Solas

Ennaly almost stumbled as she emerged on the other side of the Eluvian. Surprised by a surge of magic, she turned around to see that the mirror's shimmering surface grew dull. Had it been deactivated? Confused, she touched her hand against the pane. No ripples formed at her touch. It was reduced to nothing more than cold glass, the dormant magic a faint tickle under her palm. That meant... Her friends wouldn't be able to get through.

She was all alone.

And time was running out. She cried as the sparks of the Anchor licked around her shoulder, crawling upwards to her neck. What would happen if they reached her heart? In the desperation she felt, there was no room for panic. If she was alone, she would still fight until her end.

She spun around, only to find herself face-to-face with a towering Qunari, his weapon raised. She gasped, breath caught in her throat, and raised her staff in a feeble attempt to cast a hasty barrier around herself.

Nothing came. In her exhaustion, her magic was depleted. She braced for slashing impact, when she noticed it wasn't grey skin, but grey stone, staring down at her.

Slowly, she exhaled. Her eyes drifted away from this statue to see that it wasn't the only one of its kind. There were... dozens here. She was surrounded by frozen threat, no longer a danger to her.

Where was she? The surroundings were still similar to the previous place, the sun still in the same place in the skies. That likely meant her friends weren't far away. Perhaps they would find a different way towards her? And if not… Well, at least none of them had to witness her death.

Something caught her eye in the distance over a small hill and she took a few careful steps to see the tip of a massive Eluvian, taller than any she had seen before, shimmering bright white and silver. Was that where she needed to go?

Using her staff for support, she began to walk, when strange words spoken by a familiar voice made her halt again.

"Ebasit kata. Itwa-ost."

Her rapidly beating heart skipped with relief and she dropped her staff. Unable to cast any more spells, she didn't bother to grab it for support. Strengthened by the hope of hearing this voice, she continued, almost tripping in her haste and pain, desiring nothing more than to see the one person she had desperately wanted to see. The path onwards was overgrown, barely distinct, but stairs led upwards, and Ennaly ascended with ragged breath. The steps, turned irregular by ages of use and ages of erosion, were warm under her feet in the late afternoon sun.

"Maraas kata!" It was the Qunari's woman voice.

Ennaly barely realised the beauty of this place, the overgrown ruins, the verdant surroundings, shimmering waterfall, and the mountains around her, as the only thought on her mind was to get closer.

"Your forces have failed," the voice said, calm yet demanding. "Leave now, and tell the Qunari to trouble me no further."

She saw the Qunari first, raising her spear in attack, before she saw Solas. He was here in the flesh, a real body and not one conjured by dreams. But he was turning his back to the woman as she readied herself to throw her weapon, and Ennaly wanted to call out for him to be careful, to turn around before the spear would pierce him, but there was no need.

With a ripple of energy, the woman turned to stone, joining the graveyard of Qunari statues scattered throughout this place. Had he done it with a simple thought? He hadn't even turned around.

"Solas?"

His name escaped her lips without thinking, relieved as she was. His back still to her, his form was a beautiful silhouette outlined by the shimmering Eluvian behind him.

Some power still clung to him as he turned around, a remnant of the spell he had just cast. It was fitting that he stood before her like this, dressed in gilded armour like a warrior of the ancient days, a wolf pelt over his shoulder, now that she knew his true identity. She remembered the first time she had seen him wearing something other than his humble clothing, in the dream where she realised that she loved him.

But even if his attire was different than she had ever seen, his face remained unchanged. His grey eyes, the faint freckles on his nose, his scar, the angle of his jaw. How often had she traced it? Even his sorrow was familiar to her.

The idea was so very strange that she had once considered him a God.

He took a step towards her, his armour reflecting the sunlight. His movement caused another ripple of energy and Ennaly couldn't suppress a gasp. Upon seeing her reaction, he paused, and the magical tension in the air fell away. Silently, he gazed at her.

"You know the truth," he said after a moment, able to read the look in her eyes.

She felt insignificant after his display of power. "I do," she managed to say, but her response came out more like a plea. She wanted to understand, she needed to know. How could the man that was once her lover, also be someone she once regarded as a God?

Ennaly had almost forgotten about the Anchor, her pain overshadowed by relief and shock, when a sudden surge of blazing pain reminded her of the truth that she might very well be dying. Overtaken by power pulsing from her hand into her body like liquid fire, she couldn't help but cry out.

Panting, she found herself on her knees, clutching her arm. Solas slowly approached her, his sorrow replaced by worry. With his hands still held behind his back, he cast a spell. It only took him a small movement of his head, and his eyes lit up with energy, similar to the magical surface of the Eluvian behind him. With her next breath, her pain dulled to a barely noticeable ache. The sensation of his magic was familiar, but altered slightly, as if the magic had been effortless. No glow of light, and barely a shimmer in the Veil. He hadn't even needed to touch her.

"That should give us more time," he said. A smile appeared on his lips, but it slipped away before it fully formed. Was he glad to see her? Or some relief, perhaps, that he no longer had to hide?

He was close, his arms relaxed to his side, and his hands gloved. If he took just one step nearer, he could have offered her a hand to help her rise. From the faint frown on his brow, Ennaly could see that he was considering it. Once, this would have been a touch so simple they wouldn't have thought twice about it, even before their lips had met for the first time. And all the times after… Those hands had caressed her, trailed lines over her body, savoured the touch of her skin.

But it seemed that those days were over. The Dalish mage and the Dread Wolf. They couldn't be lovers, after all. A mortal and a God. It couldn't be.

Gathering her strength, she scrambled to her feet and gazed up into his eyes. "I… have always wondered how you had so much power over the Anchor," she said, her eyes begging him. "I know now. This is your magic, Fen'Harel."

He didn't flinch at the name, but averted his eyes remorsefully. "Ir abelas, vhenan. I never wanted to add to the burden you already carry."

Vhenan?

She took a small step closer to him. "You could have told me. You could have helped me understand… It would have explained so much. Now, I feel like such a fool. I've called your name so many times. To curse, to beg, to claim..."

She averted her eyes, but not before she saw the sorrow appearing back into his expression. "What would you have me say?" he said with a touch of desperation. "That I was the great adversary in your people's mythology?"

A lump formed in her throat and she gazed back at him. "I loved you, Solas… Were you afraid I would see you in a different light?"

The sun hit the side of his face as he angled it, observing her reaction. "Can you look at me and say that you do not? What is the old Dalish curse? May the Dread Wolf take you?"

Solas always appeared so calm and collected, rarely large in his expressions, but his voice could carry all the emotion his body was reluctant to. Ennaly's eyes misted over and she blinked away tears before they could fall down. "And so he did. I can't blame you, not after all that I said. I was yours since this was branded on my hand, wasn't I?"

But that wasn't quite the case. In the beginning, Solas had tried to keep her at a distance. He had never claimed her. Months had passed before her interest in him grew, and only when he was certain of their mutual affection, did he allow himself to give into it.

"Ennaly," Solas said, his voice laced with some urgency to get his point across, almost wavering. "I hope it was clear... My love was no false pretence. I loved you for you."

She knew that was true, and she looked up with desperate anger in her eyes. "Then why can't you see that my love for you was the same?"

He didn't say anything. The sun shone on his gilded armour, so different from the warm clothing he always used to wear, comfortable and humble in the waking world, elegant and rich in their dreams, but always warm, soft... Now, the armour covered him from neck to toe, metal plating, ring mail and sturdy leather, even his hands and his feet. He carried no weapons or shield, but his armour seemed to shield him from whatever touch Ennaly could want, or whatever touch Ennaly could give.

But she wanted to, so very much. She wanted him to pull her against him and whisper that everything would be alright. But would it? Solas never lied, and she doubted he would ever console her again.

A breeze ran over the hilltop, tugging on the stray hairs that escaped Ennaly's bun. She shook her head, trying to shake them away, but it broke their eye contact. It almost felt like an admission of guilt, and she fluttered her eyes upwards again, angry at herself. His appearance didn't matter. Clothes were just clothes, and his eyes were still the same.

She took a step closer, close enough for a touch he wouldn't give, and gazed back into his eyes. She'd kissed him, held him against her in their dreams, skin against skin, even when she thought he was Fen'Harel's servant. The man she fell in love with was still present here.

"You're still Solas," she said. "I learned so much today, about…" About Fen'Harel, she wanted to say. "About you," she said instead, still trying to imprint the truth into her mind. "You've always told me the Dalish were wrong, but you never quite told the full truth. Not even when I found that translation."

Harellan. Rebel.

In a dream, she had asked Fen'Harel what he was, when he protected her from the demons after he took her Vallaslin away. If I am the God of betrayal, if I am a trickster, would it not be easy for me to lie and say I am not? I cannot vouch for myself.

Ennaly shook her head. That had been Solas who must have witnessed her pouring her heartache out. How had that been for him, trying to console her while he himself must undoubtedly be hurting, too?

"Solas… I know now. The sanctuary, the library… You've helped a lot of people."

He frowned at her words as if he disagreed. "Those stories you saw… They paint me in a more favourable light than I ever deserved."

"Then give me the truth," she begged. "The full truth. No space for misinterpretations."

Solas gazed at her for a few more seconds before he lowered his eyes. They fell on his wolven amulet at her waist and another small smile flashed over his lips. He peered back into her eyes and nodded.

Ennaly followed him as he turned around to overlook the valley. Cradled between the mountains lay a large, ruined fortress, clearly of Elven architecture, bathed in the golden glow of the sun. With the waterfall cascading down behind him, this place was truly breathtaking, and in the absence of any enemies, almost serene.

Solas told his story, about a war between the Evanuris, and how he opposed the would-be Gods. He had freed the slaves from their terrible fate, had offered them sanctuary and free will. But then the Evanuris had gone too far and killed Mythal. She had cared for her people, he claimed, protected them. But in their lust for power, they killed her. It was that act that drove him to his deed to create the Veil and banish them forever.

"So we weren't even completely wrong..." Ennaly whispered, trying to comprehend Solas' words. "The Dread Wolf did lock the other Gods away... They just weren't Gods, and it wasn't out of malice."

"Yes," Solas agreed. "Most stories have a grain of truth in them, and the Dalish are no exceptions."

"I'm so sorry," she said quietly. "That is the way you were remembered. I… can't imagine how that must have been. And I have said some of those things."

She turned away, ashamed of herself. Solas followed her movement and reached out. His gloved hand brushed her arm, but it was just a short touch. "I cannot blame you, vhenan. You never knew the truth."

Ennaly spun around back to him, wishing he had taken her arm and pulled her against him. He was close, just a foot of space between them. "I know now," she stated.

"You do not know everything yet," Solas continued wistfully. "I might have freed the Elven people by creating the Veil, but by doing so, I destroyed their world. There were countless marvels in the world once, like Vir Dirthara, now sundered from the Fade and crumbling. The immortality of the Elves wasn't broken by the arrival of Humans… It was me. The Veil took everything from the Elves, even themselves."

A small cloud passed the sun and cast a momentary shadow over the hilltop, before the rays returned. Solas mirrored the surrounding ruins so well. Sorrowful, beautiful, carrying the scars of unhealed history, with a wish for bygone times. His posture was calm during his story, but that was how he always was. The small tilt of his head, the tone of his voice… It told Ennaly that this was what had been bothering him most.

I will make it right, I promise, he had said that night he clung to her, and finally, she understood why her story had affected him so much. She'd cursed this world for how powerless she often felt, as an Elf and a mage. Now she knew that without Solas' action, she would have been immortal and powerful.

And likely be oppressed by those with even more power. Ennaly looked up to him, and could no longer suppress her desire to touch him, to console him as much as herself. Slowly, she reached out to the wolf fur tied over his shoulder, the only soft item in his otherwise unapproachable attire. Vhenan, he still called her, and he didn't step back as her fingers buried themselves in the warm fur.

"But…" she whispered, leaning into his chest. "If you hadn't acted, everything would have been destroyed by the Evanuris, wouldn't it?"

"It would have," he replied, his breath warm on her forehead.

"Then… Didn't you do the right thing?" She conjured a smile on her lips and gazed upwards. "The Elves might have lost their immortality, but we're not destroyed. We might be… shadows," she added, after swallowing. "But we're still here. Not every one of us is attuned to magic, but some old powers still remain. Not everything is lost, ma'arlath."

He smiled back, a gentle but genuine smile, and he lifted a gloved hand to place on her back. It felt good there, the pressure of his touch, and Ennaly's smile turned genuine as well.

"Not everything is lost," he repeated in agreement, his affection so raw it almost hurt her. "You would have been a wonderful queen, if you had been around, then…" He lifted his other hand, and gloved fingers touched her cheek to tuck a strand of flyaway hair behind her ear. For a moment, they stood there, their heartbeats in tune with each other. The sun made his eyes incredibly light again, so beautiful, magical even without magic. Both of them were smiling, and Ennaly felt that everything would be alright.

But would it?

She remembered Solas' words about her people, and how frustrated she had been that he hadn't thought of the Elves as their people. They'd been cussed at by Humans, denied services, made out for rabbits and knife-ears.

Do not think I am without fear. Sometimes I forget this is not the Fade, and my powers have their limit.

But now, he could petrify someone with a thought. Both of their smiles faded at the same time.

"Solas?" she pleaded, as his expression gained a sorrowful quality that turned dark.

"You must understand," Solas implored urgently. "I awoke in a world where the Veil had blocked most people's conscious connection to the Fade. It was like walking through a world of Tranquil. You have shown me I was wrong… And that does not make what must come next any easier."

You deserve to live in a better world.

"What must come next?" she asked, her voice wavering as she leaned back. To right the wrong, Cole had said. A feeling of unease crept over her.

Solas' breath played with the stray hairs around her face, almost tenderly, but his expression was calm and stoic like only he ever was. "I have hopes to restore what once was. I will save the Elven people, even if it means this world must die."

For a second, the hand on her back increased the pressure. Ennaly leaned back further, her hand still buried in the fur. "Solas?" she asked, not processing what he just confessed. "What are you saying…? I don't understand."

Certainly, she must have misheard him. But more words that he had said years ago entered her mind. I am not talking about small steps. What if there is a big step that can make the world a better place for the Elves? If such an opportunity arises, are we not obliged to seize it, to try?

He had sounded so serious, but she had encouraged him. Not once, but multiple times.

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?

Slowly, she felt like something was breaking between them, as if they had once shared a common viewpoint only to realise that wasn't true at all.

"I will not take joy in this," Solas continued stoically. "I am not Corypheus. But the return of my people means the end of yours."

The words cut like a blade. Ennaly leaned further back, unable to look anywhere but in his eyes. "Solas, no. This word dying cannot be the answer."

A little bit of sorrow entered his voice again. "Not a good answer, no. Sometimes terrible choices are all that remain."

His hand left her back as she stepped away, still unable to look away. "What does that mean, Solas? What will happen to me, to the Elves, to you? And what about the others, Dorian, Varric, Bull...?"

"I will not harm the Elves that remain," he replied, and lowered his voice. "I would never harm you."

A frown appeared on Ennaly's face. "But you would harm my friends?"

"Not with pleasure."

A tear ran over her cheek and she finally averted her eyes. Who was she, a foolish little mortal, to do anything against someone with the powers Solas possessed? Anger, helplessness, desperation. She clenched her fists, took a deep breath, and spun back to him. "Why?" she begged.

"I cannot tell you. This is my fight. I would not have you see what I become."

She unclenched her hand as a second tear ran down her cheek. Angrily, she wiped it away, and stared down. "Then you have told me a lie, Solas. You once said to me that if we both survived Corypheus, you would not withhold everything forever."

Solas took a step closer to her. "This is not the end yet, Ennaly."

"Isn't it?" She looked up again. The world that she once knew, was already destroyed. Her old life, her clan, her future as Keeper of clan Lavellan. With care, she had rebuilt a new life for herself in these last three years, with friends she cared about. And now Solas, her love, wanted to destroy the scraps of that current world, still so small and unstable, and for what? The world he described didn't sound much better than this current one.

"This isn't you, Solas," she begged. "You've always wanted to protect those that cannot protect themselves. But… Now you say you want to harm them?" Ennaly wanted to yell at the sorrow on his face. He had no right to sadness when he was talking about the destruction of her world.

"Believe me when I say my intentions have always been to help and guide… But my people deserve another chance after what my actions have caused. I am no stranger to sacrifices."

And what could she say? That his people weren't worth it, that the past was the past, and the future and the present had some redeeming qualities? Solas must have woken in this world, confused and alone, powerless compared to what he once knew. Over the ages, the name that once inspired hope in his friends and fear in his enemies was twisted into a curse, his purpose twisted into trickery, betrayal, and deceit. What was once his people were now locked up in slums or hidden in forests, shunning him, and disbelieving his stories.

"With what you have stopped today, you have won a few years of relative peace," Solas continued and turned around to face the Eluvian behind him, still shimmering silver.

It was a new dawning realisation for Ennaly. She gasped, hoping she wouldn't cry. "I told you the password to the Eluvians, because I overheard Briala."

Fen'Harel enansal. Dread Wolf's blessing.

He faced her again with a hint of a bitter smile. "I cannot say the words did not surprise me."

She had travelled with Briala and knew her plight. Celene had been her lover, but that was years ago. How much hatred did the Marquise carry for non-Elves? Would she agree with Solas' plans? "Was she yours, then?"

Solas tilted his head to the side, mournful again. "No. One of my… agents had contact with her, but he would not give me the password. He failed twice where you succeeded." He sighed, almost angry with himself. "If it is a consolation, I would have been able to overtake the Eluvians with my own power. Knowing the password merely hastened the process."

Ennaly was still processing his words as they gazed at each other for several heartbeats.

"I – I will stop you," she pledged, confused about her feelings, but resolute on that simple fact.

"I know. Because as much as I want to save my world, I know you will want to save yours."

She couldn't blame him for seeing this world as cursed, and couldn't blame him for wanting to revert it. She had once done the same, after all, when she and Dorian suddenly found themselves a year in the future, and did everything in their power to prevent it ever happening.

While she disagreed with him, she found that some part of her sympathised and understood how he arrived at this point.

"You needed your orb," she stated, and lifted her left hand, where the Anchor was sparking dully. A bright burst arced from it, and she hissed at the searing pain.

"Yes. I would have entered the Fade and torn down the Veil."

The green of the Anchor reflected in his eyes again. Was that why it suited him so well, because it was his own power?

"I have seen what would have happened, Solas. In Redcliffe, I witnessed the world without the Veil. Raw chaos everywhere. It wasn't pretty. Certainly, that cannot be what you want."

"But I would have had the power to restore the world of my time. That was never what Corypheus wanted. There are other ways to accomplish my goal… Without the power of the Anchor."

Another spark arced from the mark, and then another. Ennaly panted as the pain overtook her, and the fear of her death returned. She couldn't die, not when so much relied on her. She knew the truth about Solas now, and she knew him best. If anyone was able to stop him, to convince him, it was her.

"It's getting worse," she said through gritted teeth.

Solas's expression darkened with regret and concern as he stepped closer. "I know, vhenan. And we are running out of time."

Shallow, rapid gasps matched the rhythm of pain coursing through her body. The sparks licked around her neck now, biting fiery flames all over her skin. She couldn't bite back a cry of heartache, unsure if that was because of Solas' confession, or the pain in her body. Unable to support her own weight, she collapsed to her knees.

The pain dulled down as Solas knelt next to her, but it didn't fully disappear. For a moment, Ennaly wasn't sure if she wanted his touch, but less than a second later, she realised she did. No matter what he told her, this was Solas, and he had always been able to console her. He had done that since the first day they met.

He pulled her closer to him on his lap and took her left hand in his gloved one. Gently, he slipped the sylvanwood ring from her finger. "You might want to hold onto this," he said, his voice almost a whisper, as if he could feel Ennaly's pain.

She gazed down at the ring, carved to depict Fen'Harel. Once, it had represented the promise a Keeper makes to protect their clan from the Dread Wolf. When she received this ring, she no longer had a clan, and changed the promise.

But now, knowing what she did… Perhaps she might need to pledge the ring's original promise again. Perhaps they were one and the same.

She tilted her gaze to meet the Dread Wolf's eyes. Surprised, she saw something tender staring back at her. "I am sorry for what I am about to do," he whispered with regret. "The mark will eventually kill you… This is the only chance of saving you."

Overcome by pain and desperation, she wanted to be closer to him. Solas might be holding her near, but it was all leather and cloth and metal, and that wasn't what she needed. She was scared, and wanted more. She lifted her right hand, yearning for the sensation of skin on skin. His face was the only skin he had exposed, and it might be the last touch she would ever get.

Hesitantly, her fingertips grazed his skin, tender and delicate. She wasn't certain if he would let her or would break away. But he didn't. Encouraged, she flattened her hand to cup his jaw. His skin was warm, unchanged from what she remembered. He had always been Fen'Harel, even if she hadn't known. And he had loved her regardless.

That love was still present in the look he gave her, before he closed his eyes and leaned into her touch, a look of conflicted serenity over his face. As her thumb traced over his lips, soft and full of memories, his eyes flared open again. Kisses and hot breath on her neck. Do you want me? Whispered words of love, of consolation. I want you, Ennaly.

He was Solas first, and he was Solas still.

"You don't have to do this," she begged, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "There are other ways of improving this world that don't involve destroying it. There are good people around. Let me prove it to you. Var lath..."

But a wave of pain made her unable to finish her words, uncertain about what she wanted to say anyway. Despite her desperation to keep Solas close, her hand slipped away from his face.

"Vhenan," he simply said. Still close to her, he leaned in to kiss her cheek. A tear must have fallen down, and he kissed it away. His breath was warm on her skin, and she wondered if that was their final touch, when he leaned in again, lips meeting hers.

His eyes are glowing, Ennaly thought curiously. The pain in her body lifted. One hand cradled her neck, and she was hardly aware of the other casting a spell. A new sensation replaced the ache in her hand, but she wasn't sure if it was pain or not. It was either warm or cold, or both at the same time.

Was that even possible?

The spell must be finished, as Solas parted and rose to his feet, looking at her one last time. "I will never forget you," he said as he turned around to face the Eluvian.

Unable to move, Ennaly watched him go, feeling as if a part of her heart left with him. The surface of the mirror shimmered with magic as he stepped through, before it faded into warm glass, reflecting the sun's low rays.

She felt a profound sense of relief as the physical pain was lifted from her body. Only curiously did she notice that there was no sensation to replace it. With detached fascination did she observe that her arm was gone.

No more Anchor. No more pain. No more responsibility.

With a small sigh, she fell to her back. Something tumbled down from her lap and she grasped it in her right hand, her only hand. It was her sylvanwood ring. Resigned, she ran her finger along the grooves that depicted the Dread Wolf's face.

It was a renewed promise. She would protect her world from the Dread Wolf's plan. And that included Solas.

Tall trees and ruined walls loomed around her, casting long shadows in the late sun. It was such a peaceful place, serene with the cascading waterfall and small birds singing their song. In the distance, she imagined she could hear her friends' voices.

She smiled with relief. All emotions and fatigue of this day left her feeling empty, the events having shattered the foundations of her understanding. The past of her people was wrong, misremembered over the generations. Her Gods were never Gods. And if they were, her love was one of them. Her future was changed, threatened by the same man.

And even her body was altered. Her missing limb didn't bother her too much, but she did lament that with the loss of her Anchor, Solas' visits to her dream would be nothing more than faded memories.

A tear rolled over her cheek as she closed her eyes, waiting for her friends to find her.

Purposeful steps echoed through the room as Ennaly used magic to hold the book afloat, the writ from Divine Justinia authorising the formation of the Inquisition. Perhaps she shouldn't, but damned be if anyone felt attacked by her display of magic. The mages had more than proved their restrain.

She was dressed in her Elven gown, proud of her identity. The silk flowed softly behind her, an odd contrast to the anger in her eyes. With fire in her gaze, she observed the gathered nobles. Leliana, in the centre of the dais, nodded towards her. Josephine smiled and stepped aside to give her centre stage. Once more, she spun around, deliberately casting her eyes over the room, lifting the book high as she started to speak. They knew what this book meant.

"The Inquisition was formed with the pledge to close the Breach, find those responsible, and restore order," she started. "It wasn't a formally authorised treaty that saved Ferelden's people. It wasn't careful diplomacy that ended Orlais' inane civil war. It was never about the organisation. It was about people doing what was necessary. Not just those of us who fought with weapons. Everybody helped. Those who kept us fed, those who cared for our horses, those of us who sharpened our swords. We all worked together because it was the right thing to do."

Shocked expressions stared at her as she released the spell that kept the book afloat. Most winced as it dropped with a loud bang on the cold marble floor. The indignant gasps gave her a wicked sense of satisfaction. Cassandra granted her an encouraging nod before she faced Teagan and Cyril. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a world to save. Again. Effective immediately, the Inquisition is disbanded."

And without another care about what the nobles might say, she turned around on her bare heels, and left the room with a swish of her skirts. They would go to Skyhold one last time, but they wouldn't stay there. They knew the Inquisition was infiltrated. They would find new places to stay, find new people that Solas didn't know.

They had fallen in love when wisdom died, once upon a dream. The Dread Wolf and the Dalish mage, a perfect contrast, surprised to find each other near the pond surrounded by wildflowers, this place where Wisdom once had dwelled. Her own feelings could hardly be called wise, for which Dalish Elf would ever confess to loving the Dread Wolf?

Solas said he wanted to destroy this world. When they met, three years ago, they had set out to save it. Yet no matter that so much had changed in these years, their love had endured. Now if only it could prove to be enough.

Ennaly was gathered in a room almost too small for the people she was with, but they had to make do without Skyhold now. This chase gave her a new purpose, and for the time being, she was full of resolve and hope. Inadvertently, she smiled and looked over everyone in the room. This was her new world, the friends she loved, and the clan she vowed to protect. Dorian and Bull stood close together, hands grasped. Varric and Cassandra were to the side, with Cole visible behind them, perched in a corner of the room. And the others were there too, Cullen and Josephine, Leliana and Charter.

"When I first met Briala, she knew about Solas and me, just by the way that we looked at each other. She said: the one in power, and the one next to them. And it turns out that the one in power is him, and not me. And it is him planning to do something for his perceived greater good that goes against everything I have cared for."

Dorian shook his head, but before he could voice his displeasure, Ennaly continued. "But I am not powerless, and neither am I alone. We will track him down. We will hunt him. I will whisper in his ear, ideas and suggestions, just as Briala mentioned. I will change his mind, remind him that this world is not fully lost, that there is something left to live for. We will save him from himself."

Her eyes fell on Varric. "Good speech, Wolfsbane," he remarked.

Silently, she shook her head, but a smile lingered on her lips. A week ago, Varric started calling her by this new nickname. He claimed that he liked flower names, especially for Elves, and with the purple colour and symbolism, he declared this was perfect.

She thought it was a little on the nose and not entirely conveying her intent, but she didn't mind.

Varric had written about Ellana and Solith. They had died in each other's arms. If that was what was needed to save her world, Ennaly would do the same.

She knew that her story would likely not be one to end with a happily ever after.