home. Perhaps I have to face it again. My apologies... Fenris?"
Fenris only gave a small nod in reply before he pulled his hand out of Hawke's grasp. As they all tried to collect themselves again, Fenris considered Solas. "Were you a slave too?" he asked, his voice still a little agitated.
Ennaly knew what Solas was going to say before he said it. "In a sense." He never quite explained what that sense was, however.
"But you can do magic? You are not Dalish and not a circle mage either?"
"He's our special and unique snowflake," Dorian said, before a few nasty looks shot his way and after a small apologetic cough, he remained silent, lost in contemplation.
"I have chosen my own path," Solas replied to Fenris. "It seems that you have, as well."
While Solas and Fenris were talking, Varric faced the room. "I think we have finally established that everyone in this room is on the same side. Shall we just call for dinner? I could do with a stiff drink or two. Perhaps some cards later?"
After the tension, the evening was a splendid one. It took Dorian a few hours and drinks before he managed to open up again and he wasn't met with animosity. To nobody's surprise, Solas won their card game.
During the evening, Hawke elaborated on his travel plans. The next day, he and Fenris would take the road further north to continue their long journey towards Weisshaupt. They would be joined on their way there by Hawke's younger brother Carver, and the Hero of Ferelden.
"We're actually cousins," Hawke explained. "Magic often runs in families, and well... The Amells were blessed, or cursed, with a lot of magic. Daylen got dragged off to a circle when he was still young though, so I never got the chance to really meet. We recently met and he has that Amell look about him, you know?"
"And penchant for trouble," Fenris added. "This reminds me... If I am correct, your Spymaster is Leliana. Daylen asked me to give this letter to her, and her only." He grabbed a letter from his pack and handed it to Ennaly. From the thickness, it seemed to consist of a multitude of pages.
Hawke looked over the table to everyone. "I will miss you all. You, with your glowy hand, and the best dance partner I've ever had," he said to Ennaly. "Cassandra, charmed as always. And Varric... You know you can still change your mind."
"I have to sit this one out, you know. You have Fenris now, you will be in good hands. There will be fewer demons where you're going. And fewer Orlesians."
"Lot less chest hair, too."
Varric grinned, but his inner pain of being separated from his friend shone through. "Oh well. That's gotta stay. We'll meet up again, when this is over."
"We always will," Hawke agreed.
"Rather forward, but sure," Ennaly said as she found both herself and Solas standing naked in a snowy mountainous landscape, scattered with tall trees, and dotted with steamy hot pools.
Solas smiled faintly. "Come into the water," he said, and they both entered the pools. It was warm and soothing. "These last few weeks have proven to be quite challenging, vhenan. And your avoidance of conflicts only fuels the lightning storm brewing within you until it reaches a breaking point and detonates unexpectedly."
Ennaly felt a blush of embarrassment overtake her. "You mean with Fenris?" She felt a little ashamed of her baiting in hindsight. If Hawke and Varric hadn't stopped her, she might have come to regret her decisions.
Solas smiled knowingly as a reply.
Ennaly sighed, trying to relax in the warm water, surrounded by a beautiful landscape. This is exactly the kind of thing that should make her calm down, nature and a bath, but she found that the pain, fear, annoyances, and injustices of the last few weeks overshadowed her inability to find inner tranquillity.
"What do you do to relax?" she asked. While she had been shifting around trying to get comfortable, Solas remained motionless, eyes closed.
"Meditation," he said simply with a soft smile as he opened his eyes. "Are you struggling to find your inner peace? I recall from those early days, how much calmer and at ease you appeared after a good demon fight."
Ennaly was taken aback by his assessment, having not realised that he was right. Had he been that observant even when he didn't yet like her? She forgot how much of an open book she always was. "Really?"
Solas shrugged ever so slightly, not breaking his outwards serenity. "It was evident to me. I doubt we will be able to fight any demons in the coming days, but I know something that might help quell that lightning storm within you..."
He made a gesture with his hands and their surroundings changed to a large hall, filled with stone busts, glass vases and delicate statues. It was a mismatch, lacking the cohesion of a nobleman's collection.
He smiled encouragingly. "Release your storm."
Ennaly laughed with disbelief. "What, really?"
"Certainly. Focus your magic, and you should be able to manifest anything your imagination could conceive."
Feeling silly, Ennaly stared at the objects around her. "Trying won't hurt, I guess. If you think it'll make me feel better."
She stood still, her focus on a stone bust in front of her, envisioning it being the woman who had said she didn't want to shop around knife-ears. Just like she did when was awake, she focussed on the knot next to her heart, where the lines of her Vallaslin came together, and on the sensation travelling through her outstretched arm. She felt it tingle past her wrist, her fingertip... The bolt of lightning unleashed towards the bust, vibrant and volatile, illuminating the objects in its path, and with a loud impact, it shattered into a thousand fragments.
She recoiled at the sharp echoes that reverberated in the hall, but at the same time... She was smiling. The second bolt was easier. A glass vase shattered with a ringing sound. She could feel the tension in her body lifting, and then there was the next bolt of lightning, and the next, and it wasn't long before the magic came forth without much active thought, and they were surrounded by a display of light and shadow, echoes and shatters and everything breakable was destroyed.
Ennaly laughed in the release of emotion. She felt powerful again, in control, like she didn't need to keep her toes in line around Humans and nobles.
The sight of the shards around her instilled her with a sense of wicked pleasure and she turned around to Solas, eyes blazing. "That felt good." She walked towards him in confident, large steps and she saw his eyebrows rising in amusement and a shimmer of admiration, a smile appearing on his lips. When Ennaly was in front of him, she wrapped her arms around him and kissed him without hesitation.
She broke away just as Solas seemed to be giving in to the kiss and her body against him. "You say find your peace in meditation," she said coyly with a twinkle in her eyes. "I think that's only partly true. I've seen you release tension in other, more cathartic ways," She lowered her voice to a whisper and tip-toed to reach his ear. "I'm right here, ma'arlath."
She gently but playfully bit her teeth on his earlobe before she parted and took a few steps backwards, reaching behind her head to grab the hairpin. Her hair cascaded down over her shoulders as she tossed the pin aside, for this was the Fade after all and things wouldn't really break. As the pin hit the floor, a large tree erupted in the place where it clattered, and instead of smashed objects, they were surrounded by tall, elegant towers in a sunny courtyard. There was a tiered fountain nearby and a scattering of white flowers. Tarasyl'an Te'las.
A fire lit in Solas' eyes as a wicked grin spread over his lips, eying her up and down. "You sketch a devious image, vhenan," he said in a low voice, as Ennaly pushed against his shoulders to force him on his back.