Incoming Storm

Power surged through her. She felt her body be aflame. She needed to endure, she needed focus. More. She needed more. With her mind, she pulled on all the unfamiliar sources of power surrounding her. It was a cacophony of melodies, clamouring for attention. Each source felt different, had its own personality, its own story…

They rushed through her body. They had to work together, harmonize, and not go against each other, off-key. They needed a way out of her body, for if they kept swirling around like this, she'd surely burst. She had to channel them through the mark on her hand, outstretched to the rift above, and she had to conduct them, lay her will upon them, focus them into a single beam of power.

And right now, they did not yet want to submit to her. Instead of a single beam, it was a tangled knot of string, no beginning and no end, but writhing in a pain she had to tolerate, had to resist. The chaos was too loud, each of the threads of energy was screaming out in pain.

Or was it she who was screaming?

The voices of the powers were so loud it deafened her, and she couldn't be sure. She was veiled in green light, the energy at a breaking point, but just a little more, she needed more, just in case it wasn't enough…

But if she held on, she'd collapse, and that was something she couldn't permit, not when so much relied on her, when so many people put their faith in her.

Enough.

With all the focus she could muster, she willed them to work together, and finally, they submitted to a beautiful symphony as blinding light surged through the mark. The sensation inside was almost beautiful, a catharsis after the chaos. Ennaly clenched her hand, cutting off the energy building through her. She pulled away, and –

She was kneeling on the destroyed Temple floor, hair plastered to her sweaty face. The green blinding light had faded. Tears ran over her cheeks, hot in their cold environment and salty on her lips.

Disoriented, she looked around. Everybody surrounding her had fallen over, fanned out like she was the centre of an explosion. But she remembered no explosion, only a beautiful symphony. She tilted her gaze upwards. The green swirling folds were still in the sky. Present, but after weeks of a slow expansion, their growth seemed to have finally ceased. It was sealed.

Dimly, she was aware that she should be feeling relief, or even happiness. For a small moment, she had even felt serene as she conducted the power. But the chaos reigning inside her had left behind a void. She felt nothing, no joy, no pain.

"You did it," a familiar voice sounded. Cassandra?

She had done it, indeed.

Cheers erupted around her, people laughed, people cried, but none of it resonated with her. Ennaly felt like a shell. With the power of all the other people no longer flowing through her body, she felt like her own had left her too. People wanted to shake her hand, cheer her, and Ennaly nodded, smiled, and returned the grasped hands, but she felt like a ghost. She heard herself laugh, as if she was a puppet performing for an audience.

The mark on her hand twitched, and a growing feeling of dread replaced whatever sense of self she had lost, with one remaining feeling overtaking the rest.

The terror of an incoming storm.

She didn't know why she felt like this. It was over, and they had succeeded. Then why did it feel like the prelude to something larger?

"That was an impressive act," another familiar voice spoke. It had just a little bit of the same accent she had. Again, she wondered how he had gotten it, for he wasn't Dalish, and she'd never heard non-Dalish Elves speak like that.

"Yes," she heard herself say.

He took her hand and observed the mark. It glowed duller than usual, exhausted, but sparked brightly in an erratic pattern. Grey eyes pierced her, but she barely registered it. "You need rest," Solas said, letting go of her hand.

She didn't respond.

Solas turned around to someone next to them. "See to it that she rests. I need to remain behind to observe the skies. Do everything she asks."

Tan hands took hers as Dorian guided her out of the temple, onwards to the two-hour track back to Haven. These paths were too narrow for horses, this high in the mountains. She walked one step, then the next, like a silent trance, only faintly aware of Dorian's encouragements.

They passed the little clearing with the snowmen in front of Haven's gates, all still standing in the cold, greeting them with eyes made of stone, wood, or pinecones. Ennaly felt like she was one of them, pale, lifeless, and cold. Even Dorian's beautiful halla couldn't bring a smile to her face.

As they passed the gates, the civilians in Haven cheered her on in reverence, and she smiled back, grasping the hands that were reached out to her. The cooks were already busy preparing food for tonight's grand celebration, but Ennaly could only care for one thing: sleep. Dorian guided her to her hut, helped her take off her coat, and put her to bed. She fell asleep instantly.

Hours later, just after sunset, she awoke again, feeling slightly numb, but overall better. Only the rumbling feeling of being famished could have caused her to exit her hut. Instant cheers greeted her from all around. Didn't they understand that she wanted quiet, after chaos surged through her?

She found Dorian, Varric and Bull around a fire in the area where Varric had his tent.

"There she is!" Varric called. "A round of cheers for our Lady Herald!"

Dorian handed her a goblet of ale and a bowl of food. She never liked the flavour of ale, but now, it didn't matter. The roast pork must have been succulent and sweet, but it tasted like nothing to her. Even if she laughed and conversed with her friends, the people of Haven, and their little collected force, she longed for solitude.

"We got you a little something," Varric said, pulling her aside with Dorian next to him. "Seeker and Chuckles joined in too, but they haven't returned yet from the temple, and Tiny, but I don't think we'll see him again tonight. They won't mind."

Ennaly looked up to realise that Bull was no longer among them. He had likely retreated back to his tent with whoever took his fancy.

Varric presented a small parcel wrapped in a handkerchief and Ennaly took it. She unwrapped the cloth and found a hairpin, carved from jade. The top was fashioned like a flower, the petals fanning out in a spiral pattern, almost like the Breach. Surprised, she looked up to the faces of her friends.

"The colour of the Breach," Dorian explained. "And the mark on your hand. Whatever happens next, after we've closed the remaining rifts... Something to remember this all, and us. We know how much you like your trinkets, and we knew you would succeed today."

A lump grew in her throat. Through watery eyes, she regarded them both, Dorian and Varric, the two she truly considered friends, before she hugged them. "Thank you," she managed to say, overcome by emotion.

"Come on, wear it!" Dorian encouraged, but as she took out the wooden one, she felt her strength leaving her. Seeing it, Dorian offered to do her hair for her. Accepting his help, she closed her eyes as he grabbed a small comb from a pocket and worked on her hair.

"Beautiful!" he complimented as he was finished, and Varric enthusiastically agreed. He'd left the bottom loose and braided the top into a bun that held the pin. At the moment, Ennaly couldn't care what she looked like, but was glad that her friends liked it.

Half an hour later, she declared she wanted to rest and assured them that she would be fine. Not desiring the walk through a large crowd, she decided to go the long way round and continued onto the path leading to the apothecary. Halfway there, she came to a halt.

It was dark here in the absence of fires. There was no escaping the noise of the nearby merriment, but it was quiet enough. The pressing atmosphere oddly mimicked the feeling Ennaly had inside. Looking up at the skies, she realised it was likely going to snow soon. She had left her warm coat in her hut, for she hadn't needed it near the fires. Her Elven blood made her less to environmental cold, but here, the cold was more than she could resist.

She let it in. The cold was numbing.

She closed her eyes. Clearly, they had been successful in some way, this evening. But what was going to happen next? They would need time to close the lingering rifts, and she was the only person who could do it. But after that... Would she return to her clan, and eventually take over as Keeper? Would she be able to tune back in to that secluded life, after all that had happened? She'd said so to Solas. No matter what happened, these events had changed her.

Suddenly, searing pain shot through the mark. Gasping, she countered it by digging her nails into her palm. It had been uneasy ever since she sealed the Breach. Would she need to get used to this, now?

A snowflake began to fall. One, at first, then more followed, the flakes large but falling slowly. The uncomfortable feeling in Ennaly dulled away to serenity.

She had been such a joyous child, once upon a time, always laughing and dancing and getting excited by the little things. Snow like this used to be bliss. She used to play around in it, used it to learn to control her magic. She'd spin around, guiding the snowflakes to not fall down on her. As her magical prowess grew, she spun around faster and tried to guide the snow around her to fall in a pattern of her choosing. But as she grew older and her responsibilities grew, the joy was pushed away by duty, and she never did it again.

Why should it, though?

It had been wonderful to dance in the forest. And glancing around, there was nobody to be seen here, either. She didn't have her staff, but for simple magic like this, she didn't need anything. Focus on your surroundings, her Keeper always said.

Carefully, she moved her fingers, her wrists, and with each twist, she pulled energy from beyond the Veil, pushing the snowflakes in her desired direction, away from her. Enjoying the effect, she moved her feet next, carefully, left-forwards-right-spin, while guiding the snow around her.

She closed her eyes. She was no longer a child, and could do this on mere intuition now. Guided by the falling snow, she danced around, moving her arms and hand gracefully. Even if she couldn't see, she was aware of all the snowflakes falling around her, and all were under her control. They were hers to guide, and she did, commanding them with each twist of her fingers.

Soft laughter escaped her. She could still enjoy herself like this, being swept away by the little things. She just had to allow herself these moments.

All of a sudden, she stopped, feeling like she was being watched.

"Solas," she said, her shallow breath misting into the cold sky. Solas stood to the right of the little area, regarding her silently. Ennaly felt her ears turn red.

"Herald," he said as a greeting. "I just returned and can confirm the Breach is sealed. I see you are enjoying the snow." This was the path to his hut, after all. It was no surprise someone would pass by and see her.

Self-conscious now, Ennaly looked around herself. As a child, she'd created patterns of flowers and swirls around her. Right now, the snow lay in a twisted spiral similar to the Breach, but she hadn't been aware of it. Unconsciously, she had made herself the centre of the hurricane.

"Yes," she stated softly, embarrassed. "It was just something I used to do when I was young."

Solas smiled with curious admiration. "It is as you said. Magic can be so beautiful. It is good to see you are enjoying yourself." He looked in the direction of the sound of the merriment. "Though... should you not be out there, celebrating with them? It is your victory they are enjoying."

"Don't be silly, it's not just my victory," Ennaly dismissed. "Might have been my hand, but without the alliance, I wouldn't have accomplished this. Anyway, I've had enough of all those people wanting my attention. I just wanted to be alone for a bit."

"I can take my leave," Solas said, already turning.

"Don't go," Ennaly called out, taking a step forward and breaking the pattern in the snow.

Solas stopped. She didn't know why she didn't want him gone. Something in him eased her tension, and she didn't want to think that she didn't value him. He had helped her with everything, after all. Without him, she would have failed.

"I want to thank you," she said, remembering the hairpin. She moved her hair to show him and was suddenly very aware it was styled differently than normal. "Dorian did this," she confessed.

Solas smiled softly. "The pin was his idea. Though I did not know he would style it in such a… Tevinter fashion."

"Oh," Ennaly said, unaware of how she actually looked. Self-conscious, she tapped at her hair, feeling an interlock of braids. Wanting to restyle it, she grabbed the pin, but stopped as Solas interrupted her.

"Do not worry," he said. "It suits you. Though they used to style it rather differently, the ancient Elves often decorated their hair with braids."

She didn't need to ask how he knew, for she knew he would reply with the Fade. But as she looked at him, a sudden realisation struck her. The magic in her hand wasn't stable. The current sparks told as such. Solas had ensured it hadn't killed her when she was still a prisoner and he had helped her calm it down on their way from Redcliffe to Haven.

But... They were nearly done now. The mark has almost served its purpose. After the lingering rifts were closed they would go their separate ways... would the magic simply fade? Would it grow? Would she be dependent on him for her continued survival? He'd never live with the Dalish, and she doubted he'd want a companion on his quiet journeys. Would they meet up every year so he could help her?

That almost sounded thrilling.

She wouldn't allow her mind to go there. As she averted her eyes, a sharp pain stung her hand. It was short and manageable, but it grew that uneasy sense of foreboding in her stomach.

Solas took a step closer to her. "Are you alright, Ennaly?"

He didn't use her name often, nobody did. It comforted her. "It's the mark," she said through gritted teeth, as another ache surged in her hand. She held it up and in the darkness, it was the brightest source of illumination. It turned Solas' eyes bright green as he observed it. "It seems to feel... Uneasy somehow," she continued. "I guess because of all the power that surged through it?"

"That is a possibility," he contemplated and took her hand to better inspect it. His were warm, as always. "You are cold," he noted. Ennaly ignored it.

Then, with a cry of pain, she doubled over and pulled her hand away. In a swift move, Solas grabbed her to keep her from falling down. The mark crackled with energy, flickering brightly, and hurt like piercing daggers, before it dimmed down.

"Why is it doing this?" Ennaly gasped, looking up at Solas' concerned face. "The Breach should be sealed. I hoped this would all be over."

Solas appeared serious, almost alarmed. Suddenly, he looked up, as something in the distance grasped his attention. In a reflex, he pulled her closer against him with the hand that was supporting her. Ennaly, being quite a bit shorter than Solas, couldn't see quite past his chest and had no idea of what was going on as he stared into the distance.

Behind them, the Chantry bell started to toll. The chiming rang loud in the air, not happy, but alarmed, like a warning. The music from the nearby party stalled as panic erupted further ahead. Shouts and cries pierced the air. Solas seemed only partially aware of Ennaly's presence, yet tightened his grip on her. Protective, or... possessive? It made a shiver run down her spine, but she wasn't sure if it was a good one.

"Solas, what...?" she asked, confused by everything that was going on. Being pressed so close to Solas, made her nervous.

Aware of her presence again, he released his grip almost as if he had burned his hands by touching her. "My… apologies," he said. "There, in the distance." He pointed in the direction he was looking. Ennaly followed his finger, but she had to stand on the tips of her toes and lean against Solas' shoulder to see.

In the mountainous forests ahead, shone a hundred little pinpricks of light. A procession of torches was approaching, marching to Haven.

An incoming storm.

Hurried footsteps approached them. Running towards them were Cullen and Cassandra, both looking serious and concerned.

"Forces approaching! To arms!" Cullen called around, agitated. "Solas, let's gather at the gates," he said, clearly not having spotted Ennaly, who was mostly hidden behind Solas. She shifted, and light fell on her. "And – Herald."

Only now did he spot her and for a moment, his eyes darted from her to Solas. They were standing close together, closer than a normal conversation, even if his arm was no longer wrapped around her. His eyes lingered on the pair, for just a second, but she noticed it. A slight frown of surprise crossed over his face.

Ennaly cursed internally. Ever since the catastrophe at the conclave, everything in her life was doomed to be misinterpreted by the observer. And in this case, it must have looked like she and Solas were embracing in a dark corner, sharing an intimate moment.

"My – my gear," she stammered, realising she didn't have her staff nor her protective outfit. Solas stepped aside, and suddenly Ennaly felt bare, exposed, without his taller form at her side. His hut was in one direction while her own was in the other.

"We shall meet at the gates," Solas said solemnly. They parted, but while they both went their respective ways, their hands reached out, almost involuntarily, as if they didn't want to leave. Their fingertips touched, they shared a last glance, and then they were away.

Ennaly followed Cassandra as Cullen continued on, informing others who might still be unaware of the recent event.

Chaos had erupted all around. Civilians fled to the Chantry, abandoning their bonfires. A lone child was crying, before it got swept up by its parent. An armoured figure kissed another figure in simple clothing goodbye. Friends hugged each other.

"So, Solas, huh?" Cassandra said while they made their way towards Ennaly's hut. Her tone of voice indicated that she assumed what Ennaly was afraid of. Another misinterpretation.

"No," she replied, annoyed and a little embarrassed. "We were talking and then we were startled, and..." She realised that nothing she could say would change Cassandra's perception of the event. For all effects and purposes, they had been embracing in a dark corner, for a moment.

The warrior made a small snort of disbelief. "One word of advice: don't toy with our Commander's mind," she added. "Don't give him hope if there is none."

Ennaly's mind couldn't fully grasp the situation they were in. Naturally, Cassandra had heard Bull's and Dorian's comment earlier this week, when they arrived in Haven. It was too absurd that here, while they were – what, under attack? – she was given love advice by Cassandra. "I didn't - I would never," she managed to say.

It was unfair. Cullen and she had never said anything to each other regarding interests. She and Solas had never said anything to each other, either. For all she knew, none of them even liked her in any romantic way. She wasn't even certain about anything herself.

"Good," Cassandra answered. "That's all I wanted to say. He has enough on his mind right now."

"We all have, if we can't counter whatever's coming," Ennaly shot back, while the Seeker helped her with the battle gear.

"To the gates," Cassandra said resolutely, when they were done.

Ennaly nodded. They had to stop whatever was coming for them.