It Takes a Wolf

Chapter 2: Rotunda

Ellenwen made it back to her room, her body at its breaking point of fatigue. She peeled her clothes off and fell face first onto her bed. She rolled onto her back, getting comfortable under the thick warm blankets as her mind went over everything that had just transpired. Words could not explain how happy she was for Varric's return; she missed his guidance and outlandish stories. Fenris on the other hand...she was uncertain. She stared into nothingness as their first encounter played through her mind. She recalled his eyes, how they glowed with such vibrancy yet, still seemed lifeless, empty, and detached. She couldn't help but feel sad for him, she knew that pain all too well and she would wish it upon no one. While thinking of what his sadness could be from her eyelids start to grow heavy as she slowly succumbed to The Fade.

She woke in her subconscious to the feeling of dew kissed grass beneath her feet. Goosebumps rose to the surface of her skin from the cold, damp, and dark surroundings she found herself in. She looked around, straining her eyes to make out the faint light at the far end of the tunnel. She could hear the roar of a waterfall in the distance when suddenly her stomach twisted painfully with a realization. She knew this place. It can't be, she pleaded to herself. As if in a trance her body began moving forward, though her heart begged her to go no further.

Finally, she reached a clearing at the end of the cave and it was as she feared, it was Crestwood meadow, the infamous place that began her emotional destruction. She looked around slowly taking in her surroundings, it was just as she remembered from three years ago; a beautiful place of nature rich with vegetation and a waterfall pouring into a small pool of crystal clear water. On each side of the fall stood two giant hart statues made of stone facing each other, looking up to the endless blue sky. Willow trees surrounding the grove like a wall of protection while fireflies danced, twinkling like luminescent gems. She walked up to the pond bank when a memory flashed in her mind.

"I'm trying to think of a way to show you how much you mean to me. I decided on the truth, those markings, do you know what they mean?"

She shook her head, trying to push the memory from her mind. Solas had brought her here, told her the origin of the vallaslin etched elegantly along her cheekbones. Her people believed the lightly colored tattooed markings honored the Elven gods, however, her people couldn't be further from the truth.

"They're slave markings, given to the slaves by their master to honor the god he worshipped."

She shut her eyes tightly, reliving the painful memory once again. Solas told her he could remove them, allowing her to be free. She declined politely. That may have been what it represented in the time of ancient Arlathan, but now it is more of a representation of coming of age. It's a sacred ritual, a momentous occasion the whole clan celebrated. She wanted to keep it for her family, her heritage. It was right after that he broke her heart.

"I'm sorry, I have distracted you from your duty. It will never happen again."

She clenched her teeth, remembering how she begged him not to leave her, how she pleaded and told him she loved him. She was seething in anger when she suddenly felt a presence.

"Ma Vhenan." He said, barely a whisper.

"Solas!" She gasped, whipping around defensively. There he was, standing not five feet from her in all his Elven glory, his hands resting behind his back, his expression calm.

"I see you are still as observant as always." He said softly, giving her a gentle smile.

"Garas quenathra!? Why are you here?" She hissed.