Bare-Faced Girl
At noon the next day, Ennaly was still in her quarters, laying on her bed and staring up at the golden stars Solas had painted there. The memories of the two nights they spend together before and after the ball in Halamshiral were sharp in her mind. They'd been looking at the embroidered stars on the bed's velvet canopy, and it had been the best place, just being there together in each other's arms.
A sudden knock on the door shook her from her reverie. A servant came upstairs to summon her to the war room and to announce that the advisors, Briala, Shimmers, Charter and some other Elven scouts had just returned from the Arbor Wilds. The girl shot Ennaly a look of compassion before turning around and leaving.
Ennaly rose from the bed. She dressed and found a puffy, red-eyed face staring at her from the reflection in the mirror. She tried to wash it away with cold water, but it didn't quite work. There was nothing much to it but to simply accept that she looked like a wreck. Perhaps she should order some of that Orlesian face-paint, to hide the dark circles under her eyes for days like these.
She twisted her braid in a bun, deliberately choosing a simple wooden hairpin rather than the one she had gotten from Solas. Taking a deep breath to compose herself, she exited the room. The familiar halls of Skyhold felt oddly distant as she made her way to the war room. There, she found the advisors waiting with equally rough expressions on their face, slumped in chairs. Travel through the Eluvians could be hard on Humans.
Josephine rose from her chair. "Inquisitor, I – oh!" She appeared shocked, uncertain, and Ennaly couldn't blame her. It was some small comfort that all three advisors were present here, so she didn't have to endure this trice. "Forgive my surprise… Your face is… I thought those markings were permanent."
Ennaly avoided their eyes. She had little desire to talk about it, but she knew she had to give something. Her voice was still a little hoarse from all the crying during the previous night, and she regretted not asking for tea with honey. "Solas could tell you all about it," she said bitterly.
From the corner of her eye, she could see Cullen and Leliana sharing a look, but she quickly stared at the maps on the table to avoid their gaze. "It is... irrelevant to our current situation," she stated. "I am very glad to see you all in good health."
"And we are glad to be back. Are you sure you are...?" Josephine continued.
She peered up at the others again. Three pairs of concerned and weary eyes stared at her, and certainly they understood her unspoken words. They all knew she'd been together with Solas, and it was clear that was over.
Just a little uncomfortable, she straightened her back and told herself to be strong. "I am fine, I assure you. Let's not linger on it. We have lots to discuss. The very short story on my end is... We have a dragon to tame. We plan to leave tomorrow morning."
"A dragon?" Cullen repeated.
Ennaly forced herself to smile. "What better way to fight Corypheus' dragon than with a dragon of our own?"
"I'd like the full story of this," Leliana said as she poured them all some water from a jug on the table. "Start at the beginning."
Ennaly took the offered glass and wondered how she was going to tell everything that happened, while making it sound believable.
"Remind me why he is here?" Dorian softly chided to Ennaly as they walked the Crossroads.
A few yards to their right walked Solas, his hands clasped behind his back. His eyes reflected the broken and dormant Eluvians he passed, as if he was considering their former destinations.
"Because I'm not stupid," Ennaly muttered under her breath. "His knowledge could be valuable and our fighting is optimised to having him in our midst. I want to tame this dragon, not be devoured by it."
Dorian sighed. "I detest it when you make perfect sense, but I just wish you could have indulged yourself rather than fight by his side. You could have found yourself a cute man, someone not an Elf, have fun for an evening, and drink your sorrows away."
"I'm the Inquisitor," Ennaly emphasised. "I can't just go to the Herald's Rest and find myself the first adequate man. Besides, that's not really my... thing."
"What about Cullen? You used to fancy him."
Now it was her turn to sigh. "Dorian, I appreciate what you're doing as a friend, but I haven't liked Cullen in that way for ages, and I'm pretty sure he doesn't anymore either. Also… doing that to the Inquisition's Commander sounds like the worst idea in the world."
"All I wish is for you to feel better," Dorian said in a dignified tone.
"I know," Ennaly replied with a smile as she patted his arm with friendly affection. He extended it and pulled her against him in a half-hug, almost making her skip a step. She couldn't help a small titter, one that Dorian echoed, but before it could turn to a full laugh…
A voice inside her mind demanded her attention, and she swallowed her laughter to listen.
This one.
She halted, collected herself again away from Dorian's grasp and found herself in front of an Eluvian. The surface had a soft ripple passing over it. Dormant, awaiting activation.
"They say this is the one," she announced, turning around to address the others.
"The voices from the Well said that?" Varric asked, catching up on them. "I still can't believe you've got an Elven Goddess talking to you in your mind."
"It's not Mythal herself," Ennaly replied, facing him. "And you have met Mythal, Varric. You spoke to her on Sundermount."
Varric groaned. "Don't remind me. I still can't believe Hawke was actually rescued by Mythal. Shit. Why can't I ever have normal friends?"
She smiled at the jest in his tone. "Because you're not normal yourself, Master Tethras. You're the common denominator between Hawke and me… aside from Corypheus, I suppose, but let's not count him."
After a deep breath, she lifted her hands up to the Eluvian, listening to the voices of the Well to activate it.
"Cassandra," Varric continued. "Does it add or subtract from Hawke's heroic charm to know he was rescued by Elven divinity? I need an outsider's opinion on this."
"I - I don't know what to think," Cassandra answered reluctantly.
Ennaly smiled as the glass in front of her began to shimmer blue. "I'd be thankful to Mythal, if I were you. Because of her, we have a chance to fight Corypheus. Come, and let's keep our weapons at the ready, we never know what we'll find on the other side. You all first, I'm the key to this thing."
One by one, the others passed her through the Eluvian. Her eyes briefly crossed Solas as he went, the last one besides Bull. He was stoic, keeping a respectful distance from her during their walk. Ennaly swallowed back the lump she felt growing in her throat, waited for Bull to pass before she followed him, and closed the mirror behind her.
They exited at the northern edge of the Arbor Wilds, and if she interpreted the voices correctly, they would reach Mythal's altar by midday tomorrow. This was the closest Eluvian they knew of that was still unbroken.
"Onwards we go, I guess," Ennaly said as she closed her eyes and slowly turned around in a circle. She let the voices whisper to her, like she was the needle in a compass and they were the forces that pointed her north. Coming to a halt, she opened her eyes. "This direction."
"Am I the only one slightly creeped out by this?" Bull grunted as he stepped next to Ennaly, a defensive position for if they ran into trouble.
Several hours passed as they travelled through the lush terrain before pausing to take a midday meal. They had taken provisions from Skyhold, so they didn't need to hunt or gather in this unfamiliar environment.
Ennaly settled herself next to Varric, who started narrating how he once killed a dragon in the Bone Pit mines. Cassandra had her eye on him, too, listening attentively. Varric's stories were always a good distraction, and even while narrating a dragon fight, he didn't fail to make them laugh.
For a moment, Ennaly thought that everything was starting to fall into place again. Being outside Skyhold was a nice change of scenery as the walls were starting to feel like too much of a confinement. If she just focussed on her friends instead of Solas, it would be fine.
"Ar lasa mala revas."
The words were very familiar to her, and for a second she thought it was the Well speaking to her, when she realised she knew this voice.
She turned her head to the side to find Cole and Solas in conversation. The others didn't seem to notice anything weird, but then again, those words meant nothing to them.
"You are so beautiful," Cole said, repeating the words that Solas had spoken to her. "But then you turned away. Why?"
Solas gazed at him, unaware that Ennay was listening in. "I had no choice," he stated quietly.
"She is bare-faced, embarrassed, and she doesn't know," Cole continued. "She thinks it's because of her."
Solas stared down at the half-eaten apple in his hands before he answered. "I already talked to her. You cannot heal this, Cole. Please, let it go."
Cole looked up and met Ennaly's gaze. She didn't say anything, but she knew Compassion could feel what she was thinking. Solas looked up as well, and clearly hadn't realised she was listening in. Their eyes met and neither of them could look away, locked in shared emotions.
Why, if he broke things off, did he appear as affected by this as she was? Did Cole know why?
"He hurts," Cole explained. "An old pain from before, when everything sang the same. You're real, and it means everyone could be real. It changes everything, but it can't. They sleep, masked in a mirror, hiding, hurting, and to wake them -"
Solas broke eye contact with Ennaly to turn his attention back to Cole, just as he gasped. "Where did it go?" Cole asked, confused at something that had happened.
"I apologise, Cole," Solas said quietly. "That is not a pain you can heal."
So, he couldn't even confess to Cole, the one person who always understood him. Solas met her gaze again, but she didn't want to hear anything he might have to say.
The laughter of the others rang in her ears, contradictory to her own feelings. Ennaly shot an angry look to Solas before she rose to her feet. Her eyes crossed Dorian's and he grew concerned, but she shook her head in a silent response. She wanted to be alone for a few moments.
As she wanted to walk to the other side of the clearing, she heard the next words in Solas' and Cole's conversation.
"She appears angry," Cole stated. "But actually, she is hurting."
"I know," Solas whispered as a reply.
"But you are hurting, too. The truth will heal you both."
"Not this time, Cole. I am sorry."
Ennaly halted in front of a tree with one broken branch, still partly attached to the trunk. The leaves were all withered and brown, the wood damp and decaying. She raised her right hand and channelled magic through her body. The purple knot of Vallaslin no longer decorated the space below her breasts, but the removal of her lines hadn't diminished her powers.
She could still feel the warmth passing from her core to her arms, curling and speeding where the lines once had been. The feeling was wonderful and comforting and she revelled in the sensation. After everything that had changed, these powers were still hers to command.
The branch began to emit a soft glow, and with the groaning of wood, it started to lift and knit itself back to the tree, rejuvenated as if freshly sprouted in spring, the leaves green again.
When the groaning of wood subsided, utter silence rang through the clearing.
"Warn us the next time you do that, dear," Dorian said from yards away, a shocked look on his face.
She spun around, having forgotten that the others were there. Six pairs of startled eyes met hers. "Sorry," Ennaly replied ruefully. She hadn't wanted to alarm anyone. "Sometimes I just have the urge to fix broken things."
Immediately, she realised the words were a little too bitter. She didn't want to sow enmity between her friends, not when they still had to work as a team.
"I apologise," she added immediately to no one in particular, feeling ashamed. "Let's continue onwards."
Her phrase earned her a look of compassion from Dorian, but she didn't want it. While the others still scrambled to get their packs ready, she closed her eyes to collect herself, to force herself to calm down and not be affected by words. They had more pressing matters to focus on than silly heartache.
Even so, she avoided the looks of the others as they continued. They had several hours more to walk before nightfall, and Ennaly followed the gentle whispers of the Well to adjust their heading if they threatened to go off course.
If a year ago, someone told her she'd be hearing the voices of dead servants of Mythal in her head, it'd frighten her to no end. But with reality having bestowed it upon her, she found that after the initial shock, it was strangely comforting.
The large canopy of leaves and tall vegetation dimmed the light enough to an almost permanent state of twilight, causing it to appear later than it actually was. But as time passed, evenfall approached rapidly and they had to find a place to rest soon, before darkness would fully obstruct their vision.
All of a sudden, as they passed a stream of quick-running water, Bull lifted his hands to get all of their attention. It was clear he had noticed something and he quietly turned around with a finger on his lips, signaling for silence. In the distance, they heard the breaking of branches.
Beast, or person?
Friend, or foe?
As silently as they could, they grabbed their weapons. Cassandra moved to the front of the group and pushed Ennaly behind her, her shield raised. They nodded to each other to indicate they were ready. Then, at Bull's gesture, they all stepped forward around a tree trunk so wide they wouldn't have been able to surround it even if they all held hands.
They were prepared for anything, expecting trouble, a giant beast, or anything from darkspawn to Red Templars.
But instead, they faced three Dalish Elves, their bows pointed at them, the expression on their faces shocked. For a moment, both groups stared at each other, not expecting to find what they stumbled upon.
Ennaly wasn't sure if she could breathe again, or if the sight of Vallaslin took her breath away, but she did know they had no quarrel with the Dalish. These were just some Elves, clearly as startled by them as they were. She pushed Bull and Cassandra aside. "Aneth ara," she said, the friendly greeting between Dalish.
"You're not a Dalish," the middle Elf replied. The lines of Andruil decorated his face, their original meaning unbeknownst to their wearer.
The words whipped her in her face. She wasn't Dalish? Of course, she no longer carried the lines on her face to mark her as one of them, and whatever part of her Dalish attire wasn't hidden by her dragonhide coat, was obscured in the semi-darkness.
She ignored the intake of breath by her friends behind her, and regarded the Elf with morbid fascination. She knew every curve and point in the brown lines on this man's face. Many of her clan members had worn the same.
And by the grace of something holy, she managed to keep her expression neutral. "Don't let my lack of Vallaslin fool you," she said as speech returned to her, knowing she would appear city-born to them. "I was born Dalish."
"Templars got you?" the Elf asked with a nod to her staff. His accent was another small caress of familiarity.
"Yeah. When I was fifteen." The lie came easy to her. She was glad, because she had no other option than to lie. These Elves wouldn't believe the truth, and would never have the patience to hear her out long enough to explain it all. And in this moment, she could finally understand where Solas' dislike had come from.
To her annoyance, she heard Cassandra behind her take a sharp intake of breath. These Dalish might believe the lie, but all her friends knew the truth. Besides, this wasn't one of the many Human cities they visited. This was Elvish territory, and out of all of them, she knew best how to navigate it.
The Elf to the left cursed, a woman, also carrying Andruil's Vallaslin. "Like our cousin was taken. May the Dread Wolf find those that took her away."
A shiver passed over Ennaly's back at hearing that name and she ensured the Anchor was hidden behind her glove with the metal disk in it. These Elves might have heard of the Dalish Inquisitor, and she didn't want them asking questions about it.
"Same for you?" the third Elf said with a gesture towards Solas.
"No," he replied. "I was never Dalish."
Ennaly's heart skipped a beat as she looked at the third Elf. The same lines that once adorned her face, adorned his face, but in a mossy colour instead of purple. Every curve was familiar to her, they had been with her for so long. Even knowing what they were, it was like seeing an old friend.
The Elf must have seen her gaping at him, and from the smile he gave her, he interpreted her stare as something else. "I am Soran," he said smoothly, flashing her a half-smile.
"Like the Emerald Knight," Ennaly replied without thought. She had been raised with the stories.
Soran's grin widened at those words. "Aren't I dashing?"
She couldn't keep her eyes off him. He was probably a few years younger than she herself was, in his late twenties, with a round, pleasant face in an easy-going expression and a messy mane of shoulder-length auburn hair.
The middle Elf grinned at him. "Save it for another time, would you?" He turned to the group. "You are part of the Inquisition, then? I heard the Inquisitor is Dalish. The First from clan Lavellan. That's something, isn't it?"
Dorian cursed under his breath, probably soft enough so they didn't hear. Ennaly was glad that the Anchor was hidden. She had to come up with something, for the next time they faced Dalish. They might have stumbled upon them while closing a rift. How would they have explained her lack of Vallaslin then?
"Yes," Ennaly replied, just a little meekly. "We mean you no harm."
"Neither do we mean you harm," Soran said. "We were making camp here. We can share. We are sympathetic to the Inquisition's cause."
"Yes, we won't mind some company," the female Elf added. "These men can get on my nerves sometimes."
Ennaly turned around to face her friends. Varric and Dorian shot her silent concerned looks to ask if she was alright to lie about this, and she responded with the smallest of shrugs. It was what it was.
Evening had now fully arrived and it wouldn't be long before a deeper darkness would settle in. It didn't make much sense to continue on and find another spot to camp.
"They just want peace," Cole said in his quiet voice, and if Cole agreed the Elves had no active malice, they would be safe. They had them outnumbered, so even if they did mean harm, there would be no trouble defending themselves.
"Then, be welcome in our camp," the middle Elf spoke. "I am Tarenan. This is Andrale, and as he already said, he is Soran. They are my cousins. Their mother was really deep into the Emerald Knights." Andrale, like Soran, was the name of one of the Emerald Knights.
The three Elves all looked somewhat alike, their hair all in the same auburn colour of varying shade, not too tall, with round, friendly faces. They had started making camp and continued while telling their story. Apparently, the Elves were sent from their clan to scout further south than they would normally go to investigate disturbances they had heard. They were open to sharing the information they had collected in exchange for some of the Inquisition's knowledge, but Ennaly didn't learn anything they didn't already know.
It was refreshing, however, having the company of new faces and new tales to overhear. They shared their food, the rabbits the Dalish had caught and their own provisions from Skyhold, some of which were food the Dalish hadn't eaten before. Ennaly remembered her own first time eating those similar items, but she had grown to like them a lot.
Ennaly preferred to listen rather than talk, but all through the evening, she couldn't keep her eyes off Soran. His face entranced her, the way his Vallaslin moved when he laughed, when he expressed surprise... Her face had done the same, once. All but her noticed her staring, and Soran himself seemed to take great encouragement from it, and often looked at her when he laughed.
After their dinner, Tarenan took a small lute and started to play a plucky tune. It was a familiar Dalish song, and it brought bittersweet memories to Ennaly's ears.
"It has been a while since I heard this one," she noted with reminiscence. It was during the summer solstice, and Solas had been with her.
Soran turned to her again, like he had done so many times during the evening. "Do you still remember how to dance like a Dalish?" he asked. Ennaly was so entranced by his Vallaslin that she almost missed the broad smile on his lips. She blinked, and finally caught on.
He was flirting with her, and it wasn't even subtle. How had she missed it? She realised she had been giving him the wrong signals all evening, and he must have thought she was interested in him.
For a moment, Ennaly just stared at him, unsure what to do. She had just been remembering Solas and the way they danced naked together at the summer solstice, and the morning after, when he removed his shirt from her body. This Elf was his opposite in so many ways.
But this was just a dance, wasn't it? She'd danced with so many people before. Besides... They would never see these Elves again.
"That's not something you really ever forget, is it?" she replied as she conjured a charming smile to her lips.
Satisfied with her answer, Soran he rose to his feet and extended a hand towards her. "Well then, Ennaly, allow me to take you back in time."
Out of all the things he could have said, that is what he had to decide.
Ennaly wasn't sure if she imagined it or not, when for a short moment, she felt a magical flare in the air around her. It was a ripple of annoyance, with the unmistakable touch of Solas' aura.
Surprised, she shot a quick look at the others. Dorian looked up in a way that made her think that he had felt the energy, too. Solas, furthest away, ran a hand over his head and very decidedly did not look around.
Varric looked at her with an expression that told her are you sure? But Dorian smiled cheerfully. "You do love dancing, don't you?"
She briefly checked her hands. The glove with the metal disc still hid the Anchor successfully. Committing, she turned her attention back to Soran and took his hand. "I'd love to," she replied with a charming smile. He wasn't very tall when she stood in front of him, just a bit taller than she was.
To their side, Andrale approached Solas. "Do you dance?" she asked brightly.
He looked up to her. "I am sorry. Not tonight."
Andrale almost appeared a little disappointed as Dorian got to his feet. "I do," he offered her. "You don't mind, do you?" he asked Bull, who shrugged and indeed didn't care. "If you don't mind dancing with a shem. Ennaly thought me," he said as he turned back to Andrale and made a suave bow.
"Sure, if you know how to keep up," she teased back.
The four of them went to the clearing in front of the fire and Soran spun Ennaly around. It was an upbeat, happy tune, and the dancing involved circling around each other, sometimes arms hooked, sometimes hand in hand, sometimes with the four of them, and sometimes just the two. It was fun and Ennaly laughed and forgot about her worries.
After a few dances, Andrale and Dorian stopped, but Ennaly was happy to continue and so was Soran. They talked while dancing, the nonsense conversations about childhood at the Dalish, their favourite foods, happy memories of festivals, or the best places they ever camped. To Ennaly, it felt as If she was narrating someone else's life.
But it was no lie. She really had those memories, no matter how strange or distant.
Soran asked her about the circle, but she deflected that easily. The circles had fallen, she was part of the Inquisition and would much rather discuss the Dalish.
"You're still wearing a glove, but only one," Soran laughed at her as he grabbed her left hand to spin around.
"I've injured my hand," she replied, which she considered a truth. "It's wrapped up with a poultice, and I have to keep it there for a while so it can heal." That, of course, was a lie.
"What happened? Nothing too bad, I hope?"
Ennaly considered that for a moment. Mythal had said she was touched by two Gods. What would Soran say if he knew? Would he be scared, impressed? "A wolf," she decided in the end. "Don't worry about it. This dancing is much more interesting than a mark on my hand."
"Alright," Soran replied and placed his hand on her waist to pull her just a little closer.
Just a dance, Ennaly had told herself, while she very well knew it wasn't. But she accepted being pulled closer and a few steps later, their bodies touched. The next steps, Soran guided them to the other side of the fire, out of sight of anyone else. Ennaly shot a final look at the others.
Solas was no longer among them.
And their dancing in privacy took a different turn. They spun around at a much slower pace, and as the seconds passed, they talked less. Soran's hands travelled up and down her back and without thinking much, she mirrored his moves.
She didn't feel much like herself, anyway. Her mind wondered where Solas was. He was powerful. Certainly, he must be safe.
Breath misted against her neck, pulling her back to the present. "I have never been with a bare-faced girl before," Soran confessed in her ear, his hand at the nape of her neck.
"You haven't?" Ennaly asked in response, but it felt mechanical. She had known his intentions when he guided her to this side of the campfire. And still, she had followed willingly.
From what she had learned in this short time, Soran was a sweet guy. He wasn't at all trying to impress her with boasting like other men she had known, and neither had he acted inappropriately. Their conversation had been natural and funny.
But did she actually want this?
Uncertain of herself, she made the mistake of looking up at his face. Her eyes landed on the Vallaslin that curled on his cheekbones. Intrigued, she lifted her hand to trace a finger over the green lines. She would have been able to do it with her eyes closed.
He gasped at her touch, closed his eyes, and leaned forward a little. His hand travelled over her back to her bottom, and squeezed.
"Are you curious?" she asked with a voice that seemed so unlike her own.
His eyes fluttered open and he flashed her a smile. She echoed it and he grabbed her hand again. Laughing softly, he pulled them away into the shadows of the nearby trees. A little hesitantly, he wrapped his arms around her.
And then she found her lips on his. It was sweet, a little eager, but gentle. She wrapped her own arms around his shoulders, and let one glide up to his neck as their kiss continued. She was surprised to find a thick mane of hair tickling the skin on her hand. Curiously, she played with the tresses at his neck. He quietly moaned against her lips.
She felt... unlike herself. Even if she was aware of the act, was an active participant, she felt as if she was observing it from afar, like a spectator.
And yet she responded when he deepened the kiss, didn't step away when his hands travelled over her breasts.
Don't do it, a part of her mind said to her. She clearly still harboured feelings for Solas and wasn't healed from whatever had happened in the last week.
Do it, the other part said. She could have fun without attachment, just enjoy an evening with a cute guy. How many times had she had seen or heard of Bull spending his nights with people he just met, before he was with Dorian? She had never quite judged him for it. So why should she judge herself?
It was that voice that won.
She broke the kiss to smile widely and untied her belt to pull her tunic over her head. Soran grinned a little bashfully as he let his eyes dance over her figure.
"You still dress Dalish, even after all those years in the circle," he said as he saw her wrapped breasts. Deft fingers pulled at the ends and started to undo the wrappings. This certainly wasn't the first time he did this.
"It is much more comfortable," she said, as she helped him along.
A minute later they lay sprawled on his cloak on the forest ground, both only wearing their breeches. His chest and arms were bare, unmarked, as hers were. His clan clearly didn't partake in the habit of decorating their body with Vallaslin.
Soran was above her, propped up on one arm, one hand on a breast, his lips on hers. It was evident that the situation aroused him, but Ennaly...
Everything felt wrong to her. His tongue, his touch on her skin, even his body on top of her... Nothing enticed her. She was waiting for a surge of magic that never came from hands that weren't quite the right size, missed whispers of vhenan, wanting hot breath in her neck, the scent of cloves instead of something more flowery.
No desire stirred her body.
This was not the man she wanted, and a sudden panic overtook her. A fifth of everything she had told him was a lie. Their meeting was a lie. He was under the impression that she showed interest in him, but it was just his Vallaslin.
He deserved better.
She parted abruptly and found hazel eyes staring at her instead of the grey-and-purple ones that were in her mind.
"Are you alright?" he asked at her sudden panicked look.
"I... yes," Ennaly stated, suddenly feeling confined below him. "But I need to... I'm sorry..."
Soran rolled to the side, a concerned look on his face. "Did I hurt you? Do you want me to do something else?"
"No," she replied quickly as she got to her feet. "You have been very nice to me, So... ran," she added, almost slipping up on the name. "I'm sorry, I don't think I can do more. I just – I need to leave."
"Oh," he said a small, disheartened frown. "Of course. I don't want to make you uncomfortable."
"Thank you," she said while gathering her clothing. She could hardly tell him that she longed for another man who no longer wanted her, that there was nothing wrong with his actions.
She left him on his cloak, turned around and went deeper into the forest, silently cursing to herself. Angrily, she tore away the glove on her hand, the light from the Anchor just bright enough to see by. She remembered that there was a little creek running nearby, and she would welcome nothing more than a soak in cold water to numb her senses. Dressed in nothing but her breeches, her clothes bundled in her hands, she found her way until the clattering of running water entered her ears.
She threw the clothes on the ground, cursed out loud, and pulled down her breeches. The cool night breeze was heavenly on her skin.
By the Gods, what was she thinking? Sure, Soran had been cute, but did she really think he could help her get over her feelings? Her own actions disgusted her.
"Please allow me to take my leave, first."
Ennaly cursed even louder. The voice had appeared out of nowhere. A figment of her imagination, because she was thinking about him?
"I have never heard you using so much choice language," the voice said again, and Ennaly finally spotted Solas, partly hidden between the reeds, the water softly rippling at his almost silent movement. It seemed he, too, had wanted a soak in the cold water and she noticed a pile of his clothing just a few feet away from her.
His eyes were locked on hers and he must have seen the state she was in. "Are you… alright?"
"I – I didn't know you were here," Ennaly replied, ignoring his question, her voice still strange and unlike herself.
"Are you alright?" Solas repeated, this time more urgently. It strangely echoed Soran's words, and a wave of discomfort washed over her.
She averted her eyes. "I am fine, really," she muttered. More lies, but she didn't want him to think that Soran forced anything upon her. "I wouldn't have come here if I knew you were here."
"I can take my leave," Solas offered.
"You can stay," Ennaly blurted out hastily.
"No, I do not want to spoil your fun. You are standing near my clothing, however."
The water splashed as he rose. A few seconds later, his naked figure emerged, tall, slender, broad-shouldered and so familiar to her. Ennaly felt rooted to the spot, unable to move or turn around. They faced each other, both naked, their eyes met.
"My clothing is here," Solas repeated, his voice almost a little strange too, as if he had expected her to move or turn around. He bent down to take his tunic and pull it over his head. It clung around his wet chest and upper legs. Ennaly was still frozen to spot, staring at him as he collected all his clothing.
"I'm sorry." The words escaped her lips without her active thought, feeling silly the moment she said them.
Solas paused and turned to her, his stoic gaze softening as he looked at her. "There is nothing to apologise for."
And perhaps he couldn't help himself. She couldn't blame him, not really, not when she was standing here without moving since the moment she saw him. She was fully naked and saw his eyes glide over her body. Slowly, his gaze relaxed. At the back of her mind, she realised this was the first time he had seen her naked after he had removed her Vallaslin. This was the first time he saw her body without the purple lines.
For a moment, she could see desire flicker in his eyes, the same look he always had before their lovemaking. But at his next blink, it mellowed back to calmness, and he averted his gaze. "The water is quite pleasant. Do enjoy yourself."
He stepped away and seconds later he was hidden behind the trees.
Ennaly didn't know how long she remained standing there, staring at the spot Solas had left. She cursed to herself, silently this time. This little meeting, this little interaction, this one glance, had managed to do more to her than an hour of dancing and kissing had done with Soran. Now, her body was awake with desire. Solas hadn't even needed to touch her.
Resolutely, she collected her clothing from the ground and found her way back to the clearing where she had left Soran. He was still there, on his back. A glimmer in his eyes told her that he was still awake, staring up at the skies.
He hadn't noticed her, and just as she wanted to enter the clearing again, the voices in her mind argued.
She wanted to step forward, drop her clothing, and say to Soran that a little walk around the forest had cleared her mind, that she wanted more, after all. She wouldn't see him after this night anyway. He had clearly wanted her. Was it so bad if she lied to him, if he still got what he wanted?
But it wouldn't just mean lying to him. It would be lying to herself. She would do better to turn around and leave, go back to the creek and let the cold water wash away her turmoil.
Or… Did she care if she lied to herself? She might get what she wanted, too. Soran was right there.
Was she really that foolish?
After a few deep, staggered breaths, Ennaly made up her mind and took a step.