Faded Purple
For several prolonged seconds, their raspy breath was the only sound disturbing the peace as they stared at the shattered glass of the Eluvian in front of them.
"The troops are still out there, fighting!" Cassandra said with a rising panic that was amplified by her discomfort in this place that was never attuned to Humans.
"They don't know Corypheus can just be reborn," Varric added with desperation. "Shit."
"Feasting, festering, fearing… It is not what the Warden wanted," Cole muttered as he shook back and forth.
"Nobody did, Kid," Varric soothed.
Ennaly stood nailed to the spot, her muscles tensed, so much it almost hurt. Solas and Dorian stood on either side of her, talking to her, but like the conversation of the others, their words fell on near deaf ears. Instead, Ennaly was listening to the voices she could hear inside, trying to get her attention.
The whispers were urgent, but also demanding, a strange combination of words and visions. They talked to her from inside her head, where normally only her own voice resided. But what was her own voice? She was part of the cacophony now and if she didn't figure out which of these whispers was her own, she would lose herself.
Morrigan scoffed. "If only someone with a better understanding of the Well had taken its power."
Solas shifted his attention to her. "Morrigan…" he said in a low voice, nearly a growl, that couldn't quite hide his impatience with her.
"That is what you would have preferred too, Elven expert. I would have understood the Well. And perhaps you would have understood it better than her."
"Can't you see it's hurting her?" Dorian said concerned.
"Be quiet!" Ennaly called out, the arguing voices of her friends not helping her distinguish the flurrying voices inside. Their breath was loud and disharmonised, the rustle of their clothing deafening.
They all stopped speaking and stared at her as she took a few steps backwards, trying to reorient herself after a bout of dizziness.
"Got you, Boss," a rumbling voice said surprisingly softly, as large, muscled arms caught her.
It was eerily quiet now on the pathway of the in-between world inside the Eluvians, and finally, Ennaly could concentrate enough on the voices. Her own one was still in there, identifiable. She listened and tears ran over her cheeks. These voices weren't antagonistic, they only wanted to help. Urgently, they told her what she needed to know before they soothed her with consoling words. And when they were done speaking, she could finally hear the silence, too.
Peace.
The voices imbued a sudden clarity in her mind, and she was hyper-aware of her surroundings, the breath of the others finally harmonised.
Seven faces gazed at her in anticipation, carrying concern, anxiety, hope. But out of all of those faces, there was one she didn't dare to meet.
"Corypheus and his dragon fled away," she said, her voice calm and clear. "He will not harm our troops. His forces remain behind in the Wilds, but they are already weakened. Our troops will have the strength to oppose them."
Cassandra appeared stricken, unsure what to make of the information, but Varric let out a relieved sigh.
"The voices told you this?" Morrigan asked in astonishment.
Ennaly smiled at the woman. "Yes. But they're silent now."
Regret and resignation appeared on Morrigan's sharp features. "Perhaps it is better this way," she muttered as she averted her eyes. "With Kieran..."
Bull took a step forward. "Why would Corypheus flee?" he asked. "He could have wiped out the bulk of our forces. It's what I would have done. It is what Cullen would have done."
"What he wanted was no longer within the temple," Morrigan said before she turned to Ennaly, her tone serious. "You have now taken two things he desperately wanted, Inquisitor."
The Anchor, and the Well.
She didn't want to think about it.
"What do we do now?" Varric asked.
"Take the Eluvian to Skyhold, I assume," Morrigan replied as she stared out over the runic path into the void that would lead them to the Crossroads.
"Let's take a few moments to rest, first," Varric said. "This place… It messes with my mind. Need a minute to adjust."
A collective sigh of relief sounded through the area as most of them tried to relax and attune. All the while, Ennaly avoided the eyes of the one person she cared most about. When everyone was occupied with collecting themselves, she walked up to Solas.
His eyes had been on her all this time, but while the others seemed relieved, his anxiety hadn't left. It was mingled now with confusion, hurt, anger, and fear.
And she felt responsible. She took a careful step closer to him, took his hand, and pulled him along behind a vine-covered wall. Solas seemed unsure what to do with himself, if he wanted to hold her or not, and in the end, he spun around, turning his back to her.
It hurt, but she guessed she deserved it.
"I begged you not to drink," he called out angrily. "Why could you not have listened?"
"I - I'm sorry," she tried, feeling herself shrink under the harshness of his words. The clarity she had felt just a moment ago, left her as steadily as it had come.
Solas sighed angrily and turned back to her. He closed the difference between them and took her left hand in his, raising it between them. It was strange how calm the Anchor was, since it usually flared up in this place. "You already carry the power of one... God. And now you gave yourself to the service of another."
Another? Did that mean that he knew the Anchor didn't belong to Mythal?
"Solas..." she whispered, pulling her hand back to place it on his chest. "I'm sorry. We didn't have that much time at the temple and I'm only half-done processing it all, but... This is Mythal. And besides... I gave myself to her service when I turned sixteen."
Solas gazed at her with pleading eyes and lifted his hand to trace over the purple lines on her cheek, surprisingly gentle despite his fading anger. "But this is a compulsion, not just a… pledge," he said. "Everything you do, whether you know it or not, will be for her. You have given up a part of yourself."
"I'm nobody's slave," she replied.
Almost instantly, Solas' eyes flared open and he pulled his hand away from her Vallaslin as if burned. She winched internally. What an inconsiderate word to use, knowing his past.
"I'm sorry."
"Ennaly, vhenan..." he started, but he struggled to find words.
"This is Elven," she tried. "Would you truly rather have Morrigan carry this power?"
"Anyone but you," he said, his voice quiet now. He took a deep breath, pulled her against him, and rested their foreheads together.
Whatever doubt Ennaly had for him, left her. How could she have ever thought anything different about him? He hardly ever showed her more emotions than he did now, making it clear the events affected him greatly. His feelings for her were evident, and she had dismissed his misgivings at the temple as if he hadn't mattered.
"I am sorry," she muttered again, as she wrapped her arms around him. "I should have listened to you, or at least talked to you. But, we were in a hurry, and perhaps I was just selfish…"
She leaned back to gaze into his eyes, but found his emotions too intense, and stared at the ground. "It's just… Hearing Abelas call me shadow, and then Morrigan being so condescending, it just wore me down. I can forgive Abelas, because imagine… Millennia of service while seeing the world you know slowly crumbling down. I guess I am a shadow of whatever he is. He shouldn't have been possible. Corypheus shouldn't have been possible. I wonder what else that should not be possible, turns out to be."
Solas sought her gaze. She saw the remorse in his eyes. "Ennaly, vhenan. You are no shadow. There is… so much to talk about. But this is hardly the place for such conversations. Let us continue this later, when we are back in Skyhold."
Ennaly felt dizzy with her conflict between doubt and certainty. "You are right," she said, but her heart ached when she saw the pain in Solas. "Solas? Are we okay? I'm so sorry. I cannot undo what I did, but know that... I did it with a hope. The Well contains the knowledge of all the Sentinels that protected the temple, once. Elven knowledge. You might see it as a compulsion, but I see it as a chance of... restoration. There is so much knowledge lost that the Dalish forgot or mistook. After Corypheus is defeated, I can use this knowledge to rebuild, restore. I can help make the world a better place."
The pain in his eyes faded to careful disbelief. "You risked everything in the hope that the future is better? What if it isn't? What if you wake up to find that the future you shaped is worse than what was?"
"Then I'll just take a deep breath and try again," Ennaly replied, smiling reassuringly.
"Just like that?"
She could see hope blossoming within him and she tenderly traced her fingers along his jawline. "If we don't keep trying, we'll never get it right. And I'm very good at trying. Isn't that the best we can do?"
Solas smiled at her, and finally, the tension between them faded. "Yes. Thank you," he said quietly and pulled her against him. "I should have known... Your indomitable spirit."
The words dissipated against her lips before he kissed her. It was filled with a tenderness that held a desperate passion and Ennaly's knees buckled. How could Solas do that, she wondered, place so many emotions in a kiss that he normally never showed? The anger he had showed just a minute ago hadn't truly been anger, but fear, and this kiss was a conviction.
A cough pulled them away from each other. Startled, they unfurled from their embrace and spun around to see Dorian. He stood at the edge of the wall, casually leaning against it. "I am happy to see you are looking better again, Ennaly dear. But can you two please continue that after we get back to Skyhold?"
"I think we could," Ennaly replied with a little abashed grin.
Dorian smiled back. "Great. Because we non-Elves feel pretty terrible here and would like nothing better than actual ground below our feet. Let us continue."
They started their journey through the Crossroads. It was a strange passing. Usually, Shimmers was there to guide them through the pathways and open Eluvians when needed and they'd have her cheery or dry remarks to keep them company. Now, none of them were in any particularly chatty mood.
It was just before midnight when they stepped outside of the Eluvian in Skyhold. Even at this late hour, Skyhold was quieter than normal. Most of the inhabitants were still in the Arbor Wilds, even the advisors and a lot of the workforce.
"Can you contact them in your dreams?" Ennaly asked Solas. "To explain to them what happened. They might all think we are dead if we don't return."
"I can attempt it, but not guarantee it," Solas replied carefully.
"Please try," Ennaly pleaded. "Do they need to be an Elf? I'd say, try Briala, because we know she stayed behind in the camp. Charter and Shimmers might be out in the field and might be..." She didn't want to think about it. "...Unavailable. Briala can relay the message to Leliana and the others."
"Briala?" Solas considered. "Yes, I can try that."
"Good," Dorian sighed in relief. "Does that mean we can finally sleep? I feel like I can sleep to the next full moon."
They all went their separate ways to their respective chambers. After seeing Bull and Dorian walking together, Ennaly turned to Solas. She had no wish to be alone tonight, and all desire to be held. "Can I join you?" she asked, gazing up through her lashes. "I don't want to walk all the way to my chambers."
The corners of Solas lips curled. "I did teach you how to Fade-step. You could easily reach the top by magic."
He was right, of course, but Ennaly recognised it as a tease. "Sure. I will stay all alone in a bed large enough for me to lay in sideways."
Solas' lips curled further into a grin. "On second thought... It might be cruel to expect you to use even more magic after what we've been through."
"I'll promise not to steal the blankets," she teased back.
Solas took a step closer and wrapped an arm around her. "Do not make promises you cannot keep, my heart."
"I'll keep you warm, ma'arlath," she murmured as she curled her arm around him, leaning her head against his shoulder.
In Solas' room, they took off their dirty clothes and washed away the grime from their skin. Their full gear and pack were still left in the camp in the Arbor Wilds. Ennaly could have grabbed one of Solas' clean shirts from his wardrobe, but she could also nestle again Solas naked. Wrapped in each other's arms, they fell asleep.
Ennaly was the first to wake. Quietly, she gazed at Solas. He looked peaceful when asleep, almost a statue but for his softly riding chest. She fought the urge to caress his face, to trace the angle of his jaw and his ears.
It was a ridiculous idea that she had thought him like Abelas.
Wasn't it?
Afraid that she would disturb his slumber and interrupt his dream to contact Briala, she left the bed and adjusted the blanket to cover Solas again. Still naked, she tip-toed to his wardrobe and grabbed one of his tunics. It felt good on her skin, comfortable, like she was carrying him close to her.
Curiously, she looked around the room. They didn't always spend their nights together in Skyhold, but when they did, it was rarely in this room. Besides his bed, wardrobe, and washstand, he had a desk and a table with two chairs, and almost every surface was covered with books and scattered papers. She sat down at the table and had to roll up the sleeves of the tunic to use her hands. With interest, she looked over a stack of papers and found scribbled notes and maps marked with lines. Solas had been doing research to try and predict the location of future rifts opening. Not too long ago, he had correctly predicted a large rift opening in a cave in the Hinterlands, so the research had proved its success.
Under a large stack of papers, Ennaly noticed the corner of a sketch with only a few lines visible. She couldn't see what it was. Curious to know, she slipped the paper from the stack found a sketch of herself. The pose was from her side back, gazing out over a bare shoulder. Her hair was braided and woven with flowers, as it had been on the summer solstice festival, the flower that Solas had conjured above her ear. Occasionally during their travels, he asked her to sit still so he could draw her, but she hadn't posed that day. He must have drawn her from memory. Smiling, she left it on top of the maps.
"I will never tire of seeing you in my clothes," a voice sounded and she turned around to find Solas looking at her, propped up on one arm with the blanket bunched at his waist, his chest bare.
"It is rather comfortable," she replied and stood up to sit on the bed and kiss Solas. "Did it work, contacting Briala?"
"It did," Solas said as he reclined back on the pillow. "She was relieved to hear from us, for they did assume our demise at the hands of Corypheus before his retreat. There are some losses in our troops, and while regrettable, they are not large. She and some scouts will take the advisors to return to Skyhold via the nearest Eluvian, still a few days of travel away. They should arrive at Skyhold in a few days' time. Knight-Captain Rylen will be in charge in Cullen's absence."
The news was as good as she could have hoped for and Ennaly sighed in relief. "You are amazing," she stated. "Imagine what would have happened if you hadn't been able to contact them." Relieved, she started to trace circles over his bare chest. "Can you teach me this dream thing?"
"Dream thing? Your words carry such elegance, vhenan," he teased but as he spoke, his smile faltered and turned sorrowful. "I am afraid it will take... many years to learn, if at all."
"Might as well try, right?"
He cupped her face. "We shall see."
"Something wrong? You seem a little sad."
Solas smiled faintly. "Forgive my melancholy. Corypheus has cost us much. The Temple of Mythal did not deserve such a fate."
"Yeah…" Ennaly agreed, feeling his sadness overtake her. "I still can't believe it."
Solas traced his thumb over her lips before he dropped his hand. "We have endured many losses, but this was a victory against Corypheus. The Anchor, the Well… And now the orb he carries, and its stolen power… That, at least, we may still recover. With luck, some of the past may yet survive." He sighed, a little wistfully.
Ennaly silently cursed that mournful was a good expression on him. "You're being grim and fatalistic in the hope of getting me into bed, aren't you?"
His tone gained a dark quality as his smile widened. "I am grim and fatalistic. Getting you into bed is just an enjoyable side benefit. And technically you are already here."
This might be an even better expression, Ennaly thought, feeling something awaken inside her. "Hmm... A fortunate surprise," she murmured with a coy smile, swinging her leg over his to sit across him. He raised his eyebrows as she leaned down for a kiss, but he replied nonetheless. With a growing sense of excitement, she remembered that he was naked below the blanket, and she was only wearing a shirt with nothing underneath...
But Solas leaned away before Ennaly could turn their kiss passionate. "Vhenan..." A whisper of fear passed over his eyes. A little melancholic, he reached out his hand to gently caress her bare shoulder, visible since the neckline slipped down. Somehow Ennaly was reminded of a night, half a year ago in the Dales where Solas had clutched at her, distraught.
It seemed like he wanted to say more, but couldn't find the words. She smiled encouragingly and leaned back. "You wanted to talk," she started. "Does it have anything to do with what we learned in the temple? I still have many questions, too."
He curled the tail end of her braid around his finger. "In a sense," he said quietly. "Yes."
It was the answer he always gave when he didn't want to give a straight one, and doubt started to enter her mind again. But there and then she decided that whatever he would tell her wouldn't change her feelings.
"Solas?" she started, her hands flat on his chest. "You know you can talk to me, don't you? I love you."
When he caught her gaze, his smile lit up and spread. "I know, vhenan." He wrapped his arms around her, pulled her closer to his chest, and kissed her. Again, before she could turn it passionate, he leaned back. "Tempting as you are, I think the others would appreciate knowing what I learned from Briala. We can talk after that, in the herb garden."
Ennaly sighed, and with great effort, pulled herself away and got to her feet. "You are right," she said, lifting her arms up to twist her hair in a bun. The tunic caught around her breasts, outlining them clearly, which did not escape Solas' eyes. "Just so you know, I claim ownership over this shirt. I don't want to wear my dirty clothes, and I don't want to go to my room for clean ones naked."
"You want to walk through Skyhold dressed like that?" His eyebrows rose as he glanced over her body, from the way the tunic hung down one shoulder, to her bare legs.
Ennaly grinned as she started to gather her dirty clothes and jewellery that she'd left scattered around. "Posturing is necessary, I know. But I can hop around with my Fade step. They'll hardly see me. I can posture later."
The leaves of the little tree in the Elven garden started to show signs of the changing season. In a few weeks, every deciduous tree would turn yellow, orange and red. The wolfsbane flowers had grown even taller in the two weeks since they were here last, now reaching Ennaly's waist.
It was about a year ago now that she left her clan to go spy on the Conclave. The journey had taken her weeks by herself. Travel had been easier then, without Fade rifts and demons. It hadn't been difficult for her to keep to the forests and slip by stray bandits, templars or mages.
If only her clan was still around so she could tell them everything she had learned in the Temple of Mythal. She took a deep breath, the fragrances of elfroot and sage soothing to her senses. Solas was looking at the painted fresco, tracing his finger deliberately over the branches of a tree as if with a paintbrush. He turned around as Ennaly's footsteps drew nearer.
"I saw visions when I was in the Well," she started, facing the waterfall with her gaze turned inward. "I think they were of Mythal herself. It was too much to process, but one image stood out to me. A city clad in gold." She took another deep breath and turned to Solas. He regarded her with his strange impassiveness, but Ennaly knew by now that it was a facade that hid his true emotions.
"It's strange," she continued, taking a step closer. "Human legend talks about a golden city, the one that the magisters corrupted and turned black. I always thought that it was those magisters that somehow destroyed the Elves in the times of Arlathan, but Abelas claimed it wasn't the case. He said it were the Elves themselves. Was he lying, do you think?"
The last rays of the setting sun bathed the waterfall in gold as Solas faced Ennaly. "If you remove the layer of nostalgia from stories of the Elven Gods, you might see the danger. They were arrogant and fickle. They warred amongst themselves. They had feuds, vendettas."
"You're saying it were the Gods?" she said, staring at him in disbelief.
"I do not believe they were Gods. Certainly something existed to start the legends. If not Gods, then mages, or spirits, or something we've never seen."
Ennaly frowned. "After all we've seen, you still deny that they are Gods?"
"Vhenan," he said, and some urgency entered his voice. "What is a God to you? Someone immortal? Powerful? You have seen Abelas. He has been alive for millennia. Now, imagine the most powerful mages that lived in that time, to which magic was as natural as breathing."
A storm of emotions raged in Ennaly, and she struggled to make sense of his words. They opposed how she saw the world, the Creator Gods, Mythal and Elgar'nan... They were more than just powerful. But Mythal was killed, according to Abelas.
"But then… Fen'Harel. Abelas said…" She paused, unsure if she was scared or not, but if not scared, then what? She still hadn't fully processed everything she had heard the day before.
Solas sensed her uncertainly and took a step closer to gently take her hand. "Vhenan… I apologise," he started, his tone soothing now. "I did not mean to overwhelm you like this. Come."
He took a step back, her hand still in his, beckoning her to follow him. She did, but her mind remained in turmoil. Solas stepped to the edge of the garden and let the sunlight wash over them, outlining them in gold. Tenderly, he took her other hand in his.
"Close your eyes," he said quietly while smiling at her. After a pause of hesitation, she did so. "Now… Focus on your surroundings. You say that so often." She could hear the smile in his voice. "Do you hear it? A lone bee, collecting nectar to see its hive through the winter. Can you smell the honeysuckle?"
His voice was a soft chant that guided her senses around and the rush of the nearby waterfall fell away. She could hear the bee buzzing around now, could smell the scent of a small vine of late-blooming honeysuckle, subtle, but present underneath the sharper scents of elfroot and sage. A breeze caught through the garden, rustling through the small tree.
"I do," she replied with a smile on her face.
"The Veil is thin here," Solas continued in a whisper. "Can you feel it on your skin, tingling?"
She did. It was a faint sensation, like the smallest of touches. Attuned as she was to her surroundings, she didn't startle when Solas reached out a hand to her cheek and gently caressed it. Contented, she opened her eyes to find him gazing at her. His eyes had never looked more purple than they did now, the usual specs in silver overtaking them. Or was it simply her own reflection?
He trailed his fingers over her features as if he were trying to imprint her in his mind. As if he needed to, since he knew her features so well that he could draw her portrait from memory. "I was trying to determine some way to show you what you mean to me," he said, shifting his hands to her waist. "And then I thought, the best gift I can offer is… the truth."
"Solas?" she asked in a whisper, uncertain what he meant by truth. Solas never lied.
His eyes burned with honesty as he continued. "When I joined the Inquisition, it felt like the right cause to close the Breach, and after that to oppose Corypheus. I never expected that in the midst of it all, I could meet someone like you, a comfort that I thought had left the world. You drew my attention away from the Fade. You have become important to me, more important than I could have imagined."
Ennaly's smile grew, but she couldn't shake away a certain anticipation in her stomach. Despite the sweetness in Solas' words, she felt like she stood at a precipice of change. He hadn't told her anything new yet. She knew he cared for her. Just as she cared for him.
Solas' smile faded as he continued. "Then what I must tell you… the truth…" He stopped talking, his breath held with suspense. He seemed to have a hard time finding the right words to continue, and Ennaly's heart slowed down its rhythm, loud and heavy in her throat.
The truth? Had she been right on her assumptions in the temple, about Solas? Was he going to confess? Her heart beat like a slow drum, but the words that finally crossed his lips were not what she expected to hear.
"Your face..."
Her... face? Was there something wrong with her face? She frowned, taken aback a little, and Solas seemed to realise how this sounded and steadied himself. "The Vallaslin. In my journeys in the Fade, I have seen things. I have discovered what those marks mean."
In her confusion, Ennaly found the words again to speak. "They honour the Elven Gods. Even Abelas and the Sentinels wore them."
Gods. But Solas said they weren't Gods.
"They are slave markings, or at least, they were in the time of ancient Arlathan," Solas replied apologetically.
She gazed up at him, and a helplessness threatened to paralyse her. His words were distorted, they didn't make sense. "But..." she started, pleading for understanding. "Slave markings? If that is true, then why would Abelas..."
Bound, as we are bound.
"Millennia of service, bound to protect a crumbling temple?" Solas continued, "Sorrow. That is not a happy fate. Abelas and the Sentinels were honoured, high-ranking slaves, but slaves nonetheless."
The final golden sunrays lit the clearing and the place could hardly look more serene, a stark contrast to the emotions that stormed inside Ennaly. She didn't want to believe Solas' words. But he had never lied to her, had he? And he certainly wouldn't about this.
Tears started to well in her eyes, the sense of helplessness overwhelming. "So this is… what? Just one more thing the Dalish got wrong?"
Ennaly had slowly edged away from Solas, but he pulled her closer again. "I am sorry," he replied, and the slight tremor in his voice told her that he was.
Finally, she had an answer on why Solas used to look at her Vallaslin with a frown on his face. Was that all he used to see? A girl that took pride in what he knew was nothing more than the markings of a slave? The opposite of him, free from his own enslavement, to be confronted by someone who wore slave marks with pride?
Pride.
She closed her eyes and took a deep, shuddering breath to calm herself and she started to talk, shakily. "We try to preserve our culture, and this is what we keep? Relics of a time when we were no better than Tevinter?" She wanted to scoff, but it escaped as a sob. "And what we assume Humankind's greatest fault, the destruction of Arlathan, wasn't even caused by them. We Dalish really are shadows, if all we remember is twisted and observed through rose-coloured glass."
Her heart ached in a way it had never ached before. Her past had already died with her clan, and now she learned everything had been a lie.
But Solas still looked at her compassionately. His eyes were the same colour as the wolfsbane behind him now. With the sun on his face, she could count the freckles on his nose.
"I am so sorry for causing you pain," he replied, and he couldn't hide the edge of hurt in his voice. "It was selfish of me. I never wanted to argue the Dalish with you. You had no way of knowing. But for all they got wrong, they did one thing right. They made you."
She wished she didn't know. A childish wish, for she always valued knowledge higher than blissful ignorance. Overwhelmed, she wanted to turn away, but Solas gently pulled her back.
"I did not tell you this to hurt you," he continued soothingly. "I look at you, and I see what you truly are… And you deserve better than what those cruel marks represent. If you like, I know a spell… I can remove the Vallaslin."
Remove? The lines she used to take pride in, that turned out nothing more than lies? We are the Dalish, Keepers of the lost lore, walkers of the lonely path. We are the last of the Elvhen, and never again shall we submit.
It was truly cruel, a bitter paradox. The Dalish vowed never to give into slavery, yet the marks they bore to signify their heritage were once used to indicate those. Ennaly felt an intense burst of undirected anger.
He is right, something whispered in her mind. The voices of the Well?
A sudden clarity washed away the anger until only remorse remained behind. "What about my other Vallaslin?" she asked as she looked up, begging for understanding. One hand rested on her chest, the other on her lower belly.
"Those, I believe, are reclaimed by the Dalish."
It was some small comfort. "And your spell? Will they be removed too?"
For a moment, Solas hesitated. "I am… uncertain. I believe they will be."
Ennaly averted her eyes. She wasn't sure what answer she had hoped to receive. Out of the lines that encircled her body, there was one set she loved, and one set she hated. So much, that she once tried to burn them off herself, so she would never have to endure their failed promise ever again. She still bore the scar on her hip as a memory of her failed attempt.
She jerked her eyes back to Solas. "Cast your spell," she said.
Solas nodded at her resolution. "Sit," he suggested, and they both kneeled down on the garden floor.
Ennaly remembered the pain when the lines were etched upon her skin, unbearable, but she was not allowed to show it. She thought of the slaves that were branded. They would have had to endure it too, scared, forced into a life they did not choose.
"Will it hurt?" she asked in a wavering voice. She would be strong again, if it did.
Warm affection lit his eyes. "No. But it might tingle."
"That - that's okay."
Bright white light flowed from his hands as he lifted them towards her face. She kept her eyes locked on his, her body frozen by emotions. Solas' spell was warm on her skin like the sunrays that had finally left the clearing, a gentle sensation tingling on her cheeks. The touch of his magic always calmed her and she felt it wash over her, like the sun melted away snow in early spring.
The tenseness in her muscles faded away as the Vallaslin was lifted.
"Ar lasa mala revas. You are free," Solas declared as the light faded. Gently, his hands caressed her hair, over her ears and then tenderly over her arms, taking her hands in his as they rose.
The ability to speak had not yet returned to Ennaly, but she held onto Solas as he slowly pulled her against him. His eyes caressed her face. "You are so beautiful," he whispered.
She tilted her head upwards and leaned in for a kiss, sweet and tender, full of promises of love and connection, comfort and protection. A moment that could last forever and she'd be happy.
But all of a sudden, Solas pulled back and he stared at her, his eyes once again grey as twilight settled in around them. The seconds that passed before he spoke seemed to expand to an eternity, and Ennaly could do nothing more than stare at him slowly leaning away from her embrace, not understanding what was happening.
"And I am sorry," he said finally, almost devoid of emotions. "I distracted you from your duty. It will never happen again." He leaned back, fully out of her touch.
Time stopped as she looked at him, not comprehending what he just said, and not knowing why he stepped back. Her voice came as a plea. "Solas?"
The look in his eyes was stoic, masked, but when she said his name, emotions broke through. "Please, vhenan," he said, his tone as much a plea as hers.
Confused, Ennaly took a tentative step forward, but Solas took a step back, keeping the distance between them. Surely, she must have misunderstood him. But he responded the same to her next step. But if he was distancing himself now, why did he keep calling her vhenan?
Another step, but Solas did not allow her to hold him again. "I don't understand," she begged. "Is it the Well? Is it my Vallaslin? Did I do something wrong?"
Solas made a move as if he wanted to step forward, but restrained himself from doing so. "No," he pleaded back. "You are..."
Perfect, the voices in her head cooed to her, but the words were out of tune with Solas' current behaviour.
Ennaly felt bare, exposed, without his arms around her. Her hands were still raised with a lingering hope that Solas might close the gap between them, but that hope grew foolish as the seconds passed. Powerless, she let them drop to her side. It wasn't cold yet in early twilight, but an icy wind howled within her. Every step Solas took backwards felt like a dagger in her heart.
"Solas... Don't leave me. Not now. I love you."
He shook his head. "You have a rare and marvellous spirit. In another world –"
"Why not this one?" Ennaly begged, trying one more time, but as she stepped closer, he raised his arms in front of his body, shielding himself from her touch.
"I can't. I am sorry."
He granted her one last lingering look. Regret burned on his face, but Ennaly didn't understand it. He didn't make sense. If he didn't want this, then why was he doing it?
In a last desperate attempt, she wanted to whisper that they could do anything if they were just together.
But she couldn't find the breath to speak. Instead, Solas turned around, leaving her with nothing more than the magical disturbance in the Veil as he Fade-stepped away through the waterfall. She stood there alone in the darkening garden that carried a beauty she did not feel, the place that once had been a comfort throughout the chaos of everything that was happening.
She lifted her fingers to her face. She could not see it, but the once-proud Vallaslin no longer decorated her cheeks, the lines nothing more than bitter memories and faded purple.