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Chapter Text

She stepped through the tear in the Fade with him, her hand gently on his shoulder in reassurance that they would make this journey together. Her heart raced, thudding heavy in her chest, as the last minutes left her an emotional wreck. He had rejected her, again, turning away from her declaration of hope and love. He had apologised, resolute in his mission, willing to leave her behind still. But then he been freed from her, and he had finally given up the entire fraught plan. Her heart had soared as she seemed to have had arrived just in time. He was a mess, but he was finally hers, by her side where he belonged. 

The brilliant green light flared, and magic danced across her skin as it always did when she stepped between the worlds. Just as suddenly as it flared the light dulled. The magic faded away, and she was left with the soft grey light of the Fade. She had been to the Fade, physically and in dreams, many times of course. Over the last years, since he'd left her, she had seen him in her dreams many times. Just at the reaches of the dream, almost out of view, as if watching her wistfully. But she had always known he was there, and she went to her bed every night with the anticipation of seeing him again. And then he was gone, her dreams were empty once again, the phantom of him missing.

She had learned that he was working toward his plan in earnest then, the ten years of their separation weighing on her but apparently not enough on him.  Her heart was broken again, thinking he had finally considered her too much a distraction. But then, so very recently, he had returned to her dreams. And he stood, closer than ever, almost close enough to touch. She had reached out across the divide, but always he slipped away as the dawn came.

She looked at the barren landscape - great cracking tears in the ground, rocky spires floating untethered, enormous statues of figures in the distance of which she couldn't make out details - and shivered. She had never been to a part of the Fade that looked like this. It was terrifying only in its' emptiness, in the lifeless feeling that permeated the air. They were so alone here, no sound but their gasping breaths. A small part of her remembered that he had created this, manifested into being by his will and his magic. This prison of regret he had sought to keep his enemies in was now their personal purgatory. 

"Ar ghilas vir banal," He had whispered, broken and afraid in front of her. He had put on a brave face in front of Morrigan, Rook and the assembled members of her team. But the two of them alone now, he crumpled. He fell to his knees, the weight of the world crashing down on him. Great, heaving sobs wracked his chest as he cried out in anguish and sorrow. Gently, she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him to her with as much tenderness as she could muster. He was a small, broken thing she handled with such care.

Still on his knees, he threw his arms about her waist fiercely, buried his face in the soft middle of her belly, and sobbed. They stood together for what felt like an eternity, her heart still pounding in her chest, her hands running small circles across his back. She had no words to heal this hurt. He had carried it for millennia, a cornerstone of who he was, an inexplicable part of his being. Instead she just let him cling to her, like she was an anchor in a roiling sea. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she saw her love fall apart, his anguish a black scar on his spirit. 

Eventually his breathing slowed, and he gathered himself together enough to pull away from her embrace. She gently pulled him from his knees until their eyes were level, his posture stooped to meet her gaze. He was taller, she realised, than he was before. Standing nearly a foot higher than her now, still broad in the shoulder like he had been. He took both of her hands in his, his thumbs brushing softly across her skin. His brows drew together, tears still shining in his eyes. When he spoke, his voice was ragged with emotion.

"I should not have let you come here, vhenan.” He whispered. He closed his eyes, as if he could not bare to meet her gaze. “Ir abelas, more sorry than you can ever know. It was selfish, a foolish sentiment I was cruel to entertain. Ellana, please let me-"

"No, my heart," She interrupted, putting a finger to his lips. "This was my choice. I came to Minrathous to be with you at the end, no matter what."

Her tone was firm, determined. She levelled her gaze at him, and then seeing his stricken expression, softened with a sad smile. She held her hand to his cheek, taking a deep breath before she continued.

"I will not become another of your regrets, vhenan." She whispered fiercely, her eyes searching his for understanding. He took her hand and brushed his gently lips across it.

"I do not deserve your forgiveness." He murmured, shaking his head softly. She pulled her hand from his grasp then, frowning. 

"That's not your choice, Solas!" She replied hotly, her temper flaring.

She would not let him do this, not let him fall into this despair with her, not after so long apart. He looked down at her then, his lips parted in surprise, seemingly uncertain of what to say. She continued on, her voice frayed, ten years of hurt bubbling to the surface even as she tried to comfort him.

"For what you did to me - to us- that hurt is mine. Whether I can accept or forgive is only up to me!" 

He flinched at her words, closing his eyes as if her words couldn't hurt him if he didn't see them. She just sighed then. He always had a way of pressing the right buttons with her.

“Your love could burn against me like a bonfire, Solas. And I would eagerly step in if only to feel your spark.”

He looked down at her through his lashes, disbelieving, his brows still drawn together in a look of anguish. She took a deep breath and stepped back to him. Her arms came to circle around him as she buried her face in his chest.

"Ar lath ma, vhenan." She whispered, as she raised her eyes to him. “Bellanaris.”

Then his lips brushed against hers, gentle and searching. So long had she waited for this moment, to be alone in his arms. All the countless days they'd been apart, all her dreams of him so close but just out of reach. Their last embrace bittersweet, as he took her arm and her heart, leaving her a wretched mess.  He wrapped his arms around her, almost enveloping her body completely. He pulled her fiercely to him, crushing her against his chest. He had always been like this, so intense in his need for closeness, seemingly starved for her touch.   

What had started as something gentle began to change as he moved to deepen the kiss, now bruising as he pushed his lips against hers. She felt the touch of his tongue on her lips and eagerly accepted, her heart racing as he explored her mouth. She had missed his touch, his taste, and the safe feeling of his arms around her. She nipped his lower lip between her teeth and he gasped into her mouth, pulling back in shock.

The unexpected sound from him send a pang of longing straight to her core, a noise she had only dreamed of coaxing from him before. Both breathing roughly their eyes met, his intense violet but darkened now with desire. There was a single beat where both didn't dare move, then he groaned,  crushing his lips against hers again hungrily. There was desperation in the way he moved and how he clung to her.  Longing, an all-consuming need for her that burned with an intensity surprising them both. One hand had gathered at her waist to pull her to him, the other found its way into her hair at the base of her neck. His nose crushed against hers, his tongue against hers, chest to chest. He clung to her, terrified and adrift, lost in the warm softness of her lips.

Suddenly breathless, he broke the kiss. He staggered from her, falling to one knee. Panicking she reached for him to see him breathing hard and clutching his chest. She hadn't noticed, hidden in the gleaming golden chest plate, a great tearing laceration. It bled now, leaving a long streak of his blood on his armour. His breath still came in ragged gasps, his eyes still wide with desire now mingled with shock. She put her hands over his chest, tracing the wound carefully.

"Vhenan, why didn't you say anything?" She asked, gently chastising. 

His hand came to lie over hers, large and warm. Her heart was pounding in her chest now, in concern for him. 

"It is of no consequence, my heart. Just a minor-" 

"Oh, stop it" She interrupted softly, shaking her head. "We need to deal with this, quickly. You've been touched by Blight and we need to take care of that, too."

She was almost glad to have an immediate problem to solve, slipping back into her practical persona. She looked around again at their surroundings once more, frowning.

"We need somewhere to work here, somewhere comfortable with supplies and..." She trailed off, thinking of the comforts she would like to share with him, pulling her lower lip between her teeth. She let out a heavy breath, trying to focus on the task at hand, thinking of somewhere she could manifest that would suit their needs. 

Her first thought was of Skyhold – her quarters were spacious, and she knew it well enough to recall in perfect detail. But then she thought of the memories it held, that evening with him on her balcony. She had been surprised and delighted to have him join her there. Her private rooms had been a line he hadn't crossed. In fact he had never sought her out before then, she always felt like she was chasing him. An almost unrequited infatuation. It had been months since she had kissed him in the Fade, when he had pulled away and she wanted the earth to swallow her in embarrassment. But then he returned her kiss with such excitement, pulling her back again and again. She was so sure he wanted her, that his heart beat faster for her. They had spoken after, he had teased her, asking if she'd slept well. Her ears had burned, and she thought she might have seen a blush on his.  But he was silent then, back to the rotunda, happy to answer all her questions but never taking things further than friendly affection.

But he was there, on her balcony. Wanting to discuss her upbringing, her life, her spirit.  His questions had been pointed - he'd needed to know the answer like it was some great cosmic truth. In hindsight, she now knew he almost gave himself away in myriad ways. She again had pushed him, almost begging for his touch, pleading with him to stay with her. In the end their lips met again, deeper and more passionately than the first. It was different than in the Fade, more tangible, and they were wrapped in each other with no thought of the world. But as would become a pattern with him, he pulled himself away and left her there. Alone again, with just the memory of his words.

"Ar lath ma, vhenan." He had said, his tone suggesting he surprised even himself. 

No, she thought, her quarters at Skyhold would be too painful. Somewhere familiar to them both then, but not somewhere special for them together. Her thoughts turned to the Lighthouse then, the place he hid from her in the Fade, after he took the anchor and left her in pieces.

She'd been marshalling forces in the South, preparing the remaining soldiers against the Blight incursion when she received an urgent missive from Morrigan. She hadn't questioned how the witch had found her, or how she had gotten her courier-bird to her through the mass of assembled darkspawn surrounding her. Morrigan had always been an unusual woman to her. Stranger still, and different after drinking from the Well of Sorrows, but always resourceful. Upon opening the envelop, two pieces of parchment had fallen out. She had taken the first of the two and read Morrigan's missive. It was short and direct, informing her that Fen'Harel's ritual had been disrupted. He had been pulled into the fade and the Evanuris released. She remembered sinking to the floor, weeping great tears of regret, that she hadn't been able to pull him from this course. Her love had not been enough, he had been too determined to put right the wrongs he did to his old world.

That he was trapped now, in a prison of his own making, made her fall to the brink of despair. The evanuris were free. The ancient beings he broke his world to stop, were free roaming the world. All the pain,  loneliness and sacrifice they had both endured, all of it had been for nought. She knew he must be broken trapped alone with only his thoughts. Worse still, she remembered all too well his greatest fear, and her chest hurt for the thought of him. The only thing worse than dying alone would be living for an eternity alone with only your thoughts and regrets.

With shaking hands then, she reached for the second piece of paper. On the top of the fold, Morrigan's neat handwriting inscribed it with 'Found in the Lighthouse - the Caretaker was quite insistent it find its way to the right person'. She unfolded the paper and paused then, her breath catching in her chest. The careful loops of his handwriting was like a balm for her fractured heart. She must have read and reread the letter ten times, the parchment soon wet with her tears. After so many years, to see him speak of his continued love for her steeled something in her heart. There was a feeling in her chest that rose like a bubble, that filled her with a warmth she had long since forgotten. Hope.

It was soon after that was put in touch with Rook. She was a Dalish elf, one of the Veil Jumpers who were sworn to protect the ruins of ancient Arlathan. She had the Vallaslin of Mythal proudly etched across her face, red branches inked above her eyes. Ellana grimaced when she saw it, remembering her own mark she used to wear. How it must have hurt him to see it. The mark he used to have, marking his ownership to Mythal, on her face without knowing the true meaning of it.

Her meeting with Rook in Dock Town was the first time she had openly talked about Solas and the love they'd shared with anyone outside her friends in the Inquisition. Solas was an intensely private person, and the hurt was still so raw despite the time that passed, that she did not share the details of their feelings with anyone easily. Dorian was the only one she had truly confided in, and he had moved on from the Inquisition many years ago. He had returned to Tevinter and they remained as close as they could despite the distance. 

Weeks after their first meeting, Rook invited her to the Lighthouse. They had been successful in killing Ghilan'ain's archdemon though not the blighted Evanuris herself. It had come at great cost, the fortress of Weisshaupt reduced to a Blighted husk and the Grey Wardens in disarray yet again. The hard-won victory forced Rook to look at her team, and to look inward at her own failures and weaknesses. She had reached out to the Inquisitor for something – reassurance perhaps – from a woman thrown into a similar situation well beyond her usual scope. Rook had a youthful naivete and a stubborn wilfulness that reminded her of herself in her younger days, before the anchor and Solas had changed her world. 

Using the Eluvian network, Rook and Bellara had come to collect the inquisitor. Stepping back through the mirror, Ellana found herself in a darkened corridor.

“This Eluvian seems to go everywhere we want it to, though it's pretty finicky. Often places are blocked off until we really need to go there, like it's sentient or something.” Bellara said excitedly. Rook just nodded her head in agreement. 

Ellana nodded too, Morrigan had said something to her, years ago about the nature of Eluvians. Many of them were locked, a one-way system where they could only be accessed from the right side.  There was much they still didn't know about the Elvhenan, most of it lost to history.  They had come to the top of the stairs into an open round room, where rich tapestries adorned the walls in a distinctly Dalish style. She smirked then, knowing this was definitely not Solas's doing.

Rook laughed when she caught the expression. “Oh yeah, this was me. It was all bare except for the frescos. We finally figured out the wolf statuettes after you gave me that first one, turns out they're his regrets. Things he wants to forget like- "

She cut herself off when she caught sight of Ellana's face, brows drawn into a frown. “Well, we know a lot more now. I think you should look at all of them. Take all the time you need. And look around, there's a room right through the music room I haven't been able to get into”. Rook continued, before leaving Ellana to make her own way around. 

Ellana slowly explored the place, lingering by each of the mosaics in turn. She examined all of his regrets, feeling his deep sorrow in her own chest. Seeing how life had changed him, moulded him into something he never wanted to be, never quite in charge of his own destiny. He had been used and betrayed by everyone he had ever known, ever cared for, ever hold close. Until her, when he pushed her away so she couldn't do the same. He had never had someone want him for him, only for what he could do for them. It broke her heart into a thousand pieces, thinking of her lost love and his hardened heart. 

His music room was a catharsis then, as she saw the Inquisition frescoes, the keepsakes littered around and the place where he had worked at the piano. She had never heard him play, but could imagine his fingers tracing the keys, his soft voice lifted in song. She spent an age in there, tracing her fingers along the piano, looking for hidden meaning in the frescoes. Both disappointed and gloriously joyful that she wasn't one of his forgotten regrets, painted on the wall for all to see. Eventually she became aware of two wisps trailing behind her. She was sure they hasn't been there when she entered, but they followed her now, seemingly wanting something from her.

“Hello friends” she said softly. “Who are you, then?”

They didn't speak of course, but she got waves of feeling from them both. Compassion, and Hope. She felt like they had been waiting for her, loitering nearby for the correct person to approach. A door behind her opened, one she hadn't realised was there. Without thinking, she stepped up to the portal, a whirling blue doorway of energy. She almost felt a phantom pair of hands push her gently through, until she was standing in a large open chamber. At once she realised she was in a bedchamber, his private rooms.

There was a large round bed in the centre, freshly made as if never used. Too many pillows adorned the top, and it was covered in soft furs and pelts. A messy desk, off to one corner was flanked by two towering wolf statues. But it was the wall above the bed that made her breath catch. There was a mosaic, painted in breath-taking detail covering the entire space of the wall. No statuette sat in front, as this was not a regret he wanted to forget but one he wanted to remember.

Two elves, sitting together, hands held tightly in each others' grip, their faces inches apart. A breath-taking background of greenery behind, and an inky sky above them. It looked to all the world a lovers pledge, but she knew the truth. He'd left her, bare-faced and embarrassed. She did not know why. She knew now, he had tried to finally give her the truth that night. But he was too afraid, both that she would reject him and that she wouldn't.

She decided this place was too personal for Rook to know of, it seemed to have opened up on it's own just for her after all. This was her sanctuary now, the place where he worked, where he planned it all. She hadn't planned on staying at the Lighthouse, but she was more tired than she had been in an age. She had left her duties in the South in the hands of her Second, clear instructions in the case she didn't return.

She rummaged around through the dresser to one side and found a tunic and a pair of leggings, just like he used to wear when they first met. She pulled them on, and slipped between the covers. She was asleep within moments. That night, for the first time in years, he re-joined her in her dreams.

So, the Lighthouse then. They would make their home there, or a version of there, for the time being. As he sat slumped, catching his breath, she closed her eyes and tried to imagine the Lighthouse clear in her mind. She remembered the kitchen, the courtyard with its’ stone statue of Fen’Harel, the Lighthouse proper with all its rooms. She was briefly conflicted about including the frescoes with their depiction of his regrets, but ultimately decided to be as faithful with her recreation as possible.

Most critical was the bedchamber, his space for years and hers for a few lonely nights. A comfortable place for the two of them to learn how to be together again. She remembered the bed with its furs, the painting of them above the bed, his messy desk in the corner. But she made one change, a round tub big enough for the two of them to share. Opening her eyes, she found herself standing in their bedchamber. He was still slumped on the ground, hand to his chest, but he was looking up at her now in disbelief.

“How did you come to know of this place, vhenan?" He looked around in surprise, his voice low but his breath still coming in soft gasps. "I dreamed of bringing you here more than once. Did Rook..?”

She laughed softly then. “Yes, it was Rook. After the fall of Weissaupt, she invited me to the Lighthouse. She wanted to show me the regrets…” She trailed off when she saw his stricken expression. She knelt next to him then, bringing her hand to his cheek.

“I saw all of them, Solas. I know the truth of it now, all of it.” She murmured softly, her eyes meeting his with a sad smile. He looked down, unable to meet the intensity of her gaze. She grasped his chin and forced him to lock eyes with her.

“Please vhenan, from here on, trust me with the truth.” Her voice was soft, but her tone was imploring, almost pleading. 

“I will, my heart” He whispered. He pressed his forehead to hers, the two of them quiet but for the breaths between them. Eventually she pulled away, steeling herself. 

“Ok, enough delay. We need to take a look at your wound.” She declared, moving back into her problem-solving mindset. 

She helped him to his feet, then began mechanically working through removing his armour piece by piece. First, the pauldrons came off and she threw them down in a pile one after the other. Then she helped him shrug off the thick outer coat, the fabric sticking to his tunic in many places with blood and black Blight. The golden chest plate came next, its front ruined by the great tearing rip. She could imagine how it happened, as the Archdemon raked its claws upon his chest. The armour was crushed, bent completely out of shape. She tried undoing its claps but they were stuck fast, the armour immovable. His brows were drawn together now, his breath coming in quick hisses of pain as she worked.

Enough, she decided, and with a quick flick of her good hand split his armour up the middle. Her magic came quickly in the Fade, much quicker than it ever had. She pushed the armour off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. He sighed with relief, stretching his aching back. She couldn't help but run her eyes over his form then, tall and broad and gorgeous even now exhausted and covered in grime. He noticed her silent observation, the tips of his ears taking on a pink blush. 

He ducked his head, moving his attention quickly to his footwear which he tossed aside. Next, his fingers deftly unbuckled his belt. His greaves fell to the floor and he stepped out of them.  He stood there, wearing leggings and a soft tunic. Ellana watched him undress with a mixture of emotions. But worry overtook everything else when she saw how much blood had soaked into his tunic. She came to him, reaching for the hem of his shirt. She left the question unsaid as their eyes met, and he wordlessly nodded. She slowly lifted his tunic, peeling the fabric away from where it stuck to him, drenched in his blood.  When she reached his chest he hissed in pain, but then she lifted it over his head and let it drop to the floor. She let out a soft gasp, wondering how had he been walking around like this. His chest and neck were a ruin of cuts and bruises, overlaid over a patchwork of older scars, faded to a pale silver over thousands of years he'd kept this body. 

“Oh, vhenan.” She murmured, her heart heavy with sorrow for him. He closed his eyes, breathing deeply, clearly unable to hide the pain from her any longer. 

She laid her hands over his heart, over the tearing bloodied rip. She opened her mind to the greater Fade, channelling her energies into healing him. She saw the wound close, and deeper felt his breathing stabilise as several ribs knitted back together. She took him by the hand then, leading him to the tub now filled with steaming water. He murmured appreciatively, brushing a small kiss across her knuckles.  Dropping her hand, he pushed his soft leggings down and stepped out of them, leaving him standing in only his smallclothes.

Ellana took in the lean, pale shape of him then as he stood before her. As her eyes found his she quickly looked away, suddenly embarrassed that she had been caught staring. She had never seen him in a state of undress, only ever imagined it in her dreams. He laughed then, a soft genuine sound of mirth that caught her by surprise.

“Suddenly shy, my heart?” He teased, a glint in his eye she had seen only a few times before. 

He didn't wait for her to answer, instead unceremoniously pushing down his undergarments and stepping out of them. He turned and stepped over the rim into the tub, hissing with pleasure as he sank into the near-scalding water. Feeling braver now, with him facing away, she started removing her own clothing. Boots first, then her mage armour, the ceramic plate dropping noisily to her feet. At the sound, he turned to look at her, an inscrutable expression on his face. She kept his gaze while pulling her tunic over her head, his violet eyes travelling across the curve of her breast and the swell of her hips.

Under his silent observation, she fumbled at the ties of her drawstring breeches. He chucked again, and turned around to give her privacy. She moved quickly then, dropping her breeches and smallclothes together. Her brassiere came last, thrown in a heap with the rest of her clothes. Then she stepped toward the tub, her breath shaky, more nervous than she had ever been with him. She reached out, brushing her hand across his arm gently. 

"Move forward, vhenan." She said softly. 

He scooted forward obligingly, leaving space for her behind him. She stepped in and lowered herself down, one knee raised either side of him. Her chest was flush to his back as he leaned back against her with a blissful sigh. She wrapped her arms around his waist as he laid his hands over hers, almost hugging himself. She was sure he could feel her pounding heart against his back, her breath shaky against his neck. They sat and soaked, wrapped together for a long while, feeling the tension and physical hurt leave their bodies. It was so intensely intimate and yet somehow completely natural for them both, a comfortable silence stretching between them. 

After a time, she found herself some soap and started rubbing his back in gentle circles. A small moan escaped his lips before he could stop it. She smiled to herself and continued, helping him remove the grime that clung to his pale skin. After a time she pushed his shoulder gently.

"Turn, my heart." She murmured, motioning for him to move. 

He turned slowly to face her, and she noticed the tips of his ears were flushed a dusky pink. She let a small smile fall across her lips, pleased at his reaction to her touch. Reaching for a washcloth, she dipped it in the water and then reached out to his face. He let her tend to him, closing his eyes as she worked. 

She wiped at his mouth, washing away the blood and blight that remained there. Gently, she traced the long ragged scar which had nearly bisected his right eye. It looked like it could easily have been a fatal wound, and her breath caught in her chest to see it up close. She cupped his face between her hands, and brought her lips to brush gently against his forehead. Then she found herself reaching again into the Fade, summoning healing magic, channelling it into his ruined face. After a second, he grasped her hands and pulled them away gently. She frowned, looking to him with the unsaid question but he just shook his head softly.

"Some scars carry importance, a mark of deeds great and terrible.” He whispered, giving her hands a gentle squeeze. 

She glanced at the scar already above his eye where he had removed his own Vallaslin. She nodded, understanding the sentiment.  She returned her hands to his face and continued healing, but made sure to leave a remnant. A thin silver scar ran from forehead to lip, one that would be with him forever, joining the myriad of others he had across his pale form. 

Her work done, she leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. He returned it equally gently, his hands letting go of hers to find their way to the curve of her waist. He leaned back against the rim of the tub, pulling her close to him. She became aware of their proximity then, as she kneeled naked between his legs, her breasts pushed against his chest. She snaked her arms around his neck and pressed herself fiercely into him. He pushed to deepen the kiss, pulling her bottom lip between his teeth and then moving his tongue to explore hers. 

With a pounding heart she noticed his arousal, the large shape of his hardened length pressing into her belly. She felt herself flush, a wave of heat that went straight to her core. It was a thrill for her to know, finally, after all this time that he wanted her. She had dreamed of laying with him for years, longing for his touch across the decade of their separation. Their time apart further marred by their lack of consummation, their relationship never knowing the sweet intimacy of release in each others arms. 

His hands wandered across her back, to her shoulders and then gently he pushed her back and broke the kiss. His expression was conflicted, eyes dark with desire but brows drawn into a look of anguish. 

“Ir abelas, vhenan, but I cannot tonight. I am still more injured than I appear, not just in body but in spirit." He gently took her hand, brushing a kiss across her knuckles. Her heart raced, disappointment running thick in her veins but she would never push him, especially not tonight. 

"I long to give myself to you, desperately, but I do not want to fall short of your expectations. I know we have waited too long, but we have nothing but time here." He gave her a sad smile, putting his hand to her neck and pulling her close for a gentle kiss.  

He stood up slowly, pulling them both out of the bath. He waved a lazy hand over the water and it evaporated, leaving the tub dry and empty before them. He wrapped her tightly in a towel, pressing a kiss to her forehead before towelling himself off. He moved to the dresser and laid out fresh clothing for them both. He selected a pair of soft green leggings for himself, pulling them quickly on over a fresh pair of smallclothes.

She went for a long-sleeved white tunic and bottoms only, foregoing a brassiere or pants. They both slipped into bed under the covers, him quickly reaching out his arms for her. He cuddled up against her body as she pressed herself back against his chest. He brought his arm possessively around her waist, cradling her against his hips.  He kissed her softly behind her ear, his breath warm against her neck.

She marvelled at the feeling, safe and warm and secure finally in his arms. She never dreamed when she left her bed that morning that she would find herself in his, in the grey twilight of the Fade. They had only time, as he said, and she knew regardless of the landscape they would make the most of it.

"Sweet dreams, vhenan.” He murmured, his voice thick with exhaustion. 

"Rest well, my love." She whispered back, her eyes drifting closed. 

They fell quickly into an easy sleep, together. 

Chapter Text

Ellana became aware almost immediately she was in a dream, lucidity returning quicker than it ever had. She wasn’t aware people could dream while physically in the Fade. No sooner she had the thought than she realised that this was specifically a memory. A memory she had made in the very bed she was currently asleep in, wrapped around her love. She became aware then that he was also there, watching silently from the edge of her vision. This was a recent memory, just weeks ago, on her first night here in the Lighthouse. She woke in the early hours of the morning, a half-remembered dream in her mind. She had indulged in her fantasies with the shade of her lover. She indulged now in the memory, letting it play out as it had that night, knowing he was there now watching her. 

Her eyes fluttered open, the room immediately stifling. She threw the covers off, putting her hand to her racing heart. The memory of her dream fading, her shade lover had brought her right to the precipice before she was rudely pulled away. Heat had pooled between her legs, her thighs slick with want. She pressed her thighs together, desperate for friction. She wouldn’t be able to fall asleep again, not in this state. In his room, in his bed it was impossible for her mind to rest. The room was still stifling, and she started pawing at her clothes. His long-sleeved tunic pulled roughly over her head. She pulled down her soft leggings, her smalls coming off with them, kicking them off to lay at the foot of the bed. 

She looked up at him then, still there, watching silently from across the room. Closer than he had ever been in a dream. She wondered if the dream was real enough for him to smell her arousal in the air. Keeping her eyes on him, she moved her left hand to her breast, running the pad of her prosthetic finger over her hardened nipple. She had imbued it with a minute electrical spark. A small moan escaped her lips, and she saw his eyes widen slightly and his lips part. Then her other hand moved down her belly, dragging her fingertips softly across her skin. 

She whispered then, to nobody, “Please, Solas. Touch me.” 

A ragged breath escaped him, as he watched her hand move deeper until it disappeared between her thighs. He moved quickly closer then, his violet eyes never leaving her, until he was at the foot of the bed. She locked eyes with him, and then her hand finished its slow descent to the dark curls at the apex of her thighs. Breathing deeply she ran a finger through her slick folds, throwing her head back and moaning wantonly. He made a choking sound, trying to hold back a gasp, his eyes locked to her form. She felt a thrill, touching herself like this in front of him, in his bed.  

Then she plunged a finger fully inside, her other hand continuing to work her nipple into a stiff peak. She added another finger to her slick heat, pumping them frantically. She moaned his name, pleading for him to take her. She curled her fingers just so, riding her hand toward a precipice. She took her hand off her nipple and moved to give attention to her swollen clit. Her right hand still pumping, left hand working her sensitive nub she felt her high quickly approaching. She could hear his ragged breath now, close to her ear. 

When it came to her his voice was low, made hoarse with desire. "You're doing so well, vhenan. Do not stop." 

She hadn't expected those words from him, and she felt herself flush. She looked for him, meeting his violet eyes over her shoulder. They were dark with desire, as he watched her enjoying herself in his bed. He leaned closed then, his voice breathy in her ear.

“I want you to come for me, vhenan.” 

His words set her on fire, as she chased her release. A frantic pace, her head thrown back against the pillows, riding her hand and rubbing her swollen clit between her fingers. She felt herself on the verge and she looked for him. She saw him watching her, breathing hard, his hand running over his clothed length. His eyes were half-lidded with desire, his bottom lip caught between his teeth.

Finally, her high washed over her. She cried out noisily, not caring if anyone heard her. She continued riding her hand through it, imagining she were splayed across his lap, impaled on his hard length. She hadn’t been with a man in many years, long before she had met him. And she found little comfort lately in her own hands, so it had been months since she’d brought herself to completion. Finally she relaxed, letting her hands fall to her sides. She closed her eyes, and lay catching her breath. She felt the bed move as he lay down beside her.  He leaned in close, bringing his lips right to the long point of her ear. 

"You’ve never been so beautiful." He murmured. He gently took her hand, and she opened her eyes in surprise when she felt him take her two fingers into his mouth, gently sucking them clean of her slick. The sight sent a wave of heat pooling in her core, her breath caught in her chest. 

“Mar rodhe ir’on." He whispered, his voice hoarse. He pulled her into his arms then, pressing his lips to hers fiercely before pulling away quickly.

“Come, I have something for you to see.” He urged, closing his eyes. She closed hers too, and felt her perception shift, no longer in her dream but his.  

She was standing at the balcony door, the ever-present twilight silhouetting her. She looked for him and found him sitting at his desk, a half-drunk mug of coffee perched on the top which was otherwise cluttered with books and papers. He had a quill in hand, paused over a half-written letter. There were many scrunched-up pieces of parchment on the desk, evidence of the difficulty the letter was proving to be. She got close enough to read it, and her heart dropped when she saw it was addressed to her. The letter he never sent, the one Morrigan had been given by the Caretaker, the one that even now sat in her pack on the floor of this very room. 

He threw the quill down in frustration, rubbing a hand across his bare scalp. He growled in frustration, low in his chest. “Fenhedhis! Why are my thoughts still so consumed by her?” He asked nobody in particular, not expecting a reply. He was alone with his thoughts, a place he had grown very comfortable in recent years. 

Sighing, he knew he was too distracted to continue. He was nearing the goal he'd worked toward since he awoke to a broken world, and yet all his thoughts lately were of her. If his plan succeeded, what would become of his love? He sighed, knowing he had no way to answer. He couldn't have her, and he never did have her, but he imagined many times what she would have been like. He allowed himself an indulgence, then, silently promising himself this would be the last time.

Leaning back in his chair, her thought of all the times he had claimed her lips. When he’d wrapped himself around her, claimed her for his. Ellana watched, from across the room, as he fought an internal struggle with himself. In the end it seemed his need outweighed his want, as his hands lowered to the buttons on his breeches. His fingers fumbled, clumsy with anticipation as he thought of how her delicate touch would feel undressing him. He managed to get his breeches open, pushing them down quickly to release his hard length. It sprang free from his smallclothes, Ellana gasping softly as she finally saw it. She moved closer, wanting to see his face, eager to see him bring pleasure to himself. 

He gently palmed his length, hissing at the contact. He rarely felt the need for such displays, but he throbbed painfully at the thought of her. He firmly grasped himself then, starting a slow pumping rhythm, small moans escaping his lips. Ellana felt the heat pool in her sex, the sounds of him enjoying himself driving her wild. She wanted nothing more than to climb into his lap, and take his throbbing cock into herself. But she was a guest in this memory, he had brought her here to witness and she would enjoy the show. 

He increased his pace, whimpering, his head thrown back. His need spurred him on, and he worked himself to a frenzied rhythm. His breathing was ragged, he moaned deeply, uttering phrases under his breath in elvhen. Many of them she didn’t understand, ancient words lost to time, but her mouth fell open when she heard him whimper.

“Ellana, nuvenan rosa’da’din in ma sule enan’ma!”

She had never thought him to say something so filthy, and it sent a hot pang of desire straight to her sex. She was certain he must be able to smell her scent now, how wet she was just for him. His face was a picture of bliss, eyes closed and lower lip firmly between his teeth. His movements became erratic then, his hips bucking into his hand as he jerked his shaft with a furious rhythm. 

Ellana couldn't help herself then, observer or no, she moved closer until she was standing right beside him. She could see the dusting of light freckles across the skin of his nose. She had to make a choice then, as she leaned over him, the memory of him begging for her touch. 

"Nuvenan rosas’da’din, vhenan." She murmured, her voice thick with desire. 

His eyes snapped open, intense violet and wide with need. He watched as she reached out to grasp his cock with one small hand, pumping it slowly twice before quickly lowering her mouth over it.  Her lips closed around the tip of his length, and then she pushed him further inside, as far in as he would go.

His breath came in harsh ragged gasps then, his eyes wild as he watched her take him. The noises he made drove her almost feral, she never dreamed she could make him sound so undone. 

She worked him back to a frantic pace as he moaned and panted above her, his hands fisted in her long hair.

“Ellana, please, I can’t-” He gasped breathlessly, cutting himself off with a groan. 

In a few short moments he was at the precipice. He cried out then, a long deep groan that filled her with fierce pride as he filled her mouth with his spend. She continued slowly pumping his thick shaft, milking the last of his release. She swallowed, careful not to waste a drop. He watched her incredulously, his mouth open and breath coming in gasps, in disbelief that she had been able to take control of his dream. 

She leaned down to kiss him, and he eagerly claimed her lips, tasting himself on them. Eventually he pulled back, still breathing hard. His eyes were dark, his voice rough with desire. 

"I cannot bear to wait any longer, I need you to wake up." 

Chapter Text

He reached for her first, his warm hands searching for her under the thick covers. His violet eyes met hers as she moved to face him, only his ragged breath betraying him.  He pulled her close, a hand fisted into her hair while another snaked around to grasp the flesh of her ass. His lips met her neck, a sensitive spot just under her ear, and he nipped playfully, earning a gasp from her. Her heart raced, almost unbelieving she had finally found her way into his embrace, rushing down a path that would soon find them naked and exultant together. She had dreamed of this for a decade, dreams where he stood and eagerly watched as she took pleasure with a shade in the shape of him. 

He pulled away from gently, watching her for a long moment as if he only now saw the truth of her. She felt her breath catch under his silent observation, heat pooling between her legs as she looked over his lean form. Then he smiled, a bright boyish smile so filled with promise, so bright she felt he could blot out the Sun. He was here, warm and real and just for her. He held out his hand to her, offering his body, his heart and spirit. 

“Let me show you how much you mean to me, vhenan.” He murmured to her, his chest rising and falling quickly. “Isalan hima sa i’na, more than anything I've ever wanted.” 

She reached for him eagerly, pulling him back to her, reaching out her arms to circle around his neck. She met his lips with a hungry kiss, taking him by surprise with her ferocity.  She pulled him closer still until he was over her, his heavy weight crushing against her chest, his body snugly between her thighs. She was already slick with the want their dreams had stoked, her smallclothes soaked. Desperate for any friction she ground her core against his thigh, eliciting a gasp from him and needy whine from her.

Their kiss broken, he moved to brush his lips across her neck. He trailed open-mouthed kisses down her jaw to her throat, stopping as she let out a quick gasp as he reached a particularly sensitive spot. He stayed there, sucking the skin softly and then running his tongue across it as she moaned softly for him, her nails coming to run softly across his scalp. His fingers continued to move slowly, finding the hem of her tunic. She felt his warm hands slide across her belly, gentle and searching, as they made their way lazily ever upwards. It was a thrill to feel his skin exploring hers, so eager to find the places that gave her pleasure and forced noises from her throat. She had waited too long for this - yearned for it - and now to know he needed her just as desperately was intoxicating.  

He pulled back, just enough to allow room between them to pull her tunic up and over her head. He threw it roughly over her shoulder, not caring where it landed. She stifled a giggle at his newfound attitude, pleased to know he was as impatient as she was becoming. 

He spent a moment taking in the sight of her then - her hair splayed across the pillows, the flat of her belly and swell of her hips, the curve of her breasts. She was not lithe and willowy like many modern elves, though she was small she had a certain softness about her. He reached gently forward, eyes locked to hers, brushing his fingers against the band of her smallclothes. She nodded quickly, her heart leaping into her throat, and he slid the soaking garment off her hips and down her legs revealing her patch of soft dark hair. She rubbed her thighs together, desperate for his touch or any friction at all. He returned his lips to hers, a soft gentle kiss, just the lightest touch before pulling back. She chased him, trying to pull him back but he just held up a gentle finger to her lips. 

“Isalan dera na aron tuelan, vhenan.” He breathed, his eyes locked on hers. She only nodded, her breath caught in her chest. 

His large hands roamed across her body, gentle and searching, determined to learn the shape of her.  With the softest touch of his fingertips he traced across the top of her hip, the soft skin of her belly, to the curve of her breast. He remembered how she had pleasured herself in his bed, calling his name and begging for him and he flushed to the tips of his ears. Ellana was enjoying his exploration of her, her anticipation only growing as he carefully avoided the exact touches she wanted him to give.  

Finally he reached out and brushed the pad of one his thumbs across a nipple, earning him a soft moan from her. He worked it to a stiff peak as she arched her back against the covers, a ragged gasp drawn from her as he suddenly took her nipple into his mouth.  The sharp "ah!" from her mouth had gone straight through him, and now he throbbed painfully with the need to have her. The noises she made were delicious, and he knew he would never be the same again knowing it. He continued his efforts on her nipple, sucking gently as she squirmed under him. 

Ellana was about to take things into her own hands, to help begin to resolve her own desperate need when she felt his fingers had begin to drift lower. He dragged his fingertips slowly across her belly, then down to the dark curls between the apex of her thighs. But to her disappointment he passed over her heat, trailing fingertips across the sensitive skin of her thighs instead, before coming to knead the flesh between both hands. 

She reached out for his shoulder then, her breath ragged with need. “Please Solas, I need you to touch me. Please-” She was begging already, ten years wait already far too long. They should have been together in the misty air of Crestwood, or in her fine quarters at Skyhold or pushed over his desk in the rotunda. She would not wait any longer, and now neither would he. 

“Ma nuvenin, vhenan.” He murmured, nodding his head, moving to lower himself between her thighs. 

He brought his eyes to hers as he reached out with one long finger, running it through her slick folds with deliberate slowness. She moaned softly, pushing her head back into the pillows. He brought his finger back to his lips to taste, making a soft satisfied hum before pulling it from his mouth with a lurid sound. The sight and sound drove her wild, desperate for more and he did not disappoint. 

He slipped one finger fully inside her quickly, earning a ragged gasp from her. She was so wet she accepted him extremely easily, her sex contracting tightly around him. He memorised the sound and added another finger, pushing in as far as she allowed. He had watched her do this to herself, and knew exactly how she would like it. He curled his fingers just so, revelling in her eager moans and the feel of her gripping his hand. She felt pinned by his hands, filling her much more than her own did, easily moving to brush against the exquisite spot deep inside her.

With her eyes closed now, head pressed back into the pillows, she was surprised by the sudden feel of his breath on her core. Fingers still gently curling, he began to move his tongue between her folds, lapping greedily at the juice from her sex. She was moaning wantonly now, as he pushed her thighs wide and lifted them over his shoulders, driving his face into her sex. Her hands were gripping the covers fiercely, fisting the blanket in a vice grip. She was riding his face, rocking her hips against him and she knew he loved it too, moaning into her core as her made a meal of her.

“Solas, ma’haurasha. Look what you do to-" She was cut off in groan as he bought his other hand up to rub her swollen clit.

He sensed she was close now, and he worked her up to a frantic pace. Her breathing quickened, coming in ragged gasps before she reached out and roughly grabbed his hands.

“Stop." She moaned, as if it were agony to say. He immediately stilled, his eyes locking onto hers with sudden intensity. 

“I want to come when you're inside me.” She whispered fiercely, internally proud of her own boldness. She was breathing hard, her eyes wide with desire. He nodded gently, a smile coming to his lips as she noticed a blush creep across his cheeks and the tips of his ears. He withdrew his hands, locking eyes with her as he licked his fingers clean of her essence. He closed his eyes, seemingly savouring her flavour on his tongue. Then she locked her thighs around him and pulled him close, reaching both arms toward him to pressing a bruising kiss to lips. Their tongues met again, and the taste of herself on him was exhilarating. 

He pulled back from her then, again, and she was momentarily frustrated. But he had only moved to lay on his back, his hand held out again in front of him. It was an invitation she took immediately, moving to drape herself across his bare chest, her lips finding his, and her right hand moving to the waistband of his leggings. She needed to hear him, desperately needed to know he needed this, his moans and gasps proof of his desire. 

Without breaking the kiss she slid her hand across the clothed outline of his hard length. He hissed at the sudden contact, watching her intently as she tugged his leggings down his hips, his smallclothes coming down with him. Then she slowly reached down and took his throbbing cock in her grasp.  He let out a long groan then, his brows knitting together and his mouth falling open as she gripped him in her small hand. 

She pumped his length slowly, enjoying the slide of his silken skin. A slow pace, almost torturously so, while she moved her lips to the sensitive spot under his jaw. He began whimpering, her touch driving him wild but not taking him far enough. His thick shaft was weeping, and she brushed her thumb over the tip and then brought it to her mouth to taste. She couldn't wait to have more, wanted to take him down her throat and see him ruined.

He’d had enough of the tease then as he grasped his leggings and smallclothes and pushed them the rest of the way down, kicking them both off.  Her gaze was drawn to him and she felt a rush of desire as she took in the full sight of him. He was bigger than any man she had been with before, thick and with a patch of reddish hair at the base of him. She saw him twitch under her approving look, bringing her eyes back to his face to see his simmering with barely restrained lust, holding back for her sake. 

She grasped him firmly again, earning a groan from him. Then she locked eyes with him, his now intense violet and half-lidded, and without breaking his gaze took the tip of him into her lips. She saw him clamp his bottom lip between his teeth then, his brows drawn together. She opened her mouth to him fully then, taking as much of him as she could manage. Her other hand, the prosthetic, gripped him at the base gently, a minute magical charge imbued in her fingertips. He let out a whimper and balled his fists at his sides. She noticed he was trembling now, thighs shaking. She had only just begun to work him to a gentle rhythm when he threw his head back and cried out, a rich sound that sent a desperate pang of longing to her core. 

Then his hands were on her shoulders, pulling her back, his breath heavy and ragged. “Stop, Ellana! You’re going to make me - ” He was cut off as her lips pressed against his desperately, her tongue moving into his mouth so he could taste himself on her lips. She lay over his heart, pressing her breasts against his chest, his hardened length pressing into her belly. She allowed him time, waiting for his breathing to slow, for his heart to stop crashing out of his chest. He reached up a hand to cup her cheek, looking embarrassed, a crimson flush across his cheeks and the taut skin of his chest.

"Ir abelas, vhenan. It has been a very long time since-" Ellana cut him off, holding a finger to his lips. 

"Me as well, vhenan. Many years. We have only time, there's no need to rush." She said softly, trying to soothe him.  He just chuckled softly, his eyes flashing with that same wolfish gleam. He grabbed both of her hips roughly, his fingers pressing into her soft flesh, and deftly rolled them so he was above her again.

"I want to rush now, vhenan. We have waited long enough." He replied, pressing a delicate kiss to her lips. A shiver went through her at his words, feeling nothing but his heavy weight pressing upon her and the exquisite ache between her legs.

He placed himself between her thighs then, his narrow hips pushed up against the heat of her core. He cupped one of her breasts in one hand, his warm hands tracing lines over her skin. He was setting her on fire with his touch and she ground herself against his pelvis. He moaned at the contact, deciding then that they had waited long enough. Far too long in truth, but they could make up for lost time. 

He reached a hand between them, running his fingers gently through her slick folds. His hand came away soaked, and he licked his fingers before returning it between them. He grasped his hardened length then, still slick from her mouth and brought it to her core, running the tip along her slick folds. They both moaned then, the friction intense, and she felt she could easy climax just from the simple contact. He searched for her eyes and they met, a wordless question in his. She just nodded quickly, her heart thudding in her chest, her arms coming to encircle him.

They kept their eyes locked on each other as he pushed his hard length slowly - so slowly - into her core. His mouth fell open as he pushed himself inside her, inch by inch, finally bottoming out with a groan from them both. At her limit he ground his hips against her, earning a ragged moan from the both of then. She felt like her veins thrummed with magic as he filled her more fully than any man ever had. Her body was so wet for him, warm and soft and wonderfully tight. It was a thrill for him to finally know the shape and the feel of her, and he ached to fill her with himself. Finally seated, he stilled, catching himself as feeling threatened to overwhelm him. It had been many, many hundreds of years since he had used his body like this, not since before the Veil. 

She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him to her for a fierce kiss, her tongue dancing with his. She desperately needed more of him, and she rocked her hips trying to get him to move. He gasped as he shifted within her, almost losing himself right there.

"Wait! Please, give me one moment, my heart." His breath was ragged as he struggled to keep control. He moved one hand into her hair then, tilting her head up to claim her lips. She stilled her hips, focusing on dragging her nails softly across his back. He pulled away from her lips, moving to claim a nipple again, taking it into his mouth and sucking gently. She moaned, enjoying how she felt stretched around his throbbing cock, as she moved her lips back to the sensitive spot below his jaw. At one spot he gasped softly, so she sucked at his flesh, marking him and eliciting a soft moan. After a time he moved both hands to grab her hips, his fingers digging into her soft flesh. He started a slow rhythm, pulling back only slightly and then thrusting into her deeply with deliberate, almost languid movements. She moaned softly beneath him, her arms around his waist as he moved above her. 

"Ar lath ma, vhenan." He sighed, his breath heavy at her ear. She grabbed his chin then with two fingers and tilted his face down to meet hers.

"I love you too, my heart. Very much. But I need you to fuck me harder. Please, I need you." Her tone was low and desperate, pleading. He grasped her thigh roughly, spreading her wider and pulling her knee over his hip. He shifted, forcing him suddenly deeper inside and she yelped then, quickly becoming a moan as she rocked her hips against him. His eyes flashed with concern, almost pulling away but she held him fiercely. 

"Vhenan, did I hurt-" He started, but she interrupted smoothly. 

"Never. You fit me perfectly, like your body was made for mine" She murmured, continuing to rock her hips against his, desperate for him to move. 

He barely whispered then, to himself rather than her.  "Perhaps it was." 

She had her hands on his ass now, pulling him to her, pressing him ever closer and deeper. He worked to a steady pace, both her knees thrown over his shoulders as he pushed her into the mattress. She was writhing below him, all thought dissolved in the face of his attentions, clenching around him desperate for release. He could feel a tight knot forming, too soon, and he began to slow. He moved to pull back from her and she tightened her thighs around him in protest, looking to him in sudden panic.

"My heart," He said softly, bringing his lips to brush against hers. "I need you to ride me." 

She flushed, learning that he shared one of her own fiercest desires. She let him pull back then, her breathing heavy, and watched as he lay back. He was a vision, his lean form relaxed comfortably on the pillows, his thick shaft glistening with her slick as it jutted proudly toward her. He held his hand out for her in invitation, and she took it immediately. He guided her to his lap and she mounted him, straddling his thighs. From above, she took in the exquisite view of him. The taut, pale skin of his chest, the myriad of silvery scars there, the dusting of freckles across his nose. His violet eyes watched her intensely, almost with reverence, as if she were some divine creature. 

He was hers. He always would be, she was sure of this now.

She reached for his hands, threading their fingers together, his hands warm and strong in hers. Then she rocked against him, rubbing her slick folds along his shaft. He gasped at the contact, pushing his head into the pillow. She kept rocking, enjoying the feel of her clit against him, until he growled deep in his chest. She looked down at him then, his eyes dark, the desperate need returned. Wordlessly, she reached between them and grasped his throbbing cock. She positioned him at her soaking core, and in a quick movement pushed down fully on him. 

"Fenhedhis, Ellana." He gasped, his hands coming to clutch at her hips, his fingers digging into her soft flesh. She steadied herself, both hands on his chest as she started a steady rhythm, feeling him brush against her sensitive clit with every rock of her hips. He watched her with that same reverent look, open-mouthed and wide-eyed as she moved above him. Soon he was bucking against her and she needed more, riding him at a frantic speed, his gasps and moans spurring her on. She knew she wouldn't have long, and she rode him fiercely, her nails digging into his chest. 

She could feel her high approaching, and began chasing it in earnest, desperate to come around his thick shaft. She needed him deeper and she threw her arms around his neck, pulling him into a sitting position as she pressed her face into his shoulder. He shifted inside her, pushing even deeper and started to whimper then. She pulled her face away just enough to see him, and noticed him just barely keeping it together. His body was trembling, his thighs shaking as he tried to hold on. He had bitten his bottom lip so hard he drew blood, and she pressed her lips to his desperate for a taste. The feeling in her finally peaked then, and she groaned her pleasure into his mouth. She knew he was only hanging on for her so she begged him to join her.

"Rosa’da’din in’em, ma'len" She moaned, clutching him closely to her as she continued to ride him through her peak. He let go then, erratic messy thrusts, clinging to her as he shouted his release, emptying himself within her.

She lay splayed over him, both of them catching their breath for a long moment. He relaxed back against the pillows and she lay across his chest, listening to his thudding heart. He was really here, warm and real and safe with her. They were exhausted, physically wrecked and emotionally wrought but they were finally together, as they should be.  Eventually she shifted just enough for him to slip out, and he lifted her effortlessly off him, moving to curl up behind her with an arm thrown around her belly. He pressed a gentle kiss to her temple, her long hair wild and her skin damp with exertion. She revelled in the warmth of his breath on her neck, and the safety of his arms around her. She didn't know exactly what their future here held, but for now they lay together entwined, contented, and slept. 

Chapter Text

Waking with him properly for the first time was a surreal wonder. She came to lazily, enjoying the warmth and safety of his arm laid possessively across her middle. He was still holding her close, even in his sleep, and she felt a fierce surge of fondness for him. 

She tried to gently turn herself so she could look upon him, perhaps count the freckles across his nose with his face relaxed in sleep, the tension he so often carried blissfully absent. But he grumbled as she moved, pulling her back to him with a huff. He buried his face against her neck, breathing a contented sigh. She laughed softly to herself then, this version of him was more soft puppy than Dread Wolf. She would never mention such a thought to him, though. 

She laid in his arms a long while, feeling the beat of his heart and his even breath on her neck. She wanted him to have these small moments, of closeness and contentedness. To just be safe with her, quiet and together. They both deserved it after so long apart, so long desperately alone. She had been so close to losing him yesterday, only hours ago. Just minutes the difference between two lives of regret and the one of hope they were now just beginning to navigate together. 

Ellana was not a naïve girl, she was a woman grown, well into her third decade. She knew the path they walked was not one filled only of love and lust, and the comfort of lovers. He held hurt deep inside, so much regret, that only he could work to soothe.  She knew there was anger there, abject horror and sorrow at the things he had done and allowed to happen. Anguish of the people he had sacrificed in his quest to right the world he had broken. His spirit had been changed, had been moulded by the people who had used and abused him. 

He was truly a mirror, a reflection of the hands that wrenched his spirit to new form. With less compassion and understanding from her and others he would have fully become Pride, a twisted perversion of what was once his spirit of wisdom. A demon, in name and deed, forced to act outside his true nature and tortured for it. He had mentioned this exact scenario to her years ago, as they stood outside his cabin in Haven, while she lingered close asking him as much as she could of himself. She hadn't known then as he spoke of spirits of Wisdom and Purpose that he spoke of the truth of himself. He was usually so guarded with her this was the first time he had been truly honest, and she had been blissfully unaware. 

More still, she could tell he yearned to right the wrongs he still did have had the power to fix. The titans dreams, severed from them and mad, a pestilence of Blight upon the world. He had sworn to help ease their anger, though she had no understanding of how he would do this. Further, he was trapped in this self-created purgatory until he could accept the regrets that smothered his spirit. The first step on the path to redemption he began to walk would have to start here, with her.  Lost in her thoughts, she hadn’t noticed him finally stirring. He tightened his arms around her, murmuring a soft good morning into her hair.

“Sleep well, vhenan?” He asked softly, dragging his fingertips across her belly. She snuggled into his embrace, revelling in his warmth, and the strength of his arms around her. She murmured in agreement, nodding her head. 

“I feel like I slept for days. I might have, given how strange time flows here. Can you follow it? You have significantly more experience with it.” He took a moment to think before he answered her, his fingers continuing to trace softly against her skin.  

“Time here is strange, it's true. It ebbs and flows, sometimes at random and sometimes at the will of the spirit. I feel both that we’ve been together a single night and a lifetime.” He replied softly, pressing a gentle kiss to the soft skin behind her ear. 

“That’s completely unhelpful, Solas!” She protested, laughing. He chuckled too then, a soft husky sound that made her heart soar to hear it. She hadn't heard such a sound from him in very long time.

“Ir abelas, vhenan. I may have sculpted this pocket of Fade, but the true Fade always manages to surprise.” He apologised. “Just as you do.” He added thoughtfully, his hand tightening across her middle. She rolled back to face him then, reaching out a hand to brush against his cheek. She pulled him close, with two fingers against his chin. 

“Ar lath ma, vhenan.” She whispered against his lips, pressing hers to them softly. He returned the kiss just as gently, kissing her sweetly like she was a soft, delicate thing. He pulled back eventually, a smile on his lips. He stretched then, luxuriating in it, rolling his neck and shoulders. He was a sight to see, and she felt a tiny spark of pride to see a deep red mark on his neck she had left him last night. With his eyes closed, he hadn’t seen her staring, and she took a long moment to enjoy herself. 

She rolled onto her back then, the blanket and furs falling away. She caught him glance toward a matching mark on her neck, then down toward the curve of her breast. His eyes drifted lower then, past the softness of her belly to the apex of her thighs. He tilted his head, almost imperceptibly, taking in the clear evidence of their shared pleasure still on her. He wet his lips, subconsciously. His eyes took on a wicked gleam, the corner of his mouth lifting to a tiny smirk. 

“Ir abelas, vhenan. I seem to have made a mess of you.” He murmured, locking eyes with hers. She flushed then, feeling a deep blush from the tips of her ears to her toes. She was sure she had gone crimson, her face hot. She almost turned away in embarrassment except she caught sight of him. He was blushing too, the tips of his ears a lovely dusky pink. She laughed then, and felt that fierce fondness for him again. 

“I rather think we made a mess of each other, my heart.” 

He murmured his agreement, bringing his lips back to hers for another delicate kiss. He pulled away gently then, moving slowly to slip out from under the covers and off their bed. He stood, turning toward the tub in front of the balcony doors. He lazily waved a hand, and she saw it fill with steaming water. She got the intention and dragged herself quickly out of bed. He had sat in the bath by then, quickly submerging himself. He leaned against the back, one arm on the rim and the other reaching out to her. 

She took his hand and eased into the water, sitting between his bent legs, and leaned herself back into his chest. He quickly wrapped both arms around her soft middle, clutching her close to him. He buried his face in the curve of her neck and sighed. She revelled in the closeness of him,  always touching her, always so close, wrapped up in her like there was nothing else. It was intoxicating to her, to think this perfect being needed her just as desperately as she needed him. 

After a long while, he seemed to remember the reason for the bath. He found the soap then, and began erasing what they had left on each in the night. His hands worked slowly, moving across her skin with a gentle precision, lingering slightly too long over the soft skin of her thighs and breasts to be casual. She leaned into his touch, letting his hands wander over her as she made small noises of enjoyment. She felt him pressed against the small of her back, clearly enjoying her but neither of them moved to bring further attention to it. 

They sat and soaked together for a long while, the water beginning to cool as they enjoyed a comfortable silence together. Inwardly she knew they would have to get up eventually, and she resolved to give herself a few more minutes. She leaned back against him, feeling his heartbeat in his chest and his soft breath on her neck.  He cleared his throat suddenly, and shifted slightly, drawing himself up. His voice was soft when it came to her, pressed directly into her ear so she wouldn't miss it. 

“Vhenan, last night…” He trailed off, trying to find the words. 

She blushed then, remembering their intense passion and all the things they’d whispered to each other. The things he had said to her in the dark would stay burned into her memory. She would never forget the sounds she had coaxed from him, the feel of his lips and hands on her, and how it felt to be filled with him. Then, she felt his heart, thudding in his chest pressed firmly against her back. She pushed down the feeling, keeping her composure. It seemed a question was on his tongue, and she wanted to encourage it. She pulled away slightly then, turning to face him. She tried to keep her tone even, but she was sure her face betrayed her. 

“Yes, my heart?” She asked softly, meeting his eyes finally. 

A wave of emotion played quickly across his face then - embarrassment, doubt and then a flash of hope - before he visibly tried to pull himself together. He whispered, as though he was afraid of his own words. 

“You called me 'ma’len'. It’s an old elvhen word, ancient in truth.  It was not in common usage, and it holds a very specific meaning. I wondered if you knew the truth of it…” He looked so forlorn then, unsure of himself. He ducked his head, unable to meet her gaze. “Perhaps the Dalish myth diluted it over time?” He asked, his voice small. 

She felt herself blush then, the tips of her ears turning pink. She felt such fierce love for him, for his hope that she knew this word and used it in truth. And she had, her grip of the Elvhen language relied mostly on imperfect Dalish history and his tutelage a decade ago but this word was a special one and she had used it deliberately. She took a moment,  choosing her next words carefully. 

"From my understanding it means ‘husband, forever partner,’' She murmured softly, reaching out to run the pad of her thumb across his bottom lip. “One’s spirit bond. It’s what I’ve always felt for you Solas, what I’ve always wanted for us." She finished, continuing to slowly trace her thumb across his lip. 

His violet eyes closed then, blinking away the tears that began to well up. He pulled her firmly into his arms, wrapping himself around her tightly as he pushed his lips against hers. They broke away after a long moment, both of them breathless. 

“Ma’lan, my fierce Hope.” He whispered, his eyes now filled with admiration that took her breath away. She looked up to him then, catching his emphasis on the final word.

“Hope?” She repeated, pulling back from him, her eyes wide and questioning. He quickly nodded, seemingly coming to some point of action.

“I need to show you something, vhenan. Will you come with me?” 

She nodded, and he quickly stood pulling her with him as they both stepped out of the tub.  They both quickly dressed, comfortably in leggings and a tunic leaving their feet bare. He took her hand in his then, and led them through the portal and out through the music room to the main hall of the Lighthouse. She was aware they didn’t need to physically travel anywhere here when they could just manifest objects and memories into existence, but it brought some blissful normalcy to her to walk with him through their home. 

Up the stairs then, and down a short corridor into a dark room. She had not been in here on her visit, though she was aware Rook had made it her space during her time there. Solas had filled in the gaps in her imperfect recollection, and it stood now looking like it had when it was his. 

There was an enormous glass tank filled with water at the far end of the room, brightly coloured fish swimming amongst the coral. On either wall were a pair of heavy tapestries, one depicting him as a youthful, long-haired warrior. His auburn hair was shaved close on the sides, a great soft mane trailing his back. His chest was bare, except for his wolf jawbone charm. Mythal’s vallaslin was still on his face. She was struck by the look of him, equal parts confidence and naivete.  Cocky and hot-blooded, but he looked vulnerable too and she found herself inexplicably drawn to him. 

On the opposite wall was a great wolf, with shaggy black hair and six glowing blue eyes. She had seen him in this shape, from afar, fighting the Archdemon of Elgar’nan. She didn’t understand how such a fearsome and terrible creature could hide away inside her love. She was raised to believe the tales told by the Dalish, that Fen’Harel was a fiend. The God of treachery and trickery, that the Dread Wolf a monster who would devour the lost and naïve. He spoke up then, pulling her out of her reverie.

“This is my meditation chamber. I have used it in the past to concentrate my focus to travel to specific places or memories when I dream. In this part of the fade our dreams will only be memories, but we need not be asleep to access them. Indeed, keeping lucidity in a dream is much easier when the Dreamer is not truly asleep and aware they will be partaking in a dream." He explained smoothly, one hand playing with the hem of his tunic sleeve.  

“You want to bring me to a dream then?” She asked, curiously. 

He nodded quickly. “Yes, a specific memory I wish to show you. I will follow you into your dream, and we can find the memory together." He replied. 

“Just show me what you need me to do, vhenan.” She said softly, moving close to him until their bodies were almost touching. Like this the height difference was stark, his frame so different from the soft look he'd had when they first met. 

He reached out a hand to her, and she took it, allowing herself to be led to a pile of cushions and furs heaped in a pile in front of the fish tank. He laid down on his back, pulling her down next to him. He kept their hands intertwined, and made himself comfortable in the furs. Eyes closed, he gently instructed her to lay perfectly still and control her breathing. Focusing on the feel of the beat of her heart and the sound of his breath. Soon enough, they were together in the dream. 

It was her dream they entered, or rather her memory. She knew immediately where they had come, as a cold wind whipped her hair around. The golden light of sunset shone across her face, and his too as she turned to see him standing there. He gave a slight smile and sighed, stepping away leaving her standing there alone. Then, he was there. The Solas of her memory, the man she had actually experienced this with. They were standing on her balcony, at Skyhold. 

This Solas looked so different. The same eyes, same cheeks and pale skin but he looked almost small. He was dressed so simply, he didn’t stand tall. There was little Pride here. He was closed off and secretive, and she couldn’t believe she was so blind to it. She looked over to her Solas for reassurance, and he gave her a small nod. 

“Let this happen as it did.” He whispered. And so she did. The Solas of the dream turned to face her, speaking quickly. He hadn’t said hello, diving instead straight into a question. 

“What were you like, before the anchor?” 

She held her left hand up, her palm pulsing with a green light. She felt an odd pang of regret, seeing her arm as it had been before, before he had taken it from her with the remaining fragments of her broken heart. He continued then, quickly, almost stumbling to get the words out fast enough. 

“Has it affected you? Changed you in any way? Your mind, your morals, your…spirit?” He hesitated before the last word, placing a specific emphasis on it she hadn’t noticed originally. 

“If I had, do you really think I’d have noticed?” She felt herself replying.

“No, that’s an excellent point” He conceded, nodding slightly to her. She cocked her eyebrow then, curious where this was going.

“Why do you ask? What do you think is going on here?” 

“You show a wisdom I have not seen since-” He paused there, almost stuck, before recovering. “Since my deepest journeys into the ancient memories of the Fade. You are not what I expected.” 

“Sorry to disappoint” She teased 

“It’s not disappointing! It’s-” He sighed then, finding the right words. “Most people are predictable. You have shown subtlety in your actions. A wisdom that goes against everything I expected. If the Dalish could raise someone with a spirit like yours, have I misjudged them?” 

“The Dalish didn’t make me like this, the decisions were mine." She replied evenly. He seemed to enjoy that answer, a small smile gracing his lips before he moved on. 

“Yes, you are wise to give yourself that due. Although the Dalish, in their fashion, may still have guided you. Perhaps that is it, I suppose it must be. Most people act with so little understanding of the world. But not you." 

“So what does this mean, Solas?” 

She had thought originally he had brought her here finally for a quiet moment together. Perhaps they would kiss again. Perhaps he would confess to be taken to distraction by her like she was with him.  But he was interrogating her, of all things, on the nature of her upbringing. She was confused and disheartened, until he continued his next thought. 

“It means I have not forgotten the kiss.” He replied softly, his eyes finding hers. 

Her heart soared, thudding in her chest, as she walked to him. The sun was truly setting, dropping below the mountains as she stood before him. She felt so naïve now, remembering how she teased him. Her hands behind her back, chest pushed to him, inviting him to kiss her again. He shook his head, turning quickly to walk away. She grabbed his arm then, resolute, determined not to let him ruin this. 

“Don’t go.” She whispered, pleading.  

He had his head down, his back still to her when he replied. “It would be kinder in the long run. But losing you would-”

He cut himself off, pressing his lips to hers. His hands immediately went to her hips as he pushed her back to the balcony railing. Secured there he wrapped his arms around her, enveloping her fully, pushing his lips against her in a bruising kiss. His tongue moved along her bottom lip and she opened them for him to explore. They stayed locked together a long moment, his arms around her securely as they lost everything to each other. Eventually he pulled back, looking into her eyes, and said the words she had long dreamed to hear. 

“Ar lath ma, vhenan.” He sounded surprised to be saying it, like the words came up unbidden. 

He turned and walked away then, and she saw his face in turmoil as he left her there alone. 

Her Solas came back to her then, an inscrutable expression on his face. She knew it must have been strange seeing his former self, experiencing the moment from her point of view. His brows were drawn, mouth down-turned in a frown. She reached a hand up to stroke his face. He took a deep breath and began talking, the words falling from his lips quickly as though he had to get them out before he lost the courage.

“Vhenan, this moment…I needed to know the truth of you. I told you, long after this, that I awoke into a world of Tranquil. You alone had a spark of life, a fierceness that drew me to you. You were bold, stubborn and wilful. You chased me, and wouldn’t take no for an answer. You made choices I didn’t expect. You were wise beyond your years and experience." He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. She stood by, her eyes locked to his face as he explained himself. 

“I knew that you had touched my orb, taken the anchor into yourself by accident. I worried, and hoped, that the effect you had on me was only that - my magic linking the two of us together. The anchor drawn to its’ source and me to it. I needed to know if it had changed you, if it had raised you to be more than you were. I needed to know if my feelings were real, or just a strange lingering magic. A mortal Dalish elf, I thought it such a fanciful tale.” He looked down then, his face filled with shame. Her heart thudded uneasily in her chest to hear his words, to know that his feelings for her caused him such anguish. He took another shaky breath and continued. 

“I had never felt as strongly for anyone in my life as I did for you. You lived in my mind, I was consumed by nothing but thoughts of you for months. Far more than an infatuation or a silly crush, I ached to be with you, to be joined with you in body and spirit. I waited for you eagerly, every time I heard you moving about the rotunda, hoping you would come to visit me for another story or anecdote. My stories, my life, I was telling you under the guise of learning it in the Fade. I revealed more to you in those months than I had to any other person in thousands of years."  He continued on, his voice becoming thick with emotion. His expression was conflicted, as waves of competing emotions moved across his face.

“But you hadn’t changed, this was always just you. You were fearless and determined. So stubborn, sometimes aggravating. Inspiring. Always questioning, always eager to learn more." Her heart pounded in her chest then, his admissions leaving her breathless as tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. He took a long moment, his eyes moving back to her face. 

“A rare and marvellous spirit.” He whispered. 

Tears were rolling down her cheeks now, and he reached a hand to softly brush them away. He pressed his forehead to hers, his voice now soft and lilting almost like a song. 

“I saw the truth of it with you that evening. In the warm light of sunset, wrapped around you. I finally saw the shape of your spirit, the bright pure colour of it. You were Hope. My spirit was made to love yours. Hope inspires Wisdom, and Wisdom grounds Hope. They are a perfect pair." 

She kissed him then, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him close. As their lips met she felt his tears on her cheek, and his thudding heart against her chest as she held him close. 

She pulled away then, wrenching herself from his grip. He looked stricken, reaching for her desperately. 

“Then how could you leave me?” She whispered, so low the words were almost lost in the sound of the wind. He flinched as if struck, his face a mask of regret and anguish as she continued.

“If I was meant to be yours, how could you leave me? Here, on this night. In Crestwood when you took my vallaslin, when you took the anchor, when you rejected me just the other night. Why was I not enough?” Her last words had been shouted, her voice straining with the decade of hurt she had kept. She was holding back a sob, her breath caught in her throat, tears properly rolling down her cheeks.  

“Ir abelas, vhenan. So, very very sorry, I can never tell you how much. I never wanted to hurt you-”

“But you did, Solas!” She interrupted, her voice cracking. “You’ve hurt me more than anyone I’ve ever known." The look on his face almost destroyed her, an anguish that looked as though his heart has been physically shattered into pieces. She wanted to take back her harsh words the instant they left her mouth. They were both sobbing then, falling apart, the hurt threatening to ruin their fragile peace. She took his hand in her much smaller one, his wide eyes searching hers for any hope or forgiveness, knowing he deserved neither.

“Vhenan, ma’len, my Solas. I just need to know why, please. You promised to trust me with the truth." Her voice was soft and thick with tears, pleading now. He took a long moment to answer, letting his tears fall in wracking sobs and his breathing to steady. 

“I took a vow in service to my maker. I believed in her, in what she wanted to accomplish. I knew her as Benevolence when I was just Wisdom. We were close, and I enjoyed her company as she listened to me and appreciated my council. She took a physical form long before me, and through our separation I couldn’t see her spirit as clearly. She had changed in that time, she was on her path to becoming Retribution though I did not know it yet. The sort of corruption a spirit could face, I was not aware of until it was too late." The grief was clear on his face, and though her heart broke to see it she needed to hear this more than her desire to comfort him. 

“I was just a simple spirit, naïve and eager to help my friend with their worthy goals. By the time I took this body she was Retribution, and I became something else in my service to her. She used me, again and again. For my Wisdom and my strength. And my loyalty.” The last word was spat like poison, the anger plain on his face now.

“She betrayed me to the Evanuris, who wanted to lord over the Elvhen people like gods! I begged her to turn her back on them. I tried to convince her she could not temper Elgar’nan, that he would be the end of Elvhenan culture. The Evanuris lead the enslavement of our people, and she had helped. Somehow I managed to get through to her. She finally took my advice to heart then, as she had done when we were both free of the constraints of flesh. She tried to make it right and they murdered her for it using my dagger.” His voice was hoarse now, as he continued. 

“I was loyal to Mythal, sworn to serve her for all my eternal life. Even after I had burned off my Vallaslin, I was linked to her in a way outside my control. She made me who I am, took me from Wisdom to Solas to Fen’Harel. She even made this body for me.” 

That pained her, and brought up difficult questions she didn’t want to ask. She remained quiet now, watching his catharsis. She realised that this was not just his regret but theirs, and they needed to make their peace with it now before it devoured them. 

“I couldn’t confront her for the wrongs she did to me, or the wrongs we did to others. I couldn’t move on. I lay dreaming for thousands of years, planning to fix the broken world I left behind. I woke by chance, into a world of emptiness. You were the one bright spark in the darkness, and I could not give you the truth for fear you would try to stop me. I knew you would, and I would not be able to let you. I would have done anything to complete my task.” He stopped there, letting his words linger in the air. He couldn’t meet her gaze, couldn’t bring himself to see the look in her eyes. 

“You would have killed me.” Her gentle words were not a question. 

“Yes,” He whispered, anguished. “I would have destroyed my Hope."

She moved slowly closer to him then, almost cautiously. She still held his hand in hers, and she gave it a gentle squeeze, bringing it up to her cheek. With her other hand she reached out and gently grasped his chin, forcing him to look at her. He was a wreck, lost and adrift. His wide eyes searched hers for something, needing reassurance or comfort or solace. He was terrified, after all this, she would leave him here now alone. 

Instead she did something he found very surprising. She put her forehead gently against his, and just whispered “Thank you for the truth, my heart." 

She had made a choice then. She would no longer be a regret, she would just be Hope.

Chapter Text

They stood together, her forehead pressed to his, for a long while. Slowly, cautiously almost, he reached for her. When she didn’t pull away, he wrapped his arms around her fully, pulling her to his chest fiercely. He buried his face in her hair, tears still silently falling. 

“I thought I may have lost you forever, just as we found each other again. I could not bear it, ma’las."  He whispered fiercely, his breath warm on her neck.  

She rubbed a gentle hand across his back in small circles, trying to soothe him. They had pushed his fraught psyche to the brink, his anguish and regret almost overwhelming them. She had almost lost herself too, but she had needed his answers more than she could have ever known asking the question. They could not move on with each other until she knew the truth of it. 

“I’m here, ma’len. I will always be right here with you, my wisdom." She murmured. He brought his lips to hers then with a gentle kiss, so soft, as if she were a fragile thing he was scared of breaking. She sighed against his mouth, enjoying the warmth of his touch. 

After a time he gently pulled away from her, taking her by the hand instead. His hand was warm, and reassuringly real and she relished the feeling. He led her inside, to what had been her bedroom in Skyhold. As they passed through the doorway he waved a hand toward the fireplace and it ignited, bathing the room in warmth and a yellow glow. 

They’d never been together in this room when they worked for the Inquisition. He looked around, taking in the sparse decoration she had furnished it with. There was a double bed with a thick comforter, a messy desk covered in paperwork, some bookshelves lining one wall and a sofa pushed against another. This was her memory of it, of course. He had never been inside when it had looked like this. 

He led them over to the sofa and sat down, pulling her down next to him. The bed carried too many expectations right now, too intimate somehow after what they had just shared. He pulled a thick woollen blanket over them both, as he put his arm around her shoulders. She snuggled up against his chest, overjoyed to hear his steady heartbeat against her ear. She was vaguely aware that the memory they entered should be long since over. She wasn’t sure exactly if this were real or not, but he would say either way it was a matter of debate.  

She shifted restlessly against him, one last question lingering, but she couldn’t bring herself to ruin the peace they’d just made. But he was too perceptive by half, and without moving murmured into her hair “Please ask your question, vhenan. There are no secrets between us any more." 

She took a deep breath then and looked up to him, their eyes meeting. Seeing the vulnerability in hers he softened, taking her hands in his, rubbing little circles with his thumb. He really meant it, there would be no secrets between them. She braced herself then, and spoke.

“You said Mythal made your body, were you and her…lovers?” He winced at the question, half-expecting it. But he answered it immediately, shaking his head.

“No, vhenan. I never shared my body with her the way I’ve shared it with you." She relaxed then, a weight lifted from her. He noticed too, and his face lifted in a small smile as he continued. 

“She was many things to me - a dear friend, a mentor, a teacher. My leader, my confidante…my betrayer. I loved her when she was Benevolence, and I loved her as Retribution even after she betrayed me. But it was not like this. She was my…creator, she pulled me screaming into this life from the Fade. I did not want to join her, even then I felt it was a mistake. The Dalish myth is mistaken about a great number of things, but it is true that Mythal was a mother to many.” She nodded her head then, seemingly satisfied. He let out a wry laugh then, seemingly out of nowhere. She looked up at him, questioningly, an eyebrow raised. 

“This isn’t the way I imagined this memory happening. I wanted to tell you of the true nature of your spirit, of course, that was the most pressing. But then I imagined showing you what I really wanted that evening, had I been brave enough, instead of slinking off again leaving you alone.” 

“Oh! I’m sorry vhenan, I ruined the mood.” She looked so forlorn then that he gathered her into his lap, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. 

“You could never, ma’lan.” He replied, his voice low. 

Her eyes fluttered open at that, and she looked up at him leaning over her. He really was beautiful, as if carved from precious stone. She must have looked for longer than she thought, because eventually he blushed, the tips of his ears going pink. 

“What is it?” He looked shy, almost self-conscious. 

“I was just thinking that Mythal did a wonderful job with your form. You’re gorgeous ma’len. Perfect”. She sighed happily, her lips curving into a smile, pleased with his reaction. 

He blushed furiously then, a wonderful red rising across his cheeks. He stammered a reply “I used to look somewhat different. I-,well, you saw the tapestry and the frescoes…” He trailed off then, suddenly ducking his head in embarrassment. Still sitting on his lap, she shimmied around so she straddled his thighs, now eye to eye. A smile reached her lips as she enjoyed his internal struggle, thinking how ridiculous it was for him to ever think himself inadequate. 

“Ma’len, I saw you had hair. It looked reddish and soft and…” She began wistfully, cutting herself off when she noticed him watching her. 

“Did you like it?” He asked curiously, his breath seemingly catching in his chest.

“Oh, yes” She blushed.  “I thought it rather suited you. I could imagine running my fingers through it. But, ah - I can imagine you kept it short for a reason." A wry smile graced his lips at that.

“It went away naturally, during the time of my rebellion. I imagine it has something to do with my age, I am not exactly a young man." He laughed dryly then, shaking his head. Her heart thudded a quick beat, considering his words, as she really struggled to comprehend the exhaustive length of time he had existed. 

“But here in the Fade I can look however I wish, after all. I can have long hair if you wish it for me”. He continued, raising an eyebrow in question. 

She smiled shyly then, as she thought over his offer. Then she pressed her lips to his, a quick soft kiss.

“I would love to see that, ma’len."  She said softly, her mouth curving into a smile. 

“Close your eyes.” He whispered.

She did just that, keeping them closed until she felt his hand brush against her cheek. She opened them then, a smile springing to her lips. 

His face was just the same - the narrow chin, the high cheekbones, violet eyes under heavy brows. The soft smattering of freckles across his nose you could only see when close enough to kiss. The scars, across his eye and brow. But he now had a thick mane of auburn hair, soft and straight, falling down to the centre of his back. The sides were cut close, almost to the scalp. It brought him from an ageless graceful being to a young man again, filling her with an odd feeling she couldn’t describe. She immediately rushed to move her hands through it, gathering her hands at the base of his neck. He laughed then, a deep rich sound of mirth that made her spirit soar. 

“You like it then, I take it?” He laughed, raising an eyebrow.

She just nodded, and pulled him in for a bruising kiss. His lips met hers eagerly, as he wrapped his arms around her back. She was still straddling his lap and he pulled her closer still until they were chest to chest. After their earlier confessions, their nerves were fraught. They both needed to feel each other, reassurance that they still meant the same, their bond unshaken. She pushed to deepen the kiss first, running her tongue over his lower lip. He accepted gladly, and she explored his mouth.  Her hands were still running through his hair, him revelling in the sensation, something new for them to share. 

They clung together for a long moment, tongues moving against each other, as she felt her need for him building. She felt him hardening quickly beneath her, pushing into her thigh, and felt a wave of heat pool between her thighs. This man was a wonder, how he could make her want with such a small touch. He broke the kiss then, breathing hard. He brought one hand to cup her cheek, meeting her eye to eye, his intense violet to her green.

“Ma’lan, let me show you what I wanted for this night.” He whispered, his voice low with desire as he brushed his lips against her fingers. 

She only nodded, and brought her lips to his again. He kissed her forcefully then, nipping her bottom lip, eliciting a gasp from her. Without breaking the kiss his hands moved to her hips then under her ass. He stood then, lifting her with him. She wrapped her legs around his waist, her arms clinging to his neck. He held her easily, as if she weighed nothing, slowly walking them over by her fireplace. The space before it was now occupied by a pile of soft furs and pelts.  He slowly pulled back from her, lowering her legs to the floor. 

He reached for her quickly, lips recapturing hers as she stood on the tips of her toes to reach him, while he worked his fingers to open the sash at her waist. It was almost a uniform, the clothing she had worn most often during her time in the Inquisition. Finally the knot came loose and he let it fall, moving quickly to the buttons up by her neck. 

She was working just as quickly, her hands making quick work of his leather belt. Then her soft hands were roaming under his long tunic, feeling the taut skin of his belly. She had pulled her hand back, dragging her fingertips across his skin when he gasped and pulled away suddenly. She looked stricken, an apology on her lips, but he just laughed softly. 

“Ticklish.” He explained, his mouth curling into a smile. 

She reached forward then and pulled his tunic up in a quick motion, pulling it over his head and letting it land on the floor. Soon enough he managed to unbutton her coat, fingers fumbling with anticipation. He pushed it off, and let it fall. Her trousers were next, roughly pushed down, coming off together with her small clothes. A messy pile of clothes was beginning to form, thrown haphazardly in heap.  

His mouth moved to her neck, pressing kisses against the soft flesh of her throat. She let out a gasp, her breath caught in her throat. Then she ran her hand over him, over his clothed hardness, feeling his breath hitch at the contact. Feeling bold she pulled away, dropping to her knees in front of him. Before he could stop her, she reached inside his waistband, quickly freeing his hardened length. He twitched in her hand, warm and weeping for her. She wet her lips, moving toward him. 

He gasped then, in surprise and need. “Ah! Ellana, you don’t need to-”

He was cut off in a ragged moan as she took him quickly into her mouth, her tongue wet and warm against him. She gripped him firmly with her hand, working him further into her mouth, down her throat. He threw his head back then, his hair cascading down his back, and reached out to grasp the mantlepiece for support. She worked him slowly, kneeling naked while he stood, almost in a posture of worship. She wanted him to know the level of her devotion, how much she wanted him to feel his pleasure. She moved against him slowly, her tongue moving in slow swirls as she bobbed on his length. 

Left hand supporting himself, his other moved to run through her long hair. His eyes were closed, his face a mask of bliss as she worked.  He was focused on keeping his hips still, not wanting to make it more difficult for her, as she took him almost in his entirety. He felt her moaning against his shaft then and his eyes snapped open to see her touching herself, her fingers moving between legs as she pleasured him. He could smell her heady scent in the air, wet and ready for him. He needed to have her then. To taste her, feel her writhe under him, hear the sounds he knew he could force from her lips. 

He pulled himself away gently and she let him go, his length falling from her mouth with a lurid sound. She sat kneeling, still rubbing her fingers through her slick folds, her head thrown back. He pushed his leggings and smallclothes down then, kicking them away. Slowly, he laid himself down on his back next to her. He reached out with two hands and lifted her, effortlessly, placing her on top of him. She moved to press her soaking core down on him, but he grabbed her hips and pulled her up. Over his chest, higher still until she was over his face. His hands moved to grab both of her arms then, holding them firmly in place, as he pulled her forcefully onto his face. 

She gasped at the contact, becoming a ragged moan as he pushed his nose into her clit. His tongue started moving, running between her slick folds. She threw her head back then, grinding herself against him, riding his face as he moaned into her core. She’d never been taken like this before, and she revelled in the feeling of him below her, devouring her like a man starved. He turned his attention to her aching clit, sucking it relentlessly as she cried out above him. Her noises delighted him, spurred him on, pushing her toward a release. He felt her pace quicken above him as she rode his face, his hands still pinning both her arms by her side. 

He worked to a frantic pace then, his lips and tongue finding just the perfect spot and pressure. She could feel her high approaching, and wanted to share it with him. He barely heard her voice, so consumed with her, determined to pull her to a towering peak. 

“Ma’len.” She moaned, needy.  “If you don’t stop-” 

He redoubled his efforts then, lips and tongue moving frantically across her swollen clit. In moments he had pushed her to completion and she cried out, arching her back as she rode his face. His strong hands still held her arms, holding her forcefully against him as he continued to lap at her core, the stimulation almost too much. He felt her begin to relax and he withdrew slowly. He loosened his grip on her arms, letting her move off his face.

She moved down his chest, coming to rest over his thighs. They both breathed heavily. He was a mess, red faced with exertion, and covered in her. She felt a wave of pride seeing him ruined like this. She brought her face close as if to kiss him, and then ran her tongue across his face from chin to edge of his jaw. He whimpered at the contact, at the intimacy of it. She licked him again, across his mouth and up his cheek. He growled then, eyes locking with hers. His violet eyes flashed darkly, wide with desire. 

One hand found her hip then, fingers pressing into her flesh as his other hand grasped his length roughly. He pulled her onto him forcefully, entering her fully, driving into her core with one strong movement. She was warm and soft and more than ready for him. They moaned in unison, and she moved to lie her chest against his, her legs locked beneath his. No space between them, as they pressed their bodies together. 

He thrust up into her roughly, pulling her hips to meet him with every movement. Their bodies smacked together with every thrust, the lurid sound driving both of them wild. She clung to him, allowing him fuck her, to take what he needed from her. He was moaning then, his face pressed into her neck. She could feel him shuddering already, slowly approaching a release. She felt him begin to slow, to pull back as he always did and she moved quickly then. 

She grabbed both of his hands, bringing them above his head, and pinned them there. Then she sat forward and began to ride him, frantically. The breath escaped him forcefully, gasping. He pushed his head back into the pillow, his hair splayed back behind him. He managed to find his voice then, coming out as a ragged gasp, a warning. 

“Ma’lan, I’m so near-” 

“Good.” She gasped, continuing her frantic pace, pushing his wrists tightly into the furs above his head. Each roll of her hips brought him to her most sensitive spot, and soon she was contracting around him, fucking him through her release as she moaned above him. He’d lost control then, whimpering under her, his eyes closed. 

“Nuvenan rosa’da’din, ma’lan. Please.” He begged, his voice ragged. Her eyes were tightly closed, fiercely riding him toward his completion. 

“Rosa’da’din in’em. Leave me full of you, ma’len.” She whispered into his ear, bracing herself against him as she moved. She felt him tighten then, his hips bucking erratically, and she let go of his hands. He quickly encircled her in his arms, pulling her tight to him just as he spilled his seed inside her, gasping breathlessly. She continued to move, drawing the last of his release from him, before she collapsed on him spent. 

After a long while she moved from him, coming to lay beside him. They both rolled onto their side, facing the warmth of the fireplace. He pulled her close to him, and snaked a protective arm around her middle. He buried his face in the curve of her neck, his breath warm on her skin. They lay in comfortable silence for a long while. She listened to his breathing slow, feeling the thudding of his heart slow to a gentle thump. His hands were warm and real against her, tracing circles in the soft flesh of her belly.

Her mind wandered, curious. This had felt so real, the two of them together. This couldn’t possibly just be their spirits entangled, their real bodies lying elsewhere in the Fade. The question passed her lips before she realised she had asked it. 

“Vhenan, was this real?” She asked softly. He took a long moment, thinking it over. He ran one thoughtful hand through his hair, a strange new gesture to her but one she enjoyed. 

“I believe so. Physical beings dreaming in the Fade is not a common occurrence. I’m afraid I’ve not much knowledge to share about its intricacies. But I believe I felt a minute shift in the fabric of the Fade here, after the…other version of me left. I think, perhaps our intense emotions manifested this to be our reality. I don’t believe we can wake up from here, I believe we are here."

She just murmured in agreement, stretching against him indulgently. She rolled over then, to face him. He pressed his lips softly to her forehead, treasuring her. 

“Let’s go home, ma’len. We’ve both seen all we need to here.” 

Chapter Text

The next weeks or months passed slowly, the two of them having fallen into an easy routine. Without secrets or outside pressures, it was so easy for them to just love each other.  Their closeness was so natural, they could be comfortable together without speaking a word. To be together was to be with their other half, to feel whole and real.

It was impossible for her to follow the passage of time here in the Fade, and she supposed it didn’t matter all too much. There was no time limit or expiration date to their visit, they both knew they had an eternity together to share. They had filled their days with long conversations and easy silences, taking meals together, and retiring to their bedchamber in the evenings.  

Solas had filled in the gaps of her imperfect recollection of the Lighthouse, so it stood fully realised, a new home for them both. He had even painstakingly recreated the library of his memory, so every book he’d ever etched into his mind was present. More still were the thousands of tomes dedicated to his memories, both before the Veil and after, during his time spent in uthenera.

Their evenings, if one could call them that, were often spent cuddled up on the overstuffed sofa in the library. Her laying against his chest, with him perusing some esoteric tome. Sometimes he read aloud to her, the soft cadence of his speech almost entrancing her. He read to her in Elvhen, wanting to share his language with her, a gift she gladly accepted. Other times they sat in silence, the only sound between them their steady breaths. 

Some of their time had been spent practising magic together, sparring in the Lighthouse courtyard in front of the statue of Fen’Harel. Her magic was different here, it came much easier but was unpredictable. He helped her work through her barriers, to bring herself under control, and had proven to be a calm and patient tutor. He never grew angry or impatient with her, even when her lightning shocked him fiercely so his hair stood on end. She had made it up to him later, of course. 

Much of their free time though was devoted to each other. There seemed to be stretches of time where they refused to leave their room, lost to any want other than to know the feel of each other. Other days saw them move between every room in the Lighthouse, not content to stay idle in a single place. She knew now the feeling of almost every surface in the building, pressed into it by him in their need for closeness and release. 

They learned the sights, sounds and feelings of each other. Exploring each other, finding what was enjoyed, how far they could be pushed, how exquisite they could make each other feel. He never tired of her, and she never grew tired of the fill of him and his gasping breath. After a decade of waiting they were making up for lost time, and both were happier for it. They fell asleep together every night, a tangled mess of limbs, satisfied and content. 

In all that time, Solas had never been the first out of bed. He was not an early riser. Indeed, often he had to be shaken awake,  pulled out of bed by her to face the day. She teased him sometimes when he was particularly reluctant, asking if he hadn’t had enough sleep for one lifetime. He always scowled and kissed her, not admitting she was right. 

When Ellana woke on this morning then she was surprised to find herself alone in bed. She normally woke up with him curled around her, entangled in his arms and legs. The man always needed to be so close, even in rest, and she would always let him. She revelled in the feel of him, to be in his arms was to be safe. To roll over and find him absent, his side of the bed cold, had unsettled her. 

She threw the covers off, sliding out of bed quickly. She threw on a simple white cotton dress, belting it about her waist. She made her way to the portal leading to the music room, stepping through the brilliant blue light. She heard it first, a gentle plaintive tinkling. A soft sound, barely audible - the sound of music. Her heart swelled, and she raced to step through the second portal into the music room proper. 

She stepped through silently, her eyes searching for him. She found him seated at the piano, his back to her. His long auburn hair fell softly to the centre of his back. His fingers were tracing the keys, so delicate in their movements it looked like he was performing some ritual.  

He hadn’t noticed her arrival, deep in his reverie, as he played a haunting tune. To her it felt ancient, tragic and beautiful. It evoked waves of emotion in her, the strength of each one almost brought her to her knees. Regret, sorrow, agony, and a deep longing. Love lost, a tragic goodbye. An empty, shattered heart. 

Her eyes filled with tears as she watched and listened. The easy way he played, eyes closed, how his fingers drifted so perfectly across the keys told her he had played this tune here many times. He’d memorised it to perfect detail. She wondered how often he had come here to torture himself with it. 

She almost went to him then, to throw her arms around him and weep. She meant to, until she heard the music subtly begin to change. It was gradual, a change of key which moved the melody from a sorrowful minor key to a joyous, hopeful major. The feelings plaguing her faded, regret and sorrow and anguish all gone, replaced with a single new one. A shining, silvery feeling that radiated into her chest and left her gasping at the intensity of it. It was Hope.

She choked out a sob then and abruptly he stopped playing, turning to her in surprise. His brows drew together, looking stricken. 

“Oh ma’las.” He whispered softly. “How long have you been there?” 

She went to to him then, and he took her into his arms, pressing a kiss to her forehead. She idly ran her fingers through his hair, still marvelling at the softness.  He had decided to keep the long hair, since he saw it had brought her such delight. 

“Not long, honestly,” She replied through tears. “It was just so beautiful and sad and haunting . I could have stood there transfixed for an age listening to you play it. Did you write it, vhenan?”

“I did,” He murmured into her hair. “So long ago. I must have played it here a thousand times. I wrote it for me, to remember the cost of my plans, the sacrifices I would have to make to achieve them. I think perhaps now it belongs to both of us. You continue to change everything, vhenan.”. He gave her an affectionate squeeze then, and she sighed appreciatively against his chest. 

“I’ve been working on something new actually, for you.” He murmured softly. She looked up to him then, eagerly. He was looking at her with such fondness. Something else also, barely hidden away. She was surprised to see he was nervous . 

“Do you wish to hear it?” He asked, a shy smile on his lips.

“Of course, ma’len! Always, you don’t even need to ask."

His smile grew wider then and he nodded. He stepped away from her and back to the piano. She sat next to him on the small bench and waited. He had no sheet music, no notes. He played only from memory. She sat with bated breath next to him, her heart thumping. She was nervous and unsure why, with a fierce love in her chest. He took a deep breath, splaying his long fingers across the keys. He started playing then, a gentle twinkling tune. A soft melody, almost yearning, which made a smile fall across her lips. 

Then he began to sing, his voice deep and rich, soaring clear above the melody. It was beautiful, a balm for her fragile heart. She felt it was made just for her, to soothe her in her darkest moments. She felt it surround her, like his warm protective embrace. She came to realise that he was singing in Elvhen. So many of their words were lost to time. Their meaning was missing, and yet she understood all the same, as if by magic. She remembered him saying such a thing years ago to Sera, and never dreamed she would experience it herself. 

His song spoke of love, lost and then found again. The beating of two hearts as one, the entwining of two spirits, gold and silver, perfectly matched. Bonded. His hope for their future. His song was a promise to her. She was silently crying then, tears falling down her cheeks as she listened. He continued playing, his voice still lifted in song, tears were on his cheeks too. She wanted to throw her arms around his neck, to feel the warmth of his embrace. Almost feeling her thoughts the song slowly drew to a close, his voice and the piano growing quiet until there was only the fading echo and their shaky breaths. 

He put a hand to the nape of her neck and pulled her toward him, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips. Their tears mingled on their cheeks. Then he pulled back, brushing a kiss across her forehead. 

“That was beautiful, Solas.” She said softly. He took her hand in his then, turning it over to brush a kiss against her palm.  

“Did you understand it, ma’las. What it-what I offer?” His eyes were wide and vulnerable, a deep violet meeting hers. 

“Yes ma’len . I understood perfectly.” Her tone was so soft, so gentle. But her smile shone so brightly, he felt his heart almost burst from his chest. She reached out a hand to his cheek, pulling him back for a soft kiss. She whispered her next words against his lips. 

“I would love more than anything to take an eternal vow with you."

He stood then, pulling her into his arms. He pushed his lips against hers hungrily, delighting in her surprised gasp. He smiled against her mouth, overjoyed at her acceptance of him. She lost herself in the embrace, moving one hand into the hair at the base of his neck and the other firmly around his waist. They broke apart slowly, breathing hard, as he pressed a shaky kiss to her forehead. He whispered then, against her skin.

“I am ready now, ma’las.” 

He stepped back then, offering her his hand, and waited. She stepped forward and took it, closing her eyes. 

When her eyes opened she gasped in surprise. They were standing together under a beautiful glowing sky. The world was awash in delicate magic that swirled through the air, dancing to a rhythm she could not hear. A gentle rain was falling, thunder rolling quietly, the sky threatening to open and unleash the vast flood of the heavens on them. Looking around she saw the grove, taking in the lush greenery, and the stone halla statues that flanked them. The exquisite beauty of the place, and how perfect it was for them. Her breath caught in her chest. They were back in Crestwood, where he had left her. She looked up to him to see him watching her, brows drawn, his face stricken. He took a deep breath then, drawing himself up. He spoke clearly, his eyes locking onto hers.  

“I know this place holds pain for you ma’las, for both of us. I broke both of our hearts here, when I couldn’t give you the truth. I wanted so desperately to share it with you, to unburden myself but I could not.” He paused then, stepping back from her. He took her hands in his, and knelt then. 

“This is not a memory, ma’las. This is ours, here and now. This beautiful place deserves to be remembered for something more than regret. We deserve it.” His voice was soft now, almost a whisper. 

She joined him then, both kneeling together on the soft wet grass. It was just as they had done years ago, when he had removed Mythal’s mark from her face. He was wearing the same clothing, she realised. The white linen tunic and green leggings, the wolf jawbone around his neck. She was still in the white cotton dress she had thrown on that morning. They were both barefoot, and that seemed right to her somehow. 

They knelt together, hand in hand, faces almost touching. Their breathing was calm, both of them ready for this moment. They both started to speak together, the words coming to her in Elvhen, as if they had been waiting in her heart.

Vhe’nan, lasan ara'lin sul saota

Lasan ara'sal, sule ha'lam'sal'shiral

Juame mar shalasha, la ane emma

Juleanathan i myathan na ove min'sal'shiral, i su uth'then'era

Ar lath ma, bellanaris

They kissed then, their lips meeting gently.  The swirl of magic she’d felt earlier moving through her hair and settling on her shoulders. He wrapped his arms around her, enveloping her in his warm embrace as he deepened the kiss, drawn to her like a safe port in a storm. The skies fully opened, rain properly pouring as the floodgates opened. It was warm, like an evening storm in the middle of summer. Thunder rolling in the air, and lightning sparking, whiting out the sky. They clung to each other still, lips pressed hungrily, breathing ragged. 

He pushed her back, so gently, until they lay together in the wet grass. Her back against the soaked ground, his body over hers, between her legs, his lips still on hers. His hands fumbled with the belt at her waist until she pushed his hands off. The kiss broke then, and he looked to her confused. But she just hitched up her dress to show she was bare underneath. His eyes flashed, dark intense violet, and he understood. He needed to join with her quickly, quicker than they ever had. This consummation could not wait. 

He was already throbbing with need, aching for her as he freed his hardened length from his wet clothing. He shoved off his leggings and smallclothes, leaving everything else on. Her own hand moved between her thighs, rubbing her fingers between her folds already slick with want. She brought her fingers to her mouth to taste them as he centred himself between her thighs, roughly pushing one thigh open wider with his hand. He rubbed the tip of his throbbing length along her wet folds, and then pushed fully inside, unable to slow himself. Both gasped, and he threw his head back, his hair cascading down his back. He pulled back, lifting her thigh high onto his hip and pushed in again, deeper until he was fully seated, his hips flush to hers.

He started a steady rhythm then, his fingers gripping into her flesh as he pushed her firmly into the wet earth. His ragged breath was in ear, their chests pressed together. No words passed between them, just their breath and the sound of the rain that ran in rivulets down his back, and fell onto her face as she lay beneath him. He was lost in her, pushing himself deeper again and again, her soft wetness and the strength of her embrace enveloping him until she was all there was. Her arms were wrapped around him, the nails of her right hand digging into his back. Their breath was quickening, coming in gasps, her legs wrapping around his narrow hips trying to get more contact, to pull him deeper.

After a time she gently pushed him back, both her hands on his chest. He looked almost dazed, eyes half-lidded and pure violet. She pushed him back just enough for him to slip out and for her to roll over onto her belly. He knelt behind her then, pulling her to him. Finally, he peeled her rain-soaked dress from her, grass-stained and muddied, and threw it roughly over his shoulder, doing the same with his own tunic. He needed to feel her, the exquisite touch of her skin on his. 

Still kneeling behind her, he pulled her close, pushing his hips against her soft ass.  He pushed his hard length between them as she reached down to guide him. He slipped back easily into her wet heat. Both moaned again at the renewed contact, and he wrapped his arms protectively around her. One hand wrapped about her belly, the other made its' way to grasp her breast. She pushed back against his chest and pelvis as he thrust into her deep and fast. Raindrops ran down her chest, and down his, falling to be crushed between them. 

His breath was coming in ragged gasps then, and he brought his hand down over her to the apex of her thighs. He rubbed his fingers between her slick, finding her sensitive clit. He rolled it between finger and thumb, coaxing her toward her high. She arched her back and he pushed himself forward, not wanting to lose any contact with her. He kept the pressure on her with his fingers, thrusting deeply and forcefully from behind her until she was gasping like him. Thunder continued to roll, and the sky lit up a fierce white with lightning, but they were already blind to anything but each other. 

“ Vhenan, ma’las! Join me.” He gasped, breathless.

And she did, the waves of her release crashing on her as he worked her with his body. She leaned back against him until she was almost in his lap. He thrust up into her erratically now, chasing his release as he clung to her. His arms wrapped tightly around her belly, head leaning on her shoulder. He peaked then, crying out, shuddering as he forced his seed deep inside her. Unable to stop himself he bit down on the soft flesh of her shoulder, marking her as he continued to thrust through his release. She had wrapped her arms around his, holding him tight through his bliss. She reached one hand back to brush her fingers against his cheek. 

Sated, he slipped from her, pulling away just enough to pull her around to face him. Breathing hard he pressed his lips to her forehead, both their eyes closed, feeling the raindrops run down their skin. The deluge had abated now, seemingly sated, the rain now just a gentle drifting mist. When he finally pulled back, he brought his eyes to hers. When he spoke his voice was soft and husky, and her heart soared to know it was her doing. 

“Ma’las, I need to do one more thing for you. With me, here in the Fade, your spirit will be eternal. We will not grow old, our lifespan not measured in years but millennia.  This purgatory I created was meant to be a punishment. Eternal life for the spirit, forever stuck alone with only their thoughts. If you should ever leave the Fade, or even this pocket of the Fade…I am unsure of the effects this world would have on your mortal spirit." Both their hearts pounded a rapid, uneasy beat at the thought. For her to grow old, to perish at the end of a normal mortal lifespan would be the end of him. They both knew it. 

“It doesn’t have to be so, ma’las. A simple enough ritual, I know what it requires. I have given this much thought.” 

His voice was so soft, reassuring. She only had pure love in her heart for him, that he would do this for her. He had a dagger in his hands then. Just a silver knife, plain and unadorned. He drew the blade across his palm slowly, allowing the blood to pool in his hand. He looked up then, meeting her eyes, the question lingering unspoken. She slowly nodded, offering him her right hand. 

He accepted her hand delicately, handling it like a precious thing. Slowly, he drew the blade of the dagger across her palm, watching the blood pool. The irony of him damaging her other hand was not lost on either of them. Then he grasped her hand with his, their blood mingling, and he murmured under his breath. The magic that had swirled in the air before now settled around both of them, wrapping them in a cloak of comfort. A bright, pure golden light that enveloped them both blotting out everything else. It faded slowly, leaving them kneeling naked on the wet grass, face to face, hand in hand. 

“What was that, Solas?” She breathed, her eyes wide and her heart pounding. 

He pressed a delicate kiss to her lips, taking a long moment to enjoy the softness of her. She could feel his smile against her lips. When he replied, his voice was soft as a sigh. 

“I gave you a fragment of my eternal spirit”  

Chapter Text

She awoke the next morning, finding herself in their bed alone again. It was impossible to know the time, but she felt well rested and relaxed as though she had slept through a long weekend. They’d returned from Crestwood the night before, naked and drenched, and fallen back into their bed together. 

He was insatiable in his need for her, reaching for her time and again. She was all too eager to join with him, making up for all their lost time. And so they spent a long night wrapped together, bodies and spirits joined in mutual worship. They made love slowly and tenderly, and they rutted together forcefully, desperate for release. There was no space between them, almost as if they were one body and spirit. 

And yet he had missed the chance of her touch this morning, leaving her alone in their bed. She had a terrible quick pang of anxiety, until she remembered his vow - his promise -  to her the previous night. She likely just overslept, and he was downstairs reading in their library. 

She threw a soft robe on and padded across the room to the portal leading to the music room. She went quickly through the music room and out the circular door to the main hall. She searched for him then, finding him in an unlikely place. 

He was sitting atop a hastily erected set of scaffolding above the door to the courtyard. He had evidently been there a long while, a beautiful painting taking shape in front of him. She watched as he brought his brush up to the fresco, his left hand swirling an intricate pattern in the air in front. 

She had always wondered how he created these breathtaking designs, she shouldn’t have been surprised to learn magic was involved. She had always had a fascination with his magic, and the casual way he weaved through the intricate hand movements. She was a mage herself, but she always felt like an apprentice next to a master craftsman when he practiced. 

She could see what this piece would eventually be, an exquisite window into their vow at Crestwood, where he shared his eternal spirit with her amidst a golden glowing halo.  She felt a fierce love in her chest for him, this being who apparently loved her with all of his spirit. Loved her enough to grant her the gift of eternity with him. 

“Ma’len, it’s beautiful!” She called out to him. He turned then, a brilliant smile on his face. 

“Ma’las , do you like it?” He called back. “I was hoping to have it done before you woke, as a surprise. It turned out to be quite a bit larger than I was expecting. Come, take a look." He pointed toward a ladder to his right, and she moved toward it, climbing up to where he was working. Coming closer she saw he had tied his long hair back to keep it from his face with a simple tie at the base of his neck. She reached him and wrapped her arms around his waist pulling him close. She leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. He circled his arms around her, both hands moving slowly to lie across her soft rump. They stood there a long moment, enjoying each other before he pulled away slowly. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, his voice a soft murmur. 

“I am sorry I left our bed this morning, ma’las,  but I was struck with inspiration I could not ignore." He waved his hand casually toward the half-completed painting, as if it were a simple thing. 

“It’s truly beautiful, Solas. I always wondered how the paintings at Skyhold took form so quickly. I never saw you working, only ever the finished product." He blushed then, a slight pink that radiated from his cheeks to the tips of his ears. 

“They were for you, ma’las. I kept a record of your great deeds, painted them in painstaking detail for you. And me, I suppose, to remember the subtlety of your choices and strength of your actions. You constantly surprised me, vhenan. The shapes sometimes came to be unbidden, coalesced into being without conscious thought from me.” 

She was smiling then, she was always so delighted to hear the compliments fall from his lips. She grabbed his waist and pulled him to her then, enjoyed his surprised gasp when he felt himself jerked forward by her strength. She pressed her lips hungrily to his, enjoying the feel of his warmth on her skin. Slowly she broke the kiss, pulling back gently.

“I would love to watch you work, ma’len." She whispered against his lips, kissing him gently again. He smiled softly and nodded to a nearby armchair she was sure wasn’t there a moment ago. He turned then, picking up his brush and raising his left hand into a ready position. He looked up at the enormous span of wall he was preparing to cover, inwardly cursing his hubris at such a task. 

She watched as he began working, his right hand drawing his brush across the scene with lazy strokes while his left hand weaved gently across the air. It was like watching a master at work, and she felt foolish to even question it, knowing he had been alive for thousands of years. She knew there would be no secrets between them, so she asked the question as soon as it sprang from her lips. 

“Was this style of painting common amongst the Elvhenan?” If he seemed surprised by the question he didn’t show it, continuing to work weaving his hand and brush.

“Very common, yes. It was certainly the prevailing style in Arlathan. You can find broken frescoes in many places in the Arlathan ruins. The exact method was lost during the fall, and there are obviously not many practitioners alive today who have experience with the style. The grand palace of Arlathan was covered in frescoes just like these, though I didn’t paint most of those." She thought then, about Skyhold and the frescoes he had painted there for her. 

“If they’re so rare, it must have surely been a great risk to paint in this style at Skyhold. A simple clanless apostate mage painting in a lost, ancient style. Not to mention the paintings held a sort of - reverence- for me, weren’t you afraid of being caught out?” He laughed then, the sound continuing for a long moment before he sighed. He set down his brush, turning fully to her then.

“Yes, I think sometimes that I wanted you to put all the clues together. If you knew what you were looking for you would have pieced it together well before-” He stopped short, taking a breath and then continued. “ Before I was finally forced to tell you the truth." He sighed again, giving her a small smile. 

“I need a break from this. Come, let me cook you breakfast”. He reached out and took her hand, and they left together for the kitchen. 

In all, it took him three full days to finish the painting of their ritual joining. She had sat comfortably in the armchair keeping him company, discussing his time in ancient Arlathan for the most part. She had an undeniable curiosity about his life prior to the Veil, about the world he had been so willing to sacrifice hers for for so many years. He answered all of her questions with open honesty, asking some of her in return about her time with the Dalish. 

He worked late into what could have been evening on the third day, humming very softly to himself as he worked to bring the last details to the painting. She had fallen asleep in the armchair, leaning back against the wall, legs thrown over one arm. When he finally finished painting he stood back from his creation, and then climbed quietly down the ladder to view the piece from the ground. It was grand, a beautiful tribute to them and he considered it his best work. He felt a surge of pride at what he’d done - for her, and for them. 

He climbed back up the ladder, intending to show her the finished work but he was struck by how comfortable and content she looked. Instead, he scooped her up gently and carried her back to their bed.  She awoke as they passed through the portal into their bedchamber, her eyes fluttering open. She took in his beautiful face from below, his full lips and narrow chin and his violet eyes. His eyes met hers, and he leaned down to press his lips to hers. 

“Ar lath ma, ma’las.” He murmured

“Bellanaris, ma’len." She replied

In the Lighthouse of true fade, the eluvian shimmered as two figures stepped through. A smartly dressed older man was through first, grey hair impeccably coiffed, his pencil moustache carefully groomed, holding himself in a gentle rigid posture. Next stepped a younger elf, grasping his hand firmly in hers. She had brown hair, long and flowing almost to her waist with Mythal’s vallaslin etched in faded red across her face. She had an almost youthful exuberance about her, pulling the older man into an eager kiss as both their feet landed on the dark stone of the corridor. 

Rook and Emmrich walked hand in hand then, toward the big oak door which led to the central room of the Lighthouse. The two had been away for several months; they hadn’t immediately returned following the resolution of everything with Solas and the Evanuris. The two had taken time away together, learning how they fit together in their new relationship without chaos and conflict. They had spent some time working with the Mourn watch to take care of several demonic entities and hauntings, and she had taken him to meet her adoptive family in the Veil Jumpers in Arlathan forest. He was sweet and kind and patient, and she was eager and endearing and fun. Somehow they fit together perfectly. 

As Rook pushed open the door to the main hall, she was immediately struck by something new. Something she was absolutely certain had not been there before. Above the big double doors leading to the courtyard there was an enormous, elaborate fresco. It was painted in breathtaking detail by an expert hand, and both of them stopped in astonishment to see it there. 

There was a beautiful dark sky, and a vibrant greenery of trees and shrubs with raindrops still clinging to their leaves. In the foreground were two elves, naked and kneeling, facing each other, forehead to forehead almost touching. They held each other’s hands, her right hand and his left a bloodied mess. A gentle golden light swirled around them as if by magic. She gasped low in surprise and awe of it, looking at Emmrich with a question on her lips. 

“Emmrich…how is this here? Are they here? Should we look for them?” Rook looked around the room then, as if she’d spy them cuddled up on the sofa. 

He rubbed a hand across his jaw, thinking. He was not an expert specifically on the Fade prison Solas had designed but he did have a comprehensive working knowledge of the greater Fade. It was not unusual for powerful emotions to become manifest in the Fade, that was exactly how demons came to dreamers. He reached out his mind to the greater Fade and searched for them, but their spirits were not nearby. 

The painting looked like a joining ceremony, the two of them taking a sacred vow. He felt as though he were looking at something very significant and very private, and he knew this had not been manifested here on purpose. They had not intended to manifest this here for others to see. His assumption then was that this painting appeared in the true Fade due to a sheer intensity of emotion. He told Rook his suspicions, and she just nodded. 

“Makes sense, they seemed pretty intense about each other. She mentioned something about his love being a bonfire that could burn against her, it was pretty hefty stuff. Honestly, after all he did to me and everyone else I was about to fight him when he turned his back at the Fade tear. And then she showed up after all that time and he was like a completely different person immediately, I couldn’t believe it. It was like he was broken in front of her."

“Love has a way of doing that, dearest.” He said softly, pulling her gently by the hand so he could place a soft kiss on her lips. 

Ellana awoke slowly, his arm wrapped around her soft belly as it often was. Since their vows weeks ago his need for her touch had only increased, his hands always on her with his constant desire for contact. She stretched luxuriously, enjoying the feel of his warm hands and his soft breath in the curve of her neck. She lay there a long time, her eyes closed, revelling in his touch. She pushed her soft rump against his hips, enjoying the small moan he made in his sleep. She never tired of hearing the noises he made for her. 

Eventually she became vaguely aware of a gentle buzzing noise, or rather a buzzing feeling, directly above her belly. She opened her eyes finally and gasped in shock, shaking Solas fiercely awake. 

“Ma’las, what is-” His grogginess immediately vanished when he saw what was floating above her. It was a wisp. Her voice was shocked, almost panicky when she finally figured out what to say.

“What-who is it, ma’len? How are they even here?” She pushed herself up in their bed, looking to him for reassurance. 

Solas looked contemplative then, his brows drawn together. He didn’t immediately move, focusing his attention on the wisp floating in front of her. To her, it seemed like he was silently communicating with it, receiving answers to his wordless questions. After a long while he sighed with relief, relaxing somewhat, turning to her with a gentle smile. He reached out and drew his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close and pressing a kiss to her forehead. 

“It is alright, ma’las, they mean no harm. They are only a spirit of Curiosity. They say they were drawn here by us. I am not exactly sure how they have breached this prison, I designed it to be impregnable…”. He trailed off, his tone uncertain. 

She regarded the wisp, the tiny floating speck of blue light that she knew was her minds’ simple understanding of the spirit. She had a thought then and reached out her mind toward the wisp, toward Curiosity, and tried to project the idea of a warm welcome. Curiosity replied then. It was less a voice and more a feeling, flashing images, and series of colours that arranged together all provided meaning. It was a warm yellow feeling that sank into her chest, Curiosity saying hello. 

“Oh!” She gasped softly, turning her face to Solas. “They replied to me, vhenan. I could understand them.” 

He smiled encouragingly, before saying softly “It is easier here, in the Fade. Barely an effort to understand spirits, without the interference from the Veil.” His face fell a little, then he steeled himself. 

“But the Veil stands, and it always will now, tied to my life force." He looked at her sharply then, as if suddenly realising something. She took in his panicked expression, and reached a hand to his face.

“What is ma’len?” He swallowed heavily, choosing his next words carefully. 

“The Veil isn’t just tied to my lifeforce any more. I gave you a fragment of my eternal spirit, the Veil is tied to you too. As long as you, and the fragment within you, survive the Veil can’t fall either.” He spun then to face her, taking both her hands in his. “Please know I didn’t intend this, ma’las. I only wished for you to be eternal as I am, if you wished it." 

She pulled him gently to her, circling her arms around his neck and pressing her chest against his. 

“It’s alright, my heart. This is exactly what I want." She whispered against his pale neck. He put his hand to her chin then, tilting her face toward him. He kissed her then, brushing his lips across hers gently. He pulled back when Curiosity came between them to hover by her ear. Solas straightened up then, loosening his grip on her just slightly. He addressed Curiosity then, speaking aloud for her benefit as he pushed the same thoughts toward the spirit with his mind. 

“How did you come to be in this place, Curiosity?” 

Curiosity seemed to consider the question a long moment, before the answer came to the both of them in their minds. 

“Drawn by her, by him, by them. New emotions here, never allowed. Only dark regrets, but now shining silver Hope. And something else.” 

Curiosity hovered in front of her as they communicated, sharing their thoughts with the both of them. She almost sensed a frown, a flash of deep black uncertainty from the spirit before it was gone and she thought she must have imagined it. Curiosity continued then, speaking into their minds. 

“A steel cage made for the deserving but holding others, not fit for their purpose. A gap, so tiny! But what on the other side? Had to know!” 

They both gasped then, turning to each other. 

The impregnable prison, this personal purgatory he had made to keep the Evanuris, had a gap in its boundary large enough for a spirit to squeeze through. 

Their prison was breaking down, so many thousands of years earlier than expected. Torn apart by their love and the promise of Hope. 

Chapter Text

Her eyes widened in surprise as she held his gaze, startling violet and intense. His brows raised high in shock, unbelieving. He was speechless. When her voice came it to him it was like being underwater and far away, unable to penetrate the hazy surprise that hung around him.  

"Solas, ma'len? Does this mean-" She stopped abruptly, chewing her lip in thought. "If spirits can enter this pocket of the Fade then surely we can leave the same way?" Her voice was breathy and hopeful, almost yearning.  Curiosity had drifted slowly to hover gently by her side now, seemingly content to observe them silently. Solas seemed to take an age to consider, finally drawing his brows together and taking a breath.  

"I honestly do not know, ma'las . It may be so." His tone was uncertain, unconvinced. He took a deep breath before he continued, his tone low.  "You are not stuck here, vhenan, I know this much.  I believe you could have left this place any time if you wanted. You were never bound here by your regrets. It is one of the things I so adore of you,  you are headstrong and wilful. You confront your issues, you do not shy from them as I have." His lips pulled together in a frown, the shame written plainly on his face.  

She found her way into his lap then, her legs wrapped around his waist and her arms around his neck. She pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, and he circled his arms around her pulling her tight to him. He savoured the moment a long time, before pulling back and sighing heavily.  

"Ma'las, I believe there is work I have to finish here if we are ever to leave this place together. There are things I have done which I have pushed away from me, set adrift far away that I may never have to see them. Where I never have to confront the dark spaces of my spirit, black scars left where I hurt the people I loved."  

Tears stood in his eyes, and he hung his head, even now trying to hide from her. She placed her hands so gently on either side of his face, pulling his gaze back to hers. Softly she ran a finger along the new silvery scar across his eye. She was so close he could feel her warm breath on his skin.  

"Some scars carry importance, a mark of deeds great and terrible" Her voice was barely a whisper, as she quoted his own words to him.  

His tears fell then, splashing onto her hands as she brushed them away gently with her thumbs. Her lips met his with a gentle kiss as she murmured against his lips. "As in all things ma'len, we will do this together."  

She found herself standing in a grand, opulent corridor made of white marble. The ceilings were so high she wondered how they had even been built, marble carved into intricate designs above each window and arched doorway. Statues stood in alcoves, monuments to Gods and deeds, gilded in gold.  Beautifully dressed people swanned about, elaborate masks covering their faces, deep in whispered conversation with a lover or confidante. She could almost feel the emotion in the air, the anticipation, the tension of it. She remembered this place clearly, and she searched for him, finding him right where she had expected.  

He was casually leaning against a marble and gold statue of a Goddess, his hands clasped together, softly silhouetted by the golden glow from the window behind him. He was wearing the outfit that Josephine had chosen for them all that evening, a formal uniform of sorts, in red with golden detail. She remembered the first time she saw it on him, so used to seeing him informal and casual and plain. It had set her heart aflutter, wanting in equal parts to pull him close for a kiss and pull that deep blue sash loose and rip the buttons from his coat.  

She was startled from her reverie when she saw herself pass by, almost at a jog, in her eagerness to speak to him. She was in his memory, she realised, not her own. She remembered he had not been in the vestibule or the grand ballroom. She had searched for him, and eventually found him here.  

"I do adore the heady blend of power, intrigue, danger and sex that permeates these events."  

His words had shocked her. He looked so at ease, so at home here in the grand palace. Enjoying himself in spite of the truth of place, the dark bigotry of the people. At the time she was so shaken, how could he possibly be comfortable here amongst all the Orlesian finery? This man, a clanless Elven apostate, how could he possibly find this fun? Even slightly drunk, which he clearly was.  When she selected him to come with her on this mission it was a simple selfish desire, a vain hope that perhaps they could share a moment of closeness together in opulence. But here he was, enjoying himself already, and she just had to smile.  

Memory her continued, surprised. "You seem more comfortable with a fancy Orlesian ball than I would have expected." 

"I have seen countless such displays in my journeys into the Fade." She winced at the half-truth. He had seen things such as this in the Fade, but he had also lived it long ago. As one of Mythal's chosen, in his youth, in ancient Arlathan.  

He continued smoothly. "The powerful have always been the same. Only the costumes change."

"Have you encountered any troubles with the nobles?" Her tone had been tinged with concern then, despite his casual posture she had worried for his comfort.  His tone was thoughtful, as he continued.

"The Orlesians do not quite know what to make of me. I have kept to myself for fear of giving them some purchase to cling to." His eyes brightened then, and he smiled a dazzling smile.  

"The food and drink are excellent, however! And the servants have been happy to refill my glass." Inwardly she laughed, he’d obviously filled his glass several times before she’d arrived.  His memory of her fidgeted slightly then, pulling down the hem of her crimson jacket.

"Do you have any interest in dancing?" She asked, almost shyly.  

"A great deal!" He replied immediately. "Although dancing with an elven apostate would win you few favours with the court. Perhaps once our business here is done?"  

She smiled then, and turned saying "I'll be back." 

"Hunt well!" He called over her shoulder.  

As the dream version of her left she went to him, taking hold of one of his hands.  

"You were so different here, so relaxed and at ease. For a long time I thought you were just drunk, but with what I know now - this was a glimpse into the real you wasn't it? To how you used to be, in your youth. I remember when we finally came home from Halamshiral, I came to you in the rotunda. You mentioned how much you enjoyed it, how much you missed court intrigue. I was so thrown for a moment, how could you possibly miss something like that. It was the only time I ever felt you were upset with me for asking you a question." 

He brought her hand to his lips, brushing a gentle kiss across her fingers.  

"I was upset, but not with you. I was upset with myself for nearly giving myself away. In the thousands of years I had lived and worked, and the countless lies and half-truths I had told I had never been caught out. And here you were, too curious and clever by half, catching me in a lie without even knowing it." He chuckled softly then, taking a breath before moving on.  

"This is not the main reason I brought you here though. This is what you saw of me at the Halamshiral, however I was relaxed and contented for other reasons you did not witness. I will show you that now.” He gave her hand a quick squeeze, looking at her forlornly. “Please stay close.” He whispered.  

They blinked and then were walking hand in hand down another marble corridor, still somewhere in Halamshiral then. He had swapped his Inquisition red for a set of simple servants clothing, looking quiet and unassuming again. They walked quickly past nobles and other servants, nobody paying them any notice.  They made their quickly through the servants quarters, and out through the gardens and across a terrace. He walked with intent, knowing exactly the route to take to avoid the most attention. They slipped through a locked door, his hand waving silently in the air to unlock it as they proceeded through. Quietly then, they walked down a series of hallways, ending finally in a simple oak door.  

He stopped then, considering. He took a steadying breath, reaching his right hand out to rest gently on the door. She watched him close his eyes, concentrating intensely until he felt a release somewhere. A magical ward, she realised, that he'd easily broken. He pushed the door open slowly and they stepped in to find themselves in a plain, mostly empty storage room. There was only one thing of note in the entire room. Pushed up against one wall, looking to all the world just an ornate mirror, was an Eluvian.

A wave of memory came flooding back to her then - his Eluvian in the lighthouse, the Vi'Revas, the network of Eluvians both he and Morrigan spoke about, the Crossroads and how they all linked together. He had used the old Elvhen roads during his rebellion against the Evanuris. He had obviously needed them again, in his plan to restore his old world. She realised this was when he had finally achieved that.  They still hadn't spoke, it was too critical to the both of them to see this memory play out. For him to share the full truth and her to witness it. Instead they continued, hand in hand, toward the Eluvian. He paused there only a moment, waving his hand in the air and murmuring words she didn't hear. And then he was pulling her through, the world falling on its' head, a rubber band around her chest making her gasp.  

Then they were through, standing in front of an active Eluvian, the Crossroads laid out ahead of them. He stretched then, drawing his shoulders back and sighing. He seemed comfortable here, basking in the familiarity. It was obviously a short-lived feeling, as he continued on, wasting no more time.  They walked for a time, his hand still clasping hers, as she enjoyed the feeling of his warmth. He kept his eyes on their path ahead, not speaking. Eager to have this done, not wanting comfort from her yet. 

They came to another Eluvian, looking just the same as the last. They stopped in front of it and he paused for a moment, thinking. He dropped her hand gently, raising his left hand to reach inside the neck of his tunic. He pulled out the wolf jawbone he had hidden underneath, grasping it firmly in his hand as he laid his right hand against the flat surface of the Eluvian. He spoke in Elvhen, a command she didn't understand, and his eyes glowed a bright pale blue. The Eluvian lit up then, and he looked at her finally, the glow fading quickly. He nodded, took her hand, and the two of them stepped through to another world.

When their feet touched the solid ground she opened her eyes to see they were in an enormous octagonal chamber made of black stone. Hundreds of Eluvians, perhaps thousands, stood against the walls, dark and dormant. There was a raised dais in the centre, on a platform stood a singular Eluvian. This one was largest of all, gilt in platinum with ornate designs across the frame. Words written in Elvhen were etched into the metal, almost unreadable, faded away from the passage of time.  He stepped quickly up to the dais, almost dragging her along with him. He dropped her hand then and knelt in front of the mirror. He put his hand into his pocket, bringing out a small dark object. She saw it was a shiny red stone, glowing with a magical resonance. A keystone.  

He held it out in front of him with his right hand, his left hand holding his wolf talisman as he chanted in Elvhen. The words made no sense to her, but she grasped the meaning. He was beseeching the network to yield to him. For a long moment he stayed there, softly chanting, then his eyes flashed that pale blue again and he reached out to the mirror. There was an audible whoosh as the mirror activated, and she looked around quickly to see every Eluvian lit up. This was the moment then, when he had unlocked the Eluvian network for himself. The mirror in front of them was the Vi'Revas, the one that led to the Lighthouse in the Fade.  

He grabbed for her hand then, and pulled her to him as they stepped quickly through into the corridor of their home. He took a deep breath and turned, reaching for the mirror again. He was rushing, almost panicked, as he realised how long he had been away.  They stepped through again, back into the storage room of Halamshiral.

Quickly then, almost running, they moved hand in hand down the long hallways of the Palace, back to where he was meant to be. They almost ran past a doorway before he stopped abruptly, threw open the door and pulled both of them inside. He began to strip, throwing his disguise in a heap in the corner and pulling on his crimson best. He smirked as he put on the hat, as if at a secret joke. He pushed open the door then, taking her hand gently, walking back to the  statue by the window where she would find him. As their eyes met, they awoke.  

Or rather, they came back to consciousness. They were in their meditation room, laying side by side on the comfortable day bed she had thought to have in there. She had made numerous similar changes throughout their home, as she came to realise he didn’t indulge in creature comforts. She stretched and sat up, pulling him up with her. She leaned against the cabinet behind her, rolling her neck and thinking of everything he had shown her. She didn't want to speak first, feeling that he needed to guide this conversation.  He took her hands in both of his, and took a deep breath, preparing himself.  

"Ma'las , when you invited me to join you in Halamshiral I was overjoyed. For two reasons, of course I wanted to see you stand tall against the Orlesian court - to show them the strength of your spirit, and the cost of underestimating you. I had already called you vhenan then, and you were truly my heart, but I still had plans in motion I could not stop."

She laid a gentle hand on his shoulder then, saying softly "We've already been through that, ma'len. It's ok. Continue." She looked at him reassuringly, letting her hand linger on his shoulder.  

He nodded, taking another deep breath. "Halamshiral was the opportunity I needed to take back the Eluvian network. I told you years ago Briala had taken control of a portion of it. An...agent of mine was meant to reclaim it. This was shortly before we met, before I had given my orb to Corypheus to unlock. I woke from thousands of years dreaming to a world in chaos, so much happened in that first year". He shook his head, as if he couldn't believe it.  

"So, I was almost giddy at my success that night. I had secured the Eluvian network and could be anywhere in Thedas moving quiet and unseen. It's the reason you struggled to find me after I took the anchor, I worked so very hard to hide myself from you."

She just looked at him sadly, her hand still reassuringly on his shoulder. When she spoke, her voice was soft and gentle. "Solas, this is about Felassan isn't it?"  

He visibly flinched, his expression stricken.  She continued on, just as softly.

"The agent who did not succeed, it was him wasn't it? I saw him in your memories, the ones you wanted to forget. Show me, vhenan." 

He sighed, and then laid back down on the day bed bringing her beside him. She snuggled up to him, laying her head across his chest to hear his pounding heartbeat.  

"I will be right here, ma'len." She whispered against his skin as she closed her eyes.  

It was dark night, the only light from a small campfire, lit for warmth and safety. There was a bloom around the glow which sparkled in the air, and she realised quickly this was the Fade. An elf sat before the fire, sitting cross-legged in a robe with a pouch of herbs in his lap.  He was handsome, with long hair pulled back and blue eyes. Mythal's vallaslin was on his face, etched across his brow, cheeks and chin.  

There was a sound then, a crunching of leaves, and she saw something step into view. Behind the elf, hidden still in shadow, stood an enormous monstrous black wolf. It's six eyes glowed a dull blue, a shaggy mane of hair ran down its' back. It's mouth was open in a silent snarl. She felt her heart leap in fear, this is what her clan had meant when they spoke of the Fen'Harel. The tales of the Dread Wolf flooded back to her, filling her with a childish fear before she pushed it down.  The elf spoke, back still turned on the great beast.  

"I don't have the passphrase. Briala didn't tell me." Only silence greeted him. 

The elf sighed then, replying "Yes I know. She deserves a chance. And what's the harm really? Why not let the girl try?"

Silence greeted his statement, the huge wolf sat unmoving, saliva dripping from its' bared jaws. 

Felassan sighed again, almost resigned. "I'm sorry. I will not take the eluvians from her." 

The wolf began to move then, stepping closer, leaves crunching with every pawstep.  The elf closed his eyes then, straightening.  

"They're stronger than you think, you know" He smiled. "You know, I suspect you'll hate this, but she reminds me of-" 

He was cut off, as the beast sprang forward and tore out his throat. He took one last ragged breath, and a final sigh and then lay still. The wolf sat then, jaws bloodied and howled.  

The sound filled her with such anguish and sorrow she couldn't help but fall to her knees, cradling herself. She clapped her hands over her ears to drown it out, his regret so intense it pierced her heart like shards of ice. He was lost to it, she realised, reliving it. Stuck in the anquish and the self-hatred and the regret of it all. The memory had become a nightmare they were both stuck in.  He had killed one of his oldest friends, someone he loved fiercely, who stood by him when Mythal turned her back. Killed him for daring to question the nature of his belief; that the world was broken, the people merely shells, nothing worth keeping.  And he was right! Only months later he met her and his whole world changed. If she was real then maybe they were all real.  

He howled still, and she found she had tears rolling down her cheeks. Falling to splash against her tunic, her breath coming in gasps. She went to him then, the enormous monstrous beast. Jaws still bloodied, head raised to the sky. Slowly - so slowly - she raised a hand to the creatures' chest. A gentle touch, feeling the soft fur and his thumping heartbeat. He stopped howling then, the sound fading away to a soft echo as he lowered his head. He whined then, a small pitiful sound. Her heart broke to see her love like this, his spirit rent in two.  

She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling herself close to him until her face was nestled in the soft mane of hair. She pressed her body against his, her chest and belly pressed against his fur. She stayed there a long time, just breathing, not saying a word.  She could only show her acceptance, of all parts of him, and hope he could do the same for himself.  They stood together for a long moment, tears falling from her eyes to soak into his mane. He stood there unmoving, whimpering with blood dripping from his snout. Slowly - so very slowly - he began to change, shrinking down and shedding hair until he was the shape of a man once again.  

Her arms were still around his neck as he shook with great wracking sobs, his chest heaving, crying out in anguish and regret. He pulled her to him then, burying his face in the crook of her neck, letting his tears fall in her hair.  After a long while he finally spoke, his voice hoarse, fraught with emotion. He whispered into her hair, not daring to meet her eye and see the judgement there.  

"I cannot forgive myself for this, ma'las." He gasped, anguished. 

She took a long time to answer, searching for the right words. She pulled away just enough to put a hand on his chin and force him to meet her eye. She spoke gently, not wanting her words to hurt. 

"Perhaps not, my heart. But perhaps you could bring yourself to accept, to remember these things as part of you." She paused then, unsure if he would accept her next words. "Your love for him should not be forgotten Solas. He should not exist only on a canvas on a wall in the Fade. You should carry him with you always, as part of you, in here." She put her hand against his heart then, feeling his pounding heartbeat. 

He sighed deeply, and brought his forehead to press gently against hers. They stayed quiet a long time as they listened to each others’ breath.  When he finally spoke his words were barely a whisper, so soft against her skin.  

"Ma nuvenin, ma'las."  

Chapter Text

They had stayed in the memory a long while, his arms wrapped around her waist holding her close. He rested his head on her shoulder. She held him close with an arm around his neck, while her other hand smoothed his hair down his back. They didn't speak, just took solace in the feel of each others' hearts beating. Eventually the memory faded, and they found themselves lying intertwined on the day bed in the meditation room. They both gathered themselves together slowly, sitting up, turning to face each other with dried tears on their cheeks. She reached out to take his hand, holding it to her cheek.

She finally spoke then, her tone soft and imploring. "Will you be alright, ma'len?" His expression was unreadable, a mix of so many emotions playing across his face in sequence before he took a breath and steeled himself.

"I think I will have to be, ma'las. As you say, I must learn to accept the things I cannot forgive. Felassan cannot forgive me, though I believe he readily would. His capacity for compassion and understanding was always far greater than mine. Even before the Veil, when we fought together during my rebellion, he stood tall against me whenever he felt I crossed a line. He was a good man. I miss him dearly. I murdered him for no good reason, destroyed his spirit in the Fade when he dared to threaten my perception of this world. A perception that would change readily, just months later, when I met you." He met her eyes then and sighed.

“It was senseless violence committed against my dearest friend, all in the pursuit of my continued denial of this world.” He closed his eyes, breathing heavily. It was long moment before he continued.

"An echo of his spirit came to rise in the Crossroads, a bitter and twisted version of him with a skewed version of his truth. I felt Rook destroy it, though I never gave her thanks. If we should ever see her again I will ensure she knows my gratitude..." He trailed off softly. She gathered him into her arms, letting him rest his head against her shoulder. They sat in comfortable silence for a long while.

Eventually she gathered herself and stood slowly. She stretched and reached her hand out to him. He took it, allowing himself to be pulled upright. She pulled him gently into her arms as he circled his arms around her waist. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down toward her for a gentle kiss. He returned it equally gently, as she stroked one hand through his hair to the middle of his back. Then she sighed softly and her hand moved lower, to firmly grasp the flesh of his ass. He gasped with surprise into her mouth, almost pulling back, and then redoubled his efforts. He pushed his lips against hers in a bruising kiss, keeping one hand at her waist and moving the other to fist into her hair at the base of her neck.

He pulled away, bringing his lips instead to the spot just under her ear. She moaned then and tilted her head, offering her neck to him. He couldn't help himself then, his emotions fraught and frayed. He bit down on the sensitive flesh, marking her and drawing blood. She gasped, a delicious sound, and he pulled away licking his lips. Her eyes met his then, dark violet with a primal desire she had not seen from him before. He seemed to have lost control of himself, of the careful façade he had been keeping up even with her. It sent a pang of need to her core and set her heart at a steady beat. She needed to know this, to experience him at his most real.

She reached for him, hands roughly grabbing at him. One hand found his chin and pulled him down to her as she pushed her lips against his roughly. She bit his bottom lip, hard enough to draw his blood. He didn't pull away, and she swiped her tongue against his lip tasting him. Evidently he'd had enough then, without breaking their bruising kiss he moved his hand between them, down the front of her dress. He brought it up between her thighs, pushing aside the thin fabric of her small clothes to run his fingers along her slick. They both moaned as he found she was already wet for him. She leaned into his touch, gasping as he slowly pushed a finger into her, followed quickly by a second. In seconds he was working her to an almost punishing rhythm, enjoying the gasps and ragged moans he coaxed from her. She threw her head back, almost begging him already.

"Please, ma'len. I need you to-"

He suddenly pulled back then, and she gasped at the loss of him. But then he put his fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean while he watched her with dark eyes. He came quickly to her then, roughly pulling her dress up and over her head. He reached for her brassiere, fighting with it a moment.

"Fenhedis!" He swore, and deftly tore the clasp open pulling it from her and throwing it roughly away from him. He still stood fully clothed and she wasn't having that. He moved a hand to her waist, ready to remove her small clothes but she shook her head. She moved instead to the hem of his tunic, her fingers brushing against his taught skin of his belly. He went to remove the wolf jawbone talisman he'd taken to wearing again and she shook her head again.

"Leave it on, ma'len." She whispered, as she grabbed the hem of his tunic and roughly pulled it over his head. She pulled him back for a rough kiss then. He pushed his leggings down, taking his smallclothes with them. His hard length sprung free, thick and ready for her. He grabbed her then, pulling her to him in a bruising grip. She leaned up and captured his lips in a kiss as he pushed his hard length roughly against her belly. He needed for her to know the effect she had on him, how uncontrolled she made him feel. She reached between them, grasping his throbbing shaft roughly, pumping him to a quick rhythm. He quickly began to gasp, bucking against her hand for more contact. She pulled him roughly to her, ready to whisper in his ear.

"Lasa ar’an alas’nira aron fen’en. Take me."

He spun her around, pulling her ass against his hips. He ground his hips against the soft flesh of her ass as as he walked them over to the nearby wooden cabinet that held trinkets and knick-knacks. He cleared the table with one arm, and then bent her across the table top. He pulled down her smallclothes, rubbing the tip of his hardened length through her slick folds.

He snaked one arm possessively around her soft middle, holding her close, and pushed himself inside her roughly in one thrust. She was so soft and so wet he almost spilled himself there. They both gasped, and he started a quick rhythm, barely pulling out as he rutted deeply against her. He leaned over her, his right hand still on her belly and his left in a bruising grip on her hip. He brought his lips to her neck, sucking the mark he had made earlier.

She was moaning wantonly, arching her back against him desperate for more contact. She reached a hand between their bodies to stroke at her sensitive bud but he pushed her hand away, bringing his own fingers there instead. He moved his fingers expertly, just as he learned she liked, bringing her to the edge quickly.

"Pala em elvar’el!"  She gasped breathlessly. 

His thrusts became messy then, erratic as he shuddered against her. His fingers moved frantically, pushing her over the edge. Finding her release she clenched around him, pushing herself back against him so there was no space between them. He pressed her back down against the table top, leaning over her. He took the tip of her ear into his mouth, biting down softly. She gasped, becoming a ragged moan as he pushed against her forcefully, gasping, rutting wildly. He spilled inside her then, his hardened length frantically pushing into her as he held a steadying arm around her belly.

He collapsed over her then, breathing ragged and heavy, eyes closed. They stayed joined a good while, as they both fought to settle themselves. Eventually he pulled himself back slowly, withdrawing from her, his eyes still half-lidded from pleasure. He slumped onto the floor in front of her, spent.  She laid spread over the table top a moment longer, catching her breath, enjoying the afterglow of her high. Their joining had been an intense catharsis for the both of them. She had wanted to see him whole and real and she finally had.

She finally stood, hitching her smalls back up. She held out a hand out for him and he slowly accepted. She pulled them both over to the day bed, throwing herself down on it. He followed soon after, falling onto it next to her. He brushed her hair off her neck and then gasped, seeing the bite mark he had left there.

"Oh ma'las, I'm so sorry. I did not mean for-" His face was stricken, terrified he had hurt her.

She grabbed his face and pulled him to her for a soft kiss, silencing him quickly. She let go gently, breathing her next words against his lips.

"I wanted to see the real you, what you'd been carefully holding back from me. It doesn't scare me, ma'len." She pulled back then, looking him in the eyes. His eyes were wide and vulnerable as he watched her, unsure of himself.

"I've seen the real you, all of it – Wisdom, Solas, Fen'Harel and the Dread Wolf. I love them all, they're all mine." 

He pulled her to him then, circling his arms around her gently as he pressed a soft kiss to her lips. He pulled away after a long while, laying back on the soft covers of the day bed. She came to lie in his arms with her head on his chest. They stayed there, with her listening to his heartbeat, until they fell into an easy deep sleep.

She awoke into a dream again, him leaning casually against the marble statue just as he had done that day. He looked resplendent in crimson and gold and her heart leapt at the sight of him. His eyes found her then, and his face lit up with a golden bright smile. He reached for her, taking her hand in his.

“Come, dance with me!” He cried, pulling her with him down the corridor. They almost ran to the ballroom. Past the Orlesians in their gaudy masks, whispering behind their fans. Past the nobles strategising, and the servants bowing. Nobody paid them any mind as they thundered down the corridor together, hand in hand.

They reached the grand oak double doors of the ballroom and then stopped abruptly. He dropped her hand and threw the doors open, turning back to her with an eager smile. He reached a hand toward her cheek and whispered “This night belongs only to us now, ma’las.”

His spirit was joyous, she had seen every part of him and not shied away. She had embraced the darkest places of him, had claimed them all as her own. He bowed deeply, offering her his hand. She took it eagerly and he led her to the centre of the ballroom. All eyes were on them then, as if the manifestations of her memory resented the deviation from reality. It went unnoticed as the two became entwined, one hand gathered at her waist and the other clasped hers tightly. They moved to the rhythm of some unheard song, perfectly in tune, clinging to each other.

They were a vision, the perfect pair as they danced around lost in each other. Their eyes never left each other. The ancient golden elf and his shining silver wife. And something else between them, brighter still, unnoticed by them both. The unheard melody eventually changed, a bright celebration and they began to move quicker. Spinning and twirling, both of them laughing. Eventually, gasping for breath, she managed to ask the question she’d been dying to ask since that night.

“What is going on with that hat, Solas?”

Chapter Text

Their number grew over the next weeks, as more spirits joined them. Curiosity had remained, never moving far from her, and had been joined by others of their own kind. Others still, spirits of Compassion, of Loyalty, of Love and Purpose had joined them. Had been drawn to them in the Lighthouse, in the pocket of Fade they currently made their home. The wisps had made themselves at home in the various rooms of the Lighthouse, never straying too far from the inhabitants. 

One evening they gathered in the dining room across the courtyard from the Lighthouse. They had prepared a meal, taking supplies from the amply-stocked pantry and working seamlessly together to prepare an exquisite feast. More food than necessary for two people, but the two of them didn’t seem to notice. They were still swept up in each other, so much in love. 

His hands were always brushing her arm or coming to lie on her waist as she moved by him. His lips met hers often, interrupting her as she worked carefully preparing vegetables. Before long it was her turn to interrupt him, pulling him into her arms and pressing her body to his. 

After a far longer time than truly necessary they managed to prepare their meal and she moved to set the table. She mutely laid the place settings upon the table top – gold for him, silver for her. Then she frowned, looking at her hands where she held a third one. She looked up to Solas then, her face confused, showing him the place setting. He looked back just as blankly, shaking his head. 

They both became aware then of an insistent buzzing, an angry hornet that grew louder the longer it was ignored. They turned simultaneously to see a wisp, bright shining blue, hovering in the air before them. They both reached out to the spirit, asking of their nature and who they were. She received waves of emotion from the spirit and a deep amber colour. This was a spirit of Compassion. 

She just nodded in understanding, but Solas gasped in shock. She turned to look at him questioningly. 

“What is it, ma’len? They’re just Compassion, there’s nothing to worry-”. 

“They are not just Compassion!” He moved toward the wisp quickly, his brows drawn together. He reached out his hand toward it, almost touching. “I did not think I would see you again, but I am very glad to be wrong.” His tone was soft and apologetic.

She saw the wisp begin to shudder then as its’ essence fractured into wavelengths of pure amber light. She brought her arm up to shield her eyes, realising with shock that the spirit had taken its true shining form. Quickly the light coalesced into a solid shape, a human shape. The shape of a young man. 

Cole.

There was a single beat, and then Ellana rushed forward throwing her arms around the boy. He stood awkwardly as he always did, his eyes bright and blue under his mess of blonde hair. She clung to him, sobbing, her voice coming to them ragged. 

“Oh Cole, I’ve missed you so much. It’s been years since I last heard of you. You left to help spirits here in the Fade and I never heard from you again!” Solas had come to lay a gentle hand on her back, trying to calm her frayed nerves. Her and Solas had gently pushed Cole toward embracing his true nature as a spirit, but he never looked more human than he did now, with a sheepish look of apology.

“It’s been years, you could have found some way to let me know you were alright. I was so worried for you Cole!” She went on admonishing him, and the corner of Solas’s mouth lifted into a tiny smile.  

Cole spoke then, in his usual cadence the words flowing from him as they came straight to his mind.

“She’s hurt, he left without properly saying goodbye. Been away too long. She needed him and he wasn’t there.” Cole’s face fell, a picture of abject misery. 

“Couldn’t help her, couldn’t heal her hurt. Couldn’t help him. Couldn’t heal his hurt. He took his hurt away, made Compassion forget."  

She looked at Solas then, who had dropped his head in shame. She remembered the moment vividly. She had not known the truth of him yet, but had come to guess at some of the strength of his power. The moment played out in her mind, quickly. 

She had approached Cole in his usual spot in the upstairs of the tavern, he was having a conversation with himself. It was not an unusual occurrence but she had stopped to listen. 

“I’m sorry Cole, but with your gift I fear that you might see the path I now must walk in solitude forever. This fate is mine alone, indeed, I would not wish it on an enemy much less someone I once cared for.” The voice was Cole’s but the words belonged to Solas. He continued speaking through and to the boy. 

“Though you reach out in Compassion, I must now insist that you forget.” 

The boy had lost himself then. Solas had fled, taking the memory with him. He had made Cole forget. He could not fix this hurt. 

Cole spoke again, breaking her from her reverie. “I could not fix their hurt, could not make it better. But they could.” 

She looked to Solas then, her arms still around Cole, and smiled at him brightly through her tears. He looked upon her fondly, his hand rubbing small circles across her back. 

She finally pulled back from Cole, letting the young man breathe, and collecting herself. Solas asked a question then, curious. 

“Cole, did you enter the Fade with your physical body or as a spirit?” His question was pointed, its meaning obvious to her. If he had entered the prison space physically then perhaps they could leave the same way.

Cole thought for a long while before answering. “Entered the world as I am, Compassion. Helped spirits, soothed their pain. Then heard them , too much pain. Agony, anguish. Took an age to find them, too late to help but they did not need me. Searched for them expecting two but found three, something new between them. No name for it”.  His tone was curious as he looked between them, unaware of the truth he’d just dropped on them. 

She just looked at Cole confused, taking a long while to process his words. His speech patterns had always given her pause, he spoke so often in riddles she was used to working her way through it.

The expression on Solas’s face however took many forms over the next moments as understanding began to sink in. Surprise, sudden understanding, shock, horror and finally misery.  

She looked to him then, noticing the internal war he was waging with himself. She raised her hand to his cheek. Her brows drew together, in concern for him and his sudden shift.  

“Ma’len, what is it?” Her voice was gentle, searching. 

He didn’t answer, muttering under his breath words she couldn’t catch. His face was stricken, the guilt now obvious for her to see. 

“Ma’len?" She put a hand to his shoulder, shaking him gently. Cole stood idly back, watching in interest. Two wisps of Curiosity had joined them, hovering quietly behind Cole. A spirit of Purpose had come to linger by her, gently weaving its way around her middle in lazy circles. 

“Solas!” She shook him fiercely then, having finally had enough. 

He looked at her in shock, their eyes finally meeting. His were wide, with unshed tears standing in them. 

“I didn't mean for this.” He finally gasped, anguished. 

“Didn’t mean for what?” Her confusion lingered, her question left unanswered. He looked down again, hanging his head in shame.

“It is not meant to happen like this…” He almost whispered, under his breath. 

She grasped his chin firmly and pulled his gaze back to hers. Her eyes were clear and searching. When she spoke it was in a tone that provoked no further argument. 

“You promised to trust me with the truth.” She let her words linger in the air expectantly, watching him. 

Finally he brought his hand to her face, so gently. His voice was barely a whisper, hoarse with emotion as the tears finally fell from his eyes. 

“Ma’las, I believe you are pregnant.” 

“Oh.” Her tone was soft, a low surprise. He brought his forehead to hers, continuing to whisper to her, his tone agonised. 

“Ir abelas, ma’las. I did not mean for this, please believe this was not my intention. My ritual was only meant to allow you to live eternal. I never thought giving you a fragment of my soul would…That it would quicken, nurtured under your heart." His tone was pleading now, so contrite, as though he had committed a terrible sin against her. 

She pushed him back just enough to bring her eyes back to his. He was too fraught to notice, but a tiny smile graced her lips then. 

“Ma’len, I rather think it’s what we did before the ritual that led to this.” She raised her eyebrows then, hoping she wouldn’t have to spell out her meaning.

He stuttered, almost blushing. “B-but that is not-” He brushed a shaky hand through his hair, and then drew himself up. “That is not how it is meant to happen!” He said forcefully, shaking his head in denial. 

She laughed then despite herself, and despite his obvious distress. It was just too ridiculous a notion.

“This is the way of it, Solas. I know you’re well aware of that.  It’s always been this way…” She trailed off, thinking. “Well, perhaps not always. Did the Elvhen ever procreate naturally?” 

Despite himself he answered the question, unable to reject her curiosity about his people. He took a deep breath, steadying himself. 

“Only extremely rarely with other Elvhen, there was not a biological drive for progeny in an eternal society. Occasionally an Elvhen might mate with a human, or a dwarf. Offspring were only ever brought into being by deliberate and conscious effort and consent of both parties. I don’t know what is worse, to think I deliberately manifested this or that we may have brought a new spirit into this world by sheer accident.” His face fell into a mask of contempt as he finished his sentence, spitting the last word as if it were poison. 

Her face fell as she took in his pain and self-loathing. She understood now the nature of his issue with the situation. He did not have a choice in his own creation as a physical being, and he felt enormous guilt now for potentially having done the same to another. Worse, the unintended nature in the act of the creation disgusted him, the revulsion clear on his face. She put her hand softly to his cheek and locked eyes with him. She wanted to make sure he really heard this and understood. Her tone was firm but gentle.

“Not all accidents have to be mistakes.”

He just shook his head, distraught. 

“Do you think I am a mistake?” She asked gently. 

“What!?” Was his shocked reply, “No, of course n-”

“My rare and marvellous spirit, my Hope – was that a mistake?” She continued, interrupting him. 

He was crying now, tears flowing freely. “No, ma’las, of course not. Why would you even ask such-”

“Because I was an accident! I was born from an extremely casual dalliance between my mother and a boy from another clan who was visiting with a hunting party. They were together one evening, probably all of fifteen minutes, and then he left her. He was killed trying to fend off a bear a few weeks later and I never met him. My mother was barely a woman, and I was raised more by my clan than her. This is the way of things. Life breaks free, it yearns, it fulfils all of its potential at any cost. Mortals live small and short lives, and yes our ways are messy and unrefined. But there is a beauty there, that so much joy could be made real by such an intense joining of emotion.” 

He was watching her silently now, tears still falling, expression still a mask of anguish. 

“Not all accidents are mistakes.” Her expression softened then, and she took both of his hands in hers. “I did not imagine this would happen so soon, but it would be a lie to say I didn’t want this for us vhenan.” A flash of hope then, across his face before she continued.

“But you do me a disservice, ma’len. You take too much credit for my actions.” She said gravely, holding his gaze. “I was a willing participant with you. How many times have we joined together since coming here? Well past one hundred by my reckoning. How many times have I begged you to spill yourself inside me, to leave me full of you?” He blushed furiously then, his cheeks and the tips of his ears going crimson at her casual attitude. 

“This is not something you did to me. And it didn’t have anything to do with your ritual.  Perhaps I manifested it through my yearning desires and my joining with you.” She breathed heavily, her eyes intense as they locked onto his. They stood together a long while, her words fading in the air between them. 

Finally, she gripped his chin and pulled him to her for a soft kiss. His arms came to envelop her quickly, pulling her close. She felt some of the tension in his shoulders lessen as they came together, his heart still thudding in his chest. They broke away gently, a small smile coming to her lips. 

“Besides, aren’t we perhaps getting ahead of ourselves? We don’t know for sure if…” She trailed off, looking up at him. She whispered then, so softly. “Is there a way to-can you…?” She whispered, flicking her eyes to her belly.

Slowly he pulled away from her, his violet eyes falling to her soft middle. Slowly, so carefully, he brought his hand softly down to rest there. His hand was warm and secure as he pressed against her, she could swear she could feel his rapid pulse thrum against her skin. He closed his eyes as he concentrated, his brows drawn down and lips pressed together tightly. His eyes snapped open barely a moment later, finding hers. He swallowed heavily, and only nodded. She let out a breath she didn’t realise she was holding. 

“You change everything” He whispered, his voice thick with tears.

“Do you know who they are, ma’len. Their…spirit?” She asked breathlessly. 

Hand still on her belly he focused again, and she felt his spirit projecting a question toward the tiny spark she nurtured beneath her heart. A brilliant platinum colour reached her, bringing with it a feeling she could describe but couldn't name. She knew he was feeling the same as he gasped, his eyes finding hers again.

“I don’t have a word for this emotion, ma’len.” She murmured, awed. It was the feeling you get when returning home after a long journey, the anticipation of knowing your warm bed awaits so close. She continued, her voice still so soft.

“Have we…have we made something new, vhenan? A new type of spirit?” Tears stood in her eyes as she watched him, emotions flashing in quick waves across his face. He finally answered, his voice hoarse. 

“No, ma’las , not new.” He shook his head gently before continuing. “Old, so very very ancient. I thought it lost forever, destroyed. Burned from this world by Tyranny. He erased the feeling utterly leaving the spirits of them to become unbound and dissolve. But not lost, brought back…by Wisdom and Hope. The first of their kind in so many thousands of years. They will be ours to name.”  

He pulled her close then and pressed his lips to hers. She pushed herself urgently against him, throwing her arms around his neck. He kissed her deeply, hungrily, as if he needed her touch and taste like he needed to breathe. They stayed locked together for a long moment, lost to anything but each other, not caring for their audience of spirits observing with keen interest. 

Cole stood watching, wordless, regarding them with big eyes from under his messy blonde hair. His role as Compassion was complete, they had no need of his help now. The spirit of Purpose which had been lazily circling her widened its orbit to instead circle around them both, almost vibrating with a deep cerulean energy. 

Finally they broke apart, each breathing heavily, his arms still wrapped around her. She looked down to her soft belly, unchanged in her eyes except now she knew the truth. She thought of the feeling again, that bright platinum light and the name came to her unbidden.  

“Homecoming.” 

Chapter Text

After their belated realisations the previous evening they had stayed together a long time, holding each other. Their minds raced to imagine the potential and all the ways their lives had been changed by each other. They had eventually sat down for their meal, the last place setting finally laid in anticipation for the third who would eventually join them. Cole had quietly slipped off somewhere, and had apparently taken the other spirits with him. When they finally retired to bed, they both undressed quickly, slipping between the covers nude. He reached for her first, gathering her close to him. He pressed a kiss to the spot behind her ear, his hand coming to rest softly on her belly. He sighed contentedly, murmuring a soft “ar lath ma” into her hair, and then sleep took him. 

She lay awake for a long while, her mind racing. She enjoyed the feel of him wrapped around her but it was only a small comfort. She held hurt inside, for a simple thing. A small rejection that she felt was just part of a larger issue they needed to confront. For the first night since coming here with him, since taking her vow and becoming his wife they had not been intimate. He was always so eager for her touch, always so starved for her, but not this night. She had accepted it gracefully, respected him and not pushed but it had hurt. Coming after their news, she could only feel that his view of her must have changed. The idea that he only saw her for that now - for what they had created, what she nurtured below her heart for him - brought her only anguish. It took a long time for her to fall asleep, and when she finally did it was with silent tears on her cheeks. 

She awoke the next morning as she always did, curled up with him wrapped around her. His chest to her back, her bottom nestled between his hips, his arm protectively thrown across her belly. She woke before him of course, his steady even breath marking him as being in a deep sleep. She lay there, curled up with him enjoying the closeness but craving more. She had been insatiable, she realised, for weeks. Hadn’t been able to keep her hands from him, craving the feel of his skin on hers and the feel of his taut skin under her fingertips. His hands gripping her hips and his lips moving expertly against her skin. She wanted him, needed him, more than she ever had. She needed to show him that she hadn’t changed, not in the way he worried. 

She slowly pushed herself back against him, her soft ass rubbing gently against his length. As it always was in the mornings it was half firm, and as she moved against him she felt it harden. He murmured in his sleep, pulling her tight to him. She continued pushing herself against him, bringing her hand down between her thighs. She was shocked to feel she was already wet for him, and she moaned softly as she drew her finger gently through her folds. He ground his hips against her then, obviously having been awoken finally. His voice was low and gravelly as he murmured into hair.

“Starting without me, my love?” 

She brought her attention to her swollen clit then, rubbing it gently between her finger and thumb. She arched her back against him, throwing her head back to rest against his shoulder.

“I need you, ma’len. Please.” Her voice was ragged, needy. 

She moved her hand away then, snaking her arm between them to take hold of his length. He hissed at the sudden contact, becoming a moan as she gripped him fully and guided him to her entrance. She slowly pushed herself back onto him, feeling him fill her inch by inch. His breath came out a surprised gasp, his mouth falling open slowly as she took him into her heat. He wrapped his arms around her tighter, pulling her close as he gently thrust the last distance and bottomed out. She was so tight and so close, the friction was intense for both of them. He started a gentle, rocking rhythm, moving slowly against her, his hand coming to rest possessively on her belly. 

It wasn’t enough for her. She pushed back against him forcefully, grinding against him, needing more. She reached up and grasped his chin forcing him to lock eyes with her. Hers were wide with desire and yearning. But something else, he realised with a soft gasp, hidden away she didn’t want him to see. Doubt. He captured her lips then, forcefully. A bruising kiss, pressing himself to her, running his tongue across her lips and then into her mouth. He kept his slow pace, rocking against her. They broke apart breathless, her hand still on his chin. 

Pala em elvar’el! Please! I am not some delicate thing ma’len. I need you.” She all but cried, her voice thick with emotion. 

He just nodded and then grasped her leg roughly bringing it up to his shoulder and splaying her wide. He pushed into her deeply then, throwing his head back groaning, his auburn hair messy over his back and shoulders. He drove into her forcefully, their bodies slapping together with each quick thrust. He brought his fingers between them to her slick folds, rolling against her swollen clit. Soon she was gasping, pleading with him to finish her. But the contact was not enough for him, it never was. She had to be enveloped in his arms when they came together satiated. Slowly he pulled back, gently removing himself from her. He laid back on their bed, pulling her by the hand. He shuffled up the bed until he was sitting upright as he knew she liked, his hardened length ready and waiting for her. His eyes locked to hers then, intense dark violet, breathing heavily. 

“Take what you need from me, ma’lan.” 

She wasted no time, mounting him quickly. She settled over his lap, locking her legs over his, bracing her hands on his broad shoulders. She idly picked out a couple of his freckles there as she reached between them to grasp his throbbing cock. She pushed herself down quickly, taking only a second to savour the feeling of being filled by him. Then she started a frantic pace, throwing her arms around his neck, riding him as though her life depended on it. He was moaning then, so caught up in her, clinging to her fiercely as she took what she needed from him. She was so wet she had made a mess of him, his lap and thighs slick with her.

She shifted then, bringing her legs to wrap around his waist. She sat higher on his lap now and he gasped at the sudden shift, so close to his peak. She began grinding against him deeply, chasing her high, her breath coming in ragged gasps. They clung to each other, her nails digging into his back. His arms wrapped so tightly around her there was no space between them, pressed together chest to hips. Finally she reached her peak, crying out, clenching around him, pushing her face into his neck. He found his immediately after, a deep moan escaping him as he shuddered his release inside her. They sat together for a long moment, hearts racing, eyes closed, still clinging to each other. 

She started to shake then, as gentle sobs wracked her. He opened his eyes to see hers filled with tears and his expression fell. His brows drew together in a look of anguish, and he held her close, as close as before the feel of it different now. 

“Oh, my hope” He said gently. “I am here, I will always be here with you.”

She took a long time, breathing ragged through the sobs. She hadn’t moved from him, still joined together, his arms wrapped around her. When she finally spoke her voice was small and forlorn, filled with doubt. 

“You don’t feel…differently about me now?” She finally raised her eyes to his then, and he understood. That flash of doubt he’d seen earlier was suddenly brought into sharp focus. 

“Never,” He said firmly, and pressed his lips against hers gently. “I take my vow to you very seriously. Juleanathan i myathan na ove min'sal'shiral, my love.” He reached his hand between them, coming to rest on her soft belly. 

“This changes everything except how I feel for you, ma’las. Nothing could keep me from you.” His eyes shone now with unspent tears, wide and earnest. Tears still rolled silently down her face, her voice was still so fraught with emotion. 

“B-but last night, you didn’t want to-”

He sighed, his face falling as he pulled her face to rest against his neck, rubbing his hand across her back. 

“I was just giving you space to process everything, I thought you might need time. When you did not reach for me I thought it best to leave you undisturbed. I see now that was a mistake. Ir abelas, vhenan.” He took a deep breath, and then pulled her back gently so he could look into her eyes before he continued. 

“Months ago I made a promise to always trust you with the truth. Please do the same for me, ma'las. I do not wish for any secrets to be held between us, no matter how small or large.”

His expression was open and earnest, his eyes searching hers for recognition.  She nodded, closing her eyes and bringing her lips to his softly. 

“I promise.” 

Chapter Text

He awoke into a dream, alone in a black void. Slowly the air around him changed, drawing in colour and taking form before his eyes. A beautiful vibrant sky of scarlet and amber, the horizon a far distant memory. He was formless, a golden shining being of pure emotion, the way he remembered. Not constrained by shape, feeling dulled by flesh and pain and longing. He was free, himself, just Wisdom. He savoured the feeling for a long while, feeling free and real and whole.

Belatedly he realised, for the first time in many months, the first time since coming here with her that he dreamed alone. He felt a new emotion then, a tiny twinge of panic, and he reached out for her finding nothing but the vast emptiness of that far horizon.

Then she was there. Tall, crowned, beseeching like she had been. Not yet Retribution, but no longer Benevolence either. It was so plain, so obvious to him now, how could he have missed it? Then a thought passed through, so quick he barely caught it. You would have followed her regardless, lapdog.

He flinched back, from himself and from her. He did not want to be here. Did not want to relive this. He wanted to wake in his love's arms, safe and whole. But he could not. He could not tear himself from this place.

“You have so long observed the world. Why not consider joining it?” Her words were so sweet, beguiling, cajoling. An order, couched in a soothing tone but one she expected followed nonetheless.

“But I have no desire to live as humans.”

The thought petrified him, to lose this world and join theirs. An aberration, this yearning for a physical form. It was meaningless, this flesh prison she wanted to carve for him. To bend his spirit, force it into an ill-fitting receptacle. To dull his mind and his essence, stunt his potential, make him less than he could be.

“I have the Fade. Besides, this talk of taking on a solid form...I think you underestimate the danger. When you took the glowing stone to make your body did the earth not shake?”

His voice was imploring now, low and terrified. He had felt the intense emotions of the titans, their wrath from the Fade. They would not be tempered now, the peace broken, a war would rage between them. It was inevitable. He had no wish to be involved with this, this was her grievous mistake. But she continued and he could not help but listen.

“The lyrium gives us the strength we had when we were of the Fade. We are the best of physical and spirit.”

Her voice was bright, shining with righteous conviction, as if it were her right to take the blood for hers. To steal the lifeblood of beings more ancient than her, to make her more than she deserved. More than she was designed to be. Her tone dropped then, bringing her eyes to his shining golden form. He felt she could see inside his spirit, to the true essence of him where his mind was, the core of his being when he tried to hide from her.

“I need your wisdom, Solas. To withstand the louder voices who would go too far, like Elgar'nan. I need you.”

Guilt then, that was what she had chosen to finally wield. He could not deny her, a vow sworn, an oath that could not be broken.

“This is madness. You must know that.” A sigh, an approximation of a shaky breath. Then resolve, a resignation toward a long-held duty. “I will always follow where you go.”

She held her hands out to him, wrapping her arms around his bright golden spirit. And then she stepped back, into a grand golden space. He hovered there, a tiny spark of feeling, dwarfed by great columns of marble and gilt statues of her and others. The vanity of it drew waves of emotion from him - disgust, contempt, revulsion and then slow resignation. This was to be his fate then. He already regretted this choice, wanting to take back his words, to go back to the quiet easy past.

But she was already approaching, her right hand drawn toward him.

“Come, da'len.”

Her left hand clutched an elaborate gilded glass vial. She pulled the stopper and waved her hand in front of it, allowing a blue shimmering liquid to be pulled from it standing in the air between them.

He was seized by panic then. He did not want this! He tried to pull away, to shrink into himself. He remembered, finally, this was a dream – just a memory – and he could leave any time with just a thought. But he could not, he pushed against the edges of the memory in fear, stuck, forced to let it happen as it had. A nightmare he had to relive.

She reached her hand toward him, beckoning and he was drawn to her. The shimmering blue substance formed around him, moulded by her into shape as a sculptor with clay. He screamed in anguish as his spirit was wrought, pushed into shape by her, constrained in a prison of flesh he didn't want.

And then he stood there, physical, a strong Proud Elvhen man. Broad shouldered, pale and taut. Freckles covered his shoulders and chest and he traced them with his new digits in wonder. His spirit cried in anguish and pain, but a small part of him found some wonder in this new form. He closed his eyes to catch the breath he now needed to take.

When he opened them, they stood in his workshop. She was there, tall and regal. He held the dagger in his hands. It thrummed with energy, ancient and terrible. A stolen power he did not want to wield. More terrible still for the enormous sin he knew he would commit with it. He yearned, even now, to cast it into the fire. To throw it from him, to break it into a thousand pieces and scatter it to the winds. But he could not.

“Have you created what we need?” There was no longer Benevolence, there was only Retribution. Fierce and ruthless, no softness there.

“With this, the proper ritual will sunder every Titan from its' spirit.” He held the dagger aloft, almost begging her to take it from him. “But you must know those severed dreams will certainly be driven mad, a disembodied blight of pain and anger. It is awful, what we're doing.”

He wanted to reason with her, for her to see the true evil of it. To not push him to use this, to lose even more of himself than he had already sacrificed for her. She had begun this, in stealing their lifeblood for herself and now she used him to end it, this war she created with her own hubris. Anger flared quickly and then subsided into a deep anguish. He could not deny her and she knew this.

“It's the only way to end this war.” Firm, finite. Uncaring that she set this in motion, unable to take command of where it progressed, out of control.

He closed his eyes again. He did not want to be here. He pushed again, frantically at the edges of the memory. His mind found no edge, nothing to grip, no purchase to cling to. He threw his mind out desperately. Searching for her, his hope, and still nothing. His heart sank deep into his chest, she was not here with him.

Opening his eyes again, now a pure black void awaited. Nothing but him standing there, alone and naked. Then a light growing, a dull red becoming more intense in seconds as he came to be surrounded. Angry, scarlet constructs enormous and terrible rushed to him. Shapeless and yet made of stone, the scale of them impossible to comprehend. They reached for him, their fingers ripping into the flesh of his chest and belly. Then they sang, and his mind shattered into agony as he shared in their anguish, their madness, the thousands of years of torment which began when he severed them from their physical forms. His felt his spirit almost rent in two, his breath lost from him, his sight pure blackness.

The titans dreams, they had found him. Come to him in a dream, in Retribution he realised. She would always haunt him, always be his downfall. He screamed in anguish, his spirit falling in on itself, trying to lock himself away from the hurt and the judgement he knew he so deserved.

Then his name, called from very far away. But this was a Nightmare, just another thing to torment him with. He remembered his words to Rook. “The titan's dreams are mad from their imprisonment. I cannot kill the blight but I can help to soothe its anger." He deserved this, his just reward for following her, for being her loyal lapdog. For breaking this world, the one she had begged him to join. He would let the titans anger take him if it mean soothing them.

Then another pain, sharp and intense in his mouth. Different from the other. His eyes snapped open, meeting hers. She was there, her hands on either side of his face, blood staining her mouth. His blood. She had bitten his lip, woken him from his reverie.

The red glow faded slowly, the titans dreams banished gently back into the centre of his spirit. He felt the memory of them there, waiting, watching him. He let out an explosive breath, not realising he had been holding it, and would have fallen to his knees had she not caught him. He shook with wracking sobs then, as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him close.

He circled his arms around her waist , pulling her to him fiercely. He felt safe there in her embrace, the now pronounced curve of her belly nestled safely against him. He buried his face in her neck, sobs easing gently and tears continuing to fall.

“I could not find you, ma'las, I felt I was completely alone here.” He gasped, anguished as his pain began to fade.

“I tried, vehnan, believe me. I think you blocked me out, perhaps not on purpose but subconsciously," Her tone was so gentle, soft like she didn't want her words to hurt him. “In all the time we've been here you've made peace with some of the things you've done, or at least accepted them as things that happened you cannot change.” She moved her hand through his hair soothingly as she continued.

“We will find a way to soothe the titans anger, I promise you. We will do it together, as all things. But we have only time to work towards it, to formulate a good plan, before we do something rash and foolish.” She grasped his chin then, bringing his face to her level so she could meet his eyes. Hers were stern, her brows drawn together, upset with him. He cringed inwardly, knowing she was correct. He could sense her worry and fear, and he cursed himself for being the cause of it yet again.

“You must promise me you won't do something so foolish as this again. The titans madness can wait for a time but this cannot, they will be here whether you are ready or not." She grasped his hand, bringing it to rest against her full belly. “I need you for this, don't forget.”

He nodded, smiling gently through tears. His hand still pressed against her belly, enjoying the soft warmth of her. His heart soared in his chest, for his perfect silver hope and the tiny platinum spark they had made together. Then he felt something he never had before. He looked to her in shock, his eyes wide and searching.

She frowned then, asking “What is it, ma'len?”

“I just felt them, ma'las. Beneath my hand, gentle as a breath." His voice was awed, barely a whisper.

He shook his head gently, running his hand across the curve of her middle. He could not believe he found himself here, with her. He never dreamed this could be what the future held for him, never once dared to think he could deserve such joy.

A new emotion had arisen in his chest, for her and this spark and he revelled in the feeling. A fierce protectiveness for this tiny thing emerged, and a dedication. His spirit belonged to her now, not the other. And it belonged to them. It always would.

She awoke then, uncharacteristically after him, feeling his warm hands roaming across the soft skin of her middle. He pressed a gentle kiss to the soft skin of her neck below her ear, and she revelled in the feel of his warmth breath on her neck. He sighed against her, burying his face in her neck.

A small shuffle from the corner alerted them that they were not as alone as they had hoped. She glanced up sharply to see Cole there, just standing quietly in the corner, watching serenely.

Solas just chuckled softly, but she sat up in their bed, pulling the covers with her. He face was stern, with a hint of exasperation underneath.

“Cole, we've spoken about this before. This is our private sanctuary, you have absolute free reign anywhere else in the Lighthouse but this place is different.” She locked eyes with his, hidden partially beneath the shock of messy blonde. He regarded her sheepishly, though not quite apologetically.

“He needed Compassion! Stuck in regret, in Nightmare. The anguish called and he could not block it out. Needed to try but couldn't push through. But hope did." He was breathless, eager to explain himself.

Her face softened then, a small smile coming to her lips. “I know, Cole. It was a wonderful thing you tried to do, but perhaps next time if you feel yourself needed don't linger afterwards."

“Nothing he has not already seen. He saw Homecoming spark, beneath the pouring rain and-”

“Cole!” It was Solas's turn to cut him off now, sitting up, his tone sharp but his face clearly embarrassed. A pink flush had formed on his cheeks and the tips of his ears.

She just laughed, delighted. “I knew I was right, ma'len. It was our time before the ritual, after our vows that led to this!” She rubbed her belly idly, continuing to laugh. Cole stayed silent, blissfully unaware of the inappropriate nature of his comment. Solas just groaned and slumped back down in bed.

She gathered him to her, throwing a pointed look over her shoulder at Cole who slowly faded out. Solas sighed and brushed his lips to hers, marvelling in her softness. He pulled back gently, resting his forehead against hers.

“Thank you for being here with me, ma'las, I could not do this alone.” He breathed softly 

“Bellanaris, vhenan.” She whispered back.

Chapter Text

The passage of time, as always in this pocket of Fade, was impossible to gauge. It was difficult for her to know how far along she was, how many months or weeks had occurred since the tiny spark had quickened beneath her heart. He had been able to sense their spirit, once he could dream of the possibility, but he could not know the length of time or the number or nature of the spark. Amongst her clan this would have been a most normal, natural thing. Women shared their experiences, their expertise, their stories passed down mother to child. She had little of that, remembering only what she had learned as youth, when other women in her clan had found themselves in the same way. Her own mother, so young when she was born, had few words of wisdom to share. 

They were all treated the same, pair-bonded or not, a child the responsibility of the clan to raise. She was sad to be bereft of them now, having left them for the Inquisition in her mid-twenties. She had not returned to them since, too busy with searching for him. She had not said goodbye, before she ran to him and left her world behind. She felt, by the size and shape of her growing belly that she must be a significant way through the process, with perhaps only a few months left. She desperately did not want to bring this being into life here , alone in their personal purgatory. 

As they lay curled together on the overstuffed soft in the library one afternoon he suggested to her that she go to the true Fade, use his Eluvian network to visit her clan. Perhaps she could even stay there for a time, bring their child into her world, safe, and recover before returning to him.  She was not stuck here, she was free to move between if she wished. She had looked at him dumbstruck, shocked he would even suggest it. She would not hear of it, would not leave him alone, ever. He seemed relieved when she vehemently denied his offer, holding her all the more closer.

No, she would not be leaving without him. She had begun to search the borders of their prison in earnest, yearning for a gap or a seam in the perfect grey film. Something she could squeeze herself through, pulling him through with her. Whether they lay intertwined on the comfy sofa, in their bed  or together in the steaming water of their tub her mind wandered to the gap. The only time her mind was not filled with thoughts of their escape was when he filled her, her thoughts washed away in ecstasy leaving nothing but him. She lay tangled with him after, night after night, thinking only of being free of this place with him. She was unaware the exit to their prison was not something she could manifest. 

Hunger. Fierce and pure, overwhelming. He longed to crush between his jaws, feel the lifeblood leak out and wash down his front. He wanted nothing more than the hunt, revelled in it. Stalking his quarry from the shadows. 

He stepped softly, too gracefully for such a large beast. Paws padding softly on the wet earth, making no sound. The mud beneath his claws was so soft, a comfort as he stalked forward with purpose.  His vision muted in shades of grey, but he could smell their scent in the air. Panic, fear and desperation dragging him forward. He could feel their heartbeat thudding, hear their ragged breath as they ran, desperately, in vain away from him. 

He could not see them yet, no glimpse of his quarry, only the forest. The mud beneath his paws, the trees and their leaves wet with a past rain. The sky dusky and dark overhead, smoke in the air from some nearby camp. 

Hunger. Surging, stronger still. Finding its way to the pit of him, a keening need, one that could not be denied. He would have them in his jaws, he would mark them. He would take them, devour them until he was sated and nothing remained.

Quickening his pace now, eager, following the scent and the crashing heart. Closer now, thoughts and emotions from them came unbidden. 

Terror.

“Dreadwolf take you! Please, no. Run faster. Faster! Never stop. Don’t look. Not now, not when-” 

Feminine, low and terrified. Small. Close. Alone. 

Hunger.  He moved quicker, with purpose. Allowing his footfalls to echo now, his quarry already spooked and running but he was quicker. A glimpse of it then, fabric caught against a tree. A struggle, a word gasped from desperate lips. “Fenhedhis!”

Panic.

Nothing else in it now, heart crashing against their chest. Breath in ragged gasps, sobs wracking, a terrified whimper. 

Hunger. Finally reached them, jaws wide snarling. Her eyes, wide and staring. Piercing him, into his being, the centre of him, seeing him fully. Her arms, hugging herself around her belly. His teeth against her neck.

NO

The other part, pushed away and locked down. Pushing against him, pulling back. Teeth still on her neck, lifeblood almost in his mouth. His mouth a silent snarl. Her eyes now closed, hiding her fear but he could smell it. 

NOT HER 

He would have her, his quarry. He had won the chase, she was his to devour. His prize, her heart his for the taking. His jaws began to close. 

NOT THEM

He startled awake, her hands roughly shaking him. 

“Please, Solas! Please wake up ma’len!” Her voice was panicked, pleading. 

His eyes found hers then, wide and terrified, her brows drawn. She finally noticed he had roused and she pulled her to him in a fierce embrace. 

“Oh vhenan, you wouldn’t wake. I-I was so worried you couldn’t, stuck in some Nightmare-”

He pressed his lips gently to hers, reassuringly soft and real. They stayed that way a long moment, her hands running across his shoulders and his arms tightly around her waist. The dream faded, finally taking with it the terrible hunger. She winced as a hand brushed over her and he pulled back, questioningly. He lifted the covers and saw a series of long scratches at her waist, four in a line.

His breath drew in a gasp, and he felt his face fall, tears pricking at the corner of his eyes. He had hurt her, his hope. A sob left him, before he could stop it. She reached out, so gently, and took his chin in her grasp, lifting his face to hers. He finally managed to bring his eyes back, finding only worry in hers. He watched her swallow and and take a deep breath, answering his question before he could ask it. 

“In your sleep, you had partially transformed. I woke with you wrapped around me as always but your eyes were open and glowing amber.” Her eyes fell then, and he felt a great wave of shame and guilt as she continued between shaky breaths. 

“You were holding me so tight, tighter than usual, and you wouldn’t let me go. You scratched me then, your hands looked just like claws, and I tried so desperately to wake you but you just wouldn’t like you couldn’t wake and then I-” Her voice cut off in a sob, and she buried her face in the curve of his neck. 

He could feel her heart thumping in her chest, matching his own, as he held her close. He brought one hand to the bloodied mess at her waist and gently laid it there, pushing his energy toward healing it. It was only superficial, but he knew she would have a scar there, the evidence of him not so easy to remove. He rubbed his hand against the small of her back in gentle circles, letting her rest against him until her sobs faded. Tears lined his face too, as he thought of her and her endless patience with him. 

“Ir abelas, vhenan. I never wanted to hurt you.” His tone was soft, anguished as he whispered into her hair. She pulled back to look at him then, her eyes questioning. 

“What was the dream, my love? What memory was so terrible you blocked me out and couldn't wake?” 

Shock flashed as he realised a crucial piece he had missed. This was not a memory, not something he had done. Not a vision of the past or the future, a pure dream - a Nightmare - which should have been impossible in this pocket of the Fade. He stayed quiet a long moment, considering the implications. It was obvious now he thought on it, a Nightmare demon had found them. And she, his shining silver hope , had saved him from it.  All manner of spirits had joined them in their recent months, drawn by their love and hope and dedication to each other. But another had been drawn there just by him, by his fear of himself. 

He felt a fierce love for her in his chest, and he pulled her back to him, pressing his lips to hers with a bruising pressure. He needed her to feel this from him, to know the depth of his feeling and his gratitude. He pushed it to her from the center of his being, a great wave of emotion that he sent to her, all the things he thought of when he pictured her and their future together. 

She gasped against his mouth at the intensity of it, and he felt her feelings return through a glimmering connection he felt in his chest. Love, hope. Trust, safety, home. Loyalty, reverence, dedication.

Need

As the last feeling came across the connection he pushed his lips back to hers, hungrily. He pressed himself over her, his body coming to lie gently over hers propping himself up on one elbow so as not to lean his weight on her. Through their connection he felt her rush of desire, the heat beginning to pool between her thighs. He felt himself respond and he ground his hips against her thigh with a low growl. She responded with a whimper, bringing her hand quickly down between them to move against his hardening length. He gently pushed her hand away, threading their fingers together as moved his lips to her ear. 

“Isalan dera na aron tuelan,” He murmured, feeling a shiver move through her. “Allow me to show you the depths of my devotion, vhenan”. 

He revelled in the feeling of anticipation he got from her, sent to him through their connection, created when he gifted her a fragment of his spirit but never properly recognised by them. He moved one hand into her hair, grasping it between his fingers at the base of her skull. He brought his lips to hers again, hungrily. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer as he deepened the kiss, moving his tongue into her mouth. After a long moment he pulled back, trailing his lips down her jaw to the sensitive spot under ear. He brought his teeth there, his breath hot against her neck as she tilted her head giving him better access. 

His heart leapt at her trust of him, and he sent a wave of gratitude toward her. Her reply was a brilliant crimson wave of feeling - safety -  which washed over him leaving him breathless. He would show her the depths of his devotion. He sank his teeth into her neck, just enough to leave a mark. She let out a moan despite herself, and felt a rush of heat. She wanted this, wanted him, all of him. He soothed the bite with his tongue, moving to trail his lips down her neck to the curve of her shoulder. He stopped there, running his lips across an older scar. A bite mark he had left when he first claimed her as his mate, immediately after their vows, as he left her full of his seed. 

She moaned again, grinding her core against his thigh desperate for friction. He could smell her arousal, the heady scent of her lingering like an exquisite perfume just for him. It drew him ever closer to the place they both wanted him to be. But he could be patient, and he didn’t want to rush this. His lips still pressed to her shoulder, he let his fingers drag across the soft skin of chest, brushing against the curve of her breast. He brought his fingertips to a nipple, bringing it to a tight peak. She moaned softly, pushing her chest out closer to him. Finally he brought his mouth down and captured the nipple, hot and wet against her. She gasped, throwing her head back, bringing her hands to thread through his hair and pull him close. He marvelled at the feeling of her nails raking his scalp. 

He felt her then, sending waves of feeling toward him. She needed him desperately, needed to feel him, the fill of him, the exquisite thickness and stretch of him. Begging, pleading, trying to break his resolve. He almost lost himself, almost pushed her thighs wide and pushed inside gasping, but caught himself. He bit down gently on her nipple, earning a ragged gasp, as he let his other hand drift lower to hover over the place she so desperately needed his touch. She tried moving her body toward him, pushing her hips up but he held her firmly in place, his mouth still paying slow attention to her nipple. 

“Sathan!” She begged, pleading with him.

She rubbed her thighs together now, desperate for any friction. They were slick with want, an obscene wet spot had formed on the sheets under her. He delighted in seeing her like this, so needy for him. Finally he brought his hand slowly to the apex of her thighs, pushing them apart gently. She eagerly let them fall, watching him with bated breath. He drew one finger slowly along the soaked folds of her sex, growling low in his chest with approval. He had finally let go of her nipple, bringing his lips back to her ear. 

“Always so wet for me, vhenan. Such a good girl,” He almost purred, and he felt a rush of desire flood her from across their shared connection. “So perfectly tight for me.” 

He quickly pushed two of his long fingers inside her then, earning a ragged gasp from her. He curled them gently a moment before removing them and bringing them to her mouth, holding them against her lips. She opened her mouth quickly, sucking his fingers with intense pressure, her eyes watching his. He felt a wave of need, hers and his, flood to his core. Already achingly hard his cock throbbed now, needing to be buried deep in her softness. He took a deep breath, his eyes flashing dark violet, steeling himself. 

He let go of her, moving to gather a collection of pillows which he stacked gently next to her. She looked questioningly at him until he gathered her in his arms and spun her, pushing her gently chest-first into the pillows. She supported herself on her elbows, her chest and belly leaning softly on the pillows as she arched her back, pushing her hips back and her soft ass toward him. He moved behind her, his hardened length jutting out proudly toward her as he paused. He took a long moment to enjoy the sight of her, her breasts heavy and belly round with him, her thighs wet and slick with her need for him still. Seeing her stoked some primal urge he didn’t know he harboured, and he growled deep in his chest at the intensity of it. He came close then, pushing her thighs slightly wider, before burying his face in her soaked core. 

She shrieked at the sudden contact, becoming a ragged moan as he pushed his nose against her swollen clit. She pushed her hips back, wanting greater contact, and he began moving in earnest. He pushed two fingers roughly into her heat, curling his fingers until she cried out. He kept curling them there at her most sensitive spot, revelling in the sounds that escaped her lips. His other hand held her steady at her hip, his fingers digging into her soft flesh leaving nail marks. His lips and tongue worked against her swollen bud, lapping at her core, drinking her essence like he was dying of thirst. 

He felt her shuddering, building toward a towering peak. She started mewling, a needy whine escaping her as the feeling began to overwhelm. It broke across their connection, flooding into him, making him almost spill himself at the sudden intensity of it. He almost broke back gasping, but she was so close and he would not dare ruin this. Finally she peaked, came hard into his mouth, surprising him with a sudden flood of her. Delighted he continued to lap at her, his face covered as she came down slowly. Breathing ragged, moaning softly, slumped forward on the pillows. 

She chuckled gently and spoke then, so softly he barely heard it. “I’ve never done that before. I didn’t know I could…” 

He wiped a hand across his face, bringing it to his mouth to savour the taste of her. “I had heard it was a possibility, but never directly experienced it.” He came to rest over her, their bodies pressed together hip to shoulder. He had not entered her yet, and he rested his hard length against her soft bottom. He came close, to whisper in her ear. 

“I am glad we experienced it together, vhenan. Another first for each of us.” His voice was low again, almost a growl. He felt the slick from her rolling down his thighs where they were pressed against her. 

Still at her ear, he continued to whisper. “Isalan pala na, ma’lan” 

She moaned then, pushing her hips back against him. “Please, ma’len. I need you” Her voice was thick with need, and it had the desired effect on him finally. 

He pulled back from her just enough to grasp his hardened length and situate himself at her entrance. He stayed there a long moment, rubbing his tip against her slick folds, teasing the both of them. Then he drove into her quickly, filling her in one motion, pulling her hips flush to his. She buried her face in the pillows, moaning as he began a quick deep rhythm. She quickly collapsed under his powerful thrusts, pushed into the pillows as he curled himself over her, pressing himself against her from shoulder to knee. He brought one hand under her, to where he quickly moved into her and found her swollen clit. She cried out as he began to swirl his fingers gently, bringing her close to another peak. 

She was exquisite wrapped around him, so close. Every part of him felt consumed by her, devoured by her heat and her wetness and her softness. How she stretched around him, a perfect fit as if he was made for her, two pieces interlocking. He needed her to feel this, and he sent it across their connection, feeling it received when she clenched around him, crying out. She sent back a wave of her own, the feeling of being filled by him, the hardness of his length and the weight of his body on hers. The need for him to press ever deeper into her, to become her and never leave. 

He was overwhelmed by the sensation and it carried him to his peak suddenly. He was not ready for it and he gasped breathlessly. He fucked her roughly through his high, driving into her frantically, moving his fingers against her sex until she was gasping with him. She pushed her hips back against him, milking the last of his release from him until he collapsed against her. He slowly pulled back just enough that he wasn’t resting his weight on her, and brought his lips to her neck. He felt a swell of emotion, love and tenderness and a fierce protectiveness. He would not let anything hurt her again, not even himself.

“Vhenan, ma’las. Mine.” He murmured. She sighed contentedly, relaxing against him. Her voice was hoarse and low. 

“And you are mine, my love. Bellanaris.” 

Chapter Text

In the Lighthouse of the true Fade, Rook lounged comfortably in an overstuffed armchair, leaning back with one leg thrown casually over the arm. She was flicking through a copy of All this Shit is Weird , a bestseller and one of Varric’s finest, published not long after he moved on from the Inquisition. It was more than illuminating, his characterisation of the events both humorous and more perceptive than she expected. While Varric had given her the basics when he brought her on board his team in search of Solas, she found herself dreadfully ignorant when it came to the man himself, the Inquisitor and what had happened before she had come screaming into their lives. She regretted no part of her actions, but was not so naïve to know she was missing so much context.

To her, Solas’s betrayal was so great it could never be forgiven. The lies by omission and half-truths too much, the blood magic and mind manipulation a black stain he could never wash out. She knew Varric’s death was not intentional and she did not hold malice in her heart for that, but the sin of making her forget it would weigh on her. She would not forgive it. And yet, he had done far worse to the Inquisitor. He had loved her through his lies, betrayed and abandoned her when she needed him most. Called her his heart and vowed to destroy her world, and yet she still forgave him.

She still went running to him at the end of the world, her love for him so pure, their bond undeniable. She had fallen to her knees in front of him as he stood stooped over, broken. Her voice was so gentle, as if she had endless patience for him. “Banal nadas. Ar lath ma, vhenan” were her words . Rook had not known what all of it meant, her grasp on the Elvhen language nothing more than a small handful of words. She had found out from Strife in the days that passed what meaning they held. Nothing is certain. I love you, my heart . An inspiring dedication. So hopeful . After all he had done to her, she still had the capacity to forgive. 

Her words had been the impetus he needed, the one final gentle push to let go of everything. To end this sunk-cost fallacy he had been chasing since he awoke, to simply leave the veil be. To stop. He had bound himself to the veil, handed Rook the dagger he had done so much evil with, and turned his back to them. Rook sensed he had meant to go alone, to simply step into the Fade and be gone from them forever. But Ellana wouldn’t let it go, moving quickly to take his hand, speaking his language that Rook couldn’t understand. But she understood the kiss easy enough, and she had smiled almost despite herself to see them reunited, these two strangers she knew so little about. 

As Rook considered it now her eyes were drawn to Emmrich. He was working quietly, his desk a mess of paperwork and tomes as he continued to review what he could of pockets of Fade and the will of spirits manifesting and moving between. There was an errant lock of hair loose from his careful coif and she impulsively wanted to brush it away and place a kiss there. Their love was still so new and they were still learning so much of each other. She had not felt this way about another person before, but as she thought of the Inquisitor and the Dreadwolf she wondered if her love for Emmrich could endure the same. It left her disquieted, considering her own shortcomings and her capacity for forgiveness. 

She was broken from her reverie by a quiet, hissing laugh coming from high above. Looking up the spiral staircase winding its way to the upper floor balcony she spied Manfred, gesturing wildly, throwing his bony arms about. She frowned, throwing a glance at Emmrich who had also turned to look. Rook pulled herself from the armchair, slowly moving up the stairs toward the wisp of Curiosity she had come to recognise as their child. She felt Emmrich move quickly behind her, stepping precisely, keeping pace with her. She heard the hissing voice again, the words coming in a quick rush of excitement. 

“Father did! Called me back and I came home!” Manfred hissed joyously 

She heard another voice then, more human, its tone soft and curious. A boy, or a young man she guessed. She could not see a second person yet, still working her way up the line of steps. 

“Bound to this form, but happy for it? Followed his voice and took shape, willingly?”

Rook had finally made it to the landing, taking in the sight of Manfred with hands thrown in the air in celebration. 

“Yes!” He cried

“It isn’t abuse if you ask. Safer, like this.” The other voice whispered. 

Rook finally found him then, hidden in the shadow, pressed into the corner of a bookshelf. He appeared to be a young man, eyes hidden under the brim of an enormous hat and a shock of blonde hair. Rook pulled the lyrium dagger from her belt, levelling it carefully at him. 

“Who are you and what are you doing here?” She asked evenly, drawing herself up to her tallest. The effect was somewhat lessened by the loose robe and slippers she wore. The boy paused and turned slightly to regard Emmrich, just reaching the landing. He ignored Rook, speaking to the older man in a strange tone. 

“Cares for Curiosity, he senses it. Joy, worry, the potential of the future. Sacrificed all for it, for a spirit? Rare qualities for a human, perhaps needed.”

It was Emmrich’s turn to pause, considering the spirit for a long moment. Rook watched him close his eyes, weaving both of his hands in the air gently in a pattern she had seen many times. When his eyes opened he cocked his head slightly, frowning at the young man. 

“Compassion? A rare spirit, not one I’ve encountered often. Why were you drawn here?  I don’t believe any of the three of us would have called you. That is not to say that we do not appreciate your company, you are ever welcome among us. This physical form is also unique, and it seems to be yours rather than an affectation. Do you have another name you prefer?” He spoke in an even, measured tone. 

“They sometimes call me Cole. She does, and him. I took it when he didn’t need it any more and became him but now he is me too.” He stepped out from the shadows then, allowing the gathered group to fully see him. He brought his pale blue eyes to Emmrich as he spoke again, his voice serene. 

“Was not called here, already here. In the other, with them, Hope and Wisdom. The library balcony more than comfortable, and always away to give them privacy. Felt Curiosity through the gap, joyous and bound, needed to see.” 

Emmrich and Rook looked at each other then, both of their eyebrows raised. They had assumed the Inquisitor and the Dreadwolf were together in the Fade prison in a version of the Lighthouse. They had seen the new mural appear, above the large double doors to the courtyard, manifested through their intense love and devotion to each other. Other things had become different too, over the months they made their home there. Rook had found the meditation room changed one morning, as she went to rummage through the wardrobe there. It was no longer decorated with Dalish tapestries but thick Elvhen ones depicting Solas as a young man and as the Dreadwolf. She had gasped in shock, and had almost dragged Emmrich there back to see it. 

Other things too, some so subtle they potentially went unnoticed for weeks. The halla statue in the courtyard replaced by one of Fen’harel, the statues of Mythal replaced with a much shorter female elf who appeared to have a golden left arm, Emmrich’s tea vanished from the kitchen and a curious expectant mood had come over the resident caretaker of the place. This was finally absolute confirmation, though. They could stand perhaps in the same spot, separated only through a thin grey film of Fade, close enough almost to touch. This spirit seemed to be able to move freely between worlds, though, stepping through some gap as if it were simply a door. 

Emmrich motioned to Rook to lower the dagger and she did so carefully, sheathing it back on her belt. He continued then, motioning to the young man - Cole - as he spoke. 

“There is a gap into their prison, then? As I suspected, it will not continue to hold them together as it would for just him alone. I believe he would have been trapped there firmly, his regrets the lock keeping him in place for eons as he worked slowly to begin to forgive himself. It seems with her he has found a way past them, quicker than I ever could have imagined. They are beginning to manifest here, in the true Fade. I believe before too long they may join us here." 

“They will need help,” Cole said softly, looking between Rook and Emmrich. He drew himself up, continuing. “The Nightmare, blackened Blight and wrath awaits unsated. A third thing too, unexpected but joyously awaited.  Cannot do it alone. Be ready.” 

Then he glanced at Manfred, a small smile gracing his lips in the moment before he faded away leaving them alone. 

Ellana, of course, awoke into a dream. It was his, she knew instantly. She had never been to a place quite so magnificent, even the Grand Ballroom at Halamshiral was dwarfed by this place, made to feel insignificant by the sheer size and beauty and shining feel of the place. She gasped in low shock as looked around taking it all in. A huge circular room, with an elaborate gilded spiral staircase winding ever upwards in the far corner. There was a raised dais at the other end, a tiered terrace with a number of high-backed golden chairs placed carefully there. Two on the top step, one slightly smaller than the other. Then three each on the next two platforms, all equal and currently empty.

The floors were made of a shining crystalline quartz, pure white with lines of molten golden thread running through. Craning her neck back she looked up, the ceiling so high above it was impossible to see. There were vibrant golden lamps glowing brightly at regular intervals, hanging in sconces on the walls or suspended in the air by some magic. She felt a connection to these, drawn to them like the Veilfire lamps she had seen in the waking world. She understood instantly that those were a pale imitation of these, their colour and brightness dulled by the Veil. Here they shone as they should, bright and golden and warm.

She lowered her gaze then, taking in the walls made of some delicate stone with a fine covering of beaten gold. There were shapes pressed into the gold, runes and Elvhen lettering so small you couldn’t read them without being an inch away. She wondered why, and by whose hand these had been painstakingly etched. An exquisitely beautiful but meaningless display of excess. There were elaborate, skilfully painted murals and frescoes lining almost every wall. She recognised the subjects of most of them, the Evanuris were all represented here. 

Elgar’nan , the All-Father, Oldest of the Sun. The father of her Dalish creation myth, golden and crowned and stern. 

Mythal , the All-Mother, protector of all. Tall, regal and crowned. Beautiful and terrible as the dawn. 

Ghilan’nain , Mother of the halla. Golden, elaborately crowned but not alone, looking to her love.

Andruil , Goddess of the Hunt. Lady of blood and force, embracing her love Ghilan’nain. The hunter and the shepherd, together. 

Dirthamen , Keeper of Secrets, Master of Knowledge. Pictured with his twin, the other half, two sides of the same coin. 

Falon’Din , Friend to the Dead, the Guide. Keeper of the Dead, second aspect of Dirthamen.

The final two  - Sylaise the Heathkeeper and June the Master of Crafts. Two she had spoken a prayer for thousands of times, in the quiet moments of her mundane Dalish life, to give thanks for the fire and the forest. 

With a dull thud of her heart she saw her beloved was not represented, there was no towering painting of Solas or the Dreadwolf. He was not counted among them, not counted by them, as he always said. He was not a God, only a man. But she saw him still, in the craftsmanship and the attention to detail. He had painted these, leaving his signature in the magic and the artistry. She wondered how much time had passed between then and now, when this memory had taken place. She wondered if he had been bid to paint these, deeds great and terrible, or if he had wanted to. As she let her gaze wander further she took in the small groups of people, gathered together in twos or threes, whispering. Glasses in every hand, golden liquid flowing freely. These people were all tall, elvhen and graceful. The men were broad-shouldered, the women finer but no less imposing. Regal and rigid and impossibly beautiful. 

A few of them had Vallaslin, gentle lines tracing their faces in the elaborate designs she was intricately familiar with.  All the Evanuris were represented here too, but many wore the all-encompassing design of the All-Father, a whole side of their face blacked out with ink. She idly wondered how many took it voluntarily, out of dedication rather than a mark of ownership. She noted, with growing distaste, that all the elvhen servers had Vallaslin etched above their downturned eyes. Music began to play and she looked for the source, an elaborate full band which must be playing only feet away but there was none. A sourceless melody of soaring notes which set a small smile to her lips and sent her hips gently swaying despite herself. 

She looked down at herself finally, to see she was wearing an exquisite deep cerulean blue gown. It hugged her figure closely, the silk gathered gently around the curve of her belly and stretched tightly across her breasts displaying them prominently.  There was a dip at the back past her waist almost to the soft curve of her bum, the fabric falling gently then to brush against her toes. She noticed she was wearing sandals, leather and laced up to her knees. Comfortable and flat, and nothing she had worn before. There was a golden pendant at her throat, and she brought it close between her fingers to examine it. It was a tiny wolf jawbone, another piece of him she carried with her. Her left arm remained lost, her delicate golden gauntlet there polished to a resplendent shine. 

She wondered then how this came to be, how she was dressed like this, in his memory at all. She searched for him then, her eyes darting around almost frantically hoping to find some glimpse of him. She found him, leaning casually against a golden bust, in conversation with someone whose face she couldn’t see. Her breath caught at the sight of him, and she sighed, a sad smile coming across her face. He looked young and gorgeous and more carefree than she had ever known him. He wore an exquisite golden armoured coat, over dark leather breeches and sandals similar to hers. He had a silver wolf pelt around his neck.  His hair was long and auburn, shaved close at the sides but with a great soft mane falling to the centre of his back. 

He laughed at something unheard, and she saw him throw his head back, his hair cascading gently down his back. Then he brought his glass to his lips and downed his drink, reaching out to take another from a passing server with a nod. She saw his face was free of scars, unlined except for Mythal’s vallaslin etched there. His violet eyes shone with mirth at some joke from his companion, and she moved closer to bring them into view. Her heart dropped when she took in the shape of a male elf, with the same eyes and vallaslin, dark hair pulled back with a tie to the base of his neck. He was shorter than Solas, but more muscular and he stood with a drink in one hand while the other gestured wildly in the air. Felassan, the slow arrow . The sight of him made her heart ache for her love, for how much this memory would hurt when he awoke. 

She meant to make her way over to them then, but as soon as she had the thought there was a burst of fanfare. She heard footsteps coming slowly down the spiral staircase, as many pairs of feet began moving slowly down. Her heart began to race as she saw the first of them. Extremely tall and broad, a golden crown and a scowl firmly in place. He sneered at Solas, a look of utter contempt that rattled her with its intensity. Solas was turned away, apparently unmoved by the procession. Elgar’nan continued, moving gracefully, to take his seat at the highest point on the dais in the tallest chair. 

She was next, tall and dark and exquisitely beautiful and Ellana felt a twinge of jealousy she pushed valiantly away. She looked quickly to Solas, and saw his expression falter. It flashed quickly from mirth, to deep anguish and then resignation. And then it was a mask, smooth and emotionless as he visibly calmed himself. It was so quick she was sure nobody could have seen it except for the man in front of him. Indeed, as she watched she saw Felassan lay a gentle hand on his wrist. A small nod, a brief smile and then the moment was gone. 

That placed the time then; the Evanuris had all been raised and he was planning a rebellion but not yet begun in earnest. He still wore her Vallaslin, and stood here still loyal but conflicted. Anguished over the choice he knew he would make, the rough future he would forge. Again she wanted to go to him, but they were still filing down the spiral staircase, some parade she was apparently bound to watch. This was not her memory, not her dream and she would not interrupt.

The others then, one after another, moving gracefully to take their seats on the dais. Nobody moved or spoke, the servants frozen as if by magic, the music continuing to play but bold and triumphant now. Almost despite herself she felt a growing wonder as she watched them, as she pushed it viciously down, reminding herself that these were not her Gods . These were just mages, powerful and influential but just people like herself. Nothing special, not worthy of veneration, and capable of such horrific evil. Even here, amongst the splendour, was evidence of the enslavement of their own people, whose only misfortune was to be a lower caste. She felt the rage in her chest for them grow until it almost consumed her, a white-hot flash of contempt and disgust that she felt bubbling up ready to burst forth.

Her eyes clapped on his then, watching her in shock. She had sent him the feeling, across their bond, without meaning to. He shook his head, as if to clear himself from a daze. He brought his eyes to hers again and smiled, finally seeing her clearly. He came straight to her then, striding across the room, ignoring the posturing Evanuris on their thrones before him. He reached out a hand to her and she took it, allowing herself to be pulled into his embrace. He gathered her to him, his arms wrapped around her as she snaked hers around his neck and pulled him down to her. As their lips met gently he brushed his hand down the soft skin of her back down to where her dress gathered. Then lower, to let it rest gently on the curve of her bum. She sighed appreciatively and pushed herself closer to him, the curve of her belly nestled safely against him as she stood on the tips of her toes to kiss him.

He brought his left hand up to gather at the base of her neck, pulling her face closer to his. He deepened the kiss, nose to nose, crushing his lips against hers with hunger. She opened her mouth to his unanswered question, allowing his tongue to explore hers. They stood together for a long moment, lost to anything but each other. Eventually he pulled back, pressing his lips against hers several more times. Soft and quick and gentle. She savoured the warmth of him, and the smell of his skin. He tasted sweet, of honeyed wine and she revelled in it. He pressed his lips softly to her forehead then brought his own down to lean against her. They stood, entwined, forehead to forehead, swaying gently as the music returned to a soft melody. They had missed whatever pomp ceremony had been intended and neither was sad for it. 

“Ma’las,” He finally spoke, his voice low and soft. He brought his hand to her face, brushing his fingers against her cheek. “I have dreamed so many times of bringing you here, of sharing this place with you. You are so beautiful, and fearless and real. My wife, my spirit bond.” 

He pulled her face back to his, capturing her lips in a bruising kiss. He tightened his grip on her, his right hand now on the small of her back, crushing her forcefully against him. His lips moved against hers until they were both breathless, their breathing ragged. He brought his eyes to hers, intense violet and flashing bright.

“Vhenan , if we had met here and now I would have thrown everything away for happiness with you. I would have sworn myself to you this night, bonded with you like no other. No single spirit has ever captured my heart as you have.” 

Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes then, thinking of the time lost and all his wasted potential. If only she had come to be so much earlier, she could have stopped the path he paved to purgatory with his best intentions. She changed everything, almost too late for it to matter. She knew the truth of his words, she felt it across the bond they shared. She looked at him, with so much love and equal sadness for the hurt they both had to endure to get here. She idly reached up and traced his Vallaslin, remembering her own. He closed his eyes against her touch, blinking away tears. 

She remembered one of his other memories then, when he was just a shining golden spirit of Wisdom hovering in the shadow of her . She remembered the form he took, looking vaguely like Mythal’s sheltering branches she realised with a pang. She closed her eyes, remembering the intricate lines of a being with numerous elongated flowing limbs and a headpiece with six shining golden facets. She reached one hand up to trace her own face, a gossamer golden thread gently drawing the form in lines across her brow, down her nose to her chin. He watched her, wide-eyed and astonished as she etched his mark upon her face. Not Fen’Harel but Wisdom . Once complete she opened her eyes, meeting his with a soft sheepish smile. 

“I know you don’t think of yourself as a God, vhenan. You are only a man, but you are mine. And I am yours." She spoke simply and honestly, watching him earnestly. She felt his gratitude and his pride for her across their bond, shining bright and true. Wordlessly he brought his hand up to wave in front of his face, removing his mark to Mythal. His bare face now looked puzzled, his brows drawn, thinking. 

He closed his eyes, mimicking the movement her fingers had made on her own face only moments ago. She watched him draw something new in a shining silver thread. Simpler than the one she etched, two straight lines that ran parallel to his brow then almost met at the bridge of his nose before running straight down to the tip. He opened his eyes then, and his face lit up in a brilliant boyish smile. It made her heart soar to see it, and she threw her arms back around his neck and kissed him until they were breathless again. He pulled back, still smiling, pleased with himself.

“I may be the first in existence to wear the mark of Hope.” He whispered, his tone awed. He sat back for a moment, a fond look on his face as he regarded her. He ran his fingers slowly across her face, tracing her new mark. He brought his hand back to her cheek, bringing his lips back to almost brush against hers. He murmured softly, against her mouth, not bringing his eyes to his. 

“If you would not object, I would very much like to keep my new mark. A reminder of my vow, of whom my heart and spirit belong to. Of what and who I owe my life and all my joy to. Var vas druast i'em'an. Juleanathan i myathan na ove min'sal'shiral.” 

“Ma nuvenin. Bellanaris, vhenan.” She replied softly, nodding her head. She just kissed him then, letting her lips press against his gently. He held her tight in his embrace, his arms coming to envelop her completely. After a long time she finally pulled away, leaning her head against his chest as they swayed gently together. When she finally spoke again her voice was soft, barely heard over the sound of the music. 

“I didn’t think you would want to be marked again, my love. I did not mark myself in the hope you would-” He cut her off with a finger placed to her lips. 

“Never. And only for you, my hope.” His eyes took on an excited gleam then, and he pulled back from her, taking her by the hand. 

“Come, I have something to show you” His excitement was palpable as he led her carefully across the room to the gilded spiral staircase. He kept one hand on the small of her back, guiding her forward as they began to climb up. She took the steps slowly, his soft breath at her ear, climbing for what felt like an age until they came to a landing. The steps continued ever upwards to some unknown point high above, but he made to move out from the landing to the balcony in front of them. 

As they came to the balcony her breath caught in her chest, a soft gasp as he took her hand and led her to what had been the centre of his world. She moved to lean forward against the railing and he came to stand behind her, threading his arms safely around her belly. He rested his head on the top of hers, sighing gently as they took in the exquisite view together. Beyond, a great green landscape gleamed under a crimson setting sun. They were high above a great shimmering lake, in a crystalline tower just one of many hundreds of a greater whole. An enormous, floating, glimmering city of golden crystal. Magic swirled easily, she could see it in the air, could sense it floating around her, enveloping her like an embrace. 

This is what he had lost, what he fought to bring back all the long thousands of years he had been asleep and yearning. Tears pricked at her eyes and she let them fall, lost in the beauty of this place and the thoughts of his despair of losing it. She let her emotions flow to him unbidden through their bond. Gently he pulled her around to face him, bringing his hand to the back of her neck. 

“You mistake me, my heart. I have made my peace with this place, its beauty marred only by the people who would have ruled it. My rebellion led to its downfall and still I know I would do it again if it meant I would meet you. Var lath vir suledin, ma’las. I see that so clearly now."  

Her heart leapt to hear him finally repeat her words back, after he so cruelly denied them so many years ago. His whispered “I wish it could, vhenan.” had hurt her more than anything else he’d ever said. The spectre of him saying it had haunted her dreams for years, the real him watching from across a divide as she tortured herself with it. She pressed herself to him, threading her arms around his waist to pull him close. The golden soft light of sunset settled on him, a gorgeous masterpiece just for her. She took in her mark on face above his violet eyes, and just smiled. 

“Ar lath ma, vhenan.” She breathed

He just kissed her, smiling. She pulled him to her forcefully then, her hands around his waist. Her lips became hungry, almost desperate and he pulled back, chuckling. She pouted, chasing his lips. 

“You know, this was my home. I had chambers here, and they were quite opulent as her first chosen-”

She cut him off, pressing her lips to his again. When she pulled back she locked eyes with him and he only took a breath and gathered her into his arms. He stepped with her backwards toward the landing, and when she opened her eyes they were somewhere else entirely.  

Chapter Text

When her eyes opened she saw they were standing on another balcony, golden and shimmering. But now they were silhouetted against a black night, and she turned her face up in awe to stare at the fabric of the sky laid out above her. He turned her gently so she could lean against the railing. He moved behind her and pulled himself close, pressing his hips against her bottom and his chest to her back. He wrapped his arms possessively around her belly and rested his chin on her shoulder, his breath soft against her neck. 

They both stayed quiet as she took in the shining stars above, the constellations just the same as the ones she knew but shining so much brighter than she had ever seen. So much closer, she could almost feel their pull, hear the buzz of them as they made their lazy way across the night. She felt the tingle of magic on her skin, raising the hairs on her arm, and her breath caught in her throat. This place was so alive to her, the real waking world such a pale imitation. He gently brought his lips to her neck then, pressing them softly just below her ear. A small moan left her lips before she could stop it and he chuckled softly, his breath against her ear. He took the pointed tip of her ear into his lips, biting down so softly as she let out a whimper. He whispered then, his voice soft and husky. 

“I have longed to share this place with you, my heart. This place was my refuge, my one bastion of safety where I could just be me. It could only have been made all the more sweeter by you by my side, where you belong.” 

His lips moved back to her neck then, moving across her soft skin as she tilted her head to give him better access. His arms still held her close, leaning gently against the balcony railing, hands rubbing gently across the curve of her belly. He murmured appreciatively against her skin as he continued to explore her. 

“What did I ever do to deserve such an exquisite creature?” He breathed, almost to himself. “Ma ina’lan’ehn las.” She sighed against him then, reaching her hand up to brush against his cheek. Her voice felt faraway even to herself, as it fell from her lips almost unbidden. 

“You deserve it all and more, my heart. Never doubt. We will always have each other,” He gave her an affectionate squeeze then, continuing his soft trail of kisses along her neck. She moved her arms to cover his, hugging herself around the belly. “We will have them soon enough too, Da’Fenlin.” His breath came as a gentle gasp then, and he pulled back from her just enough that he could look at her face. His eyes were wide in surprise, as he almost stuttered over the words. 

“D-Da’Fenlin?” He finally choked out.

She looked to him unsure then, chewing her bottom lip as she thought. “I’m sorry, vhenan. My understanding of the word might be different than what you know of it. I thought it was just a sweet endearment-” He cut her off then, his lips gently pressing to hers. He took a long moment to savour her, before pulling back.

“Little wolfling.” He said softly, his mouth curling into a smile.

“Yes,” She breathed. “Our little wolfling, they couldn’t be anything else. The best of you, and me too.” 

She felt a great swell of emotion from him then across their bond - love, hope, safety, belonging, homecoming, trust, comfort, pride, desire, need and hunger - and it left her breathless. She sent her own feelings back, needing him to know she felt just the same, a mirror of his exact emotions and just the same intensity. 

He pulled her gently around to face him, the feelings still flowing freely between them, and placed his forehead to hers. Their new marks met and they each felt an electric hum, a magical resonance that danced across their skin like hot sparks. Their eyes locked to each other, his violet and hers always a stunning green. He noticed then a change in hers, taking on a darker violet in the outer iris, becoming more like his here in the Fade. Their lips finally met as they each moved toward the other, held so close together there was no space between them. He pushed her gently against the balcony railing, his arms snaking around her to bring both his hands to rest against the curve of her bum. She leaned into him, pushing her breasts and belly against him, enjoying the strength of him and the feel of his chest beneath his armoured coat. 

He gathered the silky fabric of her dress between his fingers, wondering where this idea had come from. It was not the usual style for these affairs, the colour too bright and the backline far too daring. He had never seen a dress quite like it, but it suited her perfectly as if she were made for it, clinging across her belly and her breasts and flaring across her hips. Suddenly he wanted to peel it from her, to tear it from her, to push it up and find her bare underneath and wet for him. He broke the kiss then, breathless, and she chased his lips not ready to lose his contact. He pulled back from her gently then, taking her hand instead, pulling her toward the open archway which led into his chambers. 

“Come, ma’las. This night has only just begun, we have all the time in the world.”

They entered through the archway, hand in hand, into another enormous golden chamber. The walls were the same soft stone covered in gilded golden detail as the grand ballroom below, the floors the same white quartz with golden veins. She idly wondered how long this place had taken to build, and how many thousands of Elvhen lived here.  At the far end of the chamber, on a raised dais she could see a four-poster bed piled high with pillows, blankets and fur pelts. Two enormous white marble statues depicting Fen’Harel flanked either side of the bed, their lupine heads turned howling mournfully to the sky. Their eyes glowed a bright gold in their sockets, and she felt as if they saw into her. 

Above the bed there was an exquisite painting, across the entire section of ceiling, and she gasped at the intricate detail and intimacy of it. It was just him, shining gold and formless, a pure being of emotion with no expectations. Just Wisdom, not yet twisted from his original purpose. There was not even Solas yet, no Pride. He was silhouetted against a setting sun, bright red and vibrant and real. She knew then that he had meant it when he said this place was his refuge, his alone. He had not brought people here, this place was just for him and now for them. She was not so naïve to think he had never shared his body with another, likely many had gone before her, in the thousands of years he held a physical form. But she just knew that he had never shared this place with anyone and that was far more significant. 

She drew her eyes away from the fresco long enough to take in the beauty of the rest of the vast chamber, her eyes moving over an elegant golden spiral staircase moving up to what she could see was likely a library or office above. Then down again to the far end of the room where she spied a comfortable seating arrangement, an overstuffed sofa and a day-bed trimmed in exquisite gold and covered in soft pelts. There was a fireplace, the fire already stoked, basking the room in a bright warm glow. There was a side table with a platter piled high with fruits she did not recognise, and another with cheese and pots of honey. 

Beyond, where she thought the room had ended there was a crystalline door leading into another space. She moved toward it then, pulling him with her, their flat sandals making no noise as they moved softly across the shining floor. She pushed open the door, finding herself in a bright white, gleaming chamber of quartz. There were veilfire torches here, covering everything in a soft golden glow. There was a gentle waterfall of water which tumbled down from some hidden gap in the ceiling to splash into a huge stone tub, seemingly of endless capacity as it did not spill over. The entire chamber felt as if it were carved from the rock, gleaming gold-lined quartz on every surface. An elaborate bench of the same material stood at one end, as if carved out of the very floor. She stood for a long moment, taking in the sight. She had not realised he had come up behind her until she felt his breath on the back of her neck. 

“I never had someone to share this with, never wanted to or dreamed of it. But it is ours now, for tonight. And in the Fade, truly whenever we wish.” His voice was whispered against her hair, soft as a sigh. 

She slipped from his arms then, turning and took his hand. She led him back to the main chamber, coming to stand by his bed, below the painting of Wisdom. She snaked her arms around his neck, pulling him down to her as she pressed her lips to his. His hands moved to her hips then, pulling her to him as he hungrily returned her kiss. She pulled his bottom lip between her teeth, earning a soft gasp from him and a grind of his hips against her belly. He pulled back, breathing hard, and locked eyes with her. 

“Tell me what you what from me, wife” He whispered. She faltered, suddenly nervous. She knew exactly what she wanted but she struggled to form the words, to give him her clear desperate desires. He brought a hand up to brush against her cheek, his eyes softening.

“Anything for you, ma’las. You only need ask and I will do it.” She smiled then, almost shyly and nodded. Her voice was still quiet, and almost unsure of herself but she would enjoy herself. 

“Undress yourself. Slowly.” She murmured, locking eyes with him. He smiled then, almost a smirk, a wicked gleam in his eyes. 

“Ma nuvenin, ma’lan.” He agreed, pressing his lips to hers quickly before moving back from her. 

Slowly, so slowly, he lowered himself to the edge of his bed. He lifted one foot up bringing it to lie across his other leg. He moved his fingers expertly, deftly loosening the laces of his leather sandal. It seemed to take an age as she watched him, pulling the laces carefully out from where they were tied knee to ankle. She watched, mesmerised as he worked diligently, his eyes lowered to his own body while he worked. She felt her heart thudding in her chest, wanting to rush to him and push him back onto the covers, throwing her body over his. But she had asked for this and she would wait until he begged her to join him. 

He managed to get one sandal unlaced, pushing it off slowly, letting it fall to the floor with a soft clatter. He looked up at her then, a small smile curling at the corner of his mouth, delighted with her reaction so far. He moved to the other sandal then, fingers moving quickly across the leather, taking his time with it, slowly loosening the knots. Fully undone he slid that one off too, picking it up and tossing it lazily into a heap with the other one. She was moving her fingers against her neck then, the golden gauntlet of her left hand buzzing with a minute spark as she brushed across a pressure point. She could feel the heat beginning to pool, a need growing that only he could sate. Her eyes were locked on his form, unable to look away as he slowly unwrapped himself for her. 

His hand moved slowly to the clasp at the very top of his throat, and he struggled with it for a moment before bringing his other hand to pull the toggle free. He continued slowly down his chest then, slowly rolling each button between his finger and thumb as she watched before he would pull them free. She rubbed her thighs together unconsciously, thinking of his fingers moving expertly on her body. He felt a thrill seeing her slowly becoming undone even without his touch, just the imagination of him bringing her pleasure. 

He made it to his waist where the buttons finally ended, so he shrugged his shoulders back, rolling his neck as the coat fell heavily to the ground. She let out a small whimper then, accidentally, as she took in the sight of his plain linen tunic underneath. The same one he always wore, the same one she had worn on her first night in the Lighthouse when she had enjoyed herself in his bed. 

He reached for the hem of the tunic, arms crossed over each other as he pulled it casually over his head, letting it join his coat in another pile. She took in the breath-taking sight of his bare chest then, pale and unblemished by the ravages of time or violence. His belly was taut, a tiny trail of dark red hair leading below the waistband of his breeches to where she desperately wanted to see. He was perfect, sculpted as if from the same gleaming golden stone as the chamber they were in. Her breath was ragged now, her hand moving from her neck down to run along the curve of her full breast, fingertips grazing across her silk-covered nipple. 

She moaned then, unable to contain herself and he finally felt a rush of desire he’d been trying to hold back for her. He felt himself hardening quickly, straining against his dark leather breeches. It was time for them to come off, and he moved his fingers clumsily to the ties at his waist. She had moved closer, bracing herself against one of the statues of Fen’Harel, eyes still locked on him and fingertips teasing her nipple. 

He let out a ragged breath, calming himself and then undid the ties on his breeches before pushing them slowly down his hips. He wore no smallclothes underneath, and his hardened length sprung free finally, thick and ready. Her eyes fell to it immediately, and the tiny bead of moisture at the tip. She licked her lips unconsciously, eyes locked to his jutting erection sitting above its patch of dark reddish curls. She went to move to him then, but he held up his hand. He spoke, his voice low and dark.

“I am not finished yet, wife. You asked me to undress.” The corner of his mouth was upturned again, a tiny smirk. Only his ragged breath gave him away. She leaned back against the statue, cursing herself, watching him do what she asked. He sat then, almost peeling his breeches off one leg at a time. When he was done he casually added them to the pile with the rest of his clothing. He turned to her, coming to lean against the statue next to her. He was proud, unashamed, inviting her to take in his form as she had asked. 

She moved her hands to his chest, to trace the smattering of freckles there and the taut pale skin. Her eyes moved lower, to the flat of his belly and the soft dark reddish curls. Lower still until they took in his hardened length jutting proudly toward her, the bead of moisture still at the tip. She’d waited long enough then, she forcefully pushed him back against the statue as she brought herself to her knees in front of him like some blasphemous form of worship. He was not a God, but he was hers and she would show her devotion.

She took him by surprise with her forcefulness and he gasped “Vhenan, what are you-”

He was cut off as she wrapped her hand around his shaft and swiped her tongue across him to taste his essence. He threw his head back then, not caring that it hit the marble with a loud crack. She began stroking his shaft gently, enjoying the smooth silkiness of him. 

“You do not have to do this for me, ma’las. There are other-” He moaned. 

“I want to, vhenan. Isalan dera na aron tuelan, I want to hear you enjoy it.” She murmured, before she wet her lips and took him into her mouth fully. He groaned then, moving both his hands to tangle into her hair. His breathing was ragged, gasping. If she wanted to hear his pleasure then he would gladly give her a symphony. She used one hand to steady herself at his hips, pushing him back against the statue of his likeness. Her other hand, the delicate golden gauntlet, moved under to grip him at the base and guide him deeper into her mouth. He was thick and it was a tight fit, so she worked to relax her jaw, thinking of all the sounds she could draw from him. She hollowed her cheeks creating a gentle suction and then got to work, moving over him. 

He gasped above her, beginning to moan in earnest, the sound music to her ears. She opened her eyes and saw him watching her breathlessly, his eyes dark with desire and mouth open. She felt a rush of something from him then, from across her bond. The image of her on her knees in a posture of worship, with his cock buried deep in mouth. Her dress clinging to her belly and breasts, the stark proof of his touch on her, the bite mark he could clearly see on her shoulder where he had claimed her. His mark on her face. His mind almost screamed one thought into hers, unable to hold back. MINE

She redoubled her efforts then, her fingers moving to gently massage along his tightening sack as she increased the pace of her mouth moving against him. He cried out at the new feeling, pushing his head back against the cool marble. His hands in her hair began to tremble, feeling a peak closing on him. His voice came out strangled, a ragged gasp as she worked his throbbing cock down her throat.

“Vhenan, I will not las-” He cut himself off with a groan, closing his eyes. She didn’t pull back, unable to talk with her mouth so full of him so she pushed the thought to him through their bond, as clear as she could make it. 

Nuvenan rosas’da’din in’emma’av’in  

And he did, almost as if following her command. He cried out, moaning a long rich tone which she would never forget. His hands fisted in her hair as he shuddered, hips bucking as he spilled his seed into her waiting mouth. She continued to move against him, milking the last of his release, careful not to waste a drop until he was moaning softly for her to stop, his hands on hers. She sat back then, pleased, taking in the effect she had on him. She was breathing hard too, and she rubbed her thighs together feeling them slick with want. He was leaning back against the statue, eyes closed, breathing ragged. His pale skin was taut across his chest and belly, his length no less hard following his release, still jutting out proudly toward her. His eyes opened after a long moment, smouldering, finding hers. 

“How can you be so perfect, ma’las?” He asked softly. She smiled, still on her knees before him.

“Could you help me up please, vhenan? It’s a little hard for me to get up like this now.” 

He put a hand to either side of her waist and lifted her to her feet, effortlessly, bringing her close and capturing her lips softly. He pressed himself against the soft curve of her, enjoying the feeling of her arms snaking around his neck as he pushed his face into her neck.

“Vhenan, do you truly enjoy taking me as you just did?” He asked, his voice coming to her small and muffled. The question took her by surprise, as she thought the answer was strikingly obvious.

“Yes, ma’len! Of course, I love it. I wouldn’t do it otherwise. The thought of bringing you pleasure, not something we share but something I do to you…” She trailed off, thinking of the noises he had made, and the slick feeling of her thighs beneath her dress. She was not wearing smallclothes either, she realised. He seemed to think before a long moment before he spoke, and she noticed a slight pinking blush reach the tips of his ears. 

“Before you I had never…enjoyed it so much. Not enough to find…completion.” He spoke haltingly, almost embarrassed. She chuckled then, breaking the tension. She put her fingers to his chin, bringing his face back to hers.

“You needed the right partner” She said firmly, pressing her lips to his hungrily. She pulled away just as quickly, the corner of her mouth now lifting into a smile. She didn’t speak out loud, instead sending her thoughts across their bond.

I want you to undress me now  

He didn’t speak either, but began moving slowly around her doing as he was bid. He came to stand behind her, close enough that his breath was on her neck. He reached one hand into her hair, pulling free several pins which had originally held her hair in an elegant design. His hands fisting there had mostly pulled them free and he removed the rest now with deft fingers. He brushed her hair softly back from her shoulder, bringing his head down to her and brushing his lips softly against her mark there. She moaned then, softly and despite herself. She had promised herself she would let him do what she asked this time, no interruptions.

“You’re not finished, ma’len.” She breathed, wanting to take back the words as she said them. 

“Indeed.” He rumbled against her skin, before moving his lips away. He reached up to the elegant knot of her dress, tied tight behind her neck. He loosened it quickly, letting it drop forward over her chest. She had her head bowed now, and he moved his fingers to softly rub against the muscles of neck. She leant back into him, feeling the tension ease under his fingertips as expertly worked. Another small moan escaped her, as he moved his lips to the soft spot below her ear. 

“Still not done, my heart.” He whispered 

He moved around the front of her then, crouching down to rest on one knee. He gently grasped one elegant leg, bringing it to rest across his knee. He let her brace herself against him as he deftly worked his way down the laces of her leather sandal. So close to her now he could smell the exquisite scent of her, could see the wet lines of slick that had rolled down her thigh. He pushed her dress up and brought his face close and licked a long trail up her thigh, tasting her. They both moaned then, and he forgot himself for a moment as he moved higher toward her sex. She was all too happy to give in now, but he pulled himself away, eyes flashing. He was still not finished yet. 

He managed to loosen all the straps on the left leg, peeling the sandal from her and throwing it roughly over his shoulder. He moved on to the next one, loosening the straps quickly. She had brought her hand between her thighs now, tracing the path she wished his mouth would take. The second sandal came off, thrown in a heap with the others. He let down her leg then, moving to stand behind her. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her tight against him, pushing his straining erection against her back. Her dress was undone but held up clinging to the curve of her breasts. He grasped the fabric at either side and slowly pulled it down, revealing her breasts and his hands moved to cup them gently. 

She sighed and leaned back against his chest, enjoying the feel of his warm hands against her. He moved expertly with both hands, finding her nipples and rolling them gently between finger and thumb until they each became a stiffened peak. She was moaning in earnest now, her hand moving between her thighs not touching her core but tracing lines through her slick. His hands moved then, remembering his task, and he pushed her dress down further over her belly until it reached her hips. He crouched behind her then, his arms still in front of her, as he slowly pulled the dress the rest of the way down her legs, letting it pool at her feet. From below he took in the sight of her, thighs slick with want, her clit swollen with need, for the attention they both desperately wanted him to give. He wouldn’t be denied any longer.

He brought his left hand up to the small of her back to support her, encouraging her to lean on him as he pushed her stance slightly wider. She looked down to him then with wide eyes, questioning until he brought his tongue to her slick folds. She just threw her head back moaning then, letting him do what he wanted to her. He lapped eagerly at her sex, revelling in the sweet taste of her as he quickly pushed two fingers inside. She gasped above him, moaning his name, only pushing him to finish her quicker. He curled his two fingers into just the right place, feeling her bear down on his hand, and he slowly added another stretching her wide. She was moaning phrases in elvhen then, things he was shocked to hear her know as he brought his lips to her swollen clit. 

She jerked against him then, pressing herself down against him, riding his face. She was making a mess of him, her slick dripping onto his face and down his chest. He could feel her legs trembling and he tightened his grip against her securely. He then redoubled his efforts, his three fingers pumping into her curling into just the right spot, lips and tongue moving expertly over her swollen bud as she bucked against his face. He could feel her tightening around him, shuddering, reaching for a peak. Wordlessly, across their bond he coaxed her to her high. 

Rosa’da’din sule emma’sal’in  

Her world exploded into bright golden sparks and she screwed her eyes up tightly as she came to her peak. She flooded him again as his mouth moved against her, drinking her essence and not spilling a drop. His hand against her back held her steady as she swayed, legs weak, feeling spent as he coaxed the last of her release from her.

“That’s it wife, all for me.” He murmured against her skin, almost too soft for her to hear. 

He stood then, and gathered her into his arms. She was naked now, except the tiny golden wolf talisman she wore at her neck. He lifted her effortlessly, still panting and coming down from her high, and carried her to the big four-poster bed. He placed her down gently, so tenderly against the pillows, and then moved away as she lay there with her eyes closed. He came back a moment later with an intricate crystal glass for each of them, the liquid inside a rich golden colour. She looked at him questioningly, and he explained eagerly. 

“Enchanted honey wine, it can heighten the feeling and sensation should you wish it. It only enhances what is already present, and while I do not know for certain I believe with our bond it would be especially potent.” Her eyes flashed at that, imagining how joining with him could possibly be more intense than it already was. 

“I can promise it will not cause you any harm.” He added, his eyes sincere and focused on her belly for a short moment before bringing his eyes back to hers. 

She took the proffered glass, taking a long sip, throwing her neck back. He followed, doing the same. And then he took her glass, moving both of them to a table beside the bed before he moved in next to her. He sat in the middle of the bed, legs crossed under him and held his hand out to hers in offering. She accepted, mounting him quickly, positioning herself upon his lap. She didn’t take him into herself yet, just pressing herself against his pelvis to shoulder, throwing her arms around his neck. Her legs were wrapped around his back, their cores pressed together. They had never been so close before, no space between them.

And then their lips met, and she felt as if the world fell away and there was only him. Her skin buzzed where it met his, all along her core and belly and breasts. His lips on hers felt like they were thrumming with magic, as though he were performing some spell with her as the focus. His tongue moved into her mouth then, moving slowly along her own as she leaned into him forgetting to breathe. She pushed this feeling to him across their bond and felt it returned, mirrored in him just as intense. One of his hands had come to massage her neck, fingers working expertly at her muscles there as she finally broke the kiss, moaning. His lips claimed her neck then, and then his teeth grazing against the soft skin as she finally reached between them. She grasped his hardened length, so thick and throbbing in her hand and brought it to her slick folds. 

She pushed down on him quickly, so wet that he slipped inside easier than he ever had. They both cried out then, clinging to each other, both nearly falling apart instantly at the intense contact. Their eyes met each other then, both intense violet now and wide, as she started a quick rhythm. She moved atop him as he held her steady, crushing her to him with more strength than she knew he possessed. His hardened length moved frantically into her, an obscene slick sound with every movement that went ignored by them. She brought her lips to his, crushing his lips with a bruising pressure, never stopping the roll of her hips against his.

They were closer, far more intimate than anything either of them had ever experienced. She pulled his lower lip between her teeth, biting down hard enough to draw blood. He did not pull back from her, and she sucked his lip tasting the copper of his blood with her tongue. She could feel his heart thudding against her chest as he crushed her to him, his throbbing cock pressing quickly into just the right spot of her tight heat. She pulled back from him just enough to whisper against his lips.

"Jutuan ma ir rosas’da’din, ma tel’aman melin”  

Hearing her speak his language when they were joined always gave him pleasure but these words made him feral. His grip on her became almost bruising, driving his cock into her relentlessly with an almost punishing pace now as she moaned and clung to him. He could feel her beginning to shudder around him, felt her start to contract and tighten around him and he let himself be pulled toward his peak. He continued, frantically thrusting up into her tight heat as she moved above him, both clinging to each other. Breath coming in ragged gasps for both of them, his lap and the sheets under him covered in her slick. 

He grasped her chin and pulled her face back to his, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips as he continued his punishing rhythm. He pulled back, whispering to her “Come with me, vhenan.” 

She peaked then, grinding her hips against him deeply as she moaned against his mouth. She pulled him over the edge and he cried out, burying his face in the curve of her neck as he thrust his release deep inside her. She continued to ride him through their high, her release continuing a long moment, longer than ever before. Finally she collapsed against him, dark spots swimming in front of her eyes as she gasped for breath. His breathing was no easier, as he clung to her above him. He brought one hand down to brush her long hair back from her neck, pressing a gentle kiss there. She gasped at the sensation, feeling pins and needles wherever his lips traced. It was all too much for her now and she gently put her hand on his chin and guided it back to rest against her shoulder. 

They sat entwined, still joined, for a long moment. They listened to the thump of each other's heart, slowly fading to a normal beat. Their breath slowly calmed from ragged breaths to a normal steady rhythm, still clinging to each other tightly. Eventually he lifted her from him, smiling softly as he saw the evidence of him and their combined pleasure on her thighs. He stood slowly, carrying her gently across the gleaming white and golden floors until he reached the crystalline door at the far end of the room. He let her down gently then, lowering her legs to the floor. He took her hand, pushing open the door into the bath chamber. He moved quickly to the stone tub, letting go of her hand and settling into the water with the waterfall gently cascading behind him. He let a contented sigh escape him as he closed his eyes and enjoyed the water. 

She came close and ran her palm through the water, feeling the heat was almost scalding. But it too felt like pins and needles across her, an exquisite feeling of golden warmth dancing across her skin. She quickly stepped in and turned, moving to place herself between his thighs with her back to his chest. He circled his arms around her, gently brushing his fingertips against her skin, enjoying her small moans of enjoyment. Then his hands moved through the water, gently washing away the evidence of what they had done to each other. She leaned her head back against his chest as he worked, so patiently and with deliberate care. She murmured appreciatively as he brought his fingertips to move against the stiff tendons of her neck again. 

He moved his hands away then and did something he had not done before. He circled his arms around her underneath the curve of her belly, lifting the weight of it from her. She gasped in sudden relief as he held the weight, kissing her softly behind the ear.

“I thought that may be a pleasant feeling.” He chuckled.

There was so much thought in everything he did, in the numerous ways that he took care of her. She just knew he would be the best kind of father - wise and kind and patient - and that he deserved to be. She was unable to put the thought into words so she instead just sent him her feelings across their bond. He was silent for a long time and she thought perhaps he hadn’t felt it, but then she heard his sharp intake of breath and turned to see him barely holding himself together. Tears stood in his eyes, his face a mix of hope and anguish. Almost unconsciously she reached up to trace his mark of Hope, her mark, down the ridge of his nose. He finally found the courage to ask the question hanging from his lips. 

“Do you truly believe so, my Hope?” His tone was anguished, searching for an answer he needed but was terrified to hear. 

She took a moment to answer, searching his face, wanting him to see this wasn’t some flippant response to placate him. This was her honest, inspiring truth. 

“Yes.”

Chapter Text

“Yes.” She breathed, her eyes locked to his. She moved closer, bringing herself between his thighs, taking his face gently into her hands. His brows were drawn, still anguished, his eyes filled with doubt. She pressed her forehead to his for a long moment, just breathing deeply. She felt his tears silently fall, brushing against her own cheeks, eventually falling to splash in the water below. Eventually she took a deep breath, slowly  pulling back from him. She lifted his chin gently with one hand, bringing his violet eyes back to hers. 

“I truly believe it, vhenan. I know you didn’t plan for this, didn’t want this and I can’t begin to imagine how it feels for an eternal being to suddenly be faced with the mundane prospect of progeny but-”

He cut her off, his lips gently pressing against hers. He brought his arms to wrap around her, pulling her close to him. His kiss was gentle, savouring her and he lingered for a long moment.  Slowly he broke the kiss, burying his face instead in the curve of her neck. She could feel his heart almost thudding out of his chest as he held her fiercely, his hands moving to rub across her back more as a comfort to him rather than her.  

She could feel something left unsaid and she gave him time to come to terms with it, waiting patiently for him to be ready. Slowly his breathing calmed, the thudding of his heart coming to a normal rhythm. After a long moment he pulled back, looking at her earnestly, his eyes tear-stained but now clear. His brows were still pulled together, his expression serious. 

“I do want this, ma’las, more than I could have ever anticipated I would." He took her hands in both of his, rubbing gentle circles idly against both. She still felt a very faint spark where his hands touched hers and it now gave her a warm comforting feeling. He continued slowly, his eyes even with hers. 

“In all my many years of existence I never once thought of this, not before and not in the thousands of years I lay dreaming. I had never considered that that progeny could be any part of my story, no legacy for me to leave except the world in ruins.  When we first…learned of this we spoke about how it was extremely rare for the elvhen to procreate naturally. It was rarer still amongst the original elvhen  including the Evanuris who largely considered themselves to be beyond the base desires of others. I never had such a drive, and while I enjoyed the company of others I never trusted any single person enough to form a lasting relationship with them.” His face grew anguished then, and he continued now in a low tone. 

“Felassan was my closest companion,  he was truly the best of us and I miss him terribly. He was genuine, truthful and fiercely loyal to me. He was Mythal’s second, and yet when I began to turn away from her he followed me without hesitation. His company was a guiding light for me during my rebellion, a steadfast support even when he rightly challenged me on my actions and beliefs. We loved each other in our own way but it was not…romantic. He knew me, my spirit, better than anyone until I met you. Somehow you saw right to the centre of me, without even knowing who or what I was, without the burden of the truth.” He flashed her a soft smile then and she returned it as she watched him silently, allowing him to get out all the words he needed to. 

“Before the fall there was only my rebellion, my long laid plans and then the unintended consequences there of. I saw this place crumble as I lay in my eternal slumber and I mourned. I saw so much of the new world that followed as I lay dreaming, cultures rising and falling built upon lies. I was inspired by little of it, and I thought even less of the mortal existence forced upon the elvhen, now living short messy lives like the humans they were forced to share cities with."

He brought her hand to his mouth then, brushing his lips softly across it. She felt the tiny spark on her skin then too and she murmured appreciatively at the feeling, still watching him quietly. 

“I did not intend this, did not even consider it - dream of it - to be part of our future, but I would not change it ma’las . This tiny spark we’ve made could change everything, a lost emotion returning to the world after millennia set adrift, the ramifications a complete unknown.” He was speaking quickly now, almost excitedly she realised. He took a quick breath, noticing her small frown appear. His gaze softened then, his tone becoming gentle. 

“How it will change us is unknown too, my hope. You change everything, even the future I dream for myself."

It was her turn for tears to form, and he pulled her close then brushing them away with his thumb. She leaned up to kiss him, pushing her lips softly against his and then leaning her forehead against him. 

“Thank you for your faith in me, ma’las ” he whispered against her lips. His emotions were still raw and they slipped across their bond to her - there was the ever present love and hope she had come to expect from him and it filled her with a golden warmth she still marvelled at. There was still an uncertainty there about their future, about him and his suitability. She could sense his fear of disappointing her and their tiny platinum spark, unnamed and yet so important. But under all of it there was an almost boyish bubble of excitement.  She chuckled very softly and moved to rest her head against his chest, enjoying the steady thump of his heart. 

“If it makes you feel at all better, I have no idea what I am doing either. We’ll figure it out together” She murmured. 

He murmured in agreement, moving his hands to work at the tendons of her neck. She moaned softly against him, unmoving as he continued to work the tension from her. After a long while he noticed her breathing had evened out into long steady breaths, and that she had fallen asleep against him. 

He smiled fondly, gathering her in his arms and lifting her effortlessly. She didn’t stir as they moved, the nights’ exertion obviously finally having taken its toll. He stepped out of the stone tub, raising one hand lazily through the air to dry them both off. Then he walked carefully over to the bed, placing her down gently and climbing in under the covers next to her. She rolled onto her side away from him and he quickly pulled her close, pressing his hips into the soft curve of her bum. She murmured appreciatively in her sleep and he gave her a fond squeeze.  He fell asleep entwined with her, easier than he ever had. 

When she awoke she was surprised to discover two things. Firstly, he had awoken before her and left their bed while she still slumbered. Secondly, she had been woken by the brilliant golden light of sunrise streaming in through the archway to the balcony. She sat up in bed, yawning, as she looked out to see her love silhouetted against the morning sun. He was there naked on the balcony, a gorgeous lean pale figure, looking as if chiselled from stone. He was leaning against the railing, hands steepled, looking out over the glorious green carpet of the forest below. They had awoken in Arlathan, the recreation of his home he had made just for her. 

She relaxed back against the soft covers, enjoying the quiet moment, allowing him to continue his musings alone for a long while. Eventually she gathered herself together, sliding out from the covers and moving softly across the quartz floor until she reached the archway. She stopped there for another short moment, enjoying the smooth curve of his back and thighs as he leant over the railing. 

“Enjoying the view?” Came his soft voice, chuckling. 

She came forward then as he turned and pulled her into his embrace. His skin was pale as ever but warm and sun-kissed, and she snuggled against his chest closely. The brilliant golden light of morning shone intensely on them, setting a pleasant tingling on her skin. He pulled her chin up to his and pressed a kiss to her lips, and she tasted something warm and herbal on his breath. His face was back to how she knew it, the scars present though his new Vallaslin remained as hers did. She reached up a finger to gently trace the thin silver lines down his nose, watching him silently. He closed his eyes, leaning into the feeling, clearly enjoying it. 

He pulled away gently, holding one finger up to her as he walked back into the open chamber. He returned with two robes thrown over one arm and a tray in the other. He set the tray down carefully on a small table behind them and offered her one of the two robes. He shrugged his on quickly, wrapping it loosely around him as she took the second and did the same. His was a soft charcoal grey, but he had picked out a shimmering silver one for her that was like silk against her skin. It did nothing to hide her form, and she noticed him taking in the sight of her as she carefully knotted the tie above her belly. He gestured then to the comfortable plush sofa behind them, and the tray sitting on the small table in front of it.

“Take tea with me?" A small grin had appeared on his face, an eyebrow carefully arched awaiting the question he knew she’d ask. 

“Tea ? But I thought you hated it! I’ve seen you drink tea Solas and you did not enjoy it. The look on your face could have turned someone to stone.” She was astonished, of all the things she had seen recently this was certainly one of the most surprising. He laughed, a genuine rich sound of mirth as he delighted in her shock. She just stood impatiently, unconsciously tapping one bare foot, waiting for him to explain himself. 

“I absolutely detest the stuff they called tea in your world, utterly vile and a cruel punishment on any forced to imbibe it.” He moved over to sit on the sofa, gesturing at the tray with its exquisite golden tea kettle and delicate cups. “This is what tea should be, strong and sweet and scaldingly hot.” He lifted the teapot delicately, pouring two steaming cups of what looked like very strong black tea. He added some honey from a nearby pot, stirring it gently. He held out one cup in offering to her, and she came to sit next to him, accepting it gingerly. 

He watched her as she took a cautious sip, smiling widely then as she went back quickly for a second one. She closed her eyes, humming appreciatively, before chuckling.

“Alright I understand now, vhenan. You always did have a sweet tooth, didn’t you?"

He looked surprised by that, his head cocking slightly to the left as he looked at her questioningly. She noticed him watching and went on to answer him quickly.

“I just remember something you mentioned years ago. We were in Orlais, and you were regaling Blackwall about the markets in Halamshiral. I thought it was very endearing that you liked the frilly cakes, my love. Adorable.” She smiled innocently at him, enjoying his reaction. 

He was blushing now, his cheeks and the tips of his ears a lovely pink. “Of all the things to remember…” he muttered under his breath before laughing. “Well, in my defence they were lovely, a small pleasure I enjoyed whenever I could. They were serving them at the Winter Palace when we visited, and I managed to steal away quite a few after-” He coughed, pausing for a moment before seemingly resolving himself to continue. 

“Well, after I returned from securing the eluvian network. As you know I was celebrating a long-awaited victory and that means excellent wine and even better food."

“And you didn’t save me any?” She asked gravely, almost pouting. He laughed properly then before pulling her in for a kiss, his lips warm and tasting sweet as honey. 

“Ir abelas ,vhenan . A visit to Halamshiral is not out of reach for us though, if you wanted to experience the markets with me? As always it would only be my recreation, but I have an excellent memory.” He sat back letting her consider, continuing to enjoy his tea. 

“I think I would rather see more of this place if that were possible, ma’len. It’s so beautiful here, even the light seems different.  This place is so full of magic, I can taste it in the air and feel it on my skin." She looked around almost in wonder, across the brilliant golden sky with the sun almost fully risen and the great green carpet of forest below. He set his tea down before taking hers delicately and doing the same. He turned fully to her then, bringing one hand up to her cheek. 

“I would share it all with you, ma’las. You need only ask.” He said softly. 

She took a moment, thinking of everything she wanted to ask and see and learn of his enormous unknown past. 

“The memory that brought us here, originally, the Grand Ballroom. Some important event, with all the Evanuris gathered together. How long after that did you start your rebellion?” She asked curiously. 

He thought for a short moment before replying. “Not long at all, truthfully. I had already started planning by then. Indeed the plans and documents are locked in my desk upstairs, hidden away from prying eyes who would have me destroyed at the sight of them. I told only Felassan of my intentions, though it is fairer to say he guessed and I gave him the truth. He was ever perceptive, and he knew my moods well." He brushed a hand through his hair, remembering. 

“She had joined them - joined him , Elgar’nan - not long before the scene you witnessed. I was horrified. Betrayed and lost, set adrift in a torrent. I could not continue to follow her then, I needed to forge my own path for the first time in my long existence. Felassan and I did it together, he was by my side through it all, though of course later legend forgot him in the rush to paint me as the villain." 

He fell quiet then, and they took in a long moment of comfortable silence. He moved to put his arm around her shoulders and she snuggled up against his chest, the both of them watching the sun fully rise high into the sky. Slowly they drifted back to an easy sleep, entwined together. 

They woke again, a long while later, as the sun was beating down a hot midday gaze. He rubbed his hand in circles across her back, bringing her gently awake. She was groggy and came to slowly, snaking her arms around his neck and pressing her face to him. She was so comfortable and warm and safe, and they had all the time in the world after all. Why not enjoy the warmth of the sun, curled up with her husband, nothing but the two of them in this gorgeous place. But he was insistent, coaxing her back with a gentle shake. He brought his lips to the spot just under her ear and gave her a soft kiss.

“Come now, my heart. There is much I still wish to show you of this place”. He murmured softly, his breath against her skin. 

She finally sat up then and stretched, noticing his eyes following the outline of her breasts through her silk gown as she moved. She smiled and stood slowly, offering him her hand which he readily took. They moved about the chambers, picking out clothing to wear from a previously unseen wardrobe. He picked out the usual tunic and soft leggings, and she picked out a soft cotton dress which she belted around the waist. When she was dressed, he came to her and pulled her into a gentle embrace. 

“Close your eyes.” He whispered 

She did as she was bid, and they stood still together for a long moment until he let out a breath. She opened her eyes and looked about in wonderment at what awaited her. 

“Gods above.” She breathed, her eyes wide and mouth open. 

“No gods, just me ma’las ” He replied softly, chuckling. 

She gave him a very gentle shove before pulling him close and pressing her lips firmly to his. She pulled back to find him beaming, a wonderful boyish grin across his face. 

“I had hoped you would love this place as I did, it was a favoured respite of mine when I lived here. I used to enjoy the quiet solitude, coming here to paint quite frequently." 

She looked around then, taking in every exquisite detail. They were in an enormous open space that felt like a subterranean cave but she knew could only be a purpose built chamber in just another crystalline tower. They stood in what would have been darkness if not for the thousands of bright glowing plants, moss and fungi which grew wild like a carpet across most of the ground here. There were enormous glowing toadstools, reaching a hundred feet high, throwing great shadows across the ground. The far distant walls she could see were made with the same white marble with gold veins, the metal reflecting brightly against the great blue glow of the flora. High above was a ceiling, almost beyond the edge of her vision. She could not see the far end of the chamber, somewhere well beyond the distant horizon. She could hear water somewhere, moving about lazily, somewhere beyond her sight. 

She finally realised she had been staring about with her mouth open a long minute and she closed it abruptly, bringing her eyes back to him. He was watching her with a soft smile, clearly enjoying her reaction. 

“It is magnificent, is it not? This place was built for practical reasons of course, most of these plants and fungi are reagents for making magical potions and increasing the potency of rituals but they are beautiful too. They called this place the Arcanum Arboretum but most just thought of it as nislean'vun'an." He explained, continuing to take in the scene. He glanced at her to see her frown and clarified. 

“It means ‘gleaming gardens’, after a fashion. Come, there is a clearing near the pool where we can sit for a while.” 

He took her hand and led her carefully down a path he clearly knew well, avoiding stepping on the great carpet of glowing flora. She heard the sound of water becoming louder, almost a deafening raw as a waterfall came into view. It flowed from somewhere high up above, to come crashing down in an enormous white splash of spray. She thought perhaps they would stop there, near the base of the surging pool but they kept going beyond to a flat spot devoid of the floral underlay where an easel stood together with some other painting supplies.

He stopped then, coming to stand behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. He pressed his lips to her neck, drawing a contented noise from her. Then he moved his lips to her ear and whispered “Close your eyes, my heart." 

She did as she was bid, and felt him wave an arm lazily through the air. She opened her eyes then, taking in the new sight of a comfortable blanket, a small tray with a tea setting and another with some crusty bread and a selection of cheeses, and a handful of delicate white iced cakes. She smiled delightedly, turning to press a joyous kiss to his lips. They sat quickly together, cross-legged, against the backdrop of the water crashing distantly and the brilliant cerulean glow from the far-off flora. 

She began pouring the tea as she now knew he liked it, before chuckling heartily as he demolished a frilly cake in one bite. She pulled him to her for a quick kiss then, brushing away the crumbs from his lips with her thumb. She revelled in seeing him like this, laid back and so enjoying himself. He deserved it, they both did, and she would make all the time in the world for it. She helped herself to bread and cheese, wondering inwardly why he had selected three different varieties. He seemed to enjoy that too though, and she put it down to just another beloved idiosyncrasy.

She would not dare to ruin his good mood now with judgemental questions, so instead she asked “You said you painted here?” 

He just nodded, his mouth full. He took a long moment, chewing quickly as she smiled at him bemused. “Indeed, I used to come here fairly frequently looking for a quiet place or something to inspire me. I used to compose music here occasionally too, when the mood struck me." He stopped then, regarding her with a shy look. 

“I have started composing a new song actually, just this morning as you slept I was struck with the inspiration.” She smiled brightly, and motioned for him to go on.  

“When I was in my uthenera I observed many things from the Fade. I have told you some of them of course but many I considered to just be the mundane realities of mortal life, small and insignificant and not worthy of particular note." He saw her soft frown and took a deep breath before forging on. 

“I have had precious little interaction with children in my early existence, but from what I have seen they can sometimes be calmed by a gentle song, a…lullaby?” He looked at her questioningly and she felt the doubt trickle across their bond from him. She gave him a reassuring smile, taking his hand in hers. 

“There were so few children in Elvhenan, that despite having millennia worth of exquisite, elegant poems and magnificent songs I have no lullabies. Nothing to sing to my own child, to soothe them in their troubles." His face fell, and she felt his sorrow leach across their bond to her. She reached out her hand to his face then, brushing his cheek gently. He swallowed, nodding almost to himself. 

“I will write them one, ma’las, just for them. Perhaps when we return to the Lighthouse you can join me in the music room and we could work on it together?” His eyes were wide and vulnerable and she pulled him in for a quick sweet kiss. 

“Of course, vhenan. I don’t know how much help I’ll be as I do not have a single creative bone in my body but you know I love to be with you while you work." 

He pressed his lips against hers firmly then, moving his hand to the nape of her neck. He tasted like honey and sweet tea and something peppery and she delighted in it for a long moment. He moved his lips to her neck, touching the sensitive spot just below her ear, enjoying the small moan she made. 

“You’re my inspiration, ma’las, my muse. While we are here I thought perhaps I could take a moment to recreate your beauty on the canvas.” He whispered. She blushed then, a gentle pink blossoming across her cheeks and the tips of her ears. 

“What did you have in mind?” She asked softly.

“Come with me.” He replied, picking up the easel and the painting supplies. 

She followed him a short distance away, close to where the waterfall fell into a churning torrent at the base of the pool. He pulled her to him then, running his hands appreciatively down her sides to come to rest on the curve of her bum. He gave her rump a gentle squeeze and she laughed. 

“This isn’t painting, ma’len.” She chuckled 

He chuckled too, and then slowly began to unbuckle her belt, his fingers deftly working the knot loose, letting it fall loose to the ground. She let him undress her, staying still, enjoying the feel of his hands on her. They moved next to the low hem of her cotton dress, pulling it slowly up her thighs until it reached her hips. He swallowed hard then, noticing she was bare underneath, the patch of her soft curls visible at the apex of her thighs. 

Tease

The thought flashed into her mind, wordless from him and she only smirked as he continued to pull her dress higher until it was over her breasts and then her head. She stood naked then and proud, her eyes locked on his, watching him as he looked her over appreciatively.  

His eyes continued tracing her for a long moment, and she dragged her eyes slowly down to see the outline of his hardened length straining against his leggings. She was thrilled to see she still had this effect on him, the simple sight of her body setting his heart crashing against his chest. She was sorely tempted to push him down onto the blanket of glowing flora, to ride his face and his lap and enjoy herself. But he had so wanted to paint, and she would try to be patient. 

“Where do you want me, ma’len?” She asked softly, her eyes still locked to him. His eyes flashed then, as he fought an internal struggle with himself. In the end it seemed he had just enough self control to speak a strangled phrase.

“Over here…” He trailed off, pointing to a magnificent enormous luminescent toadstool which grew in the centre of the chamber, the waterfall splashing down into the pool behind it. There was an intense carpet of luminescent blue flora and fungi growing across the base and right up the trunk, reaching up high toward the ceiling far above. She moved to it, walking slowly away from him, enjoying the sound of his ragged breath from behind her. She came to lean her back against the glowing blue cover of the trunk gently, her head cocked to the side, right hand resting against her collarbone with the golden gauntlet of her left coming to rest against the curve of her belly. 

He set up his easel with a fresh canvas and the paints, coming to stand in front of her. His leggings were still tightly tented but for now he seemed to ignore it, focusing only on her.  He took a long moment to look over her, his eyes lingering on her curves and the placement of her hands. He began slowly, gentle brush strokes with a delicate hand. Drawing the intricate lines of her, the bones that would become a whole picture. Then his left hand raised in the air, weaving gently and she felt his magic call to him, golden and bright as he poured it into his art. She could feel it across her skin, finding the measure of her and the detail. His magic thrummed across her skin to the beat of her pulse, and she felt herself grow warm both with desire and with a deep abiding love for him. 

He brought his gaze to hers then, continuing the movement of his hands, his eyes dark and intense. She caught herself in a wicked mood and sent him an image over their bond, delighting in his surprised gasp when he received it. It was just her, pressed against the trunk of the toadstool with her legs wrapped around him as he pushed himself inside her forcefully. His leggings were still on, just pushed down past his hips, so eager to have her. He expelled a breath forcefully, shaking his head as if he could clear her from his mind. He sent her a single word back.

Tease 

Then he paused for a moment, considering before his eyes took on a wicked gleam. He wet his lips unconsciously and sent her a series of images that he imbued with a tiny touch of his magic, just enough for her to realise she was outmatched. There was no way she would win this battle of wits, and he would enjoy seeing her focus dominated. The first of the images was him moving to her, kneeling between her thighs and running a finger through her slick folds. She felt her breath catch at the thought, just as the second image hit her. It was just the same one she had sent him but she could feel it, feel him thrusting into her forcefully his arms supporting her weight as he fucked her roughly against the trunk. She moaned, throwing her head back as the feeling ravished her. 

He chuckled then, smirking, and continued weaving his hands through the air, one with brush and one without. The feeling in her faded slowly and she locked her eyes on him, glaring, breathing hard.

“That’s not playing fair, vhenan.” She whispered. He continued the hand movements, not taking his eyes off her.

“Ir abelas, ma’lan. I will not do it again.” He nodded gently, his face contrite. 

“Please do.” She replied, her voice so low it was almost lost in the crashing of the water behind them. 

He never stopped the work his hands were doing, but he smiled softly and closed his eyes for a short moment. Then they snapped open, almost boring into hers. He kept his gaze levelled to her, watching her reaction. She received the image again, just the same one but imbued with a much larger magical spark this time, his magic swirling around her like a golden cloak, thrumming against her skin. In seconds she felt the pleasure build until she was at a towering precipice, then his voice was in her mind almost like a command. 

Lasa em tua rosas’da’din

And she did, crying out as her high washed over her, throwing her head back against the trunk of the giant toadstool. He watched her intensely, breathing heavily and his hands finally came to rest, the painting now complete. He put down the paintbrush carefully, sparing a glance for the exquisite image he had created for her and then went quickly to her. 

Her eyes were still half-lidded with pleasure as he reached her, his breathing ragged. He pressed his lips to hers hungrily as she reached for his waistband and started pushing down his leggings. In a short moment his hardened length sprung free, thick and weeping. He lifted her effortlessly, spreading her thighs around him, steadying her against the trunk. Then he pulled her down onto him, driving into her soaking core in one movement. They both moaned at the intense friction, and he immediately moved to an almost frantic rhythm, thrusting into her deep and quick at an angle that was perfect for both of them. She threw her arms around his neck, one hand moving up to fist into his hair as they gasped against each other, their lips meeting in a bruising kiss. 

“Gods, pala em!” She moaned, now burying her face in his neck. He chuckled, continuing to fuck her with the same almost punishing pace.  

“No gods here, remember. Just me, ma’lan.” He gasped, breathless.

He shored up his grip on her with one hand, pressing her firmly into the trunk as he weaved his hand between their bodies to her slick folds. His fingers found her sensitive bud and he brushed against it gently, imbuing his finger with a tiny spark of his magic. The effect was immediate, as she bucked against him desperate for more. 

“That’s it, wife.” He murmured, his lips against the point of her ear.

He rubbed his fingers against her slick, pressing his thrumming magic into her swollen clit. She almost shrieked then, and then it was his turn to cry out as she sank her teeth into his shoulder. She ran her tongue over the spot, soothing it as he continued driving into her. Between his fingers and his magic and his thrusts she was soon undone, tightening around him as she moaned her pleasure into his neck. He brought both hands back to her hips then as he thrust into her with abandon, growing erratic.  His thrusts grew messy and then he stilled as he thrust his release deep inside her, groaning. He never finished anywhere other than inside her, enveloped by her warm, wet softness. 

They stood joined together a long while before he gently lifted her from him, brushing her hair back from her face, He pulled her chin up to his, both of them breathing heavily, and gave her a gentle kiss on the lips and then her forehead. He hitched up his leggings, and picked her up then, leaving the painting behind for now.

He carried her over to the small pond by the waterfall, waving his free hand in the air to still the water from a crashing torrent to a steady trickle. He waved his hand lazily again and then was nude, and he walked carrying her into the warm water. He waded out with them until the water was at his belly and then gently sank to his knees to submerge them both. The feeling was sublime, latent magic thrumming across their skin, their hearts still leaping from their chests. He watched her for a long moment as she clung to him, eyes closed and breathing heavily. He treasured her - mind, body and spirit - still marvelling even now that she was here with him. 

Slowly she came to part from him, moving to float on her back staring up at the great cerulean canopy of luminescence above them. He joined her, laying on his back in the perfect still water, threading his fingers through hers. There was just the steady soft trickle of the waterfall beyond, and a delicate breeze with a floral scent that had no place in a sealed chamber like this. They drifted lazily for a long while, a comfortable silence between them, no need from either of them to fill the space with words. She was content with silence for it allowed her to think of him and their growing spark, and how little time they had remaining before their lives were to be changed irrevocably. She couldn't really conceptualise them yet, who they would be and how things would be for them. Finally she sat up, keeping her hand intertwined with his, bringing her gaze to his face. He had his eyes closed, contented, his face looking so soft and carefree. 

“Ma’len.” She called, pulling on his hand gently. His eyes snapped open immediately, coming to hers. 

“Yes, my heart?” He murmured softly, sitting up and bringing his lips softly to hers. 

“I know you could not tell when we first came to realise, but I wondered if perhaps you could now?” She chewed her bottom lip, wondering if it was a silly request. He looked at her questioningly, so she clarified, “The nature of them, and how long we have?” 

He smiled then and nodded, moving to circle around behind her and threading his arms around her waist. He slowly placed both his hands on her belly, laying the palms of his hands flat against her. She felt them grow warm as he pushed his magic and his spirit out toward the growing spark in her belly. The same brilliant platinum light engulfed them both and she felt his spirit soar in joy across their bond. She turned her head to see his eyes closed, a soft smile on his lips. Then his brow furrowed, concentrating before he opened his eyes.

“I believe we have a small number of months left to wait, ma’las. More than two, perhaps as much as three but I think not. As for the nature of them…” 

He trailed off, closing his eyes again, concentrating. This took much longer and she was about to reassure him that they didn’t need to know when his eyes snapped open. They found hers, wide in shock. He opened his mouth but couldn’t speak, the words refusing to come. Instead, he pushed a single word to her across their bond, letting it ring loudly through her mind, the silence between them now deafening. 

Two

Chapter Text

“Two?” She repeated blankly, the words holding little meaning to her. She shook her head, as if to clear out the nonsensical idea. He couldn’t possibly mean what she thought. 

“Two.” He breathed, his hands still flat against her belly. He moved around her then, coming face to face, pressing his forehead against hers. His breath was shaky, his eyes still wide but a small smile played at the corner of his lips. He took a deep breath, steadying himself before continuing. 

“We will be welcoming two asha'lans, my hope. One spirit in two forms, a rare and exquisite creation.” He whispered.

He moved to circle her in his arms then, pulling her close to him as she buried her face in his neck. He rubbed small circles against her bare back with one hand, his other held steady at her waist as they sat together, with just the gentle trickle of the waterfall as a backdrop. He noticed her gently shaking, a ragged intake of breath betraying her as she tried to keep her tears quiet. But he noticed immediately, tightening his grip on her and soothing his free hand down her hair. She took a long moment, taking several deep breaths before she chuckled looking up at him. 

“Just as soon as I feel I have come to terms with something, we’re surprised again." He pressed his lips to hers like a gentle reassurance and murmured appreciatively before pulling back just enough to rest his forehead on hers again, mark to mark. 

“As in all things, ma’las, we will do this together.” He said softly.

She only nodded, bringing her lips back to his, throwing her arms around his neck and weaving her hands into his long wet hair. They stayed locked together a long while, her needing the closeness of him and him only too eager to oblige. Eventually she pulled back, breathless and rested her face against his chest enjoying the steady thump of his heart. He held her there as he relaxed back into the water, the both of them floating gently intertwined together. After a time she spoke, soft and hesitant. 

“We need to begin to prepare, ma’len. Prepare a space for them and supplies, and for their…arrival. We have stayed here overlong, we should be getting home.” 

She sighed, dragging herself upright in the water. He stayed lying on his back, his eyes closed. She reached out to take his hand and he let himself be pulled to a sitting posture. 

“If that is what you’d like, ma’las." He brushed his lips against her hand still clasped in his, his breath soft against her skin. “Though I would like to show you one more thing before we depart, if you’ll indulge me”. 

“Of course, vhenan.” She replied quickly, nodding.

He pulled himself to his feet, bringing his hands back to her waist and lifting her to hers too. They walked hand in hand then back to the shore, the warm water lapping at their thighs still thrumming with latent magic. When they reached the edge he waved a gentle hand through the air and they were dry and clothed once more, a matching ensemble of elegant robes she had not seen before but distinctly elvhen in make. 

His were a deep brown with a golden trim, elegant and cut at a striking angle enhancing his lean physique. There were dozens of buttons down the front and her hand itched to spend a while lazily undoing them. She knew her patience would falter and they would end up torn, buttons falling to the floor before she reached his waist. He seemingly enjoyed her reaction, the corner of his mouth moving to form a pleased smile. Her robes were a dark midnight blue with an exquisite silver trim, soft almost as velvet and belted above her belly. She was wonderfully warm and comfortable and yet still his eyes roamed across her appreciatively taking in the sight of her. She smiled delightedly and pulled him close for a quick kiss, enjoying the fresh smell of his hair and the warmth of his lips.

“We would have worn this if we had sworn our eternal vows here. If you had lived here during my time I have no doubt I would have sworn to you just as I have now." He traced her Vallaslin with a gentle finger, marvelling at the image of his golden spirit etched across her face. Then he brought the finger to his own face, and the simple silver marking of Hope he had given himself.

“Vhenan i elgar, dun’i’sil. Ma i ane, bellanaris. My glimmering Hope” He said softly, his hand resting against her cheek. “Come, one final matter before we depart."

He stepped away then, grasping her hand in his as they walked back to the magnificent toadstool where he had painted his muse. He came to the canvas still on the easel, gesturing for her to approach. He stood back, looking for her reaction, his eyes searching her face. He broke into a breath-taking grin as she gasped softly.

“Oh vhenan, it is just gorgeous. Do you truly see me as this?” 

“This and more, fenor.” He said fiercely, his eyes shining with love and pride for her. 

The piece was magnificent, exquisitely detailed and painted in an expert hand. It was an abstract interpretation of her form, naked and beautiful, her belly round and hair long over her shoulders. Her face bore the golden image of him, and her left hand was a gleaming delicate golden gauntlet.  A shining silver halo surrounded her which radiated from her chest. His magic lingered in the canvas, drawing the viewer's eye to her, unable to do anything but marvel at her beauty and her strength and her grace. 

“We must find a place for it in our home, perhaps in the music room where you can continue to be my muse.” He smiled, and then came to stand behind her, wrapping his arms around her belly. She lifted the canvas from the easel, grasping it softly like a precious thing and closed her eyes. In a heartbeat she felt the world around her shimmer, the noise falling away, and then they were home. 

Their bedchamber was just as they had left it, and she realised that of course it would be. After all, they had only been away one evening but it almost felt like they had lived a lifetime together, in his recreation of Arlathan for her. It had been a wonderful, changing experience for them both. But this place had become their home, warm and comfortable and filled with the two of them and the spirits who deigned to keep them company. Cole would be about somewhere, the young man they had seemingly adopted. An ancient spirit, in some ways wise and perceptive but so naïve and gentle. He needed guidance, and she knew Solas would be happy to give it. Compassion and Wisdom should be such good friends, and Hope too was the perfect third point to the triangle. 

He loosened his grip on her as he opened his eyes and she moved away, leaning the new painting against one of the wolf statues. She breathed a sigh of relief to be home with him, in the place they would bring together their new life. She was still uneasy that they had not been able to escape the bonds of his prison yet. She had hoped that after their time exploring his memories and visiting his ancient home together that he may be able to let go. She was disappointed to find it untrue, this place didn’t feel any different to her. She looked to see him smiling then, a blissful contented look on his face as he looked around their shared room. She decided then she would let him have this time. She would not bring up escaping purgatory this night, he deserved to enjoy this a while longer. 

His eyes met hers then, and he took a deep breath, smiling softly at her. “Will you help me compose that song now, ma’las? I yearn to pour my spirit and magic into music, to draw on my love and the hope for our future to make something beautiful for our daughters.” 

She went to him then, her heart swelling with love and she felt it spill across their bond into him, expanding until he was engulfed in it. She wrapped her arms around his neck, standing on the tips of her toes to reach his lips. His arms moved around her and he pulled himself close, leaning over her, his hands coming to rest against her bum. He pulled back from the kiss and gave her rump a gentle squeeze, causing her to laugh indulgently. 

“Come, my muse, to the music room. Otherwise I fear we will not leave this chamber until the morning." He said breathlessly, chuckling. 

She looked as if she were seriously considering it, her eyes moving over him slowly as she pondered. But then she shook her head slightly, remembering the words he had used. He yearned to do this, and she could not stand in the way of that. Instead she just moved to take his hand, bringing him with her to the portal. They stepped through carefully together, the light flashing intense and blue, until they stood in the music room. It was just as she remembered it, when they sat together at the piano while he sang his promise to her for their future. Before they spoke their vows at Crestwood and Homecoming had sparked under a thunderous sky. 

The piano sat in the middle of the room atop a stone floor, a small stone bench before it. The inquisition frescoes lined several walls, with one of what she now was sure was Arlathan on another wall. She noted for the first time the idle astrarium one one bench, and the golden statue of a goddess she remembered from their time at Halamshiral. The more she searched the room the more evidence of his past she saw. She did note with more than a passing curiosity a cup of tea, cold and abandoned, on the arm of an Inquisition chair by the far portal. 

However they had come here so he could sing for their future, for their asha'lans, and she longed to see his creative process again. She moved quickly to sit at the piano, scooting across the bench and then patting the seat next to her. He smiled and moved in quickly next to her, settling his hands upon the keys. 

“This is what I imagined, this morning when we awoke in the splendour of my old world. With the sun yet to make its lazy way into the sky, the world still and dark in the low light of dawn, only the sound of you sleeping to guide my thoughts." He said softly, his eyes lingering on hers a long while before he closed them and took a deep breath. 

His hands began to move gracefully, tracing the keys in a gentle soft melody, an almost plaintive yearning sound. She found herself swaying, feeling his magic suffusing the music and the air. Then he opened his eyes, bringing them to hers with an intense look. 

“Take the lute, my heart. You will know what to do.” He whispered, continuing to play the melody. 

She looked nonplussed, she was not a musician and did not know how to even hold a lute properly. But she did as she was bid, lifting it and bringing it to her lap. Slowly her hands settled upon it, holding it close to her as she began to pluck out notes carefully. She was startled to hear herself harmonise with him, playing the lute perfectly as if she were born to it. She realised then that this was meant to be a duet, and he had somehow gifted her the knowledge or memory or skill of how to play. She was almost overwhelmed by the gesture, sending him her feelings of gratitude across their bond. He had wanted so fiercely for her to be part of this, to join him in making something for their children. 

The two instruments weaving together seamlessly now he began to sing, and she was somehow not surprised to find she knew the words too. The elvhen words tumbled from her mouth effortlessly, as if she were writing the song. His voice was deep and rich, and the perfect companion to hers. 

Elgara vallas, da’fenlin

Melava somniar 

Mala tara aravas 

Ara ma'desen melar  

 

Iras ma ghilas, da’fenlin 

Ara ma'nedan ashir 

Dirthara lothlenan'as 

Bal emma mala dir

 

Tel'enfenim, da’fenlin 

Irassal ma ghilas 

Ma garas mir renan 

Ara ma'athlan vhenas 

Ara ma'athlan vhenas 

As they sang images flashed into her mind from him, hopes he shared of their future, the two of them together with two little auburn-haired girls. Holding them as they cried and as they laughed. Teaching them to dream, how to speak with spirits kindly and to be gentle with the truth.  Sitting at the piano, and painting with them, training in the courtyard teaching them how to harness their magic. 

The two of them playing, two halves of the same spirit, the very best of friends. Then, visiting with Clan Lavellan under her watchful eye, meeting the nameless and faceless people of her past she hadn’t fully shared with him. He longed for them to have what he did not, love and family and belonging. By now tears were shining in his eyes, and hers too as the song faded. His hands stilled, and then moved to the back of her neck to pull her close for a kiss. 

As their lips met, there was a sound behind them they both ignored, too eager for the comfort of each other's embrace. Then there was a distinctive sound of a foot tapping, and a chuckling feminine voice rang out.

“Well, it took you two long enough.” Rook exclaimed.

They broke away from each other in shock then, both turning it unison to see Rook standing at the open doorway to the music room. She had one hand on the hilt of the lyrium dagger cautiously, obviously having to come to investigate the noise but she stowed it away now. 

“Emmrich, they’re finally here!” She called over her shoulder, looking expectantly for him. She looked around the room then, and straight up at the ceiling. “And Cole, if you’re around, they’ve both made it here." 

Rook finally looked properly at the two of them now, sitting dumbstruck at the piano, their reverie broken by the sudden impossible sight. Emmrich arrived at the door then, clearly rushing but still impeccably poised. Manfred stood a ways behind him, looking in curiously. Rook finally took in the obvious curve of Ellana’s belly, and the way Solas had moved to put his body almost fully before her protectively, his arm thrown out in front of her. Her eyebrows raised up almost into her hairline, and she began to laugh, covering her mouth with one hand. 

“You two have certainly been busy.” 

Solas blushed furiously, his cheeks and the tips of his ears turning pink. He was speechless, the situation only just beginning to become clear for him. Ellana spoke up, her hands having come to rest protectively over her belly. 

“Rook, how have to come to be here? I did not think another physical being could enter this-”

She was cut off by Cole, who had materialised behind her at some point and spoke with his usual strange cadence. 

“No longer in purgatory, not the right place for them. With no prisoner it crumbles, nothing left of it. He found Hope, for him and her and them. Plans for the future they all deserve, regrets no longer a lock but just a part of him like any other. Still work to do, things to put right but this is enough for now.” 

Ellana put her hand to Solas’s chin, forcing him to turn back to her, locking eyes with him. His eyes were wide and vulnerable as he considered Cole’s words. He knew they had to be true or they could not have fallen from the boy’s mouth, he had spoken them into the air and thus made them real. Ellana brought her lips to his, her hand moving to his neck to steady him. She felt his heart thudding in his chest, his breathing ragged at the sudden turn of events.  She pulled back just enough to speak something across his lips, quiet enough for him alone to hear. 

“Ar lasa mala revas.” She whispered, tracing the lines of his new vallaslin gently. He leaned into her touch, letting his tears fall without shame. Emmrich took Rook’s hand then, leading her away to give the two of them privacy and room to talk. Cole continued to stand idly in the corner, a smile plastered to his face underneath the brim of his oversized hat. Anticipating her words, he serenely smiled at her. 

“Said to stay out of their private bedchamber, but free reign of the rest of the Lighthouse.”

Solas and Ellana both sighed softly then, and he loosened himself from her moving to stand over by Cole. He put his hand on the young man’s shoulder, and then leaned in whispering something she couldn’t hear. Cole nodded then, smiling and faded out. 

Left alone again, the two of them were home now but sharing it with several unexpected guests. She raised herself up then, moving back over to where he stood motionless and quiet. She came up behind him, weaving her arms around his middle, snuggling in close. He wrapped his arms around hers, sighing softly before he spun around taking her into his arms. He buried his face in her neck and she could feel his ragged breath, only just keeping himself together. The pocket of Fade he had sculpted to house the Evanuris was gone, the prison with its lock of regrets had disintegrated when the occupant was no longer bound, able to find hope and see a future for themselves. He felt he would be there an eternity, all the evils he had done in the millennia of his life weighing on him heavily for time immemorial. He had not realised how much he had been able to let go of, with her help, and because of her and their awaited children. 

He still felt enormous guilt at what he had done, the death of Felassan and the betrayal of the titans weighed heavy on his spirit. He felt worse still for the fact that he had been able to accept it enough that he could walk free from his personal purgatory. Even now, he did not feel he deserved it. He pushed the thought, unconsciously, to her through their bond. She grasped his chin fiercely then, scowling, pulling his face down to hers. 

“Ma’len , do not ever think you deserve anything less than contentment.” She said crossly, her eyes almost boring holes in him. He frowned, his face anguished as he considered her words. He was altogether too adept at torturing himself, and it was difficult to let go of the guilt he held so long. Her expression softened then, and she rested her hand gently on his cheek.

“Vhenan, we could not have manifested here in the true Fade without both of us wanting it. Believing that we could, that this was our home, correct?” She didn’t wait for him to answer, knowing she was. She continued earnestly, her eyes locked to his, needing to know he understood. 

“Ar lasa mala revas, vhenan. Truly. We are in the true Fade now. If you wished we could use the Vi’Revas to move anywhere in Thedas in a heartbeat. We can make our home anywhere.” She paused, taking a deep breath, calming herself as a thousand ideas ran through her mind. 

“We can bring our girls into the world somewhere safe and filled with colour and life. I was terrified of bringing them into that lifeless grey purgatory.” She whispered, closing her eyes. 

He tightened his grip around her then, pulling her to him fiercely. He sent her feelings of comfort and love and peace across their bond, trying to soothe her frazzled nerves.

“I know we still have work to do, my heart. You swore to help soothe the titans' anger and we will. Perhaps we can use some of the Veilguard’s help with it, I’m sure at least Rook and Emmrich would be willing to lend a hand. But it will have to wait until our girls are here and old enough to be left."

He looked like he was going to argue but she put a finger to his lips and he quieted. 

“No ma’len, you will not be going off to deal with this on your own. We will do it together, you will not be leaving me again. Not ever." Her tone was firm, leaving no room for argument and he did not try. Instead he just pressed his forehead to hers, magic thrumming gently where their marks met. His breathing had finally evened out, now soft against her face.

“Nuvenin, ma’las. In truth, now that we know we have manifested here I must confess I believe I may have felt it this morning.” She started sharply at this revelation, looking questioningly at him. 

“When we awoke from my dream still in Arlathan this morning, I thought I felt a minute shift in the Fade. Though I believe the triggering event may have been the night before." She almost blushed, thinking of how they had spent the night before but she just let him continue. His voice dropped to a whisper, so quiet she could barely hear it. 

“I believe it was you, ma’las, when you gave me your faith in me. It was the final push I needed. You change everything.” He kissed her then, his lips firmly pressed against hers as a bright golden light enveloped them both in a swirling torrent while they clung to each other.

Their future was bright, and they knew they would have each other. 

Beyond, two spirits of Compassion stood together rejoicing. 

“Together, and home. Him and her, the hurt cured and the regrets tempered for now. Two to become four! ” Cole spoke quickly, his unusual cadence persisted through his excitement. 

“Yes, a Homecoming for both of them. I am glad to see him return, his pain muted by her finally. There is much work to do and we will need to provide for them.” The Caretaker replied, his tone even. Cole fidgeted, pushing his hair up away from his eyes in an oddly human gesture. The Caretaker reached out a calming hand toward him, speaking softly. 

“Patience, dweller. There will be time enough.” 

Chapter Text

Rook and Emmrich left the Lighthouse that night, leaving the newly returned lovers the space and privacy they needed. While they had also made their place a home over the last months, they realised it didn’t truly belong to them and they did have other places they could safely be together. Solas and Ellana took a long time, enjoying the warmth of their embrace in the grey light of the music room. Eventually she pulled back from him, taking his hand instead. 

“Come, vhenan, let’s see this place. It may look different than we remember.” She said softly, pulling him along with her as she moved toward the door. 

Stepping into the main hall she immediately noticed the change, the central table scattered with cups and the remnants of a shared meal. There were papers there, diagrams and documents, several of Varric’s novels and an extra thick copy of the Randy Dowager Quarterly. She went to pick it up, noticing the cover labelled it as the 'Inquisition Exposed' and she flicked through it quickly seeing it was fully illustrated, salacious and thoroughly annotated in the margins in a hand that was intimately familiar.

Her mouth dropped open in surprise and delight and she turned to Solas who had stopped dead in his tracks, his ears a dusky pink. She giggled then, hiding her mouth behind her hand as he wordlessly confirmed what she was ready to ask. It was his, though it being here in the central chamber meant plenty of others had likely read it too. He crossed the distance in one stride and took the book from her, flushing even deeper. 

“It is complete nonsense, a total fabrication. I do not even know how they thought up such drivel…” He muttered, flicking open the book to a page covered in his neat, precise handwriting. “You would never say these things, entirely unrealistic and the drawings do not begin to do you justice…” He trailed off softly. 

“Perhaps you should write a letter to the editor, vhenan” She replied, trying to keep a straight face. Ultimately she failed, falling into giggles again which were swiftly cut off when he pressed his lips forcefully against hers. She felt the warmth radiating from his cheeks and smiled against his lips, bringing her hands to move into his soft hair at the base of his neck. She pulled back, whispering “I’m glad to know I was on your mind, even then ma’len.” 

“Bellanaris.” He replied softly. His cheeks were still flushed but his expression softened as he considered her words. “I told you I would never forget you and I meant it with all my heart. You were constantly on my mind, while waking and even as I lay dreaming. I hid myself well but I was ever on edge wondering when you would find me. Imagine my surprise when Varric did find my ritual site eventually and it was not you with him but another Dalish elf come to sound my downfall.” He looked thoughtfully for a minute, frowning. 

“I actually do not know how this specific book came into my possession quite honestly, it is not exactly my usual fare.” He made a face, and dropped the book back on the table like it might bite him. 

They heard an almost imperceptible laugh then, echoing in their minds, and he looked out over his shoulder toward the door leading toward the courtyard. He sighed and shook his head knowingly. 

She looked at him questioningly then, and he replied, “I suspect our resident Caretaker of meddling though they would call it something else I am certain."

“The Caretaker, they are still here?” She gasped softly. “I have thanks to give them.” It was his turn to look confused then, his hand coming up to brush her cheek.

“What thanks do you owe the Caretaker, ma’las?” She laid her hand over his still resting on her cheek, smiling softly.

“They got your letter to me, the one you wrote but never sent. Before your ritual…” She trailed off, seeing his expression darken. Instead she pressed her lips back to his, reassuringly squeezing him before pulling away. She looked into his eyes, deep violet and inscrutable.

“We had been so long apart, and you had finally disappeared from my dreams where I could at least see the shape of you every night. I thought you had properly forsaken me then, considered me dead to you just another casualty of your mission. To read your love for me so clearly on the paper, to see you call me your heart again after so long…it steeled something in me like a bubble of hope that could not burst despite everything telling me it should. It is much of the reason why I came to Minrathous at the end, knowing you still wanted me there." She stood on the tips of her toes then to press a kiss to his forehead, and he sighed appreciatively, his hands rubbing small circles across her back.

“It seems we both owe him thanks, then.” He replied softly. 

“He doesn’t need thanks, does it for enjoyment and because it’s right. What they need and want doesn’t always match." Cole stood leaning against the big oak doors to the courtyard, under the exquisite painting of their ritual joining. 

“Far be it from me to ask him to go against his nature, I suppose.” Solas replied, nodding at Cole. 

Later they found themselves retiring to their bedchamber, the ever present grey twilight of the fade seeping in from the open balcony door. They both undressed mechanically, quickly divesting themselves of their clothing and small-clothes and sliding into bed under the covers. His hands reached for her first, settling around her waist as he pulled her close, his hips to her bum. She murmured appreciatively as he brought his lips to the soft skin just below her ear, his breath soft against her neck. She was safe in his embrace, cherished , knowing he loved her and needed her and she was his alone. 

He moved to gently run his tongue against the tip of her ear and she let out a soft moan,  escaping her lips before she could stop it. He took the tip of her ear between his teeth, biting down softly as she whimpered, a pathetic needy sound falling from her mouth. She felt him tense and subconsciously push himself more firmly against her, hardening quickly at the sounds she was making. 

“You’re thinking about doing page seven with me, aren’t you?” She teased, pushing herself back against him, rubbing her body against him like a cat. 

He scoffed, turning into a choking sound as she sent him an image over their bond, her splayed over him working his hardened length down her throat as he lapped eagerly at her core above him simultaneously.

He growled then, pulling her back to meet his lips in a bruising kiss. He pushed his tongue into her mouth and she eagerly accepted, letting him explore her as he moved his body over hers pulling her under him. One of his hands came to tangle into her hair as the other moved to trace along the shape of her full breast. He broke the kiss then, moving his mouth instead to the hollow of her collarbone. She rolled her head back, allowing him better access as he sucked a new red mark against her flesh. He moved on then, tracing his lips along her collarbone until he made it to her sternum, moving down then to trail delicate kisses between her breasts down to her navel. 

She lay back, enjoying his ministrations, her hands in his hair running her nails along his scalp. He brought his head back then, suddenly taking a nipple into his mouth. She cried out at the contact, so sensitive she almost pushed him away, her nails digging into his scalp now. He broke away, pulling back from her, his eyes flashing with concern. 

“Vhenan, did I-”

“Just sensitive, ma’len, but enjoyable. Please don’t stop.” She replied breathlessly, rubbing her thighs together needing friction. 

He just nodded and brought his mouth back to her, his breath hot against her skin as he gently ran his tongue across her nipple. She was moaning wantonly then, pushing herself closer to him, needing more. He took her nipple back into his mouth finally, soft and so warm and sucked gently as she squirmed beneath him. His other hand began trailing slowly down across the curve of her breast then lower across her belly down between them. He dipped his fingers, moving gently across her soft curls, letting out a breath when he found her slick and wanting. She was pushed back against the pillows now, hair splayed out and eyes closed, letting him explore her the way he wanted. He knew exactly what she liked, she didn’t need to guide him any more. 

He ran a long finger between her slick folds, enjoying her ragged gasp and then gently pushed inside her tight heat. He withdrew the finger, finally breaking the contact with her breast and took his finger into his mouth. Her eyes opened then, meeting his as he sucked his finger clean of her juices, humming with approval. 

“Mar bellanaris rodhe ir’on, vhenan.” He almost purred, his eyes half-lidded as he looked over her. He moved his hand back to her, quickly pushing inside two fingers, curling them into her most sensitive spot as she gasped above him, her thighs now gripping him. 

She was muttering under her breath now in a mixture of the common tongue and elvhen, complete nonsense but he was enraptured by it and the lurid sound of his hand moving against her slick. He slowly added a third finger, stretching her just so and increased his pace as he felt her begin to shudder. He curled his body over hers, bringing his lips back to her ear. 

“Yes, vhenan, just so. Always so responsive to my touch, so perfect wife.” He whispered calmly, his breath hot against her skin. 

“But not just yet, ma’las.” He breathed, only his ragged breath an indication of his need. He pulled his hands away as he felt her climbing to a peak, bringing his fingers back to his mouth. She let out a pathetic mewling whine as he pulled back. She fixed him with a glare, breathing hard, wanting him to explain himself. He only smirked, the corner of his lips pulled back in amusement.

“I thought you wanted to do page seven with me?” He teased, smirking. 

She gathered herself then, pushing him back with two hands on his chest. He fell backwards with a surprised huff, laying on his back in the centre of the bed. She smirked now, before a shy smile came to take its place. 

“I would very much enjoy doing page seven with you, ma’len, if you’d like to try it…” She trailed off, looking over him eagerly. 

He nodded quickly in reply, a smile coming to his lips. He reached out to her, bringing his hands to her hips. He moved her over him, turning her so her back was to him and then brought her to rest hovering over his face. She prepared herself, bringing her body to lean over his, her face now even with his hardened length. She could see the faint throbbing of him to the beat of his heart, the veins running along his soft skin, and the bead of moisture at the tip. 

He held her there, his arms effortlessly holding the weight of her above him as she reached out with her hand to grasp his length firmly. He exhaled forcefully against her core, sending a shiver up her spine as she reached out with her tongue to taste his leaking tip. He gasped then, and pulled her down forcefully onto his face, bringing his tongue to move between her slick folds. She cried out in pleasure and surprise and pulled back from his cock lost in the sensation. He slowed, running his tongue languidly against her, as he sent a thought to her through their bond. 

Slowly, vhenan

She moaned softly in response, bringing her mouth back to his hardened length, taking him into her mouth. He groaned into her core and she felt his length twitch in her mouth, desperate for more but he wouldn’t dare push her. She began a slow, almost tortuous pace, bobbing up and down on his length, a lurid slurping sound filling the room which should have embarrassed her but only pushed her on. His hands were tight against her hips, his nails digging into her flesh as he moaned into her soaking core. His lips and tongue moved expertly against her, needing to bring her ecstasy even as he tried not to force himself further down her throat. She brought her golden left hand up to brush gently across his heavy sack, delighting when he bucked his hips uncontrollably, pushing further into her throat. He gasped, breaking contact with her finally. 

“Vhenan, ir abelas, I did not mean for-” He was cut off in a long groan as she took even more of him, her face now almost flush to the base of him. He returned his attention to her, his lips moving to suck at her swollen clit. 

He moved one hand up to lay flat against her back and she felt a great swell of his magic envelop the both of them. Suddenly she could feel what he felt, the feel of her weight on him, wrapped around him so perfectly. The warm, tightness of her mouth and the delicious taste of her juice in his mouth. She knew the sensation was shared, he could feel his tongue and lips and hands on her, how perfectly he knew her and touched her. The exquisite feel of him filling her mouth, how much she wanted him to enjoy this, to spill inside her mouth as she flooded his mouth with her. 

The sensation was entirely too much for the both of them and they reached a towering peak together, each shuddering and groaning. His hips bucked, pushing himself deeper as he emptied his release down her throat. He was too much and some spilled from her mouth as she pulled back, running down her chin. She contracted around nothing as his lips and tongue moved against her swollen clit, flooding him with a burst of her juices which he greedily lapped up, his face ending up covered in her. Feeling her slow above him he lifted her, bringing her to lay beside him. Her eyes were half-lidded with a mix of desire and release, still coming down. 

She reached out and wiped her hand across his slick face before running her tongue across her hand, tasting herself. His eyes were wild as he watched her, and then his eyes fell to the sight of his release dripping from her lip. He let out a low growl deep in his chest and crushed his lips to hers desperately before breaking away and licking her face from chin to mouth. He pressed his lips back to hers then, their tongues meeting again quickly as they tasted each other. They both pulled back eventually, breathless, and she pulled him to her so she was under him again.

“Well, apparently they did get page seven correct, my heart” She whispered against his ear, stifling a giggle. 

He laughed then, a warm rich tone of joy as he reached to the other side of the bed dragging a thick pillow with him. He beckoned for her to sit up, placing the pillow down under her lower back and then motioning for her to relax back. He moved himself properly over her then, his narrow hips between her thighs, and pressed himself firmly against her. He was no less hard from just having released himself down her throat and his length pressed against her forcefully now. She wrapped one leg around his waist, her arms moved to circle around his shoulders as he buried his face in her neck. 

“Ar lath ma , my heart.” He breathed, reaching between them to position himself. He lined his hardened length up with her entrance, moaning softly as he pushed slowly inside until he was firmly seated fully. She groaned breathlessly, pushing her head back into the pillows. He kept one hand steady on her hips, the other moving to tangle in her hair as he moved, thrusting into her slowly and deeply, rocking against her closely. 

They both still felt the ebbing magic of the earlier connection, the feeling shared between the two of them heightening the feeling. They both knew they would not need to be joined for long before both would be gasping again. He filled her so fully, the perfect fit, with his soft breath and moans against her ear. He felt the sentiment across their connection and sent her the same as he continued to push himself deep inside her. Eventually her hands started grabbing for him, digging into the flesh of his ass as she became desperate for more. Soon she was murmuring again in that broken mixture of the common tongue and elvhen and he felt himself becoming slowly undone. He increased his pace, spurred on by all the divine sounds she made. They were both becoming close, chasing a peak together.

“I want you to feel my ecstasy, ma’lan.” He gasped against her ear, his breath hot against her skin. 

“Sathan!” She moaned. “Please, join us again. I want you to feel all of me.” She gasped breathlessly, her high almost upon her.

His magic flowed inside her now from where they were joined, filling her with a golden warmth that grew once again to envelop them both. She felt her slick heat tightening around him, the feel of her soft flesh underneath him, her hair threaded through his fingers. He felt his hardened length driving into her now frantically, the weight of his body pressing her firmly into the covers, his skin warm and taut and his breath at her ear. It was instantly too much for the both of them, and they fell together over the precipice. She gasped as she contracted around him as he continued to move, and he moaned long and low as he continued to slowly thrust his release deep into her. Eventually he stilled, the both of them breathing hard, and he pulled back just enough to not be leaning his full weight against her. He pressed a gentle kiss to her lips, breathing hard and then pulled back from her just enough to slip out from her with a soft gasp from them both. 

He rolled onto his back then, pulling her with him so that she was lying against him with her head upon his chest. She could feel his heart still crashing against his chest, and he could feel through his fading magic that hers was doing just the same. He sighed contentedly, pressing a kiss to her temple as she snuggled close to him. They were home now, for the moment just the two of them, and he once again had to marvel at his good fortune. She sighed softly against him, clearly exhausted by the days’ revelations and the night’s exertions. Her breathing slowly evened out, and she whispered a soft “Ar lath ma” into his chest. He smiled, holding her close against him.

“Sweet dreams, my heart.” He replied softly. He didn’t receive an answer, as she was already lost to sleep. 

Chapter Text

His paws padded against the soft mud, the sound lost to the noise of the rainstorm. The thunderous deluge threatened to drown him as he stalked through the trees, following the scent and the sound of her . He moved through the brush effortlessly, winding a path through the thicket of bushes and trees that made their home here. He felt her fear again, pressing heavily against the back of his eyes, and he threw his senses out trying to feel for her. There! A silver spark, wavering, at the far horizon almost beyond where he could see. He rushed forward now, branches whipping at his snout, his paws sliding in the mud as he pushed to a run. The rain continued to fall in great drenching sheets, making it all but impossible to see the way ahead. He could smell her now, the acrid aroma of her fear and the metallic stench of her blood in the air. 

Her fear dug into his mind again, her terrified emptiness, alone and in pain. He rushed quicker, four muscular legs moving to a full sprint, breath coming in ragged gasps. Saliva dripped from his jaws, bared in a silent snarl. May the Dreadwolf take any who stood in his way now, he would not allow himself to be stopped. He heard her then, a long wail becoming a scream as she laboured alone. He saw it then, the demon pushing her to live out this nightmare, delighting in her agony and sorrow, feeding off her terror. Fear, the twisted perversion of a spirit of Hope, what she could become if she had ever been forced to turn from her original purpose. It took the shape of an enormous spider, eight huge spindly hairless legs wrapped around the walls of a log cabin he knew housed his heart, terrified and alone. Its eight eyes watched him, mockingly and he felt thoughts pierce his skull one after the other. 

You cannot save her.

She will never really be yours.

Someone else would have loved her better.

She would have lived longer if she had never met you.

You do not deserve her.

You will always end up alone.

He closed all of his eyes, shaking his head fiercely to block out the nightmare. Then he snarled, his fangs bared as he regarded the despicable creature. 

She lay on a small cot, in a log cabin somewhere in a clearing in the woods. It was pitch black night, with a chill in the air and the rain coming down in great drenching sheets. But she laid bare, covered in sweat from her exertions. Her thighs were thick with mingled blood and sweat, her face tear-stained as she laboured alone. Thoughts came to her, thick and fast and she couldn’t push them away. 

He will always leave you.

You deserve to be alone.

He will never really be yours.

You have disgraced yourself with the Dreadwolf.

Your children do not deserve a place with us, harellan.

She cried out again, a long wail becoming a scream. Then a growl, from outside and she felt her heart thud in her chest. A shining silver bubble of hope managed to well up, the demon too distracted to feed. She pushed herself up onto her elbows, listening, the pain lancing across her belly suddenly quietened. 

He launched himself at the demon, his jaws snapping closed over one of the enormous legs ripping it clear from the festering body. He threw it away with a shake of his head as the creature raged, screaming in agony. He snarled, feeling her hope begin to well in his chest, and leapt forward again. The demon darted forward with more speed than he could have expected, managing to bite him across the neck as his jaws closed across another leg. 

He howled then, wrenching himself free, feeling the blood flow from the wound. But he was feral now, his basest instincts taking over. She was right there, alone and vulnerable and he would not let Fear have her. He moved forward again, raking his claws across the great chitinous torso of the repulsive creature leaving a great scratch but not any lasting damage. He growled again as the creature moved to spear him with a great spindly leg. 

And then she was there, her hand raised to the creature as she unleashed a torrent of energy right into the creature’s eyes. They both watched as the electricity sparked between the eight eyes in a circuit, lancing through the mind and spirit of the creature. He made one last graceful leap then, up to the creature to bite it straight through the neck. Black ichor drenched him as the creature fell in upon itself, destroyed,  and he shook his head like a wet dog trying to dislodge it and the rain that soaked his coat.

She had collapsed to the ground, and now sat breathing heavily, leaning against a tree. The rain still fell, continuing to drench them both as he moved to her quickly. He shrank in size as he approached her, no larger than a normal wolf but with the same six glowing eyes, and he came to rest his head across her belly. She sighed, her breathing still ragged, brushing the fur down his back. 

“Just a nightmare.” She murmured, soothing him. “Just my nightmare, a regret of mine vhenan.” 

He didn’t speak, instead sending his thoughts to her across their bond. His thoughts in this form were more natural, truncated as though his mind worked only in emotion and instinct and mere seconds of time. 

Not just yours, mine as well. Dreamed together, joined without trying. 

She closed her eyes and sighed again at that. She rubbed her hands along his back, petting him, a comfort more for her than him. She took a minute to settle herself before she began speaking softly. 

“I made myself essentially clanless when I continued to follow you, so committed to trying to save you from your own plans. For the longest time my Keeper did not believe me, that you were Fen’Harel and that you loved me and that our stories were mistaken. To her I was just a naïve girl of twenty-five." She sighed heavily, before continuing with a frown. "When she finally did accept the truth she then pushed me away for following the trickster, for choosing you over them. I thought her so closed-minded, but she was just protecting the rest of them, a job she was preparing me to take over."

He was quiet for a long time, listening only to the steady beat of her heart. Theirs too, he could hear in her belly, quick and fleeting like the wings of a hummingbird. Safe and loved, his little wolflings. He would not let any harm come to them. He felt himself change slowly, the wolf fading and the elvhen beginning to take over once more. He wrapped his arms around her then, pulling her close as she buried her face in his neck. The rain finally eased then, becoming a fine drizzle. 

“Perhaps you should write to them, ma’las. Or we could arrange for them to visit the Lighthouse. If you feel that this is something you have left unresolved that you want to address then we can do it together, always." He brushed his hands through her hair, drenched and flowing down her back. He laid his fingers softly against her chin and pulled her face up to his. She was frowning, her eyes still tear-stained, and he felt a great protective swell of emotion for her. 

“I will never leave you to suffer alone. I make this vow with the utmost sincerity, my heart.” She saw and felt the golden warmth of magic envelop them as the vow began to take hold, settling on her shoulders like a cloak as she looked at him wide-eyed. 

“I will hold you to your word, and vow to do the same.” She whispered back, her silver magic settling on him then, basking him in a brilliant glow just as bright as his had been. His face shone with surprise at her words before she brought her lips softly to his. He wrapped his arms around her waist, carefully pulling her to him as he continued the kiss until they both pulled back breathless. She pressed her lips to his forehead, to his mark of Hope, before pulling back gently once more. 

“We’re done here, my heart. Let us leave this awful place.” She said softly. They both closed their eyes, not watching the dream as it disintegrated around them. 

He was hovering by his desk in the rotunda, hearing footsteps approaching. He hoped beyond hope that they were hers, that she was making her daily rounds to see him and continue her endless stream of questions. He knew it was a terrible idea to continue to entertain her, to encourage her, but the curious spark of her constantly surprised him and he enjoyed the feeling. And then she was there, standing before him as he had hoped and expected. She stood casually, but slightly too close to be friendly, leaning toward him just a mite too eagerly. 

“Inquisitor.” He greeted her, as casually as he could manage. His heart leapt when he saw her, as it always did, and he tried to stamp down on the feeling. 

“I’m interested in what you told me of yourself in your studies. If you have time, I’d like to hear more.”

“You continue to surprise me.” He said softly, amused. She seemed to have endless curiosity for him and he secretly revelled in it, carefully sharing much with her but never letting her get too close. He took a breath, making it sound like he was considering it first rather than the eager answer he wanted to give.

“Alright, let us talk. Preferably somewhere more interesting than this.” 

He sent her away then, an imperceptible magic impulse sending her to bed so they could enter the Fade together as dreamers. He went to his cot quickly, falling into the Fade as easily as closing his eyes. Then he was in Haven, walking up the snowy steps with her toward the Chantry. He was fully lucid, but she hadn’t noticed yet being catapulted into the middle of a dream. 

“Why here?” She asked.

“Haven is familiar, it will always be important to you.” He replied evenly 

“We talked about that already.” She said impatiently. She was becoming short with him already, he realised, her temper flaring. 

He didn't reply instead leading them through to the prison cell where he had first met her, where she lay after the Conclave. She hadn’t noticed the transition, still unaware she was in a dream. He thought for a long moment of what he wanted to say, what he could say without giving it all away. 

“I sat beside you while you slept, studying the anchor." He did not tell her the truth of it, that he studied it with the hope of taking it from her. That he marvelled at the strength of her to be able to hold it all, a mortal woman, a Dalish elf being able to hold even a fraction of his power. It was such an impossibility he was sure she would perish that night and he would be away with the anchor and moving forward with his plans. But the longer he sat by her studying he felt the intense strength and brightness of her spirit, the first since waking that had captivated him so.

“How long could it possibly take to look at a mark on my hand?” She questioned, bringing her eyes to his. She was far too perceptive, but his mouth lifted in a small smile. She always had endless questions for him. 

“A magical mark, of unknown origin?” He lied, a feeling of shame welling inside him as the truth tried to break free. “Tied to a unique breach in the Veil, longer than you might think. I ran every test I could imagine, searched the Fade yet found nothing. Cassandra suspected duplicity. She threatened to have me executed as an apostate if I did not produce results." The truth then, or a version of it at least, for she deserved that much. 

“Cassandra’s like that with everyone.” She joked.

He felt himself chuckling despite him, before agreeing with a quick “yes.” They were back outside then, still unnoticed by her they were in a dream, and he continued talking as if there had been no gap. 

“You were never going to wake up. How could you, a mortal sent physically through the Fade.” He was impressed, by the strength of her spirit that she managed to survive the trip. “I was frustrated, frightened. The spirits I might have consulted had been driven away by the Breach. Although I wished to help, I had no faith in Cassandra, or she in me. I was ready to flee.”

“The Breach threatened the whole world, where did you plan to go?” She asked, again too perceptive by far and he thought quickly. 

“Some place far away where I might research a way to repair the Breach before its effects reached me.” He knew immediately how ridiculous it sounded, and was unsurprised to see her eyebrows raise almost into her hairline. “I never said it was a good plan.” He added, almost sheepishly. He turned to the Breach then, high above them, a swirling green nightmare in the sky. He wanted the Veil down, but not before securing the Evanuris. To simply let the Breach stay and worsen would make all his plans moot. 

“I told myself, one more attempt to seal the rifts. I tried and failed. No ordinary magic would affect them. I watched the rifts expand and grow, resigned myself to flee and then…” He trailed off, lost in thought. She watched him, enraptured, not moving to speak. He turned back to her, his voice level.

“It seems you hold the key to our salvation.” He meant it, she held the key to solving the rifts and unlocking the orb in the palm of her hand. 

“You had sealed it with a gesture…and right then I felt the whole world change.” He said eagerly, not realising he gave himself away. 

“Felt the whole world change.” She asked softly, bringing her eyes shyly to his. He cursed himself, he had let her get too close. He hadn’t even meant to say it, the truth slipping out when he was unguarded around her. 

“A figure of speech.” He tried to clarify, weakly. She didn’t take the bait of course, far too clever for it. 

“I’m aware of the metaphor.” She said softly, moving toward him. Every thought was screaming at him to wake, to leave her here, to have her forget him. It was too far already, too much, too close. 

“I’m more interested in felt.” She continued.

“You change…everything.” He replied, unable to stop himself. He wanted to pull her into his arms, press his lips against hers and never let go. He wanted to know the feel of her and the sound she would make when they joined under a thunderous sky. 

“Sweet talker.” She teased, stepping closer to him. He looked steadfastly away, aware to look at her now would mean surrender. He steeled himself, readying to end the dream when he felt her fingers on his chin. She pulled his face to hers, pressing her soft lips to his. A short, almost chaste kiss before she pulled away looking mortified at his lack of reaction. 

She looked like she was about to apologise, so forlorn and contrite and before he knew it he was shaking his head in disbelief at her. He reached for her as she turned away, moving his arms to encircle her, leaning his body over hers and pressing his lips back to hers hungrily. He pulled back from her gently, still shaking his head but not knowing why now, pressing himself against her forcefully as their lips met again. She was so soft, secure in his arms and her lips so warm and sweet he never wanted it to end. She leaned into him, her arms around his waist and he felt a thrill to be wanted, needed by her, to know his feelings were shared. But the voices in his mind would not be quieted, he knew this was wrong, even here in the Fade. This was still real, still happening, if only between spirits and not their physical forms. He finally broke away, reluctantly. 

“We shouldn’t. It isn’t right, not even here.” He said breathlessly. His heart sank, the moment was over as he knew it would have to be. He should never have even let it go this far.

“What do you mean even here?” She asked, frowning

“Where did you think we were?” He asked, almost conspiratorially. He knew she would have questions about this later, that she would come running to him as soon as she awoke. He also knew he would wake and be unable to find sleep again. That he would pace around his desk, waiting for her, both hoping she would come and dreading her footsteps. She looked around, taking in the setting around them before looking back to him.

“This isn’t real.” She said softly. 

“That’s a matter of debate…probably best discussed after you wake up.” He replied. But he didn’t, instead sitting quietly as the memory of her faded from sight. He sat for a long while, before a voice broke him from his reverie. 

“I didn’t think to find you here, vhenan.” She said softly, coming to wrap her arms around him from behind. She pressed a kiss to his neck as he turned then to face her. 

“How long have you been here in the dream, my heart? Were you watching all this time?” He asked, frowning.

“It seems we are currently unable to dream without each other, and this is certainly a much more enjoyable dream than the one we just shared. This is one of my favourite memories of us from before, though I can understand it may be conflicting for you.” 

He had turned away, looking up at the Breach over her shoulder, still contemplative as his memories of her often made him. 

Her lips curled into a smile and she pulled his chin down and planted a kiss on his lips before pulling back quickly. He laughed, shaking his head at her cheek and pulled her to him. He pressed his lips to hers hungrily, enveloping her in his embrace until she could not see or feel or taste anything but him.  Finally he pulled back, the both of them breathing hard. 

“We may be in the Fade, but I believe with certainty now that it is real.” She whispered.

“It always was.”  He replied softly. 

Chapter Text

They stayed in their dream version of Haven for a long while, nostalgia drawing them to the place they used to linger together, outside his cabin. She used to almost run to find him there whenever she woke or returned from some mission, so eager to hear his voice. He always just stood there like he was waiting for her. It seemed like the cold did not affect him, standing rigid with his hands clasped gently, looking over the town serenely. At first she held a just lingering curiosity for him, the clanless mage who spoke in a soft tone and seemed to always have the right words. But then her heart had started to leap at the sight of him, a fascination and a yearning that sank into her chest whenever she caught the woody scent of him or heard the lilting tone of his voice. Her time spent with him was some of her best memories of Haven, when their burgeoning relationship was innocent and exciting. 

They had spent hours there, in the cold air of the Frostback Mountains, talking about everything she could think of. She had endless questions for him and he seemingly had endless patience with her. He approved of everything she asked, no matter how deep or shallow the question, how insightful or how casual. He spoke of the Dalish, of spirits and magic and the Fade, and his vast experience of dreams. He certainly intrigued her, even occasionally dipping into a flirty, teasing tone with his answers. He was witty and passionate and perceptive, and she was enthralled by him. 

In all those many hours he had never invited her into his cabin, standing empty behind them with the door closed. He had not brought her into the intimate surroundings, not thought to warm them in front of the fire and share a quiet evening of company just sitting together. She was the Herald of Andraste and he was only an apostate. There were appearances to keep up should her place of respect go unquestioned, and he would not do anything to hasten that. Moreover, she was a Dalish elf and a non-believer, there could not have been a more unlikely choice for a prophet. It would be all too easy for her to fall from grace, the barest mention of impropriety would have her under intense scrutiny. She knew now of course, he also purposely kept himself at a distance here, refusing to let her get too close. 

Free of obligations now they drifted slowly to his old space, moving out of the frigid air into the small wooden cabin he called home during their ill-fated time in Haven. He waved a lazy hand in front of the fireplace and the logs ignited, bathing the room in a warm amber glow. The cabin was small and simply furnished with a simple bed covered in furs really only big enough for one, a small table with several papers plus quill and ink, and a plush wolf pelt covering the wooden floor in front of the fire. 

He lowered himself to the ground, arranging himself comfortably on the pelt, his back leaning gently against the frame of the small bed. He reached up a hand to her then, motioning to join him, in the space between his legs. She smiled and took his hand, moving her other to his shoulder to steady herself as she half-fell into his arms. He chuckled softly, deftly catching her, manoeuvring her so she leaned against his chest, his knees raised either side of her. He wrapped his arms around her middle, bringing his chin forward to rest against her shoulder. She sighed softly, moving her arms to lie over his. They sat contented in silence for a long while, enjoying the warmth of the fire and each other's arms. 

Eventually she seemed almost to drift off, her breathing evening out, and he unwrapped his arms gently from her. He pulled back just enough to be able to move his hands without disrupting her, as he brushed her hair back from her neck. He noticed again his mark on her shoulder, and he felt a fierce possessiveness that he pushed away firmly. She deserved a safe hand after the horror of the earlier nightmare, and he was determined to be gentle with her just now. 

He gathered her hair between his hands, running his fingers gently through it. It was far longer now than when they had been together in the Inquisition. She had kept it in a dainty braid then, pinned back in a practical way to keep it off her face. He picked up an elegant mirrored hairbrush that was certainly not at home in his cabin, and began gently brushing her hair down her back. She remained quiet, resting back against him, not sleeping but just drifting happily on the edge of consciousness. She sighed softly at the feeling of the brush running gently across her scalp, and he smiled to himself. 

He closed his eyes, trying to remember exactly how her hair looked in her practical braids, quickly realising that was easier said than done. Whenever she had been near his eyes were always drawn to hers, or to her soft lips as she spoke. He remembered instead, far longer ago, how ladies wore their hair in the evenings of his youth. Far more elegant than practical, but he knew it would suit her beautifully. 

He set aside the brush and moved his hands towards her, though somewhat less certainly than before. He gathered her hair between his long fingers, separating it into parts, as he worked through the pattern in his mind. His hands weaved gently through her hair, bringing the long strands together in an intricate design. There were three thick braids which joined at the nape of her neck, her hair falling in gentle waves below to the middle of her back. The design was striking, and his lip curled up into a pleased smile. He allowed himself a small indulgence and pulled a small silver pin from the table next to him, affixing it to the point of the braid. It was decorated with the head of a wolf, six tiny amber jewels for eyes. 

She stirred again, and he leaned down to press a soft kiss to her temple. She sighed appreciatively and stretched, luxuriating in it as she pushed back against his chest. He laughed, a soft rumble against her ear and she turned her head to capture his lips in a delicate kiss. He pulled back gently, and he ran his fingers softly through the hair across her back. 

“What do you think, ma’las?” He murmured, sending her an image of his view of her. With it she felt his love and pride for her, a deep golden feeling in her chest. Her face lit up in a smile, and she kissed him again more firmly this time but just as quick. 

“I love it, vhenan, it's wonderful.” She replied softly, bringing her lips back to his again. He enjoyed her for a long moment, soft and warm and pressed against him. Eventually she pulled back, a look on her face he’d seen many times before. 

“Would you let me do the same for you, ma’len?” She asked shyly. 

He noticed a small flush in her cheeks that he delighted in, knowing she could still be nervous in his presence. Despite all the time they had spent wrapped up together, skin to skin, the new lives they were just about to bring into the world and all the battles they had fought and won together she was still nervous asking to touch his hair. He had to smile, a boyish grin as he pulled her close, turning her so they were chest to chest as he crushed his lips to hers. The breath left her in a startled gasp before she joined in fully, wrapping her arms around his neck, clinging to him fiercely. Eventually they came up for air, breathless. 

“I’ll take that as a yes, then?” She chuckled, and then she motioned to him to scoot around so their positions were reversed. He moved dutifully, an indulgent smile on his face. 

He got comfortable sitting between her legs, his back to her chest, his posture gentle but rigid. She leaned forward, bringing her lips softly to the long ridge of his ear. He moaned softly, despite himself, feeling his ears warm with blush. He cursed his poor self control, this was not meant to be about him, not meant to be for him but for her . How could she possibly still have such an effect on him with such a simple touch, she must be a desire demon to tempt him so thoroughly. She moved her hands into his hair, running her nails along his scalp and he felt a shiver of gooseflesh along the skin of his arms. He felt rather than heard her chuckle behind him, before she did something which took him by surprise. She leaned close toward his neck and took a deep breath, inhaling his scent. She sighed heavily, leaning back, her nails moving against his scalp again. 

“You always smell of wood smoke, you know…” She trailed off softly, gathering his hair between her fingers. 

She began to move her hands in his hair, weaving the auburn strands into precise segments as he sat quietly.  He let her work for a long while, his eyes closed, just enjoying the feel of her hands and the warmth of her belly against his back. Eventually she leaned forward, pressing her lips to the spot just behind the ear, earning a quick rush of breath from him. He turned then, his eyes meeting hers as she smiled shyly at him again. He reached up, feeling his mane of hair tamed into an intricate pattern of numerous small braids which came together at the back of his head with a leather tie. He had never worn his hair like this before, a distinctly Dalish style, and thought made a small smirk curl at his lip. He was glad she had thought to share this with him, honoured that she was willing to show this part of herself. Her Dalish heritage had been a point of contention for them before, though it was mostly misunderstanding on both their parts.  

She pulled him close then, one hand on his chin and the other at the base of his neck as she pressed her lips to his. Her kiss was suddenly possessive, needy, hungrily pulling him close, the depth of the kiss in her control. He could feel her heart thudding against him. He returned her kiss with just as much fervour, showing her exactly how much she was wanted - needed - by him. She was the stars and the earth beneath. She was everything to him, the only thing, all of it. 

She ran her tongue along his bottom lip insistently and he parted his lips, their tongues meeting, all too eager to taste each other. His heart raced now thinking of how she tasted like honey and lemon and something else he couldn’t place. They broke away then, breathless, both of them moving closer for more contact. He drew himself to his feet, moving his hands to grasp her hips and pull her up quickly. She pressed herself against him, leaning up on the tips of her toes to place her lips desperately back to his. He came to lean over her, enveloping her in his embrace, and they stood locked together for a long moment, bodies pressed close, nose to nose. Eventually the kiss broke as they came up for air and she buried her face against his chest, her breathing ragged. 

He could sense she was emotionally fraught, the sagging lines of her shoulders giving her away. He just gave her time, rubbing small circles into her back as she clung to him. The nightmare has shaken her - had shaken him too - and they needed this closeness with each other. Not desire but just intimacy, to be together sharing the same space. He waved a lazy hand over the both of them, and their clothing changed. He was shirtless in a simple pair of soft cotton leggings, her in his simple long white tunic. He took her by the hand then, moving over to the bed, not really large enough for two. He slid under the covers and scooted back against the wall, pulling her in gently to him. He wrapped his arm protectively around her middle, and pressed a gentle kiss to her neck. 

“You are always safe with me, ma’las.” He rumbled against her skin. 

“And you with me, my heart.” She replied softly, her voice thick with unspent tears. 

He lay still with her in his arms a long while, enjoying her warmth and her softness as her breath steadied and she drifted off to sleep. Once he was sure of it, he pressed a kiss to her temple  and consciously ended the dream, leaving Haven behind.

He awoke, comfortable and well-rested, curled around her with his arm thrown over her middle. She snored gently, her chest rising and falling evenly, still easily asleep. He pulled himself gently closer, pressing his face into her hair and inhaling deeply, enjoying the honey sweet scent of her. He smiled, letting his hands gently roam under the hem of her tunic against the warm skin of her middle. 

He thought it must be mid-morning or perhaps even close to noon, a long lie-in for them after spending much of the night dreaming together. He often found in the past a reluctance to wake from the Fade, not wishing for his exploration or reveries to end. It was no less intense here with her.  Indeed, their dreams together had been captivating beyond anything he had experienced before, shared with her effortlessly as though they were one spirit dreaming alone. He always found his existence easier in the Fade, less constrained, less pressure on his spirit than in the waking world. But it was no less real for having occurred in a dream, especially a lucid one that was shared between dreamers.

She hadn’t known what a rare quality this was, even for a mage, to be able to take control of dreams. She had needed to be shown the dream first to see it for what it was, but he knew even back then that she would be able to find her way in dreams in the future, even if it were not as intuitive as it were for him. He had wondered at the time if it were just a side effect of the anchor, his mark on her, that granted her some power she wouldn’t otherwise have. Similar to the power she channelled as a rift mage, drawing raw energy from the Fade itself. But it was only arrogance, he was just the catalyst that ignited the reaction. The magic and the will was all her, pulled from the strength of her spirit. 

He lay there a long while, enjoying the gentle sound of her breath and the soft feel of her skin against his fingertips. Eventually he pressed a soft kiss to her temple and pulled away from her gently, careful not to wake her, and slipped out from their bed. He padded quietly across the room, picking a pair of soft leggings from the dresser there and pulling them on, leaving himself shirtless with the wolf jawbone talisman around his neck. She seemed to enjoy him wearing it, and so he hadn’t taken it off in a long while. He turned back to see she had spread out across their bed, now laying on her back in the middle taking up every inch of available space. She looked delightfully soft and comfortable and he felt a huge swell of devotion for her as his breath caught momentarily in his chest. He half expected her to raise an eyebrow, tease him for staring but she just kept sleeping, obviously exhausted. 

He left their chambers quietly, coming through the portal to the music room. He distinctly heard voices then, in the main chamber beyond and was disappointed to learn their house guests had returned. The Vi’Revas only activated in response to two things - the lyrium dagger which acted a conduit or the passphrase imbued with his magical signature. He had given Rook his dagger, and so it was obvious that she had returned here. He was frustrated it had been so soon, though time did pass oddly in the Fade. Perhaps they had been away longer than it seemed. 

He waved open the door to the central chamber and was shocked at the scene that greeted him, as he was met with the surprised faces of not just Rook and Emmrich, but Dorian Pavus. He sat there wearing an immaculate teal robe, his moustache exquisitely curled as it always was, holding himself in a relaxed slouch looking like he'd made himself at home.  Solas felt his eyebrows raise almost into his hairline, as Dorian waved a lazy hand toward him.

“See, I told you he always had a horrific fashion sense. Now he swans about without even a shirt on. The indecency, honestly, I have no idea what she sees in him. Never did!” He spoke to Rook, as if Solas weren’t standing right in front of him. 

Solas felt a flush rising, not of embarrassment but anger. This was his home, the space he had built for himself and made into a home with her. He regarded Dorian and Rook coldly then, both laughing as if he had told some hilarious joke. 

“Feel free to leave at any time, neither of you were invited.” He levelled his gaze at Dorian, who just smiled delightedly rubbing his hands together. He moved his glare to Rook then, who just raised an eyebrow. He stood for a moment, nobody saying a word, everybody too proud to back down or apologise first. Emmrich, ever the voice of reason, interjected softly both hands raised in a warding gesture. 

“Please accept our apologies, Solas.” He said placatingly, throwing a quick glance at his younger paramour. “Forgive the intrusion, we came across Archon Pavus here as we dined yesterday evening at the Cobbled Swan. We mentioned that Ellana was here with you and doing quite well. Master Pavus desperately wanted to come and see her. We thought there was no harm in it.” He spoke softly, his hands clasped in his lap, the many gold bangles on his forearms shining in the dull light. 

“I make no such apologies.” Dorian snarked, smirking. “I am only here to see her, you and I have little to say to each other. Rook told me all about what you did to her, and to Varric. That's in addition to everything I already knew you did before.” 

“He didn’t mean to. Child of stone stood in the way. Thousands of years of best laid plans. A distraction, the dagger bloody, didn’t mean for it to plunge so deep. An accident in all but name, one he regrets.” Cole was suddenly there, next to Solas, his eyes wide and blue under his oversized hat and shock of blonde hair. 

Dorian regarded him carefully, mulling over his next words. “You remember what I said about hats, don’t you Cole? They really don’t suit a young man like yourself. And besides, it’s still his fault as Varric was only there because of him and his bloody stupid ritual.” The snark continued, the frown which had started to form on Solas’s face deepening. 

Solas wanted nothing more than to remove all these interlopers, infringing as they were in his home he had come to cherish with her. They were ruining the peace, discussing his regrets as if they were a simple list of events from a historical text, laying bare his many sins for casual perusal. But he knew that she would want to see Dorian, he knew they had been very close during the time they spent with the Inquisition. 

He flashed back to that dreadful night in Crestwood when he had taken her vallaslin and broken both their hearts. He felt a quick pang of guilt, and an anguish that sat in his chest and left him breathless before he pushed it away. After Crestwood she had spent more and more time with Dorian, high above his space in the rotunda, their voices carrying to the floor below. For weeks there was only anger, confusion and sorrow.  But eventually the other man had coaxed laughter back to her, and he had been left with both a pathetic yearning and a seething jealousy that it was not his embrace she enjoyed. To see him here now, laying the blame directly at his feet where it firmly belonged, gave him an uneasy feeling of inadequacy. 

Solas sighed, resigned, running his hand through his hair. He paused, brows drawn in a deep frown, when he noticed Rook stifle a giggle behind her hand. 

“What now, Rook?” He asked, his tone frosty. 

Rook couldn’t help it then, she chuckled softly before replying, “Oh, it’s just that you and Dorian here look like you use the same barber.” She smirked, looking between them both. Dorian looked horrified as he noticed the similarity. 

“The same!” A loud hissing voice cried, as Manfred appeared next to Cole, pointing a bony finger at each man.

Solas rolled his eyes then, shaking his head, muttering a curse under his breath in Elvhen. This was testing his patience, and there was nothing for it but to go and get her. Hopefully she would handle them, and he could retreat to his office for a time. Away from here, from their juvenile taunts and judgement. 

“I will go wake Ellana, but I’m warning you not to push her. She had a terrible night, and she needs to not overexert herself.” He fixed Rook and Dorian with a stern gaze, not looking away until there was recognition there, and a small nod from both. 

He sighed, stepping back through the music room and into the portal to their bedchamber. She was just where he left her, sprawled out in their bed, but now had her golden arm flung across her face. He climbed back onto the bed next to her, resting his hand gently against her face. 

“Ma’las, it is time to wake up.” He said softly, stroking her cheek. She just groaned, moving to roll away from him onto her side. He smiled, pulling himself in close behind her, pressing his lips to her neck. 

“Come now, there’s a surprise waiting. One I think you will enjoy, but you must get out of this bed and get dressed, vhenan.” His voice was softly muffled, as he spoke into the crook of her neck. 

He dragged himself out of bed then, the urge to stay there with her almost overwhelming. He moved back to the dresser, pulling on a tunic and picking out a simple set of small clothes and the white cotton dress which was her favourite. She finally dragged herself out of bed then, moving slowly over to him. He held out the small clothes to her in offering, but she ignored them, wrapping her arms around his waist instead. He pulled her close for a moment, pressing his lips to hers delicately before pulling back. She pouted, clearly upset at their morning being rushed. He finally thought to end the suspense then, and brought his eyes to hers as he spoke to gauge her reaction.  

“Dorian Pavus is here to see you.” 

“Dorian’s here!” She exclaimed excitedly, suddenly taking the proffered small clothes still grasped in his hand. She slipped them on quickly, taking the cotton dress from him as he wordlessly offered it.  He felt a quick pang of possessive jealousy, to see her so excited for this man that she raced to get dressed. He must have sent it to her subconsciously over their bond, because she suddenly stopped with the dress pulled down mid-way over her belly, her eyes coming to his quickly. He schooled his expression into polite disinterest, but she obviously knew better, taking his hand softly, her eyes searching his. 

“Ma’len , you know it’s not like that with Dorian. It never was, you know his preferences.” She said gently but firmly, in a tone that allowed no argument. She softened then, seeing him still tense, his expression unreadable. “And besides, I loved you before he and I even became friends. I would never want more with Dorian.” 

She stood on the tips of her toes to kiss him then, pressing the curve of her belly against him as if to remind him of the physical proof of their love. He smiled against her, as he received a shimmering feeling of devotion from her. Her dress was still caught above her belly and he knelt quickly, pressing a kiss to her soft skin there before pulling the dress down the rest of the way. He circled around behind her, wrapping his arms around her middle, resting his head against her neck. She sighed happily as he gently rubbed his hands across her belly, delighting in the tiny phantom movements of their growing spark. Eventually he pulled himself away with a sigh, took her hand in his, and led her back out through the music room to the central chamber. 

The door opened and Dorian clapped eyes on her, a bright smile beginning to form as he saw her excited grin. Then his eyes fell to the curve of her belly and he began to laugh, looking between her and Solas. 

“I honestly didn’t think you had it in you, Solas!” He teased, almost doubling over with laughter. Solas just rolled his eyes, but Ellana noticed the tips of his ears had gone a dark shade of pink. 

“She obviously did.” Rook quipped under her breath.  

“Dorian.” She warned, in the tone she always used to use with him. 

“Oh no, don’t you start. You’re a wicked woman, my dear. After all this time away you don’t even write - or use the bloody stone I gave you - to let me know you’ve returned and you’re alright?” He was wagging a finger at her, holding it still then to silence her reply as he continued. 

“And now I see why, you’ve certainly been enjoying your time with the apostate hobo, haven’t you?" He jabbed his finger at Solas, almost an accusation. He softened seeing her frown, and continued more softly. "It does look good on you darling, I must say.” He went to her then, pulling her into a fierce embrace. 

Solas felt his heart start thudding, that surge of possessiveness rising again. He wanted nothing more than to grab the other man and hurl him away from her, the rational part of his brain knowing this was a completely ridiculous unwarranted feeling. He carefully stamped down on it, sending her a feeling of reassurance when she caught his glance with a frown. 

Rook and Emmrich moved to make themselves scarce for the time being, retreating to the kitchen to take tea together. They took Manfred and Cole with them, for which Solas was grateful. Dorian pulled Ellana over to the sofa, offering his arm to help her lower herself down. 

“Let’s get you off your feet then, seems like your wolf here will have me for dinner if I let anything happen to you.” He smirked at Solas, who only glared back in response. Solas had wordlessly seated himself opposite in an overstuffed armchair, feigning polite disinterest. 

“So, boy or girl then? Or will it be a surprise?” He asked, conspiratorially, his hand covering his mouth as if hiding the question from Solas. Solas just rolled his eyes, letting Ellana answer the question honestly. 

“Two girls.” She said softly, rubbing her hand across her belly fondly. Dorian’s eyebrows rose at that, for twins were not a common occurrence in any culture across Thedas.

“Well, you two have your work cut out for you then. If you ever need someone to watch them, call Rook. I’ll be busy.” They both laughed then, and Solas finally relaxed a fraction. 

They spent a long while catching up, on what Dorian had been doing in Tevinter and how he had come to be elected Archon. He spoke passionately about the changes he planned to make, to usher in a more hopeful age for the Imperium. They discussed the rebuilding efforts, only just beginning, Minrathous still a starkly blighted ruin. Suffering a dragon attack and then the all-consuming wrath of the All-Father, it would be a long time indeed for normal business to resume. But people were resilient, life had to go on, and so the shops and taverns kept their doors open for any patrons they could tempt in. It would be a journey, but it had to begin somewhere. The Shadow Dragons had been invaluable, their new partnership with the Threads an open secret. 

After a time, Solas moved to her to give her a gentle kiss on the temple before leaving the two of them alone. He had seemed to relax, to realise that this was safe and he could leave her with him to discuss freely, recognising she may wish to talk about him and she deserved her privacy. As soon as he left, Dorian spoke up in a concerned voice.

“Are you truly safe here, darling? Happy, with him and all of this?” He waved his arm over her belly, and the new vallaslin that had not gone unnoticed on her face. Rook had evidently blabbed, as she had seen the shape of his spirit in his memories and put two-and-two together. 

“I am happier than I have ever been, Dorian. I love him more than I knew I had the capacity for, he is just my other half. We are a part of each other, our spirits bonded.” She smiled serenely, the sincerity on her face unmistakeable. She reached up then tracing the delicate golden lines of her new vallaslin. She had the pattern memorised, the brilliant golden shape of him. 

“This is merely a mark of my love for him, and it came to be through my choice. Did you notice he had a new mark as well?” 

Dorian nodded slowly, a small smile coming to his lips. “Yours, I take it? And this, specifically?” He pointed at her belly, raising an eyebrow. 

“What about it?” She asked, laughing. “The usual way, if that’s what you’re asking.”

He laughed too then and for a long while, wiping away a quick tear before continuing. “You ridiculous woman, I’m not asking how. I know how much you pined for each other before. I saw the eyes he used to make at you, years ago, when he thought nobody was watching. I bet you didn’t even last one evening in that Fade prison before you jumped each other.” 

“Well, not a whole evening no…” She trailed off, a small smile on her lips as she thought of their first night together. 

 “Strumpet!” He declared, looking faux scandalised. His features softened then, before he continued, “But you are happy for this, both of you?” There was genuine concern written on his face, for an old friend he cared deeply for. 

“Yes, both of us are very happy. It was not intended, and was a surprise but they are joyously awaited and dearly wanted.” 

“It shouldn’t have been a bloody surprise, given you were probably all over each other. You two do know how this works, correct. If not, you should probably learn before you end up with five more.” He teased, and she felt herself blush. 

“Definitely not five more.” She replied, chuckling softly. “Though I did certainly enjoy the process.” She added, smirking. 

Dorian just shook his head, exasperated. 

Dorian ended up staying for the evening, the group of them taking a meal together around the large dining table. Emmrich had cooked an old recipe of a vegetarian moussaka that had been a favourite of his mother’s. Rook had busied herself in the kitchen helping, with Manfred on hand as well. Cole never ate with them, if he ever ate at all, but he lingered at the far end of the dining room as they all sat down together. Solas had retreated to his study upstairs for a long while, giving Ellana some time to reacquaint herself with her old friend. But he came back to her now, slipping his arm around her and pressing a kiss to her cheek. She smiled and he gave her a loving squeeze before he let her go, taking the seat directly next to her. Dorian sat directly opposite, giving Solas an exaggerated sarcastic bow as he took his seat. 

“How wonderful, sitting to take in a feast with Fen’Harel. What will I be blessed with next, I wonder.” Dorian smirked, taking in the almost imperceptible flash of something that moved across Solas’s face. 

There was a long beat of silence, Rook steadfastly looking at her food and Emmrich politely looking away with feigned disinterest. Ellana cleared her throat, about to speak before Solas put his hand gently on her wrist and shook his head at her slowly. He levelled his gaze at Dorian, taking a moment to consider his words.

“Fen’Harel is a name that was given to me, a title used mockingly by many who would have delighted to see me destroyed. All who used it joyfully are now dead because of my own folly, or destroyed by my own hands. I would prefer Solas, though I would understand if you would rather we not interact again. You are welcome here for as long as Ellana enjoys your company, I will not begrudge her that.” 

Ellana didn’t speak, just sent her feelings to him across their bond. He was filled with the shimmering silver of her hope, and the all-encompassing feeling of her love and acceptance and dedication for him. He also felt her gratitude, for she did not have many friends and this obstinate, impossible man before him was one of them. He just smiled softly at her as she squeezed his hand, and looked back to the other man with his eyebrow raised in silent question. He would take the high road, let Dorian fall if he wanted to. 

But Dorian just inclined his head slightly, a fragile peace apparently having been made. “I haven’t forgiven you though.” He stated, matter-of-factly. 

Rook spoke up then, jumping in before the two men could continue talking.  “Neither have I! And I won’t, no matter what.” She had stopped pretending to not listen, throwing away the pretence now and crossing her arms, a scowl fixed across her face. 

Solas just sighed, and looked at Ellana with an exasperated look. He fixed Rook with a withering glare. “You need not be reminded Rook that you are free to go as you please, nobody is forcing you to be here. Do you not have a home amongst the Veil Jumpers? Surely they have work you could be doing.” His tone was icy again, clearly fed up with the menagerie he was being forced to entertain in his own space.

“Well I’d love to just leave you both here Solas, but your…boy said that you’ll need help and I believed him.” She looked around for Cole, finding him loitering in the corner as usual watching with interest from under his fringe and oversized hat.

Solas frowned at Cole then, and Ellana could tell they were having a silent conversation she was not currently privy to. It continued for only a few moments, and then Solas sighed and turned back to the assembled group. 

“Fine.” He said almost begrudgingly. “We may have need your expertise in future, so please feel free to use the common areas of the Lighthouse.” 

Emmrich spoke up then, having maintained silence through the conversation so far. “That is most gracious of you Solas,  we will do our utmost to be as unobtrusive as possible. And perhaps while we are here we could have that conversation you promised, the Mourn Watch has so many unanswered questions.” 

Solas smiled almost in spite of himself, always eager to share his knowledge with those it would not be utterly lost on. He nodded, saying “Of course, Professor.” 

Eventually, everyone went their separate ways for the night. Cole faded off as he often did, while Rook and Emmrich retired to the meditation room together. Manfred wandered off somewhere, following a wisp he was apparently deep in silent conversation with. Dorian took up residence in Neve's old office, evidently eager to rummage through any documents she might have left behind. Rook would be taking Dorian back to Minrathous in the morning, helping him navigate the Crossroads and the eluvians beyond. As Archon he could not explain away more than one day of absence, though he now could visit with a quick word from Ellana. 

Ellana and Solas retired to their room, with him waving a casual hand over the portal as they entered. She raised an eyebrow at him, and he replied “Just ensuring we won't have uninvited guests tonight. I do not wish to be interrupted again.” 

Her heart leapt into her chest, and she went to him, throwing her arms around his neck. He pulled her to him, towering over her, pressing his body firmly against hers. He pushed his lips to hers hungrily, one hand moving into the hair at the base of her neck. He pulled away after a long moment, breathless. He had an inscrutable look on his face as he regarded her for a long moment. 

“What is it, vhenan?” She asked softly, her eyes searching his for meaning.  

“I have an even better idea, come with me ma’las.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead and closed his eyes. She followed suit, trusting him to guide them once again. She felt the air shimmer around them almost imperceptibly, signalling they were no longer in the Lighthouse. She opened her eyes and they were suddenly under a great shining blanket of stars, the night sky black and dazzling above them. He put a finger to her chin and lifted her face to his, capturing her lips once again in a fierce kiss. They broke apart, their breathing ragged. 

"Where are we, ma'len?" Still in the Fade, I know but this place is familiar - the night sky - we have not been here together, have we?" She looked to him with wide eyes, questioningly.  He took her hand in his then, lifting it to his mouth to brush a light kiss against her skin. 

"This is my recreation of a piece of the Free Marches, my heart. Outside Wycome, near the Minanter river. Within the roaming range of Clan Lavellan, your home. These stars are yours." 

Chapter Text

“How did you come to know the pattern of these stars, vhenan?” She murmured, gazing open-mouthed at the black sky. 

He saw the light shining in her eyes, reflecting off the tears that had begun to well there. He frowned, moving his hand back to the back of her neck. Tears had not been the reaction he was hoping for when he thought to create this for her. He felt a quick pang of guilt and worry, and he spoke quickly trying to explain himself. 

“I have always been captivated by the beauty of the night sky ma’las.” He brought two fingers to her chin and lifted her face gently,  pressing his lips to hers. She closed her eyes and leaned into him, wrapping her arms around his waist loosely. He pulled back slowly, bringing his lips to brush softly against her forehead and the golden mark she held there. 

“I am sure you noticed when we travelled together, my interest in the constellations and how their nature can be examined using the Astrarium. I am sure it did not escape your attention that we have one at home, in our music room.” He moved his fingers to work the stiff tendons in her neck, enjoying her soft sighs as he dug his fingers in. 

“I admit, I did not know this particular star pattern until I sought out the star charts just recently. Even before your nightmare, I knew that perhaps you missed this place or held some regret for it - homesickness or some unresolved thing. I thought perhaps we could recreate it together, my memory of the night sky and yours of the rest.” He looked to her eagerly then, an earnest look on his face. He felt a warmth rush to his ears and cheeks and realised he was nervous, unsure of what her reaction would be, hoping it would be delight rather than anguish. 

He didn’t need to wait in suspense long, as she made an excited noise and threw her arms around his neck pressing her lips to his. He kissed her back fiercely, pulling her tight to him in a crushing grip. She was on the tips of her toes to reach him, lifted almost off her feet by him. Eventually he pulled back, smiling fondly at her. Her eyes still shone, but with something else now. 

“I shall take that as a yes, then?” He asked, chuckling softly. She nodded eagerly, and his face broke into a boyish grin as he took her hand in his. 

“Come then, ma’las. Let us walk the space, and see how we can mould the Fade together into something from your memory.” 

They walked slowly, hand-in-hand, taking in what she now saw was an empty void, what would have been a grey expanse if not for the star-lit sky above. He had sculpted a tiny section of Fade with enough intent for them to come here, but left enough of it blank for her to fill in the many gaps. They came to an abrupt stop, and he turned to face her with a serious expression.

“I want you to picture your camp, your home as it was when you were the First of Clan Lavellan, just before you were sent to spy on the conclave.” He spoke evenly, his gaze fixed to her as she regarded him nervously. 

“Close your eyes, my love, and imagine how it was. What stood where we are now? Remember the shape and the colour, the sound and the scent. Picture them clearly in your mind, sharp and real.” 

She closed her eyes, seemingly doing as she was bid. He resisted a strong urge to quickly press his lips to hers, to steal a kiss while she wasn’t expecting it. He saw her lips twitch and got the impression she had noticed, or felt it across their bond. 

“There would have been an aravel, there…” She trailed off softly, pointing off to their left. 

“There is no need to speak out loud, vhenan. Simply picture it in your mind, hold it there fully formed and realised and then push the thought out into the greater Fade. This is no different than how you utilise rift magic, use your connection to the Fade to mould it to your will. Magic is only will made manifest, and it is easier here than anywhere.” 

She was quiet for a long moment then, and he began to worry that he had said the wrong thing, that he had pushed her too hard. But then as he looked around he saw shapes begin to take form, grey and incorporeal at first and then gaining colour and texture and reality. He could feel her pulling at the edges of the Fade, drawing it in to build this sandbox they were standing in. 

Her brow was furrowed in deep concentration, her golden hand held aloft in the air in front of her. He felt a surge of pride as he watched her manipulate the energies of the Fade in a way that had taken him thousands of years to perfect. 

The shapes had fully coalesced then as he watched, bringing into view a small haphazard village made of vibrantly coloured canvas tents. Each one was decorated with vines in red or green, with freshly cut herbs hanging across the threshold. There was a large central firepit, a blazing fire burning which began to bathe the two of them in warmth. Around the outside perimeter there were a number of caravans ringing the tents in a protective circle, crimson sails gleaming in the firelight. He knew her people called these aravels, an essential part of their nomadic lifestyle. He wondered how long she had spent here , specifically, before her people had moved on to pastures fresh. 

She still had her eyes closed, chewing her bottom lip as she often did when she was concentrating. He took her free hand gently, bringing it to rest over his heart as he watched her create. He was enraptured by her and this, as she continued to pull at the Fade, bending it easily to her will. A small creek began to trickle slowly past them, picking up speed, becoming the river he knew was named Minanter. A small number of graceful halla began to form, before the enclosure that was meant to house them had fully materialised. Several of them began to wander off, and she tsked gently but made no move to correct it. 

Her eyes were still closed, lip still between her teeth as she concentrated, a sheen of sweat now beginning to form across her forehead. Her hand was warm against his heart, and it began to roam across his chest and up his neck. He let out the breath he had been holding when her hand moved into his hair, running her fingers through it. 

“Almost done.” She breathed, her eyes still closed. 

Two final items then, swimming into view together. Just two final tents, clustered together. One elaborate, large enough to house several others inside. A painted sign stood out the front, declaring it to be the dwelling of the Keeper. The far smaller tent next to it had a wreath of elfroot hanging above its threshold, the tent-flaps pinned back to let in a warm summer breeze. He knew immediately, this had been her home. She let out a relieved sigh, opening her eyes and flashing him a self-satisfied grin. Realising her hand was still on the back of his neck as he lingered close she pulled him down to her with all her strength. She chuckled, apparently delighted, in the rush of breath from him as he was almost pulled from his feet. Her lips met his once more, but he pulled away quickly before they could become too distracted in each other. 

“How does it feel to be here, my heart?” He asked softly, his hands lingering at her waist brushing small circles against her skin through the thin fabric. 

She took a long moment to consider, looking around at the place properly. She pulled away gently, taking his hand instead as she led him through the cluster of tents to an aravel in the back that had a broken sail, one side sagging noticeably. She approached quietly, their footsteps making barely any noise as they made their way across the soft earth. She kept hold of his hand as she approached the caravan, reaching out her hand to brush against the sagging sail. 

He felt her pulse quicken, her hand becoming clammy to the touch. He waited for her to speak but she stayed silent, lost to a reverie. He reached out his senses instead to her, sending her a quiet reassurance as he gave her hand a gentle squeeze. She looked up to him then, a sad half-smile coming to her lips. She nodded her head toward the aravel, and he noticed now the lack of care taken in its upkeep. It looked disused for a long time, the paint peeling, several small rips in the sails.  

“This is where I was born, and years later where my mother died.” She said softly, tearing her eyes away from him and back to the aravel. “I was very young when she passed, and she was never a maternal woman so I was raised more by the clan than her. She was almost half my age now when she passed, a lifetime ago.” She raised her eyes to his then, her expression thoughtful. 

“Well, what would have been a lifetime had I continued living here. If I had never become First, or gone to the conclave. If I had returned here, without my head full of tales of the Dreadwolf, my vallaslin intact, and if my clan had taken me back.” She hung her head, closing her eyes. 

His heart sank then, thinking of her regrets. How all of this was him, the orb and the anchor and his inability to keep his feelings to himself. His whole world had changed, and he had left an even larger mark on hers, the ink indelible and for all to see. He was a fool to think he could have simply pushed her away, undone all they had experienced together, leaving her bare faced. He had thought to do her a service by removing it, but it forced her to be an outcast with no explanation for why. She felt his regret then, seeping insidiously across their bond and she reached for him, physically and in spirit to comfort. 

“I do not want it, vhenan, and would not have wanted it then. I was happy to leave them for the conclave, I fantasised about running away and leaving them more than once. I was only made First because of my magical abilities, a title that was bestowed without my permission before I could even speak the word.” 

She took a deep breath, steadying herself. She looked into his eyes, still finding doubt there. The Dalish held their traditions closely, the ones he had met were steadfast in their denial of anything too challenging for their worldview. She could sense he found it difficult to believe she would turn her back on them, despite the circumstances. 

“If I had stayed, or returned after my business with the Inquisition was done I would have been forced to bond with the Second of Clan Lavellan. It was already pre-arranged, as these things always are amongst the Dalish. I was five and twenty and a grown woman, and the future of the clan. It was essential I bond and produce a…family.” She faltered on the word, seemingly not enjoying how it felt in her mouth. 

“You would not have had a say in it, even as First?” He asked, his eyebrows raised. 

“Especially as First.” She sighed. She waved an arm lazily over the haphazard pile of tents, as she considered her next words carefully. “This would have been mine, the responsibility of dozens of lives and the keeping of the ancient traditions that we misunderstood like children. Our marks just a slave brand, our gods only men and women who thought themselves above it all.” 

She swept her arm back and cried out wordlessly, unleashing a torrent of Veilfire toward a weathered stone idol of the All-Father, shattering it into dust. The figure next to it, feminine and crowned was next, obliterated into dust which blew away in the wind. The next figure was placed at the far edge of the camp, faced out toward any would-be intruders. 

She walked over to the idol slowly, almost pacing around it as if it were a living being. The real Fen’Harel of course was with her, this was only a stone statue of a wolf, no meaning held in it at all. Just the two normal eyes, not glowing or possessed with any preternatural spirit. 

“Their stories couldn’t have been more wrong. They poisoned my mind against you before we had ever met.” Her eyes shone with tears again when she finally found the courage to meet his. He moved to her quickly, pulling her gently into his embrace, wrapping his arms tightly around her. Her belly was nestled safely against his hips, her head against his chest. He knew she could feel his heart crashing as he held her close. 

“The Dalish call upon you to smite their enemies, they leave offerings to placate you so you would not take them or their loved ones. They see you as the Betrayer God of trickery, a traitor, He Who Hunts Alone. But they’re wrong, all of them. You were not one of them, yet if you had been you would have been the best of them. The only one who could see the corruption as it gathered around, turning them black and rotted.” 

His heart thundered in his chest and his spirit soared at her words. She was always so perceptive, far too clever and she saw right to the heart of the matter. He had brought her here for her, but she still somehow managed to share the catharsis with him. He felt an overwhelming swell of pride and devotion for her, and he moved both hands to grip her face and pull her up to him for a bruising kiss. She threw her arms around his neck, deepening the kiss by pulling his bottom lip into her mouth. Their tongues met and he found she tasted of honey again, sweet and perfect. He moved one hand from her cheek into her hair, running his fingers through it gently. Eventually she pulled back, her breathing ragged and her lips swollen. 

He wanted nothing more than to lose himself again in her embrace but he had come here for her, to help her find some peace with this part of herself.  He would not deviate from that plan, not unless she made it clear to him she wanted that. He felt her grasp his hand again firmly, pulling him along with her as she moved to another aravel on the far side of the camp. He thought they were going to step inside, but instead she moved around to the rear where the hitch was attached. She stood for a moment, considering whether to speak. He looked at her with his eyebrows raised, not speaking but sending her a thought over their bond. 

We promised each other the truth, no matter how large or small.

She smiled softly, waving her arm at the caravan in front. “This is where I had my first kiss, in my youth. We were found by my Keeper.  She was apoplectic with rage, the poor boy caught a hefty flogging. I only got a disapproving lecture on how my conduct was unbecoming and how I would end up like my mother if I weren’t careful. But our children will not be raised Dalish, I will not give them the Lavellan name. They do not need it, and I do not want it for them.” 

Solas felt the rage well up in him then, finally stoked by her Clan’s rough treatment of her. He had been unmoved by their lies about him, angered by their veneration of the other Evanuris but their cruelty had finally pushed him. How could they treat his Hope like this, her shining silver spirit only dimming in their company. She had made herself clanless for him, had chosen him over them even after he had left her. 

She sensed his wrath and laid a steadying hand on his chest, moving it into the open neck of his tunic to feel the warmth of his skin. His breath caught at her touch, and then raced as she moved her hand away and brought both hands to roam under the hem of his tunic instead. He felt her fingers across the taut skin of his belly, tracing the thin line of hair that disappeared beneath his breeches. She was giving him a different look now, and he was close to giving in, with her seemingly having made some kind of peace with this place. 

“Come.” She said, abruptly pulling her hands away and putting her arm around his waist. She led them quickly to her old tent, the wreath of elfroot still hanging above the threshold and the sweet smell of honey drifting from within.  

Chapter Text

The inside of her tent was threadbare, like his cabin in Haven had been. The floor was covered in animal skins and pelts to ward away the cold. There was room enough for a comfortable looking wooden bed piled high with soft covers, and a side table with a small hand mirror, a soft hairbrush and a lit lantern emitting a weak glow. There was a staff leaning against one wall, leather wrapped crudely around the middle with the rest of the shaft plain and unadorned. A stack of books were carelessly piled in another corner, the covers leather-bound and worn. 

The tent was only just tall enough for him to stand, coming to a steep pitch in the centre. He waited for her at the threshold, letting her take the first step while he held her hand firmly in his. She didn’t hesitate, ducking through the open doorway, pulling him inside with her. It was silent save for the rushing of distant water from the river that flowed past, hurtling toward oblivion at the far edge of the Fade. She turned to him as he stood silently silhouetted in the doorway, backlit by the fierce glow from the bonfire behind. He took two small steps inside, stopping just short of her as she held up a gentle hand. 

She cocked her head to one side, her eyes dragging slowly across his form. His heart thudded in his chest under her silent observation, her obvious approval sparking a needy pang of longing. Her eyes were dark with desire and something else when she dragged them back to meet his. She stepped toward him slowly, like a wolf stalking its prey, circling him until she came to stand directly behind him. He held himself still, calming his breath as she pressed herself gently against his back. She moved to wrap him in her arms, both hands reaching around his neck. He felt her hand close over his wolf jawbone talisman and then was surprised to feel her gently lift it from him. He stooped, allowing her to reach up and pull it over his head. 

He found his voice then, coming out lower than he expected. “I thought you liked it when I wore the charm, vhenan.” He rumbled, expelling a long calming breath. 

She moved around him now, coming back into view, so close he could feel her gentle breaths. He was sure she could hear his, and the sound of his heart crashing against his chest. She brought her gaze back to his, one side of her mouth lifting into a teasing smile.

“I thought perhaps you would like it when I wore it, my heart.” She almost purred, pulling the charm over her head to rest between her full breasts. The sight filled him once again with a fierce possessiveness, a need to claim her that was almost overwhelming, the primal part of him he kept locked away baring its teeth at his ear. He fought to keep himself under control, his eyes surely wild, and she had no idea what she was doing to him. 

“Careful, ma’las.” He warned softly, taking a deep breath. She was quickly derailing his plans, what he had wanted for them this evening, to bring her closure and release. He prided himself on keeping his quiet control but here she was tempting him, deliberately goading him, and he wanted nothing more than to give in. 

She moved slowly, right up to him until her chest and belly brushed softly against him. He caught the delicious, heady scent of her then and breathed it in deep. He felt another intense pang of need as he realised the depth of hers. He could feel his leggings tight across his straining erection, begging to be let free, to be buried in her exquisite tightness. But he would not make the first move, not here in her tent, this had to be directed by her. He was almost begging her, silently pleading for her to touch him, leaning into her body. 

She stood on the tips of her toes, bringing her face to the long point of his ear. She ran her tongue against the length of it right to the tip. A ragged moan escaped him before he could stop it, his resolve finally beginning to crumble. And then it broke, with five simple words from her, pressed sweetly into his ear. 

“May the Dreadwolf take me.” She whispered, the words sounding like a prayer falling from her lips.

A growl emerged, unbidden, from deep in his chest as he brought both of his hands to firmly grasp her hips. He pulled her forcefully to him, crushing her to his chest as she let out a surprised gasp. And then her arms were wrapping around his neck, pulling his face down to hers as she pushed her lips against his hungrily. His hands were digging into the flesh of her hips, holding her tight as if she would run but they both knew wasn’t going anywhere. Neither of them broke the kiss for a long moment, her hands tangled in the hair at the base of his skull, pulling him ever closer as if she could climb inside him. His hands moved, roaming across her, coming to lie across the soft flesh of her ass as he towered over her, blotting out the light.

Caught up in her he took her bottom lip between his teeth and bit down, hard enough to draw blood. She gasped and he pulled away, his heart racing, an apology already forming on his lips before she pulled him back again. He could taste her blood on his tongue now, coppery but still sweet and it stoked his desire even higher. Her hands had found the hem of his tunic again, moving quickly under it and across the smooth skin of his back. She dragged her nails across him, drawing a sharp intake of breath from him against her mouth. He felt her smile, a satisfied hum leaving her and her hands moved away. He felt the loss of her touch, disappointed as she pulled back but then she was pulling his tunic roughly up and over his head. She let it drop to the floor, pressing herself back to him, their lips meeting again. 

He closed his eyes, feeling both her hands move softly across the taut skin of his belly and chest. The golden fingers of her prosthetic thrummed with her magic, leaving a trail of gooseflesh as she dragged them across his skin. She finally reached a nipple and he gasped, becoming a ragged moan as she rolled the tight bud between her fingers, bringing it to a stiff peak. Her other hand was moving higher, back to tangle into his hair, running the silky auburn strands between her fingers. He was thoroughly becoming undone through her attentions, ruined by the simple touch of her fingers. He pushed himself against her, needing her to feel the heavy weight of his straining erection against her.  He took such delight in her soft moan and how she rubbed her thighs together. 

Her hands moved then, lower, between them to trace gently along the outline of his clothed length. He bucked against her hand, gasping, desperate for any friction. He wanted nothing more than to spread her thighs and push himself inside her, the heady perfume of her lingering in the air like a desperate lure. He knew she was wet and ready for him, so tight and perfect, his to claim. His thoughts were interrupted when she moved away suddenly, pulling herself gently from him. He was breathing hard, his eyes locked to her, knowing he looked a mess. She was there, still fully clothed, his wolf charm around her neck and a small smile on her lips. She was a dreadful tease, and she was playing a dangerous game. He would claim her before the night was done. 

She moved to stand by the bed, and the small table which held the few belongings she kept here. She reached up both hands into her hair, pulling free the small number of pins that kept her hair secured out of her face. Her long waves of her hair fell loose then, falling against her back and shoulders. He wanted to go to her, to bury his face in the elegant curve of her neck and breathe in the scent of her skin. His hands itched to touch her, to touch himself , to feel any contact at all but he calmed himself. He would do what she wanted, only ever what she wanted tonight, as this was for her. Every part of him was drawn taut like a bowstring, waiting for the attention he hoped she would give. 

She ran one hand down the leather cord of the wolf jawbone, tracing one finger slowly along the jaw and the sharp points of the teeth. He took in a sharp breath seeing her treat it with such reverence, and her eyes drew back to his then. Hers had become violet again, like his, an effect of the Fade and their shared desire. Her hands kept moving then, each of them coming to run along the curve of her breasts, covered in the thin fabric of her cotton dress and brassiere underneath. She moved to cup a breast in each hand, kneading them gently, a soft moan escaping her lips. 

His hands at his sides were balled up into fists now as he looked over her, his long nails digging shapes into his palms. His breath was caught in his chest, his eyes wide and unblinking, watching her intensely. Then she slowly turned, her back to him now, reaching for the hem of her dress. Her fingers found the edge, dragging it slowly up her thighs and then over the generous curve of her ass. He felt a wild rush of desire and longing as he saw her thighs were covered with slick, her smallclothes soaking. Her delicious perfume now saturated the air, and he felt like he was swimming it, a vortex pulling him ever closer, desperate to taste her. 

She continued her slow undress, her back still to him, unaware of the effect she was having on him other than the sound of his ragged breath. She pulled the dress up, over the curve of her belly and then her breasts. Then it was over her head, thrown in a heap next to her. She looked back over her shoulder then, meeting his eyes again, desperate to know he was enjoying the show. He didn’t speak, unable to form the words he needed to say, sending her his thoughts instead over their shared bond. 

Such an exquisite creature, so perfect, just for me. Cannot do this much longer, my heart.

Her lips formed a sinful smile, and she turned her body half-toward him so one half of her was bathed in light. She quickly brought her hands to the clasp at the front of her chest, deftly unhooking her brassiere. She pulled the simple garment off quickly, throwing it down with their other clothing. She slowly moved to cup her bare breasts as he watched, her fingers brushing gently across the soft skin. She moved both of her hands away then, slowly down her front, the golden fingers of her left hand dragging softly against her skin. He guessed that she had imbued it again with magic, as she moaned softly at the contact. He felt his hardened length twitch, as if reminding him of his desires, as if he could possibly forget them. Not much longer, he told himself, and his thick shaft would be glistening, covered in her slick.  

She finally reached the waistband of her drenched smallclothes, hooking her fingers through and sliding them down her thighs slowly. The patch of soft hair at the apex of her thighs was soaking, beads of slick gathered there from her teasing. She rubbed her thighs together then, obviously desperate for any contact. She finally stood naked, only the wolf jawbone around her neck, holding her smallclothes by the finger on one hand. Something flashed across her face then and her lips drew into a wicked smile as she almost sauntered over to him. 

He had been holding himself in a rigid posture, his bottom lip caught between his teeth, brows drawn into a frown as he concentrated on keeping his composure. As she approached her perfume became overwhelming, his mouth watering at the prospect of a taste, falling open in anticipation. She stood right before him then, barely inches between them. He controlled himself still, until she reached for him and begged for him he would be resolute. Instead, she slowly offered him her drenched smallclothes, bringing them to his face for him to inhale. 

“Ma’haurasha.” She murmured. “Look what you do to me with the barest thought.” 

His hands came up to grasp her soaking smallclothes firmly, bringing them to his nose and inhaling deeply. In her scent he could feel her desire, her desperate need for pleasure and release that only he could give. Her perfume was like a spell he was under, drawing him ever closer to where they both wanted him. But she still hadn’t asked for him yet. He pulled his face away finally, and she pushed her lips firmly against his. But she pulled away quickly, clearly not finished with her tease. He put one hand to her chin then, looking into her eyes with mingled trust and openness, and naked desire. 

“Tell me what you want from me, ma’las . I am yours, tell me what you need. Please.” His voice was low, his breathing ragged, the lust barely contained. He hadn’t realised the irony yet, of him begging her. She leaned close, bringing her face back to his ear. She again ran her tongue along the long point, evidently delighting in the rush of breath from him again. She seemed to consider for a moment, possibly torn until she made up her mind firmly. 

“I want to watch you touch yourself while you think of me.” She whispered, her breath hot against his ear. 

He let out a soft moan despite himself, before nodding and replying, “If this is what you desire, my heart. Where would you like me?”

She pulled back, pointing her golden fingers at the bed. He noted with satisfaction that her breathing was now ragged too, as he moved slowly toward her small wooden bed. He lay down on his back, shirtless but still in leggings, barefoot as he usually was.  

He held out his arms to her and she joined him, laying over him, her breasts flush against his chest. She moved her hands quickly into his hair, pressing a bruising kiss to his lips and then quickly pulled back before he could wrap his arms fully around her. She lay back on her side, her head propped up by one hand, her other hand stroking small circles against her hip. Again, he wanted nothing more than to slip between her thighs and push himself inside her gasping. He could feel something deep inside clawing to get out, could feel the feral need lying just under his careful reserve. The time would come, but for now he would do exactly as she asked. 

His hands moved slowly to the waistband of his leggings, the same ones he always wore, soft and green and comfortable. They were tightly tented now, straining against his erection as it begged to spring free. The front was wet, evidence of his intense need, and he noticed her eyes were drawn to it. Slowly he pushed his leggings down, just enough to see the dark patch of reddish hair he had there. He heard her breathing quicken, saw her eyes flash dark and violet. He quickly pushed the fabric down then, his hardened length springing free finally with a small moan from the both of them. 

“Do you want me to leave these on?” He asked softly, gesturing to his leggings pulled down just below his hips. 

“Yes please. Leave them on, vhenan.” She replied, her voice breathy and tense. He noticed the golden fingers of her hand digging into the flesh of her hip, a bruising grip on herself. 

He took a deep breath then, moving his left hand to drag across the taut skin of his belly up to his chest. He let his fingertips find a nipple, tight with anticipation. A small moan fell from his lips as he circled it, before running the pad of his thumb across the tight bud. He fully groaned then, moving to roll the nipple between his finger and thumb. He had closed his eyes, his hair messy behind him as he lay against her pillows. 

“Yes, vhenan . Just like that, keep going.” She whispered, her voice so soft it barely reached him. He whimpered at her words, moving his other hand lower to caress the silky skin of his hardened length. He bit back a hiss at the touch, before fully taking himself in his hand. He pumped himself slowly, running his thumb over the bead of moisture gathered at the tip. He moaned softly, caught up in the moment. 

His eyes still closed, caught up in his exploration of himself, he didn’t notice her move until her lips closed around his thumb. His eyes shot open, a ragged gasp escaping him as she sucked the essence from him, her tongue running in swirls against the pad of his thumb. His eyes were wild, his hands both stilled as she hummed appreciatively before pulling away, her eyes gleaming. 

“Ir abelas, vhenan. I couldn’t help myself. Please, continue.”  She was breathing heavily, watching him through half-lidded eyes. 

He nodded gently, returning to his ministrations, his hands now far less steady. He grasped his shaft with a firm pressure, picturing her in his mind as he began a steady rhythm. He remembered all the times her hands had gripped him, her mouth, all the times she had pushed him back and ridden his lap as he had clung to her. His moans were constant now, soft and ragged, as he remembered just how much she enjoyed hearing him. He wanted her ruined and begging for him by the time he was done, and he knew looking at her now that she was well on the way. Her chest was heaving, one hand moving back to knead the flesh of her breast. 

Slowly he increased his pace, pushing his head back into the pillows as he worked to a furious rhythm. He had enough of the tease. He needed to join with her, to throw her down and mount her and claim her again. But she would not until he was finished, and so he raced to it now, jerking his shaft roughly as she watched, enraptured. 

“Just like that, vhenan. You’re doing so well, exactly what I wanted. You’re perfect, don’t stop. I want to watch you come.”  She murmured, the words rushing out. Her voice was so sweet, but faraway, his mind cloudy with desire. 

The pressure had built in his belly, a wave of pleasure building toward a towering precipice as he listened to her ragged breathing. Her words spurred him on, rushing him toward a release he desperately needed. But more than that he needed her, he always needed her, and now he begged for her touch, never slowing from his frantic motions. 

“Please, vhenan. I cannot,-I need you to touch me, please!” He cried brokenly, begging. “Your hands, your lips, anything ple-” 

His voice was cut off in a long moan as her lips swallowed the tip of his cock, her hand coming to continue the furious rhythm he had begun. The new sensations were all too much, her firm grip and the exquisite soft wetness of her mouth pushed him over the edge. Two, three, four pumps and he threw his head back groaning as he spilled himself in her mouth, her tongue moving across him desperate not to waste a drop. She continued moving her hands and mouth, milking the last of his release as he gasped breathlessly. Then she pulled away, and he fully collapsed back against the pillows, his eyes closed trying to catch his breath. 

A few moments passed as he enjoyed the glow of his release, physically sated if not for the primal desire which still demanded satisfaction. There was still the matter of her pleasure too, the thing he had hoped to stoke and satiate tonight before she had subverted his expectations. He was broken from his thoughts by the sounds she was making, a low gentle moan and then his name on her lips. His eyes snapped open, taking in the sight of her fingers gently rubbing through her slick folds. He felt that dangerous part of him rise up again then, the Dreadwolf’s mate would not have to bring about her own pleasure. He knew what she liked and he would bring her to a peak like no other, even herself. 

Surprising even himself with his speed he moved over her, pulling her into the centre of the bed by her hips. She let out a startled gasp, her hands moving to grasp his in shock. Then their eyes met, hers wide with surprise and his with desire, as he brought both her arms above her head. 

“I need to make you come, vhenan. I need to hear you cry my name in ecstasy.” He murmured, his hands releasing hers, his body already moving over hers. He didn’t wait for an answer, but she gave one anyway, a wordless nod as she lay back in anticipation. 

He moved between her thighs, pushing them roughly open with both hands as he took in the sight and scent of her. He breathed deeply, his heart racing, desperate to taste her. He looked up at her above him, finding her watching him intently. With a pang of guilt he realised he had broken his own rule, taking what he wanted. She noticed his frown, and reached a hand down to brush against his face.

“Please, ma’len. I need you to taste me. We’ve waited long enough” She whispered, and then she threw her head back gasping as he moved forward and took her swollen clit into his mouth. 

She tasted so sweet, like honey but juicy like some precious fruit and he lapped at her like a man starved. He was desperate for her, his pulse racing in his neck, his length fully hard once again as he bucked against the mattress. He delighted in her moans above him, loud and ragged, begging him for more. She was writhing above him, squirming trying to get more contact. He moved one hand up to rest firmly on her lower belly, pressing her gently into the mattress. He brought two fingers on the other hand to her slick folds, pushing them gently into her core as far as they would go. 

“Fenhedis!” She cried brokenly, continuing to gasp as he pumped his fingers slowly. He let go of her clit then, and pulled away just enough to speak. 

“Not just yet, my love." He joked, smirking. She reacted by moving her hands into his hair, pulling his face roughly back to her core. He didn’t pull away again, moving his lips back to her sensitive bud as he pushed a third finger inside. She gasped at the stretch, and started a mewling whine that got louder as he began to curl his fingers to her most sensitive spot. 

He closed his eyes then and began to hum, imbuing his lips and tongue with a slight magical spark that he knew would thrum exquisitely against her. As soon as it did he felt her begin to buck above him, and he steadied his grip on her, holding her down as he moved to finish her. He moved his hand frantically, his fingers circling against her as his lips moved against her clit. She began calling his name, pleading with him in Elvhen and the common tongue. 

“Lasa em rosas’da’din, sathan!” She finally cried, desperate, her thighs closing around him. 

He pushed a single thought to her then, his mouth and hands occupied, his eyes closed as he enjoyed the taste and sounds of her. He imbued his words with a heavy golden spark of his magic.

Garas sul’em, ma’lan  

The effect was immediate, she convulsed above him, clenching down hard on his fingers, bucking her hips against his face as she threw her head back in a scream. It continued a long moment as he lapped at her core, continuing to move his fingers as he drew out the moment of pleasure. They were suddenly bathed in a brilliant amber light as the bonfire outside doubled in size and intensity, suddenly stoked by his magic and her intense need. 

He caught the acrid smell of smoke then, dimly aware that he had probably stoked her desire slightly too much with his magic. But that was outside, they were safe in here and he would not break away from her now. He slowly removed his fingers, continuing to slowly run his tongue through her slick folds until she brought her hands down to still him. 

She caught his hand then, and pulled him up to her with all of her strength, taking his three fingers into her mouth. She sucked them clean, running her tongue across him as he watched her with his mouth open and eyes half-lidded. His desire was fully stoked again, his need for her desperate, his hardened length jutting out toward her begging for her touch. 

“Ma’las, I believe this pocket of Fade may be in danger of breaking down. It might be best if we return home.” He spoke reluctantly, not wanting to leave this place, wanting only to throw her legs over his shoulders and bury his thick shaft inside her.

“Are we safe here, for a time? I need you to claim me, ma’len. I don’t care if it all burns, this place is already lost to me.” She whispered, her eyes never leaving his, her chest rising and falling heavily. 

He just nodded, dragging himself up over her, pushing his length against her belly. His lips met hers fiercely before he pulled back, and with a hand on either arm spun her around and pushed her into the covers face down. He pushed his leggings the rest of the way down, kicking them off. He moved himself over her, firmly grasping one thigh and pushing it up to give himself easier access and a better angle. He pressed himself gently against her back, leaning some of his weight against her but not all of it. He brushed a soft hand against her cheek then, his voice clear and earnest. 

“Will it be comfortable like this, my heart?” 

“Yes.” She gasped breathlessly, “Please vhenan, I need you.” 

He idly noticed the sound of crackling fire outside then, the flickering lights from the flames bathing them in golden light and throwing shadows across the canvas of the tent as the Fade around them burned. He pushed his hips against the soft flesh of her ass, enjoying her moans as he grasped his throbbing shaft and pushed it against her slick entrance. He moaned too then, desperate to plunge deep inside her. Instead he pushed inside her slowly in one movement, rolling his hips when he reached his limit so that he moved against her most sensitive spot. 

She was moaning beneath him, pushing her hips back trying to get more of him. He whimpered at how needy she was, how much she desperately needed him. He felt that primal urge rise once again and seated inside her tight slick he couldn’t deny it any longer. He brought one hand to her shoulder, the other resting on her hip as he began a deep, furious pace, pushing her into the mattress. 

He was growling low in his chest, the obscene wet sounds of their coupling mingling with the crackling of the growing fire outside, an exquisite symphony pushing both closer to their completion. It still wasn’t enough, and he pulled back from her slightly for a different angle. He almost slipped completely out of her, and looking down caught sight of his throbbing cock, hard and glistening and covered in her slick. The sight drove him wild, completely feral and he drove himself back inside her forcefully, enjoying her surprised gasp becoming a long moan as she arched her back against him. 

Her arms were thrown above her head now, her body pushed flat into the mattress, her face flush against her pillow, one thigh still propped open supporting her weight. He moved to fully push his weight down on her, threading his arms under hers, using his grip on her mattress edge to pull himself closer with every thrust. His cheek was pressed firmly to hers as he thrust into her frantically, barely pulling out, deep strokes that brushed against her most sensitive area making her gasp for him. He noticed the wolf jawbone still around her neck and moved his lips to the soft skin there. She gasped as he pressed his nose into her skin, inhaling her scent as if he wanted to remember it forever.

She continued to gasp and he could feel her moving toward another high, desperate for him to bring her there. She began to move a hand down to search between them for her sensitive bud but he smacked it away, pulling her hand back above her head as he took the point of her ear into his mouth. She made a pathetic mewling sound then, so needy for release. He chuckled, the beast within pleased at her desperation for him. He let go of her ear, pressing a soft kiss there.

“You begged for the Dreadwolf, my love.” He whispered darkly. 

“Please!” She cried brokenly, her voice muffled by the pillow. 

It was her pleading that finally pushed him, and he let his magic flow between the two of them until it quickly brought them both to a precipice. His thrusts were frantic, one arm now thrown carefully around her neck gripping her opposite shoulder as he claimed her. In just a moment she was shuddering, her exquisite heat gripping him even tighter as his name left her lips. The flames outside grew even brighter, the sound now a roar as he felt himself come to the edge and finally peak. He buried his face in the curve of her neck, groaning her name as oblivion claimed them. 

They were back in their bed then, still joined, his body pressing down on her firmly. The intense glow and crackling of the fire was gone, replaced with the usual dim perpetual twilight from the open balcony door. He slumped against her, his breathing ragged and heart pounding out of his chest. He could feel hers too, his arm still tight across her chest. He rested his cheek again hers, a small smile on his lips. 

“Vhenan ?” She murmured softly. 

“Hmm?” He replied, his eyes half-lidded, still in a daze. 

“As much as I am enjoying this, you’re squashing me. You’re quite heavy, you know.” 

He pulled back immediately as if stung, leaning carefully on one arm as he gently pulled out from her. He rolled her onto her back, bringing his hand up to her chin. 

“Ir abelas, vhenan. I did not mean to hurt-” 

She pressed her lips to his, silencing his apology before it could fully leave his lips. 

“I’m fine, my love. Not hurt at all. And I did ask for it.” 

He breathed a sigh of relief, moving to lay on his side next to her. She rolled onto her side then, and he pulled her close to him as he always did. He laid a gentle hand across her belly, a small part of him still worried despite her assurances that she was fine. She noticed of course, too perceptive by far. 

“If it’s bothering you ma’len you can always check on them. They’re a part of you too, I would never say no.” She whispered gently, tiredness now creeping into her voice. He silently cursed himself, he had admonished the others only earlier today, telling them she shouldn’t overexert herself and he’d managed to do that very thing. He cuddled up against her, pressing his face into the soft curve of her neck.

“I do not need to check, ma’las , I trust you if you say you are well.” He murmured, running his fingertip idly against the edge of the wolf jawbone she still wore. 

She snuggled comfortably against him, her soft bottom nestled safely between his hips, as they finally drifted off to sleep. He knew she was safe and contented in his arms. The Dreadwolf’s heart, his shining silver hope.

His. 

Chapter Text

Dorian had left by the time she awoke the next morning, the Lighthouse still and quiet as Emmrich, Manfred and Rook had all decided to escort him back to Minrathous together. Cole was still lingering about, she was sure, preferring to remain hidden until he was needed by them. She had left Solas sleeping in their bed, slipping gently out from his embrace and throwing on a robe before padding out of the room quietly. The central chamber was empty, save for the papers and mugs left on the table from the evening before.

She noticed something new though, a lovely teal envelope with her name in dainty lettering on the front. Picking it up she noticed it was delicately perfumed, with a wax seal on the back that she recognised as that of the office of the Archon overlaid with the initials DP. She smiled to herself at the gaudy presentation, just like him, and carefully tore open the end pulling a single sheaf of paper free. The letter was extremely short, and she laughed out loud to herself as she finished it. 

---

Ellana, you dreadful woman. 

Never take off like this again, you almost killed me with worry. 

Call for me if you ever need, I will make the time. Remember the sending stone, if you ever need an ear. I know you took it with you.

Please don’t let him do anything so stupid again, will you? I quite enjoy life as it is right now. 

All my love,

Dorian x

P.S. I meant what I said about five more, have some sense you impossible harlot.

 

She folded the letter, continuing to smile to herself, putting it back on the table. The visit from Dorian had energised her, the outside perspective she didn’t realise she was so lacking. She had been so caught up with Solas, enveloped in his embrace like there was nothing else in the world, happy and content to just be his. Dorian’s visit had reminded her of her fierce independence, her wilful spirit, the stubborn wicked streak she had and so enjoyed. Solas was her world, the forest and the bright moon beyond, her everything. She would be his, always, and she felt that she always had been. Their joining an almost forgone conclusion, the inevitable outcome of their meeting years ago. 

But it was an almost overwhelming feeling to again have a friend. She had many companions and acquaintances of course, from her time working with the Inquisition to working against the Blight in the Southern territories. But few people she could call friend, and fewer still she would consider to be close with. When things in Minrathous were calmer, perhaps when the rebuilding was well underway and the Venatori truly tamed then maybe she could visit with Dorian. She knew Solas’s intense distaste for the Tevinter empire and their resolute defence of slavery but with Dorian at the helm she hoped he could see that practice to a swift end. 

She knew she and Solas could leave the Lighthouse at any time now, using the  Vi’Revas to move anywhere the Eluvian network led. She had been to the world between, The Crossroads, several times. She was not as experienced there as Rook and her team or as Solas of course, but she knew the basic principles. She held a secret longing to visit her old world again, to feel the real Sun shine on her skin and the cool rushing water of a stream wash away her sins. She knew he would take issue with it, her safety paramount especially now with only a couple of months left before they were expecting to welcome two new lives together. Moreover she knew he was far more comfortable here, in the grey light of the Fade, his spirit more at home amongst the ether than beyond the Veil where he was blunted. 

And where would they even visit? She had left the Southern territories under the control of her second-in-command when she left for Minrathous. The region had already become a Blight-ravaged quagmire overrun by Darkspawn, and she had updated Rook every time there was yet another final stand. She was hopeful that with the last Archdemon dead and no marshalling figure leading the Blight that it would break. That the Darkspawn would lose their fervour, their drive to fight, and they could be pushed back. She suddenly needed to know, resolving to send a letter to find the answers she craved. 

So, not the Southern territories, for the moment at least. Not Minrathous, and certainly not the Free Marches where her Clan roamed. She could send a letter to her keeper though, perhaps. Short and succinct, a final goodbye and some closure for her. She added it to her mental list as she moved to push open the heavy oak door to the Courtyard in search of the kitchens and a morning coffee. 

She nodded to the Caretaker who stood resolutely, hands clasped, under the giant stone statue. She realised it was no longer a depiction of Fen’Harel as it had been for months, but now a towering monument of two embracing elves. Their posture was tall and regal, though he was far taller than her, their faces close, lips almost touching for a kiss. Their vallaslin was etched into the stone, bright silver veins running across the surface of his face and deep gold through hers. Her breath caught in her chest to see it there, like they were something worthy of worship and admiration. It felt strange in her chest, unearned somehow, and she wondered if this was how he always felt when he saw the stone idols meant to represent him. She regarded the Caretaker then, suspecting him of meddling as Solas had once mentioned. 

“How did this come to be here?” She asked, pointing at the statute towering above. 

“By truth, Dweller. Only a reflection of what you hold in your heart.” His voice was soft but somehow spoke into her mind and out loud simultaneously, bringing with it a deep amber colour and a feeling that wrapped around her like a soft embrace. She startled, looking at the entity with her brows almost to her hairline, then cocking her head slightly in understanding. 

“You’re a spirit of Compassion.” She stated softly, her eyes looking properly over his unusual shape now. 

“Correct. I have been in the world between for most of my memory. I have been here, the Caretaker of this Lighthouse and its inhabitants, since I sensed that he needed one such as myself.” 

She felt a pang of sadness for her love then, who had come here alone and hurting, his yearning drawing this spirit of Compassion to him like a moth to a flame. She thought then of his regrets, murals painted on the walls inside. 

“Did you push him to examine his regrets, to bring them out in his art?” She asked curiously. 

“No, that was his alone. I only sought to bring comfort in the aftermath. I hid my true nature from him so he might not push me away as he did Cole.” The Caretaker replied, in the same odd way he had before, speaking into her mind and the air. 

“Would not let me help him. Made me forget the last time.” Cole’s intense voice was suddenly at her ear, making her jump. 

“Yes, I remember when he took the memory from you. That must have been painful, I’m sorry. I know he regrets it.” She replied to the young man, now materialised behind her. She looked over him, frowning, her eyes drawn to his oversized hat. She couldn’t help but draw a comparison between it and the odd helmet the Caretaker wore. 

She remembered then, Rook’s words about Cole the previous night and the silent conversation he had held with Solas. “What was it you told Rook, about me needing help? What did you mean by that?” 

Cole stood impassively, watching her quietly from under his fringe and oversized hat. He twisted his hands together, clearly struggling with something. She frowned, reaching out to lay a hand on the boy’s shoulder. 

“Did he ask you not to tell me?” She asked softly.

Cole shook his head quickly, glancing to the Caretaker for some confirmation before he spoke. 

“He worries, unsure of how to do all this. Does not want pain for you, uncertainty, wishes he could ease it but it will be his fault. He wants Compassion close, at the Homecoming, to ease the way for you. ” 

She softened then, a smile coming to her lips. When would he understand that this was the way of things, that women had been doing this for millennia and would continue to do so for many more. She was not nervous for this, a small moment of anguish in the long stretch which would become their life together. She was far more nervous for what came after, for how they would navigate that together. 

“But why Rook? What do we need her here for?” She asked curiously, looking between the Caretaker and Cole. 

“You don’t. She needs to be here, to see him. Not to forgive but to accept what he did, what he took from her. To see him as Wisdom, not as Pride. She is necessary, and the kindly one, for the blackened wrath which awaits unsated.” The Caretaker spoke slowly, his tone odd and lilting, almost as if in prophecy.

That gave her pause then, and she took a long moment reflecting. Of course she remembered Solas’s pledge on the eve of their reunion. His promise to help soothe the anger of the Titans, the cause of the Blight which would eventually come to ravage her world many times over. She knew it was something he needed to do, the blackened stain on his spirit visible to her as tangible as the scars on his face. 

So Rook and Emmrich would be necessary for the next step, not a ridiculous notion. Emmrich of course was extremely learned, a master of the energies of the Fade, so kindly and gentle in his dealings with spirits, and seemingly a calm voice of reason in the little time she had spent with him. Rook was more of an unknown to her, exuberant and excitable and a little too brash. But she had grown up with the Veil Jumpers in the ruins of Arlathan, dealing with magical artefacts and ancient magic. With a start she realised all four of them were mages, calling on the Fade in different ways but complementary to each other.  

The titans had raged for millennia, and she knew it would be no easy feat to begin soothing them. It would take their combined efforts, and she still had no idea how they would physically accomplish it. Finding them in the Black City? Seeking them out in the Fade, in their dreams? She rubbed her hand idly across her belly as Cole and the Caretaker silently watched her musings. Regardless, it would have to wait until they were all ready to commit. They had waited hundreds of lifetimes, they could wait a little while longer. 

She returned to the central chamber of the Lighthouse, coffee now in hand, and sat preparing writing implements for the letters she had chosen to send. The first to her second in command, the man she left control of the South with as she dashed for Minrathous at the end of the world. She dipped her quill in the ink, holding it carefully so it did not blot her parchment before beginning to write in a neat, looping cursive. 

Dear Commander, 

My sincerest apologies for the nature of my abrupt departure from the front line, the urgent business I had to attend to could not wait for even a moment. I am finally in a position to be able to communicate freely, and I write to you now for a status update. 

As I left, the situation felt hopelessly dire. We moved from one last stand to the next, the Darkspawn a never ceasing plague of ruin. We had lost so much under the onslaught, I wondered if there would be anything left to rebuild. After the fall of Weissaupt and the scattering of the Grey Wardens I could not hope for the Blight to be pushed back. And yet with the last Archdemon destroyed perhaps there was relief, a relenting of the onslaught, a gap in the defence that could be exploited? 

All this to say I need to know how the South fares, Commander. Does it stand, do its people live? Will they yet flourish in the future they are again allowed to have? Please tell me the truth of it, do not spare the details. 

I know I gave you scant details of my journey before my hasty departure but suffice it to say I am safe and well, and will not be returning to my duties. I am sure you have performed them admirably in the months since my absence, and you have my blessing to continue them if you so wish. 

With my warmest regards, 

Ellana Lavellan

Former Inquisitor 

---

She signed it with her name, scrawling her signature below the line in a practiced hand. She had signed her name on hundreds of reports during her time in the Inquisition, her hand often cramping and spattered with ink every night when she retired. She had never truly felt comfortable, crowded around the war table with her advisers, them looking to her for action and orders. She almost raced out of there when they were done, past Josephine's desk out into the main hall to rush toward the rotunda where he waited for her. 

She sighed, folding the letter and placing it in a crisp white envelope she marked as for the attention of 'Commander Alec Visland'. She sealed it with a wave of her hand, a silver wax seal appearing bearing her initials. She set it to one side, picking up another piece of parchment and dutifully dipping her quill. She sat, with a quill poised above the paper for a long moment while she decided how to begin. A fat drop of ink eventually fell, and she swore, scrunching the paper up and throwing it aside. At that point she heard the woosh of the music room door opening, and Solas stepped through yawning in a comfy pair of leggings. 

He saw her sitting there, working with a half-drunk cup of coffee in front and smiled, holding out his arms in a silent question. She stood quickly, moving to him as he stepped closer, folding her into his embrace. His chest was still warm, his heartbeat steady against her ear as she pressed her cheek against him. He sighed appreciatively against her, brushing her hair down her back with one hand. 

“Have you been awake long, ma’las ?” He asked, his voice still low and gravelly from sleep. She chuckled internally, he really was a late riser, he would sleep all day if allowed. 

“Some time,” She replied, speaking into his chest. “I thought to send some letters this morning. The first was easy to write but this one…” She trailed off thoughtfully, still wondering on what exactly she wanted to say to her Keeper, whether it was worth writing at all.  She had let her recreation of her home burn just the prior evening, happy to let it go, to push it from her. But she felt now she owed it to herself to see it through properly, to tell them so there could be no doubt of her feelings. 

He seemed to sense her worry, and he tightened his arms around her, pulling her to sit with him on the comfortable overstuffed sofa. She curled up next to him, pulling her legs up under herself as she tucked her head into his chest again. She sighed, thinking she could stay like this forever, safe and quiet in his arms. 

After a long while he finally spoke, seemingly reluctant to bring up something painful for her. “Is it to your Keeper, my heart, the words you struggle with?” He murmured softly, brushing her hair gently back from her neck. She just nodded, and he let out a sigh. 

“Just speak from the heart, ma’las, as you have done with me. The truth is best, even if it hurts. Especially if it hurts.” He pulled back from her just enough to bring two fingers to her chin, pulling her gaze up to his. He pressed his lips gently to hers, and she savoured the feeling. His soft lips against hers, his woody scent and the taste of something strong and herbal on his breath. 

Eventually she pulled herself away, a small smile gracing her lips as she nodded, seemingly resolved to see it through. He slipped away from her, standing quickly to offer both his hands to her. She let herself be gently pulled to her feet, and then moved to sit herself in the high-backed chair at the centre of the table to work more comfortably. He came to give her a quick kiss at her temple, and then wandered off to leave her there to her musings. 

She settled again, pulling a fresh sheaf of parchment to start the letter over. She carefully dipped the quill in her ink, beginning writing in a tidy hand before doubt could overcome her.

Keeper Deshanna Lavellan, 

We have not spoken in many years, the distance only soured by the cruel way we parted. The judgement, yours and theirs, for my bare face and my foolish love stung more than I can put into words. 

I only write to you now hahren, for me and my closure. This missive is not designed to soothe any hurt you hold, or stoke any further anger. It is only a catharsis, a resolution to a path not taken and utterly unwanted. 

I became your First by chance, after the first magical spark came unbidden from my hand. A tiny electrical pulse that shocked my mother, causing her to drop me in revulsion and surprise. You saw and knew then that I would be the next one, the mage, protector of the Clan and Keeper of the People and their secrets. 

You moulded me with your harsh words, your punishing tutelage, never quite enough for your towering standards. Even still I craved your approval, the tiny crumbs of praise you threw my way when the time was right. You were kinder and closer than my mother, but you were cold when she was lost to me. 

As I grew you finally seemed to learn to trust me, to come to believe in my abilities. But you still held such stern bearing, such scorn in your voice for my wilfulness, my frivolous nature, my headstrong stubbornness. Too close a reflection to yourself, I now know. 

You sent me to spy on the Conclave, what was meant to be the first of many such missions, in your quest to ensure Clan Lavellan keep apprised of the actions of the shemlen and their allies. When the Conclave fell and I took upon the Anchor and the mantle of Inquisitor I was secretly overjoyed. 

To be away from you and the Clan, to have some purchase to cling to of the world outside our simple life. I did not want the responsibility and the veneration I was handed, but I craved the excitement of it, the difference. The safety from your expectations, from my obligations to the Clan and the impending bond I would be forced to suffer. 

I stayed away for years, searching for my lost love even as I wrote to you. Your letters demanded I return, cast aside his memory and the childish crush I had harboured. Surely it was no great love, just a passing fling, if he could leave so easily. Your words cut to the bone, a hurt I harboured so strongly until recently, a deep scar on my heart I could not heal. 

I finally did return, a moment which should have been triumphant, Corphyeus defeated and prodigal daughter come home. But I was bare-faced, my vallaslin taken by him in the moment before he fractured my heart. He sought to free me, I explained to you, the tattoos just a marking of ownership to a mage not devotion to some God. You refused to listen, looking over me with disgust. Your own mark to Mythal taunting me as I looked upon your face. 

I returned a different woman, and not just physically. My arm was gone, not yet replaced with the golden hand I have now fashioned for myself. My heart was shattered, and my face bare. I was broken, seeking solace in the family and the Clan who should have sheltered me, who should have embraced me with loving arms. You called me harellan - deceiver, trickster, traitor - the same he was labelled with and turned me away.

I had learned the truth of it all, of who he was and his plans. I knew him only as Solas, a soft-spoken but passionate, enthralling contradiction of a man. I loved him, let him into my heart, let him feel the shape and colour of my spirit. Then I was forced to let him leave. 

You only knew of him as Fen’Harel, the Dreadwolf. The elvhen God of Betrayal, the Great Wolf, He Who Hunts Alone. But you could not be more wrong about him. He hunts alone no longer. I will be by his side, eternally, bonded with him spiritually and physically. 

Our love sparked new life, even now I nurture them below my heart, two beings ready to join my new Clan. He and I will be their Keepers, and we will do it with all the love they should expect. 

I am safe and contented, with him as I always will be. 

We will not speak again. 

Dareth shiral.   

Ellana 

She carefully put the quill away, moving to brush away the tears that threatened to fall ruining her hard work. She let the ink dry, folding it quickly and placing it in the envelope before the urge to tear it up became overwhelming. She sealed it the same as the other one, gathering both letters together in her hands. He came back to her then, weaving his arms around her as he stood behind her chair. He gave her a gentle squeeze, pressing a kiss to her temple as she leaned into him. 

“You said what you needed to, my heart?” He asked softly, twirling a strand of her long hair between his fingers. She closed her eyes, enjoying his touch and his breath at her ear. 

“Mmhmm,” She affirmed, ‘I just need to send these, though I’m not sure of the logistics…perhaps the Caretaker?” 

He nodded, reaching out to take the two letters gently from her grasp with one hand. He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead and the golden mark she held there before pulling back. He pulled her gently to her feet, motioning for her to join him as he walked out the heavy oak door to the courtyard. He stopped in surprise when he saw the two statues, exquisitely carved versions of the two of them, standing tall and imposing behind the Caretaker. He laughed then, a joyous sound of true mirth as he shook his head. 

“He cannot help but meddle.” He muttered under his breath, but she caught it, her lips twitching into a smile. 

He moved quickly then to the odd spirit lingering before them, offering him the two letters wordlessly. 

“Greetings, dweller. I will ensure they reach the correct people.” The spirit spoke once again in that odd way, out loud and directly into her mind. 

Solas only nodded, turning back to her and bringing a hand to brush against her cheek. 

“Come, ma’las. Take tea with me in the library.” He said softly, before bringing his lips to press against hers gently. 

They took tea together in the library, enjoying the hot brew with plenty of honey the way he so enjoyed. They sat on the comfortable sofa, his arms around her as she leaned against his chest, their legs entwined. The fire was roaring, stoked to a high burn which bathed the room in a warmth and a golden glow. She was comfortable sitting silently, enjoying his breath on her neck as she daydreamed. He had a book open resting gently on her belly, but he had not turned the page in a long while and she felt he was just drifting too, enjoying the closeness. 

Rook and Emmrich didn’t return that evening, or for the next several weeks. Instead they sent a quick missive that they were handling something urgent for the Mourn Watch, and to call for them as soon as they were required. Ellana and Solas didn’t seem to care as they enjoyed their renewed solitude, in the home they had built together.

Safe and warm, and contented. 

Chapter Text

Solas found himself taking breakfast alone in the large circular central chamber, having left Ellana in bed to enjoy a long sleep in. She had looked so comfortable, a warm pink flush to her cheeks and her hair wild and messy after the previous nights’ exertions. She had been insatiable lately, reaching for him again and again, and he was always only too eager to oblige. She didn’t stir when he slipped gently out from her embrace, padding softly across the room to throw on a pair of leggings and a tunic as he always did. 

Now he sipped his tea delicately, the almost scalding brew leaving his lips sweet and warm. He sat regarding the letter before him, a thick tan envelope with her name and no return address. He had found it lying on the table that morning, evidently left by the Caretaker at some time in the night. He was unsure if it was from her clan or her prior second-in-command, but knew she would handle it with trepidation either way. A small piece of him wanted to tear open the letter and read it, to throw it away if it contained cruel barbs or insults. But he would never hide the truth from her again, no matter how hurtful. 

He heard the Vi’Revas stir in the hallway beyond the main hall, knowing it signalled the return of Emmrich and Rook from their sudden secondment away on duty with the Mourn Watch. He nodded to himself, dragging himself quickly out of the high-backed chair and crossing the room in short time. He met them in the dark hallway, surprising them both as he swung open the door quickly. 

He took in Emmrich’s impeccably coiffed hair and neat moustache, the look somewhat tainted by the copious ichor and bone meal dusting his black armour. Rook looked just the same, her mage armour slashed across the front and her hair wild. They had obviously just come from some combat situation, making a beeline for the safety of the Lighthouse. They both looked shocked to see Solas standing there, as he moved to lean casually against the doorframe as if he had been waiting for them. 

And indeed he had, he had been awaiting their return for days since the Caretaker offhandedly mentioned dwellers moving about the Crossroads taking the paths well travelled.   He suspected this would not be an easy conversation, and likely he would have to humble himself before Rook. It was a displeasing prospect, but the sacrifice would hopefully prove worthy. Neither Solas or Rook seemed to wish to speak first, Emmrich looking between the two quickly to gauge the feel of the room before speaking up slowly. 

“Solas, our sincere apologies for both leaving and returning without notice. Our work with the Mourn Watch was critical, and then we thought to return here quickly to enjoy the comforts of home.” He threw a placating look quickly at Rook then, who was glaring at Solas with a mixture of open dislike and mocking humour. “The comforts of your home, I should say. I trust all is well with you and Ellana…?” He trailed off, as Rook continued to silently glare daggers at Solas. Solas nodded quietly to Emmrich, regarding the other man with a polite look.

“Thank you, Professor.” He threw a quick look of disdain at Rook before continuing, “I do appreciate your concern for Ellana, she is faring very well. I actually wished to ask something of the pair of you, if we could talk quickly. I do not want Ellana to overhear, as it pertains to her.” 

Rook frowned at that, finally speaking up. “Is that why you’ve ambushed us here, so you can sneak around making plans without your wife? You’ve been with her all of about a year, she’s just about to push out your babies and you’re lying to her already? Gods, you’re just the worst. You can’t help yourself but lie can you?” She was seething, her hand subconsciously inching toward the dagger at her hip. 

Solas just shook his head, looking exasperated but internally he felt a mild twinge of panic at the word 'babies', thrown around so casually. It was true they did not have many weeks left before her time, and they still had much to prepare before their arrival. He steadfastly ignored Rook, turning instead to Emmrich. “I do not understand what you see in her, honestly.” 

“This is not productive, Solas.” Emmrich chastised, giving Solas a pointed look. He stood with his hands clasped, the picture of impartiality but Solas knew he would vigorously defend the young woman who so stole his heart. 

Solas leaned his back against the heavy oak door to the main chamber, keeping it closed so Ellana could not interrupt them. He sighed, then took a deep breath, regarding the wretched young woman in front of him. He needed her help and he knew she would enjoy his asking for it. He decided for honesty then, speaking earnestly, to a point just above Rook’s head. 

“Ellana is born from your world, born mortal in your realm and lived that way for many years. Rook, as a Dalish elf I’m sure you understand how important that world is to her. The simple pleasures of nature - the stars overhead, the cool water of a stream, the smell of the pine forest and the feel of the sun on the skin. I know she feels the absence of these things, the small minutiae of her life from before that she didn’t think she would miss.” 

Rook’s posture had relaxed a touch, her hand moving away from the dagger to grasp Emmrich’s offered hand instead. She nodded to Solas to continue, her face thoughtful though still scowling.

“There is a place I wish to take her, in your world, past the veil. It is of course no trouble for us to travel there using the Vi’Revas, however traversing the Crossroads can be dangerous and the…location is not somewhere I have been since waking. It may be overrun with a myriad of beasts or creatures, or it may continue to be abandoned.” He spoke softly, wanting the two of them to realise this meant a great deal to him, no small thing or easy ask. 

Solas braced himself, cringing inwardly as he tried to think of the best way to ask a favour from a woman he had manipulated and betrayed for months. He knew she would enjoy this, and he wanted to give her no satisfaction. He was doing this for his wife, a surprise to soothe her yearning desire, and the joy on her face would make the torment all worthwhile. 

“I would ask a favour of the both of you. If I give you the location and the best direction I have, would you clear the way so that I may take Ellana there? The location will require transit through several eluvians in sequence, and the lyrium dagger and passphrase to access.  I hope for this to be a surprise for her, I do not wish for her to know about it. Neither do I feel safe to leave her here alone.”

He lowered his chin slightly then, nodding to both of them as he let them consider his words. His heart was thudding dully in his chest, anxious at their expected reactions. The consternation that followed was entirely overblown, in his opinion. 

“Really? After everything you’ve done you’re asking me for a favour?” Rook shouted, her voice echoing down the vast hallway. 

Solas gave her a withering glare before he quietly reprimanded her. “Do not raise your voice at me in my own home, Rook. You are a guest here, do not forget.” 

She started to speak again before Emmrich put a calming hand on her wrist and she glanced up quickly at him. “Dearest, don’t think of this as doing him a favour. We would be doing this for her, yes? And it should be an excellent excuse to practice some manifestation with Manfred. Perhaps young master Cole would even like to tag along, we could take a lovely little trip and be back before you know it.” He spoke smoothly, brushing back a loose strand of her hair as he did. She calmed under his touch, letting out a long sigh. 

Rook looked appraisingly at Solas then, still standing with his back leaning against the heavy oak door. She folded her arms across her chest, looking as though she was wrestling with what she wanted to do versus what she knew was right. 

“You must really love her, to lower yourself to come begging for my help.” She finally said. 

“I am not-” He started hotly before cutting himself off with a sigh. “Yes, I love her more than I can put into words. She is my hope and my heart.” He absent-mindedly traced a finger across his silvery vallaslin, a small smile coming to his lips unbidden.

They were quiet for a moment, before Solas spoke up again. “So, will you do it?” He asked earnestly. 

“Fine,” Rook sighed. But I’m taking a bath first, I’m covered in revenant. 

Rook and Emmrich emerged several hours later, following a bath and some time spent together in the meditation room which had become their private space. By that time Ellana had finally made it out of bed, taking a meal of fruit and cheese in the library with Solas. 

Emmrich came to the library door, ducking his head in to say a hasty goodbye to the pair. 

“Please accept our apologies for dropping in unannounced and then back out again but pressing business to attend. We will be back shortly, I am sure.” He said smoothly, waving a gentle hand at Ellana reclining on the comfortable sofa. 

Solas made to stand, coming over to ostensibly shake the older man’s hand. He pushed a folded letter into his palm, mouthing a silent thank you as he said his goodbyes before pushing the library door closed. 

He came back to her then, settling in behind her on the sofa, pulling her close to him. He wrapped his arms around her ever-growing middle, and pressed a kiss to her temple. Inwardly he was excited, eagerly awaiting when the unusual group of adventurers would return from their trip. He hoped he would not have to wait long, though he knew they would have at least a full day before they were expected back. 

As they lay comfortably on the sofa together, he moved his hands into her hair, pulling his fingers through to gently loosen the knots. He separated her long hair into sections, weaving them into a loose braid as she relaxed against him, murmuring appreciatively. He circled his arm around her belly, bringing his hands under her bump to lift the weight of it from her. He heard and felt her relieved exhale and he smiled to himself, happy he could carry this burden for a short time. 

“Ar lath ma, vhenan. So much, you could never know.” She breathed, snuggling close against him. His heart felt so full it could burst as he held her, his fierce precious Hope. He brought his lips to brush softly against her temple.

“Ar lath ma tas, ma’las.” He murmured, sending her the feeling across their bond and feeling it back from her just as intense. 

“Much as I wish to never move from here, I believe we have something we can be doing. I would quite appreciate your help for it, if you are feeling up to it.” He continued, murmuring close to her ear. 

She pulled away slightly then, his hands falling from her belly as she sat forward. She turned to him, a slight frown on her face. 

“If I’m feeling up to it? I’m not ill Solas, I feel fine.” She replied, shaking her head. She paused for a moment, before her eyes took on the wicked gleam they always did when she tried to tease him.  “I was just tired this morning, and that is entirely your fault, my heart. You’re the one who kept me up all night” 

He scoffed, raising an eyebrow at her. “I did no such thing, you were the one who started undressing me first. Would have been rude for me not to oblige, would it not? Ravaging your body was just an enjoyable side benefit” He teased her, seeing the tips of her ears go a dusky pink. To him it was delightful to see that even though they were bonded and she was carrying his children she still had the capacity to be nervous for him. It was so endearing, it made his heart sing with joy for her. He sent that feeling to her too, and saw her blush deepen. 

She smacked him playfully with a cushion, which had the desired effect of shutting him up. She laughed heartily at his dumbstruck expression as the pillow fell away, before squealing as he grabbed her and pressed a bunch of noisy kisses against her cheek and neck. They both continued to laugh then, caught up in the moment and each other. 

“Come, ma’las. Enough procrastinating, we have work to do.” He said softly, moving to pull away from her and lift them both up. 

She almost pouted then, and turned to face him before dragging her hand down his chest and belly toward the waistband of his leggings. She raised an eyebrow at him, in a silent question. He moved his hand to close over hers, smiling gently but still resolute.

“Later, my heart. I will do anything you want, but I promise you we have pressing matters to attend to right now and I want you with me.” He pressed a gentle kiss to her lips, and then lifted up off the sofa taking her with him. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close, letting his hands settle against the curve of her bum. He gave her rump a fond squeeze and she laughed, finally relenting. 

“Alright, point made.” She sighed dramatically, before bringing her lips to his for a quick kiss. “Lead the way, my heart.” 

He took her hand, and they navigated through the Lighthouse to their private bedchamber. 

Their chamber looked as it always did, a circular room with a large central bed covered in soft furs. A large round tub by the balcony door, a messy desk covered in documents and other keepsakes flanked by two large wolf statues, and a wardrobe containing clothing at one end. The elaborate fresco of their first time at Crestwood, where he took her vallaslin and her heart, remained above the bed. It did not hurt as it used to, the painting dwarfed by the enormous one in the main hall of their ritual joining at the same place. 

They came to stand, hand-in-hand, by a bare stretch of the north-facing wall. Solas turned to her, taking a moment to consider the correct words. His heart pounded a dull thud in his chest, nervous but unsure exactly why. He pushed it down, finding comfort in the truth of what he knew and could share with her. She felt he was preparing for a lecture, and she stood waiting attentively, eager to hear it. 

“As you know, the Fade can be moulded and sculpted by a skilled hand to suit the needs of the user. This Lighthouse has stood for millennia, created long before my rebellion. It was both a safe place for me, and a place of solitude. When I rebelled, Felassan made this place more than a home for countless numbers of elvhen and spirits- a welcoming refuge, a training ground, a place to study and practice magic. The Slow Arrow welcomed all who would join the cause, turning them into agents and spies, both keeping them safe and sending them into danger.” 

He paused, taking a lock of her hair and twirling it in his fingers idly as he stood remembering. She stood, eyes locked to his, waiting for him to continue. She gave his hand a gentle squeeze, and smiled when his eyes came to find hers. He took a deep breath before continuing. 

“When I locked away the Evanuris and inadvertently raised the Veil I was so weakened I fell into my uthenera almost immediately. I did not have adequate time to seek out this place, or Felassan. This place had changed in that time, no longer a vibrant hub of activity but an almost empty husk fraught with loss and pain. I used many people and spirits in my mission to secure the Evanuris.  Many who came to join my cause here were lost.” His face was a mask of anguish now, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes and he let out a breath forcefully. 

“This place remained unchanged until I returned, several years ago. I severed much of it, pieces I felt were extraneous and unnecessary. The barracks, the training grounds and others. I only kept what was essential for me, using the space as I did to display my regrets, both ones I wanted to forget and others I wanted to remember.” He glanced over his shoulder at the exquisite mural of them at Crestwood, a critical turning point in their time together. He stood up straighter, bringing his gaze back to her. 

“This place no longer suits its purpose, ma’las.” He said softly, coming to press his hands against the curve of her belly. “We need to create a space for them, I will show you how. I want us to do this together.” 

She only nodded as he pulled back gently, turning back to face the empty expanse of wall. He raised his left hand, motioning for her to do the same with her right. She copied him, in a mirror image of the gesture. 

“Imagine an open archway here, towering almost to the ceiling, wide and golden-trimmed. A heavy oak door standing in the frame, two names etched into the wood in a shining platinum. A room beyond, with space for two girls to live and grow and play together. Two halves of the same spirit, destined to never be alone in this world or any other.” He whispered to her, his hand grasping hers so tightly. 

“I have it in my mind, ma’len.” She whispered back, moving to him to press her lips against his softly. He spoke directly into her mind, unwilling to pull away from her. 

Make it manifest, ma’las . Bring it forth and make it real, here in the Fade. 

They both closed their eyes, each with an arm raised, concentrating on manifesting the changes into reality. Their lips stayed joined, becoming a desperate bruising pressure as she leaned into him. His heart raced in his chest and he could feel her pulse quicken against his fingers as he grasped her hand. He felt the magic flow from them both and settle in the air around them. Finally their lips parted as she pulled away gently. He opened his eyes to see her looking straight ahead, through an open doorway into a new room beyond. She moved forward, pulling him through with her.

They stepped into a cosy circular room lit by golden veilfire lamps. There was a comfortable looking daybed covered in furs, and two elaborately carved wooden cots flanked by a statue of a wolf. This was smaller than the ones in their main bedchamber, but it was intricately sculpted of white marble with golden veins, looming high above the cots facing the door protectively. The statue had not been his idea, though his heart sang to see it there. She noticed his proud smile, bringing her hand up to brush her knuckles against his cheek. He let out a breath he didn’t know he held, realising he was apprehensive about her reaction. 

“I love it, my heart. And I know they will too. I hope you’re agreeable with the wolf. The cots are just wonderful, I’ve never seen wood of this colour before.” She was delighted, a pink warmth in her cheeks. It was infectious, he couldn’t help but join her when he saw her like this. 

“It is an ancient type of tree that used to grow in the forest below Arlathan, my heart. Unfortunately there are only a very small number of places it grows now, and they are mostly hidden away. Groves and sanctuaries, beyond the realm of most everyone except those who know of them.” 

“Well, you would be one of the few who would know. I can’t imagine there are many other ancient elvhen currently awoken in Thedas.” She said softly, her hand still resting on his cheek. 

He only nodded, not needing to add anything, her observations as astute as ever. He pulled her gently over toward the heavy oak door, leaning against the frame. He closed his eyes for a short moment, manifesting one more thing into being. He thought of his girls and their joined spirit, the first spirit of their type in millennia since Elgar’nan had burned the emotion from the face of the world.  

He opened his eyes to see her pleased smile, taking in a heavily platinum engraving at the centre of the door reading “Ara’Vhenas”. There was a clear indication underneath for the addition of two names. 

“Perfect.” She smiled, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him close for a kiss. He wrapped his arms around her waist, nestling her belly safely against him as they stood together, both their minds racing with possibility. 

The following day they found themselves taking lunch in the central chamber of the Lighthouse when they heard the eluvian activate, and shortly thereafter Rook came stomping through the hallway to the main hall. She didn’t say anything to Solas or Ellana, just stalked off to the meditation room in stony silence. Emmrich followed suit immediately after, trailed slowly by Manfred who waved as he passed. Emmrich gave the pair a curt nod, his hair was mussed and a great scratch ran down the length of his face. Ellana frowned, calling out to him as he passed them. 

“Professor, you’re injured. Can I offer any assistance?” She wore a look of concern, half-raising out of her chair. Emmrich waved his hand gently, motioning for her to sit back down. 

“Pay no heed, I will be quite alright. Both Rook and I can handle this sort of injury, though I do need a private word with Solas if possible?” He looked at Solas pointedly, trying not to give anything away. Ellana looked between the two of them with her eyes narrowed but didn’t speak up again. 

Solas nodded, moving to follow Emmrich toward the meditation room, dreading how this conversation seemed to be pointing. They came to the heavy oak door and Emmrich knocked twice, with Rook’s voice calling out to enter. They entered, Solas taking a position attempting to lean nonchalantly against the doorframe as far from them as possible. She had evidently not liked their tastes here, all of the changes Ellana and he had made to the decoration were replaced by simple Dalish ones. The daybed remained though, and the tables covered in keepsakes.

Solas couldn’t help but remember the time he and Ellana had spent there, as he bent her over one of the tables, keepsakes strewn to the floor. He swallowed hard, bringing him back to the present. Rook fixed him with a glower as she moved to sit on the daybed, Emmrich coming to join her quickly.

“You didn’t say we would be fighting our way through the Crossroads to an ancient elvhen grove!” She finally spit out. 

Solas didn’t take the bait, remaining calm, continuing his casual lean against the doorframe. “I am ancient elf, it should not have come as a surprise. As for fighting your way through, I did warn you that I had not been there a very long time and did not know if it had changed. I did tell you to expect fighting though, and in any case you’ve returned so am I to assume you were successful?” He raised an eyebrow, letting the question sit for them. 

“Yes, we cleared the way from here via the Crossroads. The directions were as you said, three pairs of Eluvians and then a short walk to the grove hidden by an enchantment.” She sighed, before continuing.  “You really owe us for this, I chipped a tooth and got a new scar fighting a Vengeance demon in the Crossroads. Also, I can’t believe your idea of a romantic night away for your wife is an ancient grove dedicated to you, talk about Pride.” She rolled her eyes, shaking her head. 

Solas bristled at that, his face pulling into a scowl. “It is a special place, dedicated to me by a close friend. It was a sanctuary, never a place of worship, and it has nothing to do with my Pride. I only want her to enjoy the beauty of the place.” He said, unsure why he was even bothering to explain himself to Rook. But he remembered what the Caretaker said, she would be essential in future and he couldn’t fully burn this bridge. 

“It was beautiful.” Rook conceded. 

“The veil was thin there, Solas. I could feel the Fade on my skin easier than anywhere I had been in the waking world.” Emmrich said softly, clasping his hands together as Solas noted he did often. 

“It did perpetually rain there though, as soon as we stepped into the grove there was a downpour and it stopped as soon as we left. We took refuge in this little log cabin there for a while, it was lovely, actually…” Rook trailed off, smiling at Emmrich. 

“The fire was quite a delight after the deluge, indeed.” Emmrich replied, returning her smile.

Solas just nodded, having learned enough, and he turned to leave. With his hand on the door handle he turned back, moving his eyes between the two of them.

“Thank you, both of you. Even if you’re doing it for her, it means a great deal to me. You have my gratitude.” He said softly, before he quickly pushed open the door and stepped out, closing it firmly behind him. 

He found Ellana in the kitchen, sitting at the dining room table flicking disinterestedly through a book. He circled around the back of her chair, weaving his arms around her and placing a soft kiss to her temple. A muscle in her jaw ticked, and he pulled back from her slowly, sensing her hurt. Before he had a chance to speak she stood up, turning to face him. Despite the significant height difference he felt cowed in front of her as she crossed her arms and fixed him with a stern look. 

“You are hiding something from me. You promised to trust me with the truth, remember?” She said matter-of-factly, her tone obviously hiding an upset. 

He winced under her glare, wanting to pull her into his arms but knowing that would just anger her further. Instead he hastened to explain, trying to speak placatingly. 

“Yes, ma’las, I have been keeping something from you. But it is only intended to be a pleasant surprise, I promise you. Something for the two of us to enjoy together, that I asked Rook and Emmrich to prepare for me as I did not want to leave you here.” 

“Really?” She asked flatly. “And Rook agreed to do that for you? I find that unlikely, Solas.” His heart sank at her expression, and he felt himself needing to explain, to put it right as soon as he could. 

“I agree, extremely unlikely. However, Emmrich convinced her to do it for you, I did not factor into the equation.” He replied earnestly, pushing his emotions to her across their bond. He felt her understand the truth then, and her face fell further, tears welling in her eyes. 

“Oh, my heart.” He whispered, gathering her finally into his arms. He pulled her gently to rest her head against his chest, his arms tight around her.  “It’s alright, I understand the impulse to doubt and do not resent the questions. I have given you ample reason to suspect me in the past, but I made a promise to you. I will never lie to you - directly or by omission-not ever.” 

He put two fingers to her chin and lifted her face to his. “You are my world, ma’las, my everything. I will never risk you for a lie.” He pulled her gently to him then, pressing his lips against hers. She was so soft and tasted of something peppery and he revelled in the feeling wondering how he ever managed without her touch for ten long years. He pulled back finally, resting his forehead against hers.

“Ma’las, there is somewhere special I would like us to visit. It is out, in the waking world, on the far side of the Veil. I asked Rook and Emmrich to clear out a path for us so I know it is safe, and we will take some provisions for an overnight stay.” He offered softly. 

He caught sight of the look that flashed in her eyes then, and he chuckled. “Well, perhaps provisions for a couple of days. In any case, we don’t have anything pressing here and our time is running short so I thought we could perhaps leave today?” 

“I would like that very much, vhenan.” She smiled through her drying tears, a delicate pink flush rising to her cheeks. He sensed her excitement across their bond and he shared his, letting it wrap around her like an embrace. 

A while later they found themselves standing hand-in-hand in front of the Vi’Revas, each of them dressed in heavy woollen traveling clothes with a dark hooded cloak thrown over the top. They each carried a pack with provisions, namely food and water, plus some healing potions and herbal remedies should the need arise. Both of them were accomplished mage healers, but sometimes a wound needed more than just magic to heal correctly, and sometimes the herbal poultices helped to dull the pain while the magic took hold. She carried a staff with her, long disused but safer with her than without. Solas no longer needed one to practice his magic like he did when they first met, needing only his hands mould the Fade. 

Solas reached out a hand to touch the surface of the mirror, murmuring softly as his eyes flashed bright pale blue. The eluvian flared, and he quickly stepped through pulling her through with him. They both felt the squeeze around their chests like a rubber band, their very being pushed and pulled almost like many hands grabbed them as they moved through the mirror. They they were through, their feet landing on solid stone pavement. They both recognised the strange grey light of the Crossroads - the world between - though she hadn’t been to this part of it before. 

His heart thumped a rapid beat, knowing he had left the Fade for the first time since coming there with her, thinking he would be relegated to eternity there in a prison of his regrets. Thinking he had damned her to the same, that she had chosen that for herself despite being mortal and far too good for him. But they were here together in the world between, where he was almost equally as comfortable, and where he would be more than happy to guide her. Solas stepped deliberately, moving them hand-in-hand to a long narrow slip of rock, and overhang with a steep drop-off on one side. As they approached a vessel came to meet them, helmed by the Caretaker or another spirit who appeared just the same. 

“You are awaited, dwellers. A homecoming of sorts for the two of you.” The spirit said, it’s its usual strange cadence. 

Solas stepped aboard, pulling Ellana carefully into his arms as he sat on the wooden bench seat. They placed their packs down and he put his arm around her shoulders. She leaned against him, her face against his chest, as the vessel took off gently into the grey abyss beyond. 

Chapter Text

They drifted along slowly as their unusual vessel made its way along some forgotten path, the Caretaker at the helm carefully guiding them. They skimmed across the canopy of a great amber forest of trees, the ground lost far beneath them. They pushed further on, sailing high to skirt above a towering ruined spire hanging adrift in the sky, its former contents strewn haphazardly about the air around it as it gently rotated on its axis. There was no noise but the rush of wind as their tiny ship cut its way through the air. 

There was silence between them, as Solas held Ellana close to his chest, enjoying the feel of her weight against him. He was at ease here, just as comfortable in the odd grey mist of the world between as he was in the Fade. She seemed content to just snuggle against him, watching the unusual world fly past them as they continued to drift. This would be a long day of travel, and he wanted her to find rest where she could. 

This place had always held a particular fascination with him, linking together the world he wanted to inhabit and the one he was forced to join. He had used the Crossroads often before the Evanuris infighting and his rebellion began in earnest. There was so much of the Ehlvenan culture intrinsically linked to the worlds between, tied up within it, that it became fractured when the empire finally fell. 

Most of the eluvians had become locked, too easy to carry enemies into the centre of safety for the unwary. Great parts of the world between had been lost, sundered by those who sought to have it for themselves or nobody else. After his rebellion, when the Veil had been raised, the eternal realm had finally been changed irrevocably. The Vir Dirthara, the great repository of the long histories of the elvhen people was shattered. The People’s own language and stories became lost to the modern, mortal elves who called Thedas home. Their histories all based on lie and rumour, raising their would-be slavers to the ranks of Gods, unwittingly marking themselves as slaves.

Later still, when the remaining Evanuris were freed from their prison during his ritual gone awry, they brought with them a terrible Blight. It had spread quickly, a black corruption only further marring parts of the once vivid landscape. With them finally gone and nothing for the corruption to cling to it would slowly recede, colour returning again. It would be a long process, measured in hundreds or thousands of years, incomplete until the titan's wrath were soothed.

Eventually they slowed as a landmass came into view, a small island made of some volcanic rock, seemingly untethered and floating free. It was bathed in fog that hung low, obscuring the ground. Jagged rocks jutted up out of the mist, looking almost like a toothy maw, raised up to the sky. As they came closer, circling down from above he saw a clearing in the centre with a single dull object standing on a raised dais - an inactive eluvian. The Caretaker brought them in to hover just above the ground of the clearing, nodding to them in farewell. Solas murmured his thanks, sending the spirit a feeling of gratitude. Ellana finally stirred, sitting up and stretching with a yawn. Solas gently extracted himself from her grip, giving her a quick kiss before grabbing his pack and her smaller one and throwing them over the edge down to the clearing below. 

“Come, ma’las.” He beckoned softly, holding his arms out to her. She moved carefully into his embrace, and then he stepped backwards over the ledge of the odd vessel, the two of them falling slowly to the ground below as if on a cushion of air. He heard her let out a small excited huff and he smiled, pressing a kiss into her hair. 

“You’ll have to teach me how to do this, vhenan, it’s a very useful magic.” She said softly. He just nodded, before bringing his lips to meet hers as their feet touched the ground. She pulled away smiling, and they picked up their packs, moving on to the centre of the clearing. 

The eluvian stood dormant, far smaller and simpler than the Vi’Revas, a normal mirror except that it was placed incongruously here in the centre of this place. He felt his heart begin to race as they moved toward it, the first step of this plan that could be truly dangerous. For all her faults, he trusted that Rook had cleared this place of beings that would do harm. But he worried anyway, for the safety of his Hope, and for what he may be forced to do to defend her if she were threatened. He knew that feral, protective part of him would take control, and despite her assurances he didn’t know if she truly accepted that part of him fully. 

They moved slowly to the mirror, his hand coming to grasp hers firmly, hers soft and fully enveloped by his much larger one. Both of them took a deep breath, preparing themselves as they walked up the stone steps of the dais. He reached out his hand to the dull surface of the eluvian, speaking the passphrase in Elvhen as he pushed his will into the cold surface of the metal. The mirror began to glow, bathing them both in a brilliant white light as an enormous whirling shape pushed itself through the surface as if it had been waiting, coiled and ready to strike. Solas snarled, a foreign sound coming from his mouth after so long, his body tense ready to leap into action. He moved to push himself in front of her but she had already come forward, calmly pressing the palm of her hand to the centre of the still-materialising creature. 

Its shriek of pain and terror echoed in their minds as it lost its corporeal form in the brilliant crack of lightning. It shrank back into itself, recoiling, trying to move back through the mirror away from her and the pain. But she resolutely pressed forward, bringing the delicate golden gauntlet of her left hand to scald it with fire. The shrill scream it emitted then sent Ellana reeling, clapping her hands over her ears. Solas grit his teeth, watching with grim satisfaction as the hideous thing seemed to melt into the mist below, the sound slowly fading. Then he saw her on her knees, having fallen to them from the effort. 

It was silent for a beat, before Solas turned to her, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her up to him for a desperate kiss. His heart was crashing against his chest so hard he was sure she could feel it as he crushed her against him. He was shocked, terrified, and then so proud of her in just a matter of seconds. His fierce, wilful Hope. It seemed she no longer needed a staff to cast magic either, it coming naturally to her like anything else. He moved his hands to either side of her face, pulling her to him as his lips joined hers with a bruising pressure. When he finally pulled away his breathing was ragged, and his eyes wet with unshed tears. Seeing his reaction she softened, brushing the knuckles one of hand gently against his cheek. 

“You frightened me, vhenan. Please warn me next time.” He whispered, blinking away the tears. 

“There wasn’t time, I’m sorry. It was just instinct, I didn’t even think to do it.” She replied softly contrite, pressing a hand to his chest to feel his heart thudding strongly. He gave her an affectionate squeeze and then let out a breath before nodding resolutely.

“We should not linger here overlong, especially by an active eluvian. Come, vhenan .” He took her hand firmly in his again, stepping up and through the mirror.

They emerged through the mirror into a bright, white expanse of wilderness blanketed in snow. Ellana came through right behind Solas, raising her arm to shield her face from the sudden glare. He saw her shiver at the cold and ran his hands up her arms, trying to bring her some warmth. He pulled her cloak tighter around her shoulders, bringing his lips softly to hers. He willed a tiny spark of warmth to cross to her, where it would sink into her chest and bring her enough fire to better stave off the cold. She pulled away, sighing softly and stretching her shoulders as the warmth took hold.

“Thank you, ma’len. That is very much appreciated, I never handled the cold very well.” She murmured, slipping her hand into his again. “Lead the way.” She continued, looking about for a path or direction. 

He felt a bubble of pride at her appreciation of his small magic, happy that he could at least do this for her. He surveyed the area in front of them, beginning to move quickly toward a gnarled oak tree heavy with snow across its upper branches in the distance. They walked in comfortable silence again, the only sounds their breath as they trudged through the soft snow. 

As they reached the tree Solas began moving around it in a circle, looking for the way forward he knew was hidden here. Eventually he found it, motioning for Ellana to stand back a moment. She moved a short distance back, keeping herself guarded for activity from the front or behind them. He waved a hand above a particularly gnarled root at the base of the tree and it slowly unravelled, revealing a dirt path down into the earth. He beckoned for her to join him then, and he took her hand as he stepped into the tree. 

Tall as he was he had to stoop for the first twenty feet, until the tunnel widened and evened out and he could stand properly. She walked next to him then, her hand still clutched tightly in his, as he moved them quickly along the path. It twisted and turned down into the earth for a short while, around fifteen minutes had passed when they turned a corner to abruptly find a dead end. An inactive eluvian stood there, muted and dull, awaiting them to step through. This time he gave her a pointed look, and she stepped back out of grabbing range just at the corner. He activated the eluvian again with passphrase and palm and it flared bright. He waited a moment, satisfied when nothing came rushing through, and motioned for her to rejoin him. They stepped through again, hand-in-hand. 

Now they found themselves standing on the flagstones of a dark chamber, veilfire lamps throwing an odd green light and shadows across the walls. He pulled her quickly along with him, their boots striking the stone with resounding impact as they walked. An open archway led them down a corridor, through another arch and then into a walled courtyard. It was here that her breath caught, as she took in the enormous stone effigy of the All-Father above them, lording over an altar where he demanded supplication from his followers. They were in an abandoned temple of Elgar’nan, unused for millennia and unknown to the modern Elves who would once again take up the practice, unaware of his disdain for them. The place left a sour taste in his mouth, and he longed to be gone from him as soon as possible. 

They kept moving, ignoring the All-Fathers stern gaze, through the courtyard and down another walled corridor. The veilfire lamps here had gone out, and he waved an arm toward them to relight them. They were bathed in that odd green light again, he knew a perversion of the Veil blocking the true colour and intensity. Some realisation seemed to come to her then as she suddenly stopped, now tugging on his hand. 

“Vhenan, we’re in the real world aren’t we? Well, the waking world.” She asked, frowning. 

“Yes,” He nodded, turning to face her. “This place stands somewhere in the great forest of Arlathan. Astonishing it has never been found, except by those who know of the path.” 

“Oh, it’s not that it's just-” She cut herself off, chewing her lip as she did when she felt like her question was simple or silly. He took her into his arms then, putting two fingers to her chin to raise her face to his.

“Ask your question, my heart.” He said softly. 

“Well, why do we still look like this?” She waved her hand to his hair and vallaslin and then her face. “I thought this was something we manifested in the Fade, an affectation or something of perception.” She was genuinely curious, frowning trying to make sense of it. 

He felt a dull thud in his chest as he realised he didn’t know, and couldn’t begin to answer her question. They had not physically tattooed the markings on their faces, and his hair had been lost for thousands of years before he willed it back on a whim for her. Was it really so simple, just a manifest desire of two spirits taking the shape they wanted? 

“I do not know exactly how, ma’las, but you now believe as I do that the Fade is every bit as real as this world. We manifested our desires and our hopes together in the Fade, and it moulded our shapes to fit. Perhaps these are ours now, until we decide they should change again.” He replied thoughtfully, gently tracing her mark across her forehead. He brought his lips there then, pressing them softly against her skin as she sighed appreciatively. 

“Come, it is not much further. Let us be gone from this place and onto the next.” He said, taking her by the hand again. 

They went through another corridor, down two flights of steps into a dark chamber which smelled of damp and a lingering musk. At the far end, almost hidden behind a bookshelf was their target. They moved quickly to it now, their boots kicking up dust which they could see had recently been disturbed, no doubt by Rook and Emmrich as they passed through and back again. This time Solas paused, turning to her with a curious look in his eyes. He took the hand still in his grasp and placed it with the flat of her palm on the surface of the eluvian. He removed his hand then, leaving hers there alone. She frowned in confusion, not understanding the intention. 

“ Ma’len, I don’t have the dagger, it won’t answer to me.” 

“The passphrase is ‘Fen’Harel enansel’. Try it, please.” He smiled, watching her closely. 

She took a deep breath before whispering the passphrase, reeling back in shock as the mirrored surface shimmered awaiting travellers. He chuckled, pulling her with him as he quickly stepped through. 

This time they arrived in a lush, verdant forest with soft earth beneath their feet. They had emerged from a mirror hidden in the trunk of a great oak tree, its canopy of leaves high above blotting out the sun so they were bathed in shadow. The mirror returned to its idle state, Ellana letting out a shaky breath as Solas quickly took stock. 

“How did I do that, vhenan? How were you so sure it would work?” She asked, eyeing him with playful suspicion. 

“You’re bonded to me, carrying my blood and a fragment of my spirit. You will always have the Dreadwolf’s blessing.” He replied softly, feeling her love and appreciation come across their bond. He sent her back just the same feeling, smiling brightly at her. 

She moved to him then, pressing herself firmly against his chest as she snaked her arms up and around his neck. He smiled wider, allowing himself to be pulled down to her for a hungry kiss. They stood together a long while, enjoying the feel of each other's hearts pounding against their chest. There was birdsong, and the far off crashing of heavy water moving but they only knew each other. Eventually he broke away, pressing his lips to her forehead once before taking her hand again. 

“Last step, ma’las, we are nearly there.” He whispered, setting off on a careful path, winding through the brush between gnarled roots. They came to a pair of enormous ancient oak trees, their trunks entwined to form an archway between them. At the point of the arch, etched into the wood, was a small symbol. She moved closer to see it, to read whatever inscription had been carved there, and let out a startled breath, turning to look at him in wonder and surprise. 

“It’s you!” She gasped, her eyes searching his for some answer. Carved there above the arch was his spirit form, a golden being with a long tail, many delicate gossamer limbs and an elaborate head of six golden facets. 

He only smiled, moving toward the archway with his hand outstretched. He placed his hand on the oak, feeling the rough bark of the tree and all the memories it harboured reaching back thousands of years. He pushed his spirit toward it, willing it to yield to him, and then opened his eyes to see a bright, golden glow as a doorway began to coalesce. He took her hand then as she stood in silent wonder, looking between him and the new doorway. He stepped through quickly, feeling the curtain of familiar magic brush across his shoulders. It made his heart ache for his dear friend, a pang of anguish as he remembered the moment he had snuffed out his light. Then she was through with him, gasping in amazement at the scene before them. 

They were in a grove, encircled by a thick pine forest on all sides, the sky above them tumultuous threatening a rainstorm. Indeed the instant both feet touched the ground it began to rain, a steady stream that would have had them quickly drenched had Solas not held up an arm throwing up a simple barrier. The rain splashed harmlessly off, the ground below them becoming soft and damp. He took a moment to survey the place, looking exactly like it had so many years earlier when he had first come here with Felassan. There was a comfortable log cabin at the far edge of the clearing, a simple enough lodging for one to stay if they sought refuge here from the banality or complications of life. In the centre of the grove was a lake, steam rising off the surface indicating it was heated naturally from some unknown source. 

Close by was a small covered stone structure, flanked by an enormous statue of Fen’Harel, not weathered by age but instead looking freshly carved by an expert hand. Its six eyes glowed, its gaze focused protectively toward the archway behind them. He knew the structure contained an altar to himself, a small joke by the Slow Arrow, for he knew how much Solas abhorred the idea of Godhood for himself and others. This was never a place of worship, only of respite and solitude. A gift, from a dear friend to someone he loved and cared for. 

Ellana finally seemed to have caught her breath, whispering “It’s so beautiful, my heart. And the Veil is so thin here, I can feel the Fade on my skin just like at Crestwood. My spirit sings here, like it was made for me.” 

He felt the same, and knew it was true. It had been made for him, and so too did it now belong to her as all things did. The Veil was indeed thin here, and he felt the constraint on his spirit less than it normally weighed when he was in the waking world. He pulled her into his arms then, moving to wrap his arms around her back pressing her close as their lips met. She sighed and leaned into him, moving one hand into his hair while the other moved lower to rest against the curve of his rump. He smiled against her mouth, before deepening the kiss, brushing his tongue across her lower lip and then into her mouth. They stood locked together for a long moment, just enjoying the warmth and the taste of each other. He felt himself growing hard, pushing his hips against her round belly to show her how she felt. Her hands began to move then, one hand dragging nails across his scalp while the other moved to slide under his tunic to rub across the warm skin of his back. 

They were interrupted by a small cough, an attention-seeking clearing of the throat from ahead of them. They broke apart suddenly at the noise, Solas throwing himself in front of her with a growl as he turned to face the intruder. His breath caught in his throat, his heart almost thudding to a stop as he saw them. They stood, leaning casually against the enormous statue of Fen’Harel , barefoot wearing a simple green robe thrown over a pair of leather breeches and a tunic. His hair was pulled back in an elegant knot, the many delicate brown branches of his vallaslin visible even from this distance. 

Felassan 

There was a long moment as Solas stood, almost gasping for breath, shocked into speechlessness. Ellana looked between the two men, obviously unsure of what, if anything, she could say. Eventually, she moved to brush her hand against Solas’s cheek. 

“Solas, is that Felassan?” She whispered, her voice low. He was sure she could hear his pounding heart, as it threatened to crash right out of his chest. He only nodded, his face becoming anguished, tears starting to prick at the corner of his eyes. 

“Well, that’s no way to greet an old friend, is it?” Felassan joked, closing the distance to them slowly. He didn’t seem to care for the rain, letting it fall on his skin and soak into his clothing. He reached them quickly, standing only a few feet from Solas, almost close enough to touch. 

“Slow Arrow,” Solas gasped, anguished. “How are you here? I m-” He cut himself off, the tears truly beginning to fall as he choked back a sob. He shook his head, trying to clear them, gritting his teeth. “I murdered you! Tore out your throat and destroyed your spirit in the Fade. You should not be here.” He was resolute now, sorrow forcing a hard edge to his voice as he bit out the words.

She had moved behind him, her belly pressing into his back as she wrapped her arms tightly around his waist. She didn’t speak, recognising he needed to say what had weighed on his spirit for so long. 

Felassan just cocked his head to one side, a wry smile coming to his lips. “Well, I’m not really him. Not all of him anyway, just an imprint left here as he created this place from nothing. His Loyalty to you was unending, unshakeable, even to the end. You imagined he would forsake you. You should have known better, Wolf.”

Solas began to shake with sobs then, and she held him tighter as if remembering the last time they encountered such a memory. His anguish then had been almost too much for her to bear, his howling a physical pain but not so this time. There was only quiet sorrow for the Slow Arrow, killed for disobedience the very first time he rebelled, following his friend's clear example. Solas let his barrier fall, the rain starting to drench them both. 

“Yes, I was right,” Felassan continued, a soft chuckle leaving his throat. “You should have trusted me, wolf. They were people, and you knew it then. You just hadn’t found someone to prove it to you yet, until you met her.” He pointed then at Ellana, her arms still tight around Solas’s middle. His chest was still tight, a black hole where his heart should be as he continued to sob, tears falling thick and fast. He looked down at her hands clasped around him, feeling undeserving and small and broken. 

Felassan just shook his head then, exasperated. He moved closer, to come face to face with Ellana, meeting her eyes as she silently listened to the two of them. 

“Does he do this with you, too? This constant self-doubt nonsense?” He asked casually, as if just making conversation. She let out an amused huff despite herself, squeezing Solas tighter as she replied softly.

“Yes actually, fairly frequently. How did you deal with it?” 

Solas’s breath caught in his chest then, hearing his Hope and his Slow Arrow finally meet. His sobs had started to subside, tears still running freely down his cheeks. He never dreamed such a thing could be possible. 

“Just show him he’s wrong, he’ll get over it eventually. Until the next thing, there’s always another thing.” Felassan replied, shrugging. He gave her an appraising look then, and closed his eyes for a long moment. When he opened them he smiled, continuing. “Hope? A rare spirit to manifest in the waking world. Perfect for him, he needs the inspiration. You seem well prepared too, and you obviously enjoy each other's company.” He laughed, throwing a pointed look at her belly. 

Solas smiled at that, the tears finally beginning to dry out. He sent her his thoughts, not ready to speak aloud just yet. 

My perfect, silvery hope. It could only ever be you. You showed me the true possibility of this world.  

She leaned up onto the tips of her toes to press a kiss against the long point of his ear. Her lips were so soft, her breath gentle at his ear. He let out a small sigh, relaxing slightly. 

“So, what is it to be then? A tiny Hope or a tiny Wisdom? Or something else, wouldn’t put it past Wolf to manifest a spirit of Devotion.” He smirked, quirking an eyebrow at her. 

“Homecoming.” Ellana and Solas both replied in union, a smile forming on both of their lips.

“Two of them, a single spirit in two forms.” Solas quickly added, the pride now evident in his voice.  

Felassan’s face broke out into a great boyish grin, and he came to clap Solas on the shoulder. He felt his breath leave him, his skin thrumming where the other mans’ hand rested softly. 

“Twins? Well, you’ll certainly be busy. It's no less than you deserve, and I know you’ll both do wonderfully. You were always kind and patient with spirits, Wolf. They wouldn’t have followed you otherwise. Just remember, all children carry a spark of rebellion in them. Do try to nurture it, blind Loyalty often goes unrewarded after all.” 

Ellana moved then, circling back around until she was face to face with Solas, with Felassan standing beside them both. She took both of Solas’s hands in hers, rubbing small circles reassuringly into his skin. Despite his much larger frame he still felt small and timid to her, nothing like the fierce man who threw himself in front of her earlier. 

“Well, you two had better get ready for the homecoming, they’ll be here before you know it. Make yourself at home in Felassan’s grove.” He said, waving his arm around at the surroundings. Solas huffed, and Felassan only chuckled adding “Well, I did make it so I’ll name it however I please. I don’t care that there’s a statue of you over there, nobody ever made a statue of me did they?” He laughed, the sound deep and warm. 

Ellana suddenly moved away from the both of them then, toward the towering statue of Fen’Harel. Solas watched as she closed her eyes, holding out her hand toward the stone. It shifted under his gaze, no longer a towering wolf but two smaller objects which slowly coalesced into being. A smaller tribute of Fen’Harel looking just the same, and beside him as he always had been the Slow Arrow. He looked just as he did now, solidly built and jovial, with a golden arrow clenched in one fist. The two of them, back together and side-by-side as they should have been. His heart leapt with appreciation, and he heard Felassan murmur something from beside him. 

“Yes, she really is a special one isn't she. I think you two will be just fine.” 

Solas turned to Felassan, smiling, to find him gone. Only his lingering scent of pine remained. 

Chapter Text

The smile on Solas’s face became wistful, and he sighed gently as he considered the gift his friend had given him. And then she was there, moving to circle her arms around his neck, snuggling close to his chest as he enveloped her in his embrace. 

“Just the two of us now, I think…” She whispered, her voice trailing off. He could feel her breath against his neck as she stood on the tips of her toes to reach the long point of his ear. She ran her tongue along its edge and he felt a rush of breath leave him, feeling the blush rise and his heart thud faster. She loved to tease him like this, the smallest touch setting him to ruin. 

The rain was still falling in drenching sheets, and he raised a hand to the sky, muttering in elvhen until it eased to a light drizzle. He brought his hand back to her, to brush her wet locks back off her neck. Then he brought his lips there, tongue running over the red scar of his mark he’d left on her. He felt that great possessive need rise again and he pushed it fiercely down, too soon and too early for it to manifest. He continued laving his tongue against her neck, enjoying the throaty moans he coaxed from her. She was always so responsive, so eager, from his smallest touch. He felt it as a mark of pride, as she gasped below him, leaning into his attentions. 

Her hands began to move then, to the clasp of his cloak caught at his neck. She deftly unfastened it, letting it drop to the ground. Hers joined a moment later, under the same attention. He moved his mouth over her ear then, taking the long point between his teeth. Her hands stopped then as she let out a needy whine. He felt a growl low in his chest in approval and bit down softly on her flesh, enjoying the feel of her racing pulse between his teeth. Her hands began to roam under the heavy wool of his traveling clothing, finding the warm, taut skin of his back and shoulders. He moved his lips back to hers then, his hands coming to pull her against him forcefully on both of her hips. He kissed her with a sudden desperation, a hunger, and she returned it just as strong. She ran her tongue across his bottom lip, pushing into his mouth as he moved both hands to knead the flesh of her ass. 

She began to pull his woollen sweater up, the tunic underneath coming with it as he broke the kiss to allow it to be yanked quickly over his head. The wolf jawbone remained, pressed against his skin, hidden away while they travelled but visible now. His hands moved from her hips up her sides as she brought her lips to the sensitive spot under his jaw, standing on the tips of her toes again to reach him. He let out a soft moan as she imbued her lips with a minute spark, feeling a wave of pleasure thrum from his scalp right down to his now hardened length. He felt her smile against his skin, apparently pleased with his reaction. His hands continued their slow journey upward, dragging her comfortable warm tunic up and over her breasts. She broke away then, as he undressed her just as quickly. His hands moved to the clasp at the front of her breasts, fumbling with it in his eagerness to have it gone. 

She chuckled, bringing her hands to run gently across the warm skin of his chest and up to fist into his hair. She ran her nails over his scalp, and he let go a ragged moan, not trying to hold it back now. He finally managed to open the clasp of her brassiere, flinging it off in irritation as his hands came to cup her full breasts. She sighed then, apparently enjoying the touch of his warm hands. Her breasts were larger now than the first night he’d held them, her taut nipples now dusky and begging for attention. He pulled his jawbone talisman from his neck, settling it in place around hers so it sat between her breasts. 

Then he stooped to take a nipple in his mouth, softly sucking the tight bud as he kneaded the flesh of her other breast and she moaned below him. She was caught in his attention now, his hair weaved through the fingers of her hands as she pulled him closer to her. She threw her head back, moaning wantonly, calling his name. Begging and pleading for more, telling him in Elvhen all the things she wished for him to do to her tonight. She was playing a dangerous game, pushing his resolve, wanting to see the feral under the façade. But not now, not yet at least, in this place. 

She was impatient though, evidently having had enough of waiting. Her eyes snapped open and she drew them to his face and then down to the harshly tented front of his breeches. He continued his ministrations on her breasts, his eyes watching her curiously as she seemed to concentrate for a moment. She waved her arm, in a manner she had seen him do many times. And then they were naked, the wolf jawbone the only thing worn on either of them. He felt a surge of pride for her mastery of the magic, idly wondering if this was his influence or something she had been capable of all along.

He didn’t have long to think before she cupped his throbbing shaft, squeezing him gently, and all thought left him with a ragged gasp. She broke away then, wriggling out of his grasp with a laugh. She moved to turn into a slow jog, a hand supporting her belly as she turned to look back at him over her shoulder.

“Catch me if you can, vhenan.” She called out, moving quickly to the edge of the lake, steam still rising from the warm surface. She took a hesitant step in, testing the water, before she quickly submerged herself, swimming strongly away from the shore. 

He quickly followed her, a jog becoming a sprint as he moved to the lake’s edge. He didn’t slow, running into the water, great splashes as he went. He dove in when it was deep enough, moving through the warm water toward her with powerful, long strokes. He caught up to her almost immediately, taking hold of her by the waist and pulling her forcefully against him. She wrapped her thighs around him, his hardened length pressing into her belly, as he brought his lips to her ear. 

“Caught you.” He whispered, his voice low with desire and his breathing ragged. His heart was almost beating out of his chest, struggling to keep his calm as he wanted nothing more than to reach between them and plunge his thick cock into her waiting softness. She would let him, would take him eagerly, he knew. But that was not why he had brought her here, he wanted her to enjoy this place first. She moaned softly as he licked along the point of her ear, his breath hot against her skin. 

“Always such a tease. You take such delight in seeing me ruined, don’t you?” He asked, his voice still husky. 

She only nodded, murmuring agreement as his words. He brought his mouth back to her nipple then, continuing what he started before she had interrupted. He sucked her gently, swirling his tongue until she was gasping again, clutching at his back. He moved his attention to the other nipple then, as he moved to run his fingers along the tendons of her neck. He imbued both his tongue and fingers with a light touch of his golden magic, and he moved them softly against her as she bucked against him desperate for more. She started to beg then, out loud and across their bond, apparently done with the tease. 

“Please, vhenan. I need you to touch me.” She whimpered, rolling her hips against nothing. 

He pulled back from her nipple, letting it fall from his mouth. “I was touching you, beloved. Is there something I am missing?” He chuckled, raising an eyebrow, teasing her. 

She groaned in frustration and desire, grabbing his hand in hers and bringing his fingers to her core. He didn’t protest, just moved his fingers as he was instructed, running  them through her slick folds as she moaned and grabbed for him. She was so needy, so desperate for him, it was intoxicating to him. His long fingers slipped inside easily, pushed right to their limits inside her as he curled them gently. Her thighs tightened around him, her breath coming in ragged gasps. His length was pressed against her belly and he knew he would be leaving a wet patch of fluid on her had they not been submerged in the warm waters of the lake. He worked her quickly toward a peak, feeling her desperate need overwhelm all other feeling. Just as he felt her reaching for a peak he slowed, a slight smirk coming to his lips. 

“Not just yet, my heart.” He murmured, his fingers now moving in lazy, slow circles. She pulled back to fix him with a glare, her hips continuing to move against him, trying to force him into a quicker movement.

“Don’t you dare.” She warned, her eyes flashing with equal desire and wrath. 

“Come.” He said, but it was just an ordinary word. Not a command, or imbued with his magic. He removed his fingers completely, moving both hands to grasp her firmly as he walked with her back to the shore of the lake. As they reached the edge he saw her crestfallen face and he pressed his lips to hers in reassurance. He didn’t speak, instead sending her the feeling of his continued overwhelming desire for her across their bond.

Just moving us somewhere more comfortable, my heart. Do not fret. I will be inside you again soon, where I belong. 

Her eyes fell half-lidded then, her gaze slackening as she let herself be carried, naked and drenched out of the water. He left their belongings by the lake shore, walking with her quickly to the small stone structure which provided some protection from the drizzling rain. 

They came to the archway leading inside, flanked by two small statues of Fen’Harel, their six blue eyes glowing in the dim light. He pushed through, emerging into a small chamber, un-weathered by the ravages of time or nature. This place was perfectly preserved as it had been built, with an altar at the far end on a raised dais and a collection of richly coloured heavy tapestries lining the walls. His heart leapt as he saw them again, all representing him as a young man, Felassan’s perception colouring their portrayal of him. He looked tall and imposing, bare-chested in most, appearing brave and strong and cunning. He heard her sharp intake of breath, revelling in the sound of her admiration. 

He moved to the dais, setting her down gently on the stone top of the altar. It was warm to the touch, the air still smelling of the misty pine. He waved an arm over the two of them and they were dry again as she reached for him, reaching out to wrap her legs around his waist. She pulled him to her with all her might, bringing his lips to hers for a needy kiss. Her tongue sought his almost immediately and he felt her desire as she sent it quickly across their bond, picturing exactly what she wanted him to do to her. He pulled away from her, intent on following her instructions to the letter. 

He knelt before her spread thighs, almost as if in supplication, as she lay splayed wide on his altar like some divine offering. He leaned forward to inhale her scent, letting it fill his chest and stoke his need ever higher. Then he pulled her firmly right to the edge of the altar, throwing a shapely leg over each of his shoulders as he brought his lips to her soaking core. She shrieked as he flicked his tongue across her sensitive clit, pushing her hips closer to his face. She started begging then, already so desperate for release, his name falling from her lips over and over as he moved his tongue through her slick folds. He pushed his fingers back inside her tight heat then, first two then adding a third when he felt she could take the stretch. 

She was arching her back against the stone top of the altar then, rocking her hips against his face as he made a meal of her. The noises she was making sent a wave of need right to his cock, jutting proudly toward her and weeping, desperate to be buried in her. He could feel her slowly beginning to crest toward a high, and began to coax her with words in Elvhen, praising her and begging her to come undone for him, all sent wordlessly across their bond as his lips continued their frantic work on her soaking cunt. 

Yes, my heart, just like this. So wet, and tight just for me, laid out like an offering for me to ravage. You don’t even know how tempting you are. As soon as you come for me I am going to fuck you so thoroughly you won’t remember your name. I’m going to fill you with so much spend it’ll leak out. You just need to come once for me first, wife.

His need for her was excruciating, his thick shaft weeping, leaving a pool of mess beneath him. His heart was racing, counting down the seconds until he could plunge into her exquisite tightness. She was continuously moaning, her breath in harsh ragged gasps, her knuckles white as she gripped the edge of the altar like a vice. Then it finally hit, a shattering peak which caused her to shudder and jerk against his mouth. He held her steady, his hands and mouth still moving as he tried to prolong the pleasure for her until her legs were shaky and she finally relaxed back against the altar top. 

He came up between her legs then, pulling her back up to bring his lips straight to hers, letting her taste her own sweet musk on his lips. She moaned against his mouth, moving her hand between them to grasp his thick shaft. It twitched in her grip, so eager to be buried in her. He pulled her back to the very edge of the altar, wrapping her thighs around his waist as he pushed her back down flush with the altar top. 

“Comfortable?” He asked softly, his eyes meeting hers, her belly round between the two of them. 

She just nodded, reaching for his hips to pull him close. He rubbed the weeping tip of his cock through her wet folds then, marvelling in the exquisite softness of her. He would never tire of the feeling, and the sound of her ragged breath as their bodies met. He pushed into her slowly, watching her face for any indication of discomfort. Her eyes drifted closed as he filled her, a moan escaping her lips as he bottomed out, his hips flush to hers. He rolled his hips against her then, rubbing his pelvis against her sensitive clit and her eyes shot open again, finding his, the longing and need returning quickly. 

“Pala em, ma’len. I need you, please.” She begged, her tone desperate. 

He was only too eager to oblige, starting a deep quick rhythm of long strokes as he pulled her onto his cock. One hand moved to knead the flesh of one breast as her eyes closed again. Her moans were constant as he drove into her, his hips meeting hers with a soft smack with every thrust. She was incredible like this, her cunt gripping him and so wet that he knew he would not last long. He already felt the tight ache in his belly, knew was fast approaching as he continued to fuck her, a blasphemous exercise in worship on his own altar.

His mind flicked back to when they first met, when she was venerated as the Herald of Andraste. But she was a non-believer, not a herald of the bride of the Maker but his bride. If she was his only supplicant he would let her worship how she saw fit, currently on her back with her thighs clutching him. She was writhing now, squirming under him, desperate for the release only he could give. He let his desires flow across their bond, feeling her contract around him strongly when she received them. Images, elvhen words, flashes of feeling from him all pushing into her mind. 

“Garas sul’em,” He whispered, “Please wife, for me.” 

Her eyes bored into his now, as she sent a single thought through their bond, imbued with a heavy spark of her silver magic. 

Together

They both peaked then, her tightening around him with a breathless gasp as he thrust his release deep inside her with a long groan. He continued moving for several moments, pulling her onto him to milk the last of his release until he collapsed against her spent, his heart crashing against his chest. He stayed leaning over her for a long moment, bringing his lips to hers for a breathless kiss. Then he pulled back from her, watching with deep satisfaction as his release leaked down her thigh. Her eyes were still half-lidded, watching him with open adoration. He picked her up gently then, her legs around his waist, as she clung to him. He walked with her back to the lake shore and the warm water that awaited. 

Entering the water together for the second time was different, as if magic thrummed against their skin, setting all their nerve endings on fire. It was an incredible feeling, and they both revelled in it, moving quickly to submerge themselves. They clung to each other a long time, her legs around his waist and her face buried in his neck as he stroked her hair. The skies reopened above them, drenching them in a warm summer rain as they floated together gently, enjoying the simple closeness of their skin against each other. He pressed his lips to her forehead, tracing her golden mark with a soft fingertip as she shivered in pleasure. Eventually he moved to walk them back toward the shore, bringing them slowly out of the water.

He let her down gently then, standing on her own for the time in a long while. He stooped to collect all their scattered belongings, drenched from the rain and left to soak on the soft earth. He took her hand in his free one, leading them to the log cabin which stood across the way, nestled back against the beginnings of the pine forest. They entered quickly, the door swinging open easily to reveal a comfortable space with a fireplace, roaring fire already lit. There was a small kitchen with a dining area, and a large round tub off to one side. In the back through a small doorway was a large wooden bed covered in soft silver furs. She sighed when she saw it, clearly already imagining climbing beneath the soft covers. 

He gently laid out their clothing in front of the fireplace to dry, removing items from their packs to line them up on the dining table for a quick lookover. Nothing was broken or out of place, the potion bottles and tinctures all accounted for. He pulled out the food they had brought along, laying out an impromptu casual dinner of crusty white bread, cheeses and sliced meats that they both tucked into voraciously. 

Later, they curled up together in bed, her coming to lay across his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, her belly nestled safely against him as their lips met. He had expected a soft goodnight, for her to roll over and press her back against him ready to sleep. But she was still insatiable, needing his touch again, bringing her hand between them to rub across his length. He bit back a moan, his mouth falling open in surprise, rapidly becoming desire as he saw the look in her eyes. She moved to straddle him, her hot core against his hips, her knees either side of him. She wouldn’t be denied and he was always eager to oblige, hardening quickly under her touch. She grasped him firmly then, bringing him to her already slick entrance and pushing down slowly on him until he was fully seated. 

They both moaned then at the exquisite feeling, and she began to move slowly, leaning her body carefully over his, wrapping her arms around his neck. He could feel she craved closeness and he enveloped her fully in his arms, holding her against him securely, letting her set the pace and the depth. It was far more intimate and no less satisfying than their earlier activities, her soft breath against his ear driving him on as he held her, letting her take what she needed from him. They moved slowly toward their peak this time, a marathon, an endurance climb rather than a sprint. Every rock of her hips bringing him in contact with her sensitive bud and the incredible soft spot within her core. Soon she was gasping above him, and he joined her again at her peak, groaning his release with a ragged breath as she moved against him. 

She finally slumped against him, spent, raising her hips just enough for him to slip out. She moved slowly then, arranging herself carefully so she was between his hips, their legs entwined, her head resting against his chest. He felt a surge of fondness for her, loyalty and devotion and hope for their future. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, holding her firmly in his arms, marvelling again at his incredible good fortune. They fell asleep that way, content and together. 

He awoke, sometime later in the pitch black of night, unsure of what had roused him. He lay quietly for a moment, his eyes closed, enjoying the sound of the pouring rain once again battering the roof above. Her voice came to him then, soft and insistent at his ear, as she gently shook his shoulder. 

“Ma’len, please wake up.” She implored, continuing to shake him. 

He just murmured wordlessly, reaching an arm out to pull her close as she had seemingly managed to move away in the night. Her hand came again, stronger this time, the nails of her hand digging into his flesh as she gripped his shoulder.

"Vhenan.” She insisted, her tone firm. 

He opened his eyes, bleary and seeing nothing in the darkness, the fire in the hearth having long since burned down to embers. He groaned softly, rubbing his hand across his face. He had been deep in sleep, dreaming, and did not wake easily. Surely whatever this was could wait, at least until the golden light of dawn greeted them. His eyes closed again, and then he felt her fingers against his chin imbued with a small spark of her lightning. He cried out then in pain and shock, sitting up, his eyes finally flying open to see her, illuminated by a small glow from her palm. Seeing her now he finally noticed her face twisted in a grimace, eyes closed as she breathed shallowly. Her hand was pressed to her belly as she muttered softly under her breath. 

After a long moment she let out a long breath, and drew her eyes to his as some truth began to dawn on him. The full realisation then fell on him like a lead weight, the breath leaving him in a shocked gasp. Panic slowly began to set in, disbelief warring with an almost hysterical laughter which threatened to bubble up out of his slack mouth. She moved her hand from her belly to his bare chest then, laying it gently over his pounding heart. Her voice was soft, barely audible above the sound of the slashing rain outside. 

“My heart, I believe time has caught up with us. They do not wish to wait any longer.” 

Chapter Text

The pouring rain continued to fall, almost blocking out the sounds of his panicked breath. He didn’t speak for a long moment, clearly wrestling with the news, his heart pounding in his chest as she held her hand flat to him. The pain for her had lessened, still blessed long minutes between each wave, and she knew she would have a long while before she actively needed to do anything. For now it seemed she needed to comfort him, panic seemingly overtaking his usual calm reserve. 

“Solas, my heart, it will be alright. This is just the nature of things, we don’t have a say in it.” She said softly, bringing her other hand to brush against his cheek. His eyes were wide and staring, not seeing her. She tried again, another tactic, as she put two fingers to his chin and pulled his face to hers. Her lips met his roughly, earning a surprised gasp from him before he leaned into her, returning the kiss with the same fervour. They broke away after a long moment, his eyes finally locking to hers. 

“I-it is too soon, they are not r-ready” He stuttered, the words pleading as if he could make them the truth. Her lips formed a gentle smile, as she remembered the words Felassan spoke not hours ago, seemingly now a prophecy. 

“All children have a streak of rebellion, vhenan . It should come as no surprise that yours are not an exception, they’re just following your example. Mine too, I suppose. I was never a rule-follower, too wilful and stubborn. They really had no choice but to be this way, my heart.” She replied, running her fingers through his hair now, her other hand rubbing comforting circles across his heart. 

“But this is not how it is meant to happen.” He moaned, finally finding his voice. “Not here. This is not what I wanted for you, labouring alone in the woods with no comfort from Compassion or otherwise.” Tears had begun to fall now, his face a mask of anguish as he watched her. 

With shock she remembered their recent dream, locked in agony as the Nightmare demon loomed above. Labouring alone, in a cabin in the woods, in the pouring rain. Not just a dream but a portent. Her eyes found his and saw the fear in them, felt the thoughts come across their bond. His terror of their shared nightmare, his guilt for bringing her here, his disgust with himself for taking her so roughly on his altar. He felt this was his fault, all of it, spiralling into a pit of despair. 

Quickly, she smacked him across the face. It echoed with a crack, his eyes flying wide as he reeled back in shock, gasping. 

“Not here, my heart, where the Veil is so thin. Unsafe to dwell on Despair, you know what you’ll call to us if you do.” She whispered apologetically, her hand now gently rubbing his cheek where she had slapped him. 

He only nodded, clearly seeing the truth of it. He pulled her into his embrace then, wrapping his arms around her fiercely, crushing her to his chest. She pressed her face into his neck, inhaling his woody scent. His breath was still coming in ragged gasps, his heart pounding against his chest but the tears had now ceased. 

“Besides,” She continued, “You keep taking credit for my actions. I wanted you every time, and I wanted to join you here. The nightmare was just both of our fears manifest, but I am not alone. I will never be alone, I know that you will always be at my side. You vowed to never leave me to suffer alone, remember?” She was speaking softly, directly into his ear, to ensure he couldn’t miss a word. 

He continued nodding, murmuring his agreement as he brushed her hair down her back with one hand. His hands calmed as he did this, the shake lessening as he worked. His face was still stricken though, lost, facing a situation he had no idea of how to navigate. 

“I do not know how to do any of this, vhenan.” He whispered, his voice small and plaintive. 

She smiled, a gentle chuckle leaving her before she could stop it. “I am aware of the practicalities, I know what is necessary. As for what comes after, we will have to figure that out together. Neither of us had exceptional parents, after all, we can only do better than they did.” 

He moved from her reluctantly to set a new fire in the hearth, flames growing to bathe them in light and warmth in the predawn darkness. 

“I should like to take a bath, I think.” She called out to him from where she lay on the bed, her hand pressed against her belly again as another wave of agony passed through her. She grit her teeth, panting as it lanced through her belly, pacing herself as she knew she had long to go. 

She saw him wave his arm over the large round tub, steaming water rushing to fill it quickly. He came to her then, wordlessly reaching for her hips to lift her from the bed. He carried over effortlessly over to the tub, lowering her legs to the floor so she could step in herself. He held her hand tightly in his as she lifted her leg over the rim, and then he moved his hands back to her hips to help steady her as she lowered herself into the water. He watched her closely, concerned, looking for any indication of discomfort. 

The water was perfectly warm, immediately a sweet relief for her and she sighed stretching her neck and back. She turned to him then, half-kneeling next to her, still watching her attentively. She felt a surge of fondness for him, her lips curving into a soft smile. 

“Join me, ma’len. Please?” She murmured, reaching out a hand for him. 

He nodded, and she scooted forward enough to leave room for him behind her. He moved carefully into the tub, settling himself with one knee either side of her, carefully wrapping his arms around her middle. She leaned her back against his chest, finally comfortable, as he leaned his chin on her shoulder. His breath was finally softer now, the panic seemingly replaced with a resolve to see through the plan to its end. He would be stalwart now, she knew, nothing would keep him from her. 

Gently he began to move his hands across her, washing away what they had done to each other before they slept. His hands were gentle as they worked, stopping to brush small circles against her skin, clearly enjoying her small moans of enjoyment. When he was done he pushed her to sit slightly forward, bringing his hands to move into her hair, plaiting the strands into a tidy braid away from her face. 

As he finished, brushing a soft kiss to the spot beneath her ear she felt another wave crest, worse than before, her breath coming out as an anguished gasp as she screwed her eyes tightly closed, her whole body tense. He laid a gentle hand on her belly, and she felt his golden magic thrum on her skin before she pushed his hand gently away. She heard his breath catch as the wave passed her, relaxing against him, letting go of the tension once more. 

“Ir abelas, vhenan. The pain is a necessary part, it will be how I know time is close, when they are ready to come into the world and I have to do my part.” She explained softly, feeling his hurt at her rejection of his magic. 

“I cannot help at all?” He asked softly, the sorrow clear in his voice. She half-turned, enough to see his face, wanting to reassure him.

“You are helping, just being here with me like this. Just hold me, encourage me, love me as I know you do. I can handle the pain, for now at least.” She laughed a short, wry laugh before she added “Ask me again later though and I may have changed my mind”. 

His lips curved into a small smile then, the first one since she had woken him that night, and she felt her heart soar with joy. She sent him all of her feelings for him across their bond, needing him to know how essential - how critical - he was to her happiness, that he was her entire world, the moon and the rain and the forest below. She felt his arms tighten around her, his cheek coming to press against hers.

“Ar lath ma , vhenan. My glimmering hope, my fierce wife.” He gasped breathlessly, as she felt his heart thudding against her back. 

They stayed in the tub a long while, him cradling her offering gentle words of admiration and praise as she grit her teeth and weathered each wave of agony, growing slowly closer together as time passed. Eventually she whispered that she would like to get up, and he stood quickly, stepping out of the tub first before helping her out. He waved a hand over them and they were dry. He went to collect the now dry clothing they brought with them but she just shook her head, being naked seemed to be natural right now. He came back to her then, his hand coming to her face to gently brush his fingers across her cheek. 

“Where will you be most comfortable, ma’las?” He whispered, his eyes searching hers. 

“Not the bed.” She replied, shaking her head looking over the comfortable wooden bed covered in furs. She thought for a long moment, of the clan women and their stories. They had all given birth under the stars, on all fours against the soft earth. That seemed most natural to her, but she had spent enough time in the mud. She would labour in the safety of the cabin, with him by her side as he should be. 

“Can you collect some pelts from the bed? I think the floor here would be the most comfortable for me.” 

He nodded wordlessly again, moving quickly to collect a sturdy woollen blanket and pelts. He arranged them in the centre of the floor, blanket first and the pelts carefully placed on top to form a comfortable makeshift bed for her. He left again, returning several soft pillows which he laid down too. She lowered herself to the ground, his hands coming to support her quickly as she got comfortable lying on her side, her arms cradling her belly. He quickly threw on a pair of soft leggings, coming to sit next to her cross-legged, taking her hand in his secure grasp.

Another wave hit her then, rolling across her belly slowly. She panted, breathing shallowly, managing to keep calm until it reached its peak and a broken gasp escaped her. His hand squeezed hers and she squeezed back, accidently sending him a portion of her pain across their bond. He cried out then in agony and surprise, his breath coming in ragged gasps until the wave slowly abated. She squeezed his hand again, a sheepish look of apology on her face.

"Ir abelas, ma’len. I didn’t mean for it, it was an accid-.” She tried to explain, but he just put a gentle finger to her lips, silencing her. 

“Whenever you have need for it, ma’las, I will happily take the burden. Please, let me help, any way I can.” 

She only nodded, relaxing against the furs, awaiting the next wave. She thought then of after, and belatedly realised there was more preparation to be done. 

“Vhenan, we will need something to dress them in. And fresh hot water, and keep the potions close in case the blood loss is severe.” She spoke matter-of-factly, not colouring the statement with emotion. 

He had already turned, looking for something suitable to wrap his babies in when she mentioned blood loss. He looked to her sharply, the panic returning to his eyes, for something he had not considered. She was eternal now, as long-lived as he was but just like him she was not truly immortal . She could bleed, and she could die, almost as easily as any mortal. She felt his terror, the acrid scent of it rising in the air and she sent him her reassurances and feelings of calm. This was just the nature of these things, she was only being prepared, it would all be alright. He took a calming breath, taking a moment to steady himself.

“Ma nuvenin, ma’las.” He whispered, barely heard over the sound of the slashing rain. 

She watched him pick up their grey woollen traveling cloaks, deftly removing the sharp clasp at the top before laying them together next to her. They were the perfect size for a blanket, soft and warm. Then he went to the kitchen, gathering a large stone bowl which he brought over next to her. He waved his hand over it quickly, and she saw it fill with steaming water. He returned to find his tunic, laid out to dry before the fire, and he grasped it firmly, tearing it up the seam so he held two linen cloths. He brought them back to her, placing them down next to the steaming bowl of water. Then he shook his head, cursing under his breath, returning to his pack where he rummaged around for something. 

He came to her then, kneeling down beside her, holding out a water skin for her. She took it gratefully, her sudden thirst surprising her, as she took a long drink. 

“Ma serranas, ma’len.” She said softly, her hand squeezing his shoulder. 

She relaxed back against the furs, her mind wandering, thinking of the two of who would join them. What they would be like, who they would be, what they would want for themselves. She was interrupted again by the pain, lancing across her belly, taking her breath. This time she couldn’t be comfortable, moving from her side to back and then back again. Still no relief, and finally she rolled onto her hands and knees, one arm cradling her belly below as her other supported herself. She cried out in agony, becoming a growl deep in her chest as she laboured, his hands coming to gently rub at the tension in her neck. 

Eventually the pain lessened, and she collapsed forward, still on her knees. It was comfortable enough, she decided, that she would stay there a while. He came to sit next to her, dipping the torn cloth of his tunic in the steaming water, using it to gently wipe away the sweat at her lip and brow. 

“You’re doing so well, my heart.” He whispered fiercely, pressing a kiss to her forehead. She sighed appreciatively, leaning into his touch. He brought his fingertips to trace her golden vallaslin, imbuing his fingers with a gentle thrum of his magic to calm her. Not to erase her pain, but to soothe her nerves, a feeling of comfort that settled across her shoulders like a cloak.

She laboured on her knees a long while, as the sun steadily rose outside, banishing the moon once more. The rain continued to pound against the roof, the sky still a thunderous grey as she worked tirelessly to bring their platinum sparks into being. He was with her, holding her hand firmly as each wave wracked her small form. He brushed her hair back from her neck, whispered words of encouragement and praise, sent her all his feelings of hope and devotion and love he could across their bond. When each peak lessened he was there with the cloth and the steaming water, wiping away the sweat of her exertions, his eyes wide with wonder and heart filled with pride. 

Finally, the waves of agony seemed to condense until the time between them was counted in small minutes. Then seconds, and finally until there was no gap between them at all. She knew then the time was close, exhausted already, but knowing the true work was about to begin. He sat beside her as he had all night and most of the day, cross-legged and attentive, awaiting any directive from her. She nodded to him, her breath coming in shallow ragged gasps, and he moved closer. 

“Yes, ma’las?” His voice was low with anticipation, and he let out a long breath trying to calm himself. 

“It’s time, be ready to…hold them. To pull them out, if need be.” He nodded, his eyes wild, swallowing hard. 

Another wave hit her then and she felt a terrible pressure at the base of her. Her instinct was right, it was time now and she widened her stance to be more comfortable. Her shoulders and knees squared, her back arched as she started to push with the contraction. She growled low in her chest, moving up through her throat where it became an anguished scream as it left her mouth. His gentle hand was on her back as he whispered praise and encouragement in the common tongue and elvhen, calling her every sweet endearment he knew. 

The pain receded and she relaxed a short moment, catching her breath until the next hit her even more forcefully. Her breath caught in a ragged gasp as she bore down again with all her might, desperate to have this done, the agonising pain too much to bear. She felt split open, her body only a vessel, giving way to this new life that pushed insistently into the world. The furs below were fisted into her grasp, his hand still on her back as she laboured, crying out wordlessly. He didn’t try to take the pain from her now, or try to calm her, seemingly recognising it wasn’t necessary. He let her work, murmuring his praise all the while, mostly lost in the sound of her cries and the pounding rain. 

Another wave then and she pushed down, feeling movement below, and she cried out with relief as there was a rush of fluids and a release of pressure. He jumped up then, moving behind her, quickly rushing to gently take the head and shoulders of a tiny, pink new creature in his hands. He stared in wonderment, his eyes wide and tear filled.

“Just one more, ma’las. I have them.” He called to her, his voice hoarse with emotion. 

She did as she was bid, as the pain crested she pushed one more time, groaning with effort and she felt his hands pull the little thing gently from her. There was a quiet moment, a single beat, before a wonderful shrill wail filled the air. Her heart soared with joy and relief as she looked over her shoulder to see him holding their daughter, cradling her tiny form against his bare chest, tears falling down his cheeks.

She was still attached, the cord reaching between them as she lay panting on the furs, awaiting the next wave. She hoped for a short reprieve, that her second daughter would not be so eager, so stubborn and wilful. A ridiculous notion, given both of her parents. She motioned to Solas, and he met her eyes, a world of emotion reflected in his. 

“The cord,” She said breathlessly, “Cut it, close to her.” 

He nodded, placing the baby gently on her back on his woollen cloak. Her face was screwed up in an angry squall, fists balled up as she cried. His lip curled into a small smile as he reached for his pack and the plain silver dagger he carried. It was the same one he had slashed both of their hands with, when he bonded his spirit with hers, right after their joining had created this tiny being. He held the small creature firmly, still squirming, as he deftly sliced through the cord and then waved a hand across both ends so they quickly stopped bleeding. He then picked up his daughter, marvelling at how small she was, bringing her back to his Hope as she now lay on her back on the furs. 

She felt her heart surge with love as he reached out to place the tiny girl against her chest, tears falling from her eyes in earnest now. She had ten perfect toes and ten perfect little fingers, a tiny petite nose just like hers and a smattering of dark auburn hair just like his. Her ears were tiny, long and pointed, a rosy pink blush at the tips. 

“Look what we did, my heart. Da’Fenlin.” He whispered, the awe readily apparent in his voice. He reached out to the tiny thing and she grabbed a long finger, wrapping her little hand around it with a surprising strength. He smiled delightedly, just looking between her and his love for a long moment. 

She stroked a finger gently across her tiny pink cheek, the pain in her belly making it known again as she remembered she was only half-way through. She motioned to Solas, lifting the baby gently and offering her to him.  He cradled her softly as he moved her back to his cloak on the ground beside them. She watched him wrap her gently, swaddling her firmly so she couldn’t move about, and then nestled her safely on a wolf pelt within arms reach. He turned back to his love just as she moved back to her knees, another wave beginning to crest. 

They both knew exactly what to do this time, as she pushed fiercely with each peak of agony, his hand against her back and gentle praises in her ears. She groaned, and growled and screamed bringing her second daughter into the world. She emerged with a rush of bloody fluid as he caught her gently, pulling the tiny form to his chest again. Her high-pitched shriek of anger and surprise filled him with relief, and he took her to the other cloak he’d laid out carefully, pulling his dagger and separating her from the cord that trailed back to his hope. 

He turned back to Ellana then to see her collapsed on her front, her thighs and the furs beneath her thick with blood. He leapt into action, quickly wrapping the tiny creature in the cloak as she squealed and cried in indignant outrage. He reached the potions, grabbing for one blindly as he rushed back to her side. Her eyes had drifted closed, proud and happy her job was mostly done. There was only the after to be delivered and it could wait a moment. She was so tired, so exhausted - drained - that she felt consciousness begin to ebb away. She belatedly realised the pool of blood she was now lying in, knowing it was too much, her lifeblood running out. 

But then he was there, and she felt a great spark of his golden magic push into her from his hands on her back. It moved right into the centre of her, burning through her veins as she gasped breathlessly, her eyes now snapping open to find his above her as he worked, desperate to pull her back. Wordlessly he grabbed her shoulders, roughly pulling her over onto her back as he loomed above her. He pulled her shoulders up, forcing her into a sitting position as he uncorked a potion bottle with one hand, bringing it quickly to her mouth. She accepted gratefully, the liquid thick and tasting of honey. A brew of his own she realised, made just for her. She felt it fill her, taking the edge off her remaining hurt, the panic beginning to fade. 

He pulled her to him, gasping as he wrapped her tightly in his arms, burying his face in her hair as he wept relieved tears. It was her turn to comfort now, and she stroked his hair back from where it stuck to his brow with sweat. She whispered words of reassurance in his ear, she was alright, as she said she would be. But she was not quite done yet, and she wanted desperately to hold her girls. He gently disentangled himself from her, letting her settle onto her back again against the furs. He went quickly to where he had laid the twins down next to each other, carefully picking up a bundle in each arm, cradling them with all the care he possessed. 

He came back to her then, holding out the first small bundle for her to accept. She carefully removed them from the cloak, wanting to feel her skin against her bare chest. She laid the cloak down next to her, pressing the tiny creature against her chest softly. Then she reached out for the other bundle, as Solas carefully unwrapped the cloak and held the second girl out for her to take. She pulled her close too, pressing her against the other side of her chest. They were both quiet now, the two girls, seemingly contented for the moment. 

Solas and Ellana both watched in awe as each girl waved a single hand in the air between them, silently reaching for each other. They had shared a womb for eight months, two halves of the same spirit now distilled into two forms, but they would not be separated for anything. The tiny hands finally met, the girls gently cooing as they held each other. 

The matter of the afterbirth was dealt with quickly, Solas handling it as she pushed, a baby latched to each breast as they suckled greedily for the first time. After a time, his three girls fell asleep, exhausted. He looked around for something he could use as a cradle, something comfortable for his delicate little beings to sleep in while his exhausted wife could get some rest. He found a large basket in a cupboard in the kitchen, and quickly brought it back to where the three lay comfortably. He lined it with some dry soft furs, wolf pelts he noted with a slight smile, and then gently reached for his first girl. They would need names, and soon he thought, as he nestled her amongst the furs. 

Separated from her sister she immediately began to cry, a noisy wail he was terrified would wake his Hope but he happily saw she continued to slumber, so exhausted it seemed nothing would wake her. He picked up the second baby then, bringing her down softly next to her sister where they once again reached for each other. He smiled indulgently as he leaned over them, the pride almost bursting out of his chest. He lifted his makeshift cradle gingerly, moving them over the space at the side of the comfortable wooden bed, within arms reach. 

He went back to Ellana then as she lay on her back, her chest rising and falling heavily with deep sleep. He gently pushed her thighs open, using a damp cloth to clean the remaining blood and fluids from her. Then he lifted her carefully as she continued to sleep, moving her over to the bed where he laid her comfortably. He climbed in under the covers, pulling her close to him, his arm around her middle as it always was and his face tucked into her neck.

His mind raced as he thought of this precious, new family he had made with her. The tiny spark ignited by their passion and love and hope, now real and tangible. Two living, breathing, squalling beings who needed him. He felt the weight of it in his chest - the expectation - and his spirit rose to it like a challenge. Sleep eventually found him, a blissful refuge, from the many long nights he knew awaited them. 

Chapter Text

Ellana slept for what felt like an age, exhaustion both physical and emotional wearing her down. She came to with the feel of Solas’s gentle hand on her shoulder, and his voice soft over the sound of the still-pounding rain. 

“Wake up, my hope.” He said softly, shaking her shoulder gently. He brushed her hair back from her neck, still in the long braid he had plaited earlier, bringing his fingers to stroke her cheek. She was so warm, comfortably cradled against his hips that she just murmured a refusal, snuggling against him closer. Her eyes snapped open a moment later to the sound of a shrill wail, her reverie broken as reality came flooding back in. She rolled half onto her back then, looking over her shoulder to his face where he looked down at her with a wry smile. 

“I tried everything I could first, vhenan, I know you’re exhaus-” He began, before she cut him off with a gentle press of her lips to his. He murmured in appreciation against her touch, pulling back quickly when the wail sounded again, joined by a second louder one. He chuckled, shaking his head gently. 

“She is quite insistent, that one.” He said, a hint of pride colouring the mirth in his voice. 

She sat up in bed, bracing herself against the headboard as she stretched, luxuriating in it, a deep ache still in her back and neck. His eyes followed the outline of her form, dragging across her full breasts and lower, seemingly unable to help himself. She caught him looking and he ducked his head, a look of shame quickly coming over him. She felt her heart lurch at his expression, putting two fingers to his chin to drag his gaze back to hers. 

“Ma’len, never be ashamed of that. I want you to be excited to see me naked every day for the rest of the time we have.” She smiled delightedly as he blushed, a dusky pink spreading across his cheeks and the tips of his ears. She pulled him close for a kiss then, her lips moving across his hungrily. They broke away and she buried her face in his neck, inhaling his scent as she listened to the pounding rain. The shrill cries came again, and she pulled away laughing. 

“Would you bring them to me please, my heart.” She said softly, relaxing back and getting comfortable. She watched him move to the makeshift bassinet he placed their two tiny daughters in, picking up one girl delicately with deliberate slowness. The tiny creature quieted under his touch, watching him with soft grey eyes. 

He moved carefully back to Ellana, handing her over as if she was the most precious thing he had ever handled. She settled her against her breast, reaching out her other hand to take the other girl as she was offered, doing the same. The second girl had her eyes closed, calmer, but shared her sisters’ shock of dark auburn hair. Solas came to Ellana and pressed his lips to her forehead, before moving through the small cabin to the kitchen. 

He returned a short time later, carefully returning both girls together to their cot as they now slumbered quietly. He joined Ellana back in bed then, with a tray containing a tea set and some crusty bread, dried fruit and some preserves. She wolfed down her food, starving as he nodded approvingly, never taking his eyes off her. When they were done he set the tray aside, relaxing back and pulling her gently against his chest. Her breathing quickly deepened, her body fully relaxing as she fell asleep in his arms. Sleep took him too, until much later, when he was woken again by another wail. 

The rest of the evening, and the next day passed just the same. Solas and Ellana tended to their daughters, and to each other, in the little cabin in the grove. The two never missed a moment to steal a touch or a kiss from each other, caught up in each other still as they worked to establish a new routine with the two tiny, insistent creatures who depended on them. Evening came, a new moon coming to take the place of the diminishing sun, as the two of them finished sharing a bath. They each threw on a fresh set of soft clothing, Ellana having preferred to stay bare the last day, comfortable in bed with the soft pelts against her skin. 

Solas stood in the kitchen clearing away the remnants of a meal as she watched, inwardly considering they would soon have to leave, if only to seek further provisions. They had only brought enough food for a few days, expecting this to be a short romantic interlude and not the life-changing journey it had been. There was a noise then, heard clear over the sound of the rain, shattering their idyllic peace. A hard knock on the cabin door, loud and jarring. 

Solas froze, his eyes darting between Ellana, his girls and the front door. He motioned to Ellana to get behind him and she did, her breath now caught in her throat. He moved quickly, his right hand weaving a complicated pattern in the air as he set a barrier behind him. She saw his eyes flare that bright pale blue as he turned to her, ensuring they were safely enveloped in the bubble. He then threw open the door, ready to rush whatever stood on the other side. 

His face softened as he took in the shape of Cole, bedraggled and soaking wet, rain running in rivulets off his oversized hat. Solas clapped a hand to his shoulder, pulling him quickly inside the doorway out of the deluge. 

“Cole, I am glad to see you, friend. I was surprised not to see you sooner.” He said softly, smiling as the younger man just nodded in his usual way. 

“Yes, well he had to wait for us,” Came a voice from outside, as Rook came trudging in, a scowl firmly affixed to her features. Emmrich was close behind, stepping in delicately holding his staff aloft, and waving a hand through the air over the both of them until they were dry. They turned then, taking in the scene before them in surprise. 

“Cole just said you needed us but wouldn’t say why…” Rook said, her tone much softer now that she saw the two girls gently slumbering. “Cole! Why didn’t you say they needed us because the babies were coming!?” She whispered fiercely, rounding on him with a glare. 

“Told you, homecoming awaits amidst a thunderous sky. Could not have been clearer, sometimes the words are just words.” He said serenely as Solas snorted, covering it with a cough. He dropped the barrier then, seeing it was not needed. Ellana came forward, pulling Cole into a hug before letting him go gently.

“Have you come to take us home? We are ready to make the journey back, it would have been perilous with just the two of us so I am glad for the extra company.” She spoke evenly but she was still exhausted, physically still sore and functioning on fractured sleep. 

“Yes,” Rook replied, “Gather everything you need, we’ll wait outside and give you some privacy.” 

“Should you need anything you need only ask, we are at your disposal.” Emmrich added, nodding to the two of them. 

Emmrich took Rook’s hand in his, and stepped out the front door to wait in the grove beyond. Rook conjured a barrier as they walked, keeping them dry for now as they waited, coming to rejoin Manfred who had decided to explore outside for now. Ellana made a move to begin packing but Solas pushed her gently back down on the sofa, shaking his head softly. He moved about, collecting the various belongings they’d scattered around the place, managing to fit everything into his large pack. He handed it wordlessly to Cole who shouldered it. 

Then he went to the bedroom, collecting the remaining sturdy woollen blanket off the bed. He looked to his two girls, slumbering peacefully in their makeshift cot, and Ellana felt a wave of fierce pride and devotion from him across their bond. He was sending it to her, and to them, the feelings written clearly on his face. She went to him then, moving quickly behind him and slipping her arms firmly around his waist as he leaned over the cot. She gave him an affectionate squeeze around the middle, delighting in his soft chuckle. She sent him her feelings of love and gratitude and trust and he turned then, pulling her into an embrace. He almost enveloped her completely, his arms around her back, his face pushed into her hair. 

“Ar lath ma, vhenan.” He breathed, bringing his lips to press a kiss just below her ear. She sighed, leaning into his touch, enjoying the warmth of his body pressed to hers. 

“Bellanaris, my heart.” She replied softly, before gently pulling away, remembering they were not alone any longer. Cole was standing idly by, watching with interest from under his messy blonde hair. Ellana just had to laugh then, he sometimes struck her more as a spirit of Curiosity than one of Compassion. Perhaps it was all the time he had been spending with Manfred. 

Solas laid the woollen blanket out flat on the ground, carefully folding it into a shape that could function as a wearable sling. He motioned for Ellana to come close, draping the fabric over her front and securing it firmly. He knew his two girls hated to be separated, crying out for each other as soon as they were parted, so he picked them both up carefully and placed them together in the little pouch of the makeshift sling. Ellana cradled both of them to her chest as he looked on, concerned. 

“It is comfortable, ma’las? Secure? Will you be able to travel like this, the same journey we took to come here?” He asked imploringly, his hand coming to take hers. 

“Yes, I should think so. I think it will be fine.” She nodded, feeling the soft rise and fall of their two tiny forms against her chest. Solas nodded then, squeezing her hand, before pressing a kiss to her golden vallaslin across her forehead. 

“Let us go home, ma’las.” He murmured, pulling her gently by the hand out the front door. 

They were joined quickly by Rook, Emmrich, Manfred and Cole as they made their way toward the two entwined oaks which marked the exit to the grove. Solas let go of Ellana’s hand then, waving his quickly in front of the portal as it began to glow with a bright golden energy. They all stepped through, one by one, with Solas coming through last. The portal closed behind them, the two oaks now looking for all the world like any other ancient tree in this place. Solas pulled Ellana quickly to him for a kiss then, his lips pressing to hers sweetly like she was a delicate thing. Then he smiled down at the bundle across her chest, before stepping back away from the party.

“It will be safer for all of us if I travel in my other form, you have all seen it so please do not be alarmed.” He said evenly, beginning to transform before anyone could reply. In a matter of seconds the man was gone, replaced by a beast with a shaggy black mane of hair and six glowing eyes. He was not as large as he had been when he fought the Archdemon in Minrathous, but still twice as large as the normal variety. The wolf circled around Ellana several times, before coming to sit next to her, one paw raised to press against her thigh. 

Ellana idly reached out a hand to run across the soft fur of his neck, enjoying the feel of his warm skin beneath. She sent him a thought, across their bond, hoping he would receive it. 

Can you still understand me in this form, vhenan ?

She felt rather than heard his reply, a low growl which came into her mind, still recognisable as his presence but joined with something else. 

Yes, but limited. Feelings easy, words harder. 

She nodded, smiling, continuing to run her hands through his fur. He seemed to enjoy it, setting his tail to a fierce wag before she heard an impatient cough behind her. She had forgotten their escort, and she felt herself blush, like she’d been caught in an intimate moment. She straightened, beginning to walk toward the oak tree with the hidden eluvian they would need for the next step of the journey. Cole fell into step easily beside her, carrying Solas’s pack over one shoulder and a serene expression. 

“I’m surprised you didn’t come to me earlier, as I was labouring with them.” She remarked, keeping step with Rook and Emmrich ahead of her as Solas stalked off to her left. 

“Felt your spirit call for help and his answer, did not need Compassion.” Cole replied softly, shaking his head. 

She just smiled at that, thinking of how terrified he had been initially, giving way to such astounding devotion and care. Her heart swelled even now to think of it, how fortunate she was to have him. 

The wolf next to her snuffled, coming to rub his nose against her hand, a soft whine completely out of place in its fearsome jaws. Her smile widened, running her hand through his mane of fur again as he kept pace with her. 

“So,” Rook called out from up ahead, “Have you picked out names yet?” 

“They already have names, Ara’Vhenas.” Cole replied quickly, looking at the bundle against Ellana’s chest with wide eyes. Ellana chuckled as the wolf let out a soft exhale, an approximation of a laugh she thought. 

“That is their nature, Cole, their spirit. They can’t both be named Homecoming, that would get very confusing. They will need unique names, like how you are both Compassion and Cole.” Ellana explained patiently as they continued to walk, the wolf keeping pace with her. 

“Well, did you ask them?” Cole replied, his voice serene as ever. 

Ellana startled at the prospect, looking down at the two tiny beings strapped securely to her chest. She hadn’t really thought to examine them with her magic or her spirit, preoccupied with keeping them alive and safe and fed, and not making the shrill wail of demand they both seemed to love. As they walked she considered it, reaching out to the two girls to find their spark. She was surprised to find only one, bright and shining platinum, shared between the two. She smiled to herself, sending the feeling of love she had to them and her wolf beside her. The wolf came to rub its snout in her hand again, brushing its bulk against her gently. 

“Originally I thought of giving them names from Clan Lavellan, but none of them would fit. And besides, they’re not Dalish, though they were born here in the waking world.” She considered for a long moment, Rook, Emmrich and Manfred slowing up ahead as they came to a familiar cluster of trees. 

“Can we take a quick breather before we move on?” She asked the group, moving to sit against a nearby fallen tree-stump. Rook just nodded, before moving to stand watch with Emmrich by the inactive eluvian hidden in the trunk of the great oak. The wolf came to sit by her, curling up against her thigh, his warmth and bulk a comfort to her. As she sat quietly with her daughters latched, drinking their fill she let her mind wander, thinking of names. She remembered a conversation, years ago, held with Varric in the main hall at Skyhold. 

As an established author he was well versed at picking names, of course. Proper names and nicknames, both. He hadn’t given her a nickname, preferring to just call her Ellana, though he did occasionally refer to her sarcastically as ‘your inquisitorialness’ which always made her laugh despite herself. Solas of course had been ‘Chuckles’, a nickname meant to evoke just the opposite but Ellana quite thought it suited him at times. What advice would he give now, Ellana wondered, if she asked for help with the two tiny insistent creatures in her arms. Probably something like “Don’t overcomplicate it, just go with what feels right. It’s only a name after all, they can use a nickname if they don’t like it! Better yet, make Chuckles think something up, they’re his too.” 

She smiled to herself, running her hand through her wolf's fur as she sat for a moment longer. Rook called over to her then, obviously growing impatient. 

“Are you ready to move yet, we’re losing daylight sitting around.” 

There was an immediate low growl from the wolf, who moved quickly to stand between Rook and Ellana. He seemed to grow in size, baring his teeth at Rook in a snarl. It was Emmrich of course who defused the situation, putting both of his hands up in a calming gesture. 

“I’m sure it was not meant in that way Solas, she can take all the time she needs of course.” Emmrich said smoothly, throwing a pointed look at Rook who just rolled her eyes. 

Ellana gathered her things together, moving to fall into step again next to Solas who she noted had not shrunk down to his former size. She sent him her feelings of gratitude, knowing he was only trying to be protective. The wolf huffed, a hard exhale moving through his nostrils, clearly still bothered. She ran a hand through the soft fur of his back, and he finally quieted,  jaws closing on the snarl. 

Rook stood before the mirror, its surface dull in the midday sun. She raised the lyrium dagger, waving it in front of her as the mirror surface began to shimmer. They all stepped through, with Ellana holding onto the wolf's fur as she made the trip. 

She found her feet again on the stone floor, in the storage chamber filled with dust and the lingering smell of damp. The eluvian dimmed behind them, the group of them moving slowly two-by-two down the narrow corridor lit by green veilfire lamps. They went through an arch and then weaved down another corridor, only the sound of their breath and footfalls filling the air. They came to the central walled courtyard, the altar before them and the towering stone effigy of the All-Father above. The group made no motion to stop, pushing through until they were on the far side. Rook, Emmrich, Cole and Manfred had gone through the opening, pushing through to the next corridor as a shimmering black barrier closed over the archway. 

Ellana froze, her hand on her wolf’s back as she heard a low, hoarse laugh behind her. It continued longer than it should have as her eyes searched the chamber for its source. Solas began to growl then, loud and menacing, his teeth bared in a snarl. The laughing finally gave way to a cold silence as a figure stepped out from behind the altar. They were difficult to look at properly, almost fuzzy around the edges as though not fully corporeal. They were impossibly tall, imposing with a golden crown and stern features. She felt panic flood her as she realised what this was, an imprint or a fragment of Elgar’nan, awakened here in his lost temple. 

“Fen’Harel, how disappointing.” He drawled, the words almost dripping from his throat. “You debase our race, degrade yourself, mating with this mortal? I expected better, even from you.”

The wolf continued to growl, moving quickly in front of Ellana as Rook and Emmrich fought to dismantle the barrier from the other side. Ellana backed away carefully, her heart thudding crazily in her chest with panic. The wolf launched itself at the image of the All-Father then, a fight beginning in earnest as they wrestled with each other. There was a wild blur of snarling jaws, claws and the tearing of flesh. Bursts of static and bright flashes of magic as the two were locked in combat, Ellana helpless to do much. 

Rook and Emmrich finally brought the barrier down then, joining the fight as Cole rushed to her more urgently than she had ever seen him move. He ushered her quickly to the archway, his hand on her shoulder firmly. She had never seen him act this way, with her or anyone else, and she felt this had to be Solas’s influence. She watched anxiously as Rook and Emmrich joined the fray, him opening up weaknesses for her to exploit with her fire magic. Rook was wild, her hair had come loose around her face and she had an almost jubilant look about her as she danced around the figure of Elgar’nan. She was enjoying this, Ellana realised, perhaps more than she should be. 

She proved enough distraction for Solas to latch on with his jaws, taking a chunk out of the spirit-flesh of the creature’s middle. It howled in pain and frustration, aiming a mighty blow which caught Rook off guard and sent her flying. A second later a pulse of energy sent Emmrich reeling back, falling to the ground and clutching his head. The wolf growled again, seeing the tide turn against him, and he launched himself at the neck of the being. He bit down, but found the spirit-flesh moving to reform, unable to find purchase any longer. He raked his claws down the front of the thing, finding only a smug look to meet him.

The wolf howled in frustration, looking at Rook and Emmrich gathering themselves back together. Then the spirit clicked his fingers, a heavy bubble of magic suspending all of them in the moment as he wandered lazily past the wolf frozen in step. He came to Ellana, frozen in fear with Cole by the far archway, tilting his head to the side as he regarded her. 

“So, you’re the one who made the Dreadwolf forget himself. How could he ever think he was deserving of this?” He reached out to stroke Ellana’s cheek and she felt a wave of revulsion well up before his hand moved with intent toward the bundle across her chest. 

She felt a bright platinum spark well up in her chest then, joined by his gold and her silver as she was filled with shared magic, becoming an intense thrumming conduit of energy. It burned in her veins, consuming her as it rushed through her body, building until she could not contain it any longer. A wordless growl tore from her throat as she thrust her delicate golden hand out to the hideous thing's chest, laying her palm flat against it. It looked down, and she registered the shock on its face in the moment before it was blown apart into dust. 

Everyone let out an explosive breath, sound and time returning to them as they all rushed back to her, breathing heavily. Solas got there first, transforming mid-stride back to himself as he pulled her fiercely into his embrace, leaving room for the bundle at her chest.  He was shaking with heavy sobs, unable to form the words he needed to say so he sent them to her across their bond. 

My fierce hope, I love you, never do that again. Please, I couldn’t stand it, are you safe? Is everything alright? Are they alright?

He didn’t wait for an answer, pressing his lips to hers in desperation, needing to know she was with him. She returned his kiss eagerly, breathless, uncaring of their audience and how they surely stared. He had dried blood on his mouth and she kissed him still, reassuring him with her hands moving to fist in his hair and pull him close. Rook laughed then, ignored by the two of them.

“Gods above, get a room.” She quipped, her footsteps receding from them as she and Emmrich evidently decided to give them some privacy. 

Ellana and Solas stayed locked together for a long moment, until she finally pulled away, bringing her hand to his cheek. 

“We really are alright, my heart. We should really keep moving, we still have a long way until home.” 

He nodded, kissing her softly one last time before he took his wolf form again. He shrank back down in size until he was just larger than a normal wolf, keeping step with her as she joined the others. 

Emmrich was deftly tending to a wound on Rook’s face, the final vestiges of his green magic disappearing into her skin as Ellana approached. They both rose together then, ready to set off once more. 

Another dull mirror activated with a sweep of the arm, and they stepped through, single file into a winding dirt tunnel. They made quick work of it, Ellana soon panting with exertion as they left the winding ever-upwards curling tunnel behind, emerging from the root of a tree into an artic white landscape. With no cloak to warm her this time Ellana was immediately freezing, and she reached out to her wolf for support. He nuzzled against her thigh as she felt his magic reach her, warm and golden, settling across her shoulders. She rubbed her hand across his fur appreciatively, tucking the bundle on her chest lower into the sling so the two tiny girls weren’t exposed to the frigid air. 

They trudged through the heavy snow, following the footprints the group had only just left on their journey to collect them. Soon enough they were before the mirror, and Ellana this time reached out to activate it, surprising the others as it came to life for her. 

“I’ll always have Fen’Harel’s blessing.” She smiled knowingly, the wolf ducking his head in an almost-nod. 

They stepped through again, Ellana and her wolf last, finding themselves on the shattered floating island covered in mist. She paused for a moment, thinking of their guide and how he would know to find his passengers here. 

No sooner had she had the thought than she saw the strange vessel approaching them, making its lazy way across the sky toward the clearing where they stood. It came low to the ground, Rook and Emmrich quickly stepping on board with Manfred to sit in the front row. Cole stepped in then, holding his hand out for Ellana to steady her as she took a cautious step. Solas joined them last, clearly preferring to stay as a wolf, curling up next to her at the rear of the vessel. 

“Home awaits, dwellers.” Intoned the Caretaker, as their unusual boat began quickly skimming across the sky.

Ellana awoke, what seemed like a long while later, to Cole’s gentle hand on her shoulder. She found herself pressed up against the side of the boat, her wolf curled around her protectively as she slept. He still slumbered, a heavy rumbling in his chest, and she felt a fierce fondness for him flare in her heart. She took his great furry head between her two hands, rubbing his ears softly until he awoke, his six eyes blinking open slowly. She smiled, pressing a soft kiss to his snout as he let out a small whine in response. 

“Come, ma’len. We’re ready for the last leg now, almost home.” She whispered, readjusting the bundle on her chest. There was an approximation of a nod, and the two of them stepped off the strange vessel onto the dock as the others stood by waiting. The Caretaker waved a wordless farewell, drifting off serenely toward the distant horizon.

Close to home now they slowed, taking the final steps at a casual stroll. They moved from the dock toward the central platform of the place Rook called ‘Beacon Island’, connected to most other parts of the Crossroads. They moved up the stone steps, toward the far side of the mirror that would take them home, the Vi’Revas. Ellana stepped forward to activate it, laying her hand on the cold surface of the dull object. It began to shimmer, and she motioned for the group to step through one by one until only her and the wolf were left. He transformed again mid-stride, safe now to be just himself. He reached out his arms and pulled her to him, pressing his lips to hers as they stepped through the mirror together. 

Chapter Text

His feet found the familiar hard stone floor of the Lighthouse hallway, and he pulled her to him and finished the kiss he began on the far side of the mirror. They stood together a long while, her hands firmly tugging at his waist and his pulse racing in his ears until he felt something rush by his knee. He started then, breaking away from her, realising the mirror was still active, going unnoticed by both of them in their desperation to hold each other. He cursed himself inwardly, his eyes darting around frantically for whatever had followed them through. The mirror finally dulled, and in the fading light he finally saw his quarry, sitting a few feet away apparently unfazed by the ruckus. 

It was a little cat, or at least something taking the approximate shape of one. It shimmered with an intense pale blue glow, looking half-way incorporeal, a dainty paw raised in the air as it sat grooming itself on the stone floor of the hallway. His brows drew together in a frown as he took in the unexpected guest, some of the stress lifting from his shoulders. 

“What is it, vhenan?” Ellana called from over his shoulder, and he turned to her realising he had thrown himself protectively in front of her again. He gave her a reassuring smile, motioning that it was safe for her to join him. She approached and he pressed a gentle kiss to her lips, savouring her for just a moment before he pulled back. 

Then he stooped over to press an even softer kiss to the forehead of each of his girls as they slumbered, bundled tightly still against Ellana’s chest. He heard a contented sigh from her and let himself revel in the sound, enjoying how it filled his heart with pride. 

“It is just a harmless spirit, it must have been curious enough to follow us.” He murmured, stepping aside so she could see the little thing down the corridor, now sitting on its haunches watching them appraisingly. Ellana let out a delighted gasp, moving toward the creature eagerly, turning back to Solas with a look of excitement on her face. 

“Oh, I’ve always wanted a pet and I’ve never been stable in one place long enough or had the time, and the Dalish don’t believe in keeping pets that aren’t practical and -” She stopped herself, her hand outstretched to the little creature, a fierce blush falling across her cheekbones and ear tips. Solas just chuckled indulgently, his mouth lifted into a small teasing smirk. 

“Far be it from me to stop you, ma’las . The two of you seem to have your own ideas, by the look of things.” He replied smoothly, motioning his head to the glimmering little shape as it approached her. He watched Ellana reach out a hand to brush softly down the back of the creature as it arched against her, clearly enjoying her touch. Then she reached out and scooped it up, cradling it like it was just another baby. He just laughed, shaking his head softly.

“Alright, then. If it brings you joy, my heart.” He took her by the hand, brushing his lips across her knuckles gently before leading her down the corridor to the Lighthouse proper. 

Rook and Emmrich were seated on the sofa in front of the big table in the round central chamber. Manfred loitered behind Emmrich’s chair as he often did, and there was no sign of Cole currently as he seemingly had absconded on their return. Their packs and other equipment were strewn on the floor, clearly thrown there as they slumped down exhausted. Solas gave them a grateful nod as he and Ellana came up the winding stairs, not stopping beyond that to continue toward their private bedchamber. 

They went through the music room as the door opened with a gentle whoosh, then through the swirling blue portal until they finally reached their private refuge. He was exhausted, a weary bone-tiredness he had not felt in months since coming here with her, but that once would have been familiar to him as breathing. He saw his pack carefully placed on his desk, and inwardly reminded himself to thank Cole for all his efforts today. He had forcefully intruded in the poor boy's mind before the fragment of Elgar’nan called a time stop, and he knew the intrusion was rapid and clumsy in his desperate haste to have him protect them. It would have been painful, and he needed to find time to apologise. Cole was a gentle spirit, and it pained him to use him and hurt him like he did. He resolved to seek him out and set it right as soon as he had them settled. 

Ellana deposited the little spirit-cat on their bed, seemingly content there as it curled up with its feet under itself and began a loud purr. Then she moved slowly to the new room they had prepared just before leaving, in hindsight something he was very glad they had found the time for. He looked at the heavy oak door as he passed through, his eyes running over the empty plaque on the front awaiting the inscriptions of two names. When they had built it this room seemed strange, full of potential but an amorphous concept he couldn’t really align with his reality. With Ellana here now, and the two little girls strapped to her chest, the room was brought into stark relief. He realised now they had made a mistake, an error in the design he should have realised from the first moment he detected the two hearts instead of one. 

As Ellana approached one of the cots he put a gentle hand to her forearm, pulling her away with a soft shake of his head. She cocked her head at him, frowning for a moment but then he closed his eyes and her expression was lost to him. He thought then of how inseparable his girls were, how they cried out for each other, how they reached their little hands for each other whenever they were parted. He willed his thoughts to manifest, making a small change to the room as he stood with his eyes closed and his hand wrapped around Ellana's. He finally opened his eyes to a large, single crib with a huge statue of Fen’Harel behind it, placed so he could watch over them safely. He smiled down at Ellana then, who was looking up at him with a soft smile. He brought his lips down to hers, savouring her much longer this time, moving a hand to tangle in her hair as she hummed appreciatively against him. 

He pulled back from her eventually, drawing her over to the daybed against one wall. He delicately extracted the two girls still bundled together from the sling around Ellana’s front, placing them on their backs on the soft mattress. He quickly untied them, removing them from their blanket swaddle and placed them softly on their backs in the awaiting cot together. He moved back to Ellana to untie the sling then, working at the knots which had been brought under tension as they travelled. Eventually he gave up and ran his finger across it, slicing it up the middle before throwing the two pieces in a heap. 

He caught her by the shoulder as she moved to look over the girls, bringing his hands to her neck to begin to work some of the tension from her. He pulled her to sit with him on the daybed as he worked, a small moan leaving her lips before she could stop it. Then she leaned into him continuing the small sounds of delight, the feeling apparently too enjoyable to care. He worked her sore tendons and knots with his deft fingers, enjoying her reaction as she began to relax properly against him. 

After a few minutes he noticed her even breath, and realised that she had fallen asleep against him again. She must be so exhausted, he thought, as he gently pulled away from her. She didn’t stir as he maneuvered her around so her legs were curled under her and her head came to rest on the pillow. He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, his breath catching in his chest as he saw her there, sleeping so peacefully. He looked over his shoulder toward the cot with the tiny sleeping creatures, quiet for now but surely getting ready to scream down the walls of the Lighthouse at any moment. 

They were tiny little copies of each other, the same auburn hair and tiny nose and same stubborn look in their grey eyes when they awoke. He felt his heart swell, for the life he lived and could never even dream of in thousands of years. Everything of import, everything that mattered to him, his entire world, was in this room before him. He had meant to leave them to slumber, the three of them so peaceful, but he could not seem to tear himself away. Instead he moved back to Ellana, climbing in gently behind her, pulling her tight to him as he fell into oblivion too. 

He moved across the soft earth as he lazily wound his way through the forest, the ground damp between the pads of his paws. There was a clinging mist swirling around him, and drops of water continued to fall from the leaves of branches high above. The deluge had abated, the sky above clear and radiant black burning with the far-off fires of the night. He moved without purpose, simply wishing to feel the ground move beneath him, shaking his coat out to loosen the damp from his pelt. He tensed, muscles rippling across his back as he gracefully extended his form, pushing into a run. His heart raced, exhilarated, crashing through the underbrush, leaping over a dark puddle of still water. He caught his reflection, six eyes gleaming, the man overlaid over the top. 

He stilled, remembering the man. He sat on his haunches in the mud, bringing one paw to his mouth to lick, setting it down again absently. Something about him was familiar, something he knew but couldn’t quite place. He shook again, his shaggy mane of fur falling about messily. He saw a shape then, moving quickly, beyond the treeline. It darted from tree to tree, quick nervous movements as it came ever closer. 

He pressed himself low, waiting in anticipation for it, curious and eager to see if they were prey or foe. He felt something curious from the small thing, a sort of wonder and excitement that his mind had no way to interpret. It was too complex a thought, too new and strange and not his own. He shivered when it finally came into view, a small fox, its fur a pure pristine white. It darted around through the brush carrying a fat, fluffy tail. It ran from tree to tree, stopping to examine each one, scratching and smelling and digging through the floor of leaf-litter. 

Then it stilled, scenting the air, before its head snapped toward him. He felt its gaze boring into his mind, into the centre of him, and suddenly he remembered the man. He took this shape sometimes, especially in dreams. He knew her too, the little fox, recognition flooding in as he finally realised the truth. He was an experienced Dreamer, having spent much of his existence in the Fade in dreams, and he was shocked he was so drawn by this dream he had lost himself far longer than usual.

The little fox came closer, her head held high as she approached him without fear. His six eyes regarded her small form, her white fur pristine, ears pointed, and her mouth open baring two rows of shiny pointed teeth. She came to him, and he leaned in close to her as she nuzzled against his snout. He shivered as a wave of delight ran through him, before he swiped his tongue up the creature’s face. It darted back, and then affectionately nipped him across the snout before breaking away and moving into a sprint. 

He urged his form into a run, dashing after the small creature as she darted quickly through the brush. He was larger and stronger, but she was fast and he struggled to keep up. She nimbly leapt through gaps too large for him, squeezed under fallen branches he had to jump and even hid from him, climbing up the bark of a trunk while he ran past in pursuit. She doubled back, waiting for him, giving him just enough time to sight her before she was off again.  His heart was in his chest, his breath coming in panting gasps as he chased his quarry. Every time he thought he lost her in the brush he would find her waiting patiently for him, ensuring the chase continued before she took off again. They ran for a long while, her darting ahead and him in hot pursuit. 

Slowly the forest became almost oppressive, the canopy so thick overhead it blotted out any moonlight from above. The mess of trees and shrubs seemed to continue in every direction as he chased her, his eyes on the thick white tail ahead of him. Then suddenly he was in a clearing, the small white fox on her haunches in front of him, seemingly having given up the chase. His heart fell, too soon for the fun to be over as, he moved to join her. He saw then where her gaze was drawn, to the centre of the clearing where a large puddle stood. Splashing around in the water, rolling around in the mud, were two tiny wolf pups. The man in the back of his mind supplied a word then, a fitting one for the two little creatures. 

Da Fen’lin

They had matching pelts in a striking silver, their eyes glowing a fierce deep grey. They tumbled together, playfully snarling and nipping at each other, darting away before they could be caught by the other. He found his breath catch in his chest seeing them, their spirits so perfectly matched, distilled from the best parts of him and her. He looked to the little fox then, and pressed himself closer, pushing his snout against her side. She nuzzled against him for a long moment, and he felt his blood calm under her touch, always close to boiling in this form but now just a gentle simmer. Then she darted away, turning back to him and waiting, seemingly for him to follow.

He moved quickly to join her, pushing to a run just as she reached the two pups. They stopped playing as she quickly moved to sniff them, sitting quietly for the first time on their haunches in the shallow water. He approached cautiously, head low so as to not scare them off, and he came to scent them too. After a long moment one pup seemed to have enough, and she reached out to swipe him with a paw before running off. The other pup joined her, then the little fox, and finally he gave chase to them all as a soft noise left his jaws. Had it been from the man, it might have sounded like a laugh.

They both awoke to the shrill sound of a demanding wail, one of the girls followed by the other one. He opened his eyes, smiling ruefully as he met Ellana’s, looking over her shoulder back at him. She slipped out from his grasp and they both moved to the cot, picking up a girl each. He waited dutifully for Ellana to get comfortable on the daybed before handing her the second girl, coming to sit next to her as she gave her attention to the two babies. He always felt a little useless at these times, when he could do nothing but sit by her. She obviously felt his doubt, as she took his hand and squeezed it firmly. 

“You are helping, just by being here with me ma’len . I could not do this without you.” She whispered, leaning her head against his shoulder. He rubbed circles against her back, the two of them sitting quietly for a long time, huddled together comfortably. The two babies drank their fill, but the both of them remained unsettled, squirming unhappily. One started a loud, shrill wail and the other quickly joined in, as Ellana looked on in exhausted dismay. 

“May I try something, my heart?” He asked softly, moving to reach both of his hands out to his crying girls. Ellana just nodded, gently offering one girl then the other, watching as he carefully settled them against his chest. He felt his heart jump into his throat as he held them both, now squalling against him, their little faces screwed up in anger. 

He pushed down his feelings of doubt, instead remembering the song he had written for them, the one he had practiced with his heart just in the next room. He raised his voice in elvhen, his tone soft and lilting, a gentle lullaby just for the two of them. Ellana watched him with reverence as he sang, her eyes filling with tears as she reached out a hand to squeeze his thigh in support. 

Elgara vallas, da’fenlin

Melava somniar 

Mala tara aravas 

Ara ma'desen melar  

Iras ma ghilas, da’fenlin 

Ara ma'nedan ashir 

Dirthara lothlenan'as 

Bal emma mala dir

Tel'enfenim, da’fenlin 

Irassal ma ghilas 

Ma garas mir renan 

Ara ma'athlan vhenas 

Ara ma'athlan vhenas 

As his voice lingered on the last word her voice came to join him, the two tiny girls watching the both of them with curious grey eyes. They continued singing, the same words but this time in the common tongue, the two voices joining in harmony. 

Sun sets, little wolfling

Time to dream

Your mind journeys,

But I will hold you here

Where will you go, little wolfling

Lost to me in sleep?

Seek truth in a forgotten land

Deep within your heart

Never fear, little wolfling

Wherever you shall go

Follow my voice

I will call you home

I will call you home

By the mid-point of the common verse the girls had quieted, their grey eyes closing as they drifted off back to sleep. Solas let his own eyes drift shut for a moment, enjoying the quiet and the weight of the babies in his arms. 

“Ma’las, have you thought of what you would like to name them?” He asked softly, his gaze coming to find hers. Her eyes were tired, and he could tell she was exhausted but her small smile set his heart racing thinking he had never seen such a fierce, beautiful creature. 

“Truthfully, I thought we had more time to consider names but it got away from us. Or rather, they did, far too wilful to wait for their allotted time.” She sighed gently, looking down at the pair of tiny redheads in his arms. 

“Indeed, I had not expected them to come into our lives quite so soon, though it did seem to work out for the best. Born in the waking world, but with the Fade on their skin, in a sacred place. It is better than I ever dreamed for them.” His tone was so soft, the wonder evident as he gazed upon them. 

“Born in the waking world…” She repeated, frowning. She took a long moment, clearly thinking something through. He waited patiently, his eyes searching hers. “Ma’len, they were born in the waking world! Are they going to be…” 

She didn’t seem to be able to finish her sentence, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes as she looked at him in horror. His mind was sluggish, slowly working through his options on what could possibly be her concern here. Eventually, she used their bond, sending him the thought she was too afraid to voice. 

Will they be mortal? 

He groaned low in realisation then, motioning for her to come to him, delicately wrapping his arms around her trying not to disturb the two thankfully quiet beings in his arms. She was crying then, tears falling before she could stop them and he reached out to brush them away with one thumb. 

“No, my heart, not mortal. They will be eternal, as we are. This is how it was for the few elvhenan who took a mate, and even if it weren’t you know I would never let them suffer a quickened lifespan. Please, do not worry yourself over this.” He explained earnestly, looking into her eyes to ensure she understood. She only nodded, too fraught to speak, the idea evidently still weighing on her. He was quiet a long moment, the silence heavy between them.

“Names then, we really do need to select some sooner rather than later. I cannot keep calling both of them ‘girl’, it is getting confusing.” He joked quietly, his heart soaring when he heard her teary chuckle in response. 

“Do you have any suggestions?” She asked plainly, “I don’t think there are any suitable names from my clan, and there isn’t anybody I would wish to name them after.” 

He thought for a long moment, trying to remember anything he could about ancient elvhen naming conventions and found he came up short. It had not exactly been a pressing topic of research in the past, and not a common practice in any case. Instead, he thought of people he had known in Arlathan and how their names had sounded. 

“A lot of names became literal translations of elvhen words, like Dread Wolf or Slow Arrow. We used apostrophes to join words together, adjective to noun.” He noticed her eyebrow raise and laughed, nodding his head. “Yes, I know, you did not ask for a lecture. There were a lot of the same sounds at least, ending in -iel or -an or -en.” 

She mulled over that for a long while, evidently thinking of something she could put together that sounded proper for two little girls. She nodded after a while before she leaned over to trace her finger against the face of the first girl - the louder one - and brought her gaze to his. 

“'Mariel' for the elder?” She asked, and he felt himself nodding, feeling the name sit right in his mind. Then she moved her finger to trace along the nose of the other girl, more reserved and less intense than her sister. 

“'Turiel' for the younger, does that fit her?”

“It fits her perfectly ma’las, I think they’re both wonderful names.” He replied softly, pressing his lips gently to hers.  He held out Mariel for her to take, and she quickly pulled her into her arms. Then he stood with Turiel, the both of them moving to take the girls back to their shared cot together. 

As they left the room he waved his hand over the door, the bright platinum plaque now bearing a deep engraving in the neat loops of his handwriting. Etched firmly into the metal were two names, with a tiny wolf head next to each one. 

Mariel Vhenas 

Turiel Vhenas

They moved back into their private bedchamber, and he went to the big tub, waving his hand over it quickly to fill it with steaming water. He went straight to Ellana then, looking small and exhausted and still wearing the travelling clothes she put on that morning leaving the grove. There was grime and dried sweat on her from the hike and the fight in the temple of the All-Father, and he could tell she was too tired to deal with it, wanting only to fall back into bed. He moved slowly to her, coming to mechanically peel off her layers of clothing with a gentle touch. She leaned heavily against him as his hands moved, murmuring in appreciation with her eyes closed. She was quickly naked and he lifted her effortlessly, placing her down gently in the warm water. She sighed with relief, and he kept a concerned watch on her as he quickly undressed himself, throwing his clothes in a heap. 

He joined her, stepping in and settling down behind her. He slowly washed away the exertions of the day, running his warm hands across her skin softly as she breathed deep and leaned against him heavily. He washed her hair, rubbing his fingertips across her scalp as he worked, revelling in her sighs of appreciation. Sitting back slightly he squeezed the excess water from her hair, before separating it into sections and weaving it together in a quick braid. Work done, he wrapped his arms around her soft middle, leaning his chin against her shoulder, and sat for a long while enjoying her soft breath as she fell back into a deep sleep. He felt that fierce surge of pride and love for her again, his brave inspiring Hope, the woman who chased him to the end of the world.

He pressed a kiss to her temple, and then lifted them both from the tub, drying them with the wave of one hand and moving them both to bed. He placed her on the bed, tucking the covers up under chin. The little spirit-cat joined her, jumping up to the spot just behind her pillow. He moved to climb in with her before he heard a cough and spun in place looking for the source. He spied Cole, standing out on the balcony watching serenely from under his oversized hat. Solas moved to him, still naked, ushering Cole outside and closing the balcony door so they did not disturb Ellana or the babies. 

“Cole!” He whispered furiously, “How long have you been here watching, you know she will be very cross with you if she finds out you’ve been in here again, you remember what she said don’t you?” He crossed his arms over his chest, unfazed by his nakedness in front of the other spirit. 

Cole didn’t seem perturbed by the telling off, if anything he was just eager to relay a message which he did breathlessly, the words quickly tumbling from his lips. 

“Just needed to tell you he is here, told him to come before we left, knowing she would want him here. He travelled all day to see her, but he will wait until morning.” 

“He who, Cole?” Solas replied, unable to decipher Cole’s unusual cadence with his lack of sleep and current mood.  

“Dorian.” Cole replied serenely, and then he backed away, his form shimmering as he vanished with a smile on his face. Solas cursed under his breath, thinking he had better at least go and greet this guest so he would know how to behave in the morning.  

He left Ellana sleeping soundly in their bed, throwing on a pair of soft leggings and a comfortable tunic, padding across the room to activate the exit portal.

He found Dorian lounging on the sofa in the central chamber, one leg thrown casually over the arm as he skimmed through the copy of the Randy Dowager Quarterly: Inquisition Exposed Special Edition. He cursed under his breath again, thinking he really needed to lock that book away somewhere.  

Dorian didn’t look up as Solas entered, merely kept flicking through the book as Solas came to stand by him with his arms folded. Eventually Solas cleared his throat, and Dorian lazily dragged his eyes up to his so they met.  

“This book is an absolute scandal, such vivid detail in some of these scenes. And so well annotated by a practiced hand, glad to know we’re getting the full story from the expert.” Dorian teased, clearly hoping to embarrass Solas with the implication.  

Solas felt something wicked well up in his chest, and he knew he shouldn’t, not when it was involved her but he couldn’t help the smirk that came across his face.  

“I can tell you for certain that page seven is definitely accurate.” He almost purred, enjoying the startled look on the other man's face. Dorian’s look of shock eventually gave way to a raucous laugh, and then he threw down the book and pushed it away.  

“So, where is she then? Cole said she needed to talk to me but he did not give me any details, bloody typical of him. Can’t ever see the forest for the trees, that boy. So, what’s this about?”  

“She’s had the babies, Dorian. A couple of days ago, when we were-” 

“What!?” Dorian exploded, rushing up from his chair. “Is she alright? Did everything go well, are they-”  

“They are all absolutely fine.” Solas soothed, pushing the other man back down into his chair. He thought for a short moment, conjuring a bottle of sweet honey whiskey and two crystal tumblers. He poured out two servings, offering one to the other man who accepted it gratefully.  

“They are all upstairs, finally sleeping as we returned not too long ago. She will want to see you as soon as she can in the morning, but she needs her rest. We have both been awake with them every few hours. It has been…more difficult than I expected.” Solas explained, dragging his hand across his face as he yawned.  

Dorian just nodded in understanding, bringing his glass to his lips. He stilled before taking a sip, bringing his sharp gaze back to Solas.  

“So, what are their names?” He asked curiously.

“Mariel and Turiel.” He said softly, the first time he used their names with anyone but her. He felt his spirit glow with pride, a smile coming to his lips unbidden.  

“To Mariel and Turiel, then.” Dorian said, raising his glass before taking a hefty gulp. Solas did the same, downing his glass and pouring another for them both.  

“Lavellan?” Dorian asked, with a raise of his eyebrow.  

Solas shook his head, “No, she doesn’t want them to be raised Dalish. Their second name is ‘Vhenas’ should they need one, it refers to their nature - their spirit - in elvhen it means ‘home’. More accurately, the literal translation means ‘place where the heart is.'"  

“Well, that’s disgustingly sweet. Was that your idea or hers?”  

“Mine.” Solas smirked, knowing a good-natured joke when he heard one. He downed his second glass, placing it back on the table as he moved to stand.  

“Thank you for coming, she will be excited to see you tomorrow. Please use any of the beds in the rooms here, I remember you enjoyed perusing the detective’s quarters last time. You'll remember the kitchen is across the way should you need it.” Solas intoned, motioning to leave.  

Dorian stood quickly, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “You have my congratulations, Solas. I know we have not always seen eye to eye, and I still have significant issues with your lies and what you did to Varric. But I’d have to be a fool to miss how good the two of you are for each other, you always have been. I care for her happiness, so I guess I have to care for you too.”  

Solas blinked, taken aback by the earnest candour of Dorian’s admission. He didn’t have long to ruminate though, before the other man brought him solidly back down to earth.  

“For the love of the Maker, don’t fuck this up.”

Solas swallowed hard, his heart suddenly in his throat. "I will try not to." 

Chapter Text

Ellana found herself lounging on the sofa in the central chamber of the Lighthouse, the twins sleeping in a wicker bassinet lined with wolf pelts that Solas had fashioned for them. Her little spirit-cat she had yet to name curled up next to her, clearly taken with her company. She had spent the morning with Dorian, regaling him of the dramatic tale of their travel to the grove and the unexpected arrival of the two girls. After the frantic pace of the last days it was a comfort to just sit and talk, enjoying the time she had with an old friend. 

He listened with rapt attention, nodding and oohing and ahhing at the correct moments as he should. She was taken aback by the strength of his hug when she had emerged from her bedchamber with Solas that morning. He had clearly worried for her and it made her smile fiercely that she should have such a dear friend. 

“And then on the way back-” She began, looking up as Solas entered through the door from the courtyard, a tray balanced on one hand. He set it down on the central table, pressing a gentle kiss to the forehead of Mariel and Turiel as they slumbered. Then he approached Ellana, pulling her in for a gentle kiss, his lips moving into a smile. 

“Would you mind if I joined you? I have some reading to do but I’d like to be nearby.” Solas motioned to the adjacent chair as Ellana and Dorian both nodded.

“Of course, vhenan , please do. Ma serranas for the tea.” She replied quickly, moving to pour herself a cup of the strong brew. She added a good spoon of honey, stirring gently before she took a sip. 

“Tea!” Dorian exclaimed, rounding on the both of them. “You hate tea, I’ve had to listen to you wax lyrical about the ‘foul stuff’ more times than I can remember Solas.” 

Solas just laughed, taking a sip from his own cup before pulling a heavy tome up to cover his face. He was quickly engrossed, beginning to take notes in a leather-bound notebook in a precise hand. The book, Ellana noticed, had no title and appeared to be more of a journal than a published work. She resolved to ask him about later, when they had a quiet moment. 

“Anyway, as I was saying, on the way back we had to travel our original route in reverse. We came to the temple of Elgar’nan, and there was this being there - a fragment or an imprint of a spirit - and it was dicey for a moment. I believe we only got away because of them.” She reached out to gently rock the bassinet, the two girls continuing to peacefully slumber, having already screamed down the Lighthouse twice this morning. 

“I was filled with this burst of energy, from them and from him,” She nodded as Solas, who smiled at her brightly over the top of his book. “And my own magic joined them, and then I held out my hand and just destroyed it. I wouldn’t have believed it if I didn’t see it with my own eyes.” 

She was looking down at the delicate golden gauntlet that made up her left hand, considering if it were coincidence she had used the hand that once held the Anchor. She was lost to her musings for a moment, turning her hand over, suddenly looking for any sign of the intense green that used to linger there. 

“Well, it would be just like the lot of you to find trouble, wouldn’t it?” Dorian smirked, pulling her from her reverie. She chuckled, a comfortable silence falling between them for a moment as they sipped their tea. 

“Oh, I almost forgot. I did bring something with me, I intended to give it to Solas for safekeeping in case I missed their arrival, but fortunately I seem to have come here at the perfect time.” Dorian said, moving to pull something from his pack lying at his feet. He rummaged around for a moment, pulling a small black box out which he handed to Ellana. Solas looked up curiously at that point, as Ellana took the box from him. 

“They won’t be able to use them for a while, but I thought it a fitting gift for two young girls.” Dorian said fondly, with an edge of satisfaction. 

Ellana opened the box to find two exquisite hair combs, made in the ancient elvhen style, in bright platinum with incredible mother-of-pearl filigree. She gasped low in her chest, a bright smile springing to her lips as she saw them. She knew they would look utterly gorgeous in her girl’s auburn hair, she could picture it clearly in her mind. 

“Thank you, Dorian. These are wonderful.” She gushed, hugging the box to her. Dorian’s lips twitched in a smile under his impeccable moustache, his eyes gleaming with joy as he looked on.

“You haven’t noticed the best part.” He said, motioning back to the combs. 

She took a closer look, lifting one comb to the light, and saw inlaid in the metal at the top was a tiny wolf head, six eyes gleaming with amber stones. She placed the box down gently then, and pulled Dorian into a fierce hug. Tears sprang to her eyes as Dorian was taken momentarily aback, letting her cling to him as he looked to Solas helplessly. 

“I could have told you that would cause such a reaction.” Solas shrugged, a small smile curling at the corner of his mouth. Then he frowned, and mouthed ‘hug her back, you fool.'

And so he did, patting her back as she let the tears fall. "There, there dear. Let it all out, it’s just a silly pair of combs, nothing to cry ab-”. He was interrupted as the air suddenly rushed out of his chest, Ellana having firmly smacked his shoulder. She continued smacking his shoulder as he protested, pulling away and clasping her hands together so she couldn’t continue her violence. 

“Horrid woman,” He remarked, “I give you a gift and you cry, and then I try to comfort you and you hit me. Remind me, why are we friends?” 

She sniffled, drawing herself up with a watery smile. “You’d miss my charming wit.” 

“You’re impossible.” He scoffed, brushing her hair back from her shoulder. 

Dorian left them early that afternoon, Ellana and Solas saying their goodbyes to him at the Vi’Revas before he stepped through and was away. She smiled wistfully, glad to see him but sad to know it would likely be many months before he would be able to visit again. His work as Archon kept his schedule full, and she knew Solas would not wish them to return to Minrathous, especially now as they still continued to struggle to eliminate the scourge of the Blight and the remaining Venatori presence. 

Solas and Ellana returned to the central chamber she was coming to think of as the lounge, curling up together on the overstuffed sofa. They kept the twins close, in the wicker bassinet on the table, as they huddled together. Solas returned to his reading, no longer taking notes but just flicking through the pages with one hand as he kept the other arm firmly around her shoulders. She had pulled something from the table, an envelope that was thick and tan coloured with no return address but her name on the front. She deftly sliced open one end, pulling the thick sheaf of parchment out with growing trepidation. She saw it was from her former second in command, Alec, a reply to her letter begging for information about the southern front. 

Dear Inquisitor, 

I was glad to receive your missive, your sudden departure left us fraught with worry for your safety. When the news was finally received from up north that the Evanuris were defeated, I could only hope that you survived both the journey and the fight following it. 

After the last Archdemon fell there was some relief here, not a great turning of the tide or a falling back of the darkspawn horde but a change amongst them. The unceasing, fervent vigour they fought with before was gone, replaced with an almost confused reluctance to continue what they began. Where before they fought relentlessly even while staggered, bleeding black and full of arrows now they turned and ran. Almost unthinkable to imagine the darkspawn retreating, but they did, and we made sure to harry them all the way. 

We have retaken Denerim and Redcliffe, with heavy losses, but both cities stand again. The last remaining Grey Wardens have remained stalwart to the fight, leading the soldiers in punishing and clever tactics. We will continue until we push the darkspawn back where they came from, or destroy them utterly in the process. It will be a long journey, hard-won and fought bitterly, as these things always are.

It was a pleasure working with you.

I wish you all the luck I can, and hope you do the same for me.

Yours sincerely,

Commander Alec Visland

She laid the letter on the table, breathing deeply as she considered its contents. She was glad to hear all was not lost in the South, the situation seemingly still dire but hope seemed to shine there too. With the last Archdemon gone and nothing to lead the Blight she was hopeful the ranks of darkspawn would falter, and she was glad to be proven correct. 

“Good news, ma’las?” Solas asked softly, looking down at her next to him as he closed his book. She snuggled up against him, nodding her head.

“Yes, as good as can be expected in any case. Denerim and Redcliffe back in the right hands, and the darkspawn horde being dismantled slowly.” 

He brushed her hair down her back with one hand as he turned, pulling her to him for a gentle kiss. He broke away, resting his forehead against hers a long moment. Rook chose that moment to enter, followed by Emmrich close behind.

“Still haven’t gotten a room, huh?” Rook said dryly, not waiting for an answer. She threw herself down in a chair opposite them. 

“We were in a room.” Solas almost growled, not pulling away from Ellana. She could feel his frown pulling his brows down even with her eyes closed. She smiled to herself, wondering when these two would finally get along, always fighting like siblings. 

Almost as if on queue Mariel began to cry, a steady wail that sent Rook’s face into a grimace. Ellana had to smile then at the younger woman, it seemed this was not her forte. She leaned forward to take the squalling creature into her arms but Solas reached her first, lifting her delicately and bringing her back to lean against his chest. 

He leaned back, humming softly, Ellana recognising the tune as the lullaby he had written just for them. Mariel quieted quickly, her grey eyes watching his face with an intense interest. Ellana watched him reach out and trace a gentle fingertip across her forehead and down her nose, and smiled delightedly. 

She noticed Rook watching, her eyes moving between Ellana, Solas and the baby. She was frowning, as if the scene didn’t make sense in her mind, unable to resolve the difference between her perception of the trickster she knew and the current reality. 

“You don’t have to stare, you know.” Solas muttered, his eyes flicking to Rook. She looked away then, rolling her eyes as her usual demeanour came back. 

Turiel started to grumble then, separated from her sister, and so Solas gently placed Mariel back in the bassinet next to her. He stopped to look over them a short moment, before he settled back on the sofa, pulling Ellana to him suddenly. He pressed a bunch of noisy kisses to her neck as she laughed delightedly, trying to pull away from him. 

“Yep, that’s my cue to leave.” Came Rook’s voice, the sound of her footsteps retreating as she moved toward the Meditation Room. 

“Finally, I have you all to myself.” Solas murmured, pressing his lips firmly to hers. She snuggled into his embrace, returning his kiss with equal fervour, feeling warm and safe and loved.

The inhabitants of the Lighthouse settled into a simple routine over the next few months, though they found themselves continually surprised by the two young spirits in their midst who delighted and challenged them in equal measure. Rook and Emmrich were back and forth, splitting their time between the Lighthouse, the Mourn Watch and the various Veil Jumper camps spread across Arlathan forest. They had been researching, according to Emmrich, and their time away was critical to their mission to take care of the Blight. The pair had become resolute in their commitment to see this through, despite knowing it would likely be a project spanning many years. 

Solas and Ellana found themselves still waking together several times a night, his dedication never wavering as he helped her tend to their babies in the grey twilight of their evenings in the Fade. They found help from a likely source, two spirits of Compassion who offered support in different ways. 

The Caretaker surprised them with missives from friends and special provisions they yearned for but had no time to take trips to retrieve.  She had even found a new statue in the courtyard of two young wolf pups playing in the mud, and suspected his particular brand of interference. The delighted smile on Solas’s face when he saw it was reward enough, Ellana thought, anything to see more of that would be a blessing. Cole was perhaps less surprising but even more heart-warming, as he took to the two tiny girls as a doting older brother would. He lingered by them often, seemingly silently conversing with them, his blue eyes wide under his blonde fringe and silly hat. 

One evening Solas and Ellana sat on the comfortable sofa in his library, the fire roaring, bathing the room in light and warmth. They had both been reading, but they had put aside the books long ago, content to just lay entwined on the sofa holding each other. The girls lay in their wicker bassinet, the silver wolf pelts below peaking out from under them. The two girls had grown strongly over the last months, and the bassinet would likely not hold the both of them much longer, but they liked to be close so the two of them being squished in together did not seem to bother them usually. 

Solas and Ellana both heard the two girls stirring, a strained cry coming from one then the other. Grisly tears began to fall but they both remained slumbering, and Ellana frowned, moving to pick them both up. She was interrupted by Cole, who was suddenly standing before them, his gaze intense and locked on the girls. 

“A shared nightmare they can’t wake from. They called for Compassion, pain burning hot but fear pulsing cold. I need to help them .” He finally drew his gaze to Ellana and then Solas, tears in his blue eyes as he pleaded with them. 

Solas didn’t hesitate, he jumped up, quickly moving toward the two girls. He picked both up carefully as they began to scream in earnest, eyes still screwed up closed, tiny hands waving in the air. He motioned for Cole to come close as he began to sing his lullaby in Elvhen, pushing the words and the feeling toward the pair of them as he willed for them to find their way home. 

Ellana watched breathless, tears begging to fall down her face as Cole placed a gentle fingertip to the forehead of each girl. He and Solas took a deep breath at the same time and then slowly released it, and Ellana felt the feelings of calm emanate from both of them. The girls stilled then, returning to a peaceful slumber. Solas hugged the two girls close to his chest, and then pulled Cole into a one-armed hug with his free hand. Ellana went to join them, an odd five-way embrace that none of them wanted to end. 

“You are truly the best of us, Cole.” Solas whispered. “I am so dearly sorry for the way I have treated you. I never should have pushed you away or made you forget or used compulsion on you. I refused to let you act in accordance with your nature, knowing you only wanted to help me. Can you forgive me, my friend?” He pleaded, his eyes wide with unshed tears. 

“Yes.” Cole said simply, a serene smile on his face as it often was. 

Ellana just smiled at both of them, her heart filled with hope and joy for her family in her arms. 

After the remnants of their evening meal had been cleared away, and the girls put to bed for the evening Solas and Ellana retired to their bedchamber to enjoy some blissful solitude together. As soon as they closed the door to the adjoining room, Solas moved his hands to her hips, pulling her to him suddenly. 

Her breath caught in her chest at his playful smirk, and she weaved her hands around his neck to pull him firmly down to her as she stood on the tips of her toes. He pressed his lips hungrily to hers, moving to crush her against him, his fingers gripping the flesh of her hips. He deepened the kiss, moving one hand behind her neck to tilt her head back, pulling her lower lip into his mouth. 

She sighed against him, pushing her tongue into his mouth as she felt an urgency creep into her chest and heat pool in her belly. They had not kissed like this, not been together and this intimate, since their time in the grove. He had waited so patiently for her, not wanting to rush her but that time was up. She needed him, a desperate longing after three months without his attentions. She idly wondered how she had managed their ten year separation, but she had not known the exquisite feel of his touch then. She had nothing to miss, only her fantasies, but she knew now the sound and the taste and the fill of him and she would not be denied this evening. 

She pushed her breasts against him, enjoying the moan that slipped from his mouth, before she quickly moved her hand between them to brush against his clothed length. He let out a ragged gasp, pulling back from her, his eyes dark with desire. 

“We should take this slow, my heart. We have all the time in the world, we do not need to rush.” He murmured, his voice husky with need, trying to convince the both of them.

“I want to rush, vhenan.” She replied smirking, echoing his words from the first time they laid together, here in the Lighthouse. She moved to kiss him again but he reached out to grasp both of her forearms in a strong grip, holding her tight. 

She paused, looking up to him as he took several deep breaths. His eyes were still dark, and she could feel he was fighting with that primal part of him he tried to keep hidden away. She silently begged for it, trying to manoeuvre enough to brush herself against him but he held firm. 

“I will have to insist, my heart. But don’t fret, I would never deny you completely.” He whispered, bringing his lips to barely brush against hers. She glared at him, huffing, desperate for what he wouldn’t give. She relented somewhat when he brought his lips to her neck, where it joined with her shoulder, gently sucking at the mark he had left there many months ago. He still didn’t let go of her arms, his warm hands still gripping them firmly as she moaned against him.

He finally moved his mouth back to hers then, crushing her to him, moving against her desperately as he lifted her in his arms. He lifted her legs around his waist as she circled her arms around his neck, clinging to him as they pressed together. Nose to nose, chest to chest, their tongues exploring each other a long moment before they broke away breathless. He took a short moment, seemingly deciding where he wanted to put her, before bringing his lips back to hers fiercely. He moved lazily toward the tub in the corner, his eyes flaring a bright blue as he wordlessly used his power to fill it with steaming water. He stopped before it, letting her legs down to the ground as he continued his bruising kiss, his hands now fisting into her long hair to pull her close. 

She moved both hands to his back under his tunic, letting them roam across the taut skin there, her nails dragging softly across him as he moaned into her mouth. Her hands came around the front then, between them, as she traced her fingertips softly against the skin of his belly and up to his chest. He moved his lips to the point of her ear, taking it into his mouth and biting down softly just to hear her needy whine as she was interrupted from her exploration. He shivered at the sounds she was making, his eyes flashing that dark violet, taking a moment to seemingly bring himself under control. She took advantage of his momentary pause to return her hand to his clothed length, feeling him hard and ready for her. He gasped again, roughly reaching down to grasp the hem of her long cotton dress, yanking it firmly over her head in one movement. 

He growled then low in his chest, as he found her bare, not having worn undergarments that day. He shook his head at her, a dark smirk finding his lips. He sent her a thought, across their bond, imbued with a tiny spark of pleasure. 

Tease 

The effect was immediate, and she tensed up and cried out as a wave of pleasure washed over her. It faded slowly, and she glowered at him before brushing her hand gently across the front of his leggings, her hand now imbued with magic. She had sent him a much larger spark, and he almost doubled over as the wave of pleasure hit him, screwing his eyes shut tight, groaning as he tried to hold back at the sudden peak he was drawn to. After a long moment he stilled, his eyes still wild when they came to find hers, a dusky pink blush across his cheeks and the tips of his ears. 

He grabbed her roughly, lifting her as if she weighed nothing, and dropped her unceremoniously into the tub. Water splashed over the floor and she pulled herself up bedraggled and glaring at him as he quickly removed the rest of his clothes. When he was finally nude, he stepped gracefully into the tub, seating himself behind her and pulling her close so she was between his legs. She leaned back against him comfortably as his hands moved to her neck, his fingers digging in to her flesh, working the tension from her as she moaned softly. She felt the shape of him, hard against her lower back, and she shifted against him, enjoying the soft groan from his lips. 

His hands began to move then in a mirror of each other, slowly caressing her collarbones, then moving to trace the curve of each breast. After tracing her with his fingertips a long moment he finally grasped a breast in each hand, kneading the soft flesh as both of them sighed at the contact. He brought his attention to her nipples then, rolling each between his finger and thumb, bringing them to tight peaks as he moved his mouth back to the junction between her neck and shoulder. 

She was moaning in earnest now, her plan for a hasty release lost under his deliberate attentions as he worshipped her body. A dull ache had formed in her core, and she was longed for him, desperate for him to touch her. Almost as if he heard her thoughts, one hand left her breast and began trailing softly down her sternum. He leaned forward to give himself a better angle as his arm moved over her, finally making its way into the water to the soft patch of hair at the join of her thighs. He didn’t wait for permission, knowing exactly where she wanted him, as he moved two fingers to trace along her slick folds. She let out a ragged gasp, pushing herself back against him, her arm reaching back behind his head to hold his neck for leverage. 

With his lips still moving against her neck he began to move his fingers, quickly slipping two fingers inside her soaking core as she moaned before him. She writhed in front of him, bucking her hips, trying desperately to get him deeper and moving. But he kept the almost torturous pace, curling his fingers slowly as he held her against him with his arm. She began a needy whine, wordlessly begging him to go faster, and finally he brought the attention she needed to her clit. He brushed small circles against it with his thumb, his two fingers not ceasing their slow movement as she moaned desperately for more. 

She could feel a peak slowly building, not a fierce crashing wave but a slow roll of high tide that would sweep in and wash away all thought. He coaxed her there, his lips moving to run across the sensitive long point of her ear as his hands began to move faster. One hand still rolling her nipple between finger and thumb, the other moving rapidly in her core against her most sensitive spots. He had fully enveloped her, both arms across her and both knees clutching her sides, her body cradled against him like there wasn’t anything else but him. His hair had slipped across her shoulder, his woody scent lingering in the air like a sweet perfume. He slipped a third finger inside her then, now moving frantically as he felt her shudder, a low keening whine coming from her lips. 

“Yes, wife. Come for me.” He murmured into her ear, biting down softly on the tip. 

She felt time slow, the tiny seconds expand into an age as the wave of pleasure finally crashed, throwing her into a swirling abyss. Every nerve ending was on fire, filled with a molten gold feeling that burned through her as he coaxed her pleasure from her. She was filled with nothing but him, his scent and the feel of his hands and his breath on her skin. He whispered praises in her ears in elvhen, bringing her down from her high, his hands and lips still working her gently. When she shivered and leaned back against him he slowly stopped, pulling his fingers slowly from her, returning them to hold her tight around the belly as he leaned his chin on her shoulder. 

She took a long moment, catching her breath before she pulled herself away, slowly moving around so they were face to face. He was leaning back against the rim, with her kneeling between his legs just as they had the first time they had used this tub together. Their first night here in the Lighthouse, the first time they had ever been naked together, when she had nervously climbed in with him despite her heart threatening to crash out of her chest. 

She remembered pushing herself against his chest, feeling his hardened length against her belly for the first time. She remembered the thrill of knowing, finally, that he needed her as desperately as she needed him. She saw him there now, his eyes dark under heavy brows and a delightful pink flush across his chest and face, and remembered what she wanted to do that night, before he had pulled away. 

She moved forward, climbing into his lap quickly as he blinked in surprise before she brought her lips down to crush against his. He moaned against her mouth, pulling her close to crush her breasts against his chest. She managed to snake an arm between them into the water, taking hold of his throbbing shaft, pressing it against her soaking core. She pushed down on him slowly, the air rushing from him in a ragged breath as he broke the kiss. He pulled her slowly down until he was firmly seated then held her firmly there for a moment while he stilled, catching his breath. She looked down to see his eyes closed, the lashes lying heavily across his pink cheeks, the freckles across his nose plainly visible from this close. She traced his silver vallaslin, her mark on his face and then brought her lips gently to his forehead. He shifted as she moved, and he let out a ragged moan, his eyes snapping open to find hers. 

“Take what you need from me, wife.” He whispered, moving one hand into her hair to pull hair into a bruising kiss.  She started moving about him, rocking her hips against him gently as she found a proper rhythm. He started moaning into her mouth, the hand in her hair clenching her tightly as the one against her back pulled her close. She knew neither of them would last long like this and she increased her pace, riding him quickly with her hands gripping both of his shoulders.

He watched her, taking what she needed of him, his mouth open and his eyes wide and reverent as she moved above him. The water was splashing all over the floor but neither of them cared, caught up in each other as if there was nothing else. His movements took on a desperate edge as he began to buck his hips, pulling her to meet him as he thrust into her now, his arms coming under hers and up behind her to grasp her shoulders for leverage. They both moved frantically, gasping as they pushed each other to a peak. 

“Together, ma’las.” He begged, his voice a strained moan. 

The feeling overwhelmed the both of them then, and she clenched around him as another wave of pleasure took her. He continued to plunge into her frantically, flooding her with his spend as he clung to her, groaning. He relaxed back then, not letting his grip on her lessen but sinking lower into the tub until they were submerged to their necks.

They stayed locked together a long while as their ragged breathing came under control, their hearts no longer threatening to burst out of their chest. She leaned up just enough for him to slip out, then settled again, staying on his lap and in his embrace a long while. She rested her head against his shoulder, a smile on her face and his, as she leaned down to kiss him on the forehead. 

When the water threatened to turn cold for the fourth time he gathered her to him and stood, drying them off with a wave of his hand before moving over to the bed. He put her softly on the covers and she climbed in, rolling quickly onto her side. He slipped in behind her, bringing his lips to kiss the soft spot behind her ear as he pulled her close with one protective arm around her belly. They found sleep quickly, safe and together, the Dreadwolf and his heart. 

A new mural came to be, over the next months, in the Lighthouse in their little pocket of the Fade. An enormous, elaborate fresco which covered almost every wall of the main central chamber of the Lighthouse except the space just above the courtyard doorway. 

Every mural which had been a memory of regret was gone, replaced by more and more images daubed in fresh paint. Put there by a steady, talented hand imbued with all the love and hope and devotion and pride he possessed. Images of her, breath-taking in their depiction of her fierceness and her beauty. Images of them, together basking in their love and devotion to each other. And the final image, taking up an entire wall, an image of the future they would share. 

An exquisite mural in the classic ancient elvhen style, the background a shimmering silver eluvian, the Vi’Revas, standing tall and active. A glimpse of the world beyond could be seen, a great verdant forest awaiting them. Before stood four figures preparing to step through, their backs to the viewer.

The man was tall, broad-shouldered and wearing simple green leggings and a white tunic, his feet left bare. His left hand firmly clasped the hand of a much shorter woman next to him, wearing a white dress in the same style as his tunic, a talisman around her neck and her white hair flowing straight down to her waist. She had a delicate golden gauntlet for a hand, and her face was tilted to look up at his as he looked down at her with reverence. 

Each of the adults clasped the hand of a young girl on either side, dressed identically and just like their mother. Their auburn hair was wild and long against their backs, pushed back from their face by a delicate jewelled comb. Their gaze was locked firmly forward, to the promise of adventure and excitement beyond. There was a golden shimmer of magic that seemed to swirl around them, a protective shroud, which would keep them all warm and safe and loved.