Fear
Darkness was thick and suffocating as Ennaly slowly drifted back to consciousness. The first thing she noticed was a dull throbbing at the side of her head. Had something hit her? Awareness trickled back to her, flooding into that empty darkness.
Her throat was parched, each breath a painful rasp. Instinctively, she tried to touch the pounding spot at her temple, but found that she couldn't move. Pain bit at her ankles, where ropes dug into her skin. The same pain dug into her chest and right wrist, but her left… she realised that her left arm ended at her elbow with no more sensation below it than lingering phantom pain. The familiar pressure of her bracelet was gone.
Her lips parted, but nothing more than a groan escaped.
"The Wolf's bitch awakes," a smooth female voice cut through the haze.
Ennaly's eyes fluttered open, but it was sluggish, as if molasses had glued her lids together. Her left eye wouldn't open more than halfway.
Light from a crystal chandelier illuminated what appeared to be a lavish dining room with lurid pink wall coverings. Two figures dressed in extravagant clothing stared her down, a man and a woman.
"So, she captured the eye of a so-called God?" the woman mused. "She's nothing special, but I suppose she does have a different look about her than our Elves. I haven't seen eyes her colour before, have you?"
The man leaned in closer, but recoiled in apprehension. "Aren't wildlings supposed to have lines on their face? Are you sure that this is her?"
The woman scoffed. "Think, Calvus darling. How many Elves wear white dragonhide coats and miss a left arm? I confiscated all her belongings. She is the Inquisitor."
Calvus tore his eyes off Ennaly and faced the woman. "Kaffas, Vesta. You're going to get us killed. Someone is bound to figure out we have her captive." He shook his head in frustration and walked towards one of the beautifully carved chairs. Gems on his coat shimmered in the candlelight as he dropped down, brushing his shoulder-length hair out of his collar.
Smiling, Vesta approached him and kissed his stubbled cheek. "Darling… That is exactly what I want. She is supposed to be the Wolf's lover. Don't you think he'd come to rescue his darling?" Crooning, she trailed her fingers down his chest as she sat in his lap. "Wouldn't you come to rescue me? I would come for you."
Ennaly's mind was still trying to catch up with what she was witnessing. From her lavish surroundings and the black hair and tanned skin of the pair, she assumed them rich Tevinters. And rich Tevinters likely meant mages.
She tried to move her body again, but it ached as the binds cut into her skin. She was left wearing nothing more than her shift, and all her jewellery was taken away. An unfamiliar sensation pressed against her neck. A metal collar?
How had they managed to capture her? After bidding Varric goodbye, she had travelled onwards to Tevinter with a small group of trusted agents. She remembered crossing the Silent Plains in Nevarra, and the border to Tevinter, a few days of journeying north, and then… Nothing.
Why had they captured her? With the dull ache in her temples, she had a hard time analysing the situation. These people were talking about Solas and called her his lover. So… They held her capture to lure him into rescuing her?
The dull ache faded to the background as she contemplated on the realisation. Certainly, their idea was foolish. Foolish to assume that he'd risk coming here. Foolish to assume they'd survive if he did. Foolish to assume the Inquisition wouldn't come to her aid.
Vesta extracted herself from Calvus' lap after kissing him, but he shook his head. "I understand that you want revenge on your sister," he said placatingly. "But Maker's balls, Vesta. Do you truly think the Dread Wolf cares enough about some woman to risk getting caught? Don't romanticise the cruelty of a man who did what he did."
One corner of Vesta's red lip curled. It made the hairs on the back of Ennaly's neck stand. The woman was tall, dressed in a dark red satin gown that complemented her complexion beautifully. The deep neckline plunged to just above her navel, revealing a bosom that appeared unnaturally rounded and full, while the skirts flared from a narrow waist over wide hips. She almost resembled some of the Desire demons that haunted Ennaly's dreams, after they shook away their disguise.
Vesta cocked her head to the side and approached Ennaly in three purposeful strides. Not being able to move, she could do nothing more than watch the woman advance, that half-smile still lingering on her face. She stifled a wince as Vesta sat down on her lap, crushing painfully onto her stiff legs.
The woman was already imposing from a distance, but up close, she was overwhelming. All of Ennaly's senses jolted to high alert. The scent of perfume was cloyingly sweet, something with jasmine and other indiscernible flowers, nearly making her gag. It was more than just her countenance that disturbed Ennaly, but she couldn't quite tell why. It was as if something about Vesta was fundamentally wrong, as if she defied the natural order of how things were supposed to be.
A sliver of fear crept up her spine as Vesta placed a blood-red lacquered nail under Ennaly's chin. "Sweetheart," Vesta crooned in a saccharine tone. "Do you love the Wolf?"
It felt more like a taunt than a question. The implications prickled against her senses and Ennaly kept her lips tightly shut, her eyes locked on Vesta's. They were rimmed in kohl and a very even amber brown, devoid of any lines. There was something unnatural about them, but again, Ennaly wasn't sure what. She had seen eyes like these before.
Cold sweat started to form on Ennaly's back, but she refused to give Vesta the satisfaction of a reaction. Vesta's unsettling eyes narrowed, and Ennaly braced herself for impact as the woman reached out with a flat hand and slapped her straight across her cheek. "Answer me!"
Pain blossomed where the hand struck, the skin burning. She couldn't suppress a silent gasp, but managed to bite back tears. This was just physical pain, and her body was just a shell. She could endure this. What had her Keeper always said?
Focus on your surroundings.
Ennaly forced herself to extend her senses beyond Vesta. The ceiling of the room was made of dark wood, polished to a near-mirror finish. In the centre hung a large crystal chandelier, and Ennaly realised it wasn't lit by candles, but by magic. Strangely enough, there were no windows to this room. The only entrance was a tall wooden door to her left.
It normally calmed her to ground herself in her environment, but now, Ennaly's feeling of unease increased. How could a room have such an effect on her?
Vesta sighed and shifted, her weight causing another jolt of pain, before she rose to her feet. "Maker's breath, you're boring."
Certainly, there must be something Ennaly could do. She might be tired, hurt, parched, and bound, but she refused to admit that she was helpless. Taking a deep breath, she tried to focus on the magic that slumbered within her. Wouldn't it feel good to send lightning into this monster of a woman and silence her smile? Surely, she could cast some magic, even if she was tied up.
But nothing answered her call, no warmth spread through her body. Confused, Ennaly tried again and wiggled her fingers, but it was futile. It felt as if the source of her magic had been cut out of her chest, leaving a gnawing void behind. She tried again, a mind blast to force the woman back. A Fade step that might free her from these binds. Fire to burn the ropes.
Whatever she tried, nothing worked.
What had happened to her? With her magic gone, she was without her greatest source of offence or defence.
And slowly, panic started to build within her.
Vesta's laughter pulled her back into the room. "Oh sweetheart," the woman tutted. "You can't do magic. Feel this?" She leaned closer and scraped a long nail over the metal collar around Ennaly's neck. "Enchanted Veil Quartz. It completely nullifies your ability to call upon your magic. Expensive, very rare… But we have the money."
Ennaly's eyes widened. She had never known something like this existed. Templars had nullified her abilities during combat, but that was different. They could cancel the magic in an ongoing spell, or let the magic die at her fingertips. But this... collar robbed her of the ability to channel anything at all, constant and inescapable.
So, she was without magic. She had only one hand that was as useful as her missing one, and she was tied to a chair in a hostile room with only one exit. She didn't even know how she ended up here, or what had happened to the agents that travelled with her. Were they killed? Did one of them betray her? She found that hard to believe.
Then again, she always believed the best in people.
"Oh, you poor thing," Vesta continued in a purr. "Admitting to yourself that you are helpless is hard, isn't it? Do you realise your place in this world now, knife-ear?" The woman dragged a finger over Ennaly's jaw to her ear, and tugged hard. Ennaly bit back a whimper, but luckily the pull wasn't hard enough to draw blood. "The glory days of your race are long in the past. We rule this current world."
Helpless. Did she really have to admit that she was?
She refused to, and tried everything to call forth any magical effect, but it was futile. Even if she knew that her physical strength was lacking, she tried to struggle against her binds. Ropes dug into her chest and ankles, and all she managed was moving her chair an inch over the wooden floorboards and making the ropes dig deeper into her skin.
She was truly and utterly locked in place. Helpless.
Despite her intent, she couldn't prevent her breath from hitching.
And Vesta saw. Releasing a gleeful laugh, she leaned in to kiss Ennaly's cheek. The touch of Vesta's lips on her skin would have made her gag if she weren't so afraid. "You do have beautiful eyes, sweetheart. So reflective with your fear. Is that what the Wolf liked about you? I wonder how they would suit me."
And before Ennaly could comprehend, Vesta pressed the tip of a sharp nail into Ennaly's cheek. Ennaly winced as the woman dragged her nail across her skin, drawing blood. And to her horror, Vesta twirled her finger, and blood from her wound suspended into the air. At Vesta's command, it levitated towards her eyes and Ennaly couldn't look away as the blood churned around and touched the spotless brown of the woman's eyes. Red spread across the white, but Vesta blinked and shook her head.
When she opened her eyes again, Ennaly stared into her own purple-blue irises, reflected from a foreign face.
The overwhelming sense of magic hit Ennaly, and she finally understood why this place unsettled her. The Veil was thin, weakened by years after years of blood magic. And Vesta had used it for something as prideful as changing her own appearance. How many slaves had bled for her vanity?
Curious, Vesta grabbed a mirror from a pocket and studied her new eyes. "No…" she murmured with dissatisfaction. "It doesn't quite match my skin." And with another flick of a finger, her eyes turned amber again. Smiling, she turned back to Ennaly. "Answer me this time, sweetheart. Do you love the Wolf?"
Ennaly could have kept silent, but the horror of what she had just witnessed broke her resolve. Love was complex and multifaceted. It knew many forms, friendship, familial love, the care for someone else's wellbeing, the passion of bodies intertwining... Love wasn't always nice, and you didn't always have control over it. Sometimes it went against your judgement, tore your heart out of your chest, and bared it to the world.
And certainly, one of those possible definitions effectively conveyed her feelings for Solas.
"Yes," she replied, her voice cracking from dryness.
"Good," Vesta said approvingly. "Now… Does he love you in return?"
And certainly, another one of those definitions must match what Solas felt for her. He wouldn't be there to guard her dreams, otherwise. "Yes," she said again.
The smile spread to both corners of Vesta's mouth as she extracted herself from Ennaly's lap. "Very good. So, the Wolf will come."
"No," Ennaly replied. Solas wouldn't come here. The last time she had seen him in a dream, a few weeks ago, she had yelled at him that she didn't need a hero. He wouldn't risk whatever he was doing to willingly walk into a trap.
Vesta spun around on her heels. "What did you say?"
"He won't come," Ennaly repeated, her voice breaking again. On the table stood a crystal pitcher of water, and she wanted nothing more than a sip to soothe her throat.
A flash of fury spread over Vesta's countenance, and Ennaly anticipated Vasta's slap before it hit. "Lies!" the woman shrieked. Calvus sighed deeply behind her, as if he was used to her outbursts. "You claimed that you love him, and he loves you. If that is true, he will come to rescue you. It isn't love, otherwise."
Well, Ennaly thought. The world wasn't so black and white as Vesta made it out to be, but she supposed she appreciated the woman's conviction of love.
"He doesn't know she's here," Calvus added. "Unless you let it slip and led the entire Inquisition to our doorstep."
Vesta exhaled in annoyance. "Calvus dear, you know I'm smarter than that. I didn't have to tell anyone. The Wolf is powerful," she spat, turning to Ennaly. "Powerful enough that he petrified my sister. She was pregnant. If he had the power to do that, he has the power to know where you are. But only if he truly loves you, as you claim. You might hope it, for your sake. But any Elf that crosses this threshold, dies."
Silence lingered in the air as both Calvus and Ennaly stared at Vesta. Ennaly thought that Vesta was right in Solas having the means to find her, assuming he knew she was missing. And he had agents and spies, hadn't he? They would find out she was missing when she didn't show up at Dorian's when she was supposed to.
She wondered what Vesta's sister had done to invoke Solas' wrath. Several abhorrent deeds entered her mind, possibly involving slaves or the Venatori. She doubted Solas would just kill without having any reason. But for Vesta to claim that any Elf that crossed this threshold, dies?
"Maker above, Vesta, what did you do?" Calvus exclaimed.
That one corner of Vesta's lip curled again. "You worry too much, Calvus. But I will demonstrate," she said as she walked to the door and swung it open. "Taria!" she called out. "We need you."
It wasn't long before a young Elven woman appeared. Ennaly couldn't fully see her from her chair, but the Elf appeared young, not even twenty, with her hair tied back with a blue scarf.
"What can I do for you, Mistress?" Taria asked timidly.
Vesta stepped back into the room. "Come closer, dear," she purred. The slave hesitated, and Vesta's manufactured smile vanished. "Don't disobey me, girl. Come closer."
But Taria hesitated still. "Something doesn't feel right, Mistress."
With a click of her tongue, Vesta approached the girl and grabbed her arm. "You'll answer me, girl," she hissed.
But the girl attempted to step away, and Vesta leashed out to grab her wrist. With a fluid motion, she pulled the girl into the room. Or at least… That seemed to be the intent. The moment that the girl's hand reached the doorway, light flashed a dark red and a scream reverberated into the room and down the hallway behind it, silencing all other sounds.
Ennaly couldn't see clearly what was happening, but she could feel it resonate in her body. Whatever magic warded the doorway ate at the girl's essence and every part of her that Vesta pulled through was consumed. She could hear, or feel, or taste the Veil groan as blood magic tore at it with unnatural force.
Taria's dying scream was enough to curdle any sane person's blood.
In her horror, Ennaly flinched, and her heavy chair moved back several inches, scraping against the hardwood floor. When the light and rippling in the Veil died down, Vesta stood alone near the door, her face lost in the shadow.
Nothing remained of Taria. There was no blood, not even a piece of clothing. The only sign that she had been there at all, were the disturbances in the Veil.
Ennaly was too horrified to scream. Even if she had been able to move, she didn't think she would have been able to.
All that tore through her mind, was the question of what would happen if Solas ever got here. Would he meet the same fate as the girl? Would he open the door and face her a final time, only to realise it meant his own demise? Would she need to listen to his screams, just as she heard Taria's, as magic tore at his essence?
Or was he strong enough to see through the magic and cancel it?
She herself would never be able to. Even if she could free herself from the binds in this chair, she couldn't escape this room. The collar still prevented her from using magic.
Ennaly wasn't the only one who was shocked by Vesta's display of sadism. Calvus's chair had toppled over in his recoil, but he managed to remain standing. "Amata…" was all he managed to utter.
"It is alright, Calvus," Vesta said in her crooning tone as she sauntered towards him. Something dark lingered in her features as she kissed Calvus' lips. "She wasn't a very quick worker anyway. I simply wanted to demonstrate the strength of my wards. You know I am strong, don't you, dear?"
Calvus appeared torn on how to react, but Vesta's caress on his jaw swayed him. "We are hosting a party tomorrow," he murmured against her lips.
Vesta withdrew, flashing her false smile. "I am not going to cancel the party, but I couldn't pass up this opportunity to capture the Inquisitor. Unfortunate timing, I agree…. But the festivities won't extend to this wing."
"Can't we move her to the cellar?" Calvus suggested.
"The wards would interfere with each other," Vesta replied. "I didn't consider that a smart idea. I don't want to mess with whatever your grandmother did there."
Calvus sighed deeply. "The Salicias will arrive early for dinner. Now this room is unfit to host them in private."
"Is it?" Vesta said cleverly. "We can trust the Salicias. They'll find her intriguing and it allows us to impress them. And since we can't have any Elves serving us, we'll send Petras. We know the Salicias love to look at him."
Calvus turned to glance at Ennaly. His grey eyes were of a similar shape and shade as Dorian's. And for a hopeful moment, she thought that perhaps Calvus would call out Vesta's idiocy.
But Calvus wasn't Dorian, and he sighed in resignation. "I do hope you know what you are doing, love. And Maker's sake, this is Vyrantium... At least make her look presentable."
"I'll see to it in the morrow," Vesta agreed.
All her hope faded as the pair prepared to depart. Would they just leave her, locked in this room that was haunted by Taria's death? Her throat was parched, and she saw the jug on the table. In a hopeless attempt at sympathy, she managed to croak out, "Water."
Calvus turned around, locking eyes with her. Again, they reminded her of Dorian, and for a moment she could fool herself that she saw compassion. Ennaly dared to hope that he would help her, when Vesta grabbed his arm. "Her Wolf killed my sister. Leave her."
Vesta shot her a final look. Her eyes burned with hate, but Ennaly understood now that her hatred stemmed from love.
And Calvus' love for Vesta was large enough that he let himself be pulled along.
The door closed behind them almost silently. As Ennaly was left alone, Taria's scream lingered in her ears. Silent sobs and wails pressed against the Veil, but it held firm.
At least Ennaly wasn't alone in her fear, as both demons and spirits loomed close.