Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Chapter One

SULE'DIN LA'V'EL'LAN

I sat in a crisscross on a cushion in the centre of where the Well of Sorrows had once been. It helped me and hurt me to sit there. Helped in the way that I could learn so much more about all the Elves and El'vhen that had given themselves to the Well. And even before Ar'lath'an fell… there’d been millions.

I’d learned to be mostly fluent in old El'vhen for instance. Learned how to craft and use a prosthetic arm out of my magic or any other material I could lay hands, hah, hand on. I’d learned so many things.

And it hurt… because I couldn’t keep from searching for ways that might have made the outcome of everything in the Inquisition different. But mostly… how I might not have lost Solas. Eight bloody years and a solid, happy relationship in my life and I still couldn’t forget that fucking purple-eyed elf.

It might’ve helped if the bastard would stop haunting my dreams. Prowling around the edges of my Fade sanctuary. And though I’d never caught any of his agents… I had a feeling he kept a watch on me in the physical world, too. I snorted softly, breaking my trance. I bet those agents had had some awkward things to report to Solas. How had he taken it? Did it really matter? He’d made it clear he didn’t want me with him.

Another thing the spirits of the vir'abel'as'an had taught me had been how to enter and leave the Fade safely. How to build a place for myself out of dreams and magic on that side of the veil. I had so much knowledge at my fingertips. And sometimes… like that day, after the letter I’d received from my baby sib… it tempted me to just let myself fall into it. To never come back out. It was always a danger in swimming through the knowledge and memories of the Well. That I wouldn’t return.

I’d tried to stop Solas more than once. Tried to appeal to a loving nature I… wasn’t always sure he actually had. Varric and that annoying Lace Harding had tried, too. I didn’t think my sib would have any better luck. I'd stopped trying when I'd learned the reason behind why the veil had to come down.

I lifted my gaze to the sweetly scented flowering vines growing along the smoothed yet still natural rock walls in the wide, round room. Every shade imaginable glistened with magical dew. Some glimmered with magic, some glowed, made of magic entire. The things the ancient El'vhen had been capable of had been truly mind bending.

I’d turned this room into a combination of study and meditation chamber. Like Leliana had promised, all the el'u'vi'ans were fixed. My gaze dropped to fall on bunches of tiny flowers, like lilacs, that grew all around my desk. The exact same shade as Solas’s eyes. Well. I guess I’d always been a masochist.

By the green. The first time I’d met Solas’s gaze on that snowy mountain top, I’d known with that uncanny sense I’d always had that he would hide things from me. I’d still pursued him. Still allowed myself to fall for him. I hadn’t meant to. At first, it had just been loneliness that had driven me to seek out the only other Elf in the inner circle. Then my fascination with his stories and different opinions drew me back.

He’d healed my body, fought to defend me, our friends, and the Inquisition, shed his blood, and as I’d affirmed in the Well… he’d even given us his home. Tar’a’syl’an Te’las. The place where the sky was held back. Skyhold. Where he’d cast the Veil that slowly bled the life and magic out of Thedas. He’d offered so much to the Inquisition. To me.

I’d fallen into the same trap everyone else had. Believing he was as loyal as we’d all assumed and needed him to be. I wanted to kick myself sometimes for never demanding the inner circle swear loyalty like I had for the new recruits. But that was water under the bridge. I wouldn’t be fooled again.

Though to be fair, even as angry as he’d made me, I had to admit that other than that ridiculously silly time at Halam’sh’ir’a’l, the Winter Palace, when he’d lied about having had experience of royal courts—the el'vhen was an absolutely terrible liar—he hadn’t ever truly lied. And he’d stayed until we’d sealed the hole in the sky and defeated Coryphyfish. So had never been a traitor to our cause.

He was far too experienced at deflection and talking around whatever he didn’t want to admit to. But the way he’d hurt me had been far more devastating than anything anyone else could ever have done to me then.

I’d just… believed. Without any proof. Believed we’d patch things up. Believed we’d find a way to be together. That’s what you did when you loved someone, right? You tried to be with them? Not if your name was Solas, it wasn’t. ‘I want you to know that what we had was real.’

Fucking asshole. Banal'vhen'an. How dare he say that to me after ripping my heart to shreds and dancing on it. Was it Solas? Hardly. Real is someone I can touch, hold, and be with.

But when he’d loosened up, when we were alone together, he’d had far too much charm for my good sense. Somehow, I’d let myself trust him. I hadn’t really even known him. What an idiot I’d been!

'You’d think I’d have learned. Wouldn’t you?' Even with the excuse of him haunting my dreams last night. I shouldn’t be putting this much emotional energy into that dickshit’s basket.

‘You did. You are. You will.’ The whispers from the Well rippled through my mind, incredibly strongly. So much stronger than they had been at first. Eight years ago, I’d had to strain to hear them, and it had exhausted me very quickly. Now… sometimes someone had to come get me to make sure I moved and did things like ate, and drank, and talked with people other than long dead El'vhen.

Giving up on the meditation for the evening I sighed and relaxed my posture. I’d gotten so much better at listening to the knowledge of the Well over the past years of my internment.

‘Now now… it’s not a prison. Nor a retirement. We have some few El'u'vi'ans now. Dorian and Merrill figured them out for us. You can come to Skyhold or Orlais or Tevinter at a thought.’ Leliana’s—Dame Victoria’s—voice slipped through my mind like hunting shadows or blood trailing across a tiled floor.

"Hmph." I grunted then shimmied my shoulders to get some feeling back into my… well… everything. The meditations worked. Each time I came back with more knowledge and more ability to tap the Well at will. But I also always came back to a nigh numb body.

I sighed. No matter how many years passed. No matter that I’d supposedly moved on. It ached. It burned in my heart like a stuck fishhook. Love. What a horrible and wonderful thing.

But all of my learning… it amounted to nothing, of course. Not for the things I wanted to heal most. I’d been the lonely, confused fool who had sought out the only other Elf in the inner circle. Time and time again. I’d been the fool who had listened and talked with Solas into the wee hours of the night far too many times. Him with cocoa and the frilly cakes he so loved and me with tea and cookies. His magic and entrancing voice often tracing tales of whimsy and wonder for my tired, war-weary eyes.

It had been me who’d watched the way he painted in awe. Me who had leaned my head back against his shoulder on the times he’d offered to teach me. Offering far more than I should’ve, although he’d never taken me up on it.

It had been me who’d followed Solas, tracking whoever had left the trail of clues and dead Qunari through the Winter Palace to the Crossroads and beyond.

It had been me who’d longingly whispered his name when he’d been about to go through the el'u'vi'an. Dressed like a prince of Ar'lath'an. It had been my gaze that had met his beautiful colour-changing purple eyes when he’d turned. And after we’d talked, it had been me driven to my knees in absolute agony as the power of the mark had grown excruciating again. Ready to explode.

It had been me who’d begged for him to let me join him. Me who’d leaned desperately into the kiss as his magic had cooled the fire and taken the mark… and my arm. I would’ve sacrificed far more than my arm to have had him take me with him through the mirror. To have him believe my words. Var Lath Vir Sule'din. Our love can find a way to endure until death. To have him trust us… me… our love… enough to listen to me.

It had been me who’d been fool enough to fall in love with him. It had been me who’d asked him… asked him! To take my vallas'lin.

My first visit home to Clan La'v'el'lan after that had gone swimmingly. My mother, the Keeper, had cried when she’d seen all the painstaking labour and hours of agony we’d both put into them gone. Hers the agony of a mother hurting her beloved child meant to follow in her footsteps. Mine the agony of the ritualistic tapping of them into my skin. I’d probably still make the same decision.

The idea of having what had amounted to a slave brand inked into my face had made my skin want to crawl off my body. But the results had still had to be dealt with. Over the course of my month-long visit home, before I’d found my way here… I’d spent time with Mamae, and we’d talked about everything I’d learned. Who I’d become and where I’d go from there. The mark and my time as Inquisitor had made me both unsuitable and unwilling to be Keeper of our Clan. No matter all the many years of training we’d both gone through to prepare me for it. My twin would take up that responsibility in my place.

Because even my own clan had treated me with wariness. All but my baby sib. Who had only just had their own vallas'lin inked. They’d had them done while I was there. My baby sib, who had always been far too reckless for their own good, and hunted with the history seekers trying to find relics and information on our past. Or at least, they had in their youth. Who had a few too many dealings with a shadowy guild called the Lords of Fortune for my particular taste. But… they were an adult. They had every right to make their own mistakes. And to bear the scars of them. At twenty-seven to my forty they wouldn’t have listened to me either. Humping hallas. I wouldn’t have listened to me if I’d been them. They and Varric were utterly convinced they needed to stop Solas from taking the veil down. When that was the opposite of what needed to happen. But try telling a headstrong twenty-seven-year-old and an incredibly stubborn dwarf that.

Mamae had nicknamed them Rook and they took after that thieving bird so much. Absolutely nothing shiny was safe around Rook. I blamed Varric for that. My crusty dwarf friend had handed over the running of Kirkwall to Aveline and gone adventuring again. Both for the hell of it but frequently to try to track where Solas had gone. Often dragging my sib along. And, of course, they'd met in a bar fight. That was just my sib all over. Varric too, for that matter. Varric and Rook visited when they could, but I didn’t have the heart to leave my once confinement turned sanctuary.

Solas had been right. I wasn’t any different than him now. The names they called me for saving the entire fucking world had made me retreat completely from the dregs of the disbanded Inquisition. I kept in contact through several neat gadgets my beloved friend Dorian kept sending to me. But I wasn’t as much of a part of it, anymore. I was too recognizable. Too feared. Too hated. Too loved. I’d been more use here. Searching through the eons of memory and feeling that the vir'abel'as'an held. All the knowledge it could teach me.

The Temple of Mythal had called to me like a siren song. The Well had been housed there for so long that it had been like coming home to a place I’d never been. Even though I had visited once. To my surprise, Abel'as and several of his El'vhen Sentinels had still lived there and were in the process of restoring it to its former glory. They’d welcomed me like a divine being. And continued to treat me that way even eight years later. Mostly. The corner of my mouth lifted at how exactly un-holy he’d been a couple nights ago.

Watching them use their magic to shift shattered blocks and gently coax twisted trees into shapes that were beautiful yet didn’t block foot traffic had amazed me at first. To be honest… it still amazed me. So did he. Eight years later Abel'as had found a new name. As had I.

Abel'as: sorrow, had become Sulahn’nehn: rejoice, joy, sing again. And he did. Whenever he worked. Whenever he used his magic to create rather than destroy.

Me? I’d chosen Sule'din: finding strength in enduring loss or pain until death. Every time Sulahn’nehn used it, his amazing golden eyes spoke of the deep understanding of needing to wear a name like that. Though he did everything within his not inconsiderable power to bring me joy.

Even if Solas had always been less than translucent in his motives and words, I wasn’t. Since the bulk of the Inquisition had disbanded, I’d done everything in my power to return knowledge and ruins to our people. I’d somehow become something of a holy symbol to everyone in my time as Inquisitor. Even though I didn’t even believe in Andraste. I’d still become like a saint. At least… to those who didn’t utterly loathe me.

People of all races and nations made pilgrimages to the temple now to leave gifts for me. To seek my wisdom. What little there was of it. Josephine had helped me find a person willing to play the same role Josie had for me in Skyhold, so for the most part, I could ignore it all.

What I couldn’t ignore were the Elves and an occasional ancient El'vhen awakened from uth'en'e'r'a who came to see, to hear, and to know. The Well of Sorrows was as much theirs as mine. And if I showed favour to Elves and El'vhen over Humans, Dwarves, and Qunari… well… who could truly blame me? It’s not like I completely ignored the rest.

Through necessity and because I hadn’t wanted a human to have them, I’d gone against Solas’s desires to drown myself in the memories of the Well. I had become an elf who bore some of the oldest, strongest magic and memories of our people.

“Bel'lan'a'ris Ghil'an'a?” Sulahn’nehn entered the room and bowed deeply to me. As he always did. They’d started calling me what roughly translated to ‘Guide to Eternity’ or ‘Guide to Eternal Knowledge’ within days of my arrival. And I’d yet to break any of them of the formal title. His buttery voice trailed fingers down my spine, and I shivered. My nipples peaked hard and tight against the ancient, yet still perfect Ar'lath'an era gown I wore. It brushed my figure like silk and changed metallic colours with even the tiniest shift.

“Just Sule'din, ma vhen'an. An'eth'ara. How was your day?”

“Beautiful, Vhen'an. We cleared the river entrances, so the waters run clear blue and sparkling again.” His voice held joy and happiness.

I smiled. “No wonder you’re wet.” His leggings were wet up to the thigh and clung distractingly. On workdays, he didn’t wear his stunning golden Sentinel armour. I let my appreciation for him shine in my eyes and bit my lip. His slow smile made me shiver with remembered, sated desires. I swallowed and pulled my mind out of my pants.

Rook’s letter weighed heavily on my mind.

I knew, like Solas and Sulahn’nehn, everything that we as a people had lost. I understood the horrific cost the veil took on Thedas. And I understood it would likely take Solas’s life—or someone equally as powerful—to complete the spell to bring it down.

‘Cast in blood. Torn down in blood.’ I shivered at the words of one of the louder memory-beings.

Sulahn’nehn had brought many of the former Sentinels back as guardians. Of me. The temple. The fallen dawn-lotus petals in my private garden. I snorted softly in amusement while I tried to wiggle some life back into my toes.

They had a full compliment of El'vhen guards as well as a rotating group of vetted and trusted post Inquisition spies keeping me and the temple safe and undisturbed.

Sulahn’nehn’s voice had affected me even as Abel'as, the first time we’d met in the Temple of Mythal. When he’d been dead set on destroying the Well if it couldn’t be protected. When I’d been head over heels in love with Solas. I had yet to ask Sulahn’nehn if he’d recognized Solas back then. I didn’t really want to know.

How much changed in a few years. I used to want to know everything. I’d had so much fire in me when younger. Fire that sometimes felt like ashes these days.

I groaned when I tried to stand only to find my legs completely numb. Sulahn’nehn’s strong arm caught me and held me close to his muscular side as I gracelessly stomped my feet until I could stand on my own.

“Ma serannas, Sulahn’nehn.”

“You should rest.”

“I’ve been doing little but resting,” I replied sourly.

“And you’ve needed it.” He lifted a gentle hand to tuck an errant strand of hair behind my pointed ear. I shivered at the warmth of his skin against it. “Exploring your connection to the Well is trying work, mentally and physically.”

I gritted my teeth so I wouldn’t snap at him. I loved him. He didn’t deserve that type of behaviour from me. No matter how worried over Rook I was.

Even if I hadn’t loved him… Sulahn’nehn had helped me immeasurably since my exile. He didn’t need to shoulder my bad mood as well as my actual body.

I nodded my head, and he let me stand alone, arm still curved around my waist to catch me if I wobbled. I took a step away. The feel of his body against me and his scent of actinic magic, metal polish and steel, high summer days, and shadowy orchards stirred me in ways I didn’t want to follow up on right that second.

A part of me wanted to go after Rook. To pull them away from the search for Solas. But I couldn’t trust myself when it came to that el'vhen. With me… I’d probably just get in the way. No… it was best that I stayed here. The fact that I couldn’t trust myself, I’d proven quite well already. Even if every one of my friends assured me that they’d been fooled, too… I had known. Known Solas was deflecting every time he did it. He honestly was a terrible liar.

And I’d still fallen for him. Even still loved him despite the wonderful, supportive, and frankly, hot as fuck relationship Sulahn’nehn and I had built over the years. I still fucking loved that ridiculous purple-eyed elf. Who would probably kill himself and a lot of other people taking down the veil on the next full lunar eclipse. Two days away. And my sib would likely throw themself right in the middle.

Worse? I think Sulahn’nehn knew.

I stretched up and captured his soft, warm lips in a gentle kiss. He leaned into me with an approving purr, and I sighed. Pressing closer. Maybe I was actually in the mood after all.

Chapter Text

SULE'DIN 

We were a tangle of hands, lips, gasped responses, and passion as we made our not very discreet way to the Lady’s Chamber.

Sulahn’nehn shoved the heavy door closed with a deft foot. He lifted me slightly and pushed me against the wall to press all of his hardness to my softness. I moaned into his mouth. Luxuriating in his flavour of magic, the sweet clover taste of a high summer day, and the sultry flavour of an orchard rich with ripe cherries. My Sulahn’nehn.

His experienced hand slid up from my waist to cup my breast and I arched my back at the heat coursing through me like a wave. “Lahn,” I breathed. “Em'ma sal'in. I need you in me.”

His dark, knowing chuckle let me know he had no desire to hurry. “Poor thing. You’ll just have to wait.”

“Sadist.”

He pinched my nipple tightly and the burning-sweet pleasure pain raced from my breast to tighten my belly. He gently pressed his work and martial practice roughened hand against my throat to hold me in place. 

His other hand tightened around my soft flesh, gently hurting me in the exact way I loved. I gasped and arched my back while running my hands up to wrap around his neck. His velvety skin caressed my palms. Both the flesh one and the one I’d crafted from my magic.

 
He shivered from the tingles of my magic prosthesis and captured my mouth in a deep, hard kiss. We slid and twisted our tongues together and our heat rose between us like the tide.

The wet parts of his leggings had made my gown damp but I didn’t care. I pressed my hips up into him. Demanding. Needing.

He kissed me while smiling before pulling back to whisper against my lips, “So impatient.”

“Yes, yes. And I know that El'vhen often take days making love to each other. But there’s something to be said for a faster pace, too.”

He chuckled deep in his chest. That voice made me wet and ready. Swollen and needy. “Ma nuven'in. As you say.”

A startled eep left me as he tossed me over his shoulder and walked farther into our bedroom. He stood me next to the bed and his deft fingers found the laces on the sides of my gown. They left the flesh between the front and back panels of the dress bare. He slowly caressed me as he pulled them free.

 
I dragged his face back down to mine and kissed him with all the love and passion I had in my soul for him. I groaned when his palms brushed into my gown and hefted my breasts. The silk caressed my nipples and made me need. Impatient. I touched the shoulders of my gown. Removing the magic that fastened it together. The back fell to the floor but the front stayed where it was, pressed between us.

I slid my hands along his wide, strong shoulders and down his muscled arms. He was a bit taller than me and had to bend a little when we kissed like this. I giggled as I tugged at him and fell back onto the bed with him on top of me. I wrapped my legs around his hips and pulled him in close. Not even caring if my wet ruined this dress. Although it wouldn’t. El'vhen artisans had somehow woven magic into cloth and everything remained perfect and clean no matter what I did to it.

Lahn’s weight on me made me ache and I rubbed myself against his hard belly. My voice was breathless when I whispered against his sensitive ear, “You’re sure you want to go slow?”

He shuddered against me and claimed my mouth again as he slowly… still so fucking slowly! Stripped us bare. I acceded to the gentle torture of his teasing and ran my hands over every bared inch of his pale golden skin.

He brushed his palms over all of me. Pleasing me and arousing me. Worshipping me. He always made me feel so worshipped. So loved.

I slid my hands up to undo his braided, platinum blond hair and let it fall around us. It was so soft. Softer than down. And his eyes gleamed gold in the soft dusk of our rooms. The branch like tracings of Mythal’s vallas'lin still decorated his forehead and nose and I kissed every line before diving back onto his mouth. He groaned and pressed closer to me.

The glass doors were open, letting the humid air and scent of the profusely blooming forest into the room. 

He traced my jaw and throat with his firmly contoured lips. And kissed along the edges of my collarbones, his talented mouth pleased and teased me until I twisted with need.

“Lahn. You’re killing me.”

“You haven’t died yet,” he murmured against my breastbone before diving onto one nipple with his hot mouth and sucking it hard with a slight nip. I groaned and buried my hands into his hair to hold him close.

“I love you.”

“Ma vhen'an. When El'vhen love… it goes deep. And I love you more than any words could ever say,” he said as he switched to the other nipple. He had such strength he didn’t need to brace on his hands and he traced down my waist on both sides to grasp my hips tightly.

 
His skin almost burned against me, so deliciously hot, and he smelled so good that I couldn't stop myself from licking him. I slowly ran the tip of my tongue from behind his sensitive ear down his muscular throat and tasted his day’s labours on his skin. The faint hint of clean sweat, the rich, fecund scent of the forest, and the cool hints of water and stone.

I reached up to catch his nipple rings to play with, and smiled when it was his turn to gasp and press closer. By everything holy, I loved making him lose himself. He could be so stern and foreboding when he needed to be. But with me, like this, he melted. I adored it when he let me hear and see his pleasure.

Skin against skin I pulled him down on top of me and grabbed the tight cheeks of his ass to pull him against me. His cock hard and needy, I rubbed my wetness on him. “Fel'an'dar'is, Lahn. Why do you have to be so patient?”

He chuckled. “Good thing I am with you in my life.”

I gasped as he pressed against me right where I needed it most. “Oh, come now. I’m not that bad.”

“Mmm. Just a wee bit grumpy on occasion.”

I put a purr in my voice and twisted against him. Rubbing our bodies together. “If you’d let me, I’d make up for my grumpy mood.” I slid my wet against his hard cock and he groaned deep in his chest.

“Not yet, Vehn'an. Not yet. I want you writhing before you can have me.”

He rolled us so I rested on top of him and we were centred on the bed.

I kissed him deeply and caressed his beautiful face. “I’m blessed to have you in my life,” I whispered the words against his cheek then trailed kisses over his sharp jawline, down his throat, and over his wide chest. I took each nipple ring into my mouth one at a time. Running just the tip of my tongue through the curve and giving him a gentle tug. He arched into me and I lavished this beautiful el'vhen with my attention and love.

How had I gotten so lucky as to have him in my life and my bed? I didn’t believe in the gods as I’d done as a girl and younger elf but every time we were together like this, it felt like prayer. Something holy, and beautiful, and right.

I sat up so I could run my hands from his pecs to the chiselled lines on the upper part of his abdomen. His martial practice and joy of manual labour kept his body firmly sculpted and I enjoyed every touch. Every caress.

His eyes gleamed with love and passion as he rested his hands on my hips to trail slow fingers down my thighs and back up before he filled his palms with my ass cheeks. Pressing his hard cock up against me at the same time.

My head fell back and I gasped. “Are you going to torture me all night?”

He laughed. “Maybe. And you’ll let me.”

“I knooooow. But blessed flower stamens, Lahn. Please?”

He just shook his head where his bright hair gleamed against the dark silk of my pillows.

I slid down his legs to lick and suck at his cock. I tortured him now and his fingers buried in my hair. So much longer than I’d ever kept it before. I twirled my tongue around his head before sucking him in. I loosened the muscles in my throat and gently pressed down until he let out a harsh curse in the shape of my name. I loved what I could do to him like this. I teased and pleased him for a long time. Revelling in his cursing and the aching need making his cock buck in my mouth. In his rich, musky flavour on the back of my tongue.

“That’s it,” he muttered. Then sat up and tossed me onto my back. He nudged my knees apart with those hard shoulders and then groaned in deep enjoyment when he fastened his mouth over my clit. I cried out as a sudden rush of heat tightened my belly. He gently nipped me and that sent me up, up, up. 

Ecstasy ran in liquid waves from my shoulders, down over my back to my ass, up from my toes, and over my thighs to my clit before I exploded. He braced his hands on my knees to keep me spread wide as I bucked against his mouth and moaned obscenely. My pleasure made me clench and flutter around nothing, when I wanted to be clenched around him.

I bit my lip, although there were no secrets here. The sly smiles most of the Sentinels would wear later made me blush but I just didn’t care. I loved him too much.

He slid a slow flat tongue from the bottom to the top of me while I came down and at my gasp he did it again. He tortured me for a good long time. Until I lay in a sweat dewed puddle of pleased me.

I watched him with half lidded eyes as he prowled his way up my body. His gaze intense and fixed on mine. When he took my mouth, I could taste myself on him and it just sent me higher.

I spread my legs wide and gasped obscenely when the blunt head of him spread me apart. Pressing into me and stretching me perfectly.

“Hold still or I’ll stop,” he murmured against my mouth and I groaned in protest but did as instructed. Knowing full well he would stop if I moved.

 
I bit my lip and watched him lovingly. Transfixed by his gleaming eyes and how he tortured me with his slow pace. Easing into me just a bit. Then pulling back only to push just slightly deeper. I wanted to move, needed to wrap my legs around him and pull him into me hard and fast. But the joy on his face as he made love to me gave me the strength I needed to hold on.

My wet swollenness made my possession of him so easy. My passion slicked me everywhere and wet him as he pressed into me. I trembled as I held myself still. He kept our gazes locked as he slid deeper into me until we were joined as closely as we could be.

“Finally,” I breathed. Then wrapped my legs around him to pull him deeper. Settling him snugly inside me and seated deeply. I gasped and rotated my hips around him.

He slid a palm up my side to lace the fingers of our hands together. On our wrists, we wore El'vhen conception charms. He had a habit of holding my hand like this when we made love. It melted me from the inside out every time. That he wanted it as much as I did. We’d been trying for a while with no luck. But that just meant we could keep trying.

He pulled almost all the way out of me and plumbed deeply into me again. All thought left me, and a being a pure sensation remained.

We moved together as only two experienced lovers can, whispering small endearments in between moans and sighs.

“Ah. Lahn… fuck. I need.”

He increased his pace, thrusting harder and faster into me. Every time our bodies met, he pressed hard against my clit and built me up. Higher and higher.

“Come with me,” I murmured against his mouth and wrapped my arms around his neck to pull his weight down on top of my breasts. It changed the angle for both of us and we both groaned.

Warmth spread slowly from my clit up my belly and down to where I held him within me. It slid like slow fall honey all through my veins. Down to my toes and up to my nipples then back to clench me hard around him.

He swore at how I tightened and thrust harder and faster until he stiffened in my arms. His heat in me made me cry out and he pinched my nipple. It sent me flying over another precipice of ecstasy. The way he shuddered and fell apart in my arms made my heart ache with love.

We slowly drifted back to reality wrapped up in each other. I kept him close to me for a time. “I love how we feel together like this. After.”

He didn’t say anything, just murmured an agreement. He rarely talked after sex. I’d asked him why once and he’d said it was because he revelled in the moments of being with me like that.

Some time later, I lay on my side with my head on his shoulder. We’d cleaned up and cuddled together watching the almost full moon gleam down onto my private garden. Out in the jungle the cry of a successful hunting cat echoed.

“Two days,” he murmured.

“It’s bothering me, too. I got a letter from Rook today. It’s what put me into such a bad mood. I know the veil needs to come down. I know it in my bones. I learned about what it’s doing to the world in the Well. There’s a mage who specialized in theoretical magic in there that loves to talk. I just wish my sib and close friend would’ve listened to me and would stay out of it.”

Lahn grunted in agreement and watched the moon and the swirling streams of magic that always surrounded the temple for some time before he said, “It’ll kill him.”

My voice had gone hoarse. “I know.” Tears burned at my lids. I had no need to ask which him Lahn meant. He’d recognized Solas at least a bit those ten years ago. I didn’t know how well they knew each other or if it was just a nodding acquaintance. But they’d both had recognition in their eyes. “I know. But I can’t let myself care about it. It’s his choice.”

“Do you really feel he has one?”

I groaned and buried my head in Lahn’s shoulder. “No. Or at least. I think I knew Solas well enough to know he would feel like he had no choice.”

“I’ll take you and guard you if you want to be there. For whatever reason. To stop Rook and Varric. Or to stand by to honour the el'vhen you love while he sacrifices his life to save the world. Again.” Lahn’s voice held sadness and grief.

“Loved.” I muffled my words against Lahn’s skin. “Loved. Past tense.”

He just chuckled silently.

I lifted my head and gently poked his ribs. “What is so funny about such a dark subject?”

Lahn kissed my forehead. “Your insistence on lying to yourself. I sometimes forget how quickly younger El'vhen lie to themselves.”

“I’m not El'vhen. And I’m not in lo--

He lifted a hand and gently pressed his finger to my lips. “Do not compound a lie with another. You love Solas. You know you do. You know how to keep him away from your Fade sanctuary. You haven’t put any blocks in place.”

“I figured he’d just break through. He’s a master of the Fade.”

Lahn just tsked. “He would’ve respected any boundaries you put it place, which you also know. Just the same as you know that over the past half decade you’ve become far more El'vhen than Elf.”

“You don’t sound bothered by me being in love with someone else. Not that I am. Because I’m not.”

“You must have researched El'vhen culture. You know how relationships work between us. We don’t experience jealousy or possession of those we love. It’s considered anathema to us. Something not done.

 
“When we share ourselves with another for love, it’s exactly that, a gift, something to honour and treasure. Something to enjoy without negativity. With lives as long as ours, it would be pure foolishness to do otherwise.”

 
Lahn slid a slow, gentle hand down my back and gently squeezed me. “Love is like the ocean. Deep. Mysterious. It can rise and fall like a tide. It can be as vast and terrifying as a hurricane or as soft and welcoming as a warm northern cove of gently lapping, crystalline blue waves. It may last a season or a lifetime. Lovers might drift apart and return to one another many times over the course of a natural El'vhen existence. Multiple loves were quite common. Why should it bother me?”

I shook my head against Lahn. “I know. I did research it. I’ve learned a lot about the ancient past.”

He snorted. “Are you calling me old?”

I smiled and gently scraped my teeth along his shoulder. “Absolutely decrepit, Ha'rhen. I mean, look at you! Falling apart at the seams, really. You could give Xenon a run for his money.” I slid a loving hand down the perfect lines of my beloved. Then found the courage to ask the question I probably should’ve asked long ago.

“You knew Solas. Didn’t you? I could tell you recognized each other.”

“Mmm. That’s complicated. It took me several moments to recognize him in that guise. But yes. The El'vhen you know as Solas was known to me once. Closely.”

“How close?”

“We were long time lovers in Ar'lath'an. Despite the discrepancy in our stations. Which we were both well aware of. He didn’t look like that then. Not exactly. He was bound with the precursor to vallas'lin for one thing. But I recognized his spirit. He was my mother’s favourite enslaved servant.”

“Your mother’s…” I leaned up on my elbow to look down into Lahn’s eyes. He’d always avoided questions about his family.

“Are you saying your mother was—”

“An abusive witch? Yes.”

“Mythal? Like… the old-fashioned way of motherhood or the first born kind?”

The corner of his mouth lifted. “Old-fashioned. I’m second born… as the generations were counted. We don’t know who my father was, although it was one of the e'v'an'u'ris. Mythal… often wasn’t careful about those things. Ancient Ar'lath'an was matrilineal, so it didn’t matter. Why do you think my cadre and I were chosen to guard her holiest of places?”

“Chosen!” I snorted. “Imprisoned and trapped by it. Bound to it. From everything I’ve learned about her, she was horrible. Perhaps the best of the e'v'an'u'ris, but that doesn’t mean she was actually good.”

“Most of the e'v'an'u'ris were horrible. At one time or another. And some were mostly good, with some centuries-long bad moods to account for. Some were better than others. But that too was like the tide. Ebbing and flowing. An eternal existence is difficult in many ways. Which you’ll need to figure out how to deal with.”

I rolled my eyes. “I am not eternal. I’m just an elf. I was born in flesh forty years ago for pity’s sake.”

Lahn snuggled me close. Tracing lines over the tattoos I’d had done on my back. “You were born mortal. Yes. But the moment you drowned yourself in the Well you became as eternal as any of the oldest El'vhen.

 
"The Well was always spelled so that its knowledge could not be lost except on purpose. And only I was entrusted with the how. If you ever wish it… you could let it go back to its former form. And you would have the choice of giving your life to it or releasing it. You could become another spirit within it. I pray you do not make that choice, but I will support you in it if you ever do. And while you carry it… you’re as El'vhen as me. You’ve grown taller, more muscular, and your eyes have changed so they gleam like an El'vhen’s in certain lights.”

“And if Solas is successful, apparently we’ll all be magical and immortal.”

“The Elves, yes. The adjustment period is going to be harsh. I would not wish to be an enslaving Tevene Magister after the veil is down.”

“Tevinter might crash and burn. Dorian freed his enslaved servants as soon as he returned home. And has been working since, with little luck, to encourage the rest of Tevinter to do the same. He’s been helping Calpurnia, of all people! Aiding her and her Shadow Dragons to free and smuggle enslaved people out. I hope he’s taken precautions.”

“He’s a wise man. I’m sure he and Mae both have. Bull will likely be with Dorian when it happens. I cannot imagine him being elsewhere.”

I shuddered and Lahn pulled a light blanket up over us with his magic.

“I’ve been working with every contact I made while Inquisitor to get people aware and to prepare as much as possible. I just hope it’s enough.”

Lahn squeezed my waist gently. “Would you like to go to the ritual?”

“Want to? No. I want to stay in this bubble of peace and light we’ve formed here at the temple.” I traced designs on his chest for a few moments. “I… I’ll answer in the morning if that’s okay. I still have a day to decide. But I don’t think I can stay in safety while Rook throws themself into battle to stop something that needs to happen.”

“I’ll assemble my best to guard you.”

I snuggled closer. Unwilling to talk about the immediate future anymore. It made my heart hurt too much. Luckily, the meditation practice and delicious sex made it easy to slip into dreams… and the Fade.

Chapter Text

SULE'DIN 

I suppose I’d be called a somni'ar'i now. A dreamer. Apparently all El'vhen had had the gift of dream walking before the veil. Surprisingly, it hadn’t been a genetic fluke or anything. You just had to surrender and understand what might be happening. Then develop control. Some Elves were somni'ar'i, fumbling with their ability. Many had come to me for lessons. And in my bones, I understood Solas would’ve taught any among his agents. He'd always seemed happiest in sharing wisdom. Thanks to the knowledge of the Well, I’d never had to fumble.

I opened my dream eyes and stood from an exact duplicate of my and Lahn’s bed. I stretched. Somehow, my dream self always felt the same as my corporeal form. And unless I had to do something negative, like fight, I always woke in the physical realm feeling rested. In a lot of ways, it was like having two lives. I could always tell when I dreamed, though. I had both hands in my dreams.

The walls of my home there, my sanctuary, were dreamt of golden stone. Curved glass domes let light in everywhere. Soft carpets with a mixture of El'vhen and Dalish designs cushioned floors. With my imagination and my ability to draw magic to build it all, I’d made the home of my dreams. I walked past a nursery on my way out. It would happen, eventually.

The hall led to a mudroom. Before it got there, on one side a combination painting studio and study had brilliant shades of Fade light making patterns on the walls and floor. The other side held a workshop for making things for Lahn. Though he didn’t spend much time there. Restoring the temple took up a great deal of his time. It had been far larger than I'd ever imagined on my first visit. The studio… I’d dreamt Lahn’s workshop on purpose. But the studio so obviously made for Solas? I’d just given up trying to make it stop coming back. I had a great deal of control in the Fade, over my dreams. But some forlorn part of me still hoped and wanted for something that could never be.

The golden stone gleamed with magic, much like many of the old El'vhen ruins. But here, there weren’t any depictions of the e'v'an'u'ris. I knew, intimately, from the memories of people who’d lived with and around them how mercurial and frequently cruel they’d been. Like Lahn had said, some had been better than others. Hopefully, when the veil came down, if they ever escaped the Black City, some at least would’ve learned their lesson to not be assholes. Though I wasn’t going to hold my breath on that.

Hopefully, the prison Solas had created for them would hold, even with the veil down. A bunch of petty, spoiled, massively overpowered mages with God complexes weren’t something I wanted to deal with.

I wandered out to my garden. It was more difficult in the Fade, to actually grow things, but it was possible. I checked and no, it didn’t seem like Lahn and I would be welcoming a child any time soon. I could tell anything about myself with a thought here, or at least, anything about my physical form. My mind and emotions were as much a rat’s nest tangle as always. I climbed a curved, floating, opalescent glass staircase to my favourite perch. A sheltered stone alcove I’d lined with a mattress, blankets, and cushions to make it a comforting place to rest. I’d always enjoyed being high up. I could look out over my gardens, my fields, and the orchard from there.

Annoyed, I stood, picked up the top blanket and shook all the black fur off of it. That fucking wolf had been there again. Resting in my favourite spot. He both infuriated and saddened me. We hadn’t spoken in eight years. When his final words before stepping through an el'u'vi'an and out of my life had been, ‘I’ll never forget you’. As if that had helped!

Because no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t forget him either. And his constant almost presence around my awareness, my things, my everything… kept me from healing my broken heart. Yet, even if he had left me alone… I still wouldn’t have been able to. Sealed over the scar, perhaps, but healed? No. Not likely. Elves loved deeply, too.

I sat back down and dreamed a cup of tea into existence. It felt and tasted as perfect as it would in the physical realm. A plate of my favourite cookies appeared on the bedding near me.

Wisps, sprites, and other various small spirits flitted and played above the fields of barley. All flickering through colours and songs I knew to be communication, but one I hadn’t mastered yet. Long tube like air spirits drifted, twisted, and looped in the breezes. Some peacefully played hide and seek in the gargantuan blooms of some of my imagined trees. Far above, trailing wisps of starlit night behind them, floated a pod of fade-whales. Their low, eerie cries still spoke of home to me.

The whimsy of watching the gentle spirits play over my sanctuary lands pleased me. Water spirits cavorted in the wide, sparkling blue, lazily flowing stream that wound its way through the trees. Once the chaos died down, this would be similar to what the world would be like once the veil came down. A merging of the living and spirit worlds.

My gaze traced the unending, at least to my vision, rolling waves of golden barley beyond the high walls of my sanctuary. Dreams could turn to nightmares, and protection of what you valued held a great deal of wisdom in the realm of dreams. I snorted. By that logic. Solas still cared about me. I never came to my sanctuary without some sign that he’d been there. Either reinforcing my walls, or prowling around to ensure none of the unsavoury dream and spirit beings came close. Or sometimes, I found evidence of him sleeping where my scent was likely strongest. And on those times, I got the deepest sense of heartbreak and melancholy from the traces of himself he'd left behind.

Which, in a way, was almost cruel. He truly was a master of the Fade. He could hide his dream trace. There was no way he didn’t know how to when even I did. What right did he have to heartbreak, melancholy, and sadness about me?

He’d always made the choices. Excluding me from his life. ‘I walk the din’an sh’ir’a’l. There is only death on this journey. I would not have you see what I become.’ He’d always arrogantly made the decisions for both of us. Which wasn’t fair or right with another adult who had a mind and heart of her own. Especially when he called me ‘his love’ and 'his heart’.

With a sigh. I shook it off and leaned my head against the cool back wall of my alcove. Planted all throughout the area near my sanctuary were flowering trees. Some elaborately dreamed beauties, and some from the physical realm. Even some I’d never seen there outside of a book. I’d dreamed them here. Below, my large pleasure garden sent strong scents of flowers and herbs to me.

I’d never truly gardened before being cursed to become the Inquisitor. The Dalish were nomadic. The way we? they? They, I suppose. I hadn’t lived like my people did for well over a decade now. But the way they gardened was completely different from the settled way. They planted crops then left them. Returning in a different season for the harvest. A child would plant a tree and her great grandchildren would harvest the nuts that fell after she’d passed. They lived with nature, not trying to tame it.

But the Skyhold gardens had become one of my very favourite places. It calmed and soothed me to grow things. To see the tiny leaves poking out of rich soil. To coax the plants to grow healthy and strong, to tend the beds, weeding and turning soil. It had all helped me get through those two years of misery. As had Solas. Uuuugh.

Cole popped into existence next to me. My friend the compassion spirit. He looked almost the same as he had during the Inquisition years. Floppy hat included. "Pretty," he said.

Now... what he thought was pretty was as up to interpretation as always.

"He doesn't want to leave. Real people are real. It hurts to go. But he can't stay. So he goes and watches. Sometimes speaks. Dreams. Too many real people."

Cole never had been very helpful with keeping a straight line of thought. That 'he' could be anyone. And I refused to try to connect it all to Solas. Cole visited frequently enough that I'd just started hanging out quietly with him while he let his meandering thoughts out.

"Sharp and cold. Wet stone. Silver metal. Screams. Love and duty. Duty and love. Nae, Da'len. It won't hurt forever. He will find you." Then Cole did something he rarely did and hugged me. Using his compassion to sooth me. I didn't usually need it. I'd built a good life for myself. With a loving partner and a purpose that truly helped people. But right then... with Cole's words sending chills through me... I accepted the comfort.

I sipped tea and devoured my cookies. Offering some to Cole which he declined as usual. "Silly el'vhen. Spirits don't need food."

"They dream though."

"No. Spirits are dreams. And are not."

"Are you well?"

"Cats in front of a hole. Will cheese work? They wait for the door to open. Keyhole. A tiny keyhole may destroy the world. Small cats with big claws."

I shrugged. Trying to figure out Cole's meaning was just beyond anything I wanted to do just then. At least my cookies were far better than Sera’s. I missed the chaotic minx who'd hated everything Elven yet had still become my friend. She and Dagna had married not long after we’d all saved the world. I’d gotten word to them to make sure they informed anyone they could about the anti-demon charms and where people could get them from. The chantries, the mage’s colleges, the magisterium, the Ariqun and priests of the Qunari, the Shaperate of the dwarves, the Rivaini and Alamarri seers, the Dalish Ha'hren… We’d all tried to get them to everyone who would accept them. As well as telling the people we helped why. The peoples of Thedas were as prepared as me and my friends from the Inquisition years and our organizations could make them. I just hoped it would be enough.

Once I'd finished my snack I moved down into my garden. Cole followed me around a while. Telling me how the plants felt. Until I looked up and he'd gone. As usual, due to his own needs and whims.

There would be those who would refuse to take shelter. Those who refused to believe and wear the charms. But I couldn’t help anyone who denied it. The veil was coming down, whether anyone liked it or not. And it needed to or in a few hundred years, Thedas would have been absolutely bereft of both magic and life. I hummed while I weeded a garden bed full of Crystal Grace wrapped around bark covered branches for support. The pale blue, trumpet shaped flowers with magenta stamens sent a heavy, ethereal perfume into the air. They grew a lot in the Emerald Groves. I’d never spoken the hope, but when I passed, I wanted to rest among the vallas'dah'len. The huge trees covering honoured knights. Perhaps I could be considered worthy of the honour. Someday. I still had too much living to do.

A prickle of warning ran up my spine. Something extremely powerful and dangerous approached my wards. “Fucking shitballs. I just wanted some peace before I had to decide if I’m going after Rook or not.” I threw down my trowel to make a satisfying clanking sound and went to the outdoor stone sink to quickly wash my hands and arms. Silly, I suppose. I could’ve just dreamed it away. But I didn’t want to fight whatever it was dirty.

I went and stood on the moss walkway and waited. Then waited some more. Whatever it was must be huge, and incredibly powerful to set my wards off so early. A host of pride demons? It had happened more than once. I huffed and crossed my arms when I caught sight of the fire winged black form drawing nearer through the multicoloured, opalescent sky of this area of the Fade. Really? After eight years, he chose that day?

So just one absolute asshole of a pride demon.

Solas’s winged wolf form had more size than my entire sanctuary house. He shrank as he gyred to a landing in front of me. He sat, flicked his wings, and spirits fluttered happily away. A great black wolf with six eyes, two silver like the shade of a lightning bolt. Two pitch black, and the final two were the same shade of purple as his eyes in El'vhen form. He sat down, placed his paws just so, and waited. His head was on level with mine, and in some areas, he had black scales instead of fur.

According to the memories I had absolutely not watched at least a hundred times, he’d never had scales before.

I just sighed and waited. I guess he’d expected me to say something because he awkwardly shifted and curled his tail around. Then he bowed, front paws stretched in front of him like any canid’s. When he sat back up, he said, 'Greetings, Bel'lan'a'ris Ghi'lan'a. Apologies to disturb your tranquility.' His voice sounded in my head. Neat trick since I doubted even he could make a wolf speak El'vhen.

My heart ached at hearing his voice again after so long. I had to close my eyes for a moment and swallow to repress tears. He didn’t deserve that much of me. “What do you want me to say, Solas? Do you want me to run screaming because you’re in that form? I’ve seen it in the memories. I’ve seen probably far more than you’d ever want me to in the memories.”

'I simply came to extend a final farewell.' He dropped his gaze, from all six eyes, to the ground. 'Selfishness, I am quite well aware, ma vhen'an. Yet… I needed still, to see you and speak with you for a last moment before the... Mahri... it is jagged agony seeing your face anew.'

He left it unspoken that he wouldn't be able to come see me after because he'd be dead. “You’re right. It is selfish. ‘what we had was real’, ‘you’ll never forget me’. That didn’t give you permission to make absolutely certain that I couldn’t forget you!”

'I tried to stay withdrawn from you.'

“And did you try to keep your agents away? All the spying spirits? What do you want, Solas?”

'You.' The depth of raw longing in his voice almost melted my anger. Almost. 'I have always and forever wanted you, from the first moment you drew my thoughts with interesting questions and your open mind. You have always been someone who held more interest for me than the entire damned Fade. And we both understand... why that can never be. Beloved you have been with my whole heart and soul, Vhen'an. Every isolated day we have both endured.'

I growled, low and feral. His head shot up. “You don’t get to call me your love. You lost that privilege when you walked away from me, kneeling and newly armless, through a fucking magic mirror!” I started pacing. “This is the first time I’ve heard your voice or seen you in the flesh in eight years, Solas. I’m mortal. I’ll be gone in three of your eye-blinks.”

'My ritual has been planned to be successful.'

“Uuuugh. It’s always about the ritual with you.” I stopped pacing. “There are some I haven’t been able to convince about the veil. You’re still being hunted.”

'A pursuit I am well used to winning, Leth'al'lan. I appreciate you leading the people, and calling off the hunt for me wherever your influence has spread. I have not been blind to your work.'

He cracked my heart even further with every word. “Is there no other way?”

'I have discovered nothing else. Unless you have been able to learn anything different, this is the only way left, ma vhen'an. Began in blood. Torn down in blood. Halam'shiv'an'as. The sweet sacrifice of duty. Repairing my grandest failure is my duty.'

I shuddered as he echoed the words of the vir'abel'as'an spirits.

He looked down. 'If there were to have been an after for me, I would have tried to win your heart. Your forgiveness.'

“And Sulahn’nehn? Would you just expect me to fall back into your arms like the foolish twit I was a decade ago?”

'No, I… should not have spoken so. It was unwise. My fate is set.'

“Don’t you dare chicken out now. I’ve had far more than enough of that from you. You brought it up. If there were an after… what would you want?”

'A feathery barn fowl, I certainly am not, Leth'al'lan.' Then he sat silently for so long I figured he wouldn’t answer me. 'I do not wish to hurt you more than I have done, even this day. Yet, if I had had an after, I would have wanted something much as you have built. A home. A blesséd place of deepest peace. Consent to perhaps earn your love. Hope you might bless me to wholly trust me once more. El'vhen are not averse to many loves and group relationships. If you and Sulahn’nehn had agreed… well. This. I would have wanted this. With both of you. Eventually, perhaps, a family, if we were all so blessed.'

I just shook my head, took two steps and wrapped my arms around Solas’s furry neck. He held me close with a curled front foreleg and tucked his head down over my shoulder. "I wouldn’t have been that easy, leth'al'lin. But you could’ve tried. I wish with all my heart that you’d be able to try.”

'I would have given almost all things, ma vhen'an.'

“Stupid wolf.”

'You are one of two living people I let call me names, Vhen'an.'

“You deserve it. We could've had these years together." I swallowed against my burning eyes. "May wings of flame carry you home to peace, Vhen'an. Dar'eth sh’ir’a’l." Then I stepped back and away. I woke myself up with the cry of a mourning wolf echoing in my mind. Solas's howl of agony.

I found Sulahn’nehn holding my sobbing form.

“Solas?” he murmured.

“Stupid, infuriating, noble, idiotic wolf.” I sobbed each word around my breaking heart.

“So, yes. Solas. I’m certain I’ve called him that at least a dozen times. The epithets fit, sometimes. He visited me, as well.”

I just sat up, shuddering, to find a handkerchief to clean us both up with. “How can I both love and hate his exasperating furry arse?”

Sulahn’nehn chuckled. “Love and hate, ma vhen'an, are separated by a very slim line.”

“It would be so much easier if I could just hate him.”

“I’ve thought that myself a time or three as well. Love isn’t an easy path to walk. Unfortunately. The holes in the road can be quite perilous.”

“I just want things to be different. And there’s no way they can be. He told me he’d have liked a home, a family, with you and I. If he’d have had an after and we wanted it, too. And I will never get that image out of my head. Nor stop longing for it with all my heart.”

Sulahn’nehn pulled me back into his arms and hummed an old Dalish lullaby for me. He’d asked me to teach it to him even before we’d become lovers. Sleep flirted with shadows and nightmares for the rest of the night. I hadn’t had a nightmare in ten years. And I ached at knowing why.

Chapter Text

SULE’DIN 

Time never stopped its inexorible flow.

The day of Solas's ritual, I stood in my dressing room with my old fighting robes spread out on a table in front of me. Would they even still fit? I ran the tips of my non-magical hand over the curves and swirls of my old staff. Curling my fingers around the well-worn, metal-chased wood brought so many memories to the surface. Good and bad. I smiled a little and enjoyed a memory of Rook, then seven years old to my twenty, rubbing their tiny fingers over the wood as I polished it. Asking the never ending stream of questions that had always accompanied my baby sib. Many mages didn’t make their own staves, but I always had. I bonded more thoroughly with a staff I’d crafted myself than otherwise.

Sulahn’nehn came into the room behind me, already kitted out for battle in his golden Sentinel armour with his staff on his back, a sword on one hip, and a stilleto on the other. I looked back down. “It’s been so long I’m not even sure if they’ll fit anymore.” I gestured at my fighting gear.

“Would you be averse to wearing Sentinel gear? I've had a set crafted for you.” Despite the grimness of the day before us, Sulahn’nehn's deep voice, rumbling in his chest, and his precise, clipped diction sent shivers down my spine. 

“I’d be honoured,” I said, and went to loosely lace my arms around his waist. He looked down at me from under his embroidered hood.

“I am relieved, ma Vhen'an. There should not be trouble, but our armour will defend against anything except pure lyrium. I’d rather you safe than not. And no one uses pure lyrium for weapons anymore.”

I went on tiptoe to kiss him. “Do you know where we’re going? I’d rather not have to run through Minrathous after that ridiculous wolf. We’d be denounced as escaped slaves and then we’d have to murder idiot Tevene assholes.”

Sulahn’nehn’s eyes grew heavy with grief, and for a moment, he looked like the El'vhen I’d met. So unendingly sad he’d taken the word ‘sorrow’ as a name. “Solas… asked me to care for his remains. I know where the ritual will be.”

I braced my forehead on Lahn’s breastplate. “I don’t suppose there are many of you left.”

“And few he would ever trust with such a task. I burned the fool once. I wish I didn’t have to do it again.”

“After the veil first went up?”

Sulahn’nehn nodded. “Fel'as'san was with me then. But he’s gone now, too.”

“I can stay with you, if you would allow it. I’d honour Solas as well.” Tears burnt and I brushed them away. I didn’t know how I’d ever be strong enough to stand-by and watch as one of the El'vhen I loved—I’d given up denying it—sacrificed his life for the sake of a world who largely hated him.

For people who could never appreciate him for himself. His beautiful mind and sly wit. His awkwardness with people, his ridiculous sense of humour that only long dead historians might grasp. His hatred of tea and his sheer focus when painting or studying. The deep levels of caring he could show. Like when he'd played mental chess with Bull while we wandered the Hissing Wastes to help convince Bull that being Tal-Vashoth wouldn’t make him lose his intellect or ability to tell right from wrong.

Sometimes, I wished I did still believe in the gods, so I’d have someone to pray to or curse at. Sulahn’nehn guided me through sliding into the butter soft black cloth and leather that provided padding under armour. Then into the golden pieces. He studiously tightened every strap and buckle and made certain nothing pinched or impeded my movements. I’d always eschewed heavier armours. Sometimes my ability to dodge had been the only thing to save me. But this felt like wearing a slightly heavy suit or dress. The craftsmanship overwhelmed any I’d seen before. Even the soft leather gloves and the golden gauntlets that covered the backs of hands and forearms didn’t get in the way.

I thanked my partner with a loving kiss. He braced his forehead against mine. While neither of us expected anything to go wrong, we were both battle hardened enough to know that it very well could, despite the best planning.

We made our way to one of the el'u'vi'ans in the meditation chamber where six of his Sentinels waited. Sulahn’nehn held my hand as we stepped through. Then we jogged through the Crossroads to another el'u'vi'an. He led us all into it.

I slowed my pace a little once through the mirror. Bits and pieces of broken glass, pots, and branches showed areas where fighting had taken place. Rain poured down, and green magic swirled in the sky. My breath fogged and the sharp odor of crisped demon coated the backs of our tongues. The wet grass at my feet chilled my toes, but shoes were so uncomfortable to someone who hadn’t grown up wearing them that I’d long become used to being barefoot in all weather.

Solas’s ritual was well underway. But Rook and whoever they were with had taken care of any demons or other threats. We had nothing to fight, my Sentinels and I, as we raced closer. Probably a good thing. I hadn’t kept up on my training as well as I should’ve and I’d gotten winded a lot sooner than I’d reckoned on. Sulahn’nehn and the other six would’ve been more than enough for anything in Thedas, but I was glad we didn’t have to fight. I didn’t want to waste the time.

I bent to find Rook’s trail. Grateful they hadn’t taken up wearing shoes. I’d know their prints anywhere. Varric’s and probably my least favourite dwarf Lace’s sturdy bootprints were on the right, and a dainty heel on one foot with a flat print of striated metal and a point might’ve meant the detective. And if so, she might be a prosthetic user like me. That or she wore two different shoes. Tevinter fashions were elaborate and weird.

One of them was a mage from the melting ice anywhere there’d been a battle. Probably the detective. Both Varric and Lace were archers. If you could honestly call Varric’s Bianca a bow. Rook… had always had a fascination and quick ability with dual stilletos and a longbow.

The swirls in the sky grew faster and thicker. Solas’s ritual would come to a head soon. I sucked in a deep breath of magic tainted air and started jogging again. Holding a hand to the stitch in my side. Sentinel armour was ridiculously light and flexible. So much so it didn’t feel like I wore any. But I’d seen the metal stop any number of attacks, magical and physical. More El'vhen magic.

The rain picked up as we came to a dark grey stone ruin, and we slowed. Sulahn’nehn gestured silently several times and four of the Sentinels split off from our group to surround everyone.

A shattering crash sounded from above. Bits and pieces of what might’ve been Bianca came tumbling past and I had to hop over several as I ran up the stairs. The rain might’ve made most stone slick, but this was so worn and pitted I had no trouble keeping my balance. Sulahn’nehn came up right behind me.

At the top, Rook, Varric, and Solas fought in a tight cluster over a gleaming silvery blue dagger. The rain made everything slippery and coated all of the combatants with water. On a tower to one side stood Lace, drawing her bowstring to a heavily freckled cheek and with an arrow leveled at Solas’s heart. I’d liked the young dwarf while she'd served the Inquisition, but in the years since, she’d turned vicious, mean, unpleasant, and she absolutely hated Solas.

On another broken topped tower a pretty, dark-haired mage with soft, warm brown skin held her empty hands up while a Sentinel held a blade to her throat. To be absolutely sure, I tossed a stasis spell at both Lace and the mage. No need to take chances. This ritual was too important, and if they were with Rook, they were probably part of the Deniers. Those who couldn’t accept that the veil needed to come down. Unfortunately, those spells took so much energy and pulled on my magic constantly to keep them fuelled. I wouldn’t have much mage power until I released them.

Another crash sounded, dragging my gaze back to the battle in front of me. One of Varric’s boots had shoved a piece of what was, indeed, a shattered Bianca across the stone platform. Solas had his back to a stone altar engraved with sigils. Some had been filled with sparkling lyrium, while blood grooves ran to the others and down to the stone circle surrounded by statues of the e'va'n'u'ris. Ready to guide the liquid where needed. Solas’s blood.

Rook set their feet for a throw and the world slowed to a standstill. We’d wrestled in the ways of the Dalish all our lives until Mamae had sent me to the Conclave. The move Rook was about to pull would’ve likely worked on just about anyone else. Few people knew Dalish martial arts, and fewer still knew how to counter.

But I’d fought back to back and side by side with Solas, too. He was way too fast and way too experienced for Rook’s throw to work. In my mind’s eye, I could even see the counter Solas would likely use. And it ended, like the long trained and blooded warrior he was, with that silver blade in my baby sib’s heart. Even if he’d wanted to pull it, his reflexes, long adapted to war and fighting for his life, would likely bury the blade deep before he could even think.

When in a battle state, few warriors could easily pull a blow, I’d seen both Solas and most of the Sentinels do it. Even Cullen, Cassandra, Leliana, Blackwall, and Bull could do it, but they were all highly trained, experienced warriors. They’d twist like a cat to get their blow aimed away.

Twenty-seven-year old Rook didn’t have a patch on that kind of experience. They were good, but not that good.

And would Solas even bother to try? He had no reason to. He’d never killed without cause that I’d seen, but he had plenty of cause from his perspective. He’d been hunted for eight years like the worst sort of criminal, while designing the ritual and acquiring the materials that would save the world. Solas had given up everything to be where he was at that moment. Repairing the damage to the world by taking down the veil he’d cast so long ago.

Though Rook and I had the same parents and looked extremely similar, Solas probably wouldn’t recognize them as my relation. Not on a dark, rainy night in a pitched battle. I couldn’t even remember if I’d ever told him I had siblings.

Half stepping into the Fade to give me more time, I yanked Sulahn’nehn’s head down. I flickered solid long enough to tightly press my lips against his rain-wet ones. “I’ll always love you.”

His eyes widened under his embroidered hood, and he reached to stop me, but I'd already gone untouchable again.

I tore my gaze from the anguished eyes of my beloved. Barely hearing his urgent warning. “It’s lyrium!”

It wouldn’t have stopped me. I wanted to live, but I couldn’t let my sib die.

Then I fade-stepped into the path of the dagger that would’ve killed Rook. I grabbed Solas’s wrist to try to drive the blade upward and away, but he had too much speed, strength, and momentum behind the strike.

I gasped and stumbled back as an ara'v'el made of ice slammed into me. Cold, cold, cold... cold, like the sharpest of winds on Skyhold’s parapet shoved into my chest. Fuck that hurt. The shock of it made my knees go weak.

“Nae, Vhen'an!” Sulahn’nehn’s and Solas’s voices twisted together like silken yarn. Screaming the same words.

Hands grabbed my now solid body from every direction. Tugging at me. I couldn’t even blink past the pain in my chest. Just like I'd thought, he’d gone for the heart. What did it matter that he’d cloven it in twain? It had been half his already.

A bright bubble of magic pushed everyone but Solas away, muting external sounds to almost nothing. It glimmered like the prettiest day in the Fade. That he could even cast that spell was as impressive as the largest herd of Halla I’d ever seen at the first Ar'lath'vhen I’d gone to. That he continued to hold it even more so. My knees crumpled and he wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me as close as the dagger let him. For a moment, we were back on my balcony in Skyhold. ‘Losing you would be…’ the remembered taste of him on my lips, oranges, cocoa, jasmine, and his own delicious musk filled my senses for all too brief a time. Then I jerked back to a much more painful reality.

Nothing. Losing me had been nothing to him. The bitter thought made me blink my eyes against the cold rain on my face. My soul ached at the warmth of his arm where he held me up, tilted to keep from driving the dagger deeper. If I’d had any breath at all, I’d have laughed. It didn’t matter. Damage done.

Searing tears trailed down my rain-wet cheeks. If they didn’t move the dagger, I probably had half an hour or so. I’d seen plenty of people die from similar wounds. All the warriors I’d ever fought with had made it a point to go around a battlefield pulling the blade from wounds like these. I’d been horrified the first time I’d seen Blackwall and Bull finishing wounded enemies off. They were beaten, wasn’t that enough?

Bull had quietly taken me aside to explain why they pulled daggers from chests and gave a quick stab to the carotid artery of downed foes. If we’d left them, they’d have been eaten alive by something. It had been mercy, not cruelty. A horrific kind of mercy, perhaps, but still, one I deeply understood now. Fucking purple fade whales, that blade hurt.

Solas’s hand curled around mine where it rested between the pommel and last inch of the blade. The razor sharp dagger sliced both our fingers open, mixing our blood in a perverted mimicry of Dalish wedding vows. “Nae! Gar’as qu’en’a’thra? Vhen'an, why did you come! Why do this?” His voice held so much distress.

“Rook. My… my sib.” I managed to gasp the words out.

Solas swore viciously in ancient El'vhen as he lifted me to lay me out on the stone slab. My gaze caressed his foolish, beloved face. A face I hadn’t seen in eight years. He’d thinned out a little from being on the run, but his beauty still gleamed like a star to me. He’d let his hair grow and wore it like many Sentinels did. Tightly braided on top and clipped short at the sides and back. The rain and low-light had turned it almost black. It struck me as incredibly unfair that I’d never know for sure what colour it was. Horror, shame, and determination painted his features.

My voice wavered. “Fen’har’el ena’n’sal enaste. Your blessing, Dread Wolf, hurts a bit more than others I’ve had.” The blade had sliced a lung, too. Warmth trickled down over my lips. And I had to suck air like a swimmer surfacing after a long dive to speak. “Fen’har'el mir halam. Ma. You. Of course, it would be you who ends me.” Hot tears ran from the corners of my eyes down my temples and into my hairline. They’d already traced paths down the fronts of my cheeks. “And… and it takes my death wound to make you hold me in your arms again. Asshole.”

“Ir abel'as, Vhen'an. Ir abel'as. I am sorry!”

Sulahn’nehn came up to the other side of the slab and laced our fingers together. The barrier still reflected colours like a soap bubble on bath night when I’d been a girl. Mamae had blown bubbles in her hands with soap to delight me. By all that’s holy, they were right about your life flashing before your eyes when you were dying.

Either Sulahn’nehn had figured out how to get through or Solas had let him in. Relief that he’d kept the others out washed over me. I didn’t exactly want to croak with an audience. And I didn’t want Rook’s last memories of me to be watching me die. I’d rather they remembered the picnic we’d gone on and skinny dipping in the lake last summer at the temple.

My words were whispery and slightly gurgling. That lung was filling up fast. Drowning me on dry land. More heat trickled down the side of my face from the corner of my mouth. “Shi’r’a’l mir’hlin, my journey comes. My journey calls.”

Solas held such determined ferocity in his voice, but his hand on my cheek, wiping away the blood was so gentle. “Nae. The Halam’shiv’an’as was mine to perform. My debt to pay. Never yours. Ara ma’desen mel’ar. I shall keep you here. I will save you.”

I leaned my cheek into his palm. Even that small movement hurt. “Fool. You always have been a fool, Solas. The wound is mortal. And so am I. There is no holding me here. No matter your power.”

“Nae. Mir Bora'lahn. Nae. Banal nad'as. Banal.”

That broke a smothered, painful laugh from me. “And you dare call me your lost joy. I remembered to call you an asshole, right?”

“Yes. You remembered to call me an ass.”

“Some things are certain in this world, Solas. Death certainly follows a dagger in the heart.”

Solas's voice held a keening grief, and he leaned down to touch my forehead with his. “Ma Vhen’an bel’lan’a’ris.”

My voice, weak as it was, held bitterness. “Eternal love! Solas. If you’d loved me you would have been there. You wouldn’t have closed me out and refused to let me make my own decisions!” I had to pause for a moment as an extremely painful coughing fit made me splatter blood all over my front. When I’d caught my wavering, fractured breath again, I whispered, "Tel'na'lath. Tel'na'vhen'an, Solas. Tel'na. It's not love. Not your heart. It's not. Love is being there.” I squeezed Sulahn’nehn’s fingers. He'd taken off both our gauntlets and gloves to press our palms skin to skin. “What you’ve done… it’s not love, Solas.”

“I was always there, ma Vhen'an. In the only ways I could be.”

“Sulahn’nehn? Sulahn’nehn ir'as na? Where is Sulahn’nehn?”

Sulahn’nehn's solemn voice answered me and he squeezed my hand. “Ir ara, ma Vhen'an, bel’lan’a’ris. I am here, my love. Forever.”

I turned my face to look up at him. His so beautiful face set in long, grieving lines. “Sa'vunin. One more day. I would give so much for just one more day with you, ma Vhen'an. Ir abel'as. I couldn’t let Rook die.”

Sulahn’nehn smiled gently and ran his other bared palm back over my braided, wet hair. “Var’lath la’sal sa’vunin. We will love one more day. Many more days. Bel'lan'a'ris, ma Vhen'an, bel'lan'a'ris. You forget what I told you.”

“Nae. I didn’t forget. I fear you fool yourself out of love.”

“We shall see, ma Vhen'an.”

“Will you sing me on my way? And help me pull it out? Maybe plant a vallas'dah'len for me in the Emerald Groves?”

“You will return, Vhen'an. I will be waiting. Ar lath ma, Vhen'an.”

“Ar lath ma, Vhen'an. Ir abel'as.”

He shook his head and smiled. “Tel’abel'as.”

I smiled at his bad joke. ‘I’m not Abel'as. I’m not sorry.’

Then he sang. As he’d done so much of over our love affair of almost six years. His vibrant, resonant voice eased me. I loved him so much. I wished I could stay.

Tel’Enfenim, ma Vhen'an (never fear, my love)

Mala eth (you are safe)

Atish’an, ma Vhen'an (peace, my love)

Then’e’r’as (dream)

Mel’av’a somni’ar  (it is time to dream)

Mala taren ara'va's (your mind journeys)

Tel'enfenim (never fear)

Ir'as'sal ma ghil'as (wherever you shall go)

Ara ma’dar mel’ar (I will be here)

Ma gar'as mir ren'an (follow my voice)

Ara ma’ath’lan vhen’as (I will call you home.)

Ma gar'as mir ren'an (follow my voice)

Ara ma’ath’lan vhen’as (I will call you home.)

His song and beautiful, rolling lyrics soothed me. And I stopped fighting. I even squeezed Solas’s hand. Somehow, through everything, and likely out of habit, I’d held my fade green magic prosthetic in place. “Ir an'na'la for ros. It’s so hard to see.”

“Vir'sumeil.” (We are close) Sulahn’nehn’s voice cracked. He feared, too.

I fumbled until I had my fingers tangled in the lapel of Solas’s coat. I pulled and he obligingly came closer. My arms were so weak I almost couldn’t feel them. My words came out as a choked whisper. Even then, I kept his secrets. Fool that I am. I should’ve kept my vallas'lin. I’d worn Dir'th'am'en’s, Keeper of Secrets and Knowledge. “Nad’as a’gar, (I must go).” I caught my breath and cupped his cheek. His beautiful purple eyes hurt my soul. We should’ve had years to look into one another’s eyes. Years he’d denied us both. I traced his eyebrow. My strength was fading fast. “Dir'th'am'en. Leth'an'i'vir," I whispered. “Solas. Falon’din. Wisdom. Whatever the fuck name you want to wear. I must go. Just like the deer in your legends. You cannot change that. When we pull this dagger, my life’s blood will flow. Heavy with the knowledge and power of the vir'abel'as'an.”

I had to catch my breath again. Shadows darkened the pretty bubble around us. Heat painted my lips and dribbled down my chin. “And don’t you dare waste it, like you wasted all these years. Like you wasted our love.” I swallowed against the excruciatingly awful burning in my chest. “Use. It. Tear the fucking veil down and save the world.”

Solas gulped audibly. Tears staining his beautiful face. “Ar en'a, Vhen'an. I will finish what I started. Come back. Please come back to us all.”

I just shook my head sadly, my gaze caught to his. He spoke of uth'en'era. Something no mortal elf had ever experienced.

“Nae, ma Vhen'an. Mala sule'din nad'as. (Now you must endure until death.) Dir'th'ara'ma, Solas. Dir'th'ara lath'as. Learn to love, truly. Ma'las ame'lin ne halam.” (I hope you find a new name.) A happier one. Ma ghil'an'a mir din'an, Leth'an'i'vir.” (Guide me into my death, Leth'an'i'vir.) Atish'an, Solas. I hope you find a place of peace."

I found myself whispering the Dalish prayer for the Dead. I didn’t believe in the gods anymore, but I'd always believed in Solas. Even when I shouldn’t have.

Oh, Falon’din

Leth'an'i'vir

Ghil'as'vir el'a'din'an, d'el'l't'as'h la'vhen

Ghil la'isala

"Oh, Falon’din 

Leth'an'i'vir - friend to the dead

Guide my feet, calm my soul,

Lead me to my rest."

Peace flooded over me. I should’ve known he'd answer. 

I lifted my darkening gaze to my beloved. My Sulahn’nehn. Oh, how I’d wanted to see what our children looked like. “Ar lath ma, Vhen'an. Mana. (Help me.) It hurts. Sing to me?” He leaned down to kiss me, and we tasted each other’s tears. Then he braced his forehead against mine and sang to me again. The same beautifully mournful song. I wished I had time to learn all it meant. His warm palm wrapped around mine where I held the dagger and pommel of the blade. And these vows, weren't perverted.

Solas’s voice chanted arcane El'vhen words I’d never heard through a throat thickened with unshed tears. Sulahn’nehn and I pulled the dagger from my heart together. His beautiful, loving golden eyes were the last thing I saw. And the worshipful press of his lips the last thing I felt as I faded away.

An anguished scream of, “Mahri!” from my sib, Rook, was the last sound I heard.

Chapter Text

ROOK

Varric tugged at my arm, but all I could see, now that fucking Solas had dropped the iridescent bubble he’d held while Varric and I had beaten our fists bloody against it, was my beloved, eldest sister’s body. Her eyes had glazed in death, and her chest glowed like a star.

The tall El'vhen she’d loved so deeply stood without expression at the head of the altar. Tears coursed down his cheeks and the rain made his hood cling. Her blood filled grooves in the altar she rested on. Draining down into sigils all over the ground around us, all through the ritual circle.

But Solas once again held his ritual dagger, stained with Mahri’s blood. His eyes gleamed silvery white, he chanted several final words and touched the tip of the blade to the central, lyrium filled sigil, and Mahri’s blood lit with jade green veil fire. It raced around the circle, lighting the sigils, until a complex pattern had formed, complete. The loudest, most jagged lightning strike of veil fire cracked the heavens, and to my horror, I realized we’d failed.

Completely and utterly. While I’d stood in shock at Mahri’s death, from saving me, Solas had finished the ritual. From that gargantuan streak of light, the veil peeled back like paper curling in a blaze. My guts churned and my heart dropped at what the fading veil revealed. Five shadows far larger than even an El'vhen lifted their heads. Each had the outline of one of the Elven gods. My instincts, long honed by treasure hunting, and escaping those who wanted that treasure, screamed at me to get everyone out. My instincts had never been wrong before.

I grabbed Varric’s shoulder. “Get Neve and Lace!” I had to shout over the constant rolling thunder and the eerie sound of veil fire. “We need to get out. Head to the el'u'vi'an. I need to get Mahri.”

Varric's tear streaked face crumpled. “She’s dead, Rook. The living are what matter.”

“Just get the others!” I shouted and ran toward the altar where Solas and Sulahn’nehn stood frozen, staring up through green lit clouds at the return of the gods. I viciously punched Solas in the back and he turned to me with a snarl. “We have to go!” I shouted.

My words jostled them both into sense and Sulahn’nehn scooped Mahri up into his arms. The altar she’d lain on dripped scarlet from the slick of it all over the top. Sulahn’nehn let out a sharp whistle and we took off running. Surrounded by six Sentinels. Three of the gods didn’t wait to start throwing ferocious magical attacks at us. Solas brought up the rear, keeping a shield of light between us and them. Every time a bolt hit the green-tinged shield, it flickered.

I didn’t know much about magic, but with a powerful mage as a mother, a brother, and a sister, I knew enough to recognize an almost drained mage when I saw one. Even the great Dread Wolf struggled to perform a world altering ritual, lose his rejected beloved, and hold a shield against three e'v'an'u'ris within half an hour. We ran. Even Solas was gasping by the time we reached the el'u'vi'an. He reached out to touch the glass, then held the shield around us all while we piled through into wherever he’d decided to take us. I glared at Solas, but I’d go just about anywhere the e'v'an'u'ris weren’t at that point.

We tumbled like a basket of wet, bedraggled kittens through another el'u'vi'an to stumble into a long hallway. Purple-blue light filled the corridor.

Solas came last, closed the el'u'vi'an behind us all, then collapsed, heaving, to his knees. “Her blood was wrong. I had not designed the spell for another's life. They must have been watching, waiting. They have broken through entirely.”

“Brilliant observation, asshole,” I muttered from where I lay on my side trying to catch my breath. His glare reminded me clearly who and what he was.

“You, do not get to call me names.” Then with a flick of his wrist he sealed my lips together.

Nothing I could do would pry them apart. Varric just shrugged at me with an, ‘it’s your own fault' look. After the light and noise of the ritual grounds, Solas’s voice sounded muffled even in the quiet hallway.

He gestured around us. “The Lighthouse. One of my many bases of operations. It is on the edge of the Fade and the Crossroads. It is completely hidden from the living, dead, spirits bigger than wisps, many others, and the e'v'an'u'ris. The buildings and courtyard respond to the needs of the inhabitants, anything it doesn't, is seen to by the Caretaker. I suggest we get cleaned up, fed, sleep if we can, and then we can reconvene in the central room. Five of the eight e'v'an'u'ris were freed when I used Mah—" his voice broke and he cleared his sandy throat. “Either they had already freed themselves, in whole or part and were waiting for the veil to come down, quite unlikely given the types of spirits I had watching the Black City. Or the power of the vir'abel'as'an gave them enough of a wedge to break free. It should have been me who bled into the circle and gave my life. It would have been pure power, not power and copious knowledge.”

He pointed at the large door on the opposite end of the hall to the el'u'vi'an. Solas had caught his breath. Enviable recovery period. “I have locked the el'u'vi'an for now as a precautionary action. Everyone is safe for short time periods in the protected grounds of the Lighthouse. Where the light ends, you will be exposed to the remains of the veiled Fade. The world will take some time to integrate and heal. For years yet, the Fade will be dangerous to the living. Few of you are mages, you will not do well.”

His voice went soft. “To be honest, the living should only stay here for short times ‘tween trips to the real. You will need a base there, as well. Only the El'vhen, the Forgotten ones, and the E'v'an'u'ris can live Fade side. Elves, too, perhaps, but it may be unwise to test that so soon. The living are not meant to stay long within the realms of the Fade.”

Neve said, “He’s right. Even mages don’t like to physically come here. We all need to be careful.”

I stood and offered her a hand, which she waved off. I herded my party away to get wounds tended, food into them, and if we were all lucky, baths, and sleep. I tested it and my lips could separate now. But I’d learnt my lesson about calling the Dread Wolf names. I wanted badly to go to my sister. My heart was a wretched, burning hollow. We’d long since grown past our childhood together, and had our own lives. But she’d still been my sister. And now she was dead. Because of him. Sulahn’nehn knelt with her bloodied body in his lap, six Sentinels standing guard around them.

Solas still knelt, as if in penance, staring at my sib.

SULAHN'NEHN

The flaccid weight of a beloved person’s dead body never grew easier to bear.

Solas’s voice came to me as if through a deep well. “Your rooms are where they have always been. And there are three suites to either side now for your Sentinels. I… am so sorry. If there is aught I can do to…”

“You can help me clean her up and settle the el'vhen who gave her life for the world for uth'en'e'r'a.”

He bowed his head in acceptance. Then staggered to his feet before leading us all to the very top, locked, floor of the Lighthouse. It hadn’t changed much since I’d last been there. My Sentinels peeled off to their rooms to see to their needs. They all had grim expressions. Sule'din had meant a lot to everyone.

Solas opened the door for me, and with a gesture, the room doubled in size and one end now held a bier used for the long sleep of waking dreams. He opened another door, this one concealed in patterned stonework, and I carried Sule'din down the curving staircase to the smoothed, natural pools steaming with sweet scented white water.

The temple looked the same as the last time I’d been there. Carved into the dark stone walls were resting images of wolves, bears, ravens, and owls. The door we walked through had a carving of a howling black wolf on one side, an echoing white one on the other, and the door between looked like the view of the back of a howling wolf’s head. Exposing Solas’s three-spirit nature to anyone with the knowledge to understand. What mother had done to him to achieve it had been absolutely reprehensible.

He made a gesture and small lanterns filled with orange scented oil flickered to life. “Everyone else will find rooms and the baths there will suffice for them. She should have the sacred temple.”

I just nodded my head and laid her out on one of several tables. The ancient stonework on the walls didn’t depict any e'v'an'u'ris except Falon’din, Dir'th'am'en, and Solas. The only truly triune spirit in our family. But Solas as he’d looked in the times of Ar'lath'an.

Thousands of years ago, Fel'as'san and I had brought the desiccated remains of Solas’s original body there to prepare him for his pyre. This large spring spoke deeply to El'vhen of peace, hope, love, and sadness. While I stripped Sule'din of the armour I’d hoped would protect her, Solas turned his back to both of us and awkwardly stripped out of his armoured coat. His silvered blood spread over his dark purple shirt. “I didn’t know you were wounded.”

“Rook got in some successful strikes. They are fast with those blades of theirs. Varric was kinder, he only broke a few of my ribs. It did not matter. I walked the din’an shi’r’a’l.” He let his head with the long, red war-braid fall back. “Sulahn’nehn—”

“Don’t. She will return.”

Solas nodded and stripped down to his unders before wading into the water. Steam obscured so much in the low light, but he still closed his eyes when I turned with Sule'din’s sheet wrapped form in my arms. I’d stripped too, and waded into the water. “Do you want to hold her or wash her?”

“I am surprised you want me here at all. T’was by my hand—"

“And her choice. You never have learned to let others make their own. Which is Mother’s fault more than yours, but still a thing to think about repairing. On your new path, you might consider doing so. She didn’t get in the way of your blade for you, or me, or the world. She did it for her baby sib, Rook.”

“I shall hold her for you to bathe. We… we have never been intimate.”

“Of course you haven’t. Foolish wolf.”

“I would not lay with her under false pretenses. And that is all I could give her when at Skyhold. I tried to tell her… once. Everything.”

“And chickened out and told her about the vallas'lin instead. She told me.”

“I would truly like people to stop comparing me to a fowl.”

“So stop acting like one. And she’s known your identity, your full identity, for years. What stopped you then?” I gently handed Sule'din to Solas and he sat down on the ledge under the water with her in his arms.

“She is still, so, beautiful.” His gaze could’ve been glued to her face.

I sighed through my nose. “You should tell her that when she wakes.”

“She would not wish to hear it from me.”

I snorted in disbelief as I unbraided Sule'din’s hair and washed it with the soft, scented soap kept there. The aromas of oranges and jasmine filled the air.

“It was so much shorter when we were at Skyhold. She kept it short, and ‘messy on purpose’. It drove Josephine to distraction. Mah… Sule'din, how she hated how they tried to dress her up like an, as she put it, Orlesian clockwork toy.”

“Would you have felt any different if they’d tried to slap a ridiculous label like ‘Herald of Andraste’ on you? Andraste was just a mage who heard the sweet lies of the e'v'an'u'ris.”

“Nae. Of course not. Almost always, I wondered how long it would take for them to suss me out to kill. When I would be forced to escape.”

I rinsed her hair with a pitcher, then used a silky cream to soften it for her. When she woke, she should be clean, dry, and warm. “I need to wash her chest.”

Solas firmly closed his eyes.

I pulled the top of the sheet down to bathe the blood away. “It’s working. She may be close to uth'en'e'r'a. The wound is closed.”

“It may have been the Well of Sorrows. The light sealed the wound on the altar.”

“'Ma nuven'in.” (As you wish.)

“It is difficult to find hope. I have not had hope in an extremely long time. I am not even certain I know what hope feels like anymore.”

“You could have.”

“She is so angry with me her eyes spit daggers.”

“An apology would’ve helped. And yes, I know that’s not high on your repertoire of skills, but practice does help.” I finished washing Sule'din, but could tell Solas didn’t want to let her go yet. So I turned him and unbraided his war braid. “I’m surprised you let it grow out. Without your hair, you look much different from your usual.”

“Was I not at war?”

“With the whole damned world, Wolf. Or most of it. You might pick smaller battles.”

He snorted as I soaped up his waist length hair. Thousands of years had passed, and we still had the comfort of the lovers we’d once been. At least, in touching each other.

“My battles do tend to choose me.”

“Not always. You’ve made them necessary a time or three.” He didn’t respond so I guided him to tip his head back and rinsed, then softened his hair. “How bad are the wounds?”

“Mostly all healed. Ribs are still sore.”

“Don’t tell Rook that, they’ll try harder next time. They’ve got eyes just like Sule'din’s, and they spit absolute hatred at you. I wouldn’t turn your back on them. Be a shame to ruin another shirt.”

Solas snorted then winced.

I ran my hands gently down his sides. Of course, the stab wounds were deeper than he’d let on, two of the ribs were dislocated and pushed inward. He’d eventually heal on his own, but it wasn’t necessary with me there. “This will sting. I’ve never been as skilled with healing as you.”

He dropped his chin in a nod to signal he was ready. But he showed no sign of discomfort as the ribs contorted back into place and the wounds closed. My heart ached at knowing why he never let himself show much pain. Any he did was usually an act.

“Ma seranna.” (My thanks.)

I finished cleaning us both up and let Solas lay Sule'din out on the table I quickly wiped down. Working as a seamless pair, we conducted the rights for one going into uth'en'e'r'a together. Neither of us had been priests, but all El'vhen were taught them in case of emergency. El'vhen could heal even mortal wounds in uth'en'e'r'a. If someone helped them get there. A flash of memory made me want to curl my shoulders in. Me, upon finding my mother, Mythal’s body, and turning away rather than helping her. Relief sheeted around my grief. At least she was dead. Or mostly. “Do you have the ingredients for the drink here?”

“Always. Old ways are hard to break entire.”

“Let’s get dried off and get some into Sule'din. She will be the first previously mortal elf to enter and wake from uth'en'e'r'a.”

Solas dried off, collected his things, and said, “I will make it and bring it to your room.”

“We should eat, too.”

“Ever the soldier, we two.”

“Can’t fight if you don’t eat.”

He left and I gently traced the silvery blue tear streaks of lyrium on Sule'din’s face. They hadn’t come off even though I’d washed her face thrice. They were likely permanent. A leftover of the magics in the circle perhaps? Something to do with the blade being crafted of lyrium like many weapons of old? And like the rest of her scars. They only made her more beautiful in my eyes.

Chapter Text

ROOK

I cracked my neck, rolled my shoulders then stood fiddling with the pommels of my daggers. Thinking about everything Varric, Lace, Neve, and I had just discussed. My foot started its never ending tapping. Ugh. Holding still annoyed the halla shit out of me. I pursed my lips at the extremely boring interior of Solas's Lighthouse. Where was the colour? The style? The anything but grey stone and, oh!, more grey stone. Bloody pathetic arse of a god, that's for damned sure. And my entire culture feared, fended off, and appeased that? Boring.

Speak of the demon. My gaze caught on the only person who hadn’t said anything. “You’ve been quiet, Solas.” My voice still held a great deal of anger whenever I spoke to him.

He stood alone, off to the side of the central meeting room, with his arm tucked behind his back, and an open book on his other palm. Burnished red hair fell to his waist in a straight as silk mass, and he’d dressed like the faded, frescoed images of ancient El'vhen all over the walls. A high necked, sweeping, multilayered, flowing robe of silken fabric that shifted shades of dark purple every time he moved. And enough gold jewellery to make my fingers itch. He had at least four piercings in each ear. One pierced eyebrow and a nose stud. But even I wasn’t fool enough to try to steal from the Dread Wolf.

His voice could’ve frozen an active volcano. “I have offered food, beds, clothing, rooms, and safety. What more do you expect from me?”

“A little help cleaning up your mess would be nice.”

He carefully closed the book and gently put it back on the shelf. Then stalked toward me with the enviable fluidity of a life-long warrior. His eyes flashed silver for just a moment and I couldn’t move.

“My. Mess.” He said the words slowly, as if tasting them.

I could just see Varric hunching down on the opposite side of the table from the corner of my eye. He did that when he wanted to avoid a fight. Or be in position to throw the table at someone if a fight couldn't be avoided.

Solas’s clipped words drew my attention firmly back to him. I needed to fidget so damned badly. “Please explain to me how you and your crew, to whom I have also offered safety, interrupting the work of years and almost sentencing the world to a slow, wasting death, causing the accidental death of someone I dearly loved, and releasing beings of such power that I have already died once to imprison them, is, in any way, my mess?”

Solas was all the more terrifying in his calm, snippy precision.

Varric was mouthing the words ‘shut up, shut up, shut up’ at me.

But that had never been my strong suit. I smiled, in a not very friendly expression that showed a lot of teeth. “You stabbed my sister in the heart. There was nothing accidental about it. Then you used her death to power a filthy blood magic sacrifice that has destroyed the world by tearing the veil down and releasing beings my sister told me were very bad news. So what, are you going to do, to clean up your mess.”

Varric shrank a little farther under the table and even Lace looked scared. Neve sat quietly taking in every detail. Solas stood absolutely frozen for long moments in front of me. I stood frozen in front of him, too, but only because I couldn’t move beyond breathing from the neck down.

“Eh, Chuckles, Sule'din would probably prefer their sib not in statue form or charred to a crisp.”

I think Varric had just saved my life. Again.

Solas closed his eyes, and the only thing clearly betraying his rage was the pulsing muscle in his jaw. “Thank you, Varric. For recalling to me that my unworthy guest is Sule'din’s sibling. I intend to continue to offer you and your group safety. Access to my considerable libraries. Food, rooms, clothing, medical care as needed, and a place to hide while you rest from cleaning up your mess.

"I intend to continue to keep watch over the elf who stepped in front of a blade meant for your heart. Necessitating, due to your interference, the use of my beloved’s death to take down the veil. Or lose the chance to do so for another eighty years. The veil that has been slowly choking the life and magic from Thedas for thousands of years.

"Her blood in place of mine allowed the imprisoned e'v'an'u'ris to escape. And I warrant they are wreaking havoc as we speak. If you had simply listened to your sister, who has access to millions of Ar'lath'an era memories and more knowledge than the entirety of the living beings on Thedas, and stayed away, the veil would have been taken down by my death, the e'v'an'u'ris would remain imprisoned, and Sule'din would be alive and aware as she should be." Then he turned on a heel and stalked up the stairs.

The gentle click of a door latch preceded the freeing of my muscles. I hopped in place and waved my arms so I could be certain I could. Great humping halla horns. My sister had been in love with that? Better her than me.

“Kid? Pick on someone more in your weightclass,” Varric muttered. He blew out a breath. “Solas and Sule'din are right. We fucked up. Refused to listen. Thought we knew better. And now this is our mess to clean up.”

“But he—”

“Saved the world. Apparently. Despite our best efforts to prevent it. The truth almost radiated off of him."

I growled low in my throat, turned, and stomped to the huge double doors leading outside. We’d discussed things, and everyone had put forth ideas on who to talk to for potential help. I had my own contacts to reach out to. But first… I eyed the building on the opposite side of the square. A little climbing practice to shake off the jitters.

Perhaps I should listen to Varric and stop tugging on a particular wolf’s tail. But I doubted I’d be able to. Something about Solas just got under my skin like a blowfly under a halla’s hide.

Chapter Text

ROOK 

The bruises on Lace's face hadn’t healed completely by the time three days had passed, she'd barely dodged a bolt of magic and smacked face-first into a wall during our run to the el'u'vi'an. We sat conferring in the central room when both me and Varric were summoned like peasants to the usually locked top floor. They’d been letting me visit as often as I wanted, but the sight of Sule'din, so still and… lifeless when she was usually so full of verve and zest made me ill. My fault. So I hadn’t come as often as I should have.

Sulahn’nehn sat next to my sister where she rested on the white stone bier. A white sheathed mattress and covers kept her modesty intact. He rubbed lotion into her hand. A tray held a glass pitcher and a slim vial of sparkling, honey shaded fluid.

Solas stood near the far wall. His robes glimmered like a butterfly's scales in shades of green and blue that day. A friend of Sule'din’s who I’d only met once, a Tevene mage named Dorian, stood at the head of the bier they’d put Sule'din in. The covers were neatly tucked over her chest. Her stump lay on top of the blankets. Her hair laid in a neatly tended fall over her right shoulder.

Dorian’s deep, aristocratic voice held his upper class Tevene accent and a great deal of worry. “Magically, she’s caught between states. Something will need to shift if there’s to be change. Her spirit link is... frayed. I've never seen anything like it. I doubt food and rest will be enough. And I have no knowledge on how uth'en'e'r'a works.”

The respect in Solas’s tone surprised me. He’d never once spoken to me like that. But now I thought about it, Dorian had served in the Inquisition, too. Fighting and bleeding alongside Sule'din, Varric, and Solas.

Solas stood with a hand behind his back, dressed in those flowing robes, staring out a window. “I appreciate confirmation, Dorian. Thank you for coming. She would have wanted you to be here for this.”

Solas turned to look with anguished eyes at Sule'din. “She has entered uth'en'e'r'a, but... from what we can surmise, she is held from coming back by the Well of Sorrows. It is obscuring her path home. And her link back to her body is fraying more as every hour passes. Magically, she is balanced on a slick log over a deep chasm and could fall to either side. With Dorian’s confirmation of my and Sulahn’nehn’s thoughts, it is clear that nothing average will be enough to bring her back to us and life.”

Sulahn’nehn rested Sule'din’s hand on his leg, as if he couldn’t bear to let her rest alone. He still dressed as simply as he ever had in leggings and a loose, lace up shirt. “Not all El'vhen returned from uth'en'e'r'a. Especially toward the end of our civilization. She has healed, her body is whole, but her spirit is likely lost. Either wandering Loth'len'an, the place between life and El'alas'som'n'i, The Land of Dreams, or in a dream she doesn’t know is a dream. And one she may not wish to ever leave. If that is the case… Solas, ask her, using her title, something only you, I, or the Well would know.”

Solas frowned, thought for a moment, then said, “Bel'lan'a'ris Ghil'a'n'a, what colour were the steps leading to Mythal’s palace in ancient Ar'lath'an city?”

Sule'din’s eyes opened but were filled with swirling white clouds instead of her normal shade. She drew breath and whispered in what sounded like a thousand voices, “The steps were crafted of purest lyrium. Poor Fen. You bled so many times on them.”

“Thank you, Bel'lan'a'ris Ghil'a'n'a, that is enough information.” He wasn’t rude, just firm, exposing his experience in speaking with magical constructs.

Sulahn’nehn frowned from where he sat, platinum blond hair falling unbound. “Now, say her name.”

Solas did so, several times, to no response. “Everyone else try, if you please. Just say her name. Any of them.” Solas’s voice strained taughtly.

Everyone tried, to the same results. Nothing. Even the rude sibling nicknames we’d used hadn’t elicited a response.

Sulahn’nehn had curled the fingers of Sule'din’s hand around his. “Even in uth'en'e'r'a, we might see an eyelid twitch or feel a slight finger motion at the sound of their name from a loved one. She doesn’t respond at all. The Well will not allow her death. It keeps her here, but she isn’t conscious and aware. And with how her spirit link feels, she may never find her way back.”

I paced around the large room. Avoiding Solas. “Is there nothing we can do?”

“Other than take her back to the temple, so that when her body finally fails, she’ll return to the Well of Sorrows? Nothing I know of. She’s something in between an Elf and an El'vhen. We don’t even know why she changed. We’ve always assumed it’s because she carries the Well. I was so certain that her spirit being a knowledge spirit would be enough to make up the difference. They’re incredibly powerful spirits. Only someone with one could’ve held the Well in the first place.”

Desperation filled my voice. “Isn’t there anything to be done? Can’t you, I don’t know, turn her all the way El'vhen? Then she’d be able to eventually return, right?” I fiddled with my wide gold bangles while I paced. No self-respecting Lord of Fortune kept their treasure in a trunk. We wore it, advertising our skill.

“We’re not demons to fill someone with our essence to turn them into something else. And the problem is with the spirit, not the body. Although… “ his golden eyes grew distant. “There’s one way, but I’m not strong enough. I’m second born. I might just draw the process of her death out more, or get lost myself. We’d need the power and knowledge of a first born.”

"First born?"

"The e'v'an'u'ris. The mages who claimed godhood over the El'vhen. Or, another spirit bound to a sacred lyrium shell," Solas murmured the answer while looking out the window. 

“And all the remaining first born are out cavorting and dealing damage to celebrate their new found freedom. Mahri. Why? I would’ve died to—”

Solas said, “Stop me. You would have died to stop me. T’would have broken your sister’s heart. And that is why she took the death blow for you, Rook. Except Sule'din had tried to tell you many times that the veil had to be removed. She told you why it must be so.”

My temper flared. “You really don’t pull punches do you, Dread Wolf? I think we've been mispronouncing your name. It's just Dreadful, isn’t it? Would you like an apology? I’m sorry. More sorry than words can say that my hard head, impatience, and stubborn pride caused harm to my sister.”

He dipped his chin just a bit in acknowledgment. Did the bastard always have to look so regal? He made me feel like I hadn’t bathed in a month.

“Do not ever expect me to pull my punches regarding her. Never.”

“Not all the first born are causing havoc.” This from Varric. He stood leaning against the door, looking at Solas.

“Varric. Do you not think I would have saved her by now if I could have? The blood sacrifice was mine to pay. Never hers. If tearing my heart out and shoving it into her chest would work, I would have already done so.”

Sulahn’nehn frowned. “We could do it together. You’d be strong enough and have the knowledge to find her. Even with a badly fraying link. The emotional ties she has with me would help me convince her to return. If we could find her, without losing ourselves…”

“Without her consent? You would honestly do that?” Shock bled from Solas's tone.

“Given how much she loves us both, loves her friends, her life, her clan, and Rook?” Lahn fiddled with an elaborate, engraved gold bracelet. It matched Sule'din’s. “Given what we were trying for… she’d want to return.”

“And you are just… fine with it, and me? Of bonding?” Solas looked at him like Sulahn’nehn had lost complete touch with reality.

“Before we get into personal things no one else needs to hear. If Solas and I both sealed ourselves with deeply binding vows to Sule'din, a first and second born, it requires both a magic and a blood exchange. It might be enough for us to enter the spirit world, find her, convince her to return, and get back ourselves. Solas, among his other talents, is a spirit worker and healer.”

I frowned. “Binding vows? What kind of vows?”

Solas and Sulahn’nehn looked at each other. Sulahn’nehn ran a hand through his hair. “What would equate to bonding or marriage vows. El'vhen didn’t often officially bond with vows. They give all parties access to things, within ourselves, that most of us wouldn’t choose to share. Matches in the upper levels of El'vhen'en society were often for politics. Our relationships were often too fluid to go that far, and the vows are extremely hard to complete. It will likely take much of my magic, and weaken us both for a time. And it must be said that it may not work. We are grasping at anything that could possibly return Sule'din to us. Lost spirits... they rarely returned.”

Dorian still had his chin braced on his hand. “Not all that much different from Tevene relationships. And she does love you both. That has to be some help?” He glanced my way with serious grey eyes. “We must always take emotions into account when working our magics.”

Varric shuffled, then leaned back against the door again. The light from the gargantuan crystal on top of the Lighthouse mimicked sunlight and gleamed off his greying strawberry-bronze hair. “It kills me to be the voice of reason, but we might need Solas’s power against the other gods. Yours as well, Lahn.”

Solas let out a long suffering sigh. “Mage. I am but a mage. Varric. Never a god.”

“Chuckles? When you’re so many leagues above other mages that you might as well be a god, does the definition really matter?”

Sulahn’nehn and Solas both said, “Yes.” Quite firmly.

Varric shrugged. “Fair enough. But the point stands.”

Dorian stood quietly at the head of the bier, his face thoughtful. This season’s fashion must have been for bird motifs. Dorian’s armoured robes implied a peacock.

I started pacing again. “This… going after her spirit, it’s dangerous to both of you, isn’t it?”

They nodded, almost in sync.

“How long would it take for you both to recover? If you’re successful?”

Solas murmured, “A week. Perhaps two at the most.”

I played with a loose lock of hair. “That’s an acceptable risk period. I need to recruit more people for this fight, anyway. We’re all safe here, according to Solas. If you could unlock the el'u'vi'an, we could handle that.”

Solas folded his arms. “And the matter of Sule'din’s willing consent? She… did not bear much care for me, nor regard me with affection before events surrounding the disastrous rite. And rightfully. Binding myself to her like that feels deeply wrong.”

Varric shook his head. “Normally, I’d agree with you, Chuckles. But this is Lilyfair, Sule'din. Mahri. Our friend. The Inquisitor. The… what do you El'vhen call her? Bella something?”

Sulahn’nehn shifted where he sat. “Bel'lan'a'ris Ghil'an'a. Holder of the Well of Sorrows. And our Guide to Knowledge Eternal.”

"I suppose dwarven titles aren’t any weirder. Think you El'vhen have the market cornered on creepy, though.” Varric ran a hand through his strawberry-bronze hair. Light glimmered off his gold earrings and necklace. He still wouldn’t be convinced buttons were a good thing on shirts. “Can the vows be broken? If she wakes up and decides she wants nothing to do with any of us for this stunt?”

Sulahn’nehn grimaced. “They can be. Not easily, and very painfully, but they can be undone. Although… I’m not certain if that would somehow endanger her. This is a unique situation. I’m not even certain if the vir'abel'as'an would have knowledge to help. It doesn’t respond when I ask. But if she were conscious and aware, she could make her own choices. I don’t like this any more than the rest of you, but if it’s a choice of her wasting away with her spirit lost or her living her life fully. I’ll take responsibility for it.”

Varric snorted. “Oh. Good. She can roast your arse instead of ours, Toymaker. No, we make a unanimous decision and we all hold responsibility. She might hate us all for this. But she’s my friend. I know she'd want to return. And if my vote counts. Do it.”

Dorian frowned. “There’s nothing sexual involved in this, is there? That would be far beyond not getting her consent for a life saving situation.”

Solas answered. “The bond was often as not formed in the course of lovemaking, but it was tradition and not strict necessity. I would do this only to save her life. I do not expect her to forgive me for it, but I would never ask for more than she consciously wished to offer me.”

Dorian slowly nodded then said, "Ladies?" From a large, obviously enchanted gemstone inside a golden setting on his chest came three higher pitched voices, each in turn cast a vote of yes. I had no idea who the voices belonged to. Likely more friends of Sule'din’s or previous Inquisition people. 

I nodded firmly. “She’s my sister. Even without all the power and connections she has… she’s my sister first. Do it. If you’re both willing. When? If you choose to?”

Sulahn’nehn stood. “As close to immediately as possible. The longer her spirit remains confused, the harder it will be to get her to believe. I am accepting, for my part. But Solas and I need to speak privately.”

“It may not work. If she truly hates me the bond will not succeed.”

Lahn rolled his eyes. “For someone with six eyes you’re certainly blind sometimes, Wolf. She doesn’t hate you. She’s incandescently angry with you. And if we all wanted it to be permanent, we’d all have work to do, but Sule'din doesn’t hate you.”

I pressed my lips together. “Will you be safe if my group leaves to check out a potential base? I’ll assume you’re proceeding if neither of you come out. Is there anything you’ll need?”

Lahn leaned against the wall and crossed his arms over his loose white top. “Something other than the slop Solas likely feeds himself would help us all recover.” Lahn grimaced. “Just please don’t let Mistress Harding cook.”

Solas turned back to the window. Did he wear all that ancient Ar'lath'an style jewellery to tempt me? “We shall be safe. My defenses on the tower are keyed to unique entities. Only I can extend that key, most things would be obliterated before reaching the curtain walls. Bodily, Sulahn’nehn and I shall be in a state nigh unto uth'en'e'r'a. When you return, remain in physical contact with anyone new. Otherwise, they shall be incinerated.”

Dorian nodded. “I believe this to be the best course of action given all variables. I unfortunately need to get back. The Elves reclaiming their magic is not doing any favours for them or Minrathous. So few of them even know how to use their new gifts.”

Solas said, “Please keep sending them north through the el'u'vi'ans. My people will help them to find control, limits. I shall erase the vallas'lin from any who wish them removed. I would recommend most do so. The only e'v'an'u'ris who did not use domination of their subjects to ill account, mostly, were Dir'th'am'en and Falon'din.”

“What do you mean control?” I reached up to touch my vallas'lin. Dir'th'am'en, just like Sule'din’s had been. I’d always had a case of hero worship for my big sister.

“The vallas'lin, while sacred to your people now, were once blood spell sigils that gave the depicted e'v'an'u'ris complete control over the enslaved. They marked who each El'vhen belonged to. A thing such as freedom did not exist yet. Even the best e'v'an'u'ris controlled their toys, their chattel thus. Falon'din never used his again after they bloodied him in his temple. And Dir'th'am'en was always the same in many ways. But anyone with vallas'lin of any other is a potential security risk. The e'v'an'u'ris can control them like puppets if they choose to do so.”

“I’ll let any we rescue know. Thank you, Solas.” Dorian then trailed the knuckles of his hand gently across Sule'din’s lyrium scarred face before leaving with Varric.

I frowned, but followed. I hated that I couldn’t help my sister. But while climbing the other day, clarity of my actions had broken through my stubborn pride. Guilt and shame raked through me. I had a crew to assemble and a world to save. No one else seemed minded to do it. I wasn’t even close to leadership material. I much preferred a mostly carefree existence. Why everyone was even looking to me for guidance was beyond me. I couldn’t even keep my own shit together, much less anyone else's. But no one else was stepping up. Halla shit, maybe I'd still end up destroying the world. That was a cheerful thought.

SOLAS

Sulahn’nehn ran a hand through his hair. “Are you willing to do this?”

“I would tear every organ from my body to give to her if necessary. But what of… everything.” I lifted a graceful hand to gesture between us. It had been surprising how quickly I’d fallen into old mannerisms now that I didn’t have to hide anymore. It felt like stretching my wings.

“I haven’t forgiven you completely. But I’m willing to try. For her.”

“I deserved it, and it needed to be done.”

“But not by me, us, Solas. You wouldn’t listen, you lost yourself so badly that you forced me and Fel to attack you on your sacred grounds to bring you to your senses. M'y'th'al’s choice to support Elgar’nan in the aftermath of the war was hard on us all. But what you became…”

I bowed my head. “I thought for a time that… perhaps if I could see what they practiced, I would understand M'y'th'al’s verdict. But it taught me nothing but gross disgust for them. And me, for it. You both brought me back to myself. Or our three selves. However you wish to say it. To label what she made of us. It needed to be done, Vhen'an. I am sorry it had to fall to you both.”

“It will take me time to forgive the person I loved most in the world for forcing me to... I betrayed you. And it haunts me still.”

“It took me some time to accept that it had been necessary. And I dislike lying. The betrayal still stings.” My gaze fell to Sule'din. “And for her, none of that matters. You can have all the time you need. Millennia if necessary.”

“I don’t think it will take that long. Foolish Wolf.”

“By happenstance, I am rather intelligent and well studied.”

“And arrogant. You’re still foolish. In the way particularly smart people often are.”

“People like you?”

Sulahn’nehn shrugged. “I’ve never claimed to be perfect.”

“You are absolutely certain she would want this? These bonds do not break easily.” I walked over to stand next to her bier. I gently trailed my fingers over the neatly melted end of her stump. “Have I not harmed her enough for fifty lifetimes?”

“You’ve harmed her enough. But have you loved her enough? Does she even know what colour your hair is for certain? What your favourite colour, or fruit is? Where you like to retreat to in nature and why? Does she know anything about you? Have you ever truly let her in? Love is far more than simply feeling the emotion, Old Wolf.”

“She learned and knew the deepest parts of me few others know. She knows who I would choose to be. A simple mage who likes frilly cakes, hates tea, and can get far too distracted by study or art. But no… so much of myself I had to suppress. She begged me to learn to love true. That final night.”

Sulahn’nehn’s golden gaze caught me and held me motionless. It had been a long time, and I'd half forgotten how strong and skilled he was. When someone preferred to carve furniture and toys than engage in battle… it could be forgotten that he was once one of M'y'th'al’s greatest generals and her favourite son. “Mother was many things, Solas. But kind, caring, and loving weren’t among them unless she could use them as a manipulation tactic. Have you considered that with all the trauma she put you through, the betrayals, that you may never have truly learned to love? She left you so few choices… Perhaps walking a vir dirth’ara as’lath (Path to learn love) could be a start in doing that. In all the millennia, I rarely had the surcease of uth'en'e'r'a. I’ve had little to do, some eras, other than think and read, and think some more. Healing trauma takes time and work. But you have to start the journey first. And the bonds can be broken. If Sule'din wishes it. She might be angry, but if it saved her life, probably not for too long.”

“How long is too long?”

“A century or three.”

“Ah.”

“Yes.”

“You are truly willing to bond?”

“You suck at marriage proposals, Wolf. I’d work on that before she wakes up.”

“I….”

Sulahn’nehn sighed with amusement and went to the bier. I turned my back while he got Sule'din arranged in the centre of his bed. “Come here, Old Wolf.”

I turned. He stood on the opposite side of the bed. His gaze both wary and… caring? He stripped and climbed in with Sule'din.

I went to the bed and undid the complicated fastenings on my robes before dropping them. I left my unders on.

“Works better skin to skin.”

“This will have to do. It is violation enough for me.”

Sulahn’nehn shrugged and pulled a blade. He was nude so where exactly he’d gotten it from could stay a secret.

“Knife play, so soon?” I held my hands out so Sulahn’nehn could cut the palms.

He then made a small slice in Sule'din’s palm and along the tip of her stump. Her blood flowed in a silver glittered flash of red. Then he cut himself. “I guess we’re both lucky we have an in with Leth'an'i'vir.”

I cast him an unimpressed look. It felt awkward given our history, but I joined one hand, palm to palm with him over Sule'din’s head. Then I claimed her stump, and Sulahn’nehn laced their fingers together on the other side. Our voices entwined as we relaxed and worked the magic that would bind us both to Sule'din… and each other. Once it was finished, I guided our spirits into the Deep Fade. The Land of Waking Dreams.

Chapter Text

ROOK

The riotous pleasure seeking of the Lords of Fortune swallowed me in familiarity and comfort. Neve had taken Lace, and they’d chosen to go to Minrathous to trace Neve’s contacts, get some of her things, and canvas enough of the city to be able to provide a situation report. Even if Solas's e'l'u'vi'an could go anywhere, my sister's people had only found a limited number of intact, working, or repairable mirrors in the past twelve years. There was a whole section of treasure hunters who had tried and failed to learn how the ancient El'vhen had hidden them. We could currently get to Fortune, Minrathous, a place in Ar'lath'an forest, and Treviso. Everywhere else, we'd either have to go over land or see if one of the ancient El'vhen would be willing and able to help us locate new ones. Given his work, Solas probably had a bloody map full of them. Maybe Lahn would help.

Varric and I had come here. A series of hidden caves with a gargantuan, sheltered cove for ships named the Free Port of Fortune on the southern tip of Lomerryn. As long as you played by Isabela’s rules, you were welcome there. If you didn’t comply, she used you as an example of what a late thirties-something pirate could do. I gently shoved a drunk Lord back into the table she’d reeled away from. She lifted her mug to me in thanks.

Varric just followed me. The noise of merrymaking, music, dancer’s bells, and the ever present clanking and jingling of the Lord’s treasure collections made casual speech impossible. Besides, this wasn’t what we were there for. Though I couldn’t deny the desire for a good, brain blasting bender. I didn’t have time. I had to see if I could convince Isabela to help.

We reached her area of the complex. She had, as the founder of Fortune, the best apartments, far away from the noise. She still occasionally bitched about missing 'the noise of life', as she put it, though. I knocked and one of her gruff sailor lads let us in. He waved casually at the balcony. “They’s out there. You’re both asked to join them.” Then he directed us both to bowls of clean, scented water to clean up with. Isabela claimed she was old and experienced enough now to enjoy the finer things again. Though, what she'd meant by 'again', I'd never asked. I didn’t like the haunted look she got in her eyes.

Once Varric and I were ready, we went through the open glass doors to join a more subdued party already in progress. A massive selection of foods and drinks were spread out on a low table. The cushions Isabela preferred to chairs surrounded it. The shush and pull of the ocean sounded along with the crackle of torches along the edges of the balcony. Dusk settled into night and my shoulders slumped. I’d have to wait ‘til morning to ask for Isabela’s help.

Lantern light gleamed off of Isabela's slightly greying dark brown hair. Next to her sat her beloved, Merrill. Who sat next to a rogue, by the weapons stacked neatly within hand's reach, with a jagged smear of red across their nose, eerie blue eyes, and blue-black hair. A blond mage, by the robes, with whiskey shaded eyes sprawled on one side of them and the rogue played with his hair. Isabela’s spoiled white cat rolled and begged for attention on his lap.

The rogue sat on the lap of a white haired elf with dark skin, green eyes, and silver lyrium tattoos I recognized. Fen'ris and I had worked a few missions freeing enslaved Tevene Elves together. The rogue must be Hawke, then, which made the mage Anders. Good thing Isabela didn’t pay much attention to any law but what she made. Last I’d heard, the Chantry still had an incredibly high bounty on Anders. He was infamous. The three of them made an odd polycule. But they’d been together since the troubles in Kirkwall that had seen Hawke named Champion.

Varric was all beaming smiles as he greeted old friends. Isabela pulled me into the seat next to her, filled a cup with likely obscenely expensive wine, handed it to me, then said, “Pleasure first, young Lord. Or what’s the point of any of this?”

I shrugged. I needed the release anyway, and no one was going to be willing to talk disasters tonight.

I swore silently when I woke with my cheek glued to Isabela’s delicious ass, and my eyeballs on fire. Or perhaps replaced with molten lead. I vowed I’d never, ever, drink again. My mouth tasted like a diseased halla had shat in it. And was as dry as the Hissing Wastes. Yuck. My head pounded like the drums guiding an enslaved galley worker's strokes. I closed my eyes in utter misery as my gut lurched and I had to repress a groan. Why hadn’t I learnt to not do this to myself yet? Completely voluntary self-torture. It always seemed like a great idea at the time. Or was my only method to kill the pain and stop thinking. Regret like a layer of slime on my insides always followed at the inevitable results. Varric would just laugh at me for doing it to myself.  

Ah well. Wasn’t the first time I’d woken up in Izzy’s bed. Probably wouldn’t be the last. And I wasn’t exactly sure how I felt about knowing what a good kisser Hawke and their two guys were. Or knowing about that thing Isabela had told me Anders could do personally.

I eased carefully out of bed and dug through the haphazardly tossed clothes and weapons until I’d found most of mine. Then I visited the loo, cringed at my reflection, tied a loose knot in my long hair then went to raid Isabela’s kitchen. To my surprise, Anders was already up. His eyes danced with amusement at my blush and he gestured to a pitcher and shot glasses on the bar. “Hangover remedy.”

I made a beeline to it and slugged back a dose. My face heated again thinking about what he could do with his tongue and a bit of electricity magic. Who-boy. I couldn’t deny that last night had been wicked fun. My shoulders relaxed as the symptoms of my overindulgence faded. “Thank you. I’d hate to have to live with the consequences of my actions. Your recipe? It’s better than Isabela’s usual.”

Anders nodded as he petted Princess Pussykin Fluffbottom. Isabela was a lot of things, but someone who could come up with a dignified pet name wasn’t one of them.

“Merrill and Varric are out on the balcony. I’ll make breakfast as soon as a few more corpses stumble out.”

I snorted. “I got a look in the mirror. Corpse is about right.” Then I frowned. Sule'din’s too still form thumping me in the memory.

“Remedy not working?” He scritched Princess under her chin and she flopped over on her side to beg for tummy rubs in her fluffy, white, baby seal impression.

“Oh. No. Symptoms are all gone. I just… my sister was injured recently. I’m worried about her.”

“If I can help, let me know. I’m a healer, among other things.”

“I’ll have to talk to her… husbands? I guess?”

Anders quirked a brow at me. “You’re not sure if she’s married or not?”

I sighed and started detangling my hair. “It’s complicated. And new. But I appreciate the offer and I’ll bring it up. We aren’t quite certain why she isn’t waking up.” I nodded at him, grabbed an apple, and meandered out onto the balcony. Devouring the fruit got the worst of the halla shit taste out of my mouth. Seagulls dived after the core I tossed over the balcony edge for them.

Varric and a slim, black haired, green eyed elf sat chatting over coffee. “Och. What’ve ye done to yourself this time?” Merrill poured a cup for me and I shoved some of the detritus of last night’s party away so I could doctor it how I liked. She and Isabela had taken me in as a protégé of sorts when I’d officially joined the Lords. I’d thought, most of my life, that I’d be a finder and history keeper like father had been. But a stint as a Tevene galley slave had changed everything.

I’d escaped and Isabela had fished me out of the sea. She joked that I was her sea-gift. Ever since, Fortune had been more my home than my Clan. From there, when I wasn’t after treasure or on a bender, I helped free enslaved people from the same types of evil bastards who had captured me. I'd gone home, but it hadn’t felt like it anymore. It had broken Mamae's heart when I'd been captured. But she'd never understood my drive to help others. My heart ached at the old pain and the reason I'd never gone home again. They'd made it clear it really wasn't. 

Learning that Solas had been working closely with Dorian for what had sounded like a great deal of time to do the same thing would require me to adjust my perception of my sister’s beloved. But I just couldn’t stand Solas and didn’t want to give him an ounce of credit.

Isabela came out and stole a sip of coffee from Merrill’s cup. Then kissed the top of her head. Merrill tilted her head back for another kiss, then said, “Have fun, Vhen'an?”

“Mmmhmm. And I think we all needed it.”

I nodded as I sat untangling my hair. I… didn’t want to know what was making it sticky. I’d have to go to the bathing caves later. I gave up and knotted it in a pony-tail.

Isabela came over and sat next to me as the delicious scents of breakfast drifted out.

“Should I go help?” I muttered over the rim of my cup.

“Nope!” Hawke joined us and made a cup of tea. “Justice gets grumpy if people mess up his and Anders’ recipes. Fen'ris is keeping him company.”

“Oh, wonderful!” Merrill trilled. “I’ll just go watch the show. How you keep the three of them balanced is a mystery worse than the e'l'u'vi'an, and I haven’t heard them insult each other lately. I’m rambling. I’ll stop rambling.”

Isabela snorted but smacked Merrill’s ass as she walked by. Then she turned her attention to me. “No. You cannot have my Dumat.”

My shoulders drooped, it had been my best option for a base in the real.

“Ah, ah. No long face. I said you couldn’t have her. But I’ll let you and yours use her as a base and take you anywhere you need to go. Varric told us why you came last night. We’re somewhat aware of what’s been happening the past week. Though we’d like a bit more information. It’s why Hawke and crew are here. They’re volunteers, if you’ll have them. And the Dumat, being what she is, can give as many people staterooms as necessary.”

I choked on my coffee. “Turn down the Champion of Kirkwall’s, Anders’, and Fen'ris’ help? I’m not completely unintelligent, Iz.”

Hawke winked at me. In the distance I could hear Merrill giggling at the insults flying between the latter two. I busied myself cleaning up from the party last night while Isabela and Varric talked. We’d need room for breakfast.

Once everyone had eaten, I launched into the explanation of what had happened.

Fen'ris had a vastly unamused look on his face. “So I need to punch this Solas for this.” Then he held up his hand and a ball of fire appeared, hovering over it. A red ribbon wound around Fen'ris' wrist.

I snorted. “Good luck. I’m just glad it’s not me who’s in love with the freaky son of a bitch."

"At least you have Anders to teach you, love. Tevinter is melting at the seams with all the Elves having magic now.” Hawke played with their leftover eggs.

“I don’t,” I muttered, then crunched into a rasher of bacon.

Anders looked at me with a raised eyebrow. “You were using several of my tricks last night, so I highly doubt that, Rook.”

I blushed hotly. “Well. Shit. I really don’t want magic.”

Fen'ris sighed and growled before swearing in Tevene.

By which, I gathered he didn’t want it either.

Chapter Text

SOLAS  

'Vir'sumeil,' I said into Lahn's mind. (We're close.) He currently rode my wolf form. It had been a much faster method of travel. My ravens came to me, flying through the mist silently to circle around my head. Giving me their scouting report. 'They have found her.'

“Thank Falon'din and Dir'th'am'en,” Lahn muttered jokingly.

'Ha. I had forgotten how truly hilarious you can be.' I adjusted my course through the blinding white mist we travelled through. The construct of the Well of Sorrows had no sentience of its own, but it had been crafted to retain the spirits it housed. As far as it was concerned, Sule'din was another of those spirits now. It didn’t want, if it could want anything, to let her go. ‘We have arrived,’ I said softly, mind to mind, 'We need to be as quiet as possible when we approach her. If we scare or startle her, she may be likely to flee.’

Lahn snorted softly. “No. She’s likely to attack. You’ve forgotten much of her, Old Wolf.” He slid off my back.

I transformed into my Falon'din aspect. White hair, black eyes, silver and white robes, hopefully if she saw me this way, it would help her believe.  

SULE'DIN  

Happy, childish giggles rang loudly from the garden as I sat nursing our newest. He had his Papae’s purple eyes. He’d be a handful as he grew, I just knew it.

I raised my gaze to my two beloved guys playing with our older twin children. Lahn was playing halla for our eldest daughter. She pounded her tiny feet into his ribs and he obligingly crawled faster. I laughed softly to see such an intimidating person playing as a riding toy with an elfling. But they were so adorable together.

I slipped my nipple out of my baby’s mouth with a wince. Why did they always have to bite? He’d fallen into milky dreams and after I tucked my breast back into my loose blouse, I rubbed the tip of a soft cloth over his tiny lips to get the bubbles of milk cleaned up. He was swollen fat and content in my arms. I gently rubbed his full tummy.

On the opposite side of the garden, Solas sat with our younger twin, another girl, with Lahn’s platinum blonde hair and gold eyes. Solas carefully cupped her tiny hands in his as he showed her how to control her mage gift. She made an orange and blue butterfly out of magic and made it fly, to her sister’s happy giggles of delight.

Everything was simply perfect and I sighed in contentment. My sib Rook sat beside me, lemonade filled pitchers and glasses took up a small table between us. I frowned. Something… tugged at me. I tried to ignore it, but it grew stronger. “Rook? Hold him for me, please?” Rook happily took their nephew from my arms and settled the sleeping babe against their chest. Odd for Rook, really. They disliked children. I stood and looked again at my guys and our children. They filled me with such happiness. If only the fog would clear off and let some sun in…

Something tugged at me again, snapping my head around. I turned and reluctantly walked toward the mist that surrounded our home like a blanket of softest halla wool. It went against everything I wanted, to follow that tug. I tried to turn back, to go and sit down next to Rook again. But the tug grew stronger. I summoned my staff and walked more quickly. I’d just take care of the problem, whatever it was, and get back before the babe woke.

I hesitated at the edge of the mist, foreboding worming through me. I’d never stepped foot into the white since waking up one morning to it surrounding our home. For some extremely odd reason, I’d never investigated it. I frowned and looked over my shoulder again at my little family, enjoying the gardens I’d built. I longed to just turn around and go back. The tug sharpened. In frustration, I muttered, “Fine, I’m coming.”

Then I stepped into the mist. I walked until I couldn’t see my home and family anymore. Until the mist completely enclosed me before I stopped. Relieved and confused. “Lahn? What are you doing out here? You were just playing halla ride with…”

He came closer to me and took my hand in his. “Sule'din. Ma Vhen'an. What you have here isn’t real. This is the deepest level of dreams, of the Deep Fade. The mist is the Well of Sorrows trying to keep you here.”

I pulled my hand out of his. “No. That can’t be.”

“It is, Vhen'an. Your body lies in uth'en'e'r'a and you have been lost. Your mind has dreamed a perfect place for you, but it’s not real.”

“I would have sensed something.”

A slightly glowing figure stepped out from behind Lahn and my knees went weak. “Falon'din.” My brow wrinkled, there was something about Falon’din I knew, something important I should remember. Why couldn’t I clearly see his face? It was like staring into the sun to try. I almost bowed to him, like a good Dalish should, but something stopped me. I frowned and reached up to touch my face, I wasn’t a good Dalish anymore. My vallas'lin were gone, the slightly raised edges of the design no longer met my fingers. And it had something to do with why I shouldn’t bow to Falon’din.

I shook my head. “I’m exhausted. The baby kept me up all night. This is just my mind playing tricks on me.” My heart raced like I ran from a terrible monster. I shook my head. “Just fatigue. I’m used to that. I’ll just go take a nap.” I turned away.

“Vhen'an, please. Come home to us.” Lahn’s voice sounded desperate.

“Sule'din.” I froze. It sounded like Solas stood next to Lahn now.

“Sleep deprivation is a terrible thing,” I muttered. I took another step toward my garden.

“Vhen'an. Think. What do you remember? Did you wake one morning and everything was perfect? Do you remember giving birth to our children? Of us holding your hands while you laboured?” Solas’s tone felt heavy, somehow.

No, but it was common for people to forget childbirth, wasn’t it?

Cold rain splattering all around me made me shiver as I stood next to Lahn, both of us wearing Sentinel armour. I shook my head and pushed it away. That wasn’t real. I took a step in the direction of my home. Where I truly wanted to be.

“Do you remember choosing to save Rook?” Lahn’s voice held quiet grief and fear. Why was he afraid? We had everything we needed here.

“No, I… Rook hasn’t ever needed saving by me. All they do is explore old ruins.” An ara'v'el of ice shoved into my heart. I gasped and bent over with my hand on my chest. I pulled my hand away. Nothing. No wound.

“Please, ma Vhen'an. Come home with us.” Even Solas sounded worried.

I shook my head and took another step. Solas worrying about me. That was rich. Now I knew they weren’t real. I just had to get back to the garden, and everything would be perfect again.

Solas’ distraught voice swearing viciously in ancient El'vhen and his arms around me for the first time in eight years.

“No. Those are nightmares. You’re just figments of my sleep deprived mind.” I took another step toward my garden. I wanted to be there so badly.

Heat trickling over my lips and tears searing the skin of my face, a hard surface under me, excruciating pain in my chest, and the brilliant, glimmering curve of a Fade bubble around us.

I lifted my hands to my head. Us, who was us? No. Nightmares. Just nightmares.

My choked, struggling voice… “Use. It. Tear the fucking veil down and save the world.”

The veil… the ritual… no! I took another stubborn step toward my garden. The baby would need me soon. I had to get back. And obviously had to get some more sleep.

“How long have we lived here, Sule'din? When did we move in? What are the children’s birthdates?” Lahn’s quiet voice held sadness. He knew he hurt me. Funny, Solas had always been more adept at that.

I hunched my shoulders, shook my head and pushed it all away. Maybe I should take that nap now. Rook could watch the babe for a while.

Burning, stabbing pain in my chest as I brokenly whispered into Solas’ ear. “Dir'th'am'en. Leth'an'i'vir. Solas. Falon’din. Wisdom. Whatever the fuck name you want to wear. I must go. Just like the deer in your legends. You cannot change that. When we pull this dagger, my life’s blood will flow. Heavy with the knowledge and power of the vir’abel'as'an.”

I frowned… and tears burned my eyes. No, no, no. The nightmares weren’t real!

Tears like that night. My voice, choked, halting to struggle for breath, and gurgling. My fingers tangled in Solas' armoured coat. “Nae, ma Vhen'an. Mala sule'din nad'as. (Now you must endure) Dir'th'ara'ma, Solas. Dir'th'ara lath'as. (May you learn. Learn to love, truly.) Ma’las ame’lin ne halam.” (I hope you find a new name.) A happier one. Ma ghil'an'a mir din'an, Leth'an'i'vir.” (Guide me into death, Leth'an'i'vir.) Atish'an, Solas. I hope you find a peaceful place."

I tried to cling to the fading shreds of denial. If I could just get back to my garden, I could rest, and the nightmares would just be nightmares again.

Solas’s voice held eons of sadness. “Sule'din. How many times have you called me an asshole since you woke up one morning, your life a too perfect dream?”

I broke. No, no, no. I didn’t want the nightmares to be real. I didn’t want to live in a world of emotional pain. I just wanted… peace. I fell to my knees, the pain in my heart dragging me down as my happiness utterly shattered under the weight of the truth. I bowed my head. My voice hoarse and jagged, I said, “Why couldn’t you have left me to my peace? I was so happy.”

Lahn came to kneel next to me. “Because, I love you. And the Sule'din I know would want to build that life of true happiness rather than dreaming it, while the people who love her mourned over a still body stuck in uth'en'e'r'a.”

I closed my eyes against the heartsick pain of my dream evaporating. I could still feel the precious weight of Solas’ son in my arms, and hear the giggles of Lahn’s daughter as she made a butterfly of magic.

Solas came to kneel on the other side of me. “We can help you get back, but it has to be your choice to come home. No one can make that choice but you.”

I looked up at him, my heart aching for what I’d thought I’d had. I blinked, startled. “Red? Your hair is red?”

He smiled that amused, subdued smile. “What colour had you expected?”

“I don’t really know. Light brown maybe, with red lowlights and perhaps blond highlights.”

He shrugged ruefully. “I am sorry to disappoint, but it has always been this obnoxiously bright colour. Part of why I kept it from growing in during our Skyhold years was because it makes me rather recognizable. At first, I could not understand how much of our world the modern one had forgotten. I might have worn it openly and none would have known me.”

“It’s not obnoxious. It’s gorgeous and I love it. I’m just surprised.”

I looked longingly in the direction of where my garden would be if I just dreamt hard enough. “Uth'en'e'r'a. I truly am in uth'en'e'r'a? It actually worked?”

Lahn put his hand on my back and rubbed it soothingly. “Currently, our three bodies lay in bed together. You in uth'en'e'r'a, us in deep trances while we searched the Fade for you. We thought you might be lost in dreams. Your spirit link to your body was so weak. We had to magically bond ourselves to you in order to find you.”

“I wanted it to be true, so badly.”

Lahn pulled me against him. “We can make it true, ma Vhen'an. It will just take longer than dreaming it into place.”

Solas sounded faintly hopeful. How could I still read the minuscule shifts in his voice and face so well? “Will you return with us, Vhen'an?”

I fought against the desire to stay. To live in a dream world. It was right there. Just a few steps away. Before I could give in to my weakness, I nodded. “Please take me home.”

Lahn helped me to my feet while Solas shifted into a gargantuan white wolf. His six eyes were the same in this form as his black one. This one also had scales. Lahn cuddled me close, then guided me to mount Solas. To distract myself from a sick, longing pain for something I’d never truly had, mind to mind, I sent to Solas, ‘This is not how I’ve imagined having my legs around you, I’ll have you know.’

Solas choked, coughed, then laughed in my head. ‘I want to ask how exactly you had imagined your legs around me and ask for a detailed description.’

I thought about it for barely half a second before sending one of my favourite fantasies of us together. Him inside me and my legs wrapped around his hips. Our bodies moving in sync, my back arched as I came around him.

‘Giving a wolf a hard on is not kind, Vhen'an.’ But his voice held deep amusement. ‘I shall treasure that fantasy.’

I blushed hotly. Lahn mounted behind me and wrapped his arms around me.

“How in all the worlds can a spirit be horny!”

He busted out laughing. “True desire isn’t just a physical thing, ma Vhen'an.”

Solas started walking and I leaned into Lahn. The way Solas’s shoulder bones felt against me might make things a bit awkward. I hitched back a little.

Solas chuckled wickedly in my mind. ‘I was so enjoying that. And imagining what you would sound like when you came.’

‘Wicked Wolf,’ I sent back.

‘You have no idea, Vhen'an. Exactly how wicked my thoughts about you have been for twelve long years.’

‘Fair is fair. Show me.’ I probably shouldn’t have asked.

He sent me an image of me pinned against the wall, my hands in leather cuffs attached to a hook, and Solas on his knees, holding my thighs up and wide spread as he tongue fucked me until I writhed and cried out for him.

‘Well. Now you’re not the only one with interest rushing to certain areas. Fuck me, Solas.’

‘You but need ask.’

“Great humping halla horns,” I muttered. “You’re going to drive me to distraction.”  

Smooth cotton sheets brushed my skin. And light played over my closed eyelids. Two battle hardened bodies cradled me between them. It was so close to how I’d woken up with my beloveds in the dream that I sighed in contentment. One after the other, they came back to themselves. I froze for a second, then said fuck it. “Neither of you is allowed to move for at least ten minutes barring something trying to eat us.”

I hadn’t opened my eyes yet, but the body on my left side was stiffer, and still wore a small amount of clothing. His scent confirmed it was Solas. Remembering everything I’d learned about him in the memories, I murmured, “I would never order you to stay against your will, Solas. If you’re uncomfortable, you don’t have to. I just enjoy how you both feel against me.”

“If you are certain you want me here with you both?”

There was something so fragile hidden under his words. I didn’t know everything about his history. But I knew enough to know I’d need to be so careful with him. He’d lived through millenia of trauma, betrayal, physical torture, emotional manipulation, and abuse. Gentle. Above all, at this point, he needed gentleness and acceptance from both me and Lahn.

My heart still hurt at the… everything… between Solas and I. But most of my anger had bled out of me with my words to him on the night I’d died. There were still remnants I’d have to work through, but it felt so right to be cuddled between the guys I loved that I pushed it aside. And as I’d recently learned, life was far too short to hold onto anger.

“I want you here, Solas. I’ve dreamed of being in this exact place for a long time.”

“Lahn?” His voice was still hesitant.

“Relax and enjoy the moment, Old Wolf.”

Slowly, Solas relaxed against me and it felt like soaring through the highest, most beautiful reaches of the Fade. I dragged Lahn’s hand across my belly where he always held it. Then snuggled close to Solas. Letting my head rest on his shoulder. With a slight shudder and the tiniest of sounds of pained relief in his throat, he melted fully against me. How skin hungry must he be after so many millenia with so little desired touch? I fell asleep cradled by my loves.      

Chapter Text

ROOK

Cleaned up and restored to my regular self, Isabela led the way from her private balcony to the docks. The Dumat rested alongside the pier made especially for her. A black water dragon nestled into a two sided dock. It had taken years to build, but Isabela had heaps of treasure, so she'd spent a lot of it on her dream ship. One that sailed under the waves as well as on top. A jagged fin on the ship’s back could either slice right through the hull of another ship, or be used as sails with some adjustments.

Princess Fluffbottom wasn’t happy in her travel basket, but she loved going under the waves, so Isabela always brought her along. I would go back to the Lighthouse to check on my sister and touch base with Lace and Neve, Varric would stay with the Dumat, but Isabela had suggested I talk Shay into joining us. The mage who had helped craft the Dumat and nominally kept it in working order. The Dumat was a miracle of dwarven craft, Rivaini sea knowledge, and powerful magic.

Apparently, they didn’t have a lot to do now that the Dumat was completely finished. Isabela had suggested I offer them a place on my crew. We’d see. I’d met Shay a few times and they’d always struck me as a bit lazy and self-centered. Though all the work they’d done on the Dumat made me reserve complete judgment. They couldn’t be that lazy. The Dumat never failed to awe me.

Hawke’s group brought up the rear. They’d travel with Isabela and Varric to Treviso. I had a contact with the Crows who might have someone willing to join us. Someone skilled in the art of killing could be very useful to our cause. I just hoped I had enough treasure to hire someone. The Crows were notoriously expensive to contract. And the contract on several Gods? Yeah. Maybe they’d work with me on a payment plan.

I stepped down the polished wooden stairs into the open, metal doors of the Dumat. I shivered. Every single time, it felt like walking into the maw of a dragon. Which was, as Isabela had informed me, rather the point. The magical weapons pointing out of the Dumat’s mouth could be seen through clear, enchanted glass as we walked down the throat of the dragon. We bypassed the bridge and gathered in the lounge. Trust Isabela to have a ship that could not only go under the waves, but was luxurious enough for the Divine.

“Shay will likely be abed,” Isabela said. “Just steady yourself before you open the door, even after they call.”

“Are you trying to get rid of a problem?”

“It would help for Shay to have something to do.”

“So, yes.”

“They’re an excellent mage.”

“Am I going to need to be aware of anything?”

“Shay is very into consent and choice. They won’t be a problem in that sense.”

“Iz?”

“Their brothel bill is getting out of hand. It’s part of the contract we made but blessed Andraste's knickers!”

I snorted then laughed. “As long as they listen to consent, hopefully it will work out. We do need the help.”

“Oh for…” Isabela bent to let the extremely loud Princess Fluffbottom out of her containment. The white fluffball immediately stalked off to groom some dignity back to herself.

Hawke and crew disappeared down a passage to claim some rooms. I went down another Isabela pointed at while Varric made himself comfortable in the lounge. Why wasn’t he leading this shit show? I wasn’t… I didn’t… my heart raced and I paused for a moment, my head spinning. I leaned against the metal wall and calmed myself. I wanted anyone but me to be the one calling the shots. Except Solas, maybe.

Once I’d steadied myself I made my way to Shay’s quarters. I passed a string of satisfied sex workers leaving their room. Hopefully, they wouldn’t expect that kind of generosity from me. Me and mine were already accepting more help than I felt comfortable with. Especially from Solas.

I knocked despite the reek of sex coming from Shay’s room.

“Come in, Rook.” Their voice was a lilting soprano now, but might be a rich bass later.

I didn’t know how they did it. I’d never seen any of my family use transformation magic so easily, but Shay shifted forms probably more often than they changed clothing. I opened the door. Shay still lay in a tangle of sheets. They looked extremely female right then. Curves and softness on display, strategically draped with sheets.

“Mmmm. Rook. You just grow better looking and more tempting every time we meet." Their eyes gleamed amber under a fall of dark hair. Cool, brown skin reflected gold candle light. “Care to join me? I can do so many things you’ve likely never experienced.”

The temptation was there. I’d be a fool to deny it. But my unruly libido wasn’t why I’d sought them out. “Not just now, Shay. I have a job offer. I’d like to--”

“Oh. That. Yes. I’ll join up and carry my weight and respect consent and all those niceties. I’ve been waiting for you to ask.”

“How did you—

“Magic, of course.” They gestured to a scrying bowl on an altar in front of a mirror. Then they ran a teasing hand down the front of their body. From between a set of extremely luscious breasts down their curved belly to rest between their thighs. “You’re sure?"

I cleared my throat. Okay. The interest was definitely there. “Not now Shay. I’d like to get back to my sister. She’s been ill.”

Shay sighed. “Your choice. And she’s lost, not ill.”

“How…” Shay just raised a dark eyebrow at me. “Right. Magic. I’ll leave you to um, get dressed.”

They smirked knowingly at me but I closed the door and fled. I paused in the hallway to get myself under control again. Oh… that was going to be a problem. But a mage powerful enough to build the Dumat could be very helpful. If they didn’t tempt everyone into an orgy while the world burned. Ugh.

Chapter Text

SULE'DIN

I sat on the edge of the bed in an Ar'lath'an era nightgown from our room at the temple. Lahn had made a trip to get some of our things. The front draped in a way that accentuated my breasts, and the sides trailed open from the hips down. I glared with determination at the tufted dark green seat of the dressing table that had replaced the bier on the other side of the room.

I dragged myself to standing with the post of the bed. Summoned my staff, and used it as a crutch to help me balance my weak ass long enough to get to the dressing table, and the mirror. There were odd scar like marks on my face, and I needed to see what they were. I flopped into the seat like a dying fish and fought to get my racing heart to calm the fuck down.

Then I looked, and recoiled in horror. I looked like a performer in the Orlesian court. Silver lines trailed from each corner of my eyes to my jawline. I turned my head enough to see the wider lines slanting from the outer corners of my eyes to my hairline across my temples. I reached a hesitant hand up to touch them and yanked my fingers away. The lines were so sensitive they were almost painful.

“Sule'din. You should be in bed.” Lahn carried our lunch tray and pushed the door closed with his foot.

“Well. You all kept ‘forgetting’ to bring me a mirror.”

“We were waiting until you were well enough. I was afraid it would be a shock.”

“I look like a painted jester!”

Lahn settled the tray on the table and came to crouch beside me. “No, ma Vhen'an. You look like some of the most beautiful statues ever created in ancient Ar'lath'an. Only the finest sculptors were allowed to work with lyrium infused stone. There was one called ‘Loss’ that stood in the entranceway to Mother’s palace that I loved. She had markings like yours.”

I looked away from his earnest eyes and back to the mirror. “You find this beautiful?”

He chuckled. “To be fair, I always find you beautiful. But yes, I also find them aesthetically pleasing. I don’t have that particular ability, but if you asked Solas, he could likely show you what the statue looked like.”

I shook my head. “I don’t want to bring bad memories to the surface. I’ll just take your word for it. They’re so sensitive they sting. It’ll take a while to adjust, because I’m pretty sure you’d have tried to get them off for me while I was mostly dead.”

“Only because I wanted to make sure you woke up clean, and dry. But no, they won’t come off with scrubbing.”

I sighed. “I guess I’ll get used to these scars just like all the others.”

“They simply tell your story, Vhen'an. Like your tattoos. A part of you that make you more beautiful.”

I turned to lace my arms around Lahn’s neck. “I do believe you may be a love addled fool. But if you’re fine having an Orlesian puppet as a beloved, I’ll just try to ignore them like all the others.” I leaned down and gently kissed him. “Ma serrana, ma Vhen'an.”

He rubbed his nose against the tip of mine. “For what? Telling you you’re beautiful? Because I could happily spend much of my life doing just that.”

“Just… for everything. For being you. For loving me.”

“For that, you’re very welcome. Are you hungry?”

I eyed the tray warily. “That depends. Who cooked? You didn’t let Rook near a kitchen, did you? They almost burnt down three ara'v'els the last time they tried to learn how to cook.”

“Oh, that must be a story. But no. Rook and crew are off in the real. I cooked. It’s stew with fresh biscuits. Because, like Rook, and despite his many other gifts, Solas can’t cook worth a damn.”

I snorted. “Just let me get to the table.”

“I can carry you, Vhen'an.”

“And I can walk. Albeit very slowly and incredibly wobbly.” I flopped breathlessly into my chair and sent my staff to the corner of the room. Then spread a napkin on my lap.

Lahn spread the food out and put the tray to the side.

I waited until he’d looked up at me before asking, “Is it average to be this weak after coming out of uth’en’e’r’a?“

His eyes answered me before he slowly spoke. “No, Vhen'an. It’s not. Solas would like to examine you to see if he can tell what’s wrong. You might normally have been weak and disoriented for between a minute and ten. Depending on how many times you’d been through the process, and how long you'd slept.”

“It’s been several days.”

Lahn’s mouth turned down. “Which is why we’d like Solas to examine you. He’s always been a gifted healer.”

A sad half smile lifted my lips. “He’s healed me many times. I don’t mind if he wants to take a look at me. He can come in whenever he has time.”

“I believe he’s reorganizing his study to give himself something to do, so he can come up after lunch if you’re comfortable with that.”

I snorted softly. “He’s so lost, isn’t he?”

Lahn nodded, swallowed his food, then said, “He truly didn’t expect to still be here.”

“And you’re willing to work for a triad with the three of us? I’ll survive if you aren’t. You make me incredibly happy all by yourself.”

His eyes warmed. “Silly el'vhen. I love the foolish wolf, too. I have some work to do, to fully forgive him.” He looked down. “The legends about Falon’din are true enough. After M'y'th'al chose to support Elgar’nan in enslaving El'vhen, after a war, Solas rebelled. He burned her vallas'lin from his face and showed himself as only Dir'th'am'en or Falon’din for four centuries or more. He… became something he never wanted to be. He attracted worshippers, and more. Some of the myths are true. He stopped listening to me, to Fel. Fel'as'san and I were forced to betray him. We ran him through the back in one of his temples." Lahn’s eyes were haunted. "We were the only ones who could get close enough to him. Because he trusted us."

Lahn slowly ate a few more bites. “Solas told me recently that he thought if he acted as the others, that he'd hoped he could understand and find acceptance for M'y'th'al’s decree that all El'vhen should be bound to an e'v'an'u'ris. I know he hates what he became. And regrets his deeds. He’s mostly forgiving of our actions that brought him back to sense. To listen to his own wisdom. But I… he forced me to betray the person I loved most in the world. I wielded the blade even as it broke my heart to do it. I will work on forgiveness. But the pain of that has never eclipsed my love for the stubborn ass. All that to say… yes. If it’s what you want too, I’d like to work for a triad between the three of us. It’s just… likely to be rough going sometimes.”

“We’ll all have work to do. You don’t need to answer, if you’d rather I ask him, but how… did he become what he is? Three distinct personalities within one body? I’d guessed some of his secrets before drowning myself in the Well…”

“I’d rather answer than have you bring it up with him. It’s probably one of his worst memories.” Lahn paused, playing with the leftover crumbs of our lunch. “The short answer is incredible abuse when he was a newly born e'v'an'u'ris. The long answer… well. It probably seems as incestuous as fuck, the legends of Ar'lath'an. But the e'v'an'u'ris. Those born from a spirit bonding with a sacred lyrium body, weren’t related in the sense most people now would think of. But M'y'th'al and Elgar’nan enjoyed playing Mother and Father. So anyone they brought through from the Fade for a body, was expected to be their child or their sibling.

"Solas is M'y'th'al’s first born. In the sense that he’s the first spirit she coaxed from the Fade to bond with a body. As such, he is her son in the ways of Ar'lath'an. Although she rarely treated him as one. And there’s no blood relation between them like there is for me. But she wanted and crafted a potential advisor. Not a family member to love. I don’t think M'y'th'al capable of love. She bound three spirits into one form. And branded the body with vallas'lin before he became coherent. It was utterly reprehensible. By then, they all knew that it was a one spirit per body thing. They… melded. Sort of. The three spirits she coerced into the body.”

“’He did not want a body. But she asked him to come. He left a scar when he burned her off his face.’ Cole told us that once. Was it about Solas? And M'y'th'al?”

“Likely. Solas was a wisdom spirit. He took the name Solas as a warning to himself. So he wouldn’t turn into Pride. Dir'th'am'en was a knowledge spirit, and Falon’din a spirit of guidance. They each look different when one is ascendant. You saw Falon’din in the Fade.”

“What little I could actually see of him.”

“Dir'th'am'en is all shadow, not much easier to see. It’s probably why Solas is the one in the… front, I guess. Most of the time. They communicate mentally, but it’s always all of them we’re speaking with.”

“There was a horribly abused child my clan took in who had a condition like that. It’s not a big deal to me. And it’s not like I don’t understand what having invisible people talking to me feels like.”

Lahn snorted. “Hearing something as sacred as the vir'abel'as'an relegated to ‘invisible talking people’ is inappropriately hilarious to me.” His grin was infectious.

“If you can help me to bed, I’ll try to stay awake while you go get Solas.” Lahn helped me into bed and left carrying the tray full of dishes.

Chapter Text

SOLAS 

I stood in front of Sule'din’s door like a nervous school-child. I took a deep breath and knocked. I could pretend to be a cool, calm, professional healer for long enough to examine her. It was just another role. One I’d played many times.

She called and I answered. I paused on the doorstep. I’d expected Lahn to be there too, but he was suspiciously absent. Only Sule'din was in the room. She lay in bed reading a book, and I’d rarely seen anything as breathtaking as her joyful smile. A smile only for me. It froze me like prey for a moment.

“I wondered if you’d kept it.” She nodded at my tunic.

I’d worn it, and several similar ones, in Skyhold. “Ah. Yes. I prefer to dress more simply if I have hands on work to accomplish.” She’d completely scrambled my brains with that smile. I shook it off and closed the door, before approaching the bed.

She set her book aside and said, “How do you want me?” Then heat rose in her cheeks like a wave.

The corners of my mouth lifted. “So many ways, ma Vhen'an. I have an incredible imagination.”

She snort-giggled and clapped a hand over her face as she’d always done. She hated it, but I thought it utterly charming when she did that. “I didn’t mean like that.”

I couldn’t repress my smile. She’d somehow always had the power to make me smile. “However you are comfortable is fine. I only need briefly touch your hand.”

“Well, that’s disappointing.” Mirth danced in her gorgeous eyes.

I had to clear my throat and then I sat on the bed next to her. She gave me her hand. Fascinated in that artistic way, I turned it over and traced the lines and calluses on her palm. A warrior’s hand, a lover’s, a mage’s, a scholar’s, a friend’s. When I glanced up, her eyes were closed and deep pleasure painted her face.

“I love it when you touch me,” she murmured. “I miss the nights when I couldn’t sleep and you would let me snuggle close while you told me stories and illustrated them with your magic for me. Those were some of my favourite times at Skyhold.”

“They were mine too,” I said quietly. I took a deep breath and mentally scanned her body for hidden wounds or weaknesses. Her body seemed fine with a surface scan. “What are the symptoms other than extreme weakness?”

“Breathlessness, even just walking across the room. Dizziness if I try to do too much. My heart hammers like a galley’s drums if I try to walk far.”

“This might feel odd.” I delved deeper, my eyes closed so I could concentrate on my healing energy. I found the core of her magic, and the connection to the Well of Sorrows. The lyrium connection was… cracked, shattered along the surface like fine porcelain treated poorly. Spirit light leaked through the cracks. Sule'din’s body, and her mana well were fine. She should be completely healed. Except that rather than a single link as it likely had been before, like most magical constructs, the Well had sent tendrils all through her body as if searching for something.

I pulled my awareness back. She had almost no lyrium in her blood at all. Mages generally had far more than most people. It’s why we could ingest lyrium without dying. And how we could work magic outside of the Fade. And when she’d bled… it had sparkled with silver. Just like it should’ve. The Well was searching for something… to repair its link with her. And it was sucking her dry of her lyrium stores in lieu of what it needed. Eventually, she wouldn’t be able to cast magic at all. My guts clenched at what I was pretty sure she needed. I wanted a second opinion, but Imshael was nowhere to be found when I needed them. As usual.

But we could at least give her lyrium supplements to help her until I could find their wandering ass. I wanted so badly to be wrong. “I am going to send some of my power into your centre, to check something. It will feel strange.”

“M’kay.”

I sent a trickle of power into her. The power M'y'th'al, in the form of Flemeth, had willingly given me to tear down the veil. She wanted her vengeance against Elgar’nan and the others far more than was rational. But as she’d used me for so long, I’d learned to use her, too. The Well sent frantically scrabbling fingers after M'y'th'al’s power. But it wouldn’t, or couldn’t, take it. I’d carried it too long and it had become a part of me. Oh, this wasn’t good. I still wanted a second opinion, but certainty filled me. Sule'din needed power from the maker of the Well of Sorrows to heal completely.

M'y'th'al’s power.

How Sule'din’s connection with the Well had crackled like thin ice under a boot wasn’t clear. We’d have to find out why and how so it wouldn’t happen again. I withdrew my senses.

“That’s not a good look on your face.”

“How do you manage to read me so very well? Incredibly few people can.”

She shrugged. “I just can. Everyone always called you cold or forbidding, but you’ve never been that way for me. I’ve always been able to read your facial expressions and tonal variations easily.”

I snorted softly. “I suppose it is good I prefer not to lie. You would have sussed it out disturbingly quickly.”

“Mmmhmm. Just like I did in Halam'shi’r’a’l. You’re an absolutely terrible liar, you know.”

I laughed softly. “I hate lying. It makes my soul feel so dirty. I learned alternative methods. You did not survive well in Ar'lath'an without a great deal of skilled deception.”

She tightened her hand around mine for a moment. “It’s true even still. Deception seems a part of the world. I’ve always hated lying, too.” She drew a deep breath. “What’s the bad news?”

“Your lyrium connection to the Well is crackled like poorly glazed pottery. I am not certain how or when that happened. You are still linked, but where a single connection should be, the Well has sent tendrils all throughout your body, like a network of nerves or blood vessels. It needs something to heal. But it is sucking the lyrium out of your blood to sustain itself. Which, is not good. Eventually you will not be able to cast at all. Luckily, we can treat that by giving you lyrium supplements until we find an answer to healing it.”

“What does it need to heal?”

“I truly hope I am mistaken. And I am going to search for someone to give a second opinion. One of M'y'th'al’s less well regarded siblings could help.”

“I’d rather you told me now than waited. With your mind, I doubt you’re wrong.”

I closed my eyes. “I want to be, badly, Vhen'an. But I believe it needs the spirit energy or magic of its creator to fully heal.”

“Well. Shit. And let me guess. M'y'th'al made the Well.”

I nodded and turned my gaze to Sule'din. “She did.”

“We’ll have to track down Flemeth. Morrigan told me she carried a spirit shard of M'y'th'al's.”

“M'y'th'al offered me the power she had spent so many millennia collecting, and Flemeth’s life, once my orb shattered like glass. M'y'th'al would not have let her host survive after. It was supposed to be used to take down the veil. 'Twas the only way. I never wanted more power.”

“You were working with M'y'th'al? And how is she even alive?”

I nodded.

“I never took you for a masochist.”

I snorted silently and ran a hand into my loosely bound hair. “I learned well, from her, how to manipulate. How to act, and hide my truest self. I was using her as much as she tried to use me again. Her desire for vengeance is overwhelming and consumes anything in its way. My motivation was to repair the damage that I had done. Hers? Vengeance on the other e'v'an'u'ris. But our goal was the same. The removal of the veil.

“If I know Lahn and some of the others at all, there are more of her spirit shards hidden around. In buried, forgotten places. Sealed so she could never reach them. A spirit rarely truly dies. It can be exhausted to the point of deepest unconsciousness. Or it can be splintered into many pieces. It may lose personality if sent back to the Fade, but it will eventually reform. I slept, in the Fade, for millennia after crafting the veil. Until I heard a friend’s death cry.”

“Oh, Solas. I’m sorry.”

I looked up in surprise. “Why? You did not know Fel'as'san, did you?”

Her eyes grew so sad, as if her heart were breaking. “Solas. I’m sorry for your pain at losing a friend.”

I looked down. “Forgive me. It has been a long time since someone has cared that much about…”

“You. Since someone cared that much about you?”

I just nodded. “Lahn and Fel were the last. It shocked me unbearably to see Lahn at the temple. But I never sought him out after I left the Inquisition. My path was set. I did not want to cause him more pain by finding him, only for him to have to see me die. Again.”

“How is it you have a body now? Did you craft a new one?”

I shook my head. “I never would have trespassed so. The bodies of e'v'an'u'ris were crafted from pure lyrium, which is the blood or tears—”

“Of the Great Dragons and the Titans.”

“Of course, yes. We went into the deep roads and beyond. I had forgotten the trip.”

“Forgotten? You?”

I blew air through my nose. “I put all my memories of my time with you away, in a place I carried deep in my heart. I would never have been able to walk away and keep away from you otherwise. And even then, I could not completely stay away from you.”

“Silly Wolf. Please don’t do that again.”

I raised my gaze to hers and said, “I promise. Sule'din, I will never close you out again. As best I am able. Although, it will be difficult for me and you should know that. I have always had to hold... so much, knowledge, secrets... close to my chest or have them used against me. I knelt, completely broken on the other side of that el'u'vi'an where I had left you. And closing it all away was the only way I could stand up and move on to what I had to do.”

“I would’ve helped you. Held you. Comforted you.”

I looked down again. “It is why I had to leave you behind me, love. I knew I walked the din’an shi’r’a’l. I was not sure what getting ready for the ritual would require of me. I did not want you to see me as the monster I am fully capable of becoming. Comfort. Love. Acceptance.” I shook my head. “I had to completely focus only on the goal. And if you had not taken my place on that altar, I would have died that night. If I had allowed you to come with me as we both so wanted… I would have been too weak to perform my duty. I would have wanted, needed, to stay with you too much. It was not fair to you. Nor right.”

“No. It wasn’t. I’m a grown elf. I can make my own decisions. But… I understand.”

“I do not deserve—”

Lahn’s knock and entrance cut me off. He frowned and said, “Bad news?”

“How do you both do that so well?”

Sule'din snorted. “You don’t like it that we can read you easily, do you?”

I pursed my lips. “More that I am incredibly unused to it anymore. And I am not known as the Keeper of Secrets for no reason.”

Lahn sat down next to me on the bed and rested a hand on Sule'din’s legs.

I explained the situation to him. As I'd suspected, he said, “I know where quite a few of M'y'th'al’s spirit shards are. The last thing those of us who found her wanted was her pulling herself back together. They aren’t easy to reach, but we can get them.”

“How many will it take though? I really don’t want to become even remotely like M'y'th'al.”

I smiled, closed my eyes, and broke a piece of our spirit off. I opened my hand. It sparkled like a gem. “Put this on your tongue. It will melt.”

She frowned but did it, a smile breaking out on her face at absorbing the love for her I’d put into the shard.

“Do you feel more inclined to keep secrets, offer guidance to the dead, or feel much wiser?”

She smiled at me. “No. Did you choose what to put in it?”

I nodded.

Her gaze softened. “So absorbing spirit energy like that, from broken shards… I might get memories or emotions?"

I nodded, then said, “It almost immediately becomes a part of who you are. Devouring a spirit is about the only way to truly destroy one. And very few people know that.”

She frowned and said, while playing with the edge of the sheet, “I can’t say I’m particularly fond of actually feeling M'y'th'al’s emotions or experiencing her memories,” she shuddered, “but if it will help me heal… it will hopefully be worth it.”

“Until then, lyrium?” Lahn frowned. “Have any in stock, Old Wolf?”

“The wine cellar. I will show you. We will have to experiment to achieve the correct dosage. Sule'din? When you have the energy, you could query the Well of Sorrows. Ask for anything about a mage being stripped of the lyrium we all carry in our blood. It was not common in the past, and I only found it in those who had been willfully harmed.”

She covered her mouth and yawned widely. “I’ll have to nap first. I’ve never been so exhausted in my life.”

I left and waited in the hall for Lahn to give them some privacy. It really wasn’t good news. But at least we had an answer. And things we could do that might be effective. I'd still send out that call for Imshael. It had been too long since they’d reported in, anyway.

Chapter Text

ROOK  

“There it is,” I muttered as we slowly approached the entrance hall of the Ossuary that should lead to the area where Lucanis Dellamorte might be imprisoned. Isabela and her Dumat had gotten us close to this sea floor prison, Shay's magic had taken us the rest of the way.

They gently pulled me back. “We’re here, so what’s in it for me?”

They smelled so good I couldn’t help but turn to bracket them between my arms against a pillar. “Mercenary thing.”

They grinned at me. “Always.” I’d been slowly learning about Shay. In the time since I’d recruited them, we’d also found an Elven mage willing to help with the ancient magic around the Lighthouse. I certainly couldn't expect the high and mighty Dread Wolf to get down in the dust and the dirt to repair things. But something in Shay’s nature… a dark part of me answered to it. I’d always had this darkness in me. This… willingness to harm. It had just been a tiny, sleeping kernal before slavers had captured me. In the time I’d been enslaved, harmed, bled, and abused, that darkness had become an almost alter ego. And the things I’d already had to do on this mission to save the world made it far too easy for it to take me over. I still held control, but sometimes, it clawed at me to get out. So much blood, death, and murder already on this journey. I laughed softly, the beast inside rising to theirs.

They'd chosen a femme presumed Elven form with light hair and eyes. I shuddered when they arched their back to press their breasts to me. Granted, I couldn’t feel them as well as I might have liked in my armour. They wore none. Just a wrap top and loose pants. A waist belt of pouches, and their staff. “What’s in it for you? Blood. Death. Destruction galore. These are Venatori. A splinter of their dying cult. From what information we’ve gathered, they’re keeping and torturing Lucanis Dellamorte as revenge for a mass assassination in Virantium. If we can get him out, his grandmother has contracted his service to us. I don't care if you rip them to shreds, roll in their intestines, or tear their heads off and dance in the blood spray. As long as that behavior is pointed at the enemy and none of ours it's perfectly fine by me. I encourage you to do as you will.”

Their hands wrapped around my armoured waist, and pulled my hips closer to theirs. “Mmm. You do speak my language, pirate.”

I laughed softly again. That growing darkness in me making my laugh sinister. “I’m a pirate, thief, and murderer, Shay. At the end of the day, that’s who I am. I can be quite vicious myself.”

They leaned closer, their breath smelled like spearmint and fresh blood. It oddly turned me on. “Anything to sweeten the deal?”

I smiled slowly and shook my head. “It’s not off the table. That you'll have to work for, but I’m not that easy.”

“Ooooh, a challenge. I do so love a challenge." Shay threw a lazy salute. "Reporting for duty! Sir? Madam? Do you have a preference?"

"Just Rook. Or they/them. I'm both or neither. Depending on the day."

"Mmm. Much like myself." They grinned ferally. "Shall we go on a murdering spree to rescue a ruthless assassin?”

I let out a dark smile full of malice. “Yes, we shall.”

Shay grabbed my hand to pull me along as they skipped toward the entrance hall doors.

Hawke, Isabela, M'e'r'ri'll, Fen'ris, Varric, and Anders assaulted the other entrances. In case our information was wrong and Lucanis was held elsewhere. We didn’t put it past the Venatori to murder whatever prisoners they held if an alarm was raised. They’d often done worse. And we didn’t want any of them getting away.  

I could’ve been superfluous in the search for Lucanis’s cell. I covered Shay with my bow, but they’d been completely serious about bathing in their enemies’ bodies. It was disgusting, and strangely erotic to see their petite, femme form coated with blood. They held an utterly delighted smile on their delicate Elven face as they committed atrocities like I’d rarely seen.

“This is the cell,” they quietly called over their shoulder. There wasn’t a single inch of them that wasn’t dripping scarlet.

I approached the oddly shaped cell. It looked like a twisted ice crystal. Obviously made of magic. It was clear on the level one would look through while standing. And the human inside moved with the kind of fluidity only extreme training and experience can give you. He watched me with dangerous, assessing eyes. They flashed a brilliant purple for just a moment. I moved to the opening they passed food through and leaned on the wall with my arms crossed above my head so we could see each other’s faces. “Lucanis Dellamorte?”

He spoke with a thick, sexy Antivan accent in a delicious tenor. “Who is asking?”

I had to shift my hips at the want burning through me. Damnit. I needed to get laid. First a mage I really didn’t trust, and now a ruthless assassin. Sule'din would tell me I had impeccable taste in potential lovers. And then I’d point at Solas and she’d grin and shrug. By the green, I hoped she’d be awake by the time we got back.

“Rook La'v'el'lan"

“La'v'el'lan, like—”

“Inquisitor La'v'el'lan is my sister.” I sighed. Would I never be out from under my sister’s shadow?

“What do you want?”

“To get you out of there.”

“Why?” Lucanis paced his cage like big cats kept in captivity.

“Caterina Dellamorte sent us. She said if we got you out, you might be willing to take a contract on some rather dangerous enemies.”

“What kind of targets?”

“Ancient, power hungry mages with disturbing god complexes. The Elves worshiped them as gods. Could be as many as nine.”

Just the corner of his mouth lifted behind a slightly scraggly beard. His hair fell in a finger combed mass to past his mid shoulders. His clothing was worn, but still tied in as close to perfect folds as he could manage. “You get me out, I kill mages for you?”

“Extremely powerful mages, but yes. That’s the contract.”

“We’ll need to get the vial of my blood. They use it to control me.”

“Anything else?” Potentially nine god-mages, I’d do quite a lot to recruit him. But he didn’t know that.

“I had a contract for the mage who runs this place. Calivan. I would request assistance in carrying it out. Before we leave. A Crow always completes their contracts.”

“That should be possible.”

“Contract accepted. The key to the cell is that disk on the wall.”

I looked to where he pointed, and Shay grabbed the disk and tossed it to me.

They hissed, “Twelve more coming.”

“Standard patrol. I’ll handle them.” Lucanis moved toward the door as I fit the disk in. It glowed, twisted like a key, and the door dissolved in a puddle of water that rapidly sank into the white sands.

I tossed him two of the blades I carried. “Surely you’ll leave us some fun?”

I moved to the door leading into the hall. I pressed my back against the wall. Shay did the same on the other side. Through opalescent, rainbow, magical barriers, like windows, ocean creatures swam peacefully by. The Venatori patrol came into the hall and we sprang into action.

Within moments, they were leaking blood into the sand and Lucanis had his back to the wall, mine pulled tightly to his front, and my own knife to my carotid artery. His cheek pressed against mine and his gaze had fixed on Shay. “Why do you have a desire demon working with you?”

I raised an eyebrow at Shay, who just shrugged. “I prefer choice spirit, myself.”

“Because they’re powerful, useful, and have sworn to harm only our enemies.”

He tightened his arm and dug the blade in just a bit. “I kill demons.”

Shay laughed merrily. “Ooooh, the Demon of Virantium kills demons? Sexy. Hypocrite. You’re an abomination yourself.”

A professional. Even shock didn’t make him loosen his grip much.

“How did you…”

Shay just lifted an eyebrow.

I seized the moment and pressed my butt back into Lucanis’s hips. I purred. “Is it even a romance if someone doesn’t have a blade to my throat within a few minutes of meeting me?” I tapped mine against Lucanis’s jugular.

He instinctively lifted his chin. “I’ve been in that cell for I don’t know how long. And I killed five to your four, some distraction might be excused.” He tapped me with a blade positioned perfectly to slide through the armour gap in my armpit to take my heart.

I put more honey into my tone and shifted my hips to rub myself across the front of his pants. “Some distraction, perhaps. But this much? Tsk."

I tapped his inner thigh, high up, my blade positioned perfectly to take his femoral artery. “Thirty second bleed out.”

He chuckled, so softly you almost couldn’t hear it. “Yes. I know. Mierda. Caterina, what have you volunteered me for this time?”

“Will you two please stop flirting? More are coming, actual demons set on murdering us this time.” Shay sounded both slightly jealous and very interested.

I chuckled softly and said, “Gentlemen first.”

Lucanis laughed that almost silent, way too seductive laugh and dropped his blades. I did the same. I wiped them off on a body’s cloak, sheathed them and readied my bow. This was going to be messy.  

Once through the el'u'vi'an to the Lighthouse, Shay immediately wandered off to the high floating tower they’d claimed as their own. Or maybe the bathhouse. I could hope for the latter. It wouldn’t be the first time they'd kept the evidence of their kills on them. Varric had stayed on the Dumat.

I guided Lucanis up the stairs, giving him the short version of everything. “A bathhouse stands to the left of the main hall. It has private rooms as well as the main, public bathing area. There’s a pretty powerful mage with red hair and purple eyes who owns this place and is letting us use it as a base. I wouldn’t piss him off.”

Even if I couldn’t keep myself from doing it. “You can pick any free space as yours. Let me know when you’re cleaned up and ready and I’ll show you how to get to Treviso. To see your family.”

Somehow, M'e'r'ri'll, Dorian, and Shay had installed an el'u'vi'an on the Dumat, so it had been quick to get back. The blood hadn’t even completely dried on Shay.

"Where do I find you?”

“Up the right set of stairs in the closest open hallway of the main building. Up a set of stairs. There’s a friendly spirit called the Caretaker who you can ask for anything you need. Just say the word Caretaker out loud and don’t murder it when it shows up.”

“My being an abomination doesn’t bother you?”

“My sister just married an El'vhen legend, the mages my people have worshipped for millenia as gods are back and rather pissed off. I apparently have a desire demon working for me, along with an elf skilled with ancient magic, who is just as likely to blow something up as fix it, her name is Bel'la'ra. Dark hair, gorgeous face, bright eyes. As well as a Tevene detective named Neve who kind of creeps me out with how quiet and observant she is. She's usually very well dressed. My bad call got my associate, a dwarf named Lace, and my sister badly hurt recently, so, no, you being an abomination doesn’t bother me. Just point any violence at the enemy and we’ll be fine. Shay will try to seduce you soon. They do everyone. They’re very respectful of consent, though, so if it's not something you want, just say so. Keep anything romantic separate from the ‘killing people’ portion of things as much as possible and we’re fine. Though, I’d be curious how exactly you becoming an abomination happened over a bottle of wine some night. Last I’d heard you weren’t a mage, and only mages get possessed.”

“There are other ways. Calivan’s boss, Zara Renata, liked to experiment with spirits and blood magic. My demon is Spite. Without him, I have the magical ability of a brick.”

“I wish I could say the same. Since the Dread Wolf brought the veil down, all Elves have magic.”

“A lot has happened while I was entombed by the Venatori.”

“That is an understatement.” I pointed toward the empty lodgings and the bathhouse before going up the stairs to my room. I generally preferred to bathe in private. Once people saw my sex they tended to treat me differently. Thedas had a ways to go when it came to those of us of different genders. Not so much in the acceptance part of things, most people were fine with that, but many had work to do in the being weird about it area.

I got cleaned up to go to check on my sister. I hoped she’d come back to us in the week I’d been gone recruiting people to murder the gods. I groaned and punched the dummy I’d asked for to release some of the shit going on in my brain. Punching the dummy was better than punching the wall, or someone else. Both of which I'd been dumb enough to do in the past.

I stared at the electrical burn in the shape of my fist on the leather. Torn sails, magic? I did not have time to learn to be a mage! Why was it me leading this clusterfuck again? And how the fuck had I not noticed that Shay was a demon? Why did I now have two demons working for me? Fuck me. I pulled a pillow over my face and screamed. Then I sat down and realized how bloody exhausted I'd gotten. My entire body ached. I reached to my nightstand, slugged down another healing potion, and almost immediately fell asleep. 

Chapter Text

SOLAS

I sat at my newly cleaned desk in my newly reorganized study. Looking everywhere for something I’d known the exact location of before I'd cleaned. Rearranging had been a bad idea. Apparently. Next time I got the urge to do something completely pointless, I’d go find Rook and talk to them.

I pursed my lips, sat back in my chair, and closed my eyes. I recognized Lahn's footsteps. He'd been intentionally walking louder than his average any time he was near me. The care both he and Sule'din showed me, undeserved as it was, made my chest warm, and fuzzy feelings almost overwhelmed me. A slight click and the scent of chocolate indicated that Lahn had brought me my favourite drink. I opened my eyes to see him standing with his back to me, a cup of tea in his hand, looking over one of the many maps I used to keep all the pie pieces in order.

My gaze caressed the long, lean muscles of his back under his simple cotton shirt. A memory of sunlight through leaves dappling his pale skin overwhelmed me. We'd been in an orange grove, on one of our clandestine meetings. The scent of oranges always reminded me of him. I enjoyed the memory for a moment before tucking it away.

Maps took up every wall space that bookcases didn't. Except for one wall where I'd painted a favourite memory of Sule'din. She'd been kneeling and talking to the herbs she harvested. Thanking the plants. It had warmed my heart that day in the Emerald Groves, and continued to do so every time I looked at it. Hmm. I could rearrange the bookcase on the opposite wall and paint a memory of Lahn there. The one from the orange grove was too erotic for my semi-public space, but I'd decide on another. Then my office would feel more complete. His voice jerked me out of my musings.

“You have so many new colonies.”

“I… yes. I had too much time to think, once I had… left Sule'din behind. Because I would not have been able to carry out my duty with her in my presence. The veil always had to come down. Thedas had, at most, another three hundred years before dying completely. But… the peoples of this time had become more real than those of the ancient past. To be truly honest, the past was rather awful in a lot of ways.”

“Very true,” Lahn murmured.

“In any case, I altered my existing plans. For the entire ten years of me preparing for the final rite, the agents I did not have on other things were building remote colonies for the modern Elves. On lands that had traditionally been mine but that I had also acquired the deeds for by today’s standards. When the veil went down, they would get their magic in full. From the… mistreatment Sule'din and I received during our Skyhold years, I knew that a race of newly magic possessing Elves would be ostracized for far more than our pointy ears.

"Hence, the colonies. Safe villages protected by my people and as many magical defenses as I and my mage-agents could find time to build, in between everything else. Over time, I will retreat further from them. As their need of me lessens more. My original goal… was selfish. I wanted to give the Elves back all I felt I had stolen from them. But today’s Elves, our great, however many greats grandchildren have different needs and priorities. A goal like getting the Elves to safety, training them to be competent with their new gifts, providing continual safety for them as they build whatever the future of what Elvenkind will look like? I could do that. So I did. With a great deal of help.”

“That’s the el'vhen I fell so madly in love with talking, you know.”

Heat rose in my face and I stirred my hot chocolate. “I want to be better than I am. I keep failing. And I will not stop trying. I am fully capable of being monstrous. But I choose what I will be, and it is not that.”

Lahn came over to perch on the corner of my desk. The lights from the wisps that always flocked to my study sent streaks of blue and pale green playing over his platinum hair. “They’re all admirable plans, Solas, and if I know you, not the only ones. You no longer need walk a lonely path. I’m as capable of becoming a monster as you. I have been one to many, many El'vhen while I served Mother. And I’d be willing to bet that Sule'din feels similarly. She doesn’t really talk about it but the things she had to do as Inquisitor haunt her. The dealings with the shem’s for money, especially. Being involved even a little with securing Empress Celene’s power… it gnaws at her. She understands what it feels like to be a monster. And many haven’t been kind because she dissolved the Inquisition.”

“I agree with the choice she made. It is incredibly difficult to keep a large organization free of infiltration.”

Lahn sipped his tea. “I do too. I just wish it hadn’t cost her so much, personally. She doesn’t like to leave the temple. She’s too recognizable.”

“We could fix that for her with an illusion charm. Do you want to carve some charms for me to enchant? Then she could enjoy public life again when she so desired to.”

Lahn nodded thoughtfully. “She probably misses her mounts and your paintings from Skyhold the most. All the mounts were sold to pay back investors. Along with everything else except Skyhold itself.”

He’d finished his drink while I savoured mine.

“So. Care to tell me why you’re wearing a Fel'as'san suit?”

I snorted. “Ask him. He insists on caretaking whatever base I am in. Just speak one of his names aloud.”

“Fel?” A glowing form phased through the walls of my study, slowly taking on the features of Fel'as'san. My brother-uncle. M'y'th'al’s least favourite brother. The one she’d played games using me as the tool for. His spirit didn’t have the vallas'lin that had allowed… everything.

The spirit smiled, eyes lighting up. ‘Lahn! He finally told you I’m here?’

“I finally asked, to be fair.”

Fel'as'san smiled a bit sadly. ‘It’s been too long, Lahn. Since just after Solas put up the veil, right?’

Lahn nodded. “Why is Solas in your body?”

Fel'as'san shrugged. 'I didn’t want to go back.' His gaze grew haunted and distant. 'I didn’t want to serve her any longer.' Fel floated to hover over my desk in a crisscross. I held out a finger and he touched it, taking the power I’d offered. His form thumped, now warm and solid, onto my desk. His shoulders curled in. 'Forgive me. It’s painful to talk about, especially because so many people who knew me blame Solas. M'y'th'al has not been idle these millenia. She’s split herself again, and again to gather power. She seeded each of her daughters with a piece of her spirit when they were born. Each meant to gather power for her. When she sacrifices them, she will regain that piece of her spirit and all the power they’d accumulated for her. If possible, it would be wise to stop her.'

He shook his head. 'She sent me on a mission. To claim the key to the el'u'vi'an network from a mortal elf named B'ri'a'la. That would’ve been fine, if B'ri'a'la hadn’t also been someone I’d mentored since she was young. I think M'y'th'al knew that. It was a test of loyalty. One she knew I’d fail.'

He traced his fingers over the worn surface of my desk. 'I believe in the Elves. They deserve a chance to build their own future. Just like we did. We destroyed our world, our time has passed. Whether it will be better or worse, who knows. But we weren’t any paragons of justice and mercy. I knew, even before I dreamed, that I’d die for what I'd refused to do. I tried to convince her, but…'

“Her pursuit of vengeance is all-encompassing, and her desperate desire to control anyone bound to her has reached wildly irresponsible levels. She cannot be reasoned with.” I trailed my fingers up the pottery of my empty cup.

'Exactly. If it had been Solas I served, as in days of old, he would’ve listened to my arguments at the very least. In any case, I dreamed to deliver my report to M'y'th'al. She didn’t even say a word to me before she attacked me. She just, likely intentionally, to punish me, didn’t finish the job. My body laying tranquil in a wintery forest and I still bound to it by threads of spirit link. It’s nigh impossible to destroy our links ourselves.'

“I woke when the sound of Fel'as'san’s death cry rang throughout the Fade. I had slept for millennia. I got to him as fast as I could. Only to find that the only thing he needed me to do was finish him.”

'Solas gave me the mercy M'y'th'al refused me. I just… didn’t want to go back to the real. I’ve been in and out of uth'en'e'r'a several times over the millennia. Waking only to serve M'y'th'al. Somehow, she repaired the discreet damage we’d done to her vallas'lin so I could help you two back then. I was just so exhausted. But my work of helping the Elves was unfinished. While he could've healed me and sent me back, I asked Solas for mercy and to take up where I’d left off.'

“From the memories Fel shared with me, I understood the damage I had inadvertently done to the El'vhen. I felt it my duty to return, to take down that bloody veil.”

'He makes it sound simple, but he shed tears of anguish when he severed the last few strands of my link. Knowing him, he thinks he betrayed me somehow. I experienced nothing but relief, nae, euphoria, to finally be free again, for the first time in millennia. I asked Solas to take my body. It was just going to get eaten by something. And it was a sacred lyrium e'v'an'u'ris construct, able to hold him and all his magical potential.”

“I acceded because a spirit without a body is not capable of doing a great deal in the real.”

Lahn sighed sadly. “I see. I should’ve known it was more complicated than anything I’d heard.”

Fel chuckled, sounding happier as a spirit than he had been as an e'v'an'u'ris for… too long. 'Besides, he looks like him now, anyway. We always did look much alike. The spirit forms the shell and all. My hair has never been so completely obnoxious. The only reason you likely recognized the body at all is because we burnt his original one and that teeny scar under his right eye where you punched me over that pretty el'vhen we both wanted.'

“We were both drunk,” Lahn muttered, “and you stabbed me back.”

Fel snorted. ‘True. And I apologized!’

Lahn sighed. “Mother modelled him after you.”

‘She did. What an amazingly wretched thing to do. Making your enslaved servant wear the form of your least favourite brother. Why she even allowed Elgar’nan to invite a spirit of curiosity to bind with a body still confuses me. She hated me almost from the first moment I spoke.’

“Her collection was not complete without one,” I murmured.

“Can’t deny that. She really was awful. Is awful. Yet people persist in worshiping her. The power she must have accumulated…” Lahn's voice held an undertone of unease in it.

“I have a great deal of it,” I muttered sourly. “Freely given, and polluted by some of her memories. I try to keep those deeply buried.”

‘Anyway, despite the pain it caused him when he bit my link in half, freeing me, Solas did as I asked. He took my body.’

“It hurt as bad as joining one the first time?”

I shook my head. “I do not remember the first time. But it certainly was not comfortable. It all happened about a year before I joined the Inquisition.”

Fel leaned back on his hands. 'So now, I’m happy to be free, my curious ass is able to serve who I really want to, Solas has a body, and apparently might actually get to use it for something other than dying now. Win for everyone.'

“Fel, please.” Heat rose to my cheeks. Much as I enjoyed the mental teasing Sule'din and I had continued with since the Fade… I’d not had sex in actual millenia. And Sule'din felt too precious a person to allow sexual jokes about.

He snorted. 'Fine, fine. Your pretty Lass shall be safe from my teasing. Rook brought another couple of recruits in. A legendary Antivan assassin, Lucanis Dellamorte. Grandson of First Talon Caterina Dellamorte. Since you just returned from the northern village, you may not know this yet.' Fel's eyes sparkled. 'You’ll never guess who else. It’s going to make keeping an eye on them when they’re in the real much easier.'

I sat back in my seat. “Shay?”

'Bloody balls, Wolf. You’re impossible to surprise!'

My lips quirked up. “Planning, old friend.”

'Yes, it’s Shay.'

“Good. They have not reported in recently enough. Most probably wallowing in flesh, one way or another.”

Lahn cough-laughed. “Well, it is their favourite pass time. It’s rather what caused Mother to banish them and erase their name from the records.”

I just tilted my head in a shrug.

Chapter Text

SOLAS

I hesitantly knocked on Sule'din and Lahn’s door. She called out and I went inside, quietly closing the door behind me. The suite smelled of Sule'din’s favourite incense. Musk, a high note of flowers, and an entrancing golden note of wood. It took me back to Skyhold for a moment. Her rooms had smelled like that the morning I’d kissed her. The remembered taste of her, sweet water, a hint of forest, and the deep, mysterious flavour of honey that bees made from working the flowering jungle around The Temple of M'y'th'al. It made me flick my gaze up and trace the shape of her lips. How could it possibly be that I lived? Only because of the stubborn, amazing, foolhardy el'vhen watching me with her clever eyes. How could it be that two people I cared for wanted me in their lives? It was so much to adjust to. I did not deserve life, much less something as good as what we all hoped for. I didn’t deserve anything that pure.

The smile spreading on Sule'din’s face halted.

Lahn looked up from the crafting table he worked at, carving the charms for our gift to her. “Going somewhere, Old Wolf?” Lahn didn’t put down his carving tools.

“I… yes. I must.”

“Fully armoured, hair braided tightly for fighting…” Sule'din put down the book she'd been reading.

“Danger is quite unlikely this trip.”

“Never lost the habit of being prepared for it, though, have you?” Lahn’s gaze took in my short staff on my back, and the other small items I habitually carried.

I shrugged. “As many times as it has saved my life, I would be a fool to do so.”

“Where are you going?”

“My destination is the ritual site.”

“I’d like my Sentinels and I to back you up.”

Lahn didn’t wait for my acceptance. I’d had a feeling he might want to. But his immediate offer of help, protection… it warmed my chest and made heat rise to my cheeks. He disappeared into the hall to ready his people and Sule'din patted the bed. I sat to the creaking of leather from my battle coat and let her take my hand.

“I wish I could go with you as back up, too. But at least you’ll have Lahn. I don’t like the idea of you alone out there. Not with your homicidal family running around.”

“Does it bother you that they are a little less amazing than your people’s history suggests? Are you… how are you taking it?”

She dropped her gaze and traced the lines on the palm of my hand. “It’s a lot. Knowing your identity, the things you told me in the Crossroads, and swimming in the memories of the Well prepared me, but it’s still strange. I worshipped, well, all of you, as gods my entire life. And it turns out that’s not so. Many of you seem to be megalomaniacal shitheads. I have the Well for answers, but how are the rest of the Dalish taking it? The other Elves? Who is answering their questions? The other e'v'an'u'ris won’t be silent for long.” She fiddled with the edge of my fingernail. “Will they try to take over the Elves?”

“It is likely. In my time, Elves, spirits, all people, were considered their personal property.”

“Some will serve them willingly. For a time, at least. Many of them will be Dalish. Our faith… their faith, is incredibly important to their way of life.”

“I would change the e'v'an'u'ris, were it within my power to. They were not all horrifically wretched. J'u'ne and Syl'aise mostly kept to themselves and helped the people sworn to support them. As M'y'th'al was a spirit of Justice. Elgar’nan, despite being known as Vengeance, is a twisted spirit of Freedom. I am, perhaps, one of the few who remember him as he once was. He has been Slavery and Tyranny and viewed as Vengeance for so long I doubt he can even recall who he was before, who the sun, his father, created him to be. Ghil’an’na’in and An’d’r’u’i’l have been inseparable since Ghil’an’na’in's ascension, but An’d’r’u’i’l's lust for the hunt led her into some horrifying places. Deep in the void. M'y'th'al fought her, took her memories to keep her from going back to the abyss, but it changed An’d’r’u’i’l. She became harsher, evil, would be the more accurate terminology. Ghil’an’na’in followed. As she always followed An’d’r’u’i’l. Always. Those three attacked us all the night of the ritual. I want to see if I can find a trail or anything to help me find them all. Rook will need all the help they can get from anyone willing to give it to them.”

Sule'din snorted. “I promise not to tell them you’re helping unless they really need to know.”

My lips tugged up into a smile. “That would be greatly appreciated, Vhen'an. They are a trial when they think I am doing nothing to help. I cannot imagine what a wretched pain they might make of themselves otherwise.”

She reached out her hand and hovered it over my cheek, asking permission. I pressed into her palm. She slid the pad of her thumb over my face, touching the edge of my mouth. Her gaze traced the shape of my lips and she sucked the edge of her bottom lip behind her teeth, biting gently.

“You should not abuse your luscious mouth so, Vhen'an.”

She smiled as she bit her lip harder before she said, “Oh? Why is that?” The teasing tone in her voice made it clear she understood how much I desired her. “I’ll spare you the visual of me stripping you out of your armour and distracting you so you wouldn’t leave.”

I shuddered at how much I wanted everything with her. Her touch, to simply... sleep... next to her. I'd not slept well in centuries. To talk with and hold her. Even the times we'd disagreed, or the single time we'd argued, I had always wanted her. Her scent all over me, her warmth clasping me as I sank into her. I shifted on the bed, I didn’t need to be distracted by my infuriatingly stubborn libido right then. “I must go. I wish also to look for a sample of your blood. I would like to compare it to a more recent sample, to see how much lyrium you had that night compared to our current time. It may be a fool’s quest, given the rain, but I would like to see if I can find anything.”

“Will you please be as careful as you possibly can be? We’re newly bonded, after all. I don’t want to be a widow so soon.”

That was the first time she’d mentioned the bond. Both Lahn and I had told her the same day she'd returned from her dreams. And answered any questions she’d had. I slowly lifted my gaze to hers.

Warmth mixed with concern, lingering wariness, and banked joy flickered in her eyes. “We can talk when you don’t have to go somewhere. But for my sake, Lahn’s too, please be careful.”

“I shall watch out for him, as well,” I murmured, the corner of my mouth caressing her thumb. The strongest urge to turn my head and kiss her hand filled me. But I didn’t want to overstep. I’d screwed up so many things in my life. I desperately feared messing this chance with them up. A chance I’d never even dared dream could be real. For them both, all of us, really, I wanted to be cautious; I had so much to make up for. I gently pressed her hand against my face, then took my leave.

“Like a dog to his vomit, the wolf returns,” grumbled a voice reminiscent of gravel grating against itself.

I looked up from gathering a dried blood sample of Sule'din’s. The altar had been custom crafted by my magic to exacting specifications. It couldn’t be anyone else’s. I tucked it behind my breastplate under my coat, stood and politely asked my magic to gather. Hoping by Sule'din’s love that I wasn’t about to make her a widow.

Lahn and his Sentinels, bows drawn and magic gleaming from Lahn’s staff dropped their seeming of invisibility behind and to the sides of me. I could wish he’d stayed hidden. He’d have been safer. But Lahn had always led from the front.

A barrel chested e'v'an'u'ris with the scars and burns of craft all over him stepped from behind a statue of himself. His skin gleamed a warm teak and gold earrings lined his pointed ears. Locs fell in a long, intricately twisted mass down his back. A blacksmith’s arms showed from his sleeveless tunic. “Peace, Wolf. Dir'th'adra, good to see you.”

“Uncle.” Lahn’s voice was cautious and he didn’t release his hold on his magic. He still waited, destructive and healing spells at the ready.

The el'vhen tilted his head. “I’m not surprised. I’m happy even, to find you with your lover. You two never could hide from me.”

“You are known as The Secretive One for a reason, J'u'ne.” I braced my hands on the altar in front of me, slowly sending magic into it. If the worst occured, I could explode it to give us a chance.

“Syl'aise and I had ample time to think, in the… accommodations… you arranged for us. We both agree that we’d gone too far. We’d like to vow ourselves to do what we can to fight the others and make recompense for our actions. Neither of us are more than basically competant warriors, but we can guide our people, without coercion, to build what yours might need. Should you wish it. The Dalish, I believe they call themselves, have many eager to serve one or the other of us.”

A slim, pale skinned, silver haired e'v'an'u'ris dressed in a cream gown embroidered with bold colours stepped out from her statue. She walked with floating grace to stand beside her lover. She interlaced her fingers with J'u'ne’s. “He speaks our truth, Wolf. Even if it had to take a spanking by our big brother to make us see reason.”

My shoulders relaxed a fraction. I sent a sneaky truth sniffer spell I’d designed back in ancient Ar'lath'an to test what J'u'ne and Syl'aise were saying. They were being honest, they really wanted to help. “We can use whatever aid you can contrive while keeping your people safe. For what it is worth, which is very little, I am sure, I saw no other way. It grieved me, I paid a terrible cost, and I am remorseful.”

Each nodded, then Syl'aise said, “In turn, I think I can speak for us both when I say we are sorry we did not listen to your warnings. Forgiveness will take time and work, brother. But I believe it possible for us all.”

“Elgar’nan, An’d’r’u’i’l, and Ghil’an’na’in are the ones we know will stand against us and for their ways. So far. There are the Forgotten ones to consider, to my knowledge, several have managed to return. I have an agreement with one. I highly doubt An'a'ris could be turned to our side in any way,” Lahn subtly flinched beside me. My gaze dropped for just a moment before I slowly said. “You were unsuccessful. M'y'th'al lives, diminished, she likely had time in all the millennia to craft a new body for herself. She is… obsessed beyond reason with revenge upon all of you who were involved in her sundering. You may wish to be extremely wary.”

“The warning is well received.” J'u'ne’s gaze dropped. “You are both well?”

I shook my head for a moment. “I slept, for many millennia after…. I have been back in the real for around twelve years. The world is about to start burning down around us courtesy of our broken family. But yes, personally, I am more well than I have been in a very long time." My gaze slid slightly as if to look at Lahn, but I stopped myself. Just not in time.

J'u'ne’s mouth spread in a wide grin. “Are congratulations in order? Did you two finally bond as you’ve likely always wanted?”

Lahn said, “That is complicated. And private… for now, Uncle. Aunt.”

Syl'aise’s voice rippled with delight like a crisp mountain stream. “Oh come. It’s as obvious as the nose on both your faces. Congratulations.”

“How am I so unpracticed in hiding everything?” I muttered.

Lahn stood not far from me. “It’s J'u'ne. A fly could walk across a Titan’s arsecrack and he’d find a way to ask it how many children it had.”

“The Titan or the fly?” I muttered back at Lahn, fully aware our kin could hear us.

“Both,” J'u'ne said, then laughed that booming laugh that so delighted Syl'aise that she chuckled, too. “We shall take our leave. But… you may count on us, as family should be able to do.” Syl'aise bowed her head, J'u'ne did the same, then they went to their particular statues, crafted in the ways of old for the ritual, and stepped into the stone.

E'v'an'u'ris. Spirits bound to sacred, pure lyrium bodies. The children or grandchildren of the world, Alas, the Sun, and the pure spiritual embodiment of emotion, had learned much from our earthly grandparents and our siblings, the Titans.

Before we’d sundered them at M'y'th'al’s, their sister's, behest. And thus broke the world.

Chapter Text

ROOK

I went to see Sule'din the next afternoon. I'd lost more blood than I'd thought from one of my healed wounds while rescuing Lucanis. I'd bathed, drunk another healing potion, then fallen asleep for a solid eighteen hours before I could go check on her. Rested up and fed, I ran down my stairs and, listening carefully so I wouldn’t plow over anyone, I raced down the hall, throwing a tumble, cartwheel, or a dive roll every few steps. Sule'din had always teased me for the habit, but leaping, jumping, running, catching myself, even picking myself up from a fall had laced inextricably across my body and mind. The physical activity helped control my emotions a bit, like it did Papae's. I’d been doing it since I was little and the well-practiced skills had saved my life a few times, so I wasn’t minded to change it. I pulled up, not close to winded, opened the tower door that led to the third floor, and still listening, I raced up the dim stairs as fast as I could.

Only to ram face first into the collar bones of a silently moving wall.

An ‘oof’ escaped me even as a pair of strong arms wrapped around my waist and pressed me close to a hard chest so we wouldn’t go flying. The scents of oranges, old blood, wood shavings, Sule'din’s incense, and leather clued me in to who it might be and I silently enjoyed the tingle of pleasure rushing through me like good liquor. I gave him a hug in thanks. I’d always had a bit of a crush on Lahn, but I’d never done anything about it. Sule'din would likely have been okay with it, siblings often formed relationships with the same people in Dalish culture. If we’d ironed out any wrinkles, and if Lahn had returned my interest, but I absolutely did not want a relationship with emotions attached. And Lahn was a ‘settle down and love you ‘til your eyes crossed’ type.

Smiling fondly, I looked up, half-laughing, it wouldn’t be the first time Lahn had caught me when I'd run into him. The el'vhen moved like a shadow. Except, instead of faintly glowing gold, my gaze met gleaming purple. Our lips were close enough that we could’ve easily kissed. Startled knowledge at the heat we obviously both felt flickered in Solas’ eyes and I recoiled so fast that if he hadn’t been holding me, I’d have probably had to tumble painfully down the stairs.

“Fuck. Um.” How to extract myself from this situation and the arms of a guy I loathed with any dignity at all escaped me. I should apologize for not seeing them coming down the stairs. But I’d go live in a decrepit alienage in some shem ghetto before I said a pleasant word to Solas. Much less apologized.

Lahn’s laughter filled gaze took in our predicament. Then he leaned against the wall on his shoulder, said shoulders shaking with amusement.

The not distractingly delicious warmth of Solas’ hands should absolutely not send a rush to my… everything by simply holding my waist to steady me. His breath held the aroma of oranges and sweet chocolate and we both stood in shock, our gazes locked to each other’s, before pulling our heads out of our asses.

He stepped back and to the side on the wide riser, confirmed I had my balance, then dropped his hands as if touching me burned him. Jerk. Not that I felt any differently but he didn’t have to make it so obvious he regarded me as lower than dirt. Sule’din would definitely scold my ears purple if she ever caught word of me being rude, so I directed my apology at Lahn and the Sentinels. “Ir abel'as. You all move so quietly I didn’t hear you coming.”

“Perhaps if you conducted yourself with the remotest ounce of decorum, you would have heard us.” As usual, Solas’ snippy voice was about as warm as a deep southern glacier.

I smiled sweetly at him. Acid dripping from my tone, I said, “And perhaps if you weren’t a treacherous banal'vhen'an, I wouldn’t be in this stairway in the first place.” (Asshole/heartless.) 

Lahn lost his struggle to keep his laughter silent. But he said, “Da'vhen, play nice.”

I stuck my tongue out at him and pressed into the wall to let them all pass. Children indeed. I'd hugged Solas. Ew. I wanted a bath. Ick. I utterly refused to acknowledge a momentary daydream of my fingers tangled in beautiful red hair. Once they’d safely disappeared, I made a face and cautiously walked up the curving staircase. In case any more ridiculously quiet El'vhen warriors were coming down.

I reached the top and took a moment to let the heat in my flaming cheeks subside. I leaned on the cool, grey stone of the wall, refusing to admit that it probably wasn’t the exercise that had me burning up. Nope. Just hot from the exertion. Oh, exertion was the wrong word to think. I thumped my head against the wall several times. Muttering ‘no’ with each impact. “Not happening, body. Get it through your stubborn hormones. Humping halla horns.” I shoved the heels of my hands into my eye sockets, hard, and growled. “No, no humping. Humping will definitely not be happening. Torn sails in a hurricane, Rook. What’s wrong with you?” I’d heard of hate sex but this was ridiculous. “No. No hate sex either,” I hissed at my body. Fuck, I needed to get laid. And soon.

Eventually, I had myself under control and I knocked on Sule'din’s door, hoping more than I’d hoped in a while. Lahn, that asshole Solas, and the Sentinels had been kitted out for battle, and I couldn’t for a moment see Lahn leaving Sule'din if she hadn’t returned to consciousness. Their love burnt so pure it almost hurt to be around them sometimes. It reminded me of what I'd never had a chance to have with my loves, and wouldn't ever. And I never would have that with anyone, even if it was a choice. My eyes burned and my heart flew when her beloved voice called for me to come in.

I closed the door behind me, rushed to the bed and bent to gently press my forehead to hers. We held the position for a few moments, honouring one another’s energy, our spirits, our breath. Then I whispered, “Ir abel'as. I am so sorry I didn’t listen. I would’ve chained all four of us up to keep us from interfering if I’d known you would get hurt.”

“I forgive you, Leth'al'len. Though, please listen to me next time I try to tell you something.”

“I promise.”

She patted the bed beside her and I curled up into her side like we'd slept until I'd needed my own bed. Not long before we'd lost her to fate. It wasn't as comfortable as it used to be. I was taller than her now, and my shoulders broader. But we wiggled around until I could rest my head on her shoulder. She embraced me with her good arm and smoothed her fingers through my loose hair.

"Where are your husbands' going decked out for bloodshed?"

"Run into them on the stairs?" Sule'din’s voice held a strong teasing tone and I relaxed. My sister was back.

I snorted. "How did you know?"

"Educated guess based on them leaving and you thumping your head in the hall."

"Face first into Solas. Who caught me, then insulted me. Blech. Could you maybe put a bell on them or something? They're entirely too quiet."

"And you’re entirely too reckless. But I imagine the experience will make you all more cautious on the stairs."

"Stop being wise. That’s Papae's job."

Sule'din snorted and we talked well into the evening, before, yawning, I cautiously crept down the stairs. I made it into my room without running into anyone unpleasant, just Bel'la'ra's feet from where they stuck out from under some sort of ancient El'vhen piece of junk. The Caretaker kindly brought me food when asked and I fell asleep quickly. Relief still overwhelming me at the miracle of my sister returning from death.

I bathed and got into casual clothes before pacing my rooms. Lucanis had come to me to ask for help getting to Treviso. We’d gone, only to find out that several days ago, before we’d even broken Lucanis out, Caterina Dellamorte had been murdered. He hadn’t shown much, but Lucanis had taken the news of Caterina's death hard. They'd never even gotten to see one another again.

The idea of losing my grandmother that way made my heart ache. To my knowledge, our clan matriarch still herded halla and guided our clan’s path, regardless of her age and aching joints. I frowned, nibbling my inner lip ‘til it bled. Trying to figure out the right thing to do. “Fuck it,” I muttered and made my way across the courtyard to the kitchen building.

When I got there I quietly made a pot of coffee and opened a bottle of wine. I prepared a plate of snacks, fetched glasses and cups, then I took it all over to the comfortable lounge area. Killing people, stealing treasure, picking locks, I was good at doing those things, but comforting someone I barely knew? Perhaps not my worst nightmare but definitely in the top thirty or so. I often couldn’t even decipher my own emotions, much less someone else’s.

I tentatively knocked on the plain, unassuming door next to a fireplace flanked by white marble wolves. Arrogant much, Solas? I made a moue of distaste at the erotic heat tingling all through me when he’d caught me yesterday afternoon. I absolutely refused to be attracted to the Dread Wolf. Bad enough one member of my family was.

Even if a lot of people in Thedas were fine with multiple loves, including me, I did not want that at all. It was Solas for fuck’s sake. My mouth tasted gross at the very idea. But I squirmed at remembering the answering flare of surprised heat in his eyes. Nope. Nope. Not happening. Nope. Oh, I was quite skilled at denial, too.

Lucanis called, “Yes?” Torn sails, that man’s voice could get me off all by itself. I peeked my head inside, then slid through the door. I swallowed, refused to twiddle my thumbs, and quietly said, “I’m sorry about Caterina. She seemed dedicated and very loyal.”

Lucanis bobbed his head. He’d brought things back from Treviso and wore a simpler outfit. Cleaned up, he was a rather fine looking man with his raven’s-wing hair and sinfully dark pupils I could probably lose myself in. The way his lean muscles shifted under his clothing hinted at strength, flexibility, and control. Things I always looked for in a lover. I wanted to roll my eyes at myself. ‘Down’. I sternly instructed my always high libido.

“I’ll go, but if you want company, I’ll be in the other room.” I went and sat in one of the overstuffed chairs in the lounge, pouring a glass of wine.

It didn’t take long for him to join me. He immediately poured a cup of coffee, though I caught the quick glance at my valles'lin. I repressed a chuckle. Likely wondering if I knew how to make it or if he was about to be poisoned.

I sipped from my wine and smiled at his soft groan of pleasure. I drew my legs up into my chair to rest my bare feet on the cushion. Fuck decorum.

“You know how to properly prepare coffee?” His voice was slightly hoarse and the edges of his eyelids were red.

“I wouldn’t call myself an expert, but Isabela and M'e'r'ri'll like it, you met them on the Dumat. They’re my… sort of my adopted somethings, family, whatever we are. So, I learned for them. I enjoy it too, but if I drink it this late at night I might not sleep. Sometimes it knocks me right to the Fade, but mostly, it keeps me up.”

“It’s better if I stay awake.”

“Why? Sleep… well, sleep is often a surcease.”

“Not when possessed by a demon it is not.”

“Ah. I’m curious how that happened, but I won’t push. We can just sit quietly, too. Watch the fire, whatever. Dalish don’t leave someone to grieve alone unless asked.”

“That is a good tradition. I worry about Illario, but he has Teia and to a lesser extent Viago.”

“Illario of the sculpted face, nasty tongue, and squirrelly disposition. Who is he to you? If you don’t mind my asking?” I rolled the next sip of wine over my tongue and sourly admitted to myself that it was good. Solas apparently had good taste in wines.

“My first cousin. Although we are more like brothers. Caterina raised and trained us both.”

“I know Viago. At least, in as much as he lets me know him. Our dealings have always been professional. But he and Teia argue like an old married couple. Are they married?”

“Talons do not marry other Talons, by tradition. It would accumulate too much power in one family. It is usually done only when one house is too small to continue. Cantori and de Riva are both quite strong. But they have a… situationship. Sometimes they’re very together, and sometimes they’re trying to kill each other. At least to the eyes of everyone else.”

“Sounds restrictive. But no more so than a Dalish clan. Our marriages are often arranged by the Ha’hren of our Clan and approved by the Ha’rhen’al. To prevent inbreeding. We do take in outsiders, but it’s not common.”

“Ha’rhen? I know a small amount of Elvish, but I’ve never heard of this word?”

“Ha’rhen is elder, specifically, old respected person. The Ha’rhen’al is the gathering of elders at the Ar'lath'ven. That’s a group meeting of the Clans.”

“Crows are not so different. Caterina would have arranged my marriage. Approved by the Talons' and the king. Either to a merchant princessa or another Crow for an alliance. I believe Teia and Viago's daughter was being groomed for the role. I do not know what I’ll do without her.”

I stared into my glass. Remembering those I’d loved and lost. My first overwhelming teenage crush at the Ar'lath'ven, all hasty fumbling and impassioned declarations before her clan parted ways with mine and all the rest when the gathering ended, our petition to wed denied. I’d probably never even see another Ar'lath'vhen. Sadness swept over me, making me curl my shoulders in.

The second, another history seeker. They'd broken my heart when, instead of helping me fend off the slavers, they'd turned tail and run. Another blade or bow would've made all the difference. Especially theirs, they'd usually managed to put me on my butt in training. They'd never even had the courage to meet my gaze when I'd returned to Clan La'v'el'lan.

And the third, my unwisest of loves, the man chained beside me on a Tevene galley. Seeing him murdered for blood magic was what had spurred my escape into the sea far from land, on the tail end of a hurricane. But only after I’d turned that damned galley into a ghost ship and freed the few remaining enslaved people. His death had been pointless. They'd thought the magic would steer them clear of the storm.

I gently rubbed the scar on one wrist. Where I'd driven my iron cuffs into myself, trying to get to him. Even if just to die with him. A punch by a Tevene warrior had knocked me unconscious. But my wrists had continued to ooze blood. I'd woken after dark to most of the enslaved dead and the sailors working hard to try to keep the ship afloat. I'd left a bit more skin behind as I'd pulled my hands out of the blood-slicked manacles. Then fed my inner darkness until it had been glutted with vengeance. My losses were why I stuck to sex only. My heart wasn’t getting involved ever again. It hurt too much to lose. I drained my glass hastily.

“Memories?“ Lucanis’s voice was soft.

“Hard ones. But I know what losing someone you love feels like.”

We spoke quietly, Lucanis reminiscing about his grandmother, both of us answering soft voiced questions, or sitting in a mostly comfortable silence until dawn.

“Thank you, Rook.”

“You’re welcome. I’m going to grab a nap, but you know where to find me if you need to talk. I’m a willing ear, and... I've been there.”

Lucanis’s voice dropped into a sharper, slightly eerie, hissing register. His eyes flashed purple. “Like you, Rook. Pain... not as heavy.”

Lucanis rubbed his eyes, and they shifted back to his usual black-brown. Like the bitter dark chocolate Isabela imported at ridiculous expense.

I had no idea how to answer a spirit. But I nodded respectfully to its comment. Dalish didn’t view spirits and possession the same way as the shem and their Chantry taught. From everything I’d been raised with, Lucanis and Spite weren’t acting like a demon or abomination. It might be a good idea to ask my sister about it. She’d either know, or know who to ask.

And I knew exactly who that would be, but I certainly wasn’t going to ask Solas for a damned thing. I stretched, cleaned up, watched Lucanis retreat to his room, and then went to mine.

Chapter Text

THE STORYTELLER

Firelight flickered upon the sides of ara'v'els circled around a clearing. In the distance, the bleats and snorts of halla echoed. A hooded elf with broad shoulders and an easy way of moving sat upon a wooden seat. Children clustered around his feet, waiting impatiently. For travelling storytellers were rare and well respected in Dalish culture. 

The storyteller's voice rang clear and resonant. "Gather close young and old, for I've a tale to tell." Purple eyes gleamed from beneath a hood, and the branches of M'y'th'al's valles'lin glimmered strangely in the firelight. Ancient, yet young, the storyteller sipped a warm drink.

"Are there monsters in it?" A boy on the verge of adulthood sat playing with the handle of a wooden sword. It had a griffon inexpertly carved on the blade. White halla hair clung to his tunic, and the fire glinted off of rich, warm brown skin.

The el'vhen, awakened not long ago from uth'en'e'r'a, smiled at this child of his people. His voice was sad when he said, "Oh yes, da'len. The worst types of monsters. Kinslayers."

"Like the Dread Wolf?"

"Is that what they say of him now? How history has changed. The Dread Wolf, as you name him, is the only reason a single elf or el'vhen is free. And when he was forced to slay kin, he did so only with a heavy heart."

The boy glanced at the elder suspiciously. This did not mesh with anything he'd been taught.

The storyteller used magic to illustrate his tale, to the gasped awe of the children. Sad to think a simple bit of illusion to him caused so much amazement and wonder. How far had their people fallen. Several quiet adults brought handicrafts with them, and sat upon cushions filled with cattail down to listen while they worked.

"Before life drew its first breath, only eternal night existed. From the endless dark came Alas, a being of stone, dirt, ice, and blood of gleaming silver. Alas shivered, cold and lonely in the vastness of eternity. She brought forth the Great Dragons. Beings of intelligence, heart, and mercy. But they too were cold when they craved warmth.

"She split pieces of herself and gave them hopes, dreams, and a desire to craft the world into a place where her Draconic children could be comfortable. For they craved heat and light. But it wasn’t enough. So, Alas prayed to the dark. And it brought forth Elgara. A brilliant, heat, and light producing being with blood of glowing gold. Brash, beautiful, and seemingly made for worship, Alas fell in love with Elgara.

"Curious, Elgara leaned close to Alas, and they kissed. From this union, the first came to be. With traits of both his mother and father, as is expected. Alas was so delighted with her newest child that she introduced him to the rest of his siblings. The gargantuan, slow-moving beings of stone and soil who shaped her body, the bright, swift intelligence of the Dragons who ruled the sky. Blood of her blood, they recognized and accepted each other, and Alas' children finally had the warmth and light they craved.

"So happy was she, that she brought forth all manner of life to please the first. They named him Elgar'nan. But Elgara was young and foolish. He grew jealous of the affection she showed her children. Angrier and angrier he became. Until his heat scorched Alas. Killing all the wonderful life she'd brought forth for Elgar'nan and her other offspring.

"The skins of the Dragons and Titans burned, cracked, and bled. They cried in pain. Their blood and tears accumulated into a vast silver sea. Elgar'nan, at seeing the damage that his father did to his mother, struck out and punished Elgara. He threw it down into the dark in vengeance. But Alas and her children grew cold once more. She pleaded with Elgar'nan to bring back Elgara, but in his wroth, he would not.

"Alas brought forth another child, her last. Silver of hair and gold of eyes, she walked out of the sea of blood and tears. She placed a cool hand upon Elgar'nan's prideful brow, and he calmed. She guided him into bringing back his father on the condition that Elgara would rest regularly. Day and night came to be. Alas named the youngest of her children M'y'th'al.

"M'y'th'al found the night too dark, so she brought forth the moons. The Dragons and Titans rejoiced. They no longer hurt, and there existed different conditions that worked for all. Dragons loved heat and light. They spread gargantuan wings and came to rule the skies. Titans, with eyes sensitive to the light, preferred the dark and moonlight. Thus were the Children of Gods born.

The tears of her Titans are the tears of the world.

The blood of her Dragons the blood of the world.

The spirits of El'vhen the soul of the world.

"Alas brought forth plant and animal life once more, and for a time, M'y'th'al and Elgar'nan were happy. But even the children of gods can grow lonely. M'y'th'al shared the knowledge of how Alas had made her with her brother, Elgar'nan, out of loneliness. They brought forth people like themselves. Beings of spirit and emotions bound to forms crafted of sacred silver blood and tears. Remembering how they had each felt the lack, Elgar'nan and M'y'th'al swore vows binding themselves together. So that neither themselves nor the beings they brought forth, who they viewed as their siblings and children, would ever be without a family."

Blood of my blood.

Your tears are my tears.

Your happiness is mine.

My thoughts touch your thoughts.

Our spirits intertwine.

Everything we are, we choose to share with the other.

"But, unlike their parents, they did not understand how to love their creations. Time passed. Elgar'nan, with his father's weakness to vanity and worship, as well as his hot temper, brought forth many beings to walk by his side. Eventually, M'y'th'al did as well. She manipulated three spirits into one form. One of Knowledge, one of Guidance, and one of Wisdom. They became the Guide, the Seeker, and the Healer. To ensure he would always be hers and hers alone, she used blood magic to stamp his face with her mark.

"In time, this being had many to call family, yet they were always and never alone.

"These creatures of thought, emotion, memory, blood, and tears came to be called the e'v'an'u'ris. They ruled the lands between Alas and Elgara. Between Dragons and Titans. Curious, M'y'th'al and Elgar'nan eventually mated in the ways of the other creatures of Alas. This brought forth children of their bodies. Though they did not understand how to love these either. These were the second generation and the first true El'vhen.

"Alas delighted in her grandchildren. The Dragons had long understood the joy of mating in such a way. The Titans, not wishing to displease their mother, brought forth their own children, who they housed within their great bodies. They were short, strong, blocky people much like the Titans themselves. Alas delighted in the creatures of stone blood. The Durgen'len. For a time, peace reigned. The Children of Gods created civilizations that Alas wore like jewellery. 

"Eventually, the silvery-blue sea of blood and tears dried. No more e'v'an'u'ris could be made. M'y'th'al asked her mother for more, but Alas had grown concerned with the fast proliferation of the e'v'an'u'ris, and advised M'y'th'al to be happy with creating offspring like all other creatures. This enraged Elgar'nan. The children born of their bodies were powerful, almost as powerful as the first of the people. But they were not e'v'an'u'ris.

"Elgar'nan was the first to slay a Great Dragon for her blood. The sacred being's horns, Elgar'nan took as a trophy and wore on his brow as a crown. The blood of the Dragon as silver as his own, Elgar'nan used it to make more e'v'an'u'ris. Some did not come out the way he had hoped. Having minds of their own before a spirit could fill the body. These beings developed distinct draconic traits. They looked like el'vhen crossed with dragons. Elgar'nan’s betrayal fuelled creations became known as the Kossith. Large, strong beings with horns, scales, or the ability to breathe elemental weapons. Eventually, they, too, brought forth their own children and endeavored to build a civilization that worked for them.

"The Great Dragons feared. They brought forth children like, yet unlike themselves to defend them. Alas could never forgive her son Elgar'nan for murdering his sister. Attempting to soothe things over, M'y'th'al pled with Alas to give them what they needed to create more of their kind. Alas turned her face away in grief.

"This angered M'y'th'al, and she became the first to bind a Great Dragon to her will. This was sacrilegious beyond even Elgar'nan's murder. The firstborn children, rulers of the sky, were never meant to be bound.

"As is the case with many intellectual beings, they invented war. Dragons and e'v'an'u'ris fought for millenia beyond counting, for there is nothing quite so fierce as a dragon's need for freedom. Nor something quite so selfish as a denied e'v'an'u'ris. The Dragons did not have the numbers of the e'v'an'u'ris, and were eventually either driven into hiding or were shackled to the whims of the last born children of Alas.

"The Titans, closest to their mother's heart, still a part of her, understood how this grieved her and sought to help the Dragons hide deep within secret places only they knew. For a time, the e'v'an'u'ris were content, if not happy. The War of Dragons had reduced their numbers significantly. Destroying their sacred silver bodies and sending their spirits back to the Deep Fade, the Land of Dreams from which they came.

"M'y'th'al once again asked her mother for what the e'v'an'u'ris needed. Not only to reproduce but also to craft and support their civilization. Heartbroken by the actions of her children, Alas refused to answer.

"Then it came to be that a child of blood, tears, memory, and spirit, loved a child of stone blood. Thus, the last born grandchildren of Alas and Elgara, the Neromenians, came to be. Beings who did not have their mother's pointy ears, and who were bound to the soil in a way the e'v'an'u'ris could never be. Some of these could work magic, like the Children of Gods. But they had the gift of Alas' fecundity. They proliferated much faster than others of her grandchildren.

"Unforgiving of her mother, M'y'th'al grew enraged at their descendents fouling the purity of themselves by breeding with Durgen'len, she ordered the Neromenians rejected by the e'v'an'u'ris. Left to fend for themselves without their guidance.

"Then, in their selfishness and greed, the e'v'an'u'ris broke the world. M'y'th'al decided that if Alas would not give them what they needed, the e'v'an'u'ris should simply take it. J'u'ne, a secretive e'v'an'u'ris, and brother to M'y'th'al, upon her behest, used the last of the blood and tears of the children of Alas and crafted a beautiful weapon imbued so with M'y'th'al's rage and desire for vengeance that it glowed red, not blue. The gleaming red blade would pierce the stone like hides of Titans. Furious at the rejection of their grandchildren, the Neromenians, the Titans had grown to distrust the e'v'an'u'ris. When M'y'th'al first stole Alas' silver blood from the sleeping body of a Titan, they grew furious.

"They moved slowly, and Titans were the second born of Alas' children. They were slow but so powerful. Their hive mind existence, many and one, made it hard for the e'v'an'u'ris to fight them effectively. The Titans set about destroying the El'vhen'an civilization. For their trespass against the Great Dragons, the Titans, and the Neromenians, the Titans decided that vengeance need be answered. Alas and Elgara watched, silently. 

"Amidst the crumbling of everything she and her family had built, M'y'th'al asked her firstborn for wisdom. He advised her to cease stealing from her mother. To work for peace in lieu of war. This infuriated M'y'th'al, who believed everything of Alas' should be M'y'th'al's by virtue of being Alas' child.

"M'y'th'al turned her face away from Wisdom. She then secretly took the luridly glowing red dagger that J'u'ne had crafted, and under guise of seeking peace, she met with the first born of the Titans. They who led them all. M'y'th'al cut their leader's head off, cutting their spirits from their bodies, destroying their one and many mind. Ending the destruction of the El'vhen'an civilization, and putting all Titans and their children into a state no e'v'an'u'ris wanted to ever experience. Cut off from the realm of Alas, imprisoned and wandering the lands of the Deep Fade, or cast dreamless upon the shores of their mother. The spirits of Titans were hunted for sport. Their bodies lay passive, alive, yet tranquil. And the e'v'an'u'ris took what they wanted from them. The Durgen'len civilization collapsed and forgot much without their deep connection of interlocking minds.

"The e'v'an'u'ris reigned alone. But Alas would never speak with her e'v'an'u'ris children again. Even Elgara turned his face in shame at his son's actions, hiding behind a moon. The silver blood of Alas ran through them all. When one of her children fell, a star rose to the heavens as a reminder of their light and their connection to her. There were lights beyond counting.

"Inevitably, the war-like e'v'an'u'ris turned upon one another. They fought millenia upon millenia of wars against each other. They fought over the blood mines, where silver magic ran from tranquilized Titans. They fought over petty pride and insult until few remained of the original tens of thousands of e'v'an'u'ris. Their name for what they were became a title and a rank to strive for. The actual e'v'an'u'ris started uplifting second and third born El'vhen to the rank of e'v'an'u'ris. Because few spirits could, by then, be enticed from the Fade to join with blood and tears.

"Syl'aise and J'u'ne built the S'o'n'all'i'u'm. A device with which the lives and magic of others, through blood sacrifice, were transferred to an ascending e'v'an'u'ris. But the cost was heavy in the life's blood of others to empower a second or third born to a high enough level of magic to be considered worthy of the title of e'v'an'u'ris. Unwilling to be bled by their grandparents, the El'vhen rose up.

"Crafty J'u'ne and prideful Syl'aise created the writing of blood. Based upon the blood magic M'y'th'al used to bind her own, the blood of Dragons, blood of Titans, and the blood of the individual, imbued with magic became tattoos applied to the faces of El'vhen. Identifying each as belonging to one or another of the e'v'an'u'ris.

"The science had been available for millenia. Priests of the e'v'an'u'ris had worn such markings almost since the dawn of time. What had originated as a mark of pride, devotion, and a way to communicate with their leaders became a symbol of ownership and enslavement.

"The Healer, Guide, and Seeker could withstand this no longer. He burned M'y'th'al's blood writing from his face. He had served her faithfully but could not continue. He and many brave others uplifted the El'vhen and the other e'v'an'u'ris despised him for it.

"The War of Rev'as El'vhen destroyed what was left of the El'vhen'en civilization. But the e'v'an'u'ris turned a dark weapon to bear upon Alas and her people.

"If they could not rule, no one would."

"They would destroy all life with a weapon of pure darkness. From the most stygian depths of the void it came hunting the hunter.

"Wisdom begged with M'y'th'al to see what the others were doing with clear eyes. For the first time in her life, M'y'th'al experienced fear.

"For the nothing, now known as the blight, threatened the e'v'an'u'ris as well. She agreed to try to sway them from their destructive course. Five e'v'an'u'ris, under the guise of peace, met with M'y'th'al.

"'T'was Elgar'nan's hand that slew his mate, with the scarlet dagger of J'u'ne's make.

"The Healer, Seeker, and Guide gave his life to imprison the remaining e'v'an'u'ris and their weapon. His name lives on, to this day."

"Fen'ha'rel. The Dread Wolf."

By the time the first stone came flying at where he'd sat, Fel'as'san stood watching from the dimness of the forest. It was time for his next task, which would take him to Orlais. 

Chapter Text

SULE’DIN

The hot bath had done absolutely nothing for the shaking, shuddering, utterly horrified grief I’d experienced from consuming the two large spirit shards Lahn and Solas had brought back to me. My guys had reeked of the putrid odor of darkspawn when they’d returned, so wherever Lahn had hidden them, it had likely been deep. They’d been away for three days, but with the el’u’vi’ans, that could still be pretty much anywhere in the world.

My hair had dried, and cold still threaded through me even in the comfortable warmth of the Lighthouse and sitting on a chaise in front of a crackling fire. I swiped at my face again. Tears wouldn’t stop coming and my chest kept hitching with repressed sobs. I’d cried my eyes out in the bath, and usually it would have been enough.

But M'y'th'al's memories… I wasn’t sure if there were tears enough in the entire world, or if I could possibly be strong enough to carry even the ones I already held. And although I’d almost immediately felt a little stronger, I could tell it hadn’t been enough.

I bit into the edge of my towel to silence myself and broke down as another facet of her abusing Lahn showed itself to me. Each shard had been about the size of my palm and as thin as ice on a washbasin after a cold night, gleaming an iridescent silver. How could I possibly bear…

Lahn’s soft voice caressed me as he sat down on the chaise next to me. I hadn’t even heard the door open. “That good, huh?”

I just frantically shook my head before burying it in his shoulder. How could he… how could he laugh, and sing, and make love, and craft such beautiful things, how could he bear to exist after what she’d done to him? And Lahn had apparently been her favourite son, or one of them. How could Solas bear it?

My voice muffled by Lahn’s shirt, I said, “How can she live with everything she’s done?” I couldn’t ask the rest.

Lahn shrugged. “She is a quintessential spoiled youngest child. She feels anything she does is right just because she does it, wants it, takes it. Her desires justify anything.”

“I could never be like that. Ever.”

Lahn slid a big, work roughened palm over my nude back. “It’s definitely one of the things I love about you.”

He’d startled a laugh out of me. I scrubbed at my face with my towel. My cheeks were raw and the lyrium scars burned. I’d have to find a way to live with it. If one of the people she’d probably harmed the most could sit there and joke about it, I could find a way to bear it. My voice still rough, I said, “Will you let me hold you, everywhere?”

“Hmm. Let the beautiful el’vhen I love more than my next breath hold me. I think that’s possible.”

“You’re ridiculously silly. You do know that?”

“You love that about me.”

That earned him a slight lift of the corners of my mouth. I stood, dropping my towel as I went and led him to the bed. I undressed him slowly, brushing tender fingers over every inch of skin. Not to arouse, but to comfort myself and hopefully him. I’d hoped to hide how badly affected I’d been.

I gently pressed him to his back on the bed once we’d shed his clothes. I pulled the blanket up over us and rested my head on his shoulder. I traced his smooth flesh. He’d lived so long all the scars were gone. I couldn’t help but touch those many, many places, reassuring myself that he was fine. His warmth next to me helped, but I needed more, I trailed gentle fingers over his lower belly and then his cock. He hardened for me.

He whispered, “Ara gar’a‘m’as, Vhen’an. (Come here to me, love.)

I draped myself over him like a blanket, we synced our breathing and our heart beats slowly did the same. We exchanged soft, loving caresses, and moved slowly together until I could take him. I shuddered as I came to rest, holding him in my warmth. I snuggled back down on his chest and pulled my knees up along his sides, deepening our connection. This wasn’t about passion, but comforting one another.

He ran gentle fingers up and down my sides while I buried my nose in his neck. Inhaling his familiar, complicated aroma deep into me. We rested like that for some time, in the soft, enveloping warmth of our bed, connected as deeply as we physically could be.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

I frantically shook my head. “It’s bad enough bearing them, of knowing… I just want to bury them as deeply as I can. I’ll listen if you need or want to talk.”

He snuggled his face closer to my forehead. “I don’t know if it will help, but... ancient Ar’lath’an, our time. It was brutal. Death happened every day, all around us. Psychological war games between family members was just the way of it. Competing with one another rather than caring for and protecting each other was the only thing we’d ever been taught. When it’s all you know, it may feel awful, but you adapt to survive. I didn’t honestly know how wrong it all was until long after her sundering. The things she did. Solas carries his scars heavier than I do, because I’ve worked for a great deal of time to accept, grieve, and hopefully heal from it all. There will always be shadows, but for the most part, the things she did are behind me. I don’t think about them, they don’t colour my thoughts, it doesn’t generally cause pain to talk about it, and I rarely have nightmares anymore.”

“It must have been so lonely in your time. Unable to trust anyone.”

“I had some few I could trust. Solas, Fel’as'san, when we weren’t tied into another of her games, An’a’ris.”

I stayed silent. Not knowing what to say.

“He wasn’t evil, anymore than I’m good. I told you my history… the things I’ve done, who I was, before we joined the first time. An’a’ris is the younger twin. For some reason, he always strove to please M'y'th'al more. He had a desperation in him for her approval. But M'y'th'al's moods rarely reached approval. I learned to wall her out, to retreat to a place in my mind that she couldn’t touch. I know he had the same ability, knowledge, but for some reason he always left himself open to her.”

“What actually happened? If it’s not too painful to talk about? My people call him a Forgotten One. The worst kind of demon.”

“We’re identical. She played us off each other, twisting us against one another. She eventually got so bored that she set us to fight. At first just exhibition matches. Then to third blood. Then to submission, and finally to the death. I wonder sometimes what he hates more, that he lost or that I couldn’t kill him?”

“She banished him to the void for losing a match?”

“He’d become an embarrassment to her, I think. He kept doing worse and worse things to get her attention, which she rarely willingly gave. Everything on the surface had to look perfect, even if our home lives were something out of nightmares. It’s likely why your people view them fondly. M'y'th'al and Elgar’nan had public faces, and private ones. All of their family were expected to follow that rule. Nothing even remotely tarnishing to our reputation as the royalty of El’vhen’an could be allowed. An’a’ris didn’t follow that rule.”

“Do you think he’s come back?”

“Im'sh'a'el has, so it wouldn’t surprise me if my twin has returned as well.”

I winced. “About Im'sh'a'el. I… um… killed him in fair contest several years ago, during the Inquisition years. I'm so sorry.”

Lahn’s chest rumbled and his cock jumped inside me with his laughter. I fluttered and clenched around him and he snuggled deeper into me with his hands on my butt. “The first of our people do not die easily, if at all. Im'sh'a'el isn’t dead. It’s them, by the way. They say they’re all genders and sexes or none. Most of us are shape changers to some extent, but it was always Shay’s strongest gift. They made you think you’d killed them, no doubt. You’ll have to ask them why.”

“I just might if I ever see them again. Their trickery annoys me, but I’m relieved I didn’t kill one of your family.”

“Ommer. They’re M'y'th'al’s sibling. And since they’ve joined Rook’s group, I imagine you’ll run into them sooner than not.”

“They have? Does Rook know who they are? Who they really are?”

“Unlikely. Any of the remaining e’v’an’u’ris or even second or third born have the same problem. No one would believe them if they told anyone. Im'sh'a'el’s all right. Mercenary, but as long as you meet their fee and don’t let them get too bored, they’ll stay loyal. I dare say they’d be loyal to Solas, regardless.”

“Why? Only if it’s not too painful.”

“As I mentioned before, Solas is the eldest of M'y'th'al’s creations. He protected Im'sh'a'el a great deal, Im'sh'a'el has always been fiercely loyal to Solas.”

“Understandably.”

We fell silent but kept up the soft caresses. Enjoying the warmth of each other’s body and the deep emotional connection. My body clenched around him and he hardened further. “Do you want more?” I whispered against Lahn’s throat.

“I always want more with you.”

“Good.” I tightened myself around him and he made a soft, approving sound in his throat before pressing up into me.

He tightened his fingers on my ass and pulled me tight to him, grinding against my clit.

I gasped as excitement raced through me.

What had started as comfort gently morphed into a soft passion. I leaned up to kiss him, so tenderly. Our tongues met as he slowly lifted me off then let me slide back down. “Lahn… “ I breathed his name like the prayer it was. Then sealed our mouths together again, the slick of our tongues sliding and curling around each other’s heating us both.

“Sit up,” he murmured when we pulled back from our kiss.

I did as he asked and the blanket fell down around me. He rested his hands on my hips and pulled me tightly to him while thrusting up into me.

My eyes rolled back and my nipples peaked, hard and tingling. “Heem’ma gar’as, Vhen’an,” I murmured, moving slowly on him. (Make me come, love.)

“‘Ma nuven’in.” (As you wish.) He slid his hands up from my hips to my breasts, cupping them in his rough palms and squeezing me gently. He teased my hard nipples until they ached. “You’re so beautiful sitting on my cock.”

“I feel beautiful riding you.”

He increased his pace and my breathing shortened until I gasped, sobbing his name with each thrust.

“Ar ‘ma’gar’as, Vhen’an.” (Come for me, love.) He thrust up hard and pinched my nipples and I cried out. Clenching hard around him, keeping my rhythm and rubbing my clit just right over his pubic bone, it kept my pleasure soaring until I grew breathless.

Before I knew it, Lahn had kicked the blankets off and rolled us until I was on bottom. “Dar’eth, Vhen’an. (Be safe, love.) You’re not entirely well yet.”

“It’s your fault you feel so good.” My slick wetness sucked him into me and I wrapped my legs around his hips to pull him even deeper. “Sal, ma’ras.” (Again, my light.)

He smiled at me, eyes half lidded. “Greedy thing.”

“Always, with you.”

He kissed me and thrust faster and harder into me. The slick sound of our joining drove me higher and I moaned at the pleasure shimmering through me.

He slid his hand up my side to interlace our fingers, our bracelets jangled softly together to the rhythm of his movements. He grew harder inside me as I arched into another peak. Opening myself as widely as I could for him. Fluttering and clenching around him so firmly he gasped and had to push harder through my tight muscles. The tiny hitch in his breath let me know he approached his own. But he pleasured me until a final surge overtook me. Heat zinging up from my nipples to my shoulders, down my back and over my belly, up my thighs to centre on our joining. My clit jerked against his hard belly and I moaned and pressed into him, meeting each thrust with a lift of my hips. “Lahn,” I cried out and tightened hard around him, he lost it and thrust hard several times before filling me with his heat.

His deep groan sent shivers of pleasure through me as, shaking, he collapsed onto my chest, holding his weight up with an elbow. I gently swept my stump under his arm so I could have his weight on me. I wrapped myself around him, kissing down his neck and licking the clean sweat of his exertions from his shoulder. We floated on our shared pleasure, spent and happy.

It had been a while because of everything, and I held him within me for quite some time. Gently caressing his back and sides as he rested with his head against the pillow with his nose buried in my hair.

Eventually, we cleaned up and snuggled into the bed again. Lahn lay pressed to my side, gently trailing a finger from between my breasts to just above my mons over and over. Eventually, he said, “Do you feel well enough to go down to dinner?”

“The idea doesn’t exactly appeal.” I made a face.

“It might help. Although, I’m always happy to bring food up.”

“You’re right. I know you’re right. But I don’t want you to be.” I turned and snuggled my head into him.

He tightened his arms around me. “We can stay right here if you’d rather.”

“No. I should go down. Would Solas come? Do you think?”

“He’d skip if you asked him to. Probably even skip into dinner with everyone watching.”

I snickered. “There’s an image. Solas skipping. He’s always so dignified.”

“It’s an act. He’s ticklish as fuck.”

“Seriously?”

“Mmhmm. Especially along the backs of his knees.”

I met Lahn’s teasing, happy golden gaze. “Should you be sharing such powerful information?”

“He could use the laugh. He never has laughed much.”

“I don’t know if he knows, but I can tell when he’s faking laughter. It’s completely different from his natural one. But you’re right. We’ll have to help him find things to laugh about.”

“His sides too, right along the third rib up.”

I chuckled. “I shall use this power wisely. Help me dress?”

We clambered out of bed and I didn’t get dizzy just walking across the room. Even if the method really bothered me, I couldn’t deny the benefits.

Lahn tenderly dressed me in a knitted tunic with a high, loose neckline and a pair of soft leggings. Then he handed me a beautifully crafted wooden cane.

The handle had been carved to resemble a wolf’s smooth head with laid back ears. A golden eagle, Lahn’s favourite shifted form, covered the Wolf’s back as if protecting him. Vines trailed over it all and a blooming lily made a hook to brace the piece against something so it wouldn’t fall. Sinuous dragons, sea serpents, and scales decorated the shaft. A simple dawnstone ferrule capped the end, while a soft leather loop wrapped around my wrist.

“Ooooh. It’s beautiful! When did you have time to make this?”

“Here and there. Try it for height.”

He helped me stand up and I measured it to my hip bone. Then I leaned on the smooth handle that perfectly fit my palm. “It’s perfect.” I snuggled close to his still nude chest and hugged him.

“I’ll always be happy to help you ma’ras, but this way, you can get around on your own until you feel better.”

I looked up at him. “Why are you so perfect?”

He kissed my forehead. “I have excellent motivation in your person, Vhen’an.” Then he tossed on a shirt, helped me braid my hair out of the way and we went down to dinner.

Chapter Text

SULE’DIN

Lahn walked beside me protectively, ready to catch me if I fell, but I managed to walk down the three sets of curving stairs to the main room by myself. A little out of breath, I sat on a couch. Lahn sat next to me and draped his arm around my waist.

No one else was around, probably in the building across the courtyard where the kitchen and dining areas were. I leaned my head against Lahn’s shoulder. “Where would Solas be?”

The treatment of the soul shards was definitely working. I’d already caught my breath. So, incredibly nasty but highly efficient medicine.

“Probably in his study. I’ll show you when you’re ready. Would you like to go in alone? I can wait out here and pick another book to read if you’d like privacy.”

I glanced up at his golden eyes. “You don’t mind?”

Lahn snorted softly. “I’ve just had three days alone with him. I’m fine. It’s really whatever you want to do.”

“I just want to give him a hug and ask him to come over for dinner with us.”

“Ready?”

I checked myself. “The method is absolutely wretched but I feel so much stronger. So, yes, ready.”

Lahn led me to a wall with a round door. “Press your hand to it. He keeps it locked but there’s no way he hasn’t keyed it to you, too.”

I swallowed, worried and anxious that maybe Solas wouldn't actually want me to have free access to him. Even if Lahn seemed sure. I leaned against him for balance as I hesitantly pressed my palm against the middle of the door. Three crystalline lights lit up in sequence and the door slid into the wall with a faint rumble.

I looked up at Lahn’s smirk, and couldn’t help but smile.

“It’s about four steps to the opening, and the study is about ten wide.”

“I should be able to handle that with this.” I held up the gorgeous cane Lahn had crafted just for me.

He dropped a kiss on my head and let me walk down the hall alone, even though I could get a hint of his worry down our bond. The closer we grew to one another again, since my return, the deeper the bond flowed between us. And we could sense more about each other.

I walked through the round opening into a room filled with light. Piano music floated in the air from no discernable source. A glass ceiling let in shimmering, opalescent Fade light and light from the protective Lighthouse crystals. A large desk sat so that it faced the door, putting Solas’ back to the wall when he sat there. The floor depicted a beautiful mosaic of orange trees in bloom. And book cases filled almost all the walls. Across from the desk stood a long table with various projects laid out upon it, just like his desk had looked at Skyhold.

Solas stood with his back to me, facing a window and I slowly made my way to stand behind him.

“I would have assumed you would be with Sule’din. How is she taking the treatment?”

“Solas? Can I hug you?”

He stiffened. He’d obviously been thinking I was Lahn. “Of course, Vhen’an.”

Before Solas could turn, I’d plastered myself to his back. I needed skin. Slowly, so he could stop me if he wanted, I slid my hands under the edges of his close fitting tunic and splayed both my flesh hand and the magic one I’d just called into being over the firm planes of his belly. The treatment had me able to cast easily again, too.

Solas gasped and stiffened in my arms, fearing I’d over stepped, I went to pull my arms away. I usually managed to forget how fast he really was because his hands were holding mine close to him in seconds.

“Please, do not stop. I… your touch…I…” He shuddered in need and pressed my hands closer to him.

I snuggled my cheek between his shoulder blades and slid my palms so I had more contact with him. “As long as I’m not crossing any boundaries. I just needed this.” I held him tighter and couldn’t repress my shudder or the sting of tears. There hadn’t been many memories of Solas in this set of shards, but what little there had been had confirmed everything I’d learned in the Well about him. M'y'th'al had treated him lower than a dog in private. Even using things like snapping her fingers and pointing at the floor where he’d knelt, sometimes for hours, waiting for her.

He let me hold him like that for a time before carefully turning. “You are quite pale.” Then, before I knew it, he had me up in his arms with one under my knees and the other cradling my body against his chest. He took us over to a chaise and sat with me in his lap.

I just leaned my head against his beautiful jawline and inhaled his scent into my soul. The faintly musky, vanilla scent of old leather and paper, the sharp scent of ink, the soap he’d used—jasmine and oranges—to clean up after they’d returned. The faint hint of chocolate and just… him. I’d needed this with him for years. Just the closeness and trust of holding one another.

“May I run a scan upon you?”

I nodded but said, “It’s mostly emotional distress. Physically, I feel much stronger.”

Everything tingled as his magic swept through me.

“What’s the news, Healer?”

He drew back in surprise, “How did you know…” His purple eyes were wide.

“The Well gave me a few hints, but Lahn confirmed it for me. They used to call you that?”

“It is something M'y'th'al had no desire to curtail. It is how this version of me was always known, I have not heard it as a title like that in so very long.”

I hovered my hand over his cheek, asking permission. He lifted his to press mine close to his face. His eyes with their ridiculously long lashes fluttered closed and such a look of peace overcame his features.

“You undo me, ma Vhen’an.” His voice rasped, raw and longing.

“Fair is fair then, you do the same to me.”

“The Well connection has healed some. It will take more shards though. We will get them for you.”

I shuddered and snuggled into him. He tightened strong arms around me, making me feel small. I generally hated that feeling, humans usually lorded their often larger size over Elves all the time. But with Lahn and Solas, I felt cherished, protected, and loved. “The memories are awful. But I can’t deny that the shards worked. I’m stronger than I have been since I woke up.”

“I am relieved, mir’vir’lahn.” (My joyful path.)

I nuzzled under his chin. “Na vir’lahn, hmm. (Your joyful path.) Then would you come over to dinner with Lahn and I?”

Solas gently ran a hand down my braid. “I would do nigh anything you asked of me. Fair warning though, Rook came in without the person they had wanted to recruit and they are in a foul mood.”

"They won’t talk back to me, they know better.”

“I trust you know them better than I do, Vhen’an. Have they always been…”

“Irritating at times? Passionate? A danger to anyone walking a little too quietly? Yes.” I unclasped the leather strap and set my cane aside before relaxing completely against Solas. “Papae has the same kind of restlessness, quick temper, and need to be moving. He taught Rook to do the jumping, swinging, racing everywhere thing. It helps them control their emotions.”

He curled his arm tighter around me and I let my palm sleek down the smooth fall of his hair over his shoulder. “Still feeling a little robbed that I’d never seen this before.”

He smiled wryly. “It was not just fear of being recognized. In ancient Ar’lath’an, it was common to remove all signals of vanity when we lost someone we loved. We were a rather vain lot of peacocks. Do not let Lahn’s simple choices now fool you. He and I and… well, we were some of the worst show offs. My wardrobe was absolutely obscene. His was worse.”

I giggled. “Or better?”

“Different, he has always favoured warmer colours, I have always preferred the darker jewel tones.”

“So you kept it from growing and dressed simply because of grief as well?”

Solas sighed heavily. “My friend, more than a friend, Fel’as'san. M'y'th'al attacked his spirit in the Fade, leaving his body tranquil. Fel asked me to free him and take his body rather than healing him. It was when I woke, a year or so before joining the Inquisition.”

“You must miss him terribly.”

“Not necessarily. He is the Caretaker wherever I am currently living. He insists upon it.”

“The frondy spirit that brings things to us?”

“All our true spirit forms look similar to that. El’vhen, Elves, nature spirits, but you know we can look like whatever we want in the Fade. Looking like our physical forms is simply a set in habit. Do you wish to meet him properly?”

I nodded against Solas’s chest while petting his hair. “I want anything you want to share about yourself, without the apostate hobo or the Dread Wolf disguises. Or the Orlesian bard.”

His chest jerked under me in a silent laugh. “So Charter told you more than my message to you? Of course she would.”

“I admit that I wondered what you’d look like as a blond. But yes, I’d like to meet your friend.”

“Fel’as'san,” Solas murmured.

“Need me, oh great and mighty Dread Wolf?” A handsome el’vhen who looked startlingly like Solas stuck his translucent head through the wall. “Oh.”

He came fully into the room.

Solas held out a hand and the spirit touched it. Magic thrummed in my senses for a moment, and the spirit took on the colours and solidity of a corporeal being. He looked even more like Solas now. His eyes were the same shape and nearly the same colour, they had the same skin tone and bone structure. Only Fel’as'san’s hair was different. His was more of a dark auburn. And he wore all of it pulled into a braid. No shaved sides. That had to mean something. From everything I’d learned of the ancient El’vhen, every bit of external ornamentation had meaning.

Fel’as'san bowed elegantly to me, took my hand and brushed a barely there breath of a kiss over the back of it. “Honoured to make your formal acquaintance Bel’lan’a’ris Ghil’an’na.”

I smiled at him. “Just Sule’din is better.”

Fel’as'san nodded. Even their builds were the same. Solas maybe a little taller. 

“Are you two twins?”

Fel’as'san went and sat in a chair near the chaise. Blessed… they even sat the same way. “Not twins, no. It’s a long story, but technically, in the ways of Ar’lath’an, I’m Solas’s uncle, arguably a brother, depending on how you figured ‘the family connections.’ Elgar’nan lured me to a body, so he’s technically my father. In reality, M'y'th'al hated me so much she loved to play torturous psychological games with me. I’m one of Elgar’nan’s last summoned ‘family’ members, before he started to get Kossith instead and stopped building bodies for spirits. I’m a curiosity spirit. M'y'th'al hated me from the first moment I opened my mouth.”

“A surely not uncommon experience.” Solas gently teased. “The first word out of your mouth is usually, ‘why’?”

Fel’as'san stuck a pink tongue out at Solas. “Anyway, when M'y'th'al finally gave in to the desire to summon her own family of e’v’an’u’ris, she crafted the vessel she imprisoned Solas and the others in to look like me. She played us off each other in many ways, few good.”

“She just gets better and better,” I muttered sourly.

“It was not all bad. We do look a lot alike. We always have. Typical twin games were a source of amusement for us both.” Solas snuggled his arms around my waist and pulled me closer.

I tucked my head under his chin. Completely happy to be exactly where I was.

“When I rebelled, Lahn and Fel’as'san came with me. The three of us have always been close, though we’re not technically related to one another in modern ways.”

“Does it cost you anything to look like yourself rather than your fern like shape?”

Where Solas’s eyes were almost too serious, Fel’as'san’s eyes held a constant expression of curious mirth. He also spoke in a much more modern cadence. “Nope. It’s more that I’m not entirely comfortable with everyone your sib has contracted with for this war. I’m trying to look like a simple curiosity spirit versus someone who had a body for a long time.”

“Who don’t you trust?”

Fel’as'san flicked an assessing gaze at me then obviously to meet Solas’s eyes, then back to mine. “The Tevene detective. It could simply be that she’s Tevene. I lived through the war with them after Solas put up the veil.”

“Do you react that way to Dorian when he visits us here?” Solas’s delicious voice made me shift a little in his lap. He chuckled silently, likely guessing the reason.

Fel’as'san shook his head.

“When was Dorian here?”

Solas slid a gentle hand down my spine and hah, no, I hadn’t been imagining it before. An expression of deep longing rolled over Fel’as'san’s face before he shuttered it. Longing for what though, remained a question.

Solas interlaced his fingers with mine and said, “When you were in uth’en’e'r'a, Lahn and I gathered your sib, Varric, Dorian, and had a speaking gem for Sera, Josie, and Dame Victoria to cast their votes. We wanted to make the right decision for you.”

I skated my fingers over Solas's jawline. “You did. Varric hasn’t been around?”

“I suspect he may be avoiding me because of what happened the night of the ritual.”

I sighed. “Well, it wasn’t a good night for anyone involved, I’m sure.”

Looking away to hide how his gaze followed my movements whenever I caressed Solas, Fel’as'san murmured, “Dinner will be served soon. Lucanis has made Paella.”

“Oh, torn sails. I haven’t had a good Paella since Josie tried to show me how to make it.”

Fel’as'san cocked a dark brown eyebrow over a purple eye, his were a shade or so darker than Solas’s. “Tried?”

“I never have been able to cook rice.”

Fel’as'san had a wide, mischievous grin that was nothing like Solas’s more restrained smiles or Lahn’s slow, sensual grins.

“Will you join us? I know you probably don’t need to eat, but you’re welcome to join us for company.”

Surprise flashed over Fel’as'san’s countenance. “I’m surprised you asked. But I shall decline for tonight, at least in this shape. I’ll be there in the ferny spirit form though, I usually get anything people might need.”

“Just know you’re welcome, you’re family, too.”

Another flash of surprise, but he stood, bowed, then disappeared through the wall.

I looked up at Solas. “Why was he surprised?”

“Probably because the way you approach family is nothing like anything he has ever experienced. None of us have. Lahn's bonds with his Sentinels are possibly the closest any of us have achieved.”

“Hmm. Well. Family is important, and we take care of each other. At least in my world.”

Solas leaned to whisper in my ear, his warm breath made me shiver. “Will you dream with me one night soon?”

My lips turned up. “Are you asking me on a date?”

Solas’s eyes sparkled and he had a bit of mischievousnous to his grin now, too. “I am, Vhen’an. If you would enjoy that with me. I have a fancy to experience something with you we have never properly done together.”

My gaze dropped to his lips before I yanked it back to his beautiful eyes. “There are a lot of things we’ve never done properly.”

“I am a very wicked person, ma Vhen’an. I have no intention of telling you what it shall be. I will pull you into my dream tomorrow night unless you tell me differently.”

I made a face at him, dropped a kiss on his nose then slid very reluctantly off his lap. I fastened the leather around my wrist and balanced on my cane while Solas disappeared to clean up a little in the attached washroom. I wandered over to look at the painting of me on the wall.

Solas came up behind me. “One of my favourite memories of you.”

“Ridiculous elf talking to herbs?” I looked up at him.

“Beautiful, untouchable elf thanking the herbs and magic that healed her people.”

I pursed my lips at him and then smiled.

He offered me his arm. I rested my stump on it.

“I wish I could heal that for you. Though if you asked Shay, they might be able to teach you enough about shape shifting that you might regrow it yourself.”

I shrugged. “I’m used to it. One of us needs to tell Rook who they really are.”

Solas nodded silently as he led me to join Lahn.

He looked up and smiled at the sight of us. “Two of the most desired people in my life,” he murmured, then stood to walk along with us.

The double doors of the kitchen opened for us, and almost immediately, a high pitched squeal of, “Oh, by the green! Is that The Inquisitor?”

A lovely, dark haired elf clapped her hands over her mouth.

I muttered in both my guy’s heads, ‘I have a headache.’

Their silent laughter echoed in my mind.

I frowned. Then, using my cane, walked over to where Rook had their feet on the table, a deep grimace on their face, and their chair tipped back on two legs.

Before they’d fully registered my presence, I swept my stump up under their feet and lifted them high.

They automatically did a backwards cartwheel and landed in a crouch, one hand caught the chair before it could clatter to the floor. “Sule, seriously.”

“Yes, seriously, Bird-face. Mamae would scold your ears maroon if she saw you with your feet on the table. How rude.”

“Hmph.” They grumped at me but flipped their chair around to straddle it. They folded their arms over the back.

I rubbed their shoulder. “You’ll find someone else.”

“I need someone to take the hits and draw enemies attention so the rest of us can attack from the sides.”

A dark-haired Antivan who moved like liquid death brought steaming plates of food to the table while Fel’as'san, in frondy mode, set the table.

Oh my. That was a very nice voice.

“I may have an answer for that, if you wouldn’t mind another Crow signing on?”

I went to sit between my two guys and watched how Rook handled it.

“How much?” they muttered sourly.

“I would imagine Teia and Viago would like their daughter back at the end of all this alive. But Amaranta would like more field experience. Teia and Viago agreed.”

“Let’s go meet her tomorrow. And thank you for the suggestion.”

Lucanis, since as far as I knew, we only had one deadly Antivan hanging around, nodded and fetched the last of a truly enormous spread.

“You must have been cooking most of the day! Lucanis, is it?”

“Lady Inquisitor.” He bowed deeply. “Yes. Of house Dellamorte. And the Caretaker helps a lot.”

I cast an amused glance at Fel’as'san. “Interesting to know the Caretaker spirit can cook.”

“He has always been able to,” Solas said as he leaned back in his chair.

“Unlike you, ma Vhen'an.” Lahn’s voice vibrated with deep amusement.

Solas grimaced. “One cannot be skilled at everything.”

I chuckled. “It’s okay. Rook can’t cook either.”

“I shall start learning tomorrow,” Solas muttered.

I knew for a fact that the answering mutter from Rook was an insult, but couldn’t tell which one from the other end of the table. Solas had put me at the head.

Fel’as'san filled everyone’s plates at the same time, his form sparkling with green Fade light.

What passed after that wasn’t the most uncomfortable dinner I’ve ever experienced, but it certainly wasn’t the nicest. I made sure to compliment Lucanis a few times. Even if Fel’as'san helped, the meal had been Lucanis’s mental creation. I also thanked ‘the Caretaker’ often.

The dark haired elf watching me with wide, halla-like eyes filled with hero-worship was probably Bel'la'ra. The pretty, dark haired mage from the night of the battle had a Tevene accent similar to Dorian’s. So definitely upper class. Harding… I restrained my desire to frown. What had changed her so much from the competent, no nonsense, good natured scout I’d once enjoyed talking to? She talked with Bel'la'ra about bows the whole meal. Apparently the Tevene mage’s name was Neve, and Fel’as'san had been right. I couldn’t put a finger on it, but there was something off there. It would bear watching.

I smiled at Fel’as'san, who fumbled my plate as he cleared it. I repressed my smirk, thanked both him and Lucanis again, then excused myself with the truth.

I was absolutely exhausted.

Today had been the busiest day I’d had in a while, and even though the lights hadn’t dimmed yet, I was ready for bed and then some.

Chapter Text

ROOK

I stayed to help clean up. Waving Bel'la'ra and Neve off when they offered to help. We'd all learned how particular Lucanis was with his cooking blades so there wasn’t really room for more. I piled an extra plate with swirling patterns of gold vines around the edge with some of the leftovers.

“Still hungry?” The splash of water on dishes came from beside me as Lucanis did them.

“Nae. Shay wasn’t at dinner. I figured I’d drop some off. It’s too delicious to miss out on.”

Lucanis chuckled nigh silently. “There are some good Antivan reds in the bottom of the large wine rack if you’d like to share some with your paramour.”

“Am I really that obvious?” Though whether I was or not didn’t really matter to me very much. Shay had already made their desire clear.

Lucanis leaned across my back to grab some used glasses. I froze as his body heat sank into me. Couldn’t mistake that for anything but an expression of interest. When he stood he didn’t move back. Just whispered, “To someone observant and interested, yes.”

A little groan-sigh escaped me and I pressed back against him. Yup. Those muscles were just as nice as I’d imagined. “Aren’t you as good as affianced? To a potential crew member we’re going to meet tomorrow?”

Lucanis let his breath caress the pointed tip of my ear and I shivered. Elf ears were so damned sensitive, and he obviously knew that. “Nothing has been contracted, but much as I tease us both, I would need to know you better. Viago has always warned me to be wary of snakes in closets.”

I chuckled. A vicious swirl of darkness lacing through my laughter. “You may wish to avoid my armoire then. Because I am certainly a viper. And I bite.”

Torn sails in a hurricane. The grumbly purring noise Lucanis made should be fucking illegal.

“Stop being so attractive or we’ll both have regrets in the morning.”

Well, he might. But that was more than enough.

I let out a slow breath and finished preparing my gifts. It was only polite to offer food before asking someone to fuck you until you couldn’t think anymore. Couldn’t feel anything but them.

I looked back over my shoulder at Lucanis as he finished drying dishes. “The interest is returned, by the way.” I winked at him and went through the automatic double doors.

I asked the Caretaker where Shay was. It always seemed to know where everyone was. It gestured toward the tower like rooms Shay had claimed as their own with a single frond.

As if they’d expected me, or someone else, the reflective glass stairs spiraling to the courtyard still hovered in place. I trotted up them and knocked with my elbow.

“Come in, Rook.”

How did they always know it was me? I balanced everything on one arm and pushed the unlatched door open. A short, green tiled hall led to a steamy bathing chamber. Shay reclined on a massage table with several comfort spirits retreating from them. They currently had tan skin, disturbingly blue eyes and flowing, slightly curly blue-black hair. A hint of scruff covered their sculpted jaw. My gaze dropped to firmly defined lips, then muscled chest before I could control myself.

“You weren’t there, so I brought you some food.”

They fluttered their lashes at me and came to take the plate, leaving me with a bag of wine. “Your sister and I need to speak somewhat privately before we break bread together. Besides, you know I don’t need to eat.”

“No, but you enjoy it a great deal.”

Shay tilted their head. “You noticed that?”

“You’re a little hard to not notice, Shay.”

They wore a short white pareo around their toned hips, numerous gold bangles, earrings and nothing else. Their energy was all Shay though. They smiled that slow, sensual smile at me and gestured at the steps.

“Come upstairs.”

They led the way through a floor furnished as a magical laboratory, another as a library, and farther to a lounge. Chaises and soft floor pillows created a welcoming space. Through a set of draping, red velvet curtains was their bedroom, candles lit the rooms until they gleamed as bright as daylight. The heavy scent of warm beeswax and gardenia filled the apartment. “Are you expecting someone?”

They chuckled a deep bass laugh. “None other than you.” They sat on one chaise and gestured to the other. Not shy, they ate neatly.

“Is there anything I should know?”

“I’ll consume ambient energy released by either pleasure or pain. It’s nothing you’re not already putting out.”

I reclined on my side. “But could you? Take more than ambient energy?”

Their eyes crinkled with amusement. They finished eating, wiped their mouth and chuckled. “I could. And have.”

“Will you with me?”

“Nae. I did it once, voluntarily, and hated every second. Positive emotions must be given willingly as a concious choice.” They wrinkled their nose. “Otherwise they taste awful.”

“So what are the rules here?” I widened my eyes and dramatically laid a hand over my upper chest to signal I wasn’t serious. “Am I signing away my soul?” I didn’t drop their gaze, but couldn’t help fiddling with the dangling end of my belt. I forced my foot to be still even though it wanted to twitch.

They snorted, their eyes gleaming with amusement. “Hardly. What would I do with your spirit?” They lifted a graceful hand and rotated it at the wrist before making a walking motion with two fingers as they said, “Besides, you kind of need it to do the running around saving the world thing.”

I pulled out and uncorked a bottle of wine.

Shay waved their hand and two glasses appeared. I poured into both and Shay said, “May we finish talking first, please?”

I put the bottle down then sat on the edge of the arm of the chaise with my feet in the seat. “It needs to breathe, anyway.” I tilted my head. Concious, unaffected consent really was important to them. “Wise of you. I’ve never had sex with a spirit. At least, that I know of.” Though… Anders maybe counted?

“I appreciate you not calling me a demon.”

“As far as I can tell, you’re no more a demon than Solas is.” Why did Solas have to come to mind? Ugh. Yuck.

“True. You don’t like him. Why?” They tilted their head in that familiar way. “With their bonding, aren’t Sulahn’nehn and Solas your… what do the Dalish call it? Las Halam’shi’r?” 

I made a sour face. “I’m still hoping Sule’din will come to her senses about Solas. But yes. If they keep each other, I would be duty bound to him, as I would to any of my family or people.” I blew out my breath in a heavy sigh. “As to why? To be honest, it’s a lot of things. And things I don’t even understand myself. I just can’t stand him.”

“I honestly doubt she won’t keep him. They’re as awkward with each other as two courting storks right now, but she’s been in love with him at least since she killed me.” Shay sighed. "And to my never ending surprise, he's in utterly impassioned love with her."

“That’s a story I need to hear. Before anything goes further. And why is it a surprise that he's in love with Sule’din?”

Shay smirked. “I’d been lured into working for a bad person. My morals… well.” They shrugged. “I’d been considering departure for some time, she and I fought in Emprise du Lion around twelve years ago. I shifted into smaller and smaller demon forms until I could sneak away as a fly. She didn’t actually kill me. Technically, she freed me from an increasingly unpleasant situation. But she probably thinks she did. If no one has told her my tricks yet. I need to make peace with any ill feelings she has from our encounter.”

I relaxed. Sule’din had a bad habit of being too forgiving. She’d make peace with Shay. For my sake if nothing else. Shay was rather happily helping me slaughter bad guys, after all.

Shay’s bass chuckle sent shivers down my spine. “She’s already forgiven Solas. Where it matters. I doubt you’ll be rid of him.”

“Ewwww, yuck. I do not want that banal’vhen’an as a brother by… marriage, bonding, whatever.” (Asshole/heartless. )

"As for why I find it surprising..." A look of broken loss shot through their eyes as fast as a minnow through shallows. If I hadn’t been paying close attention, I'd have missed it. "Solas and I have encountered each other enough over time that we know one another, to some extent. Usually, once someone has loved and lost before, or reached my age, we learn better than to allow emotions to get involved. It's especially shocking to me because she was mortal when he fell." They shook their head with a odd smile. "He's never struck me as the type to let anything or anyone distract him from his duty for even a moment. I didn’t honestly think he had it in him. Not that helpless, desperate, longing, would do almost anything for someone sort of love."

I groaned and called Solas a few more names in my head. "I've already learned that particular lesson the hard way. And you're right, it won't be happening again." 

Compassion flitted through Shay’s eyes. “Would you like to know why you dislike him?” Knowledge swam heavily in their expression.

“I… no.”

They shrugged languidly. “I suppose the journey is part of the process. Do you have any boundaries?”

Back on more familiar and comfortable ground, I said, “Nothing around my wrists or throat.”

Their gaze flicked to the scars on my wrists. “Understood. How do you feel about extra appendages?” They stood and moved toward me.

My eyebrows shot to my hairline. This was the weirdest pre-sex talk I’d ever had.

Shay chuckled at my expression. “I told you I can do things you’ve probably never experienced before.” Soft as silk tentacles unspiraled from their back. They used one to offer a glass of wine to me.

“Oh. Extras. Huh. I’m definitely curious.”

“Any kind of physical sex okay?”

“Lots of prep and warning for anal. I enjoy it but…” I held up a scarred wrist.

“Understood. Drink your wine before I strip you and have my very wicked way with you.”

“Hold up. What about yours?”

A confused frown creased their brow. “My what?”

“Boundaries.”

Shock filled their eyes for a moment before they hid most of it. They lifted my chin with a softly curled tendril to search my eyes. “You are an odd one. I’ve lived for millenia and you’re one of less than three hundred who have ever asked. I don’t have any. Not when it comes to the hungers between people.” They stepped slightly closer and a tentacle curled around my waist. Their voice pitched lower, and held a breathless quality to it. “Sex, Birth, Life, Killing, Death, Creation, Destruction, it is all sacred to me.”

I sipped my wine, wondering for a moment if I were making a huge mistake. Amusement danced in Shay’s eyes as they drank. They licked a ruby droplet from their bottom lip and tilted their head. “Choice spirit.”

They were giving me an out, but I really didn’t want one. The scent of them, musky sandalwood and the drying hay of oud, the sensual glide of leather, and the heavy sweetness of gardenia made my mouth water. I drained my glass then put it down before sliding off the chaise arm and stepping forward to caress their hard chest with the palms of my hands. Light gleamed off the rings in their pointed ears. I slid my hands up over their hard shoulders to offer my mouth for a kiss. They tightened the tentacle around my waist, lifted me to a better height, and I gasped as excitement thrilled through me.

I ran my fingers into their loosely curling hair and kissed them. I groaned deep in my chest as they opened their mouth to me. Soft tendrils caressed up my dangling legs and they sucked my tongue into them. I pressed closer, revelling in the flavour of them. Antivan red, a hint of Paella and their own flavour of spearmint and fresh blood. My hips twisted in need.

Heat rose between us fast as an exploding volcano and I whimpered when they filled their hands with my ass cheeks to pull me closer. Their hard cock made me ache.

I pulled back and whispered, “Put me down.”

They stole a last hungry kiss before doing so.

Biting my lower lip and hot as a teen Elf at their first Ar’lath’vhen, I reached forward to gently wrap a tendril around my fingers. I stepped back and around the chaise, tugging them toward their bed. “I choose to be here and I choose to enjoy a night of physical pleasure with you. If it’s your choice as well, what are you waiting for?”

Their gleaming blue eyes tracked my movements and they gathered bottles and glasses in their ‘extras’ as they followed me.

My heart raced and my breathing grew choppier. I’d wanted Shay since the first moment I’d met them. My mouth kicked up on the side. “You've drawn my attention since the first moment I saw you working on the Dumat, you know.”

They smiled. “I know. I wasn’t ever certain if you’d come to this point with me. I’ve wanted you just as long. You have such intriguing depths.” They twirled me around with the tentacle wrapping my waist. Soft clicks sounded from bottles and glasses meeting the dark, cherry wood. They stepped close behind me and their body heat warmed me. Now there was a fantasy, Shay, me, and Lucanis.

Shay gently gathered my hair and pulled it to the top of my head. Another tendril dropped some pins into their hand and they secured it.

“Is touching your neck and throat okay?”

I shuddered at the longing in their voice. A year or more in coming, this encounter. “Yes. It’s only having things around certain areas that can make me panic. And me in a panic usually ends up with a lot of dead people.”

They nuzzled behind my earlobe and whispered, “I assume you murdered them yourself? If not, I’d be very pleased to roll around in their intestines before hanging them by them.”

That… should not be a sexy image, but somehow, the barest hint of caring the words indicated touched me. Even though Shay would likely happily kill most things. Oh, they were dangerous, this was dangerous. It just made me shiver in need. I chuckled low in my chest. “Oh, yes. They died creatively. Remind me later and I’ll share the memory if you’d like that.”

The warmth of Shay’s mouth on me, where shoulder met neck made me gasp. A swift dart of their tongue made everything tighten and tingle.

“You have understood exactly what I am from the moment our eyes met. Because some of the same darkness lives in you. The same sanguine need for violence, bloodletting. And pleasure. No entanglement, no expectations, just pleasure.”

They kissed hungrily down my shoulder as their hands found my muscled stomach. The heat of them made me arch into their palms. Two tendrils stripped me of my sleeveless shirt then unlaced my tight fitting support top and gently brushed the straps down my arms. I inhaled sharply when they slid their hands up to hold and cup my breasts. Shay’s mouth found my earlobe and they gently squeezed their hands. My knees grew weak, my lower belly tightened in need and I pressed back against them. They lavished both ears with sultry attention, leaving my brain mush, before pulling back a little.

“Do you have a type of body you’d prefer?”

I made a moaning sound and turned my head to nibble on their jawline. “I’m hungry. Do I need to pick just one?”

“With me, never.”

Tendrils teasingly slipped up the backs of my thighs and into the legs of my loose fitting pants. As silky as skin could be, they aroused me and made me ache. One darted teasingly between my legs from behind, softly tracing my wet folds, barely touching.

“Hot and wet already.”

I wrapped an arm around their neck and twisted enough that I could press our lips together. “I’m fast and easy to arouse.”

Just the tip of the tendril between my legs slipped inside me and I gasped against Shay’s mouth. They slid their tongue inside to taste me again. They kept massaging my breasts as some extras untied my pants and slid them down my thighs. Shay trailed my wet up between my cheeks and over my asshole before letting the pants fall to the floor.

“Can you feel everything you do with those?”

“Of course, and the way you feel makes me want to slide my cock into you right now.”

I pressed my ass against their girth behind me. “I can’t take you yet, much as I’d really like to.”

A startled eep escaped me as they lifted me and turned me with the thick tentacle around my waist.

“Oh, I’ve no intention of hurrying things, I’ve wanted you much too long for that.” Their voice and eyes held a teasing patience that made my lips turn up.

I tensed as their tendrils lifted me and relaxed when they gently lay me out on the bed. One stayed around my waist, two caressed my breasts, and two more traced the outside of my thighs.

“Your willing prisoner. Whatever shall you do with me?” I teased.

Their voice had dropped deep and husky. “Please you until you don’t know your own name.”

I twisted in need, my nipples tingling. “Yes, please. Come here.”

Shay crawled up to lounge next to me, pillowing their cheek on one hand. They traced a line from the V of my collarbones to my belly button. Their gaze followed the path everywhere they touched. “I’ve seen lauded works of art less stunning than you.”

I chuckled, amused. “I’m a scarred, battered, ex-enslaved galley worker. Beauty isn’t something that applies, if it ever did.”

“Ach. Nae, Ha’lin’sulahn. (Old blood song). You are the artwork, Rook.” Their beguiled gaze followed the tendril that traced over a nasty scar on my hip. Then trailed over the gleaming silver line across my belly that had been one of my earliest wounds.

“Every scar, every mark. They celebrate that sacred threshold between life and death, blood and pain. They are what make you beautiful, Leth'al’len.”

I lifted my fingers to trace their lips, they caught one and sucked it inside and I gasped as my nipples tightened around my rings. “And you call me a strange one. Many have been repulsed by my scars. Inside and out.”

Shay let my finger go with a slight nibble and met my eyes. Passion and ancient power flirted with playfulness. They traced a finger over an eyebrow. “Your eyes swim with murderous depths that fascinate me. When you smile at the thought of killing…" They shivered in lust. “I find myself wanting to strip you naked and roll in death with you.”

They watched me for a moment until I laughed. “Waiting for me to run?”

Their mouth lifted at the corner. “Not really. But you wouldn’t be the first.”

I leaned into them, looking deeply into their eyes. “I know what I am, Shay. Dark, vicious, deadly, a pirate blessed with bloodlust. Your you doesn’t frighten me. It arouses me.”

“You probably should be afraid of me. Many have been. For good reasons. People have rightfully run screaming from me before.”

I chuckled as I rolled to my side to bring our mouths together. I whispered against their lips, “Choice spirit.”

Their laugh rumbled in their chest and they pulled me closer. My breasts squashed deliciously against their hard chest. I slid my fingers over their smooth flesh, and kissed them thoroughly. By the green, they tasted so good. I shifted my thighs, hunger crashing into arousal like a tidal wave.

They ran a big hand and several extras slowly down my back. Tracing every single mark. “Bullwhip?” They breathed the word into my ear and sucked the lobe into their mouth. I shivered and moaned softly.

“Cat o’three. I pissed off the captain a time or ten. It’s truly shocking, what a horrible servant I made. He died slowest.” Unlike many who’d suffered harm, it rarely bothered me to talk about my experiences. It usually bothered others. There was something so… freeing to be my honest self with a lover.

They filled their hands with my ass cheeks and pulled me tightly to them. Their hard cock made me ache to be filled. They feasted on the length of my neck, down the curve of my shoulder, then pressed me back against the bedding to lower their mouth to my nipples. The warmth made me gasp and I held their head close. A gentle tentacle nudged my knees apart, another joined it to delicately trace designs on the inside of my thighs. Slowly getting closer to where I needed to be touched.

I clenched a hand in the bedding and moaned in my chest. “Shay. Please.”

They chuckled, dark and wicked. “You plead so prettily. I wonder, how much could I make you beg?”

“As badly as I want you? Quite a bit. But do you really want to make me beg?” I slid my hands over their hard shoulders, the warm silk of their flesh teased me. I needed. I’d grown slippery and wet with my desire.

Shay kissed their way back up to meet my gaze. A puckish smile curling their lips. They purred like a cat.

My lower belly tightened and my clit throbbed.

“Nae. What I want is you. To be in you and with you.” A gentle tentacle finally touched me where I needed it most. The tip slowly traced my wet folds.

Their sharp white teeth bit into their lower lip. And a hint of mischievousnous filled their gaze. Another tendril ran up across my hip and wrapped wet warmth around my clit, then sucked. My eyes rolled back in my head and a gasp turned into a rising moan. The tip of the tendril tracing my folds disappeared only to return, slippery with my desire.  

“Look at me?” Shay’s voice was breathless as they watched me twist and need.

I opened my eyes. I rarely let someone have my gaze when I came. Afraid that they’d see something they’d hate. That fear didn’t exist with Shay. They worshipped my darkness as much as my life.

They swallowed and two thicker tendrils wrapped around my thighs, gently pulling them apart. The tip of the tentacle at my entrance slowly slipped inside and I made an obscene, strangled, moaning sound. My breathing grew choppier and I held myself still as they slid slowly into me. Pulling out, then easing inside. It felt different from anything I’d experienced before but fuck, it felt good. More giving than a cock, but hard enough to slide inside my tight muscles, pressing them apart. My thighs trembled where Shay held them wide and my fingers dug into the bedding on one side and the hair at the nape of Shay’s neck as they pressed into me.  

They hissed in pleasure and their pupils widened. I dug my teeth into my lower lip. Heat ran from my aching clit, up my belly, and through my breasts to my shoulders. Down my back, pooling at the waist then circling around to centre on my aching cunt.

Shay buried their tentacle deep inside me, then they made it swell, stretching me around them. A whine of pure pleasure escaped me as I fucking exploded. “Fuck, Shay, yes!” Then I could barely hold their gaze as they pulled harder on my clit, sucking and caressing, sliding out and pressing into me again. My back arched off the bed and the way they held my thighs let me grind myself onto them as they fucked me. Trembling, I eased back down against the pillows. They released my clit to let me recover but didn’t withdraw from me. They cupped my jaw with one hand and turned my face to kiss me hungrily.

I hummed a sound of approval into their mouth as they twisted that tendril inside me. They quickly had me almost sobbing in need again. Before they drove me too high, I slid my hands down over their lower belly and unfastened their pareo. Then filled my palm with their throbbing length. “Em’ma Sa’l’in," I whispered against their mouth. (I want you within me.)

They nibbled my lower lip. “Soon. I need to taste you first.”

They withdrew their tendril and crawled to kneel between my thighs. They tied a knot in their hair, met my eyes, and lay on their belly. Then they fastened their mouth around my clit. They rubbed me just right and I arched into them. Soft tendrils kept caressing me everywhere until I could barely string two thoughts together. My belly tightened and wetness slicked my folds. Shay’s tongue should be considered a deadly instrument the way they had me writhing under them. They buried it deeply in me and growled low in their chest in enjoyment.

A tendril with warm oil on it teased my asshole and I gasped. Then made myself relax.

They used soft, gentle presses, working me open. Readying me for more. It made me wiggle, needing.

“Shay, please, you’re torturing me.”

They lifted their head, smiled slyly, then said, “Good. Don’t worry, Kitten. You’ll have me everywhere before dawn’s light.”

My cunt pulsed and fluttered and Shay slid two lubed fingers into me. They curled the tips back toward them, caressing a spot right near my entrance that made me explode again. Shay’s teeth gently scraped the underside of my clit and I clenched up with a groan.

They groaned too. “By the Fade, you feel amazing around me.”

They pressed deeper, then retreated, working me open until I could easily take them.

I touched the enchanted rune tattooed into my hip and it gleamed for a moment, protecting me from pregnancy and disease.

“Come up here, please.”

Shay crawled up my body and I fed hungrily at their mouth while caressing their chest, back, and neck. My flavour on their tongue made me hotter. I ran my hands over every inch of bared flesh I could reach. “Fuck me.”

Their voice had gone growly with need. “Is this position okay?”

“Yes. Fuck me.”

They moved in between my thighs, a tendril lubricating their cock.

“That’s definitely not needed though I appreciate it.”

They came to me, kissing me deeply as they kept my thighs pinned wide and slid the tip of themselves over me, my wet slick coated us both and I gasped.

“Hold still, Kitten,” they whispered against my mouth.

I bit my lip and held still. Shay flexed their hips, pressing slowly into me. A bare half inch at a time. In, then back. I'd turned into a dripping, trembling mess by the time they'd snugged themselves deeply into me. A whimper of pleasure escaped them and I squeezed tightly around them, the whimper turned into a moan. I twisted against them, needing to come so bad I could taste it.

“Patience, Leth'al’len.”

They tortured me with a slow pace for a time before slightly adjusting their position so they could slide a tendril between us. Wet suction surrounded my clit and I bucked against Shay with a desperate whine.

A teasing tentacle touched my asshole while Shay kept torturing us both with their slow pace.

I nodded, then whispered, “Yes.” I kissed them again and relaxed. They pressed their cock deeply into me and held still. Then, they guided a fragrantly oiled, thick tendril into place, I trembled, aching. Kissing them as Shay teased my ass with it. I moaned, needing it.

Slowly and carefully they slid the tip into my ass. They pulled back to watch my face, their gaze so intense as they took in every reaction. I’d rarely been watched so intently. My breathing raced as they held me still with the tentacles around my thighs.

“Tell me to stop if you need me to.” The slick tendril pressed deeper, the tight, hard orgasm I experienced with ass sex built in me. I pressed my head back into a pillow but let them hold my gaze as they filled me that way, too. So tightly filled I could barely breathe right. My thighs trembled and I curled enough that I could grab Shay’s shoulders. “Fuck, fuck, fuuuuuuuuck.” The words rolled out of me as pleasure winged through me like a storm. From my lower back, up my shoulders to my tingling breasts, around my waist and down from my nipples to my clit. Warmth and delicious pressure built and built and with a sharp cry I went over the edge. My fingernails dug into their shoulders and they hissed in pleasure.

I tightened up around them and they let out a low curse.

Shay cursed again before withdrawing the tendril and sliding it back inside. They braced their forehead against mine. I traced my callused palms up the back of their muscular neck and buried my fingers in their hair. Soft and curling around my fingers. I gently pulled the knot free so it would fall loosely. I arched into the tentacles playing with my breasts.

“You’re like hot silk around me. Tight and soft.” They groaned when I clenched around them.

“Fuck.” They flexed their hips and set an alternating rhythm between cock and extra that had me almost crying with pleasure.

They kissed me deeply, we wrapped and teased one another’s tongues as we drove each other higher, always straining for more. We both breathed raggedly. Choppy moans and muffled curses accompanied the slick sound of us.

“Ah, fuck, fuck, fuck,” I chanted like the prayer it was and tightened up hard around Shay a third time. This time I completely soaked us and the absorbant towel beneath us, wetting our joining with my warmth. My cries were absorbed by the soft fabric all around us.

They lost it, slammed me hard a few times and bathed me with heat deep inside. They groaned deeply as they came. I jerked and clenched around them in pleasure again.

Shay’s tendrils slid off my thighs and I wrapped my legs around them. “Do you enjoy this?” I murmured, pulling their hips tightly against me. They moved the tentacles around my breasts, and I pulled them down on top of me.

Their voice still breathless they murmured, “I don’t often have the opportunity, but yes, I do enjoy it.” They tossed their hair away from our faces as they eased the tendril out of my ass. Then pillowed their head so that we could look into each other’s eyes. “Your eyes have started to glow.”

“Mmm. Scared the shit out of myself the other night going to the washroom.”

Shay’s chuckle moved them inside me.

“Is shapechanging something anyone can learn?”

“Any mage, yes. And yes, I’ll teach you.”

“It’s surpringly relaxing that you read my mind like that. Words aren’t always easy for me. If I’d ever thought about it, I’d have assumed I’d hate it.”

“I’m not actually reading your mind. You don’t shield your thoughts. It’s like having you whisper secrets to me.”

“Interesting experience of living you must have. I can’t imagine most people do.”

“It's usually only mages that are loud enough to hear.”

They rolled, their tendrils gone for now, and draped me over them like a blanket. Still buried deeply inside me. They pulled a velvety throw up around us. My head naturally lay against where their heart beat.

“Could you? Read my mind?”

“After all my secrets?”

They chuckled and I pressed down, enjoying the stretch of them.

“Nae. Don’t tell me anything you’d rather not. I’m just a curious person.”

They laughed softly and their cock jerked inside me, setting a low burn of pleasure again. “Why do you think I call you Kitten? You’re as insatiably curious as one and you definitely have sharp claws.” They briefly caressed my hips where my blades usually rested. Then traced gentle fingers down my spine. “With your mind unshielded, I could read it. But that’s a violation without consent.”

“Go ahead. I promised you a memory.”

“I don’t need to. If you think of it I’ll be able to pick it up without violating your mind.”

I nuzzled into their neck and thought of the delightfully cruel murder I’d treated the captain to.

“Oh, Rook,” they crooned breathlessly. “You do know the way to my heart.”

With an amused curl to my lips I lifted up to brace the backs of my arms against their chest. I cupped my chin in my hands and met their gaze.

“Isn’t the way to a person’s heart through their stomach?”

“Fourth rib on the left is usually more efficient.”

I giggled and kissed them lightly. Thoroughly enjoying them and our time together.

Their gaze grew sultry again. “Sit up,” they murmured. Their form fluidly melded into a slimmer, rounder form. Their beautiful breasts made my hands itch to touch, and I gasped as they thrust their cock up into me.

I ran my hands up from their waist to cup and caress their breasts. I found a rhythm that rubbed my clit against them with every motion and groaned. Their eyes rolled back into their head and they bit their lip. Their cries were higher pitched now. I leaned into them to press breast to breast and took their plumper, softer mouth with mine. I kept moving for us. Driving us both higher again.

“You’re getting tighter around me,” they murmured into my ear. “Let me see you?”

Close, I sat up, held their gaze, and adjusted my knees so I could move faster. “Mppph.” The sound slipped from between my teeth and my lip as heat raced through me like expensive liquor to centre on my clit. It throbbed and jerked against Shay's belly and they ran soft, delicate hands up to my breasts to tightly pinch my nipples. I arched my back and exploded, tightening rhythmically around them. Shuddering, I didn’t slow my pace. I ground myself onto them until their breathing grew choppier and their eyes wild in that pre-orgasmic rush. Long, slim fingers wrapped around my hips and pulled me close as they slammed up into me, driving me over the peak and spurting heat into me again.

“Fuck, Rook,” they murmured as I collapsed on my palms. “I wasn’t entirely sure if you’d like that.”

“I think that was a dream I’d wanted to try without ever knowing I wanted it,” I breathlessly said and buried my hand in their silky black hair. “Parts haven’t ever mattered to me.”

“Me either. I’m every sex and gender or none.”

“I wish it were that easy for me. I’m stuck as this sex. My gender changes by the hour.”

“I wouldn’t call it easy. Shape-shifting is advanced magic.” They lifted their head and kissed me. “But once you learn how, it will be possible for you, too.”

Oh. They were dangerous. So easily promising me my heart’s deepest desire. Offering me something I’d rarely experienced with a lover since my escape. Acceptance.

‘Careful, Rook.’ I cautioned myself. ‘Careful.’

Chapter Text

Letter to readers

I’m deeply sorry if you came to read another chapter only to find this instead. Though, I’m pretty sure like 3 people are actively reading it, and I’ve told them already.

So, hey. I feel awful about this but regularly updating my fic with little encouragement in the form of comments is apparently really shitty for my mental health.

I’m, at time of posting this, still writing this story. I want to finish it. I am writing it for me. (To help me get over my disappointment with Veilguard.) It has succeeded in doing this, so has, essentially served its purpose.

I’m not orphaning it, I’m not walking away from it, I still want to finish it. I still love my version of these characters and my version of this story. But if my interest starts to wane, well, I tried. Thems the breaks.

One of the things few people tell you about having ADHD is one of the more dangerous to our mental health things we can do to ourselves.

Yes, you've probably heard of ADHD, but may not actually understand? ADHD is either an inability to make or an inability to process dopamine like an average neurotypical brain does. Science isn’t quite sure yet. Your average ADHDer usually has 3x less dopamine currently available for their brain than regular people do.

Dopamine is what makes us happy, but more than that, it plays key roles in forming habits, with motivation, with enjoyment of some activities, and with emotional regulation. There’s a lot more that dopamine does than that but I’m writing a note, not an essay. (I'm trying to, anyway 😅.)

Back to the dangerous to ADHD folks behavior we can do to ourselves.

Dopamine chasing.

It is so insidious. I know to be wary of it.

Our brains need dopamine to function. Dopamine chasing is where ADHD folks will do thing, enjoying activity of thing greatly. (I deeply enjoy writing this fanfic, for example.)

Then something makes our brains unconsciously (sometimes conciously) think they’re gonna get dopamine for thing. And if dopamine doesn’t result… it can make us crash into mental illness relapses. It’s hell, honestly.

Dopamine chasing is a form of self-harm. It can take many forms (doomscrolling is a good example). For me, currently, and what is forcing my hand here, is that my brain somewhere formed the (extremely unconscious) idea that publishing fanfic might equate to other people liking it.

Within the cosmos of Ao3, (which, yes, post from captain obvious) if people like a thing, they drop a kudos (nice, might make author feel a bump in positivity) or leave a comment (excellent! Will make person writing thing feel really good, helps with motivation, makes it feel like the time and effort of writing this thing is both appreciated and worth it. That the additional not insignificant effort of publishing thing is also worth doing.)

I’m disabled and also recovering from a pulmonary embolism (not fun, do not recommend). I have to be incredibly careful about what I spend my very limited energy on.

I have a lot of trauma in my background and a laundry list of mental health issues because of it.

When I first started writing this, I wasn’t going to post it, but my eldest kid is big into fanfic and thought I’d really enjoy it. I figured, why not. There’s a lot of people hurting because of Veilguard. Maybe it’ll help other people, too.

So I started posting it. For the first several weeks, maybe even five weeks, the hyperfixation alone was enough to keep the dopamine packet delivery system fueled.

I’m an author and editor. I’m incredibly accustomed to getting little to no feedback on my books because I don’t read reviews of my work. Reviews are for readers, they’re strictly fan space only.

I didn’t honestly think little to no interaction would be an issue. But as time went on, I got a little down, mood wise, every time I posted a new chapter. Then I found myself in a glum mood everytime I posted a new one. Today, I crashed completely after posting a chapter yesterday. A chapter I worked incredibly hard on. Smut! Which usually gets interest on Ao3, let’s be real here, kinky smut at that. With tentacles.

Unfortunately, I had to crash to figure out that I’d put myself into a position ripe for dopamine chasing.

Other than my dedicated 3 readers, (I love you all) it felt like throwing that chapter I’d worked hard on into the void to the faint sound of moth wings. I, unfortunately, can’t keep doing this to myself. It’s just hurting me at this point.

I fell (again) into the trap of dopamine chasing. Dopamine that isn’t there. Because either people aren’t reading this fic at all (except for you three, I’m very grateful to all three of you) or if they are, they’re not commenting. There’s more that went into this becoming dopamine chasing for me than I’m going into here. But it would make people feel bad so I’ll bitch about it in semi-private. So it wasn’t just the lack of interaction, I wasn’t really expecting any when this started. The lack of interaction is around 75% of the issue though. Because there is interaction on other DA fics.

How I got here doesn’t change the result of I cannot self-harm myself this way anymore.

Kudos are nice to receive. Comments are amazing to receive. And I’ve learnt my lesson about not reading anything but completed fics and not commenting much. I now prioritize WIPs and try to find something in most chapters to comment on.

The author is feeding me by posting chapters of awesome free writing. The least I can do is feed them in return.

I’ve been told the Dragon Age Fandom is utter ass about commenting on fics. Y’all do realize the long term affects of that, right? Fewer and fewer fics being finished. People will start them, get discouraged, and leave.

The odds of a fic you’re enjoying never being finished increases drastically if there’s no food (comments) for the author. I’m not sure if it’s the same for neurotypical fanfic writers or not, but for ADHDers, that interaction is very possibly more important than you can imagine. It could spell whether they ever finish the fic or not. Just like the lack of it is forcing me to finish writing it (if I do) and just bulk post it when I’m finished. I enjoyed posting weekly for a variety of reasons. But we can often enjoy things that are bad for us.

I was told not to do bulk posting when I first started publishing this fic. But if it’s the only way I can do it without feeling like shit after updating, it just has to be that way.

And to be honest, much as I’ve enjoyed writing fic, and I have so many other stories I’d love to tell… at the end of the day I’m an author and editor.

It’s how I make what little income I have. If I’m writing something, it should really be the next book. Not a fanfic that makes me feel like absolute ass every time I post a chapter. I’ve got two other chapters ready, but I’ll leave it on the sweeter note of Rook and Shay’s sexy times chapter. In case I don’t have the motivation to finish it.

At this point in time, I do intend to finish it, but I’ve got at least 20 more chapters to write for it, if not more. It’s going to be a while before I can do the update. And there’s a fair to middling chance I’ll get bored and just stop. I’ll post whatever I’ve got at that point if it looks to be happening and bid fanfic writing a not very fond farewell. It hasn’t been an overall awesome experience for me.

I have another AU dragon age fic I’m writing. It’s a Phantom of the Opera AU. Solas gets to be Phantom. I’d already chosen to bulk post that one because I keep bouncing back and forth on ideas and which characters to use to make it ‘most Phantom-y’. So I’ll post that one whenever I get it finished.

I guess this is just a sad reminder of two things.

Be ultra wary of dopamine chasing.

And

Feed your fanfic authors with comments if you want more of whatever fic you’re enjoying.

Both seem like such simple things, don’t they?

Anyway. I’ve, as usual, rambled far longer than intended.

Take care of yourselves.

Kai

Chapter Text

ROOK

Morning arrived and I woke with the dawn as I usually did. Grouchy, I went back to sleep for a while. I preferred late nights, but a Dalish camp woke at dawn. You could take a Dalish out of camp, but it stuck with a person.

The next time I woke, Shay woke with me. A soft tentacle traced down my spine and I opened my eyes only to squint them closed. Shay had a golden aura around them this morning. My eyes slowly adjusted.

They lay in bed next to me gently tracing either tattoos or scars. I pillowed my head on my crossed arms and mumbled, “Sorry. Didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“You’re adorable when you sleep, and it’s pleasant to sleep next to you.” Hair one step short of metallic gold spread in ripples across the pillow behind them, softly tanned skin and full, delicious curves almost took my breath away. Their eyes were metallic silver with a slit pupil that morning. Two silver horns swept a short distance up and curved back.

“Sleep is like food for you?”

Another stroke with a tentacle. “Mmmhmm. It’s pleasurable, and I enjoy it, but I don’t need it in the same way you might.”

“I like that form. Makes me wish I could draw. Most of your forms do.”

“Thank you, Kitten. It’s my original one. I usually revert to it if I sleep, or am unconscious for some other reason. I don’t usually wear this one, so to speak, because,” they lifted a smooth shoulder, “I didn’t design it. I usually prefer to wear my own creations.”

“If you don’t stop being so incredibly gorgeous, I’m going to have to pounce you.”

They chuckled their throaty laugh. “I do believe if you had a tail it might just be gently waving in the air like an intrigued cat.”

“Mmm. I definitely won’t deny that you are intriguing.”

They pouted prettily. “But you have to go to meet a potential crew member. Lucanis has been up since dawn.”

I burrowed my head under a pillow. “Who elected me to captain the ‘saving the world’ ship? I object.”

“Someone has to.”

“I’m the farthest thing from leadership material that there is.”

“You might be surprised by how many good leaders feel the same. Your least favourite brother by bonding is one such. “

“Wasn’t he some sort of ancient Ar’lath’an prince or something?”

“Or something.”

“He’s very firm he’s not a god. I think Varric’s whiskers almost froze off when he figured there wasn’t a difference between a mage of Solas’s strength and a god.”

“He’s always hated the whole ‘they were gods’ thing. At least in the time I’ve known him.”

I groaned and stretched. “Fine. I’m awake. Do you want to come to Treviso? You’re welcome to.”

“Lucanis is too tempting, Kitten. I’ll stay here and study. Solas has opened his libraries for us.”

“Another reason I’m gonna be a shitty mage. I don’t like studying unless I’m already interested in something. And if I’m bored, you might as well try to teach a stone for all I’ll remember.” I sat up and let my feet drop to the floor. I pulled my left arm around in front of me and put gentle pressure on it until the shoulder joint popped more comfortably into place.

“Injury?”

“Sort of? Not from fighting though, I dislocated it when I scarred my wrists. Hasn’t been the same since.”

“Healing isn’t my greatest gift. But Solas should be able to fix it.”

“No, thank you.”

They chuckled behind me. “You really don’t like him.”

“I don’t even remotely understand what Sule’din sees in him.”

Shay snorted. “Have you suddenly been struck blind?”

I rolled my eyes and went about finding where all my clothes had landed. “Fine. He’s… pretty. And just admitting that leaves a foul taste in my mouth. So that’s the best you’re getting. His faults absolutely outweigh that.”

“Your family reunions are going to be miserable if you don’t work on that.”

I grumbled low in my chest as I shrugged into my support top and started lacing it up. “Odds are I won’t make it through this war so it’s irrelevant. I’ll deal with it if I do. Or not.”

“What will you do? After?”

I pulled on my pants and started searching for my shirt. I shrugged. “Go back to treasure hunting and using the crap I find to rescue more enslaved people. I doubt defeating the e’v’an’u’ris will change the state of Thedas all that much.”

“Magical, immortal elves and the veil being down will.” They dangled my top in front of me on one of their extras.

“Thanks.” I pulled it on and started lacing the front closed. Breasts were so inconvenient. “You know, it’s weird. I haven’t seen much change in the real. Everyone was certain we’d be neck deep in demons by now.”

“The spirits are understandably cautious of approaching corporeal people. So many believe lies about us.”

I paused to look at Shay. “People haven’t treated you kindly, have they?” I didn’t really need to make it a question. Shay had hidden depths I’d only barely glimpsed, much less touched, the seductive sex fiend was a mask. And I had a feeling it was one of many.

Shay didn’t say anything for a moment. “No, Kitten. They haven’t. Few corporeal people regard spirits, especially my kind, as anything but tools. Means to an end.”

I walked over to where they lay on their belly with their chin braced in their hands. I squatted down so I could meet their gaze. “I’m not trying to use you. For what it’s worth. I don’t want anything from you that you don’t want to give. Any time we spend together is just for us, for pleasure.”

“Strange creature. You’re in a room with one of the most powerful choice spirits to ever exist, and you ask for nothing?”

I smiled slightly and dropped a kiss on their nose. “I know what it feels like to be used. If you ever feel like that about anything I do, kick me.”

They tilted their head, a quizzical expression on their face. “Who are you, Rook? Why can’t I figure you out?”

I stood and snorted then started cleaning up glasses and bottles. “I’m simple. Action, like a fight. A nice drunk and a good fuck is all I need out of life.”

“Hmm.”

“Thanks for last night.”

Shay still watched me like I was a puzzle they couldn’t solve. “You’re very welcome, and thank you.”

“Will you be at dinner?”

They rolled to their back and watched me upside down, their hair falling in a golden swath to pool on the floor. “Maybe. If I find time to talk to your sister today.”

“She’s up and around more. If you ask for her she can probably manage.”

Shay shrugged languidly. “I might just stay abed all day with a book.”

“Lucky.”

They smiled at me and I waved as I left.

I leaned against a wall in the Dellamorte mansion. I’d tucked my hands into my pockets so I wouldn’t be tempted to lift anything. In a room to the side, Lucanis was playing host to three other Crows. Teia, Viago, and an elven female who looked like a perfect mix of her parents. She had tattoos everywhere. I’d wanted to wait out here instead of having to deal with the social formalities.

Steps on the stairs drew my attention. Illario paused when he saw me, and came to mimic my position beside me against the wall. Though lean and graceful like many Crows, he still towered over me. He leaned a bit toward me and stage whispered, “They haven’t summoned the children in yet? Perfect choice of eavesdropping spots. It’s one of my favourites.”

I snorted. “Why would you need to eavesdrop?”

“Information, of course.” His voice had a silkiness to it that made me shiver.

“I’d think they’d have you front and centre with being Lucanis’s brother and all.”

“Technically first cousins. But no, Caterina favoured Lucanis and was not ever shy about showing it.”

“Oh, fun. Another fucked up family.”

Illario chuckled, leaning into me he softly said, “Are there any that are not?”

“Mine wasn't too bad. We had good childhoods.”

“So the attitude and scars came later?”

I chuckled. “You’ve seen very little of my scars or my attitude.”

“And if I wanted to?”

I gave him an assessing glance. “As long as you’re serious and won’t try to mock me, it might happen. Mock me and I’ll kill you.”

He smirked confidently. “You mean, you’ll try to kill me.”

I just shrugged. The bigger the ego the easier it was to take them down. Few people expected a petite elven female to have my bloodthirsty nature or my battle rage.

“You seem to have very little to do.”

He shrugged. “I am not on contract and alas, no gorgeous person is currently warming my bed.”

“Just warming it?”

He smirked again, I should probably not like that as much as I did. But there was an irreverence about Illario that I enjoyed.

“Tied to it might be more accurate. Up against a wall, dangling from my ceiling. I’m flexible.”

I snorted. “I bet you are.”

His gaze flicked up at the room full of people and he said, “You are about to be summoned, Rook is it?”

“Rook works.”

“If you are curious, you do know where to find me.” He bowed flamboyantly and disappeared into the ridiculously huge mansion a few moments before Lucanis came to the door.

“Might you consent to come inside to meet Amaranta?”

“Is the boring social shit accomplished?”

Lucanis’s eyes widened slightly, and he laughed. “You do not make any bones about it, do you?”

I pushed off the wall and walked slowly over to him. We were close to the same height. “Nope. What you see is what you get with me. And I have no patience with social formalities.”

He sighed. “You do grow used to them.” He hesitated. “Did Illario seem like he was okay? Dealing with our loss?”

“He seemed relaxed enough. Flirty isn’t he?”

“Always has been. I have always been the less socially accomplished of the two of us.”

“Different tools and methods for the same goal, perhaps.”

“True enough.”

Lucanis led me inside and made the introductions.

Amaranta and I weighed each other up. She sat like a perfect Antivan lady, but wore snug leathers like most of the other Crows I’d met. She had strong shoulders and arms indicating experience with heavier weapons. Like most Crows, she didn’t wear much in the way of jewellery. Her biggest sartorial expense was probably her hair. Long, curly as Teia’s and a silky black like Viago’s, she obviously spent a lot of time and money on it. She had blue and purple streaks magicked into it. Her eyes were an assessing dark blue like her father’s.

I didn’t bother to quizz her or ask for a demonstration. If she was the daughter of two Talons, she very obviously would know how to fight. It was really only a question of if we could work together.

“Why the tattoos?”

Her smile was far too attractive. What was with Crows and their general level of ‘pretty’? Then again, most venomous snakes and toxic plants were pretty, too.

Her accent was heavier than Lucanis’. “It is something of a secret, but you will need to know. I am what the el’vhen used to call a dreamer. A somni’ar’i. The tattoos remind me of who and where I am when I wake up.”

Facts lined up. “So that’s why you could specialize in heavier weapons. You can kill in dreams.”

She smirked with that entirely too attractive mouth. “Lucanis was right about you, I see.”

I just shrugged. “Think you want to give us a shot?”

“I do. I have my things with me, we can leave when you are ready.”

“Good enough. I’ll wait outside.” I bobbed a small bow to both Teia and Viago.

I had no compunction about listening in to Teia, Viago, and Amaranta talking at the door.

Viago pointed at Amaranta’s nose. Concerned dad written over every inch of him. “Do not die, or I will kill you.” I didn’t know him well, but I could tell he wasn’t nonchalant about letting his chick leave the nest.

“Papà. I am twenty-seven. All grown up now.”

“Mierda. You are a literal infant. No. Dying.”

Amaranta rolled her eyes. “Yes, Papà. No dying or you will kill me.”

“And don’t forget your daily dosages.”

“Poison myself daily and do not die or you will kill me. Got it.”

Teia smiled, even though worry filled her beautiful eyes. “Make some friends, see more of the world, sow your wild oats. Maybe get to know Lucanis away from Illario to see if it’d work.”

“I would still prefer Illario, Mamá. We have been best friends since childhood.”

“Nothing is settled. Your happiness is the most important thing to both your father and I.”

“It was not Illario. I would lay every cent I have earned on it.”

“I hope you are right, mir’da’len. (My little one.) It would kill something in Lucanis if it was. We will find out.”

Lucanis had gone in search of Illario. But Teia wasn’t wrong. I didn’t have a huge family, though it was large for a Dalish one. And it had killed something in me to be betrayed by one of my kin by blood. I hoped for Lucanis’s sake that Illario wasn’t dirty. But someone well placed in a Crow house, either Dellamorte or one close to them absolutely had betrayed him. They’d found Caterina’s records and sent them to Lucanis, who had shared them with me. From the moment Lucanis had disappeared, she’d never stopped looking for him.

By the blood stains on the pages of the journal, she hadn’t always been gentle in finding information, either.

Chapter Text

SOLAS

I’d set up another desk in my study for Sule’din and Lahn to share until we could get the new accommodations finished. Sule’din sat there working through a stack of correspondence she'd been too ill to deal with. Lahn had gone to the temple to check in and rotate Sentinels so they all got chances to rest.

My gaze kept straying to her, and I couldn’t keep my thoughts straight or focused on the project I was working on. I sensed Im'sh'a'el approaching. “Sule’din, Im'sh'a'el is likely coming to report in if you would like to avoid them.”

She lifted her head and put down her quill. “Oh, no. There’s something I’ve been meaning to talk with them about, anyway.”

“I'm curious.”

“You weren’t with us on that trip to Emprise du Lion, but we fought, and Im'sh'a'el made it seem as if I’d killed them.”

“Smaller and smaller forms? Demonic perhaps?”

She snorted. “Yes, the jerk. They use it often?”

“Not often, they do not need to. They are an e’v’an’u’ris and as powerful as most. Usually only when they want to disguise an exit.”

“Mmm.”

“Are you aware of where Rook spent the night?”

Sule’din buried her face in her hands. “Usually wherever pleases them. It’s not really my business. But let me guess, with Im'sh'a'el?”

I raised my brows and tilted my head in acknowledgement.

Sule’din breathed a small series of curses under her breath. “It probably wouldn’t have changed anything, if they’d known. But I wish I’d had time to let them know who Im'sh'a'el really is.”

“A completely dazzling, utterly murderous, often selfish choice spirit? They already know, dear sister.” Shay strolled in wearing an Ar’lath’an style gown and their original form. They’d loosely braided their gold curls, but hadn’t bothered to disguise their horns and eyes.

“Dear sister. Humping halla horns.”

I chuckled. “Shay is my sibling, love.”

Shay went over to stand in front of her desk. They curtsied prettily at Sule’din. “Bel’lan’a’ris Ghil’a’n’a, sincere apologies for using my tricks to make you believe an untruth. And appreciation for your help in aiding me to leave an increasingly unpleasant situation.”

Sule’din sat silently for a moment. “Apology accepted. You weren’t an easy fight."

"I wanted you to feel like you were doing well." Shay winked at Sule’din.

"How did you get mixed up with Corypheus, anyway?”

Shay sauntered over to a chaise I’d brought in, in case Sule’din needed to nap, and sprawled across it. “He paid well. And I was bored.”

She snorted. “His dragon almost ate me, you know."

"Terrible idea, really. You'd have given it simply wretched indigestion when you blew it skyward for daring." 

I could tell Shay amused Sule’din by the repressed smile she wore. That was honestly a relief. Shay... well, you either tended to love them or hate them.

Sule’din smiled fully. "Do tell us if you’re getting bored or need a raise.”

Shay craned their neck in one of the odd positions they used when trying to freak someone out.

I chuckled. “You can try, but now that she has knowledge of your tricks, it probably will not work.”

Shay dramatically rolled their eyes and threw an arm over their face. “All my talent and skills wasted!”

Sule’din grinned and it made my heart race.

Like they always had, Shay’s mood shifted quickly and they sat up. “Rook is off to Treviso, hoping to bring back a front line fighter. Lucanis knew of someone. Amaranta, daughter of Cantori and de Riva.”

I made a note and said, “I am surprised that her parents allow it. Is she not their only heir?”

“Last my spies knew, the only adult. There are three teen children in the family as well, but they’re not in the public eye.”

“More likely being tortured daily.”

“The world is harsh.” Shay shrugged.

“Any suggestions on help we can offer without it being obvious? I do not wish to deal with Rook.”

“Blesséd throbbing intestines. Not you, too? What have you two done to each other to create such antipathy?”

Sule’din snorted. “Creative cuss, there. You prefer Shay?”

Shay smiled toothily at Sule’din. “Indeed.”

I chuckled. “Do feel free to keep trying, but you are not likely to faze her.”

Shay pouted. “Well?”

“Well wha—oh.” I made a face. “Rook and I have rubbed one another the wrong way since we met. Which… was the night of the ritual.”

“One of their loves was murdered for blood magic. ‘Tis likely why they hate you. At least, the start of it.”

“For Fade’s sake. All blood magic is not evil. It is just another discipline.”

“Rook wouldn’t be very rational about the subject. If they'd had to watch that. They’re not the most introspective person you’ve likely ever met.” Sule’din sighed and played with the vanes on her quill. “Our clan tried to help, but Rook has spent less and less time with us over the years.”

Shay braced their cheek on their palm and arranged themselves like a piece of rather deadly artwork on the chaise. “Have you, perhaps, considered rubbing each other the right way?”

Sule’din busted out laughing. “Tattered sails. There’s an idea.” Still giggling, she looked at me and said, “I’m staying out of it. But Dalish often bond with the same people, and frequently siblings marry within the same polycule, so do feel free.”

I grumbled. “I think bedding a mountain cat might be more enjoyable.”

Sule’din snort-laughed and clapped a hand over her face. “They’d take that as a compliment.”

“Trust me, I am not attempting to compliment your sib.”

Shay got a slightly dreamy expression on their face. “I won’t share anything personal, but they did earn themselves the nickname Kitten. Your sib is a strange creature, sister.”

She shrugged. “They’ve always walked their own path.”

“Mmm. People rarely confuse me any longer. But Rook confuses me. ‘Tis rather delightful, if I’m honest. Oh! But yes. If I could access the el’u’vi’an map, I can slowly feed locations to Rook and crew. Or perhaps we make a map of el’u’vi’ans you wouldn’t mind us using. We’ll likely need one to the Anderfels, last I’d heard the Wardens were holed up in Weisshaupt. I don’t trust Elgar’nan, Ghil’an’na’in, and An’d'r'u'i'l to not use The Darkness against the whole world. So we’ll likely need fast transport to most of Thedas at some point. They’ll unearth their dragons before long if they haven’t yet. That would’ve been a priority.”

“Do you know where An’a’ris, the Formless, Da'e'r'n'thal, G'el'da'u'r'an, Gaxkang, and Xebenkeck are? Have any others returned from exile? I would prefer we reach out to them first.”

“Gaxkang is likely travelling back from the void, they lost a battle against the Hero of Fereldan some time ago in Denerim. He would've needed to heal. Xebenkeck and her pets were in the underworld of Kirkwall, last I knew. But getting them to help may be impossible. She's worse than me for enjoying pleasure above anything else. The Formless is in Nevarra. In love, if you can believe it. They’re using the name Vorgoth. Da'e'r'n'thal returned before I did the first time and I haven’t heard from or about him since. G'el'da'u'r'an is likely still in the void. He never showed much interest in returning until he'd reached the point of his vowed requirements. And it would take a miracle to get An’a’ris on our side. You’d really think he’d blame the author of the problems rather than Lahn and the rest of us, wouldn’t you?”

“He has always fooled himself into believing M'y'th'al actually has the ability to love.”

Sule’din shuddered. “She absolutely does not.”

“The shards are working?” Shay asked it quietly.

Sule’din nodded, face washed out. “The treatments work. And swimming in that… her memories is absolutely wretched.”

“It’s dark in the void, but honestly, it wasn’t all bad because it got me away from her.”

I frowned.

Shay sighed dramatically. “Stop. Every single thing that awful witch does isn’t your fault, Solas. I’d tell you none of it is, but you’d argue with me and I’m in a rather pleasant mood.”

“My life is truly surreal. I’m sitting in a room with people mine have worshipped as gods for millenia.”

Shay chuckled wickedly, with a bloodthirsty edge. “Oh, they weren’t worshipping me, precious. My name and portfolio were wiped away in ancient Ar’lath’an times. When my so loving sister banished me.”

“Elgar’nan tried to erase the Healer, too.”

“Funny how we refuse to stay erased, is it not?”

Sule’din smiled slightly and repeated words I’d told her a long time ago. “The first of your people do not die easily.”

Shay lifted an eyebrow and nodded slightly. “Sadly true. We shall have to deal with M'y'th'al if all Fel’as'san has said is true.”

“I am certain it is. Even if I did not trust Fel’as'san, which I do, it would be very like M'y'th'al to mow the world down seeking vengeance.”

“Map still in the alcove?”

“It is. Paper and ink is on the shelves.”

“I’ll busy myself in there making a map for Rook and crew.” Their voice dropped into a teasing tone. “Unless you’d like to make it a courting gift?”

“I believe a badger might be more likely to be open to courtship than Rook.”

Sule’din snorted but lifted their eyebrows in agreement.

Shay got up, gathered materials and pulled books out in a certain order to open the hidden alcove in my study before disappearing into it.

Sule’din perked up in curiosity.

“You can go look around, Vhen’an. I have no secrets from you, intentionally, in any case. I simply keep more valuable items hidden there. My study is usually locked, but it can be opened with a puzzle. I designed it that way in case anyone needed access when I was not around. An extra layer of security seemed wise.”

She smiled happily at me and my heart raced like a bird in flight.

I watched her closely as she pushed herself to her feet with the aid of her cane. She tapped her way into the triple sized, four floored room where I stored my more valuable items. There were another pair of vaults below the el’u’vi’an bridge, hidden by permanent mist spells that took up a great deal more space. I would need to remember to show it to Sule’din soon.

Just as Lahn and I needed to get some more shards for her soon.

Chapter Text

Solas

I waved a hand to close the swirling rainbow portal behind me and took a few steps into my study before noticing I still had a visitor.

Sule’din had obviously finished exploring. Shay must have closed the alcove before leaving. The cane Lahn had carved for Sule'din leaned against the side of my desk. She’d sat down in my worn leather seat, curled up and fallen asleep. My heart ached and my gaze traced everything about her. I would do absolutely anything for her. Bare my soul, murder thousands, anything. But how did one truly love?

Between my efforts to help the Elves adjust and getting them settled in new homes, and all the other things I had on my plate, the conversation Lahn and I had had not long after the ritual meandered through my head on repeat. Distracting me and making me frown more than usual. My agents helping resettle the Elves in new homesteads around the isolated El'vhen ruins of several of Dir'th’am’en’s temples had noticed, but I’d waived it off as worry over someone ill.

Which wasn’t the whole truth, but enough of it.

How do you love someone? It’s not just feeling the emotion, I’d always known that. Much as we’d cared about one another, Lahn and I had had to hide our relationship. Either his twin, An’a’ris, or Mother would’ve sent him far away if they’d ever found out about us. M'y'th'al had never desired or used me sexually, but she didn’t want anyone else to touch me either. Not unless she ordered it. She’d always been possesive of me. I'd been hers. In every way.

She’d collared me with manipulation and coerced me to take on a vessel I’d never wanted as a body. She’d built the vessel herself. And made it look a lot like her least favourite brother. In one of the many games she’d played. Unless another First Born or powerful mage were there to guide the body into a new shape, and set it there, we’d always revert any constructed body to look like that first one. If we switched or made a new one, for whatever reason, that’s what occurred. We could expend the magic to shift, of course, but few of us had the level of ease with it that Shay had.

Mother had favoured me when her brother was close. Rejected me when not. She’d chosen my clothing, who I was expected to sleep with to get more information for her games, everything I did… was an order from her. And if I didn’t comply… well, there was a reason I could hide pain so well.

Putting up the veil had destroyed my body. Most mortal wounds could be healed in uth’en’e'r'a. But not when you’re a crisped facsimile of a skeleton. Which is all putting the veil up—or taking it down would have—left of me. And my twisted, tortured spirit-self had slept for eons, until Fel’as'san’s death cry had echoed through the Fade.

M'y'th'al … I hated that even with everything she’d done, my heart still ached for her. At our first meeting… she’d been a sad and lonely being in need of a friend. One who had prayed for wisdom. I’d answered. And over time, grew to love her as a trusted companion of the spirit. I’d been her confidant and offered my gathered wisdom to her freely from the World of Dreams.

She’d wheedled Elgar’nan to convince the sun to stop burning her parents and out of curiousity, perhaps, they’d bonded. Neither had been truly capable of love. Earth and Sky, one a product of the tears of Titans and Great Dragons, sparked by Alas. One a sun-born being from Elgara kissing Alas. M'y'th'al had, against my advice, shared how a spirit could create for itself a body out of the tears or blood of the elder children. Elgar’nan had immediately started making more El’vhen. From his very first moment of awareness, he’d had a lust for worship that should’ve been a warning sign. But M'y'th'al had rationalized, against my wisdom, that the seas of tears the Titans and Great Dragons had wept under the blistering sun were endless, depthless, and for a time, they were.

She’d eventually given in to the desire to create more El’vhen. She’d experimented upon and made me first. By the laws and ways of ancient Ar’lath’an, I was M'y'th'al’s first child. A spirit who’d taken on a lyrium body and become bound to it. In other words, an e’v’an’u’ris. Except she hadn’t bound just me into that form. She’d wanted an advisor, so she’d bound two others with me. A spirit of knowledge who eventually became Dir'th’am’en. And a spirit of guidance who became Falon’din.

For a very long time, coherence hadn’t been a part of my world. By the time I’d been well, the precursor to vallas’lin, controlling blood magic, had been tattooed into the new form. Branding me, us, as hers. And giving her all the control she’d ever need over me. The first version of it and the later vallas’lin had been one of the more horrific of the inventions of the e’v’an’u’ris.

Over time, our three spirits had melded more and more, until we were as now. A triune spirit, a three faced mage of legend. We were the same being now. How we’d survived the utter torture of melding together… they were memories I’d always been glad I didn’t have.

I had been a being devoted to learning and wisdom. One who had come to the call of a trusted companion. She’d used so many of her tricks to get me to join with the body. I hadn’t wanted to come. But she’d eventually manipulated me into leaving my beloved Fade to help a friend. Only to be immediately betrayed by her.

I'd clung to the fact that she hadn’t always been so manipulative. She had been that lonely young spirit, body-bound for the first time. At one time, she had been my friend. If not completely good, she had not been monstrous. I had always searched for that friend in her. Occasionally, a glimmer of who she’d been showed itself. Only tying me to her more.

Over the centuries, then the millenia, M'y'th'al had fallen more and more into the corruption many of the e’v’an’u’ris had embraced. She had been a master of deception. She’d always been heavily dependent on my skills. And in general, treated me as a beloved pet. Even though, in the ways of the e’v’an’u’ris, she was my mother.

Whenever we’d been in a public situation, she’d treated me, and expected me to act as, a Prince of Ar’lath’an and El’vhen’an. Often forcing me to be more Falon’din, or more Dir'th’am'en. Even though I’d tried to explain that we’d melded. I’d become skilled at the arts of trickery to fool her and everyone else.

And I’d still and always kept hoping for the return of my friend.

Lahn and I had met when we could, and I’d thought that the sweeping emotions and physical desire I'd felt for no one else was love. The desire and emotions had been there for us both. Yet, I understood now that those were only pieces of love.

We’d both been aware of the power inequality of an enslaved el’vhen bound with vallas’lin and one of El’vhen’an’s star Generals and favoured son of M'y'th'al. She had always asked that even her siblings and children accept her vallas’lin. At first, she’d claimed it was for our protection. Then it was her protection. Then it became a demand. Slowly, over the course of millenia, she’d broken me so badly that I truly had to accept that I did not know how to love.

“I love the way your brow wrinkles when you’re lost in thought.”

Sule’din’s sleepy words jerked me back to the present. Love could be a skill I could learn? Perhaps?

“Vhe—Sule’din. It is good to see you still up and around."

She smiled with a hint of her old mischievousness. “And with my butt planted in your chair. I can’t bear to be still or in that room any longer. I’m weak. But as long as I pace myself, I’m usually okay. I just fell asleep waiting for you.”

“Oh. Did you need me for something?”

“I just wanted to see you. And hear your voice.”

She looked chilled and I summoned a blanket and cup of tea for her. She sipped the drink, then said, “For someone who hates tea, you make mine perfectly. Thank you.”

“I am aware that you enjoy it a great deal. So I studied how you make it.”

Her gaze grew soft. “That’s a very loving thing to do, Solas. I appreciate it very much. Wher…” She shook her head and buried her face behind her cup.

“Please. Share your thoughts?”

“I was just wondering where you’d been. I recognized the fixtures for one of those odd portals I’ve seen in the Well. Or at least, I think I recognized them. I could be wrong.”

I tendered a small smile. We were so awkward with each other. We needed to talk about the bond. But neither of us had been brave enough to bring it up more than in passing. It was like feeling my way through the dark with no sense of direction. I’d never expected to need to find a new path to walk after the ritual. At best, I’d expected my spirit self to sleep for another several millenia.

“I had gone to the El’vhen ruins you found me at, so long ago. Dorian and I have been working for some time with the Shadow Dragons to get enslaved Elves out of Minrathous and Virantium. Bull and the Chargers I employ to restrict the flesh trade as much as they can. Many of my agents are assigned there to help settle newly freed Elves into new homes. It is a hive of busyness to warm the soul. When you are well enough, you are welcome to come with me to see. There is another operation like it in Orlais, Fereldan, and one near the Anderfels. Most of the ‘masters’ have been quite eager to allow their newly magic holding Elves to run. Some fight, and those we help escape.”

“If you’re not careful, you’ll ruin your reputation as a bastard of an incredibly powerful mage.”

She wrinkled her nose at me and my heart almost stopped. I hadn’t seen that playful expression on her face since I’d broken her heart.

I felt like a fool, something I deeply detested, but I needed her to know. More importantly, I needed to say it to her. I folded my arms behind my back. “You are correct. I have somehow never learned how to love. I understand pieces of it. Attraction, physical passion, the way my heart almost seizes when you smile at me. Longing for something, someone I cannot be with. I do not know how to do the rest. I will learn, if… if you want me to.”

If you want me. Words I couldn’t make myself say. I had never been comfortable with being vulnerable. M'y'th'al had always used any hint of vulnerability as a weapon against me.

“It will take time for the three of us to do the work any polycule needs to do. But…” She dropped her gaze with a blush. Her lyrium tear scars gleamed brighter. “I am grateful the two of you saved my life. And…. And I’m not minded to try to break the bonds. If… if you want to try. You should know that I want to try, too.” She rotated her almost empty tea mug in her hands, betraying her nervousness.

I went to her and knelt, looking up at her captivating eyes. “M'y'th'al shattered and twisted me long before you were born. Her cruelty and manipulative nature scarred me. I am… very broken, Vhen’an. You need to know this. I shall find my path. But it will take time. I would like to walk my new path beside you and Lahn. I never thought I would have this chance to live, without the weight of my duty, to be able to help others… Now that I have an after… and you are both here... I want what I told you when I came to say goodbye.”

I shook my head. “Ir tel'him. (I am not transformed.) Except… I do not know who I am without the driving force of my goal. Ir sa tel'nal. (I am empty, full of nothing.) Bereft of all emotion save one I have been unfamiliar with for far too long, but… it may be hope. And my love for both of you, incomplete as I know it to be. I desire to do as you have asked and learn to love true.” I dropped my gaze. “I will learn. I will heal. It may take a great deal of time. I cannot know for certain how long. And yes, ma Vhen’an bel’lan’a’ris, I want to try with you both.” (My forever love.)

“Solas.” The way she said my name had always made chills run down my spine and warmth spread through my chest. She lifted her hand and hovered it near my face. I pressed close to her and she cupped my cheek, encouraging me to look up at her. The feel of her hand on me made me want to lay my head in her lap and never move.

“All I’ve ever truly needed is for you to not shut me out, and to try. I don’t expect perfection. I expect that the three of us will work hard, that we’ll fuck up and hurt each other, that we’ll make up, fix what broke, and keep loving. We have a precious chance to do and have something none of us ever thought we could have. I’m hopeful, and terrified, and shy to be vulnerable with you because of our past, but I’m very willing to work together for a shared goal.”

I’d risked being vulnerable with her. And she had not used or rejected or manipulated me. I didn’t know how to experience these emotions.

I lifted a hand and hovered it over her cheek, asking permission. She lifted hers and pressed mine to her face. Then winced.

I drew back. “Are you hurting?”

She pulled my hand back and nestled her cheek into it. “No, the lyrium bonded to me, it’s not… painful so much as incredibly sensitive. I’m not used to it. I will be eventually since even hard scrubbing won’t take them off.”

I carefully avoided her lyrium scars and met her gaze. “I am sorry. For everything I did to you. For not telling you everything in Crestwood like I had planned to. For telling you so many things that I see now were pernicious. For hiding from you. For walking away from you. Had I the choice, I would do all differently now.”

“Solas.” Tears washed over her eyes. “I forgive you.” She sniffed and I summoned a handkerchief for her. She blotted her tears away. “I never expected you to apologize for any of it. That too, is a loving act. Love is how we act and what we do as much as the feeling in our hearts and any physical passion we may experience. My mamae always said love is action. Ma Vhen’an. I think we’ll find our way.”

She tilted her head. “May I kiss you? It’s absolutely okay to say no. I… saw a lot in the memories. Nothing intensely personal, but... enough." She swallowed. "Reclaiming your bodily autonomy, who you share yourself with and when… I’ll ask permission because… to my knowledge, no one ever has.”

“Only Lahn. Yes. Please kiss me. I need to feel you. I have needed to feel you each lonely day of the last ten years.“ I didn’t bother to try to control the rawness in my voice.

She lowered her head, slanted it slightly and gently brought our mouths together. My entire body shuddered at the contact. Her lips were just as soft as I remembered. My heart beat like a racing rabbit. The warmth and silk of her lips against mine made me ache for more. I moaned softly when she pressed closer. She pulled back enough to whisper against my mouth, “I’ve dreamed of kissing you again so many times. I’m half convinced I’m dreaming.”

“Shall I pinch you to prove we are fully awake?”

She pressed small, soft kisses to my lips and rested her arm across my shoulder, tangling her fingers in my hair with a soft sound of approval. “Where would you pinch me?”

I smiled against her mouth. “Your luscious ass.”

“Solas! You are such an ass lover.” Her blush was so charming. “Don’t think I didn’t feel your gaze straying more than once.”

“I certainly would not deny a very deep desire to fill my hands with your ass cheeks again, ma Vhen’an.”

“I… I want that, too. The way you pull me close to you, your hands on my ass, your passion a demand I rise to every time. I long for that again. When we’re both ready.”

She slid her hand farther into my hair. “It’s so silky.” She smiled puckishly. “It’s such a beautiful colour. I’m not sure if I’ll ever get over feeling slightly robbed that you kept it from growing at Skyhold. Though you’re beautiful with and without your hair.”

“May I touch you?”

She pulled back to meet my gaze with serious eyes. “If we’ve all chosen to work for a permanent relationship, I want you to know you can touch me any time.” She looked down. “I’d simply ask for patience. My arm… it often hurts, where it should be. Keeping a magical hand in place can exhaust me. I… can get snappish with the pain, of that and a few other scars. The deeper ones. I don’t want you to feel like it’s you. I desire your touch, deeply. By the green, I crave it. Yes, please touch me.”

Perhaps learning to love, with her and Lahn, wouldn’t be so difficult.

She pressed her lips harder against mine. I slid my hands onto her thighs in encouragement. When her tongue flickered lightly against my lips, I shuddered and opened to her. She slid into me, sharing her flavour of ancient magic, sweet rain, dark honey, and a faint hint of forest with me. Even the flavour of her milky tea tasted like the most glorious day in the Fade. Her musk made me want. Deeply. Utterly. And I’d never wanted anyone in the exact same way as I wanted her. I absolutely ached for the feel of her skin against mine. Dreamed of pressing her close to me.

She slowly drew back and rested her forehead to mine. We both still had our eyes closed.

“We’ll find our way, Vhen’an.” She kissed my solitary tear away. “It may be hard sometimes, but I believe we’ll find our way.”

“Shall we still dream together tonight, ma Vhen’an?”

“Yes. I’ll be thrilled to.”

Chapter Text

SOLAS

I walked up the new set of stairs to the bare space at the very top of the Lighthouse that would be a new suite of rooms for the three of us. My heart raced at even the idea of living together with both of the people I loved. It still felt as though I were dreaming. Perhaps I’d died in the ritual as required and my spirit really did lay asleep, completely drained, in the Fade.

The ceiling had been crafted of multicoloured glass that spread like pie pieces under the huge crystal on top. Windows made up about half the walls, the others were bare plaster, awaiting my brush. Of course, we could’ve done it all with magic, but like Lahn, I enjoyed working with my hands for some things.

I crested the stairs and swallowed. Lahn stood shirtless, carving trailing vines and flowers into the mouldings. I hadn’t quite expected him back from the temple before evening. The sharp, resinous scent of the wood filled the air and he hummed softly as he worked. My gaze took in the once familiar musculature of his back, hips, and waist. The hard bulges in his arms as he used whichever carving tool he currently held. He’d tied his pale hair up in a bun.

His voice held deep amusement when he said, “Still like what you see?”

“I…” My face heated. I had no idea how to do this. In the past, we’d carefully had to plan out our meetings and had needed to pretend to be uncaring with one another where there was even a chance of anyone seeing. I moved to one of the walls where my painting supplies were arranged. “Of course, I do,” I said softly as I stripped out of my tunic. I preferred to keep paint off most of my clothing. I’d worn the leggings I liked to paint in, but that was one of Sule’din’s favourite tunics on me.

I started mixing the paints and plaster. “I honestly have no idea how to do any of this, you know.”

It was just the two of us in the hushed, soft silence of the huge loft.

Lahn’s low chuckle came from behind me. “You’ve forgotten how to paint?”

I snorted softly. “Not painting.”

“Been a while, then?”

My mouth lifted at the corners. “If you are actually curious, my last time making love with anyone else is since the last time with you.”

The sound of woodworking paused and I could feel his gaze on my back. I tried to focus on my task but froze like prey when he came to lean his shoulder against a wall close to the one I’d be working on.

“Why deny yourself?”

I kept my gaze on my paints. “There was only one person I wanted. And you and I were understandably distant during the war of Rev'as El'vhen.” I lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “After the prison and veil went up, I slept. I do not remember if I dreamed. The accidental overflow of magic that created the veil took everything I had.”

He looked down and tapped a bare toe onto the unfinished stone floors. “I could’ve been more forgiving. I understood why… you’d done what you’d done, even before you recently confirmed it.”

I tilted my head. “I could have been less withdrawn as well. I allowed the rebellion to consume every waking moment. I should have apologized back then. I… allowed my hurt to rule me even though I knew we could all die any day.”

“The world is still as dangerous.”

I fumbled my stirring tool. “It is. There can be no denying that.”

Lahn reached out and gently grasped my wrist. He pulled me closer. “We are all on the same page in wanting to build a relationship?"

"I want that more than almost anything I have ever desired in my life."

Lahn's soft half smile and head tilt were so achingly familiar. "What’s stopping you? I’m sure you remember where everything goes.” His voice had dropped into a more sultry tone and I shivered, my nipples tightened around my rings and lust burned in my lower belly. I gently pulled my wrist free to tie my hair up and out of the way. I kept my gaze down.

“Hey. Don’t do that.”

I paused with a frown. “Put my hair up?”

Lahn laughed softly and stepped closer to me. A callused finger curled under my chin and lifted my face. “Hide your gaze. You always used to do that when you didn’t want someone to see what you were feeling. Look at me?”

I swallowed and looked into his eyes. If he hadn’t been holding my chin, I’d have shaken my head.

“What’s going on in that labyrinthine mind of yours? This will never work for any of us unless we’re honest and communicate with each other.”

His golden eyes entranced me as thoroughly as they ever had. He stepped closer and rested a gentle hand on my shoulder. Showing he’d never lost the ability to decipher my movements seconds before I made them. I’d been about to step back.

“Solas. It’s just us here. I know how much you hate being vulnerable. I won’t ever force you to reveal more than you’re ready to. And I would like to know what you’re thinking and feeling in this moment. If you think you can share it without harm to yourself.”

My body trembled slightly, completely uncontrollably. Warring between running and staying.

Lahn smiled a little sadly and lifted his palm from my shoulder. “When you’re ready.”

My hand had pressed his back into place before I’d made any kind of concious decision. I needed his touch. “I do not deserve a chance to repair things with either of you. I have done so many horrible things. To others. To you. To Sule’din.”

Lahn gently squeezed my shoulder. “Who else could deserve forgiveness more?”

My brows shot up. “You can say that, even having seen with your own eyes what I became?”

Moving slowly so I could dodge it if I needed to, he lifted his other hand and gently traced the lineaments of my face. “Mother never gave you a chance to be yourself. Allowing your other selves ascendancy wasn’t the best choice you ever could’ve made. But it doesn’t mean you don’t deserve forgiveness. Acceptance. Love, desire, warmth. Saving the world once and helping save it twice wash a lot of things clean.”

My mouth turned down in a frown. “I cannot be absolved of their actions. I was the one who ran into the darkness of ourselves. I was a coward.”

“Don’t you think you may have had reason for that? You were a newly escaped, previously enslaved person still blaming yourself for things beyond your control. Do you still blame yourself for leaving M'y'th'al?”

My brows pulled together in a frown.

He chuckled. “It really does drive you to distraction, doesn’t it?”

“To be seen so clearly. I have spent much of my existence doing everything I could to prevent that.”

“I think you’re safe from anyone else understanding you or reading you that deeply. Being vulnerable with us… it won’t weaken you to the rest of the world.”

“How can you be so certain?”

“Aside from my own experiences? Rook hates you. If they could actually see into you like Sule and I can, they wouldn’t.”

I rolled my eyes. “I believe Rook hates a great many things. There is no guarantee they would suddenly like me if they could.”

“You give yourself too little credit, Vhen’an. Rook is more complicated than most. Their experiences have hardened them. Yet they still enjoy softness, and connection, friends, family. They wouldn’t hate you, especially because Sule’din and I both love you, if they could see through your masks.”

I cast him a doubting look.

“You don’t have to believe me. But watch them discreetly, sometimes. You’ll see what I mean.”

“I see what this is. You feel a need to torture me, suggesting I watch Rook.” My levity made him smile.

“Torturing you is definitely not on the top of my list of things I want to do to you.”

I swallowed and stepped closer, letting him hold my gaze. Even though every instinct screamed at me to look away. I caught my shaking breath on a slight gasp. “What are the three things on the top of your list?”

He chuckled low in his chest. “Foolish Wolf. One.” He stepped close enough to brace our foreheads together. We stood that way for several moments in adra'ina'la'vhen. (Honour life and spirit essence.) Honouring one another’s breath, spirit, and life. He slid deliciously calloused hands over my bare shoulders, his thumbs tracing the leather cords of my jawbone necklace. “Two. You have done so much for others. Your entire existence. You deserve to have something you want for yourself. For no reason other than that you want it. You deserve forgiveness. I forgive you, Solas. I’m sorry I hurt you.”

My eyelids burned. “I forgave you even before I put up the prison and the veil. I would have continued to descend into a pit of my own making without you and Fel. I would have never led the rebellion. I was not me… that way. Not the way I am with all three of us awake.”

Lahn smiled softly. “That’s something we both needed to come to the point of saying.” He stepped close enough that our chests brushed together.

My heart raced and my breath caught. “Three?”

Lahn’s slow, sensual grin spread across his face. “Are you sure you’re ready for that?”

I gulped a little. This had been easier with Sule’din that morning. I had a much longer and more fraught past with Lahn. I felt unique emotions for each of them, as was natural for different relationships, still love, yet flavoured differently. I tilted my head and whispered, “Yes.”

“Three,” he whispered. Then he brushed my lips gently with his. As soft as a rose petal. Each tender caress made me burn for him.

I slowly slid my hands down his bare sides to his hips, tugging him closer.

He pressed harder against my mouth and a groan slipped out of both of us. As careful with each other as new lovers, we moved hesitantly. He wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me closer, chest to chest, hip to hip, hard cocks pressing against each other.

I ran my hands up to bury them in his hair, taking the lead a little. I darted my tongue out to taste him and with a muffled moan he opened to me. I shivered and my lids burned again as we deepened our kiss. He somehow still tasted the same. The faint ozone flavour of magic, the sweet, rich flavour of high summer clover, and juicy, ripe cherries, his own unique musk intertwining through it all. I shuddered and whimpered at the need rising in me. The warmth and silk of his skin against me again made my knees weak.

He rested his other hand along the side of my throat. Keeping things slow, he kissed me nigh senseless and I returned the attention.

He reluctantly pulled back. Dropping kisses from the bridge of my nose to my mouth, he said between each, “You,” kiss, “are,” kiss, “just,“ kiss, “as addictive,” kiss, “as ever.” He slid his tongue back into me and I moaned, pressing closer.

We were both shaking as we made ourselves stop.

“Probably better to wait?” he murmured breathlessly against my mouth.

I kissed him deeply again. “Likely. But I do not want to stop.”

He buried his fingers in my hair and I gasped as he tugged it just the way I liked.

“I don’t want to stop either, but you deserve better than a quick fuck against the wall after so long.”

I shivered, needing. “We both do. The first time returning to each other.”

He pressed his forehead to mine again and we stood holding one another. Resisting the urge to start again.

“We have time, ma Fen.”

I nodded. Blood still pounding with desire. “You are just as delicious and wanted, mir’Atish as you have always been.” (My peace.)

“Don’t doubt that I’d have us against a wall if I didn’t worry it was too soon, ma Fen.”

I forced myself to step back, trailing my fingers over the muscles on his sides as I did so. I chuckled. “It is incredibly difficult to pull away from you. And I hope you know you have completely scrambled my brains. I had an idea in mind for this wall.”

He chuckled as he moved back to his carving work. “Not carving erotic shapes into the decorations in what will be the main living quarters won’t be easy either, Vhen’an.”

I snorted and went back to mixing my paints. “Lahn?”

“Mmm?”

“Ma serrana, mir’Atish.”

“Ar lath ma, ma Fen.”

Chapter Text

LAHN

I reclined in the gargantuan tub in Sule’din’s and my washroom, reliving the conversation and kiss with Solas earlier. I didn’t want to push him too hard or before he was ready. And, like his namesake, he could be as wary and hard to get close to as a wolf. It had taken a balancing act between us millenia ago, and still did. If for different reasons.

Reassured that I hadn’t pushed too hard, I got out and rinsed off. The water immediately drained away. I barely noticed as used to magic like the Lighthouse's as I’d always been. With a touch of magic, I dried and untangled my hair.

I walked into our room. Sule’din sat at the mirrored vanity dressed in a champagne silk nightgown. She had a slight frown on her face as she tended her hair.

I moved up behind her and massaged her shoulders. “What’s on your mind?”

She let her head fall back against my bare abdomen, above my towel wrapped hips and sighed. “I don’t know how to talk about the things we need to talk about.”

“Hold on. I can at least help with starting.”

I dressed in a loose pair of sleep pants, moved to the lounge area, tended the fire, and poured two glasses of wine. Then went to her, gently coaxed her to her feet and led her over. I sat down and pulled her to lay on her side between my legs. I handed her a goblet and said, “There. At least we’re comfortable.”

She sipped her wine and hummed in enjoyment. I sipped mine and played with the softness of her hair, leaving space for conversation.

“How do you always know what to do?”

I chuckled. “I don’t, Mir’ras, I’m just extremely appreciative of comfort and Solas has always had excellent taste in wines.” (My light.)

“Mmhmm. If you think I believe that, you’re dreaming. Except about the wine.”

“I assure you that I love comfort as much as the next el’vhen.”

We sat and drank a glass of wine quietly together. I refilled them, waiting patiently.

“I… so… ugh. Dalish practice multiple loves. The idea isn’t foreign or unwelcome to me. Given how we struggle with inbreeding, I’d assumed I’d probably have multiple mates. Very possibly with one or more of my siblings. Siblings often marry the same person given how much we struggle with it. But… well, I’ve never been in a relationship with any depth other than ours. Obviously, I'd had relationships, I was close to thirty when I became Inquisitor, but nothing lasting... complicated. To be completely honest, I wasn’t all that different from Rook in my youth, as far as sampling the board went.”

I just continued playing with her hair.

“Tattered sails. Sex. It’s about sex. How do we work that in this relationship we’re all trying to build?”

“Well. I’m certain you know where everything goes, soooo.”

She snorted a laugh then clapped her hand over her face. “You are such a brat.”

“Guilty.”

She played with one of my nipple rings. “Do we all sit down around a table and talk about it before it happens? I have a feeling that would make Solas run for the hills.”

I snorted softly. “He can be quite skittish. He'd earned the nickname Fen millennia before the other e’v’an’u’ris turned it into something else. He’s always been a little wild, wary. Preferring to watch for a while before making contact. As far as sex goes, in my time, and possibly this one too, usually it was up to each polycule to decide how to approach it. Some did a silent acknowledgement, some didn’t talk about it, some were open about everything.”

“I just don’t want to get caught up in the moment and end up in bed with Solas if you’re not okay with me being there yet. Should I tell you before anything happens? I don’t feel the need for you to. I know you love each other, too. If you make love together, I’ll be nothing but happy for you. But how do you feel? Would you rather it were a three of us together thing for the first time or...?”

Her cheeks had a delightful warmth to them.

“Given a few reasons, group sex between the three of us should probably wait until after we’ve all crossed that bridge together as couples. Solas and I will likely need to go slower than you might? Given your blushes, you’ve both continued flirting.”

“Yes. And… I’m still worried and wary, but I’m working through anything left over. Dying brought so many things into clarity for me. I don’t want to hold on to my anger at him. He apologized to me this morning, for everything. I never expected him to do that. Then we kissed.”

“He’s making good progress. We apologized to each other while we worked upstairs this afternoon after I returned and kissed each other.”

She relaxed. “I was a little worried I’d overstepped a line by encouraging that this morning. That’s a relief.”

“Sule. Whenever it happens for you two, I’m okay with it. Share yourself with him in whatever way you’re both ready for. You can let me know afterward if you’d like. But I assume we’re all going to get there eventually. I don’t want to put timers or controls on that. Unless you do?”

She shook her head, sipped her wine, then rested her cheek against my pec. “I don’t want to put limits around it, either. I just needed to know we were on the same page.”

I hugged her, snuggling close. “Intimacy like what we’ll all hopefully share with one another is a gift. When it happens, it happens. The only thing I’d like us to be careful about is making sure you and I don’t ignore our us. It can be a danger when introducing newer partners to established relationships.”

“I don’t want to lose us either, in the rush of new relationship emotions. I saw enough successful and unsuccessful polyamorous relationships growing up. I doubt it will be an issue honestly, you both hold different, unique places in my heart. But you’re right, it’s wise to be wary. You can tell me after, too. I just want us all to be happy. Together.”

“We can build our dream together, Mir’ras.”

“Sooo, should I remember to use my contraceptive rune with him?”

I chuckled. “No. Not unless either of you want to. Our children will be all of ours. Much like your clan, we’ll raise them together with any family we build. Whose seed starts the first isn’t an issue.”

She frowned but didn’t say anything more on the subject. “He’s invited me to dream with him tonight.”

I kissed the top of her head. “I’m happy for you both. Has the secretive furball told you anything of his plans?”

She smiled and shook her head. “No. He enjoys his secrets too much. And the anticipation has been delicious all day.”

“You know, I do believe the poor el’vhen is in trouble with you, Vhen’an.”

She looked up at me with a completely innocent expression. “Oh?”

“Oh?” I tickled her gently. “Yes, oh. I think you know him better than he expects.”

“Shhh. Let’s keep it a secret. I’m trying to catch a wiley predator, don’t you know.”

“That’s easy enough. Leave some frilly cakes and hot chocolate somewhere. He’s always had a rather beastly sweet tooth. Or alternately, I know another kind of bait you can use.”

Her eyes danced with amusement as she set our empty glasses aside and moved to straddle me. She slid her fingers into my hair and kissed me slowly and luxuriantly. Between gentle nips to my lips she murmured, “What’s the best kind of bait to use for my two wild el’vhen? Hmm?”

I slid my hands down over her smooth skin. “Mmm. When hunting. Start slowly. Lean against something your prey uses often. To get them accustomed to your scent.”

“Mmm. Accustomed? Are you sure it won’t drive my prey wild?”

“Oh, of course it will.” I slid my hands up her smooth, strong legs and under her nightgown. “Especially if your prey is hungry.”

“And is my feathered prey hungry this evening?”

Just the feel of her straddling me had awakened my interest.

“It’s safe to say I’m very hungry.”

“Hmm. So your hunting advice is to leave my scent on something my prey will smell?”

She trailed her fingers gently down my chest and abdomen to tuck her fingers under the waistline of my pants.

“Oh, yes. You’ll need to tame whatever quarry you’re after, once you’ve caught them. Early application of your natural aroma will make taming them easier.”

“Oh. Now you’ve got me questioning your hunting skill. There’s no way on Thedas I’ve tamed you.”

“How do you know?”

She chuckled a low, throaty sound as she slid my pants down my legs. I kicked them off.

She slowly eased her gown up her thighs until she could mount me on the chaise. She sat on my thighs, her wet warmth teasing me.

“Which one of us is usually doing the begging?”

I bit my lip but couldn’t repress my smile. I slid my hands under her gown and brought the silk slowly over her head. She shivered at the liquid caress of it on her skin.

“Hmm. Maybe it’s me that’s caught my prey instead.”

She leaned onto my chest and her bare breasts against me made me sigh in pleasure. I used my magic to tease her in places my hands couldn’t reach in this position. Soon, I’d hardened at her soft moans and pants and she kissed me deeply before reaching down to fit me inside her.

I sucked in my breath and pressed my head against the arm of the chaise as she slowly, teasingly slowly, took me into her slick, wet, heat. I rested my hands on her hips, aching already. But I didn’t rush things. I couldn’t hold back the groan when she settled down on me, our bodies as closely joined as possible.

“I love when you make that sound.” She slid almost all the way up, then glided down my length again. She pulled several needy sounds from me with the same enjoyment on her face as I felt when I made her cry out in pleasure.

“By the Fade. You feel amazing taking me like this.”

Every time she came to rest against me now, a small sob of need slipped out of her. I tightened my hands on her hips and thrust up into her the next time. Her throat and jaw were so beautiful when she threw her head back like that. I licked my thumb and rubbed her clit with it. She increased her pace and it made her beautiful breasts sway.

I rubbed her harder when she tightened around me, coming close to a peak, her breath broke on a moan and she clamped down around me. I gasped and cupped her breast in my other hand. I bit my lip, hot and needy.

She softened from her pleasure and leaned breathlessly against my chest. “I can’t…”

“I’ve got us, Mir’ras.” I braced my feet on the floor, filled my hands with her delectable ass cheeks, and thrust harder and faster into her. Her nails in my shoulder as she buried her face in my neck with a low moan spurred me on.

“Fuck, Sule.” Slick and tight she surrounded me and teased me with her wetness.

She slid her hand down my arm to my wrist, holding my hand snuggly to her. Our bracelets gleamed in the low light. “Ar ma’gar’as, Vhen’an.” (Come for me, love).

Her keening pants had me biting my lip. Soon she tightened around me again, slamming herself hard down on me with a sharp cry as she came again.

My balls tightened as heat ran from my shoulders down my hard belly, up my tightening neck, and down my back to pool at the base of my spine before delicious, tingling ecstasy overcame me with a harsh groan and a flood of pleasurably burning heat deep inside my mate. We panted together as we came down. I kissed her temple. “Do you need more?”

She sleepily shook her head on my shoulder. “Quite satisfied. And sleepy.” Then she giggled. It tightened her around me in tiny flutters. “Our beloved got you hot earlier, huh?”

“Mmmmm. You have seen him.”

“Mmhmm. Indeed, I have. And hope to see more.”

I rested my head back and wrapped her snugly in my arms. We floated peacefully on our enjoyment for a time.

Eventually, she murmured into my neck, “At some point, I want us to share ourselves together as a group.”

“Me too.”

She yawned.

“You’re okay?”

“It’s the wine. Some of the heavier reds knock me to the Fade.”

“As long as you’re well.”

I got us cleaned up and snuggled in bed together. She curled into me with a happy sound and fell almost instantly asleep.

I opened my book, still a little worried over her health. Solas and I had to do another run to get some more shards for her.

Chapter Text

SULE’DIN

I’d fallen asleep on Lahn’s shoulder, but I woke in the dreaming. I sat next to Solas with our feet dangling over a precarious feeling edge. Even if it wasn’t any more precarious than anything else in the World of Dreams. His warmth as real as if we sat together in the Lighthouse. 

I looked around. Fade islands floated all around us, and we must have been sitting on another. Rainbow magic floated in currents between the islands. Waterfalls fell in sparkling threads.

“It’s beautiful here.”

“I wanted to share it with you. A recreation of my favourite retreat. It looked like this in ancient Ar’lath’an times, and likely still does. It’s quite out of the way. I’ve not checked to see if the el’u’vi’an still stands, or I would have taken you there in the real. Whenever I needed to escape, I’d come here.” He gestured to an el’u’vi’an set up at the back of an open air temple. A plethora of pillows, blankets, and thicker pads to rest on cluttered the cozy spot. All in brilliant jewel tones. Three concentric gold rings decorated the carved marble floor, and stuffed bookshelves circled the edges of the slab.

Hesitantly, I rested my head on Solas’ shoulder and he slowly slid an arm around my waist, measuring my reactions. Dragons larger and in different shades than any I’d seen before flew around the islands. Dipping and swimming in the currents of magic.

“Great Dragons. As intelligent, if not more so, than any other intellectual species. First born of Alas. There used to be so many. When we lived in peaceful coexistence.”

Other winged creatures flitted about. In the far distance, a silver and blue griffin caught light so that it sparkled. “Griffins are from your time. I saw them in the memories. But were they made or were they actually naturally occurring? Scholars argue about it rather heatedly, I’m told.”

“At one time, there were tens of thousands of e’v’an’u’ris. The griffins were crafted as winged riding mounts. Ones that could be for show or battle. Their creator is long returned to the Deep Fade, but was one of the more benevolent amongst them. Their passion was in crafting new life using their magical gifts. At one time, there were so many interested in learning it that they had classes one could take to learn how.”

“I wasn’t certain if the creatures I saw in the memories had actually existed, or if they were fictional. It can sometimes be hard to know for sure.”

“From everything I can gather, most are as gone from the world as our civilization.”

“You regret its passing?”

He nodded. “Many parts of it. Despite what was truly a wretched way of life for the vast majority, there were wonders. For some of us. The great learning centres, the museums, the rich, intellectual conversations to be had at city salons. The heady games played at royal courts. The variety of life we were constantly surrounded by. Dracolichs and griffins are likely some of the last creatures, other than ancient el’vhen, who came through the ages. I wish I knew what had happened to the griffins. They seem to have lasted until relatively recently. I’ve not had time enough to dream near places that might give me the answer.”

“Why did so few others? Do you have a theory?”

“As far as creation went, it was not difficult to craft creatures. But ensuring they could reproduce without the aid of a powerful mage… that was different. Few had that level of skill. For a time, there was a fad for neck dragons.”

“Neck dragons?”

“Mmhmm. Small, jewel toned creatures that looked like Great Dragons, but that were more like a combination of cat and dog. People trained them to warm their necks. They were more closely related to mud lizards than actual dragons, but they were beautiful.” He used his magic to show me some of them. “They likely did not last long past the veil. They were a dying trend long before we destroyed our world. And they needed a great deal of ambient magic simply to exist.”

“Could some still live in the Fade?”

He snuggled me closer and I sighed, melting into his body heat. My heart raced with both desire and wariness. He’d hurt me badly, and even though I didn’t want to hold on to anything, convincing my subconscious was another matter entirely.

“Anything is possible, in the Fade. I’ve not had time to simply exist here since I woke.”

“Be nice if the world would stop needing saving every two years or so.”

He chuckled softly. He wore simple brown leggings and a loose, lace up shirt of soft, green linen.

“Did you wear neck dragons?”

He snorted softly. “No. They defacated something horrible down the back of anyone wearing one for too long. I was far too fond of my clothing to risk it.”

“Vanity, thy name is Solas?”

“A veritable peacock.”

“I don’t know why I find it so hard to believe. You’ve worn robes a few times, I know…”

“Vain, headstrong, cocky, hot-blooded. I was a different person before the last war.”

“Wars, regardless of reason, change everything.”

“Mmm. That they do.”

Ratcheting calls filled the air and Solas pointed to a flock of birds coming to land in the trees. They each had long, elaborate plumage. “Firebirds. Those are a naturally occurring Fade species. Noisy, but incredibly beautiful. They prefer the Deep Fade islands. They give each flock a settled home. They’re quite territorial.”

They glimmered in metallic shades and glowed as if lit from the inside by flames.

“Why is this where you would come?”

“It’s far from silent and calm, but the sounds of nature drove out other thoughts. I made it clear that I needed time away, or I could not perform as her pet. She never cared enough to see through the ruse. I would spend days here, reading, sketching, and thinking.”

“I can’t truly grasp how lonely it must have been for you.”

He slid my braid through his fingers. “When you know nothing else, it is average. I do not quite understand how the Dalish can live so closely together.”

“In some ways, it’s cozy. In others, suffocating. I had my own places to go at every stop, to be away. But there’s almost always someone to talk to, or someone to just sit quietly with. I imagine we’re likely descended from peoples freed during the rebellion as much as any of the e’v’an’u’ris. Though most clans have an overabundance of pride about which ‘god’ they’re descended from. I doubt that’s likely to last.” I chuckled sadly. “I suppose I should count myself lucky I’m not descended from you or Lahn.”

Solas shifted to sit behind me in a crisscross to unbraid my hair. “That would have been impossible. Neither of us ever allowed it.”

I leaned my head back with a soft moan as Solas's strong fingers gently dug in and massaged my scalp. “I’m surprised she didn’t insist.”

He snorted softly. “She tried. But Lahn and I both spelled ourselves infertile every year, as necessary. It never occurred to her that we would not want to have children. She may have also thought it so unlikely as to be impossible. Lahn and I had to hide our relationship. Like contraceptive runes, the spell needs to be performed by someone else. She kept having children frequently. Cementing her power with bonding contracts, breeding loans…”

I wrinkled my face. “Is a breeding loan what I think?”

“A person lent as property to create offspring? Unfortunately.”

“I think I’ll continue to be grateful I wasn’t born until this era.”

“I don’t blame you. We were monsters. Some of us still are. Did I tell you that J'u'ne and Syl’aise have sworn themselves, honestly, to our cause? They’re going to help with protecting the Dalish and providing supplies to us.”

“I don’t think so. It’s a relief to know we only have four to fight, instead of six. Counting M'y'th'al. Were… are they siblings as well?”

“Yes. I am M'y'th'al’s eldest child. But Syl’aise was not originally an e’v’an’u’ris. She is a later addition to our so called family. J'u'ne worked darker magics to summon and preserve Syl'laise.”

“Like Ghil’an’na’in wasn’t always one?”

“Indeed. Though the method differed.”

“Subject change!” I squeezed his knee. “What’s your favourite colour?”

“You cannot guess?” His tone held a light teasing.

“Hmm. Green?”

“But which shade of green, ma Vhen’an?”

“It’s hard to think with you turning my brain to mush. But don’t stop. I shall persevere. Dark emerald or dark forest?”

“Both. And peacock blue-green.”

“Coincidentally all shades that set off your natural colouring to perfection. Wasn’t that a past tense on vain?” I smiled playfully at him.

“A little vanity has not harmed me yet.”

“Do you know mine?”

“The jewel toned blue of a Great Mistral high dragon.”

“Bugger. I do remember telling you that, now. Okay, smarty pants.”

He chuckled softly behind me. “I do not actually know what your favourite flavour is, though.”

“The first mountain strawberries of spring. Just when they first ripen. They’re no bigger than your smallest fingernail but so full of flavour.”

“I’d like you to show me sometime, if you would?” Hesitation laced through his voice.

“I would love that. I don’t even need to guess what your favourite flavour is.”

“Oh? Are my secrets so simple to decipher?”

I laughed. “Solas. You could probably keep the chocolate industry funded all by yourself.”

“I’m not that bad.”

“Mmhmm. It’s a good thing you’re a mage or you’d be as plump as my Mamae's cat.”

“Deshanna has a cat?”

“Of course you know her name.”

“Not much more than that. I believe I learned it when we helped them fend off the attack. So, is the cat sleek or fluffy?”

“A great, fluffy, orange beast. He’s the beloved terror of camp. Mamae bonded with him before any of us were born, so Riordan has been part of my entire life. At times, I missed him more than half my clan put together.”

“Do you like cats?”

“A lot. I keep meaning to find one who likes me enough to live with me, but for a long time, I travelled, even though I lived at the temple. It didn’t feel fair to adopt a pet only to have to constantly leave it behind.”

“There were always cats around the temple of Mythal.”

“There still are. I haven’t been without feline affection. I just don’t have a special friend of my own. Do you like any particular type of animal kept as pets?”

“Dogs loathe me. They sense the wolf, especially Mabari. I have a fondness for cats, and my ravens are friends. I enjoy watching other animals in their natural environments.”

“Oh my blesséd tits. Solas! You’re the reason for all those bloody bears on the Storm Coast!”

He buried his head behind my neck, shaking with nigh silent chuckles. “Should I attempt to obfuscate?”

“No! Why so many bears?”

He pulled me closer and rested his spread legs on either side of me. “I like bears. They can keep a secret.”

“But why so many?”

“There is a buried temple to Dir'th’am’en in the area. Bears, wolves, ravens and owls are drawn to places of power used by any of the three of us.”

“Now I feel guilty for murdering so many.”

He snorted. “They attacked first. I remember you always asking us to go around wildlife whenever possible. They are simply drawn to the area. They are not pets or friends. Just very hungry wild bears. It’s not like you could talk them into surrender, ma Vhen’an.”

“Mmm. How many languages do you speak? You spoke fluent Qunari before… well. Everything.”

“Alas that they did not listen. I regret needing to stop them as I did, but I was not willing to let them harm you, or me, or any of our friends. I speak every known language to at least some extent. Spirits of knowledge are usually delighted to teach, and Dir'th’am’en can find most information we require easily.”

“Lahn thought me calling the spirits of the Well ‘people talking in my head’ hilarious. I hope you don’t mind me asking him to explain how it happened to you. I didn’t want to bring up any bad memories.”

“I have always felt lucky that I do not remember our making and melding. And no, I don’t mind.”

“I hope you know it doesn’t bother me. I don’t really have different personalities of my own, but I definitely have invisible people talking at me frequently.”

“I… am struggling. Being so open.”

“I don’t need you to be open about every single thing. Just not to shut me out. Everyone has secrets to some extent.”

“I should have told you everything that night in Crestwood. As I had intended to do.”

I pulled Solas' arms around my waist. “You should have. But I also understand why you were afraid to.”

“I don’t usually run from danger. I am confident in my skills in many areas. And being vulnerable, emotionally… with knowledge about me, I am not brave with that.”

The corner of my mouth lifted. “Yet. Here we sit. Being open and vulnerable with each other. Even though we’re both afraid. Bravery is doing the thing afraid.”

“It is so easy to know that regarding other things in life.”

I turned so I sat on my knees. I slowly reached out to gently touch his face. “I hope you know I’m happy with any progress. You needn’t force yourself to do anything you aren’t ready for.”

His gaze held wonder and apology and fear, but he reached out to trace my jawline. “I was a blighted fool to walk away from you.”

I bit my lip to attempt to repress my smile, and failed miserably. “I won’t argue with you about that. Just don’t do it again?”

“I do not deserve you. Either of you.”

“We will agree to disagree on that.”

His mouth lifted slightly at the corners. “You certainly have not grown less stubborn.”

“Nope. If anything, I’m worse. Want to rethink that bond?” My voice trembled a little as my heart raced in fear. But I couldn’t help it.

He shook his head slightly, seriousness filling his gaze. “Nae, ma Bel’lan’a’ris vhen’an. Ar’tu’las var’vhen’in. M’enasal vhen’an, thra’and’in’ma. Ar’melana uth’la.” (No, my forever love. I still hold our love inside. My blesséd love, you dwell within me. Now and forever.)

I had to drop my gaze and blink my lids quickly to keep tears from falling. In my wildest dreams I’d never even dared to hope he would ever say something like that to me.

He curled a finger under my chin and gently coaxed me to meet his gaze. “I would only leave you if you told me to go. I do not deserve your love, or this chance to repair my mistakes. And I am a selfish enough bastard that you are stuck with me unless you send me away.”

“Solas. You’re foolish if you think I’m ever sending you away.”

“As long as I am your fool, I can be quite happy with that.” His callused thumb caressed my cheek, fingers still curled around my chin.

My face heated. “Oh, I’m looking forward to claiming you. You’re mine as long as you want to be.”

“Have a few millenia to spare for a fool?”

I smirked and looked skyward for a moment. “I’m afraid I’ve already been claimed by two rather attractive el’vhen.” I shuffled closer on my knees. He still had a head and then some in height on me, even with me kneeling.

“Oh?” His gaze dropped to my lips.

I endeavored to look innocent and mirth danced in his eyes. “I’m afraid so. They’re both loves to last millenia. And ones I’m not remotely willing to give up.”

“It is good then, that your loves do not wish to lose you either. Especially the one sitting with you. He has been a wretched fool, but has learned his lesson.”

“Has he?” A note of hurt ran through my voice.

He slid closer to me and took both my hands in his. He gently ran a thumb over the back of each. Shifting, rainbow Fade light gleamed off his silky red hair. “He has. Most assuredly. Years of loneliness, longing, and regret are excellent teachers, Vhen’an.”

I leaned closer and gently brushed the tip of my nose against his. “Years of love, faith, acceptance, and family are probably in his future.”

He did that tiny double headshake he’d always done when resisting something.

“Stop thinking you don’t deserve it. It’s honestly not your decision if you do or not. It’s mine. Lahn’s. I say you do.”

Solas ran a hand through his loose hair and glanced away with a slight half smile. “He has said something very similar to me.”

 “Well. You’re out voted then.”

“I suppose I am.” His gaze dropped to my mouth and he flicked the tip of his tongue over his lips.

I tilted my head and said, “What do you want right now?”

Pink flushed his cheeks and the tips of his ears. “Your taste on my tongue.”

“What’s stopping you?” My heart raced and I swallowed.

“Sule’din…” he whispered. The longing in his voice ached.

“Kiss me, Solas.”

A slight, repressed whimper sounded. But he pulled me closer to him.

I let him come to me. Our last kiss had been one of acceptance and forgiveness, and I’d initiated it. I needed it to be him, this time.

He slid a caressing hand to cradle my head and tilted his.

My breath hitched when he brought his mouth to mine. He gently brushed my lips with his, deepening the pressure on each pass. I groaned softly when he pressed fully against me. I opened to him when he flickered his tongue against me and he slid into me. I enjoyed the silky curves of his tongue stud. I moaned, and he let a tiny sound escape. One of such need and longing.

My heart and breath both raced as I lifted my hands to run my fingers into his silky hair. He tasted so good. Magic, chocolate, oranges, and him.

Strong hands wrapped around my waist and lifted me to pull me closer. I settled my knees on either side of his thighs. Then I wrapped my arms around his neck and pressed myself against his chest. I couldn’t get enough of him. Everywhere we touched sent pleasure singing through me like bottled lightning.

Slick tongues danced and swirled around each other and my nipples tingled, aching for his mouth on them.

A soft cry escaped me, muffled by our mouths when he slowly ran his hands down my back to cup my ass. He pulled me closer, against his hard length and my breathing stuttered. I wanted him so badly. Awake or asleep, with him or apart, I had always wanted him.

Cautiously, he ran his hands back up, along my sides and teased along the curves of my beasts.

I pulled back only long enough to whisper, “Yes,” against his mouth before kissing him, easing back enough that he could touch me.

His hands trembled as he cupped my softness and he gasped. He pulled back to watch my face as he teased my hard nipples with his thumbs. I bit my lip and arched my back, pressing myself more firmly against his hands. He gently pinched them and my head fell back.

“Sule’din.” He kissed along my jaw and down my throat, licking, sucking, and nibbling. He hissed in pleasure when my nails dug slightly into his shoulders.

My skin ached, craving more of his touch. I wanted to throw both our clothing aside, but didn’t want to push us too far, too fast. Even there in the Fade.

I ran my hands over him. His strong back and shoulders. Firmly muscled arms and chest. I’d be able to take him so easily as hot as he’d made me. I drew his face up and kissed him.

We teased each other for some time, not wanting to stop but not wanting to go farther yet. By the time we managed to ease back, we were both shaking.

“I want you, Solas.”

He cupped my ass and pulled me against his thick, hard heat again. He pressed against me just where I needed it. “Decidedly mutual, ma Vhen’an.”

I whimpered that time. “Keep that up and you’ll be learning first hand what I sound like.” I gentled us with soft kisses and light caresses. “You may have lit a fire, you know.”

“I don’t want to push us faster than we should go, but…” he squeezed my ass. “Know I truly don’t wish to stop.”

“Me either.”

I wrapped myself around him and whispered, “I have missed you. Deeply.”

“Every moment, waking or sleeping, I have longed to be with you.”

I hugged him tightly and he buried his face in my neck, inhaling my scent. “We should wake,” he murmured. “It is day.”

I groaned reluctantly. “Dawn is a beastly hour of the day to be awake.”

He chuckled. “‘Tis almost mid-day, ma Vhen’an.”

I moved so I could look into his face. “How can you tell?”

“You develop a sense for it, over time.”

“How has an entire night flown by so fast?”

He lifted a hand and gently ran his thumb over my bottom lip. “When the company is as exquisite as this, I’m amazed I noticed at all.”

I blushed. “A courtier’s tongue, too? I am very much in trouble, aren’t I?” I gently kissed him. “It’s a good thing this is exactly where I want to be.”

“The same is true for me, Vhen’an.”

He kissed me gently and woke us both up.

Chapter Text

Solas

Soft sheets scraped, rasping against my oversensitized skin. I groaned and buried my head under my pillow.

Against my will, my hips flexed and dragged my aching, hard length against the firmness of the mattress. I bit my lip to hold back my whimper of need. For Fade's sake. I’d never be able to function like this.

I flipped over in bed and shoved my pillows into a comfortable position. I closed my eyes and brought to mind everything Sule’din and I had just experienced together.

Pre-cum already wet my belly and my foreskin had retracted. I palmed my rigid cock and hissed at the stimulation. I pumped myself slowly. Sinking into the sensations.

Her soft lips, welcoming, silky, and warm as I’d lowered my head to hers. The intoxicating honey and mist scent of her skin and hair. Her taste. Dreaming souls, her taste. Rich, and sensual, and so badly needed for so long.

I throbbed, aching, and my veins pounded against my palm as I worked myself up. My breathing grew choppier as I stroked myself.

Her hair had been softer than bunny fur, cascading over my hands as I massaged her scalp. The way her lower lip plumped when she bit it made me want to nibble, too. My breathing grew harsher, catching as tingles swept over me.

I couldn’t help my low groan at the way she’d pressed close to me. The delicious softness of her breasts against my chest, then my hands. Her nipples hardening tightly under my thumbs. Her small, eager gasps and whispers as I’d moulded and cradled her the way I’d always longed to do, and never allowed. My pace increased at the remembered feel of her. The taste. The slick swirling of our tongues as we danced together. The pressure of lips, teeth, and tongue.

The warm satin of her skin as I’d trailed my mouth down her throat, the delicate tinge of heat tipping her ears all drove me higher, faster, harder.

The musky, sweet scent of her arousal filled my mind and I whimpered as heat rushed through me. I hooked a foot over them and pushed the blankets down.

A slow trickle of sweat trailed from the hollow of my collar bones, between my clenching pecs, and slid lower. I slowed my strokes, soft whines escaping through my clenched teeth as I teased myself.

Her body heat against me, her weight on my thighs. My hands overflowing with her generous ass when I pulled her closer to me. I gasped, heart racing and need scraping me with roweled spurs. The soaked seam of her leggings and the softness of her that I so badly wanted to sink into. The imagined sensation of her wet tightness enclosing me made me press my head back against the pillows with a low moan.

My nipples ached around my rings and I ran a hand over my flexing belly to play with them. Pressure built in me, my balls tightening. I bit down on a harsh groan as my lower belly hardened and the muscles of my jaw pulsed.

Pleasure as fast as flame arced through me. Racing like El’vhen liquor through every part of me. I moaned softly with each panted breath. Close. So close. I squeezed my hand tighter around myself.

My breath came ragged and I bit out the words, 'Thra'and'ar'in'ma, Sule’din.” (You dwell within me, Sule’din.)

Liquid lightning raced up my belly to my nipples and slid over my shoulders. My neck tightened, cabled and hard. Heat melted down my back as I kept the perfect pace, pooling at the base of my spine and circling back around to shoot out of me in a molten surge of deliciously sharp ecstasy.

I rode it, trembling and shuddering with my release. Hot streams of cum jetted over my belly and lower chest.

Half dazed chuckles interspersed with soft gasps as I caught my breath.

Sweaty, spent, and still hard, I flopped back against my pillows and floated on the amazing high for a few moments.

My eyes still closed, I murmured, ‘Thra’and’ar’in’ma, Sule’din. Ar'melana uth'la. (You dwell within me, Sule’din. Now and forever.)

Clean and dressed for the late lunch we usually shared, my lips turned up. If just her memory turned me on that much, what would being with her in the flesh be like?

My peacock blue-green robes shifted with every motion as I stood sorting through my jewellery in the wide room dedicated to it. The corner of my mouth lifted as I added just one more subtle piece than I’d worn yesterday. It hadn’t escaped my notice how Rook’s gaze followed the gold like a fascinated corvid.

I suppose I'd be jangling worse than they did eventually. But for now, I’d enjoy the harmless amusement.

I checked, and Sule’din and Lahn had already gone down. I cautiously navigated the stairs. I did not need a reminder of a fact concerning Rook and I that I buried at every opportunity.

I had to admit—as I made my way to the dining room—that food had gotten much better since Lucanis, Lahn, and Bel'la'ra had decided to do most of the cooking.

As I walked past Rook’s chair, I moved my wrist just so. The candlelight glinted off my bracelets. I did nothing so gauche as to show an expression, but the way Rook’s gaze followed the Ar’lath’an era jewellery made repressing a slight smile harder than it should’ve been. I ran a hand over Lahn’s strong shoulders where he leaned back in his chair.

As I sat on the other side of Sule’din, I made sure the light caught on the pigeon blood cabochon ruby on my middle finger. Sule’din was bound to notice before long. Hopefully, she wouldn’t call a halt to my teasing. I hadn’t had this much fun in ages. Sule’din immediately reached for my hand and intertwined her fingers through mine. Such a simple gesture, and it made my heart throb with my love for her.

We’d all learned by then to just stay out of Lucanis’ and Fel’as'san’s ways.

Shay sat next to me wearing red hair, pale skin, and green eyes, their gown was another piece from their obviously reclaimed wardrobe and draped their figure in one of the many styles there’d been in ancient Ar’lath’an. Hiding very little and accentuating the rest. They tipped their head suspiciously at me and I let the thought of my game through my shields.

Chuckling silently as plates were served, they sent, ‘Rook already hates you. And you’re playing wolf and crow games?’

‘Tsk. I’m doing no such thing. A little vanity hasn’t ever harmed me. And you must admit the way their gaze follows the gold is—

‘Mmmm. Entrancing?’

‘Try not to break their heart, please. I rather like having you closer again.’

‘Rook and I are on the same page that way. No strings, no jealousy, no emotions, just pleasure.’

I caught my sib’s gaze. ‘Are you certain? Rook might be, but what about you?’

Shay shook their head sadly and then let their mouth spread in a sultry smile they cast at both Rook and Lucanis. ‘I’m not capable of the kinds of gentle emotions love would require anymore, Fen. You know that. After what happened… that witch tore what was left of my heart out when she tortured her to death. My beautiful El’ath’adra didn’t deserve such an end.’

I sent a gentle mental touch. ‘I hadn’t meant to reopen old wounds. I worry for you. Rook could be the very definition of emotionally unavailable.’

‘Those wounds never close. It doesn’t pain me any more to talk about it than it does when I don’t. I wouldn’t have ever been able to see El’ath’adra again even if… I wouldn’t have destroyed everything she loved by taking it from her just so she could follow me into the cold and dark.’

We’d all finished eating and Fel’as'san had cleared the table. Shay swirled a garnet wine in their glass.

‘She was a good el’vhen’lan. One I was honoured to call family. Nothing can ever help, but I personally made certain she received every honour.’

Shay’s lips lifted at the corners. ‘I knew you would have, Fen. There are many reasons you have my trust and loyalty. Your honour is just one of them.’ Shay sipped their wine. ‘But that’s why Rook is safe for me to dally with. Neither of us is emotionally available. It’s uncomplicated and simple. Though, I must admit they puzzle me greatly.’

‘How so?’

A faint frown lined Shay’s brow. ‘They’ve asked nothing of me but what I freely gave.’

My heart broke again at how badly damaged Shay had been by virtue of being made the way they were. M'y'th'al had coaxed a Spirit of Choice for Shay. And as an e’v’an’u’ris they were still one of the most powerful beings to ever walk Alas. M'y'th'al had used all of us. Cruelly and willfully. Each of us bore far more than our share of baggage.

‘I’ve heard tell that’s how relationships are supposed to work.’ I sent a warm glance at both of my beloveds.

Rook and crew were playing some sort of loud card game at the other end of the table. They’d been out fighting late the night before so were resting that day.

Shay snorted and a real smile tugged at their mouth. ‘And just what do any of us know or understand about healthy relationships?’

I ran my thumb over the back of Sule’din’s hand as she chatted with Lahn.

‘I hope you’re ready to learn. Sule’din is determined to teach us all to be a family as she understands them to be.’

Shay’s eyebrows almost reached their silver horns and they pulled back. ‘I am not living in an ara’v'el. Not even for you. I’d need nine for my wardrobe alone. Halla are pretty from a distance. But stinky and loud up close. I absolutely refuse to take up the life of someone who lives in a wagon.’

‘Not like that. But by being there for each other. Knowing her, there are holidays she’ll insist we celebrate together. She had the lot of us doing them in Skyhold.’

I had to repress my grin at Shay’s expression. ‘Give it a chance. It might not be awful.’

‘Hmph.’

I smirked and angled some light from a bracelet so it would cross Rook’s vision. Their head whipped around and I kept my face steady, though I honestly wanted to laugh. Audibly.

Lahn’s smirk let me know he’d figured out my game. I shot him an innocent look that he in no way believed.

The doubled doors opened to admit a harried Dorian with Bull on his heels.

Sule’din, Lahn, Shay, me, and, surprisingly, Rook stood almost in sync. Amaranta in her dark purple-blue leathers, and Lucanis in his simple, neat clothing lounged in their chairs the same way they had been. But I had little doubt either of them could kill in a blink. Bel'la'ra had her staff ready. Harding had taken up a permanent scouting position with one of the gathering companies of fighters. Neve had returned to Minrathous.

“Dorian?” Sule’din’s voice held worry. She nodded fondly at Bull while Dorian made a beeline for a clean glass and an open bottle of wine.

Once he’d slugged back a full glass and glanced appreciatively at the label, he said, “Slightly better. Solas? Raiders attacked the southernmost village.”

Tension slid over my shoulders and orders flew from me as I called a map from my study to spread across the denuded table.

Rook’s crew didn’t hesitate a moment in accepting my lead. The only one stubbornly glaring at me was Rook. The rest had scattered to prepare.

Dorian poured for everyone as we all found the village on the map. Bull traced a thick finger from where the village sat toward Minrathous. “They hit two nights ago. Krem only just crashed in with the report. He rode as fast as he could. He was visiting a lady friend not far from there. The bastards will probably have reached here.” Bull pointed.

I surveyed the map and tapped an area next to a cliff. “Terrain here?”

Dorian tilted his head then shrugged. “All I know is that it’s unpaved and absolutely beastly.”

Bull chuckled slightly. “Steep drop from the cliff to the sea, on the other side a reasonable sized hill. Ambush?”

“We’ll ask Varric to mine the leading edge. These caravans always have the prisoners in the back. Do we have the Chargers?”

Bull dropped his chin.

“Thoughts?”

Bull filled me in and we spent the next hour ironing out details. I could pull three units of my agents, too. And some of my best had been guarding that village. As soon as possible, I’d need to visit. I doubted the raiders had gotten them all, so it was likely that we’d have tired but effective reinforcements coming from the rear, as well. I traced out the movements of our people until I had it memorized.  

Bull nodded thoughtfully. “Couldn’t come up with better myself. Excellent plan.”

I kept my gaze on the map, memorizing the surrounding area as best as possible. Did Bull not know who I truly was? Though he had to at that point. He treated me no differently than he had in the Inquisition. Quiet, hard-earned respect. It touched me that he cared enough to do so.

Fade knew what he’d heard about me in the time since we’d last spoken. And he treated me like the simple, fire-prone, apostate mage I’d pretended to be for years.

Or perhaps, everything else was the act. I’d never expected to have to learn how to have a life and family past the ritual.

“Don’t even think about leaving me behind.” Rook stalked up on the other side of the table. Their fists were knotted at their thighs under their full sleeves.

“We can use your bow, if you’d be kind enough to offer your skill.”

Rook frowned as if they expected a trick, but their fists slowly released.

Sule’din looked so frustrated that I pulled her to me. “You’ll heal. Then you can fight with us again. I’ll leave Lahn and Shay here with you and Bel'la'ra. You can all handle yourselves if something goes awry. Fel will be making resource packs for the recovery efforts.”

Rook made gagging sounds from behind me and I allowed myself an eyeroll. Sule’din couldn’t have had even marginally mature sibs?

“When will you all leave?” She fisted her fingers gently in my robe and tucked herself closely to me.

“There’s an e’l’u’vi’an not far from the location, so duskfall. I’d like us set up well before the convoy reaches the ambush site.”

She nodded against my chest, sucked in a hard breath then straightened her shoulders. She lifted a slow, gentle hand to my cheek. “Be careful?”

I looked down and met her gaze, lifted her hand and pressed a gentle kiss to the back of it. “I shall always take care when I know you’re waiting at home for me.”

Rook muttered, “Tattered sails, gross.”

Chapter Text

ROOK

How do I get into these predicaments? If there were actual gods, I’d be wondering if they’d cursed me. My fingers slipped in Solas’ wet fur. He hung like a sack of wet laundry from my hands. My waist and hips ached from where I’d landed on the jutting lip of stone that was the only thing holding us up from a fatal fall. I wasn’t even sure if an e'v’an’u’ris could survive it. But I certainly wouldn’t. They were, according to Sule’din, nigh immortal. They didn’t often get ill. They didn’t age, but they could be killed. “Come on, banal’vhen’an, wake up and at least save yourself.” (Asshole/heartless.) I groaned. “You know I’d absolutely drop you if my sister didn’t love you so much. Right?”

The heat coating my fingers made me angry. How dare he leap into the way of a blow meant for me? With ill grace, I admitted it would’ve killed me outright had he not.

Instead, it had sent both of us flying, then sliding, right off the edge of a cliff.

We’d almost finished the battle on the freedom raid to release the enslaved people. The more people we kept out of the hands of the enemy e’v’an’u’ris the better. It had hurt something deep inside me to see Elves with vallas’lin willingly serving the mage-fucks-of-the-age. My heart burned at having found my former lover on the wrong side of this war.

They’d left me no choice but to kill them in self defense. We’d learnt by then that the lines glowed faintly and the person’s eyes glazed over when the ‘gods’ were puppeting them. These… hadn’t had those signs. It hadn’t made killing my own people any easier. Solas had been acting as mage-warrior and as covert scout in a slightly bigger than average black wolf form, as needed.

“Sule’din will never forgive me if I drop you, you know.” I groaned again, the landing might’ve cracked a few ribs and my side burned wretchedly.

“Down is easier than up.” Papae’s voice rang in my mind. From a time he'd been teaching me as a kid. I strained my gaze through the misty night we’d used as cover for the freedom raid, and found our way out. Oh, but this was going to hurt.

I cautiously let his weight pull me down until I could get a leg around the stone shard we hung from. It might actually have been the remnant of an ancient statue. Maybe a finger? My hands slipped and I solidified my hold. He’d have been bitching if he were conscious. I locked my ankles, leaving me upside down with a wolf as big as me, if not bigger, dangling precariously from my clenched fingers. I centered myself to ignore the pain, made sure I had a firm grip, then started swinging him. I’d need his weight to get me as far as the ledge I could barely see through the mist. I just needed to get enough momentum for it to drag us both that far, and time it right so we didn’t drop to our deaths. No big deal. Oh, Sule’din, please forgive me if I kill us both with this.

Swing, swing, swing, deep breath, time it right, breathe out, swing, I unlocked my ankles and let us fly.

I rubbed the scar on my left wrist absentmindedly while the elfroot tea brewed. My trick had worked, sort of. We’d hit the shelf of stone, but I hadn’t been able to see the long slope on the other side. We’d tumbled painfully down to where a river met the sea. Coughing and gasping, I’d hauled our asses out of the salty breakers and collapsed on the beach. At least the salt had slowed his bleeding. I’d rested only long enough to check our wounds, and to dig some witch hazel and yarrow powder out of a waterproof pouch and put it on them to slow the bleeding even more. Then, I’d slung Solas over my shoulders and walked in the river away from the sea.

The Tevene slavers wouldn’t be happy. We’d gotten the enslaved free before Elves wearing vallas’lin had released whatever that contraption had been. Dwarvish make, if I were any judge, but powered by something. Steam or magic maybe? Damned dwarves and their tinkering. Damned mage-gods stealing my people to use as soldiers, and others as sacrifices. Damned Dalish still believing the god dicks had our best interest at heart. Dalish working with Tevene slavers! Every enslaved person we’d freed had been terrified Qunari or they’d worn vallas’lin. As if those wearing Dir'th’am’en’s or Falon’din’s were being targeted for some reason. Though why escaped me.

I’d hauled Solas’ stinking, heavy weight at least a kilometer upriver, then found a small, safe cave in the limestone cliffs. I’d accidentally dropped him in the river when I’d tripped, just outside the cave, but at least it had cleaned him up a little. You could still hear the breakers if you listened closely. I doubt any of them, if they’d even seen us go over the edge, would think we’d survived. But no way on Thedas would I be enslaved again. It had hurt, badly, to get us to safety, but I’d done it. As soon as we felt better, we could get home. Maybe we’d be really lucky and those bonds Solas and Lahn had exchanged while saving Sule’din would allow them to find us.

But I doubted it. Our party wasn’t due back for more than a week. We'd been supposed to take the newly freed people to a northern village. Dorian, Bull, and Varric had likely thought us dead or captured, and led the thirty or more previously enslaved away. We’d have to get ourselves out of this.

I’d dumped Solas as gently as I could on the dry, silty floor of the cave and gone about readying the camp for a few day’s stay. I’d wanted to be done before dawn. If anyone were hunting for us, staying out of sight was wisest. Hurt, I couldn’t move as well as I usually did, which meant I’d be easier to track. Wounded as we both were, we’d needed a bolthole. I’d been as careful as possible to leave few tracks. Hiding wouldn’t do shit for us if I led them right to the cave with carelessness.

The scar under my moving thumb slicked, soft, smooth, and raised. For years after I’d escaped, I’d sat as close as possible to flames and heat sources. They’d denied most comforts to the enslaved galley workers. Including heat. But flames and fire had always mesmerized me. Even as an elfling. Little dancers and acrobats appeared amongst the steadily burning logs and pirouhetted, dipped, and flipped through the oranges, reds, and blues.

‘That is impressive. Many mages struggle to control fire and you have it dancing and tumbling.’

“Ack!” I glared up at where I’d left the stinking heap of my sister’s mate. “Are you in my head? Why are you in my head? Ga’rahn! Get away!”

‘Relax, Rook. It’s a simple speech ability. Many El’vhen could speak mind to mind. It is especially effective now considering wolf mouths are not made for verbal speech.’

I grumbled low in my throat and hugged my knees close. “Stay out of my thoughts, Fen’e’h’d’is.” (Old Wolf's dick.)

‘I have absolutely no desire to see what passes for thoughts in your mind.’

I slammed to my feet, immediately regretting it when my bruises and cracked ribs screamed. I wrapped an arm around my midsection. Fuck that hurt. But it just fed my anger.

My rage echoed off the cave walls. “I save your stinking hide, get us both to safety, get things so we can be as comfortable as possible, and you say something like ‘I don’t have thoughts worth seeing?’ By the green, what does Sule’din see in you?”

I’d yelled. Most Dalish were very soft-spoken. I never yelled. Especially when I feared being hunted. Solas just brought out the worst in me in so many ways. I closed my eyes against the pain and instead of stalking off in a huff, I held my ribs and dignity and left the cave.

Misty rain soaked my only just dried face. The slide down into the sea had taken skin with it, and fuck, I ached. I listened to the surrounding area, closed my eyes, and then felt it, too. Nothing beyond wildlife. No slavers searched for us from the fight on the cliffs. But no one else seemed to be looking for us either. Tears burnt my lids. It brought back all the emotional damage of being enslaved, of wondering if anyone was even looking for me.

“Stop it, Rook. You got yourself out of that. You can get yourself out of this. Even with a millweight of an arsehole god-wolf around your neck.” A small, secret part of myself burst into tears. Why couldn’t someone save me? Just once? When I’d really needed it. Get me out of a shit situation, take me someplace safe, clean me up, mend my wounds, see I’d been fed, and tuck me into a soft, warm bed? Tears burned and, as usual, failed to fall. I moved away from the cave entrance. Last thing I needed was Solas to see me teary eyed. He’d probably pounce on anything even remotely resembling weakness. I went down to the river, moving slowly and cautiously, like I did when hunting. I didn’t have it in me to fight anymore right then.

Isabela and M'e'r'ri'll had likely tried to care for me when they’d found me in the dinghy I didn’t have the strength to row anymore, but by then, I’d been a feral creature who hid in corners brandishing a stolen blade. I have no idea why they hadn’t just tossed me back like the awful catch I was.

Sule’din had saved me the night of the ritual… but… if I were truly honest, and I obviously had no emotional barriers left at all just then, I wished she hadn’t. Not only had she paid a wretched price for it… I’d never have risked myself against The Dread Wolf if I hadn’t wanted to die and just been incapable of doing the deed myself. To say I had a death wish would be putting it mildly. Everyone who knew me had always seen me as reckless and that’s what they all chalked my behavior up to still. But I knew the truth. My pain weighed down anything happy, anything good. Even my habit of never committing to a lover or two was probably related to it. No attachments. Just physical pleasure. Release from myself for a while into pure sensation.

The water ached against my bare feet, frigid with mountain run off. I found a clear spot downstream from my fish traps and sat on a convenient rock. Time to catalogue my injuries. Again. Maybe I should’ve found a way to stay a history keeper.

Painfully, I unbuckled and -laced my armour and set it aside. That was going to be a right mess to clean, and the Caretaker wasn’t anywhere about. My shoulders slumped in fatigue. It would have to wait. I tied it all up, buckling straps together so I wouldn’t lose any pieces.

Shit. Part of the blow Solas had guarded me from had clipped me, anyway. It had gone right through my leather armour and deep into my waist. The snuggly fitted leather had kept enough pressure on it I hadn’t really separated it from the rest of the pain. It didn’t look like anything serious had been hit, but the gash still leaked and needed stitching. Oh, that was going to hurt. As would cleaning it.

I refused to have any grace at all in acknowledging that he’d saved mine first. I hadn’t asked him to. And he’d also thrown us off a fucking cliff. Not on purpose, just by falling into me, but still.

I swallowed and muttered quiet curses that the river’s babble ate as I stripped out of my shirt. It was completely ruined but it would have to function. Aih, fuck, I hurt. But if I didn’t get our wounds tended, we’d get worse.

I slipped out of my pants and waded, hissing at the cold, into the water. I got as far as my knees before a frondy figure made of water swirled up in front of me. I gasped but thankfully didn’t fall on my ass. Water spirit. If I hadn’t been around the Caretaker, I’d probably have tried to fight it. Veil down, spirit folk were free again.

It waved a frond at me, backing away. Spirits generally held no ill will, so I followed it.

I went slowly. I needed to rinse everything off, but I didn’t want an unexpected dunking. So I inched forward, feeling the bottom as I went. I dragged my clothes with me.

A deep sigh of relief escaped me when the spirit stopped over an eddy of the river. The water was noticeably warmer there. “Thank you.” I bobbed a small bow to it and it floated off.

Getting the wound in my side clean had me cursing and gritting my teeth even more. Sand, tiny rocks, and bigger pieces of gravel were lodged in it. Sule’din had better appreciate me saving her stupid wolf’s life. My armour might not even be repairable if it had let that much junk into it. I washed it as thoroughly as I could, three times. Once we were back at the Lighthouse, maybe one of the mages would heal me, or the Caretaker. Shay definitely would. Halla shit. Why couldn’t I be with Shay instead of Solas? It would’ve been pleasant to spend a few days stuck with Shay. But for now, I had to get the crap out of it and the bleeding stopped.

I wobbled with the pain of it but finished. Then cleaned my clothes as best I could by scrubbing them with the semi-rough sand of the river bed. Then I did the same for the rest of my skin and hair. My teeth chattered fiercely, but I waded deeper. I’d learnt as a child to get all the sand off if I didn’t have proper soap to bathe with. I needed sleep, and sand caught in awkward places would make that harder.

I thought of Solas and his probably still dirty fur. I almost sobbed. I didn’t have the energy or strength to drag his ass to the river, scrub him clean, then get him back to the camp. Maybe his previous dunk in the cold water would be enough. But I at least had to clean and stitch his wounds, too. Plus, the smell of wet canid made me gag. He’d started to dry out in the time I’d sat there like a lump, apparently magically controlling the fire without realizing it. Maybe that explained my headache. That or the fight, then the fall down a fucking cliff, swinging us to safety, tumbling down a rocky slope into the sea, and hauling over two hundred pounds of unconscious wolf up a fucking cold river, then setting camp might explain it, too.

I waded to shore and surveyed my equipment. I’d already emptied one of my two waterproof pouches to carry water in. I’d set up a tripod to brew elfroot tea. I’d much rather drink it than chew the tingling stuff.

Ah. There was a possible solution. I left my wet clothes with my armour and moved down the riverbank. I’d decimated the cattails making the sleeping pads and harvesting their edible roots, but teasel grew not far from it. I snapped off a few of the dried seed heads. Maybe if I groomed Solas, he’d be comfortable enough to sleep. Which we both desperately needed to do to heal. From living with mages most of my younger years, I knew they couldn’t heal themselves, and if wounded badly enough, they couldn’t cast more than the simplest of spells either. Solas and I were stuck together for a few days. Joy of joys.

I gathered a few more things that might help our situation, checked the fish trap, harvested the fish, and hauled everything back to the well hidden camp. Pride filled my shivering body. From the outside, even a few feet away, you couldn’t see or smell the campfire. Papae would be so impressed. The ambient temperature this far north was quite warm, the fact I still shivered wasn’t a good sign. I’d treated Solas’s injuries with styptic herbs, but I hadn’t even known about my worst one. My ribs were bruised, but not even cracked. The pain had all come from the cut.

I paused before going inside. If I was incredibly lucky, Mr. Talks in people’s heads without permission had fallen asleep or passed out. If luck were truly on my side, he’d done me the favour of dying. It wouldn’t even be my fault.

I went inside and breathed a sigh of relief but screwed up my face in a pout. He’d moved, likely painfully, so he didn’t rest on his side anymore, but on his belly. He’d lain his head down on his paws and his eyes were closed. Breathing moved his torso in slow, even rhythm. He was either asleep or faking it and I didn’t care which.

I hung the clothes on sticks I drove into the soft silt of the cave floor to dry, then braced the fish on more sticks over the fire to cook. It had enough coals by then that we wouldn’t have to eat them raw. Not that it would’ve been the first time I’d had to eat raw fish. I’d started carrying a waterproof pouch with survival materials in it when I was little. After escaping and Isabela fishing me out of the sea, I’d made the pouch bigger and stuffed tighter. I winced as an involuntary huff of almost laughter escaped me. It had certainly been helpful.

Once I had everything arranged, I knelt next to the fire and carefully set out my materials. I hated stitching myself up. But it wouldn’t be the first time, and definitely wouldn’t be the last with the way things were going.

By the time I’d finished, my fingers and curved needle were slippery with blood, and my hip and flank red with it again. Adrenaline had me weak and trembling. I sighed, then made a face at the silver sparkles twisting through my blood, glitter that marked me as a fucking mage, stupid Solas and his stupid ritual.

I huffed my way back to the river and rinsed it all, then painfully made my way back to the cave. I flipped the fish and the leaf wrapped cattail roots roasting next to the fire. Then I arranged everything on the ground next to Solas. Even if neither of us liked it, that slice had to be stitched. What even were those mechanical contraptions shaped like weird pyramids? The Elves serving the gods had either unearthed or built new toys.

I took a few moments to drink some elfroot tea, softly bubbling in the leather tripod I’d set up. Sticks I’d harvested from our surroundings, but the triangle of prepared leather had been in my kit. I added more leaves and water. It helped my thirst and would ease the pain, while combating any infection that would inevitably show up.

Then I took a moment to close my eyes. Wishing I could just lay my aching body on the soft green leaves covering the cattail fluff. I’d filled two trenches with the stuff to make rudimentary sleeping mats. It wasn’t much, but resting on something soft was better than laying on hard ground. I was stalling. Las halam’sh’ir. Ugh. Whether I liked it or not, Solas had become ‘my people’ when he and Lahn had bonded with Sule’din. She and I had talked about it, I’d needed to know she was okay with our decision, and she had no intention of breaking the bonds. I made a face. I’d be Ommer to their kids if they ever had any. Ick. Why couldn’t my sister have better taste?

Mentally grousing, I went and knelt next to Solas. He still looked asleep. If we were both lucky, he’d passed out enough I could clean and stitch his wound without having to actually talk to each other.

I gently pressed the silvery blood soaked fur to the sides and winced. Bone gleamed pinkish white from the wound. That blow really would’ve cut me in half. How it hadn’t done the same for him was probably an effect of some stupid El’vhen magic. Or maybe his god like prowess. Ancient El’vhen glory, maybe. I didn’t really fucking care. But at least the witch hazel and yarrow had done their work and slowed his bleeding to a seep. His thick fur had protected him from the harsh bits that had gotten through my armour. I trimmed it back on either side of the slice.

He had so much metallic silver in his blood it barely had any red at all. I made a face, then cleaned the gash as best I could with boiled water before carefully stitching it closed. Like I’d do later with mine, I used some of my small supply of healing ointment to plaster long, purple and green royal elfroot leaves over his wound. I’d been lucky to find it, it was nowhere near as common as regular elfroot, and three times as powerful.

Then, with a heavy sigh, I picked up the teasel, used a torn strip off my shirt to cushion my hand, and carefully started grooming him. I fell into a meditative trance, sliding the brush like tines through his slightly damp fur, dislodging anything that might make sleep harder. Though he didn’t seem to be having any trouble just then.

I frowned when I found myself caressing his soft as silk ears. Why did I have to notice such a thing? He was clean enough. I packed my stuff and levered my aching body to my feet. Then dipped some of my torn shirt in the elfroot tea. He’d had some painful looking wounds on his face and snout.

I took it over and gently dabbed at them to make sure they were clean. Then fell on my ass with a squeak, followed by a repressed gasp at the pain when he opened purple eyes. ‘Ma seranna.’

“You were awake?”

‘Do you think many could have a wound like that stitched without being so? I appreciate the brush.’

“Ros'dar'en'a ma'ban. (You will be my ruin.) Why didn’t you say something! I thought you were unconscious!”

‘You objected to the only way I can speak in this form. I was attempting to respect your wishes.’

“But you didn’t make a sound? That’s… not a nice wound.” I resisted the urge to roll my eyes at myself. As if any wound in these conditions could be ‘nice’.

‘I could say the same for yours. And you made no sound either. I apologize. I thought I had kept the blade from you.’

Solas thanking me, respecting what he thought were my wishes, and apologizing? I had to be delirious. That or he was. How did you even test for fever in a wolf-god-el’vhen-whatever?

I picked myself back up and brushed dried silt off my butt. I went to the back of the cave and rinsed my hands in the farthest of the three small waterfalls, where it fell into a crack in the floor. Then served the delicious smelling fish and cattail roots on large green dock leaves. I settled his portion in front of his face with my second waterproof pouch full of elfroot tea near his pointy canine nose.

“Don’t even think of complaining. Drink your tea like a good doggie,” I smirked and went back to my side of the fire. Sule’din had been so mad at Solas when she’d come back to us that she’d told us everything about him. He hated tea, but it would help, so he could just deal with it.

I checked my clothes, still too damp. I didn’t need to let my wounds chafe against them, but I really hated being naked around Solas, of all people. Dalish didn’t have any sort of modesty taboo. Living so closely together, it would’ve been ridiculous. We just considered it polite to look away unless invited. Being nude around others usually didn’t bother me. Solas was apparently my exception.

I dived into my food like a complete heathen who’d never heard of table manners. Hunger could make even awful food taste good, but I’d need to remember to thank M'e'r'ri'll. I’d grown up Dalish, and I knew how to survive comfortably in many areas of Thedas. But I’d never been able to cook to save my life.

In the years since they’d found me. M'e'r'ri'll and I had gone camping many times. She needed time in nature as much as I did. She had such a quiet, peaceful energy about her. Learning things I’d always been too impatient to learn before from her hadn’t always been easy, but pure gratitude filled me then. I didn’t have to eat charred food.

‘Does it truly bother you if I speak to you this way? I cannot shift back just yet.’

I sighed. He’d been so quiet while we ate I’d let my mind drift to happier times.

“I… no. Of course not. As long as it’s only speech and nothing else. You just startled me.” Then insulted me, again. I made a face then fed the fire. We’d been lucky, the cave had had a pile of tangled river wood and bones in the back, washed there by long faded floods. We had plenty of firewood. A boon for certain. I eyed the high water line. Well. Hopefully there wouldn’t be another flood.

I internally groaned. “Do you need help outside before we settle for the night?”

He tried to stand and whined so faintly I wasn’t certain I’d heard it when he settled back down. ‘Some aid will be required, yes.’

I closed my eyes for a moment to isolate and tuck the pain away enough that I could stand. Nudity be damned, I guess.

I went to Solas, and between the two of us, amidst a great deal of swearing, we got him to his feet. He leaned heavily against my hip, panting in pain, as we went outside.

“I can stay?” Not that I wanted to.

‘Nae. I can manage. But I shall need help returning. And I would like to drink water, if possible.’

“There’s a small spring in the back of the cave. It’s probably safer to drink there. Void knows what Minrathous does to its water. The river seems clean enough, and it’s mostly mountain run-off by the temperature, but still. Tributaries around the city might feed into it.”

‘Ma Seranna.’

I left him and went to see to my own needs. Then waited next to the river, shivering. I checked the fish trap and happily snagged a few more, some watercress from the river’s edge for flavour, and some of the huge dock leaves I’d used to make the beds, wrap the roots, and serve our meals on. I hissed as one of the burrs pricked me deep enough to draw blood. I muttered, “Thank you for your life, dock, that eases mine. Blood debt be paid. Now give me that fucking leaf!”

‘Help returning would be appreciated.’

I rudely mimicked him in my head as I sucked my bleeding thumb. Stupid wolf.

He leaned heavily on me to the back of the cave, drank, then, back to his sleeping pad.

‘All of your preparations are skillfully crafted.’

“I’m Dalish. Did you think I didn’t know how to live like one?” My voice snapped, rude. But I didn’t have the energy left to care. I’d hit my wall and if I didn’t settle to sleep soon, I’d pass out.

I focussed my faintly wall eyed vision as I cleaned and wrapped the fish in the leaves, glad I’d gutted them next to the river. They could roast over the coals while we slept and we’d have food for the morning. I wrapped some more cattail roots and set them beside the fire. What else?

I checked Solas’s wound and tapped the leaves back into place. Thanks to the sticky honey ointment, they hadn’t shifted much. I refilled the waterproof pouch with water from the back of the cave and left it where he could reach it. Tea would’ve been better for him, but I’d probably tortured him enough for the time being.

I drank a large serving of it, refilled the leather tripod, added more leaves, and fed the fire again. Before collapsing, I rigged some trip lines on the approach to the cave, and a belled warning line across the entrance. Neither of us were well enough to stand guard. As I set my weapons within easy reach of my sleeping area, I said, “Trip lines and alarms across the front. Be careful if you need to get out. Do you need anything else?”

‘Nae. Ma Serrana.’

Then I lay down, covered my wound with sweet scented ointment and plastered the last of the fresh royal elfroot over it. Then, darkness.

My mouth tasted like something had died in it. But at least my cheek wasn’t stuck to Izzy’s ass this time. Then the pain in my side made its blaring entrance into my consciousness and memory flooded back. Humping hallas, I’d so much rather I were hungover and in bed with someone. At least then the night before would’ve been fun. I blinked sleepily. I’d rolled to my good side in my sleep and Solas’ annoyingly pretty purple eyes opened in his black furred face. Stupid wolf.

I sighed. Back to the struggle to survive and get us home. Huh. When had ‘home’ become the Lighthouse? Enh, it was home enough for now with Sule’din and Lahn in residence. It’s not like I really had one anymore, anyway.

I got us out to see to our needs, then back in and settled with food and more elfroot tea. If a wolf’s face could scream absolute disgust, Solas’ did. I smirked as he glared at the elfroot tea.

“It tastes worse cold.”

‘There is no way in Thedas that it could taste worse than it already does.’

“Mmhmm. Okay. Be a good puppy and drink your medicine. Or I could come pinch your nose for you and pour it down your throat if that would be easier.”

He may have grumbled a tiny growl, but he had to be in so much pain that I let it slide. I wasn’t exactly in the best of places myself. Sleep had helped some, but I was still exhausted. I ached everywhere and tea could only do so much.

After I’d eaten, I cleaned my hands and used my fingers and another teasel to coax the tangles out of my hair. Solas watched me quietly, his gaze lower than my face. It didn’t take long before it got on my nerves. “Never seen a naked person before?”

‘You have many scars.’

My fingers automatically went to the one the collar had left. That’s what he’d been looking at, not my chest. Thank the sails. We’d both very carefully avoided the knowledge that we did, in fact, have a strong physical attraction to each other.

My voice dropped deeper, bitter. “Enslavement tends to do that. Leave scars.”

‘I know.’

That was it. I know. As if some spoiled prince of ancient Ar’lath’an could have any idea. I shook off the old anger. Solas hadn’t enslaved me. And I’d creatively killed the ones who had. But I’d always bear the scars. Outside and in.

I checked both our wounds, pleased to see no sign of infection. “Do you need anything? I’d like to see if I can find something other than fish and cattails to eat.”

‘Nae. I shall rest. Scream loudly if you have need and I will find the strength to help.’

“Oh, just keep your furry ass right there. I’ll be fine. I’ve survived much harder things than this all by myself. I don’t need anyone’s help.” Least of all, his. I’d learnt my lesson about depending on anyone else when the person I’d loved, and I’d thought loved me, had turned tail and run while slavers took me. Even if that hadn't ever been the full truth. I pushed those memories away, dressed as best I could in my torn clothing, belted my knives on, and wished for my bow. I’d lost it when we went over the cliff. My eyes stung as I carefully navigated my way through the restored warning bells. My papae had made that bow for me and I would dearly miss it. I’d taken the trip wires down for the day. The last thing I needed was for one of us to flop over a wire and hurt ourselves some more.

SOLAS

I woke when Rook returned. They moved so silently that many others wouldn’t have. But my life had long ago honed my survival instincts to a cutting edge. I kept my eyes mostly closed.

Were all Dalish as graceful as both Rook and Sule’din? I’d never gotten to know any except Sule’din closely, not since they’d stoned me for trying to tell them the truth. I had many Dalish sworn to the cause of El’vhen rebellion and renewal, but I intentionally kept a distance from most of my agents.

During the first years of me leading a rebellion against the e’v’an’u’ris, I hadn’t followed that personal rule. Until I’d had to provide mercy killing to friends for one reason or another. It had broken something else in me. After that, I’d kept the distance.

Rook sat by the fire after quietly storing their gleanings. Pain crossed their face as they skinned the four rabbits they’d snared. They spitted them, stretched the hides to dry, and built up the fire. Then they used a slim stick to roast the livers, hearts, and brains. High nutrition parts, even if they didn’t taste the best.

I hadn’t been exaggerating. The number of scars I’d seen on them, both last night and this morning, made it clear they both were used to extreme pain and had survived a lot. At twenty-seven or twenty-eight? I hadn’t known they’d been enslaved before. It must be what Lahn had been referring to that day in the loft. The experiences that had hardened Rook. They must have been captured after I’d left the Inquisition. Sule’din would’ve been a wreck about her sib if she’d known about it then. The single threat to her clan during those years she’d dealt with ruthlessly.

How long had Rook been enslaved for? I wanted to know but would never ask. We didn’t ask each other things like that. Those of us who’d endured enslavement. Just like we never asked what sorts of things they’d done to us before we’d escaped or were freed.

Rook glanced my way and their shoulders relaxed at my play at sleep. Then they set the trip wires again and curled up. They were asleep within moments.

But their prickly, incredibly combative nature made more sense to me. I’d gone through a very similar phase after I’d rebelled. Determined to do everything myself and never need anyone or anything. A deeply honest self-defensive reaction that Rook possibly didn’t understand told anyone who knew to look for it what was going on in their head. Sule’din very likely didn’t know how much their sib wanted to die.

But I did.

Chapter Text

SULE’DIN

I paced nervously up and down the hall of my Fade sanctuary. My feet fell silently on the thick carpets. Lahn and I both could tell something had gone wrong, so we waited anxiously, on my part, and patiently on his.

“Sule. Ara ma'gar'as, Vhen’an (Come here to me, love). Pacing won’t help.”

I blew out a frustrated breath. “It’s just that Solas didn’t or couldn’t come last night. I’m terribly worried.” I moved to the lounge just beyond Lahn's workshop and Solas' studio. A thrill filled me at the idea that he’d finally get to see it. In all the years, he’d never come inside. Just patrolled my walls and slept in my outdoor retreat.

I sat on the dark blue, velvet covered couch and snuggled up under Lahn's arm. The windows and doors all throughout my sanctuary were open. Letting in the soothing sounds from the garden.

“He'll come as soon as he can. If he's been injured somehow, he may have slept without dreaming. That first night. We’d both know if he were dead or mortally wounded.”

“I hate waiting.”

Lahn dropped a kiss on the top of my head. “So impatient.”

“It’s just… we finally got him back. Both of us. I’m terrified we won’t get to build what we’re all hoping for because of this awful war.”

“Well. The nice thing about being somni’ar’i, and El’vhen, even when our bodies die, we continue to exist in the dreaming. We won’t lose each other completely.”

In a small voice, I said, “I thought I would be dragged into the Well?”

“M'y'th'al would never have made something she would be trapped in that way. If you choose to let it go back to its original form, you will have a choice. Do you remember the control phrases I taught you?”

I nodded silently.

“Use the one for release, followed by the one for resist. The Well will separate from you and leave you alive, if diminished. Carrying the Well makes you so much more powerful than you were before.”

“What happens if I’m killed unexpectedly?”

“You’ll likely become a memory being in the Well. Unless your will is strong enough to counter the limits intertwined within the construct. You might die, your spirit might break free, and the memories would return to the temple. We would all find one another here, most likely.”

“If I don’t get lost again.”

“You were half alive, half not. Uth’en’e’r’a is a strange half-way state. If we’re talking about true death and not uth’en’e’r’a, the Well would protect itself first. And we found you once, we’ll always find you.”

I snuggled closer and nested my head under his chin. I played with the laces on his shirt. “As much as I truly love having access to all this information, and that I’ve been able to help so many of us with it… sometimes, I wish I’d had a better option than Morrigan. The fact that it ties me to M'y'th'al… that scares me.”

“Ask Solas about the transfer of her power, if she gave him everything, she gave him that…” Lahn winced. “Control factor as well. He would never use it that way.”

“But M'y'th'al would likely still have some sway over the Well as its creator. And the bearer?”

Lahn reluctantly nodded. “Likely.”

“Even if they made my skin crawl, maybe I should’ve kept my vallas’lin. Solas wouldn’t ever allow Dir'th’am’en to control me.”

“And if you had someone else’s vallas’lin, it could counteract M'y'th'al’s power if she ever gets her claws into you. It… might not be a horrible thing to consider. Although… Sule. Solas, for very strong reasons, slept for over half a millennium at one point. I don’t think he’d do it again with us here, but… it has happened. And both Dir'th’am’en and Falon’din aren’t innocent of using the vallas’lin as designed.”

“Solas never designed one as the Healer, did he?”

“No. Not to my knowledge. After being bound by them from the moment he woke in this world, for millenia, he never liked the practice.”

“Shame. I wouldn’t have minded wearing the Healer’s. And he would never hurt me.”

“Wear the Healer’s what?” Solas’ voice sounded so tired.

I don’t think I’d moved so fast in a long time. He’d spoken from outside the open door.

I raced down the hall of my sanctuary and threw myself at him before he could blink.

He let out a little laughing grunt and caught me. “You missed me? I take it? Or is this a new form of attack you are practicing?” His arms wrapped tightly around me and it felt like my heart could beat again.

“Are you okay?”

He whispered, “This is your sanctuary. May I come inside?”

I nodded against his chest. “It’s always been meant for all three of us. Even when I didn’t think that could ever be.”

Solas lifted me to carry me inside. I wrapped myself around him, my nose in his neck, body plastered to his, and my legs around his waist. He paused for a moment to take in the Fade-lit entryway and glass domes, the intertwined El’vhen and Dalish designs in the decorations, the complete lack of any depiction of e'v'an'u'ris.

He paused again in front of the door to the studio I’d stopped trying to make go away.

“Do you like it?” I whispered, faintly nervous.

He dropped a kiss onto my hair. “It is perfect. And I am so…” His voice thickened. “That this is already here, and has been long enough for Fade-dust to gather. You never stopped.”

“Loving you? Wanting to be with you? No. No matter how furious I got with you, I’ve always loved you and wanted you here with us.”

Solas leaned his cheek against my hair for a moment. Then he carried me into the lounge, sat down next to Lahn with me still in his arms, and leaned his head against Lahn’s.

Solas let out such an exhausted sigh.

We just sat cuddling together for some time. Enjoying each other’s presence. I finally breathed a sigh of relief. He was okay. Maybe injured or trapped, but okay enough to get to us in the Fade.

“What happened?" I murmured against his throat.

Solas flopped his head back against the overstuffed couch and said, “It’s easier if I show you. Is that okay?”

I nodded and Lahn grunted an assent. Solas lifted a hand and the area in front of the couch disappeared. The clash, shouts, and explosions of battle took the place of my calm room.

“It took us four hours to travel from the el’u’vi’an to the ambush site. It took us a day to set up. They reached us the second night. The caravan had between thirty and forty prisoners. By this point in the battle, we had almost won. Then vallas’lin wearing Elves working—willingly it would seem, with the enemy—released a contraption I haven’t seen since ancient Ar’lath’an.” An oddly moving bi-pyrimidal shaped… thing, crafted of shiny gold metal trundled into the battle.

“Both Rook and I are alive, if badly injured. We’re safe, for now. Thanks to Rook. If we don’t manage to strangle one another. I dreamt while I napped this afternoon and asked a spirit of Memory to show me everything that happened. I was unconscious for much of it.”

He ran my braid through his fingers. “Look near the edge of the cliff. Rook was extremely distracted with that enemy and didn’t see the construct.”

My soft gasp stopped his recitation, and I slid to sit on the edge of the couch. “Oh, no. Oh, Rook, I’m so sorry, Da’len.” My eyes flowed over and I swallowed. “That person Rook was fighting. That was their betrothed. When Rook was around four or five, we attended the Ar’lath’vhen. Dalish parents... they often give up a child of their blood to accept a child, under betrothal contract, for another of their children. My youngest sib, next to Rook, our brother, was almost eighteen and very willing to join a new clan for the good of our people. With the Ar’lath’vhen every ten years, it’s considered a good way for the kids to build a friendship, always knowing the idea is that they’ll eventually bond. They were together for years as friends training to be history keepers. At the next every decade Ar’lath’vhen. Despite Rook’s wishes at the time, the ha’rhen'al formalized their betrothal. They could make Rook laugh so much. And… they weren’t being controlled.”

The wide eyes above a strong jaw and set in a squared face carried bloodlust and hatred, but no glazed over effect. Elgar’nan’s vallas’lin didn’t glow. They were there of their free will.

Rook kept backpedaling and fighting defensively, shouting at their former lover. Coming ever closer to the cliff’s edge.

Rook’s face crumpled, probably about the time their heart broke. Again. My poor baby sib. Why did they have to bear so much pain? Then Rook’s jaw firmed, they dropped their chin and went on the offensive. Rook almost never stopped training. They rarely stopped moving. The other enby didn’t really have a chance once Rook had made the decision to kill. Behind Rook, the gold pyramid thing drew closer, and the way it swung a four times bigger than average sword… my gut churned. Even though I knew it was in the past, I begged my sib to look, to see it coming.

Rook caught their betrothed, and very possibly lover, around the waist as they buried their short sword in the other enby’s chest. A heart strike. The enby’s eyes widened and their hands involuntarily dropped their weapons. Their lips moved, and Rook’s face paled.

Rook’s teary gaze never left their ex-lover's even as the light flickered and they went limp. They lowered the body to the ground. Too gently for in the middle of a battle. They swallowed hard and pulled the blade out and dropped it with a horrified look at the glittery blood on the blade and their hand. Then shook their head, bringing themselves back to the dangerous situation. They’d grasped their bow to re-enter the fight when Solas, in a much smaller than average wolf-form, one lacking his six eyes, magic crawling all over him in a hastily erected shield, came barreling in to leap in front of the pyramid-thing’s blade to protect Rook.

But the weight of the blow, and the obvious magic on the blade not only sliced through Solas’ shield, it threw both my beloved and my sib off the sheer edge of the cliff.

The perspective changed, and Rook dropping one of their most precious possessions, their bow, to grab onto Solas as they fell filled me with both warmth and sadness. “Rook doesn’t have much left of their youth. They gave most of their old belongings away. Papae made that bow for them. It was one of the few things that they reclaimed after their return to Clan La’v’el’lan. They cherished it beyond most physical possessions.”

I winced when Rook caught both themself and an unconscious Solas, leaving them both dangling like soaked laundry.

“Come on, banal’vhen’an, wake up and at least save yourself.” They groaned. “You know I’d absolutely drop you if my sister didn’t love you so much. Right?”

Solas huffed a bit. Muttering, “I’m very glad you love me so much. Even an uninjured e’v’an’u’ris wouldn’t have survived that fall.”

“Sule’din will never forgive me if I drop you, you know.” They groaned again. Obviously in a great deal of pain. They looked around as best they could, squinting through the mist. Such a look of resignation crossed their features.

Rook then pulled several acrobatic moves that would’ve had me crashing into the waves. It left them hanging upside down, dragged straight by Solas’ weight. Then Rook swung them both to safety. I gasped the moment they unlocked their ankles, even though Solas was right there with me. I held my breath as they hit the ledge, then tumbled down the incredibly steep slope to land like dead fish in the breakers along the narrow delta of a fast moving river and the sea.

Rook, fingers still clenched tightly in Solas’ fur, hauled them both out and dropped to their knees, an arm curling around their waist. They flopped over for a few moments before they muttered, “Ros'dar'en'a mir'din, Fen’e'd'h'is era’ha’rel. (You will be my death, wolf dicked demon mage.)

They hauled themselves to their knees and fumbled with a pouch. Then sprinkled what was probably an herbal styptic powder on the slice in Solas’ side. But didn’t treat the wound trickling blood down the leather cuisse guarding their thigh. They bowed their head after putting their pouch to rights. As if gathering their strength. Then they hauled Solas up onto their strong, archer’s shoulders and set out, walking carefully up the river. Hiding their tracks.

We all watched Rook’s precarious trip up the river in the misty dark. Then as they set camp. Although everything Rook found and used were generally considered quite simple tasks for a Dalish, they were badly wounded, and obviously in shock.

Solas sighed. “This is not my proudest moment.”

“Ack!” Rook glared at Solas over a tidy campfire. “Are you in my head? Why are you in my head? Ga’rahn! Get away!”

Solas murmured, “I was groggy and in pain, so I didn’t think before using mental speech with them.”

“Stay out of my thoughts, Fen’e'd'h'is.”

“I foolishly phrased that I didn’t wish to violate their privacy.”

Rook shot to their feet and anyone else probably would’ve screamed. A faint wrinkle on their brow, and them clapping their arm around the waist of their torn armour was the only outward expression of Rook’s pain.

My eyebrows shot to my hairline when Rook shouted, actually yelled at Solas. “I save your stinking hide, get us both to safety, get things so we can be as comfortable as possible, and you say something like ‘I don’t have thoughts worth seeing?’ By the green, what does Sule’din see in you?”

The image froze.

“I shall apologize,” Solas murmured. “I didn’t mean that they haven’t thoughts worth listening to, just that I wouldn’t violate the privacy of their mind. I wasn’t at my best, I truly hate people calling me names, and I could’ve done better.”

I squeezed his knee in forgiveness. If he said he would, he’d do it.

Without moving from his seat, Lahn handed refreshments to everyone, a mug of tea and a plate of cookies to me. A cup of cocoa to Solas. Then, Lahn peeled several small, sweet oranges to hand to Solas on a plate.

I tilted my head at the colour painting Solas’ cheeks and the tips of his ears, but he and Lahn shared a moment with each other and I smiled at the hesitant joy Solas held in his expression, and the fondness on Lahn’s face. Was something about Lahn why Solas loved oranges so much? Oranges and cocoa had been about all he’d eat during our Inquisition years. At least, voluntarily.

Lahn arranged wine and cheese for himself then squeezed Solas’s knee.

We watched Rook leave Solas behind and stalk outside. They paused not far from the cave entrance and looked up at the stars.

“Stop it, Rook. You got yourself out of that. You can get yourself out of this. Even with a millweight of an arsehole god-wolf around your neck.” Their gaze sheened over but no tears fell. They sniffed, then went down to the river, sat on a rock, and painfully stripped out of their armour. They examined the bad wound in their waist with a confused frown. Ah, they hadn’t known about the injury. That’s why they hadn’t treated it.

Then they'd waded into the water to clean up. They froze when a water spirit showed itself. But followed where it gestured.

“I’m surprised the elemental spirits are so eager to approach a corporeal being,” Solas murmured.

“Believe it or not, but when Rook was younger, they were incredibly gentle. They laughed a lot, and enjoyed playing harmless pranks. The spirit could probably sense that. Rook’s core self is still there. Just buried under more pain and trauma than most people ever experience.” Sadness wound through me. Rook had been a hugger. Now, almost the only time they let anyone near enough to touch was when they had sex with someone, or wanted to. Mamae and the rest of us had learned to adjust to Rook’s touch aversion before I'd left for the temple. But I couldn’t deny that I missed that carefree sprite of a younger sib. They rarely even let us touch them, and it always had to be on Rook’s terms. While completely fair, it still made my heart hurt.

Rook cleaned up, then went back to the cave with some harvested materials. Both their shoulders and head slumped forward as they paused in front of the cave.

“I certainly haven’t made things easier on them.” Regret threaded Solas’ voice.

Rook stitched first themself, then Solas. Surprisingly, they groomed Solas’ fur to dislodge anything uncomfortable. The slight show of affection Rook showed, caressing Solas’ ears, made them frown. They took care of their things, fed them both, and then got them settled for the night.

I snorted when Rook smirked, pointed at Solas’ nose and said, “Don’t even think of complaining. Drink your tea like a good doggie.”

I squinted my eyes up at Solas. “Sorry about being less than discreet with… well. A lot. I was so angry after you left the Inquisition. Then even more furious after you walked through a mirror to someplace I couldn’t follow. I pounded on that thing until Dorian picked me up and carried me away.”

Solas’s voice husked around deep emotion. “I know. I had my fists and forehead pressed to the other side. You couldn’t see me, but I could you. I watched Dorian try to talk you into leaving, then pick you up, and Bull, Dorian, and Cole took you away. That was the last time I saw you in the real. Then, I fell to my knees and for one of the extremely rare times in my life, cried like my world had just ended. Because it had. Eventually, I went on to my duty. By design, the only thing I had left. But never doubt I left half my heart with you that day. Nor that it utterly ruined me to do it.” He laced his fingers through Lahn’s, the other person Solas loved.

“Let’s just not do that again. Any of the leaving each other behind part. We’re a family. A team.”

I gave Solas a gimlet eye when he opened his mouth. I just knew he was about to say he didn’t deserve us.

He looked down with a blush, then murmured, “I will do better by you both.”

Happy with that, I nodded.

“So. You’re both badly wounded, but Rook managed to treat them.”

“And so much more. I believe I’ve failed you and myself by choosing not to learn about the Dalish. Your sib’s preparations are skillfully crafted. They’re keeping us fed and safe, even while badly wounded. I took most of the blow, but the tip still caught Rook’s side. Whilst I dreamed, I looked for their bow. It seemed special to them, even if I didn’t know how special. But the tide must have been going out when it splashed down. There are two ways out for us. We could follow the coast, which will take us uncomfortably close to Minrathous, or go around a camp to the south to work our way back to the e’l’u’vi’an. But it may take a few more days before we’re well enough for the journey.”

I made a rueful face. “To be fair, the Dalish never did anything to endear ourselves to you.”

Solas’s mouth lifted at the corner. “That’s hardly true. You are incredibly dear to me. You’re Dalish.”

I tilted my head. “I wonder at that sometimes. I haven’t lived like my people in over a decade. The Clan visits the temple, and me, every summer. But can I even still call myself Dalish?”

Lahn’s voice rumbled. “Do you descend from the people of the Dales? Do you still believe in the ways of your people?”

“Of course.”

“Then, if you wish to consider yourself Dalish, you should do so. They’re still your people, Mir’ras. (My light)

“You always know what to say.”

Lahn snorted. “Hardly. I’ve just learned the way you think.”

Heat climbed my cheeks. Sometimes I didn’t think I deserved someone as loving and wonderful as Lahn. I grimaced. That sounded like Solas. It was Lahn’s choice. If he felt I deserved his love, I did.

Solas dismissed the memory show and his empty dishes disappeared from whence they’d come.

“What is it of the Healer’s you wish to wear?” He tilted his head curiously.

I pursed my lips. “It might hurt you. I don’t want to do that. Especially when you’re already in distress. It’s not a needed thing. Could it wait?”

He tilted his head the other way. “I’d rather you told me now. But it can wait if you wish.”

“You may as well tell him. It’ll niggle in that brain of his ‘til he figures it out, anyway. He’s absolutely terrible to get gifts for. He always figures it out.” Lahn gently squeezed Solas’ hand. “She’s right though. It may be quite painful. Still okay?”

Solas nodded. I picked up his other hand and sat tracing the lines on his palm. “While we were waiting, we were talking about how worried I was that this war would steal our chance to be together. Then we started talking about the Well. I didn’t know it was M'y'th'al’s creation when I drowned myself. Nor how truly awful she really is. Though, I probably would’ve made the same decision, given the same options. It’s probably still awful of me, especially because I have human friends, but I didn’t want a human, especially Morrigan, to have them. She and I became closer, after. But… well. I never liked her attitude about our culture. As if she could possibly understand it better than we could. Someone studying a culture and someone growing up within it have completely different levels of knowledge and understanding. An outsider studying a people just can’t understand some things. Not without full immersion in the culture for years and years. Morrigan is known to steal from anyone she feels the need to. Including Dalish.”

I clapped my hand over my mouth. Then said, “Humping halla horns. Solas…. If M'y'th'al, in the form of Flemeth, is Morrigan’s mother… do you have yet another sister? And a nephew?”

Solas groaned softly and let his head flop against the couch again. “Do you have any idea how often I had to bite my tongue when we were all exploring the temple together?”

I snorted. “I’m surprised you didn’t bite it in half. Torn sails, Morrigan’s sheer arrogance probably had a lot to do with me wanting her to never be in control of an El’vhen relic.” I chuckled. “Though, I was just wondering if you’d eaten something that disagreed with you by the faces you made.”

“Well… she’s no blood relation to me.” Lahn smirked. “I like her well enough but—”

“Oh, hold up, if she’s Solas’ sister by virtue of M'y'th'al’s spirit, she’s yours, too.”

Lahn made a face. “Maybe we take a few hundred years to decide. That should take care of the issue.”

I raised my brows. “I wouldn’t count on that. Morrigan has consolidated a lot of knowledge. Even if she doesn’t always understand it. She may have figured out effective immortality of some sort. M'y'th'al surely understood how to keep Flemeth young enough to be functional.”

Solas just sighed. “How old is Kieren now? Twenty something? I met him as a boy.”

I nodded. “I want to say twenty three or four, but I might be off by a few years. Even though Morrigan and I are in regular contact.”

“Reverse to the topic at hand? Perhaps?”

I repressed a smirk and nodded. Neither of my loves seemed impressed at being related in any way to Morrigan. “I’ve told Lahn, but… M'y'th'al in Flemeth’s meat suit stole Morrigan’s son. I went with Morrigan to find him. I learned first hand why you hadn’t wanted me to bind myself to it. I didn’t tell you because it was after Crestwood. I was… nothing more than a puppet. It terrified me. Not just that I held absolutely no ability to move, or cast, or anything, but at how… casually M'y'th'al controlled me. At the time, she was more concerned with Morrigan and Kieren. I think I got off very, very lucky.” I shook my head. “I mentioned to Lahn that maybe I should’ve kept my vallas’lin. I know you’d never hurt me or try to control me.”

I swallowed. “M'y'th'al is still out there. I’m terrified she will get her hands on me somehow. I don’t know how much power she has, if that… control… passed to you when she gifted you her power. I don’t know how—”

Solas picked me up and rested me half on his lap, half on Lahn’s. “She gave me everything she had, so yes, most control of the Well-bearer passed to me. Her spirit then likely went to her closest lyrium body. I highly doubt she wouldn’t have several. But as its creator, she will maintain some. Do you want your vallas’lin back?”

I fiddled with his long, narrow fingers.

“If she weren’t in the world, probably not. But… kind of?”

“I told her about what happened to you after you rebelled. And that both Dir'th’am’en and Falon’din weren’t innocent of using them as intended.”

“And I think that’s about when you arrived. I asked Lahn if you’d ever designed one as the Healer. I doubted you’d have done one for a name someone else slapped on you.” I shrugged one shoulder. “I said it was a shame, because I wouldn’t have minded wearing one you’d designed as this part of you. And I knew you’d never harm me.”

I leaned into Lahn’s chest so I could turn enough to see Solas’s face. To my relief, he looked thoughtful, not distressed. “I do not even remotely expect you to either design or use vallas’lin. They were used against you. And likely, if a new one showed up, people would clamor to wear it instead of the known ‘gods’. People recognize me everywhere I go. If the Inquistor and the Bel’lan’a’ris Ghil'an'a Dir'th'era (Eternal Guide to Knowledge) showed up wearing a new one… I would never ask you to do that. It was just a random thought.”

Solas slid his hand up to gently trace around the silver lyrium scars on my face. “Do you dislike these?”

I dropped my gaze. “Lahn told me they’d have been aesthetically pleasing in ancient Ar’lath’an. And that he found them beautiful. I’ve been trying to see them that way, but…”

Solas smiled. “They are beautiful. But you don’t agree?”

I shook my head. “I look like an Orlesian puppet. I had enough of feeling like a dressed up Orlesian toy in the Inquisition. My associations just aren’t the same. I’ll keep working on it. I’ve reached acceptance, even if they’re a reminder of something painful. I’ll eventually be able to see them the same way you both do. It’ll just take me time.”

“Where are you so we can come get you two?” Lahn gently rubbed the back of my neck.

“It’s a four day hike from the el’u’vi’an to the ambush site, then the perilous path down to sea level. A hike to the cave. It’s likely that by the time you could reach us, we’ll be half-way back. I know the terrain. We don’t seem to be under threat, and thanks to Rook, we’re warm, fed, and have basic medical attention. Once our wounds heal enough we’ll figure out how to heal each other.”

“If you don’t strangle each other first.” I nibbled my lip and met Solas’ gaze with concern. “Are you absolutely certain? I’d rather be on our way to you both the second we wake.”

Solas sighed a little. I had to let him leave soon because he still had to get back to the location he’d gone to sleep in. The Fade had changed with the removal of the veil. Some things were easier. Some much harder. Travel, while still incredibly fast, was one of them. And I really didn’t want to let him leave.

His voice held deep fatigue. “If you could use your tools to get in touch with Dorian? It’s been almost three days. They’ll have reached the village or be close to it. They’ll be worried. We completely disappeared during the battle. No one saw us fall. I asked Memory.” A slight frown wrinkled Solas’s brow. “I’ll do my best to do better by Rook, too. Though I can’t say they don’t make it a challenge. They’ve always worn armour or disguising clothing before. I saw some telling scars. How long were they…”

My mouth quirked down sadly. “Enslaved? They were captured around the time you left the Inquisition. They were fifteen. We looked everywhere, and never stopped looking. About two years after the Qunari attacks on Halam’sh’ir’al, when I’d finally sold everything and closed the doors on the Inquisition. I visited my family. It wasn’t even close to the same without Rook. But about a week into my visit, they came walking into camp, a scarred and battered mess. The wounds on their wrists still healing. So… roughly four or four and a half years. They were nineteen when they came home to us. They got their vallas’lin that summer. I think they tried hard to reintigrate with our clan, but…”

“Enslavement changes so much about a person who endures it.” Solas’ voice held sadness, and anger. “Before the veil, I’d fought enslavement for so long. And millenia later, it’s still a thing that exists. It needs to stop. The world needs healing, not more division.”

“A healer?” I turned enough to hug Solas around the waist. “I might know where to find one.”

Chapter Text

ROOK

I stood near the edge of the river just before it merged with the sea. Looking up at the incredibly steep slope we'd tumbled down a couple of nights ago. It was almost vertical. No way could we get our wounded asses up without a rope. Which we didn’t have. And even if we did, I wasn’t sure there’d be a path up to the cliff we'd fallen from.

I’d checked the narrow, pebbled beach running along the bottom of the cliffs. But my bow hadn’t washed up like I’d half heartedly hoped. When the suck of gravity had yanked on Solas and me, I’d had a split second to decide. My bow. Or Solas.

I sighed. My bow wouldn’t have been half as much trouble.

I turned, and walking in the cold water, I made my way back to camp. Stopping occasionally to harvest berries or elfroot.

Solas was asleep when I got back, thank the spokes. He lay with his head pillowed on his paws. We kept as silent as possible because we didn’t want to alert anyone to our presence. The smoke from the fire was minimal, using such dry wood, but what there was of it filtered up through holes in the limestone.

‘Thoughts?’

I huffed an annoyed sound. “Do you just pretend to sleep?”

‘Nae. I wake when I hear movement. You’re incredibly quiet, and wolves have excellent hearing.’

I groaned internally. One thing enslavement had taught me fast was to internalize every single thought and reaction. Sometimes, I could barely remember the carefree person I’d been. The one who'd laughed so easily, and loved playing harmless tricks.

“So, you’ve been waking up every time I came in?”

‘Would you like me to lie to you?’

“You aren’t even remotely funny.”

Grumpily, I sat down and pulled one of the fresh rabbit hides toward me and started stretching it on a frame made of more sticks and some lacing made from yesterday’s skins.

‘You use everything. Crafting what you need if you don’t have it?’

I searched his voice for mockery. Shrugging a shoulder, I said, “Dalish waste as little as possible. Alas is our mother. To be wasteful with her gifts is anathema.”

‘Is this something all Dalish believe?’

I snorted, almost certain he mocked me now. Disbelief dripped off my tone. “You actually want me to believe you fell in love with Sule and never researched our culture? You must think me stupid.”

‘I… had my reasons.’

“Sure. And those were, what? Too busy sacrificing people for their blood?”

His voice had dropped and held a dangerous edge. ‘I have never, in all the millenia I’ve lived, blood sacrificed a living being for power. Or for any other reason.’

“So my sister was a one off?” Guess that sarcasm would just have to stay puddled on the floor, because I sure as shit wasn’t cleaning it up.

That cold, clipped, snippy tone was back. ‘You strike me as intelligent, and you’re an absolute fool to think I’d have done anything but hold her with Lahn as she passed. It makes me wonder if you’ve ever loved anyone in your entire, miserable, bitter existence. Sule’din didn’t just ask me to use her power, she ordered me to. And as it was her dying wish. I did so. Rituals like that one take years of preparation. And the effective window is incredibly small. She died after ordering me to, in her words, tear the fucking veil down and save the world. And I couldn’t even hold her hand as she passed.’

I physically bit my tongue hoping it would help. Hate raked my insides. “Era’har’el. (Demon mage.) Let me guess. Elgar’nan is your father. You’re both vengeful fucks. You know absolutely nothing about me, who I’ve loved, what I’ve lost. Mala’banal, Fen’ha'rel. (You’re nothing, Fen’ha'rel.) And eventually, even Sule’din will see that.”

His legs wobbled and he growled with pain, but he stood and stalked out.

I picked up the rib bone I’d found in the back of the cave. I’d soaked the hides in the river overnight, wishing I had the materials to soak them in brain slurry. But, I didn’t. So they wouldn’t be as soft as I liked. I’d dehaired and cleaned them that morning. This one had a couple of holes my too sharp blade had nicked into it. I wanted my fleshing blade but it was back on Mamae’s ara’v’el. I hadn’t needed to tan hides in years. I used the edge of the rib to scrape both sides a final time before stretching it in a frame and setting it out, high over the fire. I’d extended it a bit to give me more room. I tossed some oak and hickory wood I’d gathered onto the coals. Before long, I had all four hides stretched out and a smokier fire. I preferred to brain tan leather before smoking it, but in these circumstances, smoke tanning alone would have to do.

Maybe if they tanned fast enough, I could make a new shirt. My current one was more hole than fabric after sliding down the ridge and ripping pieces of it off. I glanced outside and frowned to find it fully dark. Solas hadn’t returned.

I ached. Bruises always felt worse the second or third day and we were both likely covered in them. Ugh. I didn’t want to have to go look for the idiot. Fatigue weighed me down like a boulder. Just as I'd convinced myself to get up, glowing purple eyes appeared from the dark. He limped in, drank, then went to lay down. Moving stiffly, he made himself as comfortable as possible.

‘I scouted upriver. There is a large camp of Dalish in that direction.’

“What colours?”

‘Colours?’

“Their sails, what colours?”

‘Azure blue, scarlet, orange gold, and violet.’

"I’m too far north. I don’t recognize them. If they’re gathered it’s probably for a meeting of the ha’rhen.”

‘We shall have to skirt them carefully.’

I snorted, then winced. Ow. “There’s no easy way out going the direction we came in. We could hug the coast and hope we find a path to an el’u’vi’an somewhere. But if we go toward the camp, there won’t be any getting around them. And you look like a wolf.”

‘Possibly because I am one?’

“Can you bark?”

‘Bark?’

“You know, woof, woof. Bark.”

‘Yes. Why? Oh. No. We are not doing that.’

“It’s better than arrows in your furry ass.”

‘Perhaps. But only marginally. Are you certain we can’t get around them? I can move as quietly as you do.’

I just shook my head. “Nope. The scouts will find us if they haven’t already. You can be my brave dog who helped me free myself from the caravan. Then we stick to the truth as closely as possible.”

He growled. ‘I do not like this plan.’

“Of course you don’t. It’s mine. But it’s also the only way through that area.”

'Why an escapee? Why not show yourself as you are?'

"Because I don't recognize the colours." I tilted my head. “We need you to look like less of a wolf.”

‘The plan will not work then. I cannot affect my forms in ways that change me a great deal.’

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, Theory of Power Rejection. Mages can’t heal themselves or change their living forms a great deal without their own power rejecting it. It’s technically possible and incredibly difficult to do because our powers fight themselves. Shay has the gift of full shapeshifting, but most of you only have a few. Could I affect you?”

‘Shay has been teaching you?’

I reluctantly nodded. I didn’t like to give Solas anything more than he absolutely needed to know.

‘In theory. But you’d have to let me teach you how. And it will be exhausting.’

“That’ll just add versimilitude to the story.” I tested the skins. They were thin. Maybe a couple of days and they’d be done. If I were lucky. Then, I’d be able to craft with them. “We’ll need to make you a collar.”

‘You cannot possibly be serious.’

“You have to sell the act, puppy.”

‘At least give your dog an acceptable name. Solas may be known as the rebellion leader.’

I thought for a moment. “Su’lan.”

‘Why this name?’

“Su'lan was an elven squire known to walk with a wolf at their side.”

‘Interesting.’

“Morning will have to do. We both need rest. Did you break anything open in your hissy fit?”

‘Do you intentionally try to make yourself unpleasant?’

“Only with you, Fen’e’d'h'is.” My tone dripped with acid sweetness. (Old Wolf dick.)

He growled at me. ‘I’m fine.’

I shrugged. He wanted to a dick. Whatever. I'd done my duty and offered. I levered myself to my feet and served the four rabbits I’d pit roasted all day. I’d found some wild carrot, onion, and sage, so they smelled divine.

“You can eat everything you usually do despite your form?”

‘Of course.’

I kept one and a half of the roasted conies and gave two and a half to Solas. He was bigger than me, and it would be a struggle to get even that much food into me. My body had yet to recover enough to accept food easily. At that point, I wasn’t sure it ever would. Starvation had been the average on ship. But we needed as much care as we could manage. Food and rest would heal us.

“To be honest, we could use their help. For healing, if nothing else.”

‘If I let a mage touch me, there is no way on Alas they will be unable to feel that I’m no simple wolf.’

I huffed irritatedly. “Dog, pookie. Get it right. You have to think the role. Dalish, no matter what you might think of us, are far from unwary and unintelligent. They’ll sniff out any deviations before you can blink. Especially the elders. Try to avoid them.” I tore off some more meat. Gamey, greasy and delicious. Once I’d swallowed my food, I continued. “Did you see any dogs?”

‘Nae. I checked to be certain.’

“Some few clans keep dogs. Coursers supposedly descended from the wolves of the Emerald Knights. But they’re often noisy creatures. And they can be hard to feed in lean times. La’v’el’lan doesn’t, but some do.”

‘No guard animals? Especially dogs? Who have a particular dislike of me?’

I huffed a half-laugh. “I’m absolutely certain that if dogs were easier to care for, we’d all have dogs. And I never said we didn’t have guard animals.”

He tilted his head. A creeping guilt crawled over my shoulders from our argument that morning. He’d told me nothing but his truth, even if he did manage to insult me again. But it had largely been pain talking. Both his and mine.

Anyone poking at my emotional wounds got bitten. I wasn’t even certain I could control that, even if I'd wanted to. But… he probably hadn’t deserved that dig about Sule’din. She had absolutely no intention of breaking their bond. And she’d loved him for over a decade. I didn’t see the attraction, liar. But he was my sib-by-bonding. And I’d driven him from our place of safety when he could barely walk. Not very Dalish of me. And Sule’din, Mamae, honestly, every decent Dalish, would be absolutely ashamed of me for that. Even if I wasn't exactly welcome at home anymore, I still, mostly, respected my mother.

“We train cats as guards. Many of us, anyway. The elder is usually bound to a cat. That close communication ability helps that cat organize the rest. They keep rats and mice out of our stores, too. Most ara’v’els have at least three.” I fiddled with a bone left over from my meal. “And any decent Dalish does believe the same as our clan does. But Dalish are people. Some clans are no better than pirates and take without concern. Which is why we don't dare approach openly. More are like La’v’el’lan. We try to be unseen unless we need to trade. Secret is safer. It’s better if the shem don’t know where we are.”

‘I should not have spoken so cruelly to you. You are correct. I don’t know you or what you’ve lost. And, the first night, I didn’t word myself well. I was trying to communicate that I would respect the privacy of your mind, and not try to invade. I shouldn’t have spoken until I was fully conscious.”

“You must have a fever if you’re apologizing to me.”

‘That hatred will eat you alive if you keep feeding it. I speak from experience.’

I rolled my eyes from where I sat with my back against a water worn curve of the limestone “Hate is all that keeps me moving through life.”

He snorted down his long, stupidly elegant nose.

“What does it matter, anyway? This war will finally end me, one way or another. I’m barely a fledgling regarding magic. And I somehow have to find a way to kill three mages with massive god complexes who see nothing wrong with using people.”

‘Four. M'y'th'al is still in play. Weaker, but her desire for vengeance has corrupted her completely.’

“Lovely. That’s just another load of halla shit to clean up, isn’t it?”

His stupidly pretty eyes were even prettier with mirth dancing through them.

‘I shall fondly remember my mother, witch that she is, being compared to a steaming load of deer shit.’

Involuntarily, the corner of my mouth shot up. No. Absolutely not. I refused to find him funny.

“If you can teach me to heal, a little, I can work on you once the healer or ha’rhen has helped me. Something is better than nothing.”

He tilted his head suspiciously.

“Look, asshole. I’m trying. My sister loves you and has no intention of breaking your bonds. I may not be able to stand you, but she very obviously thinks differently. She’s… glowy and shit. With happiness.” My voice dropped sadly. “I’ve never seen her so happy. And Lahn has a subtle joy about him I’ve never seen. I love them even if you make me want to drop you from a cliff.”

Solas just watched me suspiciously.

I sighed. “It’s not going to be enjoyable for me either, you know. They’ll try to entice me to stay. I’ll be courted by anyone interested while we travel with them. We’ll have to stay long enough to help them in return for the help they gave us.”

‘Not ideal, but reasonable.’

“Could I learn the mind to mind talking thing? It would be useful with what we’re walking into.”

‘Possibly. Not all El’vhen had the ability. Sule’din does though, so it’s very possible you do as well. You have the same parents?’

“You don’t even know that? Yes. All of us have the same parents. Sule’din and her twin are the eldest. I was the last born surprise child. Mamae thought she’d passed childbearing years. There are five of us, in total. We also have another sister, and another brother. What were your real reasons?”

He grumbled a bit in his throat. ‘When I first woke… I approached a Dalish clan, pine green sails. Not far outside of the borders of Orlais and Ferelden. I tried to tell them the truth about the ev’an’u’ris. They stoned me. And… once I’d left Sule’din behind me… anything Dalish reminded me of her and I avoided the extra pain that would have given me.’

“An Elf – El’vhen, whatever, who looks like all the ancient statues walks into a camp, bigger, taller, and wider than any Elf born in this age, moving the way you do, and tries to tell them everything our entire culture believed was wrong? If I hadn’t felt their malevolence first hand, I wouldn’t have believed you either. They suspected you to be who you are. The Dread Wolf. ‘For he comes in humble guises’. You’ve got a rep, Solas. That’s why they stoned you.”

‘Is how I move so different?’

“You move like someone who has had to fight, in every way possible, for a very long time. You give off an aura of danger. So yes, that matters. Dalish are frequently the target of hunters. Slavers. Even if they hadn’t considered it likely you’re the Dread Wolf, they would’ve made you leave suspecting you were one of them. We’ve had to learn to be extremely wary.”

‘Why will they try to court you?’

I shot him a look. “The scars make me ugly, Solas. But I’m a young, non-binary Dalish capable of bearing young. From a clan far to the south. My bloodline will be very different. They’ll likely try to match me with several el’vhen’lin in their prime. Hoping I’ll stay and make less inbred babies for them. I’ll have to appear to at least consider it. Or tell them what my path is, and possibly get us both stoned.” I fiddled with a leftover rawhide lace. “Having offspring. It’s considered Las Halam’sh’ir. Part of our duty to our people. You’ll be dealing with pretending to be a dog. I’ll be dealing with them trying their hardest to harness me to a life of childbirth and babies. Something that makes my skin crawl. I don’t even like children. It won’t be pleasant for either of us.”

‘Your scars don’t make you ugly. They tell your story. Anything ugly you carry is inside you.’

“Gee, thanks. You fucking dick. Do you insult me on purpose? Or is it more of an inborn gift?”

‘Does anything not insult you? The Dalish experience inbreeding?’

I shrugged one shoulder. “We’re an insular people. We do take in outsiders occasionally. But they have to actually live by our ways. Which isn’t easy for city elves. We have completely different cultures, belief systems, ways of travelling through life. Each Dalish has their own Ara’v’as. It’s like… the path we choose to walk, or are required to. It’s both physical and spiritual. Few city elves wish to learn a completely different way of being, moving through the world. Few have the strength to commit to Var’l’and’i’v’a’l’i’s (protection of our beliefs) and Vir’Tan’adahl (the Way of the Three Trees), or any of the other paths. So it’s not simply that outsiders are generally unwelcome, it’s also that most city elves find themselves hating the way we live and go back to the city. So, yes. The Dalish experience inbreeding. I’ll be using a different name as well. La’v’el’lan is too well known. I’ll use M'e'r'ri'll’s old clan, Sa'b'r'a'e. I know enough about them to fake it.”

‘Is it too personal to ask what path you walk? That concept is one from ancient Ar’lath’an.’

I looked away. But what did it really matter? He wasn’t Dalish and probably didn’t care enough about me to judge me. “I always thought I’d walk the Vir Dir'th’ara. Knowledge seeker and history keeper.” I gestured at my face and Dir'th’am’en’s vallas’lin. “Life had other plans. I walk the Din'nan shi’r’a’l in’banal’ras.”

‘Journey of death and vengeance in shadow? They were assassins in my time.’

I tilted my head. “It’s more about swearing you’ll walk a path of vengeance to the death, now. Though I’m certainly not above assassination in pursuit of it.” I fiddled with the lace in my hands. “By choosing that path, I am am’tel’a’el’vhen. One who doesn’t protect the people and our places. I’m not outcast, really, so much as I couldn’t go home permanently or honestly join another clan until I renounce that path. Which is something I’m unlikely to ever do. I’ll always be Dalish, but banal’ghil’an’a (led astray), set to the side of my people. Because I’ve chosen something that is more important to me than furthering our survival and our dedication to discovery and preservation.”

‘They forswore homes in my time, as well.’

The corner of my mouth lifted. “I guess we got some things right.”

‘Possibly a lot of things. I couldn’t say. We should sleep. I’ll scout the camp in the dreaming to see if they have a somni’a’r’i.’

“Do Sule’din and Lahn know we’re alive?”

‘I slept without dreaming the first night. But I dream visited them last night at Sule’din’s sanctuary. They know our condition. They want to come get us, but it’s a four day hike to the el’u’vi’an we used. By the time they could get here, we’ll likely be back at the Lighthouse.’

“That entirely depends on how much help the Dalish give us. We need to repay it in full.”

‘Would it be better to call them?’

I shook my head. “If the scouts don’t already know we’re here, they would by then, and they might not be as friendly as if we approached openly, seeking aid.”

Solas sighed. ‘I had truly hoped to avoid the Dalish.’

I snorted, then winced. “You bonded with a Dalish Asha, Solas. (Woman) That means you bonded her Clan and the entirety of the Dalish people to some extent. That’s how it works for us. We have a duty to care for each other. Because no one else will. Las halam’sh’ir. Family unit first, then clan, then our people as a whole. If you truly want to be accepted—which, given the fact all Elves are immortal now, you might want to—you would be wise to learn our ways and follow them.”

‘Sleep. I shall think on your words. Once someone has stoned you, it’s incredibly difficult to expose yourself to them again.’

“At least you’ll have a doggie disguise, this time.”

We got out to see to our needs. Then, once we were inside, I tossed some more green wood on the fire to continue smoking the hides overnight. After that, we settled in an uncomfortable silence where we both lay awake. Stuck in the morass of our own thoughts. Finally, sleep decided to function correctly and I drifted off.

Chapter Text

ROOK

My head ached, along with everything else, and I was in a foul mood as I laboriously changed how Solas looked two days later.

“Why the ever fucking fuck is this so hard? Aren’t I supposed to be a mage now?”

‘All mages take years to truly build stamina and skill. You’re actually doing better than most new to magic.’

I suspiciously turned the statement over in my head, looking for mockery. Finding none, I bit my tongue and continued coaxing his silky coat to grow a bit longer so it would cover his side wound.

I sighed heavily. “I think that will do it. Just don’t go swimming. Not that you should with a wound like that, anyway.” I sat back and surveyed the pure black, now slightly shaggy, purple eyed wolf. “You still look like a wolf.”

He sighed and cast me a look that basically screamed, ‘Because I am one?’

“Okay. Okay. Let me think. What kinds of markings do wild wolves have?”

‘A saddle of darker fur on the back is common. Darker ears, sometimes a sock.’

“I’ll try to avoid those.” I rubbed my eyes. They ached. “Except the sock. I’ve seen Mabari with those, so it’s probably a common enough dog trait.” I slowly and painfully coaxed his back left foot to have white toes. And gave him a long white sock on one of his front legs.

I sat back and grimaced. “Couldn’t you have picked something less ‘wolfie’ when you picked your shapes?”

‘To be fair, I like wolves a lot, and I never thought I’d have to look like a dog. M'y'th'al hated it.’

I started slowly brushing my fingers through his fluffy chest fur. It felt far too personal, but the only way I could do this was by touch. I wasn’t even close to able to do it at a distance yet. White followed the paths of my fingers and I kept at it until his chest and half his underside were white. No way was I going lower than where his waist would be in El’vhen form.

“Stretch your tail out?”

He obliged.

Being careful to not contact or even look at his backside, I turned the bottom of his tail white. I sat back and groaned. “Maybe we should try the coast route.”

‘That will take us very close to Minrathous.’

“Well. Fuck that, then. I’ll die before I’m enslaved again.” I rubbed my temples as I sat trying to think of other areas I could change. Grimacing a little, I ran my fingers over his incredibly silky ear and in an oblong circle around it. I left a spot of black on the back.

“Chin up?”

He pointed his very wolfie nose at the ceiling of the cave. I stroked from his bottom lip to mid throat, giving him a splash of white that almost, but not quite merged with the one on his chest.

I made a face. “We’re both going to be stoned.”

He tilted his head in a ‘really?’ expression.

I huffed a sigh and got back to work. It caused him discomfort to do this, too. I gently stroked my fingers in a circle around one of his eyes, giving him a large white spot. Then I turned half his whiskers white. I added a pink splash to his dry nose.

I breathed a sigh of relief as I sat back that time. He still looked like he’d descended from wolves, but now he could pass as a different kind of courser. Most I’d seen were sleeker, but he had the general shape of one. The colour blotches had given him a much more doggish appearance.

“Can you change your eyes at all?”

He blinked, and they were a glowing metallic silver-white.

I shook my head, that definitely wouldn’t work.

He blinked again, and they were black. Pure black from side to side.

I groaned and he shifted them back to purple. I lay down on my side. Absolutely exhausted. “Why don’t you have any pupils? You’re weird.”

‘I see better with this style of eye when I’m shifted.’

I just breathed quietly with my arm over my face for a few moments. Trying to find the strength to continue. We needed to get moving. My fatigue was a big part of this charade and it was past mid-afternoon.

“I’ll try to be fast because I can’t imagine this isn’t going to hurt.”

I got myself settled in front of him and gently covered his eyes with my palms. He didn’t make a sound, but he tensed. When it was done, he had average looking brown dog eyes with a white sclera. I hadn’t truly changed his eyes. But the surface looked different now and the 'pupils' would respond to light levels. It wasn’t an illusion. An Elder or First would scan us for those before even letting us into camp. But he’d still be able to see the way he was used to.

I frowned and slid my finger over the lashes on one eye, turning them white. Then turned the lashes on the white spotted eye black. Sliding my fingers cautiously,  I turned the inside of his black ear pink. I groaned, then turned the inside of the other pink. I changed some of his toes to pink, some to pink grey, and some to half and half. Then mottled a couple of his claws.

“This is gonna suck. For both of us. Smile.”

‘Smile?’

“Bare your teeth, or whatever, growl at me. I bet your gums and tongue are as black as the rest of you.”

He pulled his lips back and sure enough, black gums and probably the rest of his mouth.

Using just a fingertip, I made pink splotches appear frequently enough to disguise the black.

“Tongue.”

He stuck it out. Black.

I wrinkled my nose. I didn’t want to touch his tongue. He’d taste me. Ew. I considered the Minrathous path again. We couldn’t go the other way because of the cliffs. They ran far out to sea.

He rolled his weird regular dog eyes at me and I huffed before getting over myself. Odd that I preferred his normal eyes, in any colour. He just looked wrong.

I turned most of his tongue pink. Leaving just a spot to the side black. “We never speak of this to anyone.”

He snorted.

I sat back. Oh, thank a good breeze on a humid day. He was done. He still looked wolfie, but the colour changes had helped a lot. “That will have to do. I don’t care what colour your dick is. I’m not going there. Just don’t flash it at anyone because I’m pretty sure regular dog dick is probably pink. Or pinkish.”

‘I don’t make it a practice to ‘flash my dick’ at anyone.’

“Tell Sule’din that.”

Solas dropped his gaze to his paws.

“Oh come on, really? You guys never— no, no, never mind. I do not want to know. Forget I had a momentary brain lapse of curiosity. I really don’t want to know.” I gently stretched my back, then grabbed my arm. “By my Mamae’s hearthcakes. Really?” I pressed my arm across my chest until the joint popped more comfortably into place.

‘Really.’

“Asshole. I said I didn’t want to know. But why the hell not? You were together for years in the Inquisition.”

‘She didn’t know who I truly was. I would never trespass is such a way.’ He pointed his nose at my shoulder. ‘Injury from the fall?’

I shook my aching head, then regretted it. “From yanking my arm to get it out of the manacle to get to…” I pressed my lips together. “I think something might’ve broken slightly when I escaped. It hasn’t been right since.”

‘This must cause you pain when using a bow?’

I snorted then winced at the pain in my side. “Yup. But what’s more pain?”

‘Unnecessary, da’len. You know I’m a healer. Once we’re safe—’

“Not a child, asshat.”

He shook his head and looked away. His voice was slightly mournful and lost. ‘Sometimes, many Elves feel young to me. So passionate and free. If you object, I shall be certain to not trespass so again.’

I reached out and grabbed the collar I’d worked on long into the night. Dark circles under my eyes would only help our story. I slid it over my palms. Pride filled me. I’d never considered apprenticing to a crafter, just learning what every Dalish kid did. But it had come out beautifully. I’d burnished the smoked rabbit hide until it gleamed. I turned back to Solas. Who huffed as if this were the absolute worst part of this whole thing.

“Don’t be a baby.”

To lace the collar in place, I had to get closer to his face than I wanted to, but fuck it. He’d probably already seen my tits, anyway. Ugh. Don’t think about that. Instead of making the shirt I’d planned, I’d made a bag and Solas’s collar. Then torn a few more strategic holes in my ragged shirt. One of those was right where his nose pointed at.

‘My eyes are closed. If it concerns you.’

I frowned. I wanted to snap at him for being considerate. Which was so immature even I couldn’t excuse it. Razzing him and my sister for being affectionate around me was one thing. Being a bitch because Solas was being nice, nah. That wasn’t okay.

I looked him over again. “I hope it’s enough. I don’t want to return you to Sule’din full of arrows.” I groaned as I stood up. Ow. I snagged the leather gathering sack I’d made to carry the jerky I’d made. It would have been one of the first things any lone Dalish would make. I surveyed the cave. I had both rabbit and fish jerky. I’d burnt the plant materials except a few thick twists I’d made with the dry leaves and cattail fuzz. Firestarters would also be a common thing for a refugee to make and carry.

The morning after we’d decided on this plan, I’d regretfully buried my armour, my weapons belt, and my pouches, including my survival pouch, in the deep silt at the back of the cave. An escaped enslaved person wouldn’t have any of that. I’d kept a small, beat up cloth pouch with a few bits in it. Anything that would make my story believable. I had my curved needle and ball of thread. I’d used up my ointment, so that wasn’t a worry. I hadn’t been able to leave my knives. I just couldn’t make myself do it. But maybe it wasn’t too far fetched that I’d stolen some.

I’d flattened the area and made sure to walk on it as much as reasonable to hide the evidence. I’d let the fire burn all the way down to nothing but charcoal, and left the long ditches I’d made as beds. They’d check my story. I grabbed the left over laces from attaching Solas’s collar and shoved them in my bag. I’d already broken down and burnt everything but one stretcher I’d used to make leather. The burnished rib was in my sack. No Dalish would leave that. It took forever to break in a new rib bone.

“Can you see or smell anything I’ve missed? I’m exhausted. It has to look like an escapee stayed here. Not a stranded fighter.”

Solas grunted as he stood. But he walked around the cave, checking to make sure I hadn’t missed anything. ‘I can’t find anything you missed. And I can’t get a whiff of your armour either.’

My shoulders slumped. “Okay. Let’s go.” I left the cave behind and snagged several large fish from the trap before letting the others go. Dinner, in case we weren’t found that day. And a gift of food wasn’t ever wrong. I broke the trap down and piled the sticks neatly on the shore. I dug in my bag and used some laces to tie the fish together before hanging them from my shoulder. “Ew. I miss my belt already. Now I’m gonna smell like fish.”

Solas limped up behind me, still heavily favouring his injured side.

I swallowed. Hoping that I hadn’t forgotten anything. And really, really hoping these were decent people and not bandits. Then, with my head pounding, my eyes aching, fatigue weighing me down and everything hurting, I stepped out, heading south, upriver.

Solas limped along behind me.

Chapter Text

ROOK

Dusk encroached, and my shoulders slumped. Looks like we’d be camping. I’d hoped to reach—

“Desen! Vir’an se lan’aan?” (Hold, who are you?)

“Su’lan. Sit.”

Solas sat down next to me and it was far harder than it should’ve been to repress a smirk. I held up my hands. “Ir Ri’ris Sa'b'r'a'e. Atish’all v’all’em. Mana, ma ha’lan’i? Ara’rev? Ir’rev? Ir’rahn?" (I am Ri'ris Sa'b'r'a'e. I peacefully enter path. Help me? I am old blood. Is here free? Am I free? Am I away?)

I swallowed. I could feel the knocked bows and drawn arrows all around us.

‘When I flinch. Growl.’

A healthy, solidly built el’vhen’lin, probably in his late twenties, dropped from a tree almost directly overhead. A common scare tactic to knock strangers off their guard.

I cowered back, my arm raised over my face. I yelped and huddled down next to Solas. Who obligingly growled.

The el’vhen’lin stepped back. “Mala eth, da’len. Mala rev. Mala’rahn. (You’re safe, little one. You’re free. You’re away.)

I hugged Solas tightly around the neck. “Shh. Su’lan.”

Solas tilted his head enough to lick my cheek and gave a small tail wag. But kept his gaze on the elves.

‘Ew. Wolf slobber.’

‘You told me to think the role.’ Amusement danced under his tired voice and I wanted to kick him.

“Mana? There was a battle. To free the enslaved, I think? I… I got away. Something cut me, somehow. Then we fell down a cliff.”

“Ris’ame? Run back and let them know. The rest of you, continue on.” (Light protector.)

Scout-leader.

“Ir El’and’r’in Oranevra. En’a’gar’as?" (I’m El’and’r’in Oranevra. Will you come?)

Hesitantly, I stood up. That move had really fucking hurt. I wrapped my arm around my waist. And I absolutely wasn’t faking it. “Su’lan, gar’as.” (Su’lan, come.)

We followed the broad shouldered el’vhen’lin through a roundabout path and several guard posts to the main entrance of camp. Just past the guards stood the Keeper, a tall, older el’vhen’lan with braided silver hair. Next to her stood her First, a youth with a resemblance to the Keeper. I’d never noticed it before, but the tingle of magic washed over us both. Thanks to Shay, I could even tell it looked for illusions and offensive magics.

“Welcome to Oranevra, da’len. I am Keeper Oranevra.” She placed a hand on the youth’s shoulder. “My son, J'o's'ma'el. Our healer waits to see you. Once you are healed, you will eat and rest. This is your animal?”

I looked down at Solas. “I… yes? I mean, Master’s? And Master is dead. But I take care of him. Master didn’t even bother to name the animals, just ‘dog’ or ‘cat’. He followed me. When we fell, I landed on him. Nothing is broken, but he’s…”

I passed a hand over my eyes. “Forgiveness, Keeper. Ir souver (I am weary). Yes. I take responsibility for him.”

“Tel’enfenim, da’len. (never fear/no fear, little one.) And’ar’an atish’an." (Enter this place in peace.)

“M’in'atish’all v’all’an. (I enter this place in peace.) Ma seranna, Keeper Oranevra.”

They turned and led us into the camp. I smiled at El’and’r’in. “Ma seranna.” He nodded his head before turning and going back the way we’d come.

I’d been super careful to not tell any bald faced lies. Solas had told me of the existence of truth sniffing spells. Anything that hadn’t been an actual truth, I’d posed as a question. Some of those truths were almost a decade old, from when I’d been enslaved, and they were true nonetheless. Solas limped along behind me while I discreetly surveyed the camp. The ara’v’els were in excellent repair and the azure sails in good condition. The snorts and grunts of halla sounded from a distance, and it made my throat choke up.

The Keeper led us to an ara’v’el in the middle circle of the camp. “We’ve brought her, A'sh'all'e.”

“Them, please? Keeper.”

She nodded. “Of course.”

An absolutely ancient el’vhen’lan strode down the ramp of her ara’v’el. She ran her gaze over both me and Solas, then turned her attention to the Keeper and First. "G'i'sh'ar'el's ara’v’el?"

“I’ve sent my second to ready it.”

“'Ma’nuven’in, Keeper.” (As you wish.) 

The healer had beautiful soft skin wrinkled with a thousand tales, her hands were worn with work, and still strong. Her hair had turned a platinum grey with age, and she had kind eyes. “Gar’as, da’len. Your dog can come.”

She led me up into the spacious ara’v’el. It was even large enough that it had a bathing nook. A hot bath dressed with healing herbs waited.

I lifted the fish off my shoulder and held them up. “I caught these this afternoon.” I held them out to the healer with a quizzical expression. 

She smiled kindly and took them. “I’ll see to storing these while you undress and bathe. Would you like privacy?”

I shook my head. She should get a good look at my scars. “We never had privacy.”

She bobbed her chin and took the fish out.

‘Want me to scrub you after?‘

‘Nae. I crave food and sleep. Baths can wait.’

‘You could nap here. Just maybe curl up next to the tub, or near it, like you’re guarding me.’

I knelt down, painfully, and emptied my bag by dumping the few items in it onto the floor. The healer came back in and sat down in a rocking chair, where she picked up a narrow loom and continued weaving.

I sorted out the rabbit jerky and gave the pieces to Solas. I could eat the fish, which he didn’t seem to care for.

“Gracious, we will happily feed you both.”

I rounded my shoulders, like I was afraid I’d done something wrong. “I am sorry, Healer. His stomach was growling.” Completely true. I could hear his stomach from there.

“It has been some time since you were with your people?”

I grimaced as I eased out of my shirt and support top. Ow. Solas settled down and started chewing on the jerky. He held it between his paws just like dogs did. He wasn’t half bad at this acting thing. I stared off into the distance for a moment. A little stunned that I didn’t have to word my response a little creatively. “Years,” I whispered. “It’s been eight years.”

I dropped the rag of my shirt and stood, groaning, to shuck out of my pants. Her lanterns were brighter than the campfire and I looked up and down my body. Taking in the scrapes and bruises. “We camped. For… three days? Four? I made a bag, and caught some food. But the campfire wasn’t very bright.” I twisted to look at my side wound. It had scabbed over. As long as I didn’t linger too long, I should be okay. Fatigue made my vision wobbly and my head was absolutely pounding. I stepped into the fragrant water. “Hot water! Ma seranna. They never let us have heat.”

I settled into the hip tub and used the provided materials to wash what felt like a year’s worth of grime from myself. I looked over at Solas and either he’d taken my advice and was napping, or he was faking it again. Sneaky wolf.

“Does he have a name?”

“I named him Su’lan. I never told anyone but him.” I looked down into the water.

I inhaled the scented steam for a few moments and then got out. I used the soft, halla wool drying cloth and then walked toward the healer.

“Lay down on the bunk and let me see what we’re dealing with.”

I did as she asked.

She hmmed and frowned over me for a few moments. “You did your own stitches?"

“Su’lan couldn’t do it. Did I mess it up badly?”

“Nae, child. Simple curiosity. Not your first time stitching someone up?”

I shook my head. “I’ve had to stitch Su’lan.”

“Some people shouldn’t ever be allowed around animals.”

“Master is dead now. He can’t hurt anyone, anymore.”

“How did this wound happen?”

“There was a battle. And a big metal machine thing with a long sword. The tip of the sword cut me, I think? Everything happened so fast. Then Su’lan and I fell. I checked him, nothing is broken. But he must be bruised.”

“Poor pup. Our Halla keeper may have some ideas on how to help. My gifts only work on us.”

“We’ve both healed worse.” Sule’din couldn’t ever shut up about the Inquisition’s adventures. And Solas always had a starring role. He’d definitely healed worse.

“Rest your eyes, da’len. While I see to some of this damage. I can’t do it all at once or you’ll be even thinner than you already are. But I should be able to seal that cut and reduce your pain.”

I closed my eyes and paid attention to what it felt like when she healed me. I figured out how to seal cuts and block pain just by paying attention.

The tugging at my waist didn’t feel like anything as she pulled out the stitches. My pain grew much easier to bear.

“There. You can sit up.”

She passed me a tray of food.

“Hearthcakes! And halla curd.” I bent my head and blinked my eyes quickly. I didn’t even have to fake the sheen of tears. Both were some of my favourite Dalish foods. I tried to eat like I wasn’t a complete heathen. But I let my hunger be obvious.

“Halla curd and venison jerky, for your pup.” She handed me a bowl when she took the empty tray, and I went over to kneel in front of Solas. ‘Are you actually asleep?’

‘No’

‘Didn’t think so. Act like you were though, okay?’

‘Are you sure? I thought maybe I’d get up on my hind legs and dance.’

‘Asshole.’

I leaned down and kissed Solas between the ears. Ew. Then petted his head gently until he opened his eyes and yawned a huge canid yawn right in my face. I leaned back. ‘Ew. Wolf breath. Don’t pretend you didn’t enjoy that.’

‘Would I do such a thing?’

I set the bowl down in front of him and said ‘dinner’ in Tevene.

‘That means—’

‘I speak Tevene better than you do.’

‘Fine. Dick.’

Once Solas had, ha ha, wolfed down his food and licked the bowl clean, the healer passed me a sleeveless sleep shirt. I petted the soft as velvet halla wool with a fond smile. “It’s been so long since I felt it. Ma seranna.”

“Everything else can wait until you two get some rest. We have a free ara’v’el. We lost an elder recently, he would’ve been thrilled for you to have it. If you’d feed his cats? There’s always cat food by the central fire.”

Yup. Just as I’d suspected. Already setting me up as a new clan member. Most of the time, guests bedded down outside. And I’d caught that ‘have’. I nodded anyway, ignoring the polite, curious looks from the Oronevra Elves.

The healer smiled and gestured at a neatly tended, large ara’v’el and I bowed to the healer with my hands over my chest. “Ma seranna.”

I went inside and down to the bedroom. We’d visited the latrine on the way over. I surveyed the preparations with a wry grimace.

‘I can clearly see you were correct. Somehow, I think pretending to be a dog may be easier.’

The room had been freshly tidied. The large bed had had the feather ticks fluffed over the straw under mattress. Freshly line dried bedding in golds and reds were neatly arranged. On the built in table next to the bed sat a beautifully crafted wooden vase. It overflowed with cascading purple blooms that filled the air with a pleasant, soothing scent. A water pitcher dripped cold water onto a tray, I poured a glass, guzzled it, refilled, then put the jug itself down for Solas. The fat, round pot still had plenty in it.

Then, it was like the last of my energy flowed out of me. I sat down on the bed without really meaning to. “Okay. I think I’m about to pass out now.”

I cocked a brow at Solas, laying on the floor. ‘What do you think you’re doing?’

‘Getting ready to sleep? One should think that obvious.’

‘No, one should think someone as smart as you’re supposed to be would know that sleeping on the bed is far better for you.’

‘I do not presume to—’

‘Oh for the love of…’ “Su’lan. Up. Come on, boy.” I patted the bed.

He gave me a look, but climbed painfully to his feet, then onto the bed. I rested two fingers on his side and closed my eyes. I laboriously put a pain block in place for him. Hopefully he’d sleep better. He settled, then sighed deeply. ‘Ma seranna.’

I blew out the lantern and snuggled down into the clean bedding. Sleep thumped me over the head and dragged me away.

Chapter Text

SULE’DIN

I stood in Solas's studio in my sanctuary and used my abilities to tidy it. I added a few more things. A plate of small, sweet oranges. Several potted orange trees that would stay perpetually in bloom to scent the area, and a bouquet of flowers in a wooden vase. I also added another table for whatever mess Solas needed to scatter there.

Joy filled me when he came up behind me and wrapped his arms around my shoulders. The strength of him surrounding me made me close my eyes and lean back against him. I felt so incredibly tiny next to him.

“I was hoping you’d be able to come.”

He bent his head and inhaled the scent of my hair. “It’s been a couple of difficult days getting ready to enact our plan.”

“Plan? Wait. No. Let’s get settled first. Lahn’s across the hall fiddling with something.”

Solas tightened his arms for a moment and sighed in complete contentment. “Ar lath ma, Vhen’an.”

I smiled. “Ar lath ma, Solas. For so long.” I interlaced my fingers through his and took him to fetch Lahn, then got us settled on the chaises surrounding a low table full of refreshments on the open patio. Where you could see a lot of my garden.

Once we were all settled, and Solas curled around me like a big cat, I said, “What’s the situation?”

He told us about the last couple of days.

“You’re where? In the middle of a…” my tone carried every bit of horror I felt.

My mouth dropped open as I turned enough to stare up at a reclining Solas. Lahn had sat up in concern. Rainbow Fade-light drifted through the dome that shaded the patio. Solas looked marginally better than the last time he'd been able to visit.

“Have you perhaps lost any self-preservation instinct at all? Not just one Dalish camp, but four? This was Rook's idea, wasn’t it?”

“Their logic was sound.”

“Except for the fact that the Dalish believe extremely untrue and very dangerous things about you, Solas! How?”

“Rook changed the way I look. I’m afraid I probably look like a spotted druffalo.”

“Rook voluntarily used magic?”

Solas just shrugged, then nodded. “Shay has been teaching them. Rook has a gift for it. If they’d stop fighting themself, it would come easier for them.”

I winced. “I hope you didn’t actually say that to them.”

Solas snorted. “I’m not good with either emotions or people, but I do actually have some self-preservation instinct. I don’t need a stab wound to go with everything else.”

“What in the world is your plan? The Dalish helped you, meaning you need to help them.”

“We haven’t gotten that far yet. But we’ve made a start by bringing food in with us.”

“Wise.”

“Rook said they’ll court them, trying to entice them to stay. I gather most guests aren’t given an entire ara’v’el and three resident cats?”

I snorted. “No. We make sure guests are comfortable, of course, but usually in tents and on pallets outside near a fire. Here’s hoping Rook can keep their temper.”

“The flowers someone left in the land-ship are quite pretty.” The corner of his mouth lifted. “You still use the same magic to make them float as we did.”

“I was worried before, Vhen’an. This news makes me worry more.”

He caught my hand in his and kissed the back. “Given the circumstances, I think we’re doing well. We’ll stay long enough to heal for the rest of the journey, and to repay their hospitality. We’re currently both asleep in a large, soft bed, in the comforting darkness of the ship.” He looked away and blushed.

He slid his fingers along the inside of my wrist. “I have done all of us a disservice by not learning about your people, Sule’din. I will do better. The ara’v’els I’ve seen so far are beautifully crafted and cozy. Do you miss the halla? It’s interesting to hear them again.”

I smiled sadly. “I miss a lot of things. Sometimes, when things got too hectic, I almost wished I'd had my own ara’v’el and could join my Clan for the summers. Just to be… Dalish, I guess.”

“You never mentioned that before, love.” Lahn had relaxed and sat sketching out another woodworking project.

“Summer is when the vast majority of petitioners to the Well come. It felt incredibly selfish to want to do that.” I shrugged.

Lahn leaned across to gather my other hand. “We may not be able to do it every year, but you could travel with your clan every so often. Perhaps even to the Ar’lath’vhen? Then more Dalish could petition the Well. We don’t get as many Dalish at the temple as I might’ve suspected.”

My eyebrows rose. “You’d both live in an ara’v’el with me? That’s always seemed a lot to ask.”

Lahn smiled. “Nae. We used them too, in our time. Any time we needed to travel we’d have a few ara’v’els to sleep in. It would likely be a nostalgic experience for us both.”

“We’d need an ara’v’el, and halla, some cats…”

Solas smiled fondly. “I’m certain those are achievable goals, Vhen’an. I would like a large ara’v’el though. I’ve decided I’m far too ancient to sleep on the ground in a cave.”

I snort-giggled and clapped my hand over my mouth. “Are you saying you’re spoiled?”

“Certainly desirous of more comfort than the last few days of unpleasantness.”

I turned to nuzzle into his neck. “I never asked before. But how did you take all of this,” I lovingly ran my hand over his chest and wide shoulders, “and make yourself look so much smaller? The first time I saw you as you actually are, in the memories, I was shocked. You’re taller and much bigger, physically, than I ever thought.”

“Acting. I cannot change myself physically without someone willing to act as a suppressor for the power rejection. I had no one when I first woke. Fel was gone. And the world had changed so much. Once I’d seen Elves, I started making changes to how I held myself, moved, what I spoke about, everything.”

Lahn smiled secretively. "Ar’lath’an opera house. The three summers before the first war. You can watch him play a few roles.”

“Oh, really?”

Solas blushed. Pink highlighting his cheeks and the tips of his ears. “Hardly my best performances. But yes, I’ve always studied acting. It started as necessity. And became something I actually enjoyed doing. Being able to be someone else for a time… it was invaluable to me.”

I squeezed his hand. “Dorian, Bull, and Varric are aware of what happened. Quite relieved, too. I think, if you’re fine with it, Lahn and I will take Bel'la'r'a and do what we can to aid recovery efforts. I’ll see if Shay wants to come, too. They’ve mostly had their nose in a book.”

“It was always one of their favourite places to be. If you try to bring anyone but Bull, Dorian, and Varric or someone who lives there, like Bel'la'r'a, back to the Lighthouse, stay in physical contact with them. Otherwise they’ll combust. You and Lahn have as much control over the Lighthouse as I do. If you want to make the protection permanent until you remove it, have them on the Lighthouse grounds, and say, “La'dar'eth in'el’l’as’in el’la’vir’re'vas ma'en’a’desen'atish in'ma'vhen. Ir'en’a dar'eth el'in'fen'eth'an.” (To be safe within the entrance to inside, the path to freedom, I will hold peace within my heart. I will be safe within the wolf safe place.) “Just warn them they’ll need peaceful intentions to anyone the Lighthouse shelters or the Vir’re’vas will turn them to charcoal.” Solas gestured and a curled piece of paper appeared with the words inked onto it in his flowing hand.

Cole popped in. Sitting on one of the chaises with his arms wrapped around his legs. “Adra’ha’fen.” (Honoured Old Wolf).

“Compassion.” Solas nodded his head. “What brings you to see us, Cole?”

“L’in’dir’an’a’e hurts. Soft, sweet pain, skinned knees, callused hands. Long locked doors open, pain inside on outside. Runs fast. Pain won't catch. Sight, scent, sound, soft hurt. Longing. Need. Lost. Darkness calls. Alone walk.”

Solas raised a brow, confused. Which was funny, in a way. He could usually understand Cole better than anyone.

“Rook remembering their childhood and it hurts?”

Cole nodded.

Solas looked at me, confusion still shining in his eyes.

“Rook is a nickname. Their birth name is L’in’dir’an’a’e. Sounds like they’re homesick.”

Cole bobbed his head, flopping the brim of his hat. “Darkness crumbs, scattered, step, crunch. Path twists. Freedom lost. Committed. Fen help? Sad cold song splits Tyranny.”

That, I didn’t understand. But Solas tensed until he had the consistency of stone. He’d obviously gotten that one.

“Thank you, Cole. I will help.”

“Ha’fen help. Good.”

Then Cole poofed away.

“You know? It used to bother me when he did that.”

Lahn snorted.

Solas’s chest rumbled with a chuckle. “Spirits come and go as they will, Vhen’an. When unbound to a body.”

“Actually, what happened to his? He’s been in the Fade, as far as I know, for at least a decade.”

“Since you disbanded the Inquisition, Cole has been my constant companion. Leaving only for brief times. He visits Varric, and you. But Cole is a unique case. Most spirits would require either a sacred lyrium shell or a host being to functionally exist in the real. Cole is still a powerful spirit of Compassion. He had enough personality that when he slipped through the veil to comfort a dying child, he was able to maintain his self. A Compassion spirit wouldn’t usually stay in a location—much less such a horrible place as the bowels of the White Spire—once whoever they had comforted had passed or moved on. It’s just an educated guess, but I believe Cole stayed to offer a compassionate end to Templar victims. He took on the semblance of the boy, and crafted himself a body from the ambient or stored lyrium in the dungeons.”

Solas played with my hair, his hands gentle and loving. “Some particularly strong spirits did that to become e’v’an’u’ris. They weren’t all born from another’s meddling. J'u'ne crafted himself. But I’d thought it nigh impossible. The knowledge lost. I’d never thought to see it again. Then I met Cole and eventually learned his story. Whenever he goes back to the real—since he already knows how—he can make a body at will. As long as there is enough raw lyrium around.”

Solas huffed sadly. “Corporeal beings often accuse spirit beings of having no emotions, no memory. Perhaps they should meet one like Cole. He’s even formed his spirit self to look like that long lost mage-child. And every time he makes a body, he keeps the way it looks. Although he could choose to make it look like anything.”

“Spirits honour those they cared for differently. But no less beautifully. I hope corporeal people see the beauty of most of spirit-kind faster than not.”

“I do as well.”

Lahn nodded quietly beside us.

Chapter Text

ROOK

It amazed me, what two days of rest, good food, the sounds of home, and a talented healer’s skills could do. I still ached, but the wound in my side was gone, as well as a large portion of the bruises.

I needed clothing and new armour so the third morning, I went toward the Master Crafter’s wagon. Solas walked sluggishly behind me. I’d worked on healing him as best I could, but I wasn’t very good at it, it took me a lot of time, and exhausted me.

A young el'vhen'lin had visited and left a pot of rather unpleasantly scented balm to rub into Solas's sore muscles and bruises. But I’d barely opened it before he’d growled and let me know in no uncertain terms I would not be spreading that on him.

I was still sore, but if I could borrow a bow, I might be able to bring some meat in. I could use the hides.

I consulted the Master Crafter, a soft-voiced, pretty el’vhen’lan wearing J'u'ne's vallas’lin: triple lines across her forehead surrounding a stylized el'vhen shape, branching spirals across her cheeks and a line over her bottom lip leading to spreading swirls on her throat. She had several small children and a bonded mate herding them away so we could talk. I hadn’t expected to be entrusted with an Ironwood bow, and I vowed to care for it. Then I moved on to the next person I needed to see.

“Master Hunter? May I have a moment of your time please?”

He set aside the blade he was sharpening and smiled. He wore An’d’r’u’i’l's vallas’lin and I had to repress a shudder at the memory of her sheer viciouness the night of the ritual. Between and above his brows, an arrowhead pointed up. Intricate tracings ran down the centre of his face to his chin. Under his eyes the lines and dots, and from cheekbones to chin more lines abstractly symbolizing weapons used in the hunt. “What can I help you with, Ri’ris?”

My middle name had traveled around the camps like wildfire. “Is there an area I can hunt in? I don’t wish to interfere with your clan’s guardianship of the land. And I would like to go hunt and gather what I might.”

He pulled a piece of white paper bark toward him and used a stick with a charcoaled end to sketch out a basic map of the terrain. He made an x in a heavily forested area. “I would suggest taking an offering to Fen’har'el. There’s a shrine nearby.”

“Of course, Master. Ma serrana.”

I’d been given clothing, further indebting me. A pair of soft doeskin pants and a woven halla wool top that accentuated every curve I had. If my support top hadn’t been so ruined, I still would’ve used it. But as it was… if you looked just right, you could see the colour of my nipples. They weren’t exactly being subtle. But I hadn’t expected them to be.

In Dalish culture, someone capable of bearing children from an incredibly distant clan would be quite desireable. If I were actually interested in staying, I could probably have my pick of unattached el’vhen’lin. And would likely be encouraged to take more than one. If my life had gone the way it should’ve, I’d probably have at least two bonded mates and maybe children. Horrifying thought, that. So why did a strange wisp of longing filter through me?

We needed to leave as soon as we could. They'd want me even after they learned the path I walked. But there would be a lot of pressure to abandon it. Something I wouldn’t do. And I didn’t have the luxury or desire to stay, despite some small twinges of longing for the goods, clothes, and lifestyle of home. To be surrounded by my people. I hadn’t been mobbed by eager suitors yet, but after me being obviously well enough to hunt, that would change.

Solas picked up his pace behind me, but he’d been quiet and it worried me. He wouldn’t let me look at his wound. Assuring me that an e’v’an’u’ris would heal just about anything given enough time and resources.

We both moved silently through the forest. I gathered anything of use and tucked it into my gathering bag as we walked. Northern warmth made me sweat a little. We reached the area marked safe for hunting and I slowed into a hunting stalk. I wanted a red deer, or a hart. But I’d take hare, rabbit, anything to reduce our debt. And make me a support top. I hated the constant jiggle of my unrestrained breasts. Ugh.

I’d made a few practice shots in the archery butt before venturing out. New bows were always a little different. But my aim was perfect as I took down a red deer. I paced toward the downed animal quickly, but my knife wasn’t needed to finish. I’d aimed true. I knelt and thanked the animal who would ease my life with their’s, then I got to work. I didn’t want to ruin these new clothes so instead of field dressing my kill, I left the arrow in place and tied its hooves together. I huffed and groaned as I got it into position on my back and shoulder. I’d have a few more bruises that night, but it would be worth it.

Solas still hadn’t said a word.

‘Are you all right? You’re acting weirder than usual. Want an offering? We can find your statue.’

He snorted. ‘For an offering to be effective, it must be given with pure intent. I'm simply tired. I dream visited Sule’din and Lahn last night. They think we’ve lost all survival instinct.’

My turn to snort. ‘Only if the Dalish figure out a few things we won’t be telling them.’

It took longer to get back to camp hauling the deer but a few murmurs followed me as I went through camp. Everyone able hunted and fought in Dalish culture, we had to. But other than our dedicated hunters, most gathered and brought in small game simply because of the weight of the bigger animals. My time enslaved had hardened and strengthened already firm muscles. My time since, fighting, killing, and stealing had only sculpted me more.

I dropped the deer in the food preparation area with a slight groan. A smiling, red haired, freckled el’vhen’lan offered me a leather apron.

“Ma Serrana. Ir Ri’ris Sa'b'r'a'e.”

She giggled and went back to working the small hides she had spread before her. She wore the twisting smoke design of Syl'aise, the Hearthkeeper around her eye. “Oh, everyone knows who you are. You’ve your pick of bond-mates if you want them. I’m La'na'y'a Oronevra.”

I smiled as friendly as I could. Yup. Had to leave very, very soon. This… I absolutely hated how home-y this experience felt. Better even than my own clan. Nothing had fit right after I’d gone home. Least of all me. I got to work dressing, then skinning the deer. Empty wooden troughs surrounded the area. “May I use a trough?”

“Of course. It’s what they’re there for. Would you like my advice? On the males? I’ve grown up with most of the bone-heads.”

Playing the role, I manufactured a blush and nodded shyly. “I would appreciate that. And I know what you mean. All the other Dalish I grew up with I knew as well as sibs.” I made a slurry of the deer’s brain and water from the nearby river. I added crushed, dried oak and hickory leaves. Then I dehaired it using the proper tool, laid out in the communal work space. I saved the hair in a gathering bag from a nearby pile of them. The innards went into a bucket, blood in another. Waste nothing. I’d give it all to the Crafter or Hearth Keeper as I currently had no use for any of it. There would be someone in camp who would be in need. Then I folded the hide into sweeping curves and slid it in. I’d soak it for a day or three. I didn’t like the idea of rough leather scratching my nipples all the time.

“Well, El’and’r'in is likely one of your better choices. Asha have been trying to harness him for years. (Women) He’s an excellent Master Scout and fighter, and you’ll never want for meat. He’s a skilled hunter.” She glanced at the deer I was currently preparing as food. “Though, maybe that’s not a concern for you? He’s sweet though, and patient behind that tough face he puts on. He’d be a good bond-mate and Papae.”

“Are you, I mean…”

“Interested in D'r'in? M'y'th'al’enaste, no!” She cackled. “He’s my sib. We have the same parents. His hair is almost as red as mine. But I heard you were pretty rough when you came in so you might not have noticed. No. I’m not interested in any of my clan. That’s why we’re all gathered here. For us to trade potential bond mates. I’ve my eye on a few possibilities in Ersallae.”

“I didn’t wish to overstep.”

“Oh, don’t you worry about that. I’ll make sure you know who is courting and who is free to court you. Last thing you need is some jealous cat trying to fight you for someone.”

The very idea was hilarious. Me? Fight to keep a male? Hardly.

If D'r'in isn’t to your taste, C'i'l'l'i'an is a little younger, a bit of a prankster, but passionate about protecting those he claims as his. He has an older mother and a sister. His mother is our Master Halla Keeper, and his sister will likely take her place eventually. They’re quite kind but not in the inner circle, if that matters at all to you?”

“Rank means little." It meant nothing. Keeper La'v'el'lan, clan leader, was my mother, and it hadn’t ever meant anything that truly mattered. "If I were to ever bond with anyone, I’d want people who could make me happy more than anything else. And… I’m not exactly unmarked by life. Someone gentle, and caring maybe.”

“Both D'r'in and C'i'l fit that description. They’re close friends, if you’re thinking more than one. Then the Keeper’s Second is around your age and ready to settle down. He’s her son, so, rank may exclude him if all you’re looking for is peace.”

Peace. I must’ve known what that felt like at some point. I glanced away and down. This act was telling on me already. Even if I’d wanted to bond, no one would want someone as messed up as me for more than a night or two.

“You’re far from unattractive, Ri’ris. It’s not just what you could mean for the clan that has the males planning a gathering for you tonight. Your eyes have such a gorgeous shape and that hair! If I didn’t love mine so much I’d want yours.”

She managed to make me smile for real a few times as we worked. She offered her friendship easily, and it felt… good. Achingly so. How long had it been since I’d had a female friend? Not a lover, but just… a friend? She filled me in on camp dynamics, which males to avoid and which were free to court me. She told me stories of what a good Keeper they had, too. And asked if I liked her grandmother, the healer.

“She’s wonderful. Her energy is so calm.”

“She makes the best rose candy I’ve ever tasted in my life.”

I smiled. My grandmother made rose candy, too. Was she still alive? I finished cutting before I set up about half the meat to cure for jerky on the communal racks. I thanked La'na'y'a for the help and enjoyable company. “If there’s to be a gathering, I should bathe.”

“Oh, upriver a ways is a large eddy where the water is much warmer. Soapwort grows nearby.”

I nodded, before seeking out the communal Hearth Keeper to give the rest to. Provisions that would go to the clan. Then I returned the borrowed bow with gratitude. I grabbed a few things from the ara’v’el and headed toward the bathing area.

Eight years. How had it been eight years since I’d been to La'v'el'lan to see Mamae and Papae? I wrote, and so did they, but letters weren’t the same. Of course, a visit would've been intensely painful for everyone. But still, eight years?

I led Solas up the river, harvested some Soapwort, and washed my hands and arms. ‘Would you object greatly to a bath? You’re getting a bit whiff.’

He grumbled. ‘In the river, I suppose?’

‘It’s a northern river so not too cold. There’s an eddy here, it’ll be even warmer there, and it’s early enough that the sun will dry you. I even found some Soapwort. I’m bathing, too. I have a feeling my state of injured grace is going to end tonight.’

‘You planned this.’

I smirked. Quite thoroughly. He'd been such a grump the past few days. Maybe being clean would make him feel better. I’d brought the sleep shirt to change into so I could wash the new shirt. Even careful as I’d been, it still had a waft of deer stink... and me stink. I'd thought I'd gotten used to the Northern climate. 

I stripped and waded into the water, dragging my shirt. I washed it first, then draped it on a nearby bush to drip while I cleaned us up. I patted my thigh. “Su’lan. Come. Come in, boy.”

‘I hate you.’

“You’re such a good boy! Come on, Su’lan. Come!” ‘Don’t worry, precious snookums.’ I smiled sweetly and let acid drip from my tone as I crooned, ‘It’s mutual. Get your stinky wolf ass in here.’

He slowly limped into the sun warmed water of the eddy. The smooth, sandy bottom soothed my feet. I frowned, watching him move. I wasn’t good at healing, true, but I’d been trying every night. Shouldn’t it have had some effect?

He let out a long suffering sigh and lay down in the water, dunking his head to get himself wet. I knelt next to him and gently stirred and lifted his fur to get it all wet. I carefully avoided his wound.

“Up.” I said.

He stood up and stared at me while he dripped pathetically. ‘Don’t you dare laugh.’

I snorted, then chuckled. “You look like a drowned rat.” I lathered the soapwort in my hands and washed him carefully. The gently floral scent washed away the smell of smoke, and blood, and wolf.

I winced when I found several more scabbed over cuts under his fur. None bad enough to have needed stitches, but definitely enough to make him hurt more. ‘Why did you do it, Solas?’

‘Accept an unwanted bath? Because I need one.’

‘Nice try. And that was a rather pitiful attempt at deflection.’

He just snorted at me and turned his head away.

‘I’m not letting it go. Close your eyes so I can get your face.’

He did so. ‘Why did you catch me, haul me up a freezing river, stitch my wounds, keep me fed? Sule’din and Lahn are belovéd by us both. We’re family, even if we don’t like each other. And… Shay likes you. I… Shay is probably the most broken of us. They’ve been used more than any being ever should be. Please treat them well?’

I rinsed his face and made sure I got all the soapwort off.

‘Shay knows I don’t have a romantic relationship to offer anyone. Nothing more than physical pleasure. I vowed after the last… I won’t fall in love again. My heart can’t take it. I’m not even sure if any of it is left. They had me for almost five years. They spared me nothing. Every indignity… I didn’t come home the same. I was fifteen, when they captured me, and still so naïve. I should’ve seen it before. It’s so obvious now.’ My eyes burned and I waited. No tears.

‘I understand.’

I snorted. ‘How could a Prince of ancient Ar’lath’an, the God of Rebellion, ever understand what it’s like to be enslaved? You probably ate off gold plates and slept on silk and shit.’

‘The gold plates and silk are true enough. But you do not know my true history beyond a few thin facts. I would suggest considering why I rebelled. I was not always known as Rebellion.’ He turned to wade out. He got to the shore, took a deep breath, then shook himself just like a dog.

It splattered me with doggie smelling drops. ‘You did that on purpose!’ I stamped my foot. ‘Jerkass.’

He sat as still and noble as a statue of Fen’har’el. The warm wind ruffled his fur, drying it.

‘You might want to adopt a pose that makes you look less like yourself.’

He sighed. Then stuck his head under a back leg. ‘Dog enough?’

I snorted. Then clapped a hand over my mouth to stifle the actual laugh he’d startled out of me. It didn’t help. I cracked the fuck up and laughed so hard I fell onto my ass in the river. And I couldn’t stop laughing. It’s like all the riotous laughter I hadn’t experienced in twelve years came bubbling out of me.

Eventually, I managed to gain control of myself. Hopefully, no one had seen me lose it like that. I had no logical reason to explain it. A dog cleaning himself wouldn’t make anyone without a cracked mind laugh like that. And it had been Solas, of all people, who’d managed to make me laugh, completely, without restraint, for the first time since I’d been captured. I mean, I laughed, giggled occasionally, chuckled, but outright belly laughter? The kind that lifts your spirits, makes you feel light and alive? Never. I’d lost the ability to both laugh and cry.

The object of my unwilling amusement had curled up on a sun-warmed shelf of stone. He lifted his nose to the wind. ‘No one is near.’ He dropped his gaze to mine, where I still sat in the sun-warmed water. ‘What should you have seen that’s so obvious now?’

I busied myself washing my hair. I suppose it didn’t matter. I’d end up talking to Sule about it, anyway. Which meant Solas would probably find out eventually. ‘I feel like the most gullible person to ever walk the planet. When I was, four? I think? My parents traded my brother for a future bond-mate for me. He wanted to go, he’d fallen in love with an el’vhen’lan from another clan. But he couldn’t without an appropriate trade. The way we trade people must seem barbaric. It’s usually willing. We don’t force anyone to leave their clans to bond. Parents go to the new clan with their kids. People like to say we eject extra mages, but that’s not even remotely true for most clans. Magic is prized. Though, huh. I guess that doesn’t matter anymore.’

‘Some of you will be stronger than others. Some won’t have the patience for it. But yes.’

I went to my knees with my back to him to wash. ‘My betrothed and I grew up together. But it felt like a close friendship, and not… what the bards sing of. We travelled to another Ar’lath’vhen when I was fourteen. I fell in love. Passionate, raging love. The kind probably only young people ever experience with their first brush with it.

‘She was perfect. Or I thought she was. We petitioned the Ha’rhen’al to wed. But we were both betrothed elsewhere, and they denied our request. Instead, upholding and formalizing the agreed upon betrothals. I grieved the entire journey back to where La’v’el’lan travels. Can anyone be more selfish than a teen grieving their first love? Probably. But I didn’t realize how much I’d hurt my betrothed by wanting to break it so I could bond with another. At my current age, I certainly would’ve handled things differently. Perhaps the four of us in a quad... something could've been worked out. Maybe.’

‘It does seem that the exigencies of youth are there simply to hurt us until we develop some measure of applied wisdom.’

I snorted softly and stood to wash and rinse the bottom half of me. Then I went and sat next to him on the sun warmed rock. ‘I didn’t know how badly I’d hurt them until the battle on the cliffs. They avoided me, when I went home after escaping. Travelling with the merchants. I think I only saw their back once before I decided to leave. Nothing… nothing fit anymore. My old life just didn’t… fit.’

I started combing my hair with my fingers. I’d have to carve a comb or trade for one. ‘During the battle. They were there. Elgar’nan’s vallas’lin static and unglowing on their face. Eyes clear and full of hatred. I tried to reason with them, but they wouldn’t hear me. They left me no choice. I got to hold them a last time while my blade lodged in their heart. Their last words were, “I should’ve just killed you, instead of selling you.”’

I shook my head and plucked a few blades of vanilla grass to roll in my hands. It smelled divine. ‘I’d always thought it cowardice, something I’d never expected of them, back then. They were about two years older than me. But it wasn’t. They intentionally led me in that direction, then turned tail and ran. Not because they were a coward, but because they’d sold me to Tevene slavers. I’d loved them. Not in the overwhelming, passionate kind of love I experienced at the Ar’lath’vhen, but I held them close to my heart while… while the slavers used me. And… they were the one to sentence me to that. The only reason I can think of, given the timing, was that I’d hurt them far more than I could ever have known. They didn’t even seem regretful of their actions, or what it did to me. Just… angry that they’d made the wrong choice.’

‘Ir abel’as. That must be difficult.’

‘You’d think I’d be a broken mess over it, wouldn’t you? I think most people would be, at finding out about that kind of complete betrayal. All I feel is foolish. Like I should’ve seen it.’

‘You were fifteen. To be fair to yourself.’

‘I was enslaved as a galley worker on a Tevene merchant for four and a half years. Because of something that happened… that I couldn’t control… when I was fourteen. How do you ever trust anyone ever again after something like that? Even if I wanted a relationship, which I definitely don’t, or Lahn and I might’ve done something about our attraction to each other by now... I just don’t think I’m capable of having one. Shay is safe as long as they spoke true about being emotionally unavailable.’

‘Shay has always been mercurial. But they, too, have loved and lost.’

‘The sun is about to go down. The gathering will likely be held in front of the ara’v’el we’re using. It’s the way courtship usually starts. A gathering put together by those interested in getting to know the available person. You can rest in the opening or on the bed, if you’d like. I’m concerned about your healing. Are you sure we can’t try the Halla balm?’

‘You just got the stink off, and you want to put another on? My eyes water even thinking about it.’

‘You are so prissy.’

‘Prissy?’

‘Oh please. Don’t try to deny it. I’ve seen the way you dress.’

‘I am a simple coursing hound.’

‘Luckily they believe that. But you know I never will.’ I stood and slid into the sleep shirt for my walk back to camp. My shirt and pants I carried. Shirt still slightly damp.

Chapter Text

SOLAS

We got back to the land-ship and went inside. The cats had discovered us that first night, but despite my form, they'd decided they liked me. Perhaps I would watch from the door. Exhaustion kept weighing me down and I’d run a raging fever since the day I’d stalked off so I wouldn’t say more regrettable things to Rook. I’d torn open my wound, and something had obviously gotten into it.

I wasn’t healing nearly as well as I should’ve been because of the infection, but eventually, I’d heal even that.

Though, I absolutely ached for Lahn's gentle hands on me, healing me fully. At the rate I healed, they might very well be able to get to us before we could reach the el’u’vi’an. But in our current circumstances, Inquistor La’v’el’lan and an ancient El’vhen Sentinel walking into camp would probably do more harm than good.

I trundled up the ramp behind Rook. Then tilted my head in curiosity when they gasped. Ah. Someone had left more clothing for them.

‘I have to admit I missed the feel of Halla wool. It’s a shame you don’t have hands. It’s as soft as velvet and so fine it won’t catch on anything.’

I laboriously climbed onto the bed, avoiding the skirt and blouse laid across it. I controlled my exhausted flop, but only barely. Within moments all three of the cats had hopped up and lay down around me.

Rook sat on the edge of the bed. ‘I can’t believe they like you so much. Pretty shitty guards.’

‘I suppose that depends upon what you expect them to guard against. I hold no ill will in this situation. And I like cats. A lot. They can probably sense that.’

‘Then why not choose a feline form?’

‘I like wolves more.’

Rook lifted the delicately woven blouse. It would fall from their shoulders. Thin, the firelight would show every curve. I had a feeling Rook would hate that.

‘I shouldn’t wear this.’ They sat fingering the embroidery on the edge of the top and running riot across the scarlet of the calf length skirt. The Halla wool so fine it floated.

‘Why?’

A sad half smile lifted Rook’ mouth. ‘It’s a courting outfit. We wear red and white when we’re ready to settle down. When we’re just in our day to day, we wear a scarf that’s half red, half white. Or a sash. Somewhere it’s obvious. Whoever made this, they spun and dyed the cloth, spun and dyed the embroidery thread, and the entire time they were doing it, they prayed that a person they love would find a love match. A heart bond. They’re not as common, the more trouble we have having children. My Mamae and Papae were from extremely distant Clans. Most Dalish relationships are lucky to have two children. Many have none. If I had to guess, one of the mothers of the ones hoping to court me worked on this in secret. Probably for years. It’s an incredibly important thing.’

‘I see. Can we afford for you to not wear it?’

Their shoulders slumped. ‘I’m tired of this charade. I don’t want to lead these males on, when I know I’m not staying. That I have no intention of walking a different path. We needed their help. And we’d never have gotten past them, regardless. But…’

‘Is it painful for you to be among your people again?’

‘If sad nostalgia and wondering what could’ve been are a type of pain, yes. It sounds, smells, tastes… like home here. I’ve had Dalish foods I haven’t had in years and hadn’t realized I’d missed so much. The clothing, the culture, it all feels right. But it isn’t. Not really. If it were, I wouldn’t still feel the spur of vengeance.’

‘If I am speaking out of line, do not answer me. Are not the ones who enslaved you dead? Is the person who orchestrated it not also dead? You have a strong Spirit of Freedom, Rook. It is easy for that to corrupt into Tyranny, Vengeance, and Enslavement. That’s what Elgar’nan was created as. A Spirit of Freedom. I’m probably one of the few people who still know that. Perhaps… it might not be a horrible idea to consider a different path?’

‘How do you know what kind of spirit I have?’

‘I am The Dread Wolf. I can see it. I can see every El’vhen’s spirit.’

‘Elves, too?’

‘Are Elves not El’vhen?’

Rook frowned. ‘Many elders still refer to us that way. But we look so different from you.’

‘My theory on why Sule’din changed is simply that she lived in a strong magical environment for a long time. The whole world will eventually revert to the way it should always have been. I think it likely new El’vhen will grow to look more like the ancients. And it’s entirely possible that all of you will, in time.’

Rook chuckled a bit sadly. ‘Even if I wanted to join a new clan, just to have a home among my people… I still couldn’t. Anyone capable of it and unwilling to try for children is banal’ghil’an’a (led astray). It’s not fair, nor is it right. There shouldn’t be so much pressure on us to live only one kind of life. It’s motivated by the survival of our people, so even though I don’t even remotely like it, I understand it. And I would be an absolutely terrible parent. The idea of getting pregnant, carrying, being unable to move the way I’m used to, to even my emotions… it makes my skin absolutely crawl. And there’s the war. I’m not likely to survive it. And it will bring me peace. To be finished. Because how could I ever change paths… when I know there are others just like me out there. Needing rescue… I’m on the path life needs me to walk. I just miss home. When it was home.’

The thunk of drums warming by the fire came into the ship. ‘And that’s my summons. I may smell of booze when I get in. I can’t not partake. I’ll be cautious though. I don’t need it muddling my mind when I’m walking such a difficult balance.’ They dressed in the outfit they hadn’t wanted to wear, and styled their hair in a loose bun on their head with carved wooden sticks holding it together. Before they left, they made sure I had access to food and water.

My lids grew heavy and I sighed as I slipped into badly needed sleep. My muddled mind trying to keep everything Rook had revealed that day straight.

If they stayed on the path to vengeance, it would most assuredly kill them. Cole hadn’t ever been wrong since I’d known him. And he rarely outright asked for my help.

ROOK

I'd been careful to give any interested suitors equal time. And I smiled widely as El’and’rin twirled me in place. I let my head fall back, trusting him to keep me upright. I’d been exhausted the night he and his scouts had found us. I really had missed how gorgeous he was. He had the narrow face, uptilted eyes, and wirey strength so many Dalish did. His pale, sun-kissed skin made his vallas’lin in a dark, forest green stand out boldly. M'y'th'al’s delicate tree-like vallas’lin made his face even more beautiful, even as I feared for him. With M'y'th'al still out there.

He had a couple of inches on me and a grin that could have a person’s knickers on the floor faster than you could blink. He’d left his wavy red hair mostly down and the light from the bonfire gleamed from it and eyes so green they could’ve been blackthorn leaves. “C'i'l!” D'r'in called.

A laughing elf with warm brown skin, melting dark eyes, and short curls set aside his cup of fermented halla milk and hopped up to join our dance. Ghil'an'na'in's stylized halla on his forehead and chin worried me. Her... complete and utter coldness had been clear the night of the ritual. She wasn't the warm and loving guide we'd always believed. Any more than M'y'th'al actually protected and cared for us. C'i'l was a little shorter than D'r'in, but they were both taller than me. The Halla’hanin had definitely gone to my head.

They passed me back and forth until the world spun and I could’ve been any young Dalish ready to settle down. Dancing with attractive suitors also interested in starting a life together. The lovingly embroidered skirt flared widely as they spun me. Skillfully passing me back and forth.

I stole these moments for myself. I hadn’t really had a choice about wearing the outfit or attending the gathering, so I’d keep the memories. Tucked away in the dark shrouds of my heart. I should’ve had this. Even with my betrothal, I should’ve had this. Two summers after the Ar’lath’vhen I would’ve been sixteen. We would’ve courted properly then. So I revelled, for that one night, in what should’ve been mine.

The soft sand around the huge, central bonfire cushioned my feet and slid sensually between my toes. The taste of Halla’hanin, the scents of familiar foods, the flash of red and white clothing, the attention and enjoyment of a beautiful Dalish male or two.

The thump of drums, the ringing of bells, the clack of halla horn clapping sticks, the breathy sound of wooden flutes, the slick of sweat on my skin as we danced, the smiling faces of already settled couples and throuples surrounding us, I clung to every moment so I could remember it.

I stumbled. D'r'in and C'i'l caught me between them and I giggled. Drunk. Definitely. But not badly enough to drag these two into a tryst that would mean far more to them than me. Despite my and Solas’s precarious position, my libido was raring to go and if they’d been anyone else… I’d have already been riding both of them.

Down, I can’t.

Before I knew it, D'r'in and C'i'l had me seated on a shaped log between them. D'r'in passed me a horn cup and I almost said no until I realized it was water. If I’d had a heart, it might’ve ached at what could never be. Giving me water because I needed it rather than booze exposed a truth his sister had hinted at. That D'r'in was a truly caring, gentle el’vhen. Whoever he bonded with would be lucky.

I handed back the cup and D'r'in smiled at me. Horny hallas, he smelled so good. I just wanted to drag him and C'i'l off into the trees and find out how each of them tasted. Everywhere. I squeezed my thighs together. C'i'l handed me a skewer of forest mushrooms, venison, and sweet pears. I hadn’t eaten much. Their warmth on either side of me made me ache. My life should’ve been this simple, this good. Whether I'd have actually chosen not to stay, of my own volition was irrelevant. I should’ve had the opportunity to choose for myself. 

Possessed talking trees. I’d forgotten how strong fermented halla milk was. Halla’s Glory indeed! I carefully took off the courting outfit and draped it across the clothing rack. I certainly wouldn’t take it with me. I staggered a bit. Dancing and having fun in the ways of the Dalish had been a wonderful release from the worry of the impending war. Nothing had scarred this area yet. You could almost believe that the world continued to tick on the way it always had. I took a quick basin bath. I’d worked up a sweat. Dalish reserved the first hour or so of a courting gathering for just those interested in doing so. After that, the rest of the clan joined in. I tended my hair and paused. The food and water I’d left for Solas hadn’t been touched. It was chopped bits of jerky, so would be fine until morning, but he should’ve eaten.

I glanced at the bed and snorted. He’d cuddled under the covers, had his head on the pillow, and three cats used him as a mattress. Was he really sappy enough to not eat because he didn’t want to disturb the cats?

I made sure we had everything we needed for the night, then secured the door. I let out a deep sigh of relief when I slid into bed. At least many would be likely to sleep a little late tomorrow morning.

A soft groan woke me. My back and butt were snuggled into the belly and chest of a rather delicious feeling male. My head floated, still slightly foggy with drink, and I enjoyed sliding my skin over his for a few moments as I eased over onto my other side. I slowly drew the arch of my foot up a strong calf and rested my thigh on his. I didn’t remember going to bed with anyone, but it certainly wouldn’t be the first time I’d woken up in a place I didn’t remember getting to.

Horny hallas. The way his deliciously muscled chest pressed against my breasts, mmmm, I’d definitely have to see if he were still interested when we both woke up. Y’know. When I could remember fucking him because that body felt absolutely perfect against me. I could only imagine how good he’d feel inside me because I couldn’t remember it from earlier. Not the first time for that either. I snuggled closer, frowning a little at the heat, but halla wool was warm. I caressed my hand over his hip and a firmly muscled waist. I started to drift off again. Except, then my fingers touched the edges of a wound that curved around his ribs.

Solas? Ack! I landed with a heavy thump on the floor I’d recoiled from him so fast and hard. Oh, ew. Ew, ew, ew. I’d just been feeling Solas up! Oh torn sails! I needed a bath. Immediately. We were both as naked as when we’d come into the world.

Please, please, please let him be asleep. I peeked up over the edge of the bed to find feverish purple eyes twinkling with mirth. He still had Su'lan's collar around his neck, which... no, Rook. Ew!

‘I assure you I’m clean. A rather determined el’vhen made absolutely sure of that this afternoon.’

I lay back down. Wanting to roll under the bed and die in shame. Yup. I had no idea how to even remotely continue after what had just happened. Thank the sails I hadn’t dipped my hand lower to one of my favourite parts of a presumed guy’s anatomy.

Oh. Yeah. Could I just die of embarrassment? Any time now? Please?

‘Not getting back into bed?’

‘Nooooo. Nope. Just fine down here. I apologize. I was mostly asleep. I didn’t know it was you.’

I sat up fast. ‘Wait, how are you, you shaped?’

‘I am me shaped in all my shapes.’

‘How does Sule put up with you without bashing you in the head with a frying pan? How did you shift back?’

‘Unsure. I woke just before—’

‘The thing we are never, ever, ever, ever mentioning again unless we want me dead from embarrassment.’

‘I’m badly fevered. It might have triggered a shift to reduce my core temperature.’

‘Fevered? Since when?’ I patted around for the sleep shirt and pulled it on before climbing on top of the covers.

He looked away.

It could’ve been the booze, but I braced my hands on my hips. ‘Since. When. You furry, stinky, massively irritating dickshit?’

He sighed. ‘Late in the night that I scouted and found this camp.’

My fist curled all by itself and I wanted to do nothing more than let him have it with a right uppercut on the tip of that annoyingly attractive chin.

‘You’ve been sick for that long and didn’t say anything?’

‘You haven’t been around canids much, have you? I thought you’d noticed when you touched my nose. They’re not supposed to be dry and hot.’

‘And once you'd figured out I hadn’t noticed?’

He looked away like a kid caught with his hand in a cookie jar.

Seriously. How did my sister put up with him? For fuck’s sake!

He mumbled something and I pinched the bridge of my nose, really hoping I’d heard him wrong. ‘Repeat that? So I can actually understand it?’

‘You’d have made me drink more elfroot tea.’

‘Fucking brainless… y’know? For someone as smart as you’re supposed to be, you have remarkably deep pockets of absolute stupidity! What is wrong with you?’

‘An e'v’an’u’ris will heal fine from this. Without dirty leaf water.’

‘You are so lucky you’re injured. Or I’d be beating the shit out of you. Do you know that?’

He… giggled? ‘Well. You’d be trying to beat the shit out of me.’

‘Arrogant, snail-brained, bird-dicked, stupid fucking wolf!’

He snorted then giggled again liked I’d said something hilarious. ‘I happen to be rather intelligent.’

‘You couldn’t prove it by current evidence. Are you delirious?’ I pressed a hand to his forehead. He probably was delirious with a fever that high.

‘Has it been this bad since the first night?’

He didn’t answer.

I smacked his cheek until he opened dazed purple eyes.

‘Has it been this bad since the first night?’

‘Some.’ His eyes drifted shut.

Argh! Useless, arrogant, dick licking, halla fucking, shit for brains! Some! What the fuck did that mean? Some of the time? Fucking stupid wolf.

I huffed off the bed and went to brew some tea. I’d been rebuilding my survival pouch. As fast as I could source the materials. Though I would’ve raided the ara’v’el’s supplies if I’d needed to. I lit the magical coil under the heavy clay pot and filled it half full with water. I crunched some elfroot and vanilla grass into the pot, along with some spindleweed I’d gathered before bathing that afternoon. It was good for fevers.

Then I grabbed flint and steel to light every lantern in the room. Solas opened his eyes, then squinted them shut. Bright red fever spots almost glowed high on his stupidly pretty cheekbones.

I crawled up on the bed and let out a low growl. “Fucking idiot.”

His wound had gone bad. He’d torn a couple of stitches, probably the day of our fight. And now, puss and swelling squished around the rest of the stitches.

I drew in a deep breath and held it so I wouldn’t blow up at him. ‘No wonder you’re still limping around. I’m telling Sule’din. Have you seen what she’s like when someone she loves willfully endangers themselves?’

By his wince, I’d say, yes. Good.

The bubbling of the pot filtered into my perception and I went to pour a cup full through the strainer. Then I filled the pot to the brim and added more herbs.

I added a bit of cool water so he could drink it faster. I glared at him just like Mamae used to glare at me when I‘d pulled some dumbassed stunt. ‘You will drink this. Without complaint. Then you will lay there while I clean the wound you’ve let go bad. Incompetent ass.’

‘Hardly incompetent, I think you’ll find.’

Acid dripped from my tone. ‘Because it’s completely logical, competent, and wise to avoid drinking tea you know is good for your wounds, not telling the person you’re travelling with that your injury is getting worse, and being vulnerable with fever in the middle of a camp full of people who would stone you if you’re fucking lucky, or turn you and me into the next bone marionettes for scaring off strangers? Sure. That’s intelligent and competent. Absolutely.’

‘I suppose when you put it like that.’ He giggled again.

I growled low in my throat.

‘You sound just like Sule’din when you do that. I’m honestly not certain which one of you is more terrifying when you’re angry.’

I looked skyward for a moment. Wishing there were real gods so that I could cuss them out.

At least he’d obeyed and drunk the tea. Though with his skin burning up with fever and delirious giggles spouting from him, I wasn’t sure how much good it would do. I wished I could go get the healer. I tried to figure out how I could explain the suddenly injured, mysteriously appearing guy who looked like all the ancient statues when I had a now just as mysteriously missing, awfully wolfie looking companion… yeah. Nope.

I sighed heavily and went to fetch a basin. I dumped half the bubbling pot full of hot water into it, and added a square of halla wool used as a face cloth.

‘This stinks you’ve let it get so bad. Aren’t you supposed to be a healer?’

‘It actually hasn’t been that bad. It’s gotten much worse since this afternoon.’

‘Dumbass.’

Giggles.

I considered not doing it to make him pay for being so damned reckless, but I slowly put a pain block in place. Then I eased the stitches out as carefully as I could. They took skin with them because of the swelling. But luckily, the wound didn’t gape. The putrid stench that wafted up had my eyes watering. ‘I would never have let you near the water if I’d known you had an open wound, nug brain.’

‘It was sealed over. This is just the infection reaching its peak. Besides, the water was pristine. The Dalish are excellent stewards of nature." He snorted with mirth. ‘Nug brain.’

I wet the cloth and carefully washed the gash. Then I pressed down on it to get rid of any internal puss. That would have to be left open and not be restitched. I dumped the water into the slops pot, wiped out the basin and started fresh. At least it only took two basins to get it as clean as possible.

I then spent a good two hours when I should’ve been sleeping using just barely cool water scented with vanilla grass to bathe his face, neck, and not-even-remotely-attractive chest to help bring his fever down. The bastard had nipple rings, which wasn't even close to fair. I'd had to remove his collar because of reasons.

I opened the ara’v’el's stores for healing ointment and bandages, but I soon had him wrapped up.

Once his fever seemed lower, I got him another cup of tea and gave it to him with a raised eyebrow. ‘I could always pinch your nose, you infuriating jerk. Please. Give me the excuse.’

He sighed and drank the tea. I wasn’t exactly feeling generous but I got him a glass of water. Maybe if he rinsed his mouth afterward he wouldn’t be such a damned baby.

Fatigue washed over me and I blew out the candles and lanterns. Then climbed into bed, on top of the sheet so there wouldn’t be any accidental groping.

Stupid wolf.

Chapter Text

ROOK

By the sounds of camp, it had passed mid-day and then some. A halla's horn chimes jangled and I frowned. It wasn’t a travel day, was it?

Then I snapped back to reality. Immediately, I reached out and laid the back of my hand against Solas’s sleeping neck.

Tempting as it was to strangle him in his sleep, I sighed at finding him cool, his pulse strong. At least my work from last night hadn’t been a waste. I grumbled silently and got up, eyes still sore from lack of sleep. Then dressed in my pants and long, flowy halla wool shirt. I set the slops bucket close to the bed, hoping his Princely majesty could figure out how to use it as a chamberpot. I had a feeling he wouldn’t be able to shift back yet. Guess ‘Su’lan’ would have a day or two inside recovering from his wounds.

I went outside and stopped, my eyes almost bugging out. “You’re bloody huge.” And he was. The halla standing with his head pointed at the entrance to the ara’v’el stood three times as big as the ones in L’a’v’el’lan’s herds.

La'na'y'a stopped, obviously on her way down to get water. “Oh, good luck with that one. But at least you have a leader for your team?” She warily eyed the halla. “Heading down for water?”

I nodded and went to grab a bucket.

Horn-head snorted and stomped a foot before shouldering under a yoke on the front of the ara’v’el. They were stored in ways that the halla could put on and take off on their own. Dalish and their halla’len used them for carrying whatever was needed.

I rolled my eyes. So completely put out with stubborn males at that moment. But I shrugged and hung four water buckets off the yoke. If a halla offered to help, it would be extremely un-Dalish of me to reject it.

La'na'y'a and I walked companionably down to the upper river to fill our buckets. The halla’s chimes sang sweetly from his horns as the buck followed us.

“Last night was fun, wasn’t it?” La'na'y'a bumped me with her hip. “Saw you dancing with D’r’in and C’i’l.”

I faked a smile. “It was a great deal of fun. Were those your bond considerations you were dancing with?”

She snorted. “Well. They were. Maybe I’ll find someone at next year’s Ar’lath’vhen.”

I frowned. “Isn’t it early for an Ar’lath’vhen? The last I could go to I was fourteen, but… then I’d have been twenty-four… next shouldn’t be until I’m thirty-four, so… six years from now?”

“It is, but we lost a lot of people when the breach broke the skies, so we’ve been having them more frequently. The shems have been more aggressive the past several years, too. So, while it’s always dangerous to gather in groups like this one, an Ar’lath’vhen is even more at risk. The ha’hren have changed the schedule for those reasons. The time and location of the next Ar’lath’vhen is decided at the last, and we’ve largely abandoned the every ten year format. For now, anyway.”

She giggled. D’r’in likes you. Like, really, likes you. He was grinning like a cat after the gathering. I’ve never seen him even remotely interested like that. I honestly figured that he and C’i’l would eventually build an ara’v’el together. They’ve always been close. Though they’ve both always wanted children. I suppose most of us do.”

I tilted my head. “Don’t you?”

She shrugged. “Eventually, sure. Maybe. If it happened I’d be happy enough, but a lot of younger Dalish are questioning the ‘way things are’. You know what the ha’rhen are like. Our Keeper is very forward thinking, and I agree with her. We should just take in more people instead of heavily pressuring the ones we already have to be baby making… what do the shems call female horses reserved for breeding?”

I snorted. “Broodmares.”

She shuddered. “Do you remember those old horror stories about brood mothers we weren’t supposed to listen to?”

I shivered and nodded. “I was so relieved to find out they were extinct, if they’d ever even existed, and that darkspawn are corrupted people. Not that corrupted people is good—"

La'na'y'a snorted. “Stop. I get it. Oh ugh. Those stories were awful. It’s just the name for those poor horses made me think of them.”

I sighed. “Seems if you’ve got tits everyone wants you to live a certain way, regardless of what you actually want. No matter what your species.”

“Do you like him?”

Warmth rushed to my cheeks at the thoughts I’d had about both D’r’in and C’i’l last night.

La'na'y'a snickered. “My lips are sealed. You should take as much time as you want to decide. You’re an enby of your own. You’ve your own home, can hunt and craft for yourself, and,” she tossed her head at the halla following us, “You’ve a team leader. He’ll be able to find helpers to pull for you.”

I glanced over my shoulder. “Is he a throwback? He’s huge!”

The halla snorted as if offended. Was I cursed to have pale, purple-eyed males driving me bonkers?

“Sorry. You’re just way bigger than I’m used to seeing.”

“Oh, no. Oronevra encourages the old lines. A few clans still do, mostly us Northerners. All our halla are riding sized. You should see the scouts and warriors on them.” She got a dreamy look in her eyes. “Makes you wonder what ancient Ar’lath’an Knights looked like, riding them. Hot, I bet.”

I snorted. Well. Lahn, Solas, and Shay were all quite nice to look at. Even if one of them was so fucking stupid I wanted to strangle him. “I bet they were incredibly majestic. Probably incredibly arrogant, too.”

La'na'y'a giggled. “Halla and knights would be well matched, I think. Especially that one.”

“Why do I feel like you’re pitying me that he wants to lead my team?”

“Oh, he’s as wonderful as any other halla. Just a bit… stubborn. He hasn’t found a friend he’d willingly work for, and no one can ride him.” She rolled her eyes. “If bribery worked on halla, someone would have one of the strongest I’ve ever seen as a good friend.”

“Why me?”

“You know how they are. Picky about who they’ll be friends with and they pick.”

Okay. That halla was as stupid as Solas. Got it.

“I wonder why he’s never bonded before?”

La'na'y'a shook her head. “No clue. All his offspring have those pretty purple eyes, though.”

I repressed a groan. I didn’t want to even remotely consider pretty purple eyes. Or I’d poke one of Solas’s out. Idiot.

We reached the upper river and filled our buckets. Stupid drank his fill while we did so, then waited patiently while I made sure his load was balanced and wouldn’t rub anywhere.

“Keeper Oronevra is going to be surprised that he’s finally chosen. You’re good with halla.”

I shrugged. “Ours are much smaller. Or were… the... the last time I saw them. When I was little, several would pretend to be a knight with me. I was rather put out when I got too big to ride them.”

“Not a problem with ours. I personally think more clans should try to maintain the old lines. But I suppose smaller halla would be easier to find browse for.”

“And get through narrow forested trails, too.”

I stopped next to La'na'y'a’s family’s ara’v’el to let her have one of the extra water fills. I readjusted Stupid's load. I certainly didn’t need that much water. And it would spare her another trip.

“I’d better get him unloaded and back to the herd.”

La'na'y'a thanked me for the water and gave me an odd look. She didn’t say anything, but she was thinking that an elf really didn’t get much choice in a halla’s choice. Oh, we could reject them, if they offered friendship. And I’d have to, because he’d just end up dead following me. Almost anything or anyone I cared about ended up dead. But the beautiful bond between Dalish and Halla was such a deep part of ourselves that it was almost unheard of for one of us to deny an offer of friendship.

I led the way to the ara’v’el and unloaded the big water buckets and covered them before offering some sweetened nuts as a thank you to Stupid.

I went inside long enough to fetch the bucket and leave a cup of tea for Mr. Faker, pretending to be asleep. Then, returned the bucket after washing up.

Following my ears, I made my way to the herd.

The main part of the herd grazed in peaceful coexistence on the closest hill of a rolling plain. To the side, a difficult obstacle course had been set up. Oh. La'na'y'a hadn’t been exaggerating. Oh my. Hard thighs clamped around their hallas and wild grins on their faces C’i’l and D’r’in raced the hallas they rode through an obstacle course. Stupid snorted and nudged me with his nose, pushing me toward the obstacle course.

“You’ve got mange in the brain if you think I’m riding you through that.”

He stamped his hoof like a spoiled child. I shook my head and crossed my arms. “I was like, seven the last time I rode a halla. Nae. I’ll land on my head. Besides, I’d rather watch.”

I’m pretty sure that made Stupid roll his eyes. He huffed at me but didn’t go down the hill to join the grazing herd. They were all more than big enough to ride, but Stupid was still bigger.

Halla couldn’t be ordered to do anything they didn’t want to do, they were too smart. The glee on the guys’ faces was echoed in the hallas’ body language.

I caught my breath at the jump the two raced toward. They weren’t… nope, yup, shit! The halla and their riders flew as though they had wings, landing lightly and curving back to run the course in the opposite direction. I winced a few times at something I wouldn’t have thought possible, but the pair were laughing and their hallas in high spirits as they finished the course and sat chatting as they walked their steeds to cool them off.

Stupid nosed me harder.

“Nae, you stubborn halla. I’m not riding you through that thing. You want to run it so bad, go have fun.”

He gave me a completely unimpressed look and trotted off with his nose in the air and chimes jingling. My heart ached. But it was far better the beautiful soul stayed far away from me. My eyes burned a little then cleared. I’d always wanted to ride halla just like the guys far below had just done. But against beings we’d actually worshipped as gods because they were just so fucking powerful… in a war I wasn’t going to survive. No.

Just like the wolves that had once bonded with the Emerald Knights, Hallas always went down fighting with their knights, in the ancient days. Always. The kind of magical bond they could offer an elf gave the pair a deep level of communication together not much else could match. A bonded halla died when their friend did. Always. Not because of any sort of magic. But through rock hard loyalty and the fighting spirit of a whole army. Or by grieving themselves to death if not. I swallowed down the ache in my throat.

The wants and dreams I’d had as a child were immaterial. There may not have been actual gods, but my life had been turning me into a weapon to throw at the “gods” throats for so long it felt purposeful, somehow. I would take as few allied people into eternity with me as possible. I’d have plenty of company with my prey. I didn’t want him to die, just because I’d longed for that special bond my whole damned life.

Something I’d read somewhere floated through my mind. A true leader is someone who makes the hard decisions for the benefit of all. Because no one else will.

What was one more hard decision? Just another scar.

I smiled a little sadly. Watching the two handsome Dalish grooming their halla. Hopefully they’d find someone or more than one to build that family they wanted with. They seemed like good el’vhen’lin.

A world where the el’vhen lived free was everything I fought for. It’s what I’d die for. And even if everyone forgot my name afterward. It would be worth it.

Chapter Text

SOLAS

Rook woke up beside me and immediately swore.

‘Good morning to you, as well.’

‘Not pretending to sleep today?’

‘How long was it?’

‘A day and a half or so. You woke enough to drink your tea but not much more than that. I thought you were asleep.’

‘I… not quite. It’s sleep, but deeper. Something el'vhen can put themselves into to decrease healing times. I wasn’t aware most of the time. I appreciate not being murdered in my sleep.’

They growled. And I had to repress a grin. Sule’din and Rook were far more similar in their actions than I’d thought. Completely different personalities, of course. Sule’din rarely growled, but when she did, I wondered if she were about to bite. My beautiful Fen’lan. (She wolf.) Just like I often wondered if Rook bit.

Rook growled much more often, snapped, bitched, but they'd given me the deserved dressing down in the same manner as Sule would when Rook told them. Did Deshanna have a similar manner? I’d only met her once, but if two of her kids had similar traits, it was certainly possible.

‘I wish to beg your forgiveness. My fever affected me more than I had thought. I was not making rational decisions. Tea is wretched, but on average, I wouldn’t have let it stop me if I were ill. I put us both in grave danger.’

‘Hmph .’ Then Rook sighed. ‘You were pretty affected, it’s true. I’ll let it go. Once. Next time you do something so brain-numbed, I’m punching you in that pretty jaw of yours. Ill or not.’

‘Understood.’

‘You’re laughing at me!’

‘Whyever would I do that?’

They sat up and went to the end of the bed to get dressed. I averted my gaze, as always.

‘Why do you do anything, you infuriating jackass?’

‘I wonder this not-infrequently myself.’

They sat at the end of the bed with their back to me once finished dressing, their shoulders slumping. ‘You know. This whole experience has made me long for home. But I haven’t had one of those since I was fifteen.’

‘You will always have a home with Sule, Lahn, and I.’

‘Gallantry before breakfast. Are you sure you’re not still fevered?’ Their sarcastic tone made me repress a smile.

Prickly, irritating, brave, condescending, sharp-tongued… so why did Rook fascinate me so? A new puzzle. And someone Compassion had directly asked me to help. Even if Rook hadn’t been Sule’din’s sib, I’d have done my utmost to help simply because Cole had asked. In over a decade, he’d been a deep source of comfort to me. The only reason I hadn’t been completely alone while I prepared the ritual I’d die in. Fel had only found me around a year ago. And I never let myself grow close to my agents.

‘Is Rook your given name? It’s shorter than most elven names.’ Sule’din had told me, but I wanted to know if Rook would.

They snorted. ‘No. My name is L’in’dir’an’a’e, after the last Emerald Knight. But shiny things have always fascinated me. When I was a kid, it could be anything, the caps on the wheels. The shimmer of water off a puddle surrounded by fall leaves, the reflections in a halla’s eyes, a metal fork, Mamae scolded me quite a bit for stealing that one. I think that’s around the time she started calling me her thieving Rook chick.’ They shrugged a single shoulder. ‘I’ve spent a lot of time around humans. Rook is usually easier than trying to get them to pronounce L’in’dir’an’a’e Ri’ris L’a’v’el’lan Sa’b'r'a'e without butchering it.’

‘Where is the Sa’b'r'a'e from?'

‘One of the people who rescued me and sort of adopted me after my escape is M'e'r'ri'll Sa’b'r'a'e.”

‘I see. I have heard she has a brilliant mind for magical puzzles.’

‘Well, she repaired an el’u’vi’an long before we knew what they were.’

My brows rose. Skilled with magical puzzles indeed. El’u’vi’ans weren’t an incredibly difficult magic, if you knew how to make them. But reverse engineering one was certainly a feat.

‘Do you think you’ll be well enough to leave tomorrow?’

I tested my wounds. Just the faintly stretchy sensation of a new scar. ‘The fever left me weak. If I continue to rest, I shall be fine by tomorrow.’

‘If you need more time, we can take it. They certainly aren’t eager for me to go.’

My heart ached. Rook had always vibrated with anger and hatred. It seemed to power them through life. But their entire body language screamed a defeated sort of nostalgic longing. Shoulders slumped, back curved, head bowed, hands folded in their lap…

‘Nae. I would like to get back to Sule’din and Lahn.’

Somehow, they curled even smaller into themselves. I tried to figure out how I’d somehow hurt them, so I could learn not to do it again.

‘Of course, you do. We’ll leave after I talk to the Keeper. Once she knows my path, she may lecture me, but she’ll likely be happy to see the back of us.’

 ‘He and I need to go after more shards for Sule.’

‘She’s certainly chewing the bit to get back to fighting.’

‘You seem to share that trait as well.’

Rook snorted in bitter amusement. ‘Would you believe I hated it when I was younger? I even hated hunting. But… turns out I’m good at it.’

‘Once the war is over, you could lay down your weapons and walk a different path?’

‘Where do you get your optimism? You seem to actually believe any of us will survive this.’

‘Many people would fall over laughing if they heard you call me optimistic.’

‘Call a pear a pear.’

‘I simply refuse to quit until something or someone makes me quit.’

‘Look at that, something we have in common.’

The corner of my mouth lifted. ‘We share several things in common. You might see that if you stopped hating me.’

Rook shook their head. ‘Hatred and anger are easier.’

‘You will not heal that way.’

‘Oh, fuck you, Solas.’ Their posture straightened into the well-trained and supple position they usually carried themself in. ‘The only healing I’ll ever get is if Falon’din is actually real and he takes my hand to guide me to forever. Maybe I’ll actually stop hurting then.’

‘He’s real.’

‘Why didn’t he escape at the same time as the others?’

‘Falon’din, Dir'th’am’en, me, Shay, and several other e’v’an’u’ris were never imprisoned with the others. Neither was M'y'th'al. We’ve been here or living in the Fade for millenia.’

They snorted. ‘Well, hopefully he’s around when something takes me down.’

The musical jingle of a halla’s chimes came through the bulkhead of the ship.

Rook groaned and their head fell back. “You’re kidding, right? Go home.”

An annoyed snort followed their words.

‘Is that a halla?’

‘No. It’s an Orlesian lady ready for a ball. Of course, it’s a halla.’ They raised their voice a little. “A very stubborn halla who is apparently deaf!”

The halla snorted again.

‘Seems things have been eventful while I slept to heal.’

‘Stupid is insistent on bonding with me. He’s huge, even if I were willing to endanger him by taking him with us, he’s bleeding huge! I’d never be able to feed him.’

‘You named the halla Stupid? They’re almost as smart as El’vhen are.’ Mirth slid through my voice.

‘Well. He’s named after you.’ Sweet acidic sarcasm sliced through their tone and I had to repress a smile. ‘It’s the white skin and purple eyes. Besides, he is stupid if he thinks I’m worth following. All I’ll do is get him killed. And again, bloody huge.’

‘That’s simple enough to remedy. Halla are magically created. They can live within the bounds of the Lighthouse’s lands. It’s no trouble to craft accommodations for him. You could have a whole herd if you wanted one.’

‘You are so lucky he didn’t hear that. I can’t. I refuse to expose such a beautiful soul to the ugliness of this war. Halla bond with their elven friends for life. I don’t survive, neither would he.’

‘Do you actually wish to die? Is that why you’re so convinced you will?’

Their grim laughter held such pain. ‘What the fuck do I have to live for? My next drunk? The next treasure hunt or ship attack? The next anonymous fuck? They won’t miss me, Solas. And I won’t miss this…’

‘This?’

They didn’t answer.

‘Sule’din and your family would be heartbroken to lose you. Lahn would hurt badly. Are they not enough to live and heal for?’

They huffed bitterly. ‘See, this is one reason you might’ve studied Dalish culture. My family held a funeral for me when I swore to walk the shadow path. Ever attend your own funeral? It’s loads of fun. The only person to treat me no differently was Sule. But we’ve always had a deep bond. It probably would’ve snapped something else in me if she’d shunned me, too.’

‘Shunned?’

Rook swallowed audibly and clung to their usual posture by force of will, though the tiniest of tremors went through them.

‘They mourned everything I could be and do for the clan. They cut their hair. They don’t go so far as to not talk to me or not see me, like they’d do for an actual criminal. But… as far as they’re concerned, I’m a dead enby walking. Just a ghost who hasn’t had the decency to stop haunting the living yet.’

‘That seems a harsh punishment for someone walking a path they might eventually choose to change.’

‘You don’t get it. In the entire history since the Dales fell… no one sworn to shadow has returned. Not. One. They’re right. I’m just a dead person walking around until something makes me stop.’

‘Would they not accept your return if you chose a different way?’

‘Oh, they’d be thrilled. Just like Oronevra here. They’d have me popping out babies within a year. Besides. Once you’ve seen your Mamae and Papae look at you as if you were truly a ghost… it wouldn’t work. Not for me.’

‘The inbreeding is that bad?’

‘Is any inbreeding good?’ They shook their head. ‘It’s bad. Las halam’sh’ir. The duty of the Dalish to give to their own. What good am I to them if I won’t give them children?’

‘There are so many other ways to aid people. You’ve been hunting daily since you were well enough. You’re a skilled crafter. You could be a scout, a warrior.’ I frowned. ‘I struggle to comprehend this. We weren’t spurred by inbreeding, true. I’ve never considered limiting a person’s choices based on sex or gender. It would never have been tolerated in Ar’lath’an. Not with M'y'th'al as queen.’

‘You should go to the next ha’rhen’al and lecture them on the freedoms of ancient Ar’lath’an. It’s next summer. You’d have to read the Keeper’s mind to find out where.’ They tilted their head. ‘I understand the reasoning. Most el’vhen’lan and many el’vhen’len capable of it aren’t fussed about it. But there’s always people like me who don’t fit the mould.’

‘Syl’aise and J'u'ne have sworn to our cause. Perhaps Syl’aise’s magic could be of great aid.’

‘Is she as loving and motherly as our stories make her out to be?’

I choked on my suppressed laugh of incredulty. ‘Syl’aise is prideful, driven, extremely intelligent, loves the comforts of a home but won’t lift a finger to make one. Yet loyal to those she claims as hers. She’s claimed the Dalish wearing her marks.’

‘That doesn’t sound good.’

‘I would most Dalish remove their vallas’lin. They aren’t safe wearing them. Damaging the lines so the design is no longer whole would suffice, as well. The only ones who are safer to wear are Falon’din and Dir'th’am’en. They have no interest in controlling the elves.”

‘I wish I could say I was surprised. J'u'ne?’

‘J'u'ne’s laugh could light up an auditorium. And he’s truly impossible to keep a secret from. He’s a skilled crafter and smith. He’s jovial and generally kind. Yet he also forged the weapon that M'y'th'al used to break the world. Even knowing her intentions.’

‘Break the world?’

‘When we return to the Lighthouse, I would like to lend you some books. Perhaps knowing the origins of everything will help you find a way to win.’

‘It pains me to admit it, because you suggested it, but it’s probably a good idea.’

An impatient snort sounded from outside.

“I told you to go home!”

‘I believe you’ve an argument to attempt to win.’

‘Thanks for the vote of confidence, asshole.’ Rook stood and left.

I chuckled at the annoyed expression on their face. They had no idea they’d already lost. I could touch the halla’s mind. No way was Rook leaving him behind.

Chapter Text

ROOK

Stupid had insisted on porting water for me again. Once I had my morning tasks completed, I once again led the halla back to the others. I walked around to stand where he could see me. “Look. I’m heading face first into a war I’m not going to survive. I won’t bring you into that. Stay here and make purple eyed babies.”

‘My Mamae always warned me against picking a stubborn one. Can you hear me yet? No? I’m going with you. A Knight needs a steed. That’s me.’

I utterly refused to admit I could hear him, but… in my head. Maybe it wasn’t too late?

He trotted off only to come back with a saddle blanket draped neatly over his back. The girthstrap lay folded over it.

“You don’t quit, do you?”

‘What kind of a Knightly steed would I be if I did that?’

“Can you hear him yet?” D’r’in moved nigh-silently but I’d still sensed him coming, through the vibrations reaching the halla’s hooves.

I gave an all over body shake in shock.

D’r’in grinned. “Hooves?”

If I’d been wearing unders, they’d have exploded at that grin. That just wasn’t fair. Especially when I couldn’t touch. “That was the weirdest thing I’ve ever experienced in my entire life and I have known some weird-ass shit.”

“It takes some getting used to. But soon it’ll be second nature.”

My shoulders slumped. ‘I can hear you. I truly wish you’d stay here. I’m not likely to survive this war.’

‘Ah. Delightful. My name is Valour. What is yours?’

‘L’in’dir’an’a’e Ri’ris La’v’el’lan Sa’b'r'a'e.’

‘Your odds of surviving go up a great deal with me by your side.’

‘But you’ve got a good life here.’

He snorted and tossed his head. ‘I crave battle. To test my skills against the enemy. My ancestors bore knights into war. I must do the same. It is my calling.’

‘Why are you so determined we run that obstacle course?’

‘The beginning of our training. It will help hone our bond and teach us to move as one.’

I sighed. ‘I won’t do it here. I really haven’t ridden anything since I was seven. I’ll ask Solas to make us one at home. You can design it to your specifications.’

‘Magnificent. This is a lovely solution.’

Why was I being hounded by pale, purple eyed males?

I turned my attention to D’r'in when Valour went to return the pad.

“He’s determined we run the obstacle course. But I haven’t ridden anything but ships since I was seven.”

D’r’in nodded his head toward where a shining white halla stood with her head bowed letting C’i’l work on her horns. “I’m sure one of ours would allow you to ride with one of us, to get the feel of it?”

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. How did I get out of this? I didn’t want them to get attached to me in any way. Then, I sighed internally. No Dalish would reject the offer to ride a halla. Most of us dreamed about doing it.

I drew a deep breath. “Um. Okay? If they wouldn’t mind?”

“Hope is getting C’i’l to work on her horns, let’s see if my Perseverance is up for it.”

Too much of me had started to wish that this role I acted was… real. That the world was truly as simple as it felt ensconced within the arms of my people. But it wasn’t. I envisioned what M'y'th'al would do to D’r’in and what Ghil’an’na’in could easily do to C’i’l. Then I stomped on that struggling weed of desire for a home taking root in the leth’alas of my heart. (Dead earth/blighted earth.) I’d just ruin them both as badly as any of the gods would.

I followed that up with an image of them both laying dead over the necks of their hallas. No. I might not be able to stop Valour. But I could keep from hurting these two.

A large halla trotted up beside D’r’in and poked him with his nose. Perseverance already had a saddle pad neatly arranged on his back.

‘Are you going to be jealous if I let D’r’in and Perseverance give me a riding lesson?’

‘I am in no way that petty. Perseverance is honourable and will keep you safe. I thought we were leaving?’

‘Probably tomorrow morning.’

‘Perseverance’s friend smells of desire for you. Hope’s does as well. Shall we invite them with us? All four are excellent warriors and strongly bonded. They would be a fantastic asset.’

‘No! I won’t bring more people into this war than I have to. The clan will need them. I don’t even want to bring you.’

‘Are you determined to die?’

‘Why do people keep asking me that?’

‘Seems an obvious question, L’in’dir’an’a’e.’

‘What I want has been completely immaterial since I was fourteen. I’ll die fighting or I won’t. I might fall off Perseverance and break my damned neck. Why are you all so big?’

‘We descend from the powerful war halla the knights of ancient Ar’lath’an befriended and fought side by side with.’ Pride almost drooled off his tone.

Make that prideful, pale, purple eyed males.

Beside me, D’r’in had finished buckling the pad in place.

“How will you be most comfortable? Mounting yourself first, or coming up in front of me after I’m on?”

Perseverance had wise, dark eyes like many halla. Sometimes, a bone deep knowledge filled you and you understood that they could see into your soul.

“Probably after. It feels rude to do otherwise.’

“Percy says he doesn’t mind. But that’s okay.”

D’r’in easily leapt to his friend’s back without bothering to use the stirrups.

I looked at the problem, then tucked my foot into the stirrup and threw my other leg high over Perseverance’s neck, neatly avoiding his wickedly sharp horns. I settled lightly on the pad and D’r’in lined our bodies up like I really wished I could drag him off into the forest to do. His warmth bled into me through his leather pants and halla wool shirt. His leg wraps scratched against the leather of my leggings with a familiar, comforting scraping sound.

I hadn’t worn wraps in years. I missed them.

Hallas didn’t wear bridles. No saddles either. Just a pad with a belly band and some stirrups. Both D’r’in and I rested our hands on our thighs.

“The grown halla are so small in the south, you couldn’t ride them, even if they could carry an adult, without losing something to a horn.” I looked up. Perseverance’s horns were at least a foot and a half above my head. “I’ve never seen any so big. Always was a bit confused at how they were ridden to battle. But the Oronevra halla are as big or bigger than a war destrier a human might ride.”

‘And ten times as graceful.’

Yup. Definitely prideful.

D’r’in's deep voice rumbled against my back, giving me all sorts of ideas I really shouldn’t be having. Oh, but burnt sails, I wanted to.

“Oronevra and several other Northern clans are often considered odd that we encourage the older lines. Our territory is large enough for us to find enough space and fodder. Other clans aren’t so lucky. If you look closely at the herd, you'll see the several different types. There're long, sleek, and fast halla, those more suited to gentle pleasure riding, swift, smaller hunting types, and of course, the war halla.”

Percy stepped out and I repressed a gasp. I’d been far higher than this before. I’d tumble fine if I fell. But I couldn’t deny I was grateful for D’r’in’s warm chest behind me.

“Slide your feet into the stirrups. I don’t need them unless we’re running the course. I adjusted them for your height.”

I swallowed and did as asked.

“Good. Brace your foot on the ball and drop your heel. Tuck your legs close to his sides. Keep the heel dropped. It gives you better balance and a good footing when you need to stand up.”

His soft instructions helped. I couldn’t have even told anyone why this unnerved me so. I’d been the kid who’d clung like a tick to any halla willing to play friends with me.

I shifted my hips then froze when I realized I’d just rubbed my ass across his crotch.

“Sorry. Um. I’m not used to something so wide between my… you know. I’m just gonna not say the rest of that sentence. I’d like to maintain at least a smidgen of dignity.”

D’r’in's bark of laughter made me smile. It shouldn’t have.

“It’s okay, Ri’ris. I gather you’ve been through a great deal. And they are wider than southern halla. Your hips and tendons adjust to that, too.”

“Ri’ris is my middle name. I didn’t recognize your sails. My first name is L’in’dir’an’a’e.”

“It fits you. You couldn’t have known if you didn’t recognize our colours. You were wise to protect yourself. Do southern children not learn all of them?”

“Oh, no. We do. I… missed those years of instruction. And I’m a long way from home.”

“It has to be hard, being away from your people for so long.”

Percy walked along steadily, letting me get used to the way he felt.

“It’s strange. When your every thought is on avoiding being hurt, and just… staying alive. You don’t recognize how much you miss until you encounter it again. I’m afraid I must’ve sounded like a complete twit the night you brought me in. I kept rambling about nothing to your grandmother.” I shook my head. “I almost cried at seeing hearthcakes and halla curd again.”

Well… my eyes had teared up, anyway.

“The feel of Halla wool, the sound of their horn chimes, the taste of our foods, our music, and dances. I missed all of it. Far more than I ever thought. At times, as a child, I wondered what it might be like to live different lives. But nothing can ever truly replace home. Not once it’s gone.”

“You could make a new home?”

“I don’t want to go back south. I wouldn’t fit with my clan after… I just wouldn’t fit. If I could ever have a home again, it would need to be a clean slate.”

His voice had a gentle teasing to it. “There’s plenty of room here in the north.”

“I… was badly abused, El’and’r’in. There… they spared me nothing. I’m fundamentally broken in ways…”

“C’i’l and I once helped a swan with a broken wing. He has a gentle touch and animals always tend to trust him. Most people would put a bird with a broken wing out of its misery. But she healed. With time, patience, and care. And she flew with her flock the next year.”

If only it were just a broken wing and not a broken everything.

“I think our parents just about strangled both of us. They made us keep her at ha'mamae's because swans aren’t the neatest of creatures.”

A sound similar to a laugh gurgled in my throat. “Shat all over the place, huh?”

“She did indeed. Kept threatening Mamae with her beak open.” He chuckled. “Ha’mamae (old mother/grandmother) A'sh'all'e had that swan toddling down the plank to do her business outside ‘like a lady’ within a week.”

“Did that anger your mother?”

“Nae. She just threw her hands up and muttered about foundlings and training wild creatures as if they were pets. C’i’l's gentleness helped our swan heal. I helped her learn to fly again. She did me the grand favour of not shitting on Percy and me while we ran round and round so she could exercise her wings.”

I snorted, and another almost laugh caught in my chest. “He’s so dignified. How did you get him to do that?”

“How do you get a halla to do anything?”

My lips tugged up, and, in sync, we both spoke the refrain to a joke probably as old as Ar’lath’an.

“Ask them!”

It was tiny, but real. A laugh. Not a chuckle or a giggle, but a real laugh. Solas had perhaps cracked something inside me. Like my stupid head. Rook, what are you doing?

“Aihee. I haven’t heard that one in too long.”

“Feeling comfortable enough to try a faster pace?”

Sometime when we’d been chatting I’d relaxed enough to sway with D’r’in’s body.

“Just don’t let me break my head open.”

His murmured words held levels of meaning. “I’ve got you, L’in’dir’an’a’e. You can trust me.”

Percy trotted for a bit, completely unlike the ungainly horses humans used. Almost dancing on his split hooves.

“Here comes a faster run.”

Percy switched into the bounding gate hallas were known for. D’r’in wrapped an arm around my waist to steady me, snuggling us closer together. The sheer power Percy leapt off with and the grace he touched Alas on the downbeat terrified me.

It felt like freedom. A freedom I hadn’t found in the entire time since I’d escaped.

As we rode him, everything fell away but the movement of the halla, the warm, strong male at my back, the wind in my face and lifting my hair. It all just… nothing else mattered in that moment except the bond between halla and elf, the graceful leaping bounds, the expression of power and control both Percy and D’r’in had… I couldn’t let myself want this so damned badly. But for a moment, I closed my eyes and flew.

C’i’l’s hands were warm around my waist when we returned to the top of the hill. He ducked his head and glanced at me from under his lashes. He wore his courting sash around his waist. Shy, but sails in a gale, I could get lost in those soft, warm brown eyes. And firm muscles sheathed in dark brown skin made me ache to nibble. Just a little. Maybe a lot.

“You’ll be riding the course in no time.”

I smiled a little sadly at C’i’l, because, no, I wouldn’t.

D’r’in brushed down Percy and told him he’d take the pad back. The halla leapt back down the hill to join the herd as if we’d just been out for a pleasure walk.

Dusk crept along the world like a lady pulling a soft blue shawl over her shoulders.

When D’r’in returned, I bowed to him with my arms crossed over my chest. “Ma serrana. I’m not as nervous anymore.”

He'd draped his red and white sash over a shoulder. He grinned that panties melting grin and I looked away. Down at the herd. This might be my last chance to see a halla herd. I took a few steps toward them.

One of the bucks lifted his head, exposing his long, supple neck as he tilted his head back. His bass note signaled the others. Before long, each halla had raised their head.

My breath caught in my throat on an ugly, wet sound and I wrapped my arms around my waist.

Each halla’s clear voice added to it. Halla’su'lahn. The song of the halla. Haunting, extraordinary, setting the hairs up all over my skin. I hadn’t heard it for so long. And only twice before. They didn’t often sing. You’d think a herd of trumpeting deer wouldn’t sound awesome, but halla only looked like deer.

They harmonized, the bucks carried a deep through line. The younger does’ voices, high and sweet overlay the older does’ softer, more mellow calls. The youngsters thumped their hooves and some tapped in rhythm against stones. The sound of the ringing, bell like strikes rounded it all off.

Their song told the story of the herd. Of their bloodline’s history. Of dusky nights and dew spangled mornings, of tender grasses and sun warm on their backs. Of the heart thumping enjoyment of a good run, and the soft, peaceful serenity of the moment between the leap and the landing. It swelled, dipped, and danced. I hadn’t heard anything so heart-wrenchingly beautiful in a long time.

It was goodbye. I didn’t know how I knew, but they were telling me and Valour goodbye. Sending their love with us. Their hope for our success. For they’d be imprisoned by the evil e’v’an’u’ris, too. As they had been of old.

Despite some of our myths, the halla had existed long before the Dalish. Old paintings showed them in ancient Ar’lath’an, bearing terrifyingly stunning warriors on their backs and pulling ara’v’el.

The halla sang. I reached up to swat an annoying bug off my cheek. My fingers met wet warmth and I pulled them away in shock. A single, impossible tear. I tasted it to be sure.

The halla had managed to make me cry.

Chapter Text

ROOK

“Then'a!” Screamed a voice before it gurgled to silence. My eyes flew open and I rolled to the floor of the ara’v’el. Ever since the groping incident, I’d taken to wearing my support top and short, thigh hugging leather pants to bed.

A scream slid through the night. “Fuck. Attack!” I raised my voice as I scrambled for my knives. Damnit. I wanted my bow and sword and my bloody armour. “Then'a! Attack!”

My call started echoing from nearby. I carefully climbed out of the hatch above my head that led to the top deck. I crawled on my belly until I could peak through the rails. Raiders. My jaw clenched when I caught sight of a semi-familiar face. An elven Lord of Fortune I’d met a few times. Cracked masts. Isabela would have his balls for this. If I didn’t kill him first. I growled under my breath. Armed slavers flooded the camp and if I’d had my bow, I could’ve been picking them off.

No help for it. I grabbed the back railing and flipped myself over it to carefully, and quietly roll down to a soft drop in the shadows. I palmed my knife handles and let bloodlust surge through me.

I took out several in the rear before they figured out someone attacked from there. The early warning call had let the Dalish wake enough to put up a reasonable defense.

It wouldn’t be enough. I curled my lip at an attacker with his hand buried in La'na'y'a’s red hair. She fought, making it hard on him, but again, against people experienced in taking slaves…

I narrowed my eyes, planning my moves. Two knives, no armour, if I wanted to help people, I needed to stay moving, and be fast, or someone would easily take me out with as little as I wore.

Then I ran. I slid between the legs of one attacker, shoving my knife in a quick stab, in and out, into his balls. I kipped up and turned it into a forward dive roll. My heels took out the face of another, the crunch of his nose against my bare foot incredibly satisfying as I drove it up into his brain.  

Landing on my feet I immediately jumped the sword another enemy swung at me. When I landed, I jabbed my blade into his throat and tore it out.

“Go hide.” I nudged La'na'y'a with my bare toe, keeping watch for other enemies.

She nodded frantically and ran toward the darkness of an ara’v’el.

A flash of white warned me just as Valour said, ‘Kindly don’t disembowel me.’

Ka-thunk, ka-thunk went halla hooves against tamped down soil and I had to shut my mouth as Valour soared over me as if he had wings. Others bearing riders or racing to meet their friends washed past me like a fast moving current in a wide river.

In the distance, closer to the inner circle, an almost naked El’and’r’in leapt onto Percy’s bare back with practiced ease. C'i’l and Hope not far behind.

Our halla didn’t fight. Even if they’d wanted to, it would’ve been too easy to kill one, so most Southern clans asked them to protect the herd.

These ancient type behemoths, were, however, utterly deadly.

Valour, I don’t know how I knew it was him in the stream of halla who’d come to our aid, slashed an enemy across the eyes with his horns, trampled them, then reared and drove his sharp hooves into the neck of another before leaping away.

A pair of high pitched screams came from the direction of the Master Crafter’s and it yanked me out of my extremely foolish stupour in the middle of a battle. I belted another attacker with a dagger graced upper cut as I ran toward the childish cries.

These assholes hadn’t expected much, if any resistance. One had an arm around the waists of two of the crafter’s young children. My fists hurt hitting the ground as I dive rolled to give myself momentum. My feet hit the ground and I pushed off to land with my legs on his shoulders. I savagely raked my daggers both ways across his eyes, then slammed them home into his throat. He tottered like a falling building, so I flipped over his front by bracing my hands on his head. Blood gouted and I landed in time to grab the kids before they were buried under the body. I stood them up on their feet. “Shhh. You need to be brave. See that ara’v’el?” The elder nodded. “I need you to go crawl under it and stay as quiet as little mice. Okay? Can you do that for me?”

Dalish kids knew. The eldest grabbed the younger and ran where I'd told them to. The shadows were deep enough they wouldn’t be likely to be seen.

I watched to make sure they hid as asked without an attacker seeing them as I picked up one of my daggers and the enemy’s decent short sword. Better. I looked up at the back of the ship where an Ironwood bow and a quiver of arrows hung. I stole the enemy’s weapons belt, missing my custom fitted one. Then, I strung the bow and buckled the quiver around my thigh and waist.

I took a moment to listen. Fuck. Fighting came from all sides. This raid obviously intended to take out the whole extended camp. They must have been planning this for some time to have these numbers. We didn’t have enough warriors to deal with this. Not even with the halla.

A sad half smile tilted the corner of my mouth up. It would’ve been nice to see Sule and Lahn again. See Shay… but peace beckoned. Hopefully, if he survived this, Valour hadn’t known me long enough to grieve himself to death.

I’d go down fighting then, helping my people. It’s all I was good for. Death. I dropped my chin and bared my teeth. Then I ran toward where the fighting was thickest. I left a trail of corpses and dying raiders behind me.

Several times, I caught a glimpse of El’and’r’in and C’i’l either expertly shooting enemies from their hallas’ racing backs, or sometimes twisting with them as the hallas fought just as well as they did. Valour had dyed himself red with enemy blood the times I caught glimpses of him. I twisted, flipped, dived, and rolled between attacks. Everything and anything to stay alive longer to take as many of them with me on my long walk as possible.

I stumbled to a stop. Even as conditioned as my body was, my lungs worked hard for air from all the tumbling I’d had to do to avoid weapons. I still hadn’t managed to dodge everything. An ara’v’el’s sails were on fire, casting light through the Oronevra camp. More fire gleamed in the distance at the other camps. Dalish fought to defend, or to avoid being taken in every direction.

My sister’s idiot bond mate stood in the centre of a massive cluster of raiders. I knocked an arrow, but before I could draw, every enemy standing close to him turned to stone. Then a flash of silver glowing eyes turned them to dust.

I almost sent him a blistering dressing down before I noticed.

That wasn’t Solas.

Long red hair clipped close at the sides, with numerous thin braids capped in jewelled gold mixed with the rest falling freely down his back. The gold plated skeletonized snout and canines of a wolf decorated his forehead. Heavy, Ar’lath’an era rings pierced both ears to the tips. A circular nose ring rested against his face. His colouring had changed, just slightly different. His pale skin glowed with an inner light. His eyes were metallic silver-white and… smoking.

Darkness in the form of a pair of shadowy wings formed a flowing, moving cloak that pulled attackers into it, where they choked and died. He wore a leather necklace with a wolf jawbone on it. Swirling, primal tattoos covered his upper arms, shoulders, back, and gold bracers protected his wrists.

Valles’lin heavily reminiscent of a wolf’s face decorated his. Tall, broad, and as perfectly cut as an Orlesian statue, he stood on long, strong legs and bare feet. A thin, red leather loincloth all he had on. Light glinted off gold jewellery in his nipples and navel. He held a staff glowing with silvery magic in one hand with the other held out wide and upright. Balancing three separate magical workings I couldn’t even begin to comprehend.

That wasn’t Solas. That was Fen’har’el.

He just casually stood there being every Dalish’s wet dream… er… nightmare. Yeah. That. Nightmare. And holy halla dick, his power made my teeth buzz. I’d been insulting that?

I was most definitely, absolutely, the stupid one.

Good thing I didn’t have much in the way of self-preservation instinct. ‘What are you doing! We’re supposed to be in hiding! You know? Hiding? Like the opposite of standing in the middle of a battle glowing like some sort of I don’t even know fucking what!’ I moved past him and started picking enemies off with throat shots.

‘Our people have prayed for answers from silent gods for millenia. They prayed for help tonight, even from one such as me. I am answering. Dread Wolf take them. And so I shall.’

‘I thought you weren’t a god.’ Nasty, oily sarcasm dripped off my phrase.

‘I am not. But for them, I shall play the role they need me to play. In this changing world, they need something to believe in.’

Fen’har’el sent one of the intricate circles of magic to slice past me. It took out a swath of attackers, slicing through them at neck height. Great wolves of shadow howled and tore into attackers and herded them from hiding places to find sharp horns or other bared weapons waiting for them. Every wolf had gleaming silver eyes.

I just pressed my lips together and kept shooting enemies. Moving forward through the firelit camps, Fen’har’el’s light bathing my shoulders as he followed me. Whenever I ran out of arrows, I found another quiver just by glancing around. We fought until there weren’t any more to kill. Fen’har’el casually took out a group for every single kill of mine.

Yup. I was most assuredly the stupid one.

Wooooah, okay. I couldn’t call myself a red blooded elf if that wasn’t fucking hot.

The keening had started behind me as people looked for loved ones. It was far from the first time I’d heard it, and it sent chills over me that made me shiver. I'd followed the trail of giant smoking wolf prints burnt into the ground until they just stopped. Determined to find the ass, I’d searched until I found him, but hadn’t been at all prepared for that.

Solas stood in a waterfall, rinsing away the grime from the battle. The water slid lovingly over every bulge and dip. It was cold enough that his nipples had hardened. Thank my Mamae’s hearthcakes that the pool he stood in came up to his waist. I really didn’t need to know if the fuck-he’s-hot went all the way down. I rolled my eyes and found some soapwort for him.

‘Here.’ I held it out.

He turned, a waiting look graced his once again purple eyes.

‘I’m not going to run, or fawn all over you. You’re still an asshole.’

He flashed an entirely too charming grin before taking the offering.

‘I need to get back to help with recovery. People were likely killed, so instead of leaving tomorrow morning, we’ll leave after the funerals.’

He dropped his chin in acceptance.

‘You might want to keep yourself out of sight even as Su’lan. That’s not an association we need people making.’

I turned and went back toward the ululations of grief and victory.

Dawn light caressed the smoking camp with pale pink, peach, and rose. Dew had fallen while people died. Uncaring of the exigencies of mortal deaths.

In the distance, I could see the Master Crafter, still in a night shift, frantically checking bodies. I jogged to the ara’v’el I’d told her kids to hide under, squatted down and smiled at the tikes. “Gara’as, da’vhen. (Come, little ones) Your Mamae is looking for you.”

I held out my hands and once each had crawled out they grabbed on. The place my heart should’ve been twisted a little. Such tiny hands, so trustingly put in mine, the trust they’d shown me in hiding where I’d said and waiting until it was safe to come out. Dalish kids were amazing. So brave.

I led them toward where their mother still searched, lifting attackers’ bodies when necessary to look under them. The kids started calling as soon as they saw her. My throat choked up at the look of utter relief on her face when she lifted it to see me leading them back to her. She ran a few stumbling steps to get out of that particular mire of bodies. Then her knees hit the ground and the kids threw themselves into her arms. “Ma Serrana, Ri’ris.” Her eyes overflowed, tracking more streaks through the smokey grime. “Ar ame’lin ma’da’vhen atish. (Thank you, Ri’ris. For keeping my little ones safe.)

I smiled, the smells of damp charcoal, blood, sweat, the sore muscles, the sadness I’d felt at believing I wouldn’t survive, every single bit of extremis had been worth it for this family to be brought back together.

“Len ma’las na'lan, Master Crafter.” (My blood is your blood.) The tacky nastiness all over me had grown sticky. “Your bond-mate, and other child?”

She sniffed. “Eth. Serrana’sa Ris’ame. (Safe. Thanks to Ris'ame.) He got the warning to us before…” She looked down and swallowed.

“I heard him, too. Falon’Din ena’sal enaste. Ir abel’as, n’ashir, ma vhen. Ris’ame den’ar ame’lin var’vhen. El’u’vi’ar’len en’a’dar bel’las’adra. Lin en’a’te’loth. Leth’an’i’vir en’a ghil’an’a len’vir la’uth’as. (Falon’din fill this place with blessing. I am sorry for your loss, my kin. Ris’ame died protecting the blood of our people. His sacrifice will be forever honoured. He will not be forgotten. Leth’an’i’vir will guide his path to forever.)

I looked up as she cuddled her children close. A frown pinched my brow. Most, by far the most dead were the raiders. Dalish moved through the camps, helping each other in the breaking dawn. I went to work on the closest pile of bodies.

‘Do you have something to do with why so few Dalish died?’

‘Will you yell at me if I did?’

‘Of course not.’ Though I did tend to scold him like a cranky fish-wife. Ugh. ‘Well?’

‘The scouts were dead before I could do anything. But everyone else should have survived. The first spell I cast made them invulnerable to wounds for a short time. Long enough to fight them off.’

My eyes burned and my throat choked up. 'Ma serrana, Solas. Are you safe?’

‘Resting in the ara’v’el. There are dead slavers in the forest. None escaped.’

I shook my head and laid hold of a raider’s ankles. I dragged him from the heap of bodies. This one was a bit drippy. One of the shadow wolves had bitten right through him. Stripping the dead bothered some people, but I’d seen so much death it was just another day in my life. Boots went in one pile. Armour in another, clothes were separated out by tops, bottoms, and foot coverings. Weapons were sorted by type.

Pouches and jewellery were tossed into a different pile. The contents of those would be split amongst those who had lost someone first, especially coin. Nothing would return their loved ones, but gold spent, just the same.

Once I’d stripped a corpse, I dragged it to the side. I had a pile of them stacked like cord-wood in no time.

Retching sounds came from behind me as I looked for another pile to sort. La'na'y'a was trying to help, and puking up everything she’d eaten the past week. I grabbed a bucket of water and ladle and took them over to her. Her green eyes, so like her brother’s, were wide and shocky, her creamy skin a ghost white.

Once she’d rinsed her mouth she whispered, “You saw him. Right? I wasn’t hallucinating? I’m certain I’m not the only one who prayed for the Dread Wolf’s vengeance to take them, but I never thought I’d ever actually… you saw him?”

Who, boy. If she’d seen everything I had. “I saw him, La'na'y'a. I’m pretty sure everyone saw him. You don’t forget seeing something like that. The Master Crafter told me some of the scouts died. El’and’r’in will be hurting. Why don’t you go find him and let me deal with this. It doesn’t bother me.”

She tilted her head, obviously wondering why it didn’t. But she ducked her head in thanks and hurried away.

‘Are you okay?’

‘Simply dashing, as one would expect. I’m about to have a nice wallow in the river to get rid of the evidence of my heroics.’

I shuddered all over as cold washed over me from someone rolling in the river far enough away I couldn’t come close to seeing even a flash of white.

‘Oh, that’s cold. You were very heroic. And fought like a warrior of old.’ Valour preened in my mind. ‘I’ll leave you to it. Wait… did Ris’ame’s halla…?’

‘T’is odd, that. As one would expect, she felt him go. As did the other four. They alerted the herd, and then she fought as hard as she could hoping someone could send her to join her friend. She still lives, and uninjured. All of the murdered friends’ hallas do.’

‘Ah. Oronevra will help.’

‘As is their duty. We halla shall help ours prepare for dawn.’

‘Were you hurt?’

‘Nae. Simply tired. I shall graze and sleep unless you need me.’

I glanced at the bodies. ‘Unfortunately, this is a task for hands. Sleep well.’

Boots, armour, weapons, shirts, pouches, jewellery, over and over again, those comfortable with the job stripped and stacked corpses. Once we were done, I lent my strength to help get them to the cliff edge overlooking the Nocen sea. These people didn’t deserve honour, words, or good wishes to carry them to the next life. We paid them as much care as they’d have given us. A pair of us grabbed each by the wrists and ankles and tossed them off the cliff. The fish and crabs would eat well that night. I suggested that elven Lord of Fortune for marionette duty. And I personally harvested his ball sack. I’d cure it as a gift for Isabela. Seeing a traitor’s sack as a coin purse at her waist would send a strong message. We didn’t help slavers. Isabela had extremely firm rules for her group, the Lords of Fortune, and that was one of the most important. No enslavement. People were not property.

After that, I helped consolidate the piles in the central area where the four camps met. No one other than the four Keepers would touch the jewellery and pouches, but everything else was anyone’s for the taking. I sorted through the weapons to grab a couple more finely made knives, a short sword, and a slightly longer blade. I’d returned the beautifully crafted Ironwood bow, so I found a prettily decorated back carry quiver and a fine bow with shell inlay and gold chasings of sea serpents. Then I sorted through sets of armour until I had a set of shiny black leather armour that should fit with minimal adjustments. I grabbed the same for Solas if I thought something might fit after a good washing. I dropped it all off at the ara’v’el.

I put my hands on my lower back and stretched. Then I eased the knotted muscles in my shoulders.

‘You should rest.’

‘Only when we’re finished. I have more stamina than a lot of elders, and they’re still helping.’

Solas didn’t respond.

I spent the rest of the excruciatingly long morning and afternoon helping where I could. Luckily, none of the ara’v’els had been completely destroyed. Many had lost sails, some would need repair, but when weighed against the sheer, overwhelming numbers, all the camps had come out far better than they should’ve. Other than the brave scouts, no one had been taken, harmed. Even all the halla and most of the cats had survived. I repressed a smile. Of course, he’d remembered the cats. Several of whom had joined the battle in defense of their families. The only ones who hadn't had been the perimeter guard cats. The raiders had somehow found our secretive little friends.

The sun sank into the sea as I found a place amongst many others at the river to bathe. Those in charge of the hearths had been seeing the workers fed throughout the day, and one handed me a towel and a bar of sweetly scented soap. I stripped out of my support top and shorts and held both up with a moue of disappointment. I’d just finished making these. And now they were dark with blood. Ugh. Well. Washing the leather would get some of it off, then I could work it to get rid of the stiffness. But they were hopelessly stained.

I waded into the fast moving, blessedly cold water and washed my clothes, then me. It took a good couple of rounds to get off the blood. And I hissed more than once at the soap finding a wound I hadn’t been aware of. None needed stitches, so whatever. What were a few more scars? I got them clean, then gently squeezed my hair out over the river. I left the soap and towel on a rock still radiating the sun’s warmth.

After sliding into my sleep shirt, I went to the communal firepit, hopeful, and yes, the scent of roasting meat had come from there. A hearth keeper who must have been related to El’and’r’in and La'na'y'a, by the resemblance, smiled tiredly at me, and served a large portion of meat to me. Then handed me a huge bowl full of halla curd. I thanked her and made my way back to the ara’v’el.

Solas lay on the bed with a cat curled up on either side of his healed waist, and another on his chest. His long, narrow fingers made it purr.

‘I’ve food. You must be hungry. There’s no way I’ll be able to eat it all.’

‘Ma seranna.’

Once we’d finished, I put the heavier bones in the dog dish, like anyone with a dog might do, and tossed the rest into the slops bucket. I groaned when I stood, but I didn’t want to smell trash all night. I searched around looking for anything else that needed disposing of, then held up my poor outfit. “I just finished making this.” I sighed and hung it on the clothing rack to dry before pulling on the doeskin pants and long, flowing shirt.

Then I hauled the bucket to the latrine, dumped it, took it to the lower river and rinsed it.

“You’re safe.” Relief filled El’and’r’in’s voice. He too had cleaned up and wore simple camp clothes. His red and white sash wrapped twice around his lean waist.

“I’m hard to kill.”

“I could tell. I saw you fighting. Where’d you learn all those dives and tumbles?”

The corner of my mouth kicked up. “My Papae taught me the basics to help me control my emotions. I get restless if I’m not moving or doing something. I’m almost always practicing or training. I’m a bear to be around, otherwise.”

“C’i’l is like that. It helps him, too.”

“You and C’i’l fight as well as Valour said you did. I saw you both, too.”

“Is that his name? We were all wondering what it was. Stubborn creature. Most halla will at least scratch out something to call them by. But not that one. He’s variously been dubbed purple, asshole, stubborn, and yellow horn after he misjudged a leap as a yearling and landed in a field full of pollen.”

“I may have called him stubborn already.”

D’r’in walked companionably with me to the ara’v’el, our arms bumping once in a while. Someone was going to be very lucky when he found the right person or people to settle down with.

I turned to him. “I’m sorry about your scouts. They saved so many lives.”

He smiled sadly. “Falon’din ghil'an’a Ris’ame la’uth’as. (Falon’din guide Ris’ame to forever.) We lost Ris'ame and several cat friends. Other camps more. Though, I must admit I’d never expected to see any of our gods with my own eyes. And Fen’ha’rel at that.”

“The Ghil’an’a Bel’lan’a’ris sent word around. Not long before…” I shook my head at my almost slip. “She told us all that the gods would return. And that they would not be as we have thought.”

“Given our tales of him, it was a shock to find him fighting with us. How badly have the tales been twisted, I wonder?”

I raised my brows. I’d lay every piece of gold I owned betting that the answer was all of them. And badly.

D’r’in rotated his sword arm. Obviously as sore as me. “If they’re back… I suppose we’ll find out.”

I bowed my head with a small nod. “Dawn will come early. I’m glad you’re safe. Is C’i’l?”

“He’s fine. Pulled or sore muscles like the rest of us fighters.”

“Is La'na'y'a feeling better?”

“She is. She told me you sent her to find me. You could’ve come?”

My chest ached. The more I got to know D’r’in, the more I almost wished I were anyone but who I actually was. That I could be that young, happy Dalish he’d danced with at the gathering. Or the broken bird he’d thought I was when he’d taken me riding. Someone to build a life with. That I had the right… pieces to be a functional part of a Dalish community. But. Truth is a bitch, and she bites. I wasn’t anything he needed. And everything he didn’t.

I shrugged a shoulder. “Handling the dead doesn’t bother me. And it did her. Plus, you probably needed each other. Poor La'na'y'a wasn’t having a very good time of it.”

“So you spared her the gruesome task and took it on yourself.” He looked down at the ground. “She said you saved her from being dragged off last night. There will never be anything you need that you can’t ask of me, in return. She’s the baby of the family. She hasn’t seen much violence, and very little death.”

I smiled sadly. “I’ve seen a lot of both. Anyway. We should get what rest we can. The horn will call before dawn.”

He nodded, then bowed to me with crossed arms before moving away.

I went inside. Solas lay piled under cats again. I ached. I’d strained some muscles in the fighting. And burning sails, was I tired. I almost wished I’d kept the halla balm.

‘You could come back. Once the war is over.’

I snorted. ‘And curse the poor male with having to endure me?’ I shook my head as I undressed. ‘He’s far too good for someone like me.’

‘When you say, someone like you, what do you mean?’

I hesitated. It was so much easier when I stayed angry at him. At everything, really. The anger kept the pain slightly numbed. But I absolutely owed him for last night. I turned and crawled up on the bed. I tucked the sleep shirt between my thighs. The cats scattered at my approach.

I opened everything I was, inside. ‘Look in my eyes, Solas. And see. Ar ban’a vhen. Ar'dar’mis’u, bor’assan, dal’than’aan, dar’mis’aan. Ar din el’vhen em’ma him. Ir sa tel’nal. Ar e’l’l’as’in s’el’ah. Ar tel’hanin. Ma’sule’na tel’lath. Ma'sule’v’in na'din. (I’m a ruined person. I’m a dagger, a bow, a battle axe, a sword. I transformed myself into the dead. I am empty, full of nothing. I am a weapon. I’m honourless. My endurance is hatred. My purpose is death.) I’m a gleeful murderer, I’d rather kill an enemy than leave them alive. And. I. Enjoy. It. Lath’ah’la’ma. (I love to kill.) I sleep better after killing than I do most nights. I’m a good assassin, a skilled thief, I’ve willfully tortured, and I’d do it again. I’m a pirate and Lord of Fortune. I left any semblance of good behind a long time ago. Even if I survive this war, I’ll go down fighting in some nameless battle somewhere because those things are all that’s left inside me. It’s all they left me. I wouldn’t wish me on my worst enemy. Much less someone as good and pure as El’and’r’in.’

I hated it when Solas’s eyes were kind. Absolutely hated it.

‘Tel’a’nad’as. (Nothing is inevitable.) Halla do not choose dark, irreparable souls. They cannot, in fact, do so. Even internal wounds like that can heal, given enough time and care.’

I rolled my eyes and climbed into bed on top of the sheet. ‘Please. When someone is as fucked up as I am… there’s no healing that. Name one person who’s been as badly broken as me who’s healed until they were functional.’

He pulled an arm up to pillow his head on, but kept holding eye contact. ‘Someone you know very well. Lahn.’

‘Lahn? Seriously now. Lahn’s a settle down and love someone ‘til their eyes cross type. You can’t be both, Solas. Broken to shit, unable to laugh or cry. And someone as caring and loving as Lahn has been since the day I met him.’

‘That’s where the healing comes in. If you don’t believe me, ask him yourself.’

‘Sure, I’ll do that. Now let me sleep. The funeral horn will sound before dawn.’ I hesitated. ‘Would you like to come? It’ll be very Dalish. It’s probably wise to show yourself as Su’lan a bit. But we can go visit the herd tomorrow, so you don’t need to get up early if you don’t want to.’

‘You are not a failure when someone dies, Rook.’

I threw a pillow at his face. ‘Who the hell else’s fault would it be? Shut up and let me sleep.’

Chapter Text

SOLAS

Rook was awake and dressed when the low, rumbling bellow of a horn of some sort sounded.

‘You cleaned my outfit? It’s pristine.’

‘You seemed upset at the loss. Restorative magic is something I don’t get to use often.’

‘Ma seranna. How do you feel?’

‘I can shift, cast, and travel.’

They nodded brusquely. ‘Can halla go through the el'u'vi'ans? I lost the argument.’

I didn’t make the mistake of letting them see my desire to grin. That was not a fight I wanted to have.

‘They can. They’re far more than deer.’

‘Might’ve noticed with Valour yapping in my head. You said you could make accommodations for him?’

‘Easily.’

They nodded. ‘I’ll speak to the Keeper after the funerals. Usually, it would be polite to stay for the celebration. But I doubt they’ll want me there. Everyone they lost, their favourite foods and drinks will be served. Favourite music and dances played. We celebrate who they were. In case their spirits linger for a time.’ They tilted their head from where they sat on the bedding. ‘Unless you’re like me. Then they just mourn.’

I shifted to my wolf.

‘Thank the sails the changes are still there. I don’t know if I’d have been able to do it again.’

‘No, they’ll be permanent until someone changes me back, or I can find someone willing to suppress my magic long enough to do it myself’.

‘Wait. So mages can change themselves?’

‘If certain specific conditions are met, yes. There are very few hard and fast rules for working with magic.’

Rook growled and rested their forehead in their hands. ‘Why can’t anything be simple? With clear rules everyone actually follows?’

‘Intelligent beings are too complicated.’

The horn sounded a second time. ‘We should go.’ They hesitated. ‘The halla bonded with those they lost. It will look like blood sacrifice. It’s not. It’s a kindness. And part of our duty to them. They expect our help in these situations. If we don’t help, they mourn themselves to death. Is it okay if I hold your collar as if you were a real dog? Fresh blood might make even a well behaved dog…’

‘If we put it back on, that is acceptable.’

‘Shit, right.’

I dug out his collar and laced it in place. ‘The story is that you’ve been sick with a fever for several days. Try to act weak but healed?’

‘Ma nuven’in.’ (As you wish.) Rook… there would be a slight chance for uth’en’e'r'a, if they have a store of lyrium… but it would reveal us.’

‘How much of a chance?’

‘I cannot be certain. But likely small to none. They wouldn’t have Lahn and I to guide them back home. We will need to create safe places for the elders to sleep again. And even many who entered uth’en’e'r'a never returned. They simply abandoned their mortal forms. The World of Dreams, the Deep Fade… it’s paradise. We can each create our desired life there, and find our beloved ones.’

They took a deep breath. ‘Let them have their eternity. It sounds… so peaceful.’

Then they lowered the gangplank. They led the way and we joined the stream of people that eventually spilled us into a wide open meadow.

ROOK

The five scouts who had died to save their people lay in wide, deep cradles of Alas. Each clean, dressed in their best, their armour and weapons with them. In between them were graves for the cat scouts. They each wore a necklace with a seed of their preferred tree. I reached up and touched my throat, right at the v of my clavicle. When had I even lost mine?

Clan members visited each and left grave goods. Things for the spirit to take for the journey. Each of the deceased wore a thick, white halla wool cloak.

When everyone had finished, The Keeper rested two things in each grave. An oaken staff and a large cedar branch. The staff to guide and defend. The branch to whisk away the ravens of fear and deceit.

‘I don’t suppose you can tell if Falon’din is about?’

‘He is here. He shall guide their steps.’

‘For the first time in millenia. If he and the others weren’t imprisoned… why…”

‘Why were they not there as expected, needed?’

‘Yes.’

‘M'y'th'al was greatly reduced, and never likely to answer prayers, regardless. I am certain she has no concept of or ability to love. From what I’ve gathered, Falon’din and Dir'th’am’en slept for millenia, just as I did. After the cataclysm that broke the world.’

‘So our myths of you eating Dalish souls are just that.’

‘Why in the world would I wish to eat souls?’

‘Sometimes, I wonder if any of our myths are true.’

A small herd of halla appeared through the trees. Valour, Perseverance, and Hope were among those escorting five drooping halla. They’d lost their halla’rev’elgar. Their free spirit. When their friends died. They were just…so unhalla like. The Keeper finished her eulogy and stepped back. Five halla stepped forward and awkwardly down into the graves. Each lay down next to their friend.

My throat tightened up. This was better. It really was. I’d seen a halla mourn itself to death once. And hoped to never see it again.

El’and’r’in and C’i’l stepped to the graves and gently down into each. Soft murmurs of comfort for the halla in their rumbling voices as the noble creatures bled their lives away so they could lead their friend to the Land of Dreams and be with them.

They were both paler than usual with gritted jaws as they finished. Likely thinking of the day it would be their time.

Each Clan member took a turn, reciting the Dalish prayer for the dead, and heaped soil into the graves with a wooden shovel.

O Falon'Din

Leth’an’a’vir

Ghil'as'vir el'a'din'an, d'el'l't'as'h el'la'vhen

Ghil'el'din la'isala

O Falon'Din

Leth’an’a’vir—Friend to the Dead

Guide their feet, calm their souls,

Lead them to their rest.

As the graves filled, I had to squint at a figure moving closer through the trees. It reminded me of the brilliant flash of sunlight off water. Nigh impossible to see through. He wasn’t Dalish, yet he was. What little of his face that could be seen through the white glare showed Falon’din’s vallas’lin. He wore long, silver edged white robes, had elaborately braided white hair, and on each shoulder sat a large raven. He carried an elaborately carved oaken staff.

In the next moment, we all saw something no one had seen for millenia. The spirits of those we’d just buried rose from their graves. The halla joyful to be with their friends, the cats stropping themselves around halla and elven ankles, and the scouts looking around in wonder. They each smiled sadly at their loved ones, then, when Falon’din lifted his hand, they went to him. All of them drifting into mist until nothing remained.

Solas, as Su’lan, leaned heavily against my leg, as if exhausted.

Stunned at the return of yet another of our gods, we were quiet as we made our way back to camp.

The Keeper summoned me to her side. “Walk with me.”

I silently followed her until we stood on a headland overlooking the Nocen sea. She sat on the edge and patted the ground next to her. I complied, my legs dangling over.

“You have told us no lies. And there is more to your story. Na’vir tel’ara, da’len? (Your path does not lie here, does it, child?)

I bowed my head. “Ir abel’as. Regretfully. Nae. Ma’vir na’v’all’e’m.” (I’ve chosen my path.)

“They call you Rook? I prefer the name Deshanna gave you, L’in’dir’an’a’e.”

My jaw dropped.

The Keeper held a wistful, nostalgic smile on her face. “I held you as a babe, you know. Your mother and I are lifelong friends.”

“You knew all along that I wasn’t…”

“You did not lie. You are Ri’ris Sa’b'r'a'e as much as you are L’in’dir’an’a’e La’v’el’lan. As much as you are Rook. And you obviously needed help. You look very like your mother did when we were both much younger.”

“I apologize for the deception, Keeper. I didn’t recognize your colours.”

“Wise to be careful, then. Please tell me what I need to know.”

I sat silently for a moment, then almost whispered, “I’m not sure if you’ll believe me. I hardly believe it myself.”

She nodded silently. Leaving space for words.

The distant sound of breakers and the calls of sea-birds made me long for an ocean going ship beneath my feet. “I was enslaved when I was fifteen. Sold to the Tevene by my betrothed. I escaped and returned to La’v’el’lan hoping to reintigrate with my clan sometime after I’d turned nineteen. Ma’ban’a. (I failed.) I shall leave immediately if you wish me to, Keeper Oronevra.”

I straightened my back. Su’lan sat next to me looking out over the sea. And I’d never admit it to anyone, but his warmth helped me say what I needed to. “Mir’ne na’nan. Ar tel’adra. Ma’vir’na el’vir’la’banal’ras la’din. Vhen’ir as’mir’vhen la’el’vir’banal’ras. Tel’el’vir as’vhen’an. El’vir’din. La’r’vhen se’tel’rev’as. Ar’an’n’a’la sa’vir. Ir’tel’him as’tel’him mir’vir. Mir’vi’na el’vir’a’rev’as ar’var’vhen. Nad’as a’ga. And’ar’in el’banal’ras la’var’vhen’eth la’vi’rev’as la’ma’din. (My name is Vengeance. I am honourless. My path is the path to shadow and death. I give to my people on the shadow path. Not the path to love and home. The path of death. And our people are enslaved, I cannot try another path. I am committed to not changing my path. My path is the path to freedom for our people. Inevitably, I must go. I dwell within the shadows to our people’s safety and freedom, to my death.)

I paused, waiting for the kind of reaction La’v’el’lan had given me. I frowned slightly when the Keeper seemed entirely unfazed. “Our gods… they weren’t truly gods at all. They were, as far as I understand, world-shatteringly powerful mages, many of whom declared themselves gods. Some are safer, Fen’ha’rel, Dir'th’am’en, and Falon’din. But the rest… Keeper. I was there the night the veil came down. I felt them. Elgar’nan is nothing more than overwhelming arrogance and lust for Tyranny and Vengeance.

“I never, ever want to fight An’d’r’u’i’l. Her hateful bloodlust for the hunt is nothing like our respect when we need to take an animal’s life. It leaves no room for anything else. Ghil’an’na’in… I’ve never felt a colder personality in my life. She could happily chop someone to pieces while having a conversation with another about silks. M'y'th'al is apparently the exact opposite of the motherly figure of justice we've always worshipped her as. Those four… they are, so absolutely evil I cannot find words to describe the way they felt.”

I fiddled with the edge of my halla wool shirt. “One of the mages we considered gods, Fen’har’el. I think we may have badly misjudged him. J'u'ne is closest to how we’ve imagined, yet still willing to knowingly do horrible things. Syl’aise… while not as outright horrible, is not the loving hearth keeper, and she has already claimed those who wear her mark. We hold them sacred now, but vallas’lin have a very checkered past, according to Sule’din, my eldest sister.”

“The one meant to be Keeper who life chose a much different path for. The Ghil’an’a Bel’lan’a’ris. I do wonder how Deshanna took that news. We’ve not exchanged letters in some time. We write and send them, but they don’t always make it through.”

“Mamae was less than pleased. Especially when Sule’din came home without her vallas’lin. Sule told me, all of us, really, that the vallas’lin had started out as a blood-binding to control spirits. Then, they became a mark of worship and submission for the priests of the e’v’an’u’ris. Over time, they became symbols of enslavement and control. Something happened. I don’t know what, but it’s been referred to as ‘the breaking of the world’. Then came the ban’a’vallas’lin. The failure of our markings.

“In the millenia since, we’ve forgotten what they truly are. As far as I know, most clans use the ancient recipe. That… the mage-gods can control us with them. I know how it sounds. I truly do, mine are precious to me. And I’ve seen what we look like when the mage-gods control us. Our eyes go blank, and the vallas’lin glow a deep, blood red. We are nothing more than puppets to them. We have no control of anything. I do not presume to tell you what to do. And after having felt them, I personally think it would be wise to remove as much power from the evil e’v’an’u’ris as we can.”

I shook my head. “Sule’din told me that there are villages, to the north, some near Orlais, a couple in Ferelden… there are mages there who know how to safely remove them. And damaging the designs enough that the lines aren’t connecting completely also seems to work.”

I sighed. “I swear on my soul that this is truth, to the best of my knowledge. I truly found it unbelievable when I found Sule looking at maps in the dining room and asked her what they were for. The safe, el’vhen villages were created by and are protected by Fen’har’el and those sworn to the cause of elven rebellion and renewal. All elves are welcome in the villages.”

“The last letter I received from your mother told me of the vallas’lin and your choice of path to walk. Perhaps Deshanna no longer wishes to hear from me, and that is why the letters stopped coming. I wrote to tell her she was being incredibly foolish to lose a child by following the ways of a splinter sect of our people. Ones with beliefs that trace to Dwarven kind.”

Keeper Oranevra reached out and grasped my hand gently. “Our people, as a whole, have never shunned those walking with the shadows. Var’vhen gar’el’vir’as el’ras’la’banal’ras. Our people have always had some called to follow both light and shadow. There is no shame in choosing the shadow path, da’len. And much honour. It takes great courage and sacrifice.”

My eyes burned. It would take time to process this. I’d avoided my people because I’d thought they’d all feel like my family clan did. But it wasn’t true.

“You walk a hard path. May I offer my advice?”

I nodded. Unable to speak.

“The shadow path has always been one of balance. Surround yourself with light, friendship, and laughter when you are not hunting. You cannot have shadow without light. There will be nothing left of you when you reach the end of your path, da’len. You must balance the darkness of your fight for our people with the light of caring, love, and hope.”

“Ha’rhen.” My voice cracked. “Ar tel’dirth el’vir’la’ras.” (I know not the path to light.)

“Na’vhen tu’dirth’, da’len. (Your heart still knows, child.) Or Valour couldn’t have chosen you. Gar’na’vhen’vir’as el’ras. (Follow your heart path to light.) The balance will strengthen, not weaken you.”

She reached out to cup my cheek with the motherly love I’d thought gone from me forever. I leaned into her. A deep, aching craving I’d deeply buried lifted its head.

“Ir’as’sal na’vir n'atish, n’al’n’aise’ara. N’atish n’ara. Na’vhen’an n’ara, da’len.” (Wherever your path is peaceful, your gathering hearth/home is here. Your heart home is here, child.)”

I pressed my lips tightly together and blinked my eyes furiously. But I swallowed and nodded. “Ma serrana, ha’rhen.”

“A certain foursome has sensed you unlikely to stay and have petitioned me to be allowed to leave with you.”

“Aihee. Lin.” (Males)

Keeper Oranevra smiled. “Stubborn things, are they not?”

I rolled my eyes in heartfelt agreement.

“I gave them permission to follow you. If you allow.”

Immediately, I shook my head. “Ar’an’n’a’la, Keeper. (I cannot, Keeper.) Oronevra will need them.”

She leaned back on her elbows, long silver braid falling to the grass. “I believe Oronevra shall travel to one of these villages. We shall do our best to spread the word. The world is in flux, and we must all draw together, or we shall fall together. You’ll find them at the head of a column of volunteers if you leave them here. The ones who bond with our war halla, they are as much a warrior at heart as you, da’len. They will not be happy if they cannot fight for our world. Oronevra will survive.”

“I am not what they think I am. I will not mislead them more than I have already done. I would be lying if I tried to say I felt nothing for them. But my path is more dangerous than even I understand. I cannot allow them to follow me on it.”

“Stay a last night with your people. Dawn will be soon enough to lose you. I meant it. If you want a home with us, whether you ever make a mate-bond or not, you are always welcome. Oh, a final thing, in case we don’t have a chance to speak again. There is a rather stubborn former member of Oronevra who I believe has been waiting for you.”

She chuckled. “Well, he’s been waiting for something, but he couldn’t tell me what. He is, by his choice, outcast, and will not weaken us if you choose to invite him to fight at your side. Da’v’r’in made a good living for himself as a monster hunter before becoming a warden. You could do far worse for an ally. He camps two days to the north. I think it would be good for you both to meet.”

Keeper Oronevra, over the course of a conversation, had become one of the very few people I’d deeply consider advice from. “I shall do as you ask. I may not be whatever he has been waiting for.”

“Excellent. You shall recognize him by his odd companion.” A secretive smile played around her lips, and I could tell that’s all I’d get out of her about this Da’v’r’in’s companion.

We both stood and she pulled me into a tight hug. When she pulled back she kept her hands on my shoulders and smiled with such kindness at me. “El’fen’ha’rel enansal, da’len. (The Dread Wolf has blessed you, child/little one.) Ga’na’s’vir. Vhen’ir’thra mir’enansel. (Go to your path. I give you my blessing.) And tell your sister hello for me. I haven’t had a moment to respond to her last letter.”

Keeper Oronevra, after completely shattering everything I’d thought I’d understood about my people, shocking me by knowing not just my Mamae, but also Sule, giving me a home without strings attached if I ever wanted one, offering to send two skilled Dalish warriors I was afraid it would be very easy to have feelings for, and two more gargantuan halla with me, and teasing me with curiosity about this ‘odd companion’ of Da’v’r’in Oronevra’s… sauntered away as if nothing of note had happened.

Solas stretched just like a dog. ‘That is a wise, clever, sneaky el’vhen. I would deeply enjoy speaking to her as myself.’

‘Which self would that be? The terrifying purple eyed mage my sister was blind enough to bond with? Or the smoking, glowing, shadow-wolf controlling not-god of the entire Dalish people?‘

I started walking back to the ara’v’el, he trotted alongside me. ‘Well. I hardly need to blind her, so likely the terrifying purple eyed mage.’

‘She may eat you alive for breakfast.’

‘She might indeed. ‘Tis what makes her so fascinating.’

‘You’re weird.’

‘Said the scarred, battered warrior with a terrible attitude, tendency to pick fights far out of your weight-class, a wretched temper, and with a soul pure enough to attract a halla.’

‘You really make me wish for a frying pan, sometimes.’

He snorted, then laughed a canine laugh.

I spent the rest of the day, before the celebration, cleaning my spoils of war and making discreet plans to leave.

Many of the clan brought me thank you gifts for the role I’d played in the battle. Even more made the trek to the nearby Fen’Ha’rel statue to leave offerings.

Chapter Text

ROOK

I crossed my arms as Solas sat on my foot. Just like a real dog. I wanted to lift my toe and poke him.

I stood staring at Valour. ‘You cannot be serious. Did you bring half the herd with you?’

He craned his neck to look over his shoulder, setting his chimes singing. ‘Oh, Fade-dust no. This isn’t even a large portion of Oronevra's herd. These are some of the members who wish to fight. I presume you have companions. Perhaps some will be worthy to bond with. If not, we are, of course, all extremely skilled in battle ourselves.’

I just gave up. Arguing with Valour had never done me any good, anyway. ‘As long as they’re all volunteers. But your children? Valour? Many have your eyes.’

‘All highly trained war-halla. I saw to it myself.’

I just threw up my hands. ‘Would you mind asking if some wouldn’t mind carrying some things? The clan was… generous.” I looked down at the stacked gifts surrounding the ara’v’el. It would be incredibly rude to leave anything behind. Maybe Valour’s presumptuousness in putting together a halla army could come in handy.

Several halla stepped forward. All of them wore their saddle pads and bags. I busied myself tightening girthstraps and making sure nothing pinched or was uncomfortable. Dawn had definitely drifted past while we got everything loaded, but it was still early enough that most of the clan was asleep. We’d been up at dawn so I could pack. And Solas had cleaned the interior of the ara’v’el and linens with magic. Honestly, it had been a relief because I’d have had to wash the linens before leaving.

I’d have to tell Sule what a good maid Solas was.

I glanced sadly toward La'na'ya’s family's ara’v’el. I’d said goodbye after the gathering last night. A sneaky bit of hope that I might see her again someday swirled through me. Something I would usually have squashed, I let filter into my being. Keeper Oranevra had given me knowledge I hadn’t had. She’d introduced me as an honoured shadow-walker last night, and no one had blinked an eye. A few had bowed in respect. Perhaps she was right about the rest of it?

I shuddered all over at the unfamiliar sensation of… hope. It was hope. I hoped to see La'na'y'a, my friend, again someday. Flaming sails. Hope was terrifying.

I let both Valour and Solas know that I needed a few moments alone. Then, dressed in the shiny, black leather armour over sturdier, Dalish style clothes, some of the gifts, I disappeared into the forest. I stood coping with my emotions, of all things, for a short time.

“You said no.” El’and’r’in, as quiet as ever, moved to stand where I could see him.

I smiled sadly at him and shook my head. A sneaky part of me memorized his face and the way his green eyes gleamed in the shadows. “I wasn’t ever what and who you thought me to be. I’m sorry.” I looked down and dug some dirt up with the toe left bare by a new set of perfectly fitting leg wraps. I’d missed the supportive comfort of them.

“Well. I thought you an interesting person who had been through far too much, who fights like an ancient Ar’lath’an knight, was nervous about riding a halla, and was someone I wanted to know better. Was I wrong in any of that?” His voice held that gently teasing tone that tugged my lips up.

A wry half smile escaped. “Just one.”

I looked up at him, meeting his eyes, and let him see me, all of me. “You don’t want to get to know me better. I’m not a good person. I would be your ruination. Both yours and C’i’l’s.”

I frowned when D’r’in chuckled at me. He stepped closer and I automatically backed up a step, then another, until my back had hit a white paper-bark tree. Why had I backed up?

D’r’in looked down at me, full lips curved upward. “Who you are, the path you walk, none of it scares me, L’in’dir’an’a’e. I’m hardly an innocent. C’i’l and I both left Oronevra for a time when we were younger. Many of us do, to get training and experience. We’re a large clan, a few warriors aren’t usually missed.” A lurking coldness made his eyes almost brittle they were so sharp. “I’ve done many things I don’t even remotely regret.”

D’r’in stepped slightly closer, pressing our armoured chests together. My eyelids fluttered closed at his intoxicating, spicy aroma.

The warmth of his finger coaxed me to lift my chin and open my eyes. “There is something here, between us, L’in’dir’an’a’e. A spark, a pull. Unless I’m mistaken you feel it for C’i’l, too. Even as shy as he is. There could be so much more between us all.”

“I feel it. For both of you. But I can’t. I’m going to war. One I have very little chance of surviving. I won’t lead either of you on more than I’ve already inadvertently done. Maybe, before I was captured and shattered into so many pieces… there could’ve been something between us all. But… even if I survive. I don’t want children, D’r’in. The idea of everything to do with being a Mamae makes my skin crawl.”

I’d expected that to make him back off. Instead, he lowered his head a bit, his gaze flicked to my lips then back.

My heart rate sped up.

“And if I told you I didn’t care if we ever had children? That neither of us care? They’re a great deal of work, you know.”

Every bit of me yearned closer to him. “I’d ask if you had a fever?” Breathlessly high pitched? Had that actually been me? Sex was fun, but it didn’t make me squeak like that.

His gaze dropped to my mouth and his callused thumb traced my bottom lip. The heat in his eyes left me with no doubt of his desires.

I stood straighter, bringing our mouths closer. I shook my head. “We shouldn’t. It’ll just hurt more.” My gaze flicked to his lips and back to the heated green of his eyes.

That sexy half grin. What was my thing with that expression?

D’r’in tilted his head a little and dropped closer, a breath of space separated our mouths. “Perhaps I like pain? Perhaps I don’t care how much it hurts if I can just taste you.”

No. No! I was completely addlepated to even consider it! I should just duck away and leave. He’d left escapes open for me.

I lifted my heels enough to close the distance and moaned softly. His lips were smooth and firm. He groaned and wrapped his arms around my waist to pull me closer as my fingers found the soft hair under his braid.

He flickered his tongue against me and I opened my mouth. My knees went weak at how good he tasted. Spearmint, a soft flavour like the first sun heavy blackberries, a deeper, muskier note of spice all entwined with the taste of him.

He leisurely danced his tongue with mine, swirling and caressing. My belly tightened low down and my nipples tingled. I wished we were weren’t wearing armour. Or clothing. Naked would be very good.

He held me tightly and kissed me absolutely senseless. He nibbled my lips as he slowly brought our kiss to an end. He braced his forehead on mine. We both closed our eyes, honouring each other’s breath, our spirits, our being.

He reluctantly let me go and I couldn’t help a small sound of protest.

He slid his hands down my arms and pressed something into my palm. “Now you have something to live and come back for. Dar’eth, L’in’dir’an’a’e Ri’ris La’v’el’lan Sa’b'r'a'e. (Be safe.) We’ll see one another again.”

Then, with a last slide of a fingertip over my cheek, he turned and disappeared into the woods as if he were part of them. Because he was.

I looked down. No. No, no, no. I would not fall for anyone ever again. I could not possibly be that stupid. It just got them killed. It was such a good thing I was leaving. D’r’in was dangerous. In my palm lay an intricately woven Dalish courting favour. Meant to be worn in our hair. It had a red strand for courting, an Azure strand for Oronevra, and a long piece of D’r’in’s brilliant red hair intertwined through it. And I knew just whose clever fingers had braided it in the traditional pattern.

I stood staring at it for several moments then tucked it into one of my waterproofed pouches. If I wore it, I accepted their suit. I had no idea how to feel so I shoved it all to the back of my mind, then went out to join my party.

Healer A'sh'all'e waited near Su’lan, petting his head.

Solas, terrifying mage so powerful he could actually be a god, had his ears loosely held, a dopey look in his eyes, and his tongue hanging out to the side. I absolutely had to tell Sule’din about this.

I bowed, arms crossed, to Healer A'sh'all'e. “Ma Serrana, Healer, for the care.”

She smiled, making her beautiful wrinkled skin shift into fascinating new patterns. She’d smiled a lot in her life. “I came to bring you this. You never know when you might need it.”

She passed me a halla wool wrapped package. It held something soft. I hugged it to my chest. It was rude to open a gift in front of the giver. “Any gift from you is treasured, ha’rhen. Good bye.”

“Good bye, da’len. Dar’eth Shi’r’a’l. Come home safely.”

That easily they offered me a home. I couldn’t even identify the emotions swirling though me. So I carefully tucked the gift away in one of the packs on the halla.

I went and stood next to Valour. ‘Did you grow taller since yesterday?’

‘That’s unlikely. I’m hardly a yearling.’

‘Okay. Here goes.’

I stuck my foot into the stirrup and swung astride my halla for the first time. A childish, gleeful excitement bubbled up in me. And I didn’t squash it. I had a halla'len, and I could actually ride him! All my little kid dreams had come true.

‘Finally.’

‘Of course you sass me. Aren’t you supposed to be, I dunno, all serious and stuff?’

He started walking and Solas gave A'sh'all'e an affectionate head bump before following. I was so telling Sule what an adorable puppy he made.

‘How boring that would be. I assure you, I’m far more interesting than that.’

‘You know? I look forward to getting to know you.’

‘Likewise.’

We led a caravan of almost twenty war halla out of camp and in the direction of Da’v’r’in’s. It wasn’t much of a detour from the el’u’vi’an. And my curiosity chewed at me fiercely. Why word it like that? His odd companion? What could possibly be so strange about it?

Chapter Text

ROOK

Our first night out of Oronevra, Solas shifted and dressed in the clean items I’d selected for him. Everything was a bit snug, few of the raider's had had Solas's size.

Once he'd dressed, he came back and quietly helped me pitch camp. And competently, too.

“Fit's a bit snug.” It felt weird to talk to him with my mouth now.

‘And you enjoy the view.’

‘Ew. I do not.’ I stuck my mental tongue out at Valour.

Solas shrugged a shoulder. “They'll work. We've only a few days left until we reach home. I appreciate you getting and cleaning them for me. If I’m badly injured when I’m shifted, I lose anything large I took into the shift with me. Like my weapons and armour.”

I quietly spitted the rabbits and got them settled over the coals. We had plenty of jerky, but fresh was always better. A few roasted tubers, mushrooms, and wild carrots would round out the meal.

The soft tinkling in the distance came from the, I’d counted, twenty-one halla Valour had brought with him while they grazed in a large field.

Solas efficiently laid out bedrolls on either side of the fire. I’d traded for one, and one of the wrapped gifts had been another.

“You are quiet.”

I shrugged a shoulder while running my finger over the edges of my leg wraps. “Nothing to say.”

“Have I mysteriously somehow managed to misplace Rook somewhere?”

I frowned at him. “It’s honestly none of your business.”

“Very well. I intend to dream visit Sule and Lahn this night. Would you have me give either a message?”

“Nae. No. Ugh. No. I’ll see her in a few days.”

“Why resist the urge to speak el’vhen?”

Irritated, I stood up and put my hands on my hips. “Even if I knew the answer to that, it still wouldn’t be your business.”

Honestly, him sitting on his bedroll across from me, one elbow rested on a lifted knee and the firelight burnishing his red hair was making me uncomfortable.

Doggie shaped Solas and sick Solas weren’t what I was dealing with now. And I didn’t know how to handle it. I’d told him a lot about me, either through tearing chinks in my emotional armour from being around Dalish again or because I’d felt I’d owed him.

But I still knew so little about him.

I turned and went to the spring for water. A river flowed nearby, but springwater was likely safer.

Uuuuugh. Why couldn’t Sule’din have better taste? I had an unpleasant urge to ask Solas questions about himself because he knew so much about me. I rarely shared anything about myself with anyone. It left me off kilter.

I set our waterskins down. “I don’t like how much I shared with you, about me. I don’t talk about myself much.”

He lay back on his bedroll and folded his arms under his head. “Ask. You’ll be our children’s Ommer, you have a right to.”

I wrinkled my nose. “Ew. I do not want to think about you and Sule’din doing that.”

Solas snorted, amused. “You’re hardly chaste. I’m reasonably certain you know how it works.”

“Ick. Maybe you won’t have any.”

“Possible, however unlikely. E’v’an’u’ris tended to be quite fertile.”

I picked up a small stick and threw it at him. Deliberately missing. “I said, gross. Why’s it taking so long for Lahn and her then? They’ve been trying for like, ever.”

“Lahn is second born. Not technically an e’v’an’u’ris. For which he’s always expressed gratitude.”

“That’s probably why he’s reasonably sane.”

Solas chuckled. “He hasn’t always been.”

“You knew each other? Before?” I waved a hand at the general environs.

“You won’t want the answer.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake. Just tell me.”

“We were lovers.”

“Here I was thinking he was sane. Ah, but you did say he wasn’t always.”

Sadness floated through Solas’s eyes, and I absolutely hated it that I could read his emotions even by firelight.

“Far less to do with me, and much more to do with M'y'th'al and his twin.”

I almost dropped the spitted food I’d just been flipping. “Lahn has a twin? Oh… is he dead? Yeah, that would suck.”

“No. An’a’ris, last we knew, is alive and has likely returned to the real.”

“An’a’ris? Like, the Forgotten One?”

“Mmhm.”

“I swear it feels like everything I’ve ever thought I knew, or everything I believed is just melting away from me.” I shook my head. “Okay. What were the Forgotten Ones? Somehow, I’m pretty sure we got that wrong too.”

“The Forgotten Ones were generally e’v’an’u’ris sentenced to the void by ‘Mother Justice’ herself. They were her children, my siblings, some second born like An’a’ris were cast out as well. Anyone weaker wouldn’t have survived the void.”

“So, not demons?”

Solas tilted his head a bit. “Some became their baser selves, like any spirit being can.”

“So… how?”

“An’a’ris could never accept that M'y'th'al didn’t have the capability to love. He and Lahn are her firstborn children of the body. An’a’ris acted out, repeatedly, trying to gain M'y'th'al’s attention, if not her love. Even the earliest of our people weren’t immune to being fools. Lahn and I both tried to help him many times. Eventually, M'y'th'al grew tired of An’a’ris’s antics. She ordered Lahn and An’a’ris to fight. Demonstration matches at first, then to first and third blood. I think An’a’ris only truly understood that M'y'th'al hated him when she ordered them to fight a battle to the death. Despite looking identical, Lahn always enjoyed battle more than An’a’ris. He honestly had little chance against M'y'th'al’s star general.”

Solas shifted a little, as if still slightly sore. “All of the leadership of el’vhen’an were taught to fight. We needed to be able to defend ourselves. An’a’ris could fight, but his heart wasn’t ever for it like Lahn’s was. Lahn won the battle, but couldn’t kill his twin. M'y'th'al sent An’a’ris to the void.”

“She’s just a perfect example of motherhood, isn’t she?” I looked down and played with my leg wraps again. “Though if what Keeper Oronevra said is true. Mine isn’t much better.”

“People can be fools, misled, and still care.”

“Maybe. Or maybe she never cared at all. I’ll never know.” I checked the food. The rabbits had been plump with summer browse and weren’t ready to eat yet. Unless we wanted them half-raw.

“Do you think Sule’din would appreciate gifts from Dalish culture?”

I threw myself back on my bedroll and covered my face with my hands. “You are not asking me about courting gifts for my sister.”

“Who else other than Lahn should I ask?”

“Can’t you, I dunno, just read her mind or something?”

“Could, but would never.”

I groaned. “Probably. She likely misses things like I do… did… do. Ugh. Whatever. But the Clan also visits her yearly so she wasn’t completely cut off, like me.”

“If we recruit this Da’v’r’in, that will make four Dalish at the Lighthouse.’

I sang badly. “Four Dalish, two Crows, twenty two halla, a person who drank poisoned well water and two whatever you and Lahn are. Old geezers.”

Solas snorted then actually chuckled out loud. “Sule’din assured Lahn he’s not quite decrepit yet.”

I blew air through my lips. “You’re both ancient. You probably smell of mould and corpse dust. Or, in your case, wet dog.”

No, Lahn smelled of cherries and woodshavings. And Solas smelled like chocolate and sweet oranges. Even when he’d been around nothing like either for days. I didn’t need the reminder brain. Blazing sails, the second we got back I’d be pouncing the closest person interested in sex with me. I hadn’t had a two week or longer dry spell in almost a decade.

“Wolf, I believe you’ll find.”

I rolled my eyes as I served dinner. "You’re sure you’re not a spotted druffalo?"

"So you did choose the pattern for that reason."

"Oh, don’t be sore, you look cute with it. Cute is disarming."

"This is true." 

We ate in the silence of our thoughts, then bedded down. No need for a guard. The halla would do that.

‘I swear a person should practice splits before trying to ride one of you.’ I rubbed my hip joint.

‘Is that where two-legs sit with their legs wide on the ground?’

‘Two legs should sound like an insult but somehow doesn’t.’

‘Tis a fair descriptor.’

‘True enough. And yes. It stretches our hips out. I didn’t think mine were so stiff.’

‘Training to add to your routine, then.’

I rolled my eyes. Yes, dad.’

‘I’m of equivalent age as I believe you are. Full adulthood, but not my middle years. And that would be a physical impossibility.’

‘It was a joke.’

Valour snickered in the back of my mind and I reached up to gently flick his ear. ‘You knew I was joking.’

‘Yes, da’len. Your wise elder knew you were joking.’

‘You are such a brat.’

‘Part of my charm.’

‘If you say so.’

‘I scent large predator. Be on guard.’

I blew air through my nose. I needed more fighters, so, with my luck, this Da'v’r’in had gotten himself eaten.

Valour came to a halt within sight of a camp. ‘The scent is strongest in camp. We stand ready to assist.’

I slid off his back and winced at how much my hips ached.

‘Valour said—’

‘He told me.’

I looked at both Solas and Valour with betrayal. ‘Lin.’ I muttered and stalked off to examine the camp. (Males)

The camp didn’t look like an attack had occurred. Coals sat under a spitted buck, everything had been squared away with military neatness. A pile of branches and blankets made a nest, of sorts. But not a very neat one.

I followed a wide path toward the edge of the plateau overlooking the sea.

An elf stood on the edge, shading his eyes as he tracked something. He wore the distinctive blue and white striped armour of a Grey Warden. Warden in the place we were supposed to find him? Check.

“Da’v’r’in O'ro'ne'v'ra?”

“Shhh. He’s coming in. Might want to stand back by the trees. Landings are still a bit helter skelter.”

I raised a brow but Solas and I backed to the treeline. Warden senses? Da'v’r’in hadn’t even looked at us.

‘I don’t think I’ve ever met a warden before.’

‘Largely a group of criminals, thugs, mercenaries, and on occasion, liars.’

‘Had some run-ins? And will me recruiting him be a problem?’

Solas blew air through his nose. ‘Hardly. If he is effective, he will be quite useful. I do not like wardens. They play with magic they do not understand. Meddle where they should not. They’ll be another breaking of the world do they not cease. And not many, really. I travelled for some time with a man pretending to be a warden.’

‘If you don’t like them, how do you know they meddle where they should not.’ I echoed his pompous tone.

‘Once you have educated yourself upon the origins of the war, it should be obvious.’

‘Woke up on the wrong side of the bedroll this morning? ‘

‘Nae.’

Fine. If he wanted to be like that, he could just sulk.

Bored, I watched the dot grow larger, then larger, until it was about the size of a grown jungle cat. Then my eyes almost popped out of my head. Feathered wings. Check. Cat like body. Check. Raptor claws and beak. Check. ‘Am I seeing things?’

‘Or?’

Where was my frying pan when I needed it? I swear I’d buy one just to threaten Solas with. Lucanis would never let me near his.

‘Or is that a bloody griffin?’

‘Oh. Look. Your eyes work.’

‘What crawled up your ass and died?’

‘Nothing has crawled up my…’ he gritted his jaw.

What the fuck had I done to piss him off this time? What the fuck ever.

I pressed my lips together and shoved down on my amusement at the rolling, tumbling mess that came to a stop at Da’v’r’in’s feet. “Better, boy! You aimed for the top and got it!” The tall, big warden gently helped what was, indeed, a barely fledged griffin untangle all his limbs.

He petted and praised the ‘odd companion’ Keeper O'ro'ne'v'ra had mentioned for a bit, fed him a treat, then led the way back to where we stood. He had incredibly kind brown eyes. Ghil’an’na’in’s halla-horn-like vallas’lin on his dark skin made my nerves chill. He held out his hand and we clasped wrists in turn with him.

“You already know who I am.”

“Keeper O'ro'ne'v'ra sent us. We’ve got a bit of a monster problem and hear you’re good at taking care of monsters.”

Solas snorted. ‘Interesting way to put it.’

Da’v’r’in gestered back toward his camp. "Roast should be about ready, and As'san will want to rest. Camp hospitality?”

‘‘Ma’en’a’desen’vor’atish.”(I will hold the peace.)

“Ha. It’s been a while since I heard elven.”

Da’v’r’in's eyebrows shot up at the herd of halla. Then he walked over and greeted several like they were old friends.

‘Ah! Marvelous. He used to care for us when he was younger. Please tell him it’s fabulous to see him again.’

‘Tell him yourself.’

Valour gave me an annoyed snort. ‘Your companion is different. I can speak to him, but no one other than you. All of us can speak to the one with eyes like mine. ‘Tis quite odd.’

I sighed. “Valour said to tell you it’s fabulous to see you again.”

“Valour? Yellow horn? Is that you? You’ve gotten strong.”

‘I despise that wretched nickname. My horns are a perfectly respectable silvered pale purple. Yellow indeed.’

I snorted. “He’d prefer you to not use that name.”

Da’v’r’in shot me a wry look. “Got a headful, huh?”

I nodded while widening my eyes.

Da’v’r’in turned to Valour and bowed deeply to him. “It’s wonderful to see you again too, Valour. I apologize. I didn’t realize you disliked the name.”

Valour nosed Da’v’r’in in the chest in acceptance.

“Well, you definitely came from O'ro'ne'v'ra. Come. Let’s eat. Valour? There’s a large meadow that way.” Da’v’r’in pointed.

I’d barely opened my eyes when Valour said, ‘Finally.’

‘It’s not even daybreak?‘

‘Oh, no, sorry. The decision-making over who would offer friendship to your two companions. They’ve been arguing since we left and arguing about the new one with the bird-cat all night!’ Frazzled emotions rang in his voice.

‘That sounds like it wasn’t much fun.’

‘Nae, t’was not. But ‘tis finally sorted.’

‘Wait, did you say both?’

‘Indeed.’

‘The purple eyed one, too?’

‘He’s who they argued about the longest! Can halla get headaches?’

‘It sounds like you’ve a whole herdful.’

‘Quite. Apologies if I woke you.’

‘No. Wasn’t you. Rock in my bed.’ I tossed the offensive stone and settled back to sleep.

Chapter Text

ROOK

A purple-eyed buck almost as large as Valour had claimed Solas. And I would cherish the look of consternation on his face for the rest of my days. Hadn’t seen that coming. Good. He should have a stiff reminder that he didn’t know everything once in a while.

A slightly smaller doe had offered to be Da’v’r’in's halla'len. The guy's eyes had lit up like the annual Midwinter festival. But he'd stayed walking next to the grey and beige brindled griffin. I'd ridden most of the time, but took frequent breaks to ease my hips.

Solas, of course, acted like he’d ridden halla his entire life and never took a break because of pain.

For all I knew, he had been riding them his whole life.

“Thank a clear sky.” I sighed with relief at spotting the el’u’vi’an we’d travelled through for the freedom raid that honestly felt like it could’ve happened a year ago.

‘Do you want to stay out here while Solas gets at least a field and shelter ready? You can plan the obstacle course together later. The courtyard isn’t very large.’ I shared the image with Valour.

He snorted. ‘We shall certainly need to stay here until there’s more space.’

‘Let Solas know please? While I go talk to Da’v’r’in.’

‘You have avoided Peace’s friend since we met the one with the bird-cat. Have you had a falling out?’

‘No. He’s just an asshole and I don’t want to talk to him.’

‘Hmmm.’

I slid off his back and groaned internally. ‘I just really want a hot bath. I’m certain everyone would like some rest.’

‘Tis true.’

I went over to where Da’v’r’in’s halla played nose tag with the griffin, booping snoot to beak.

“I wasn’t certain they’d get on, but they seem to be doing well.” Da’v’r’in stood hip-shot with his arms crossed over his bulky chest. We didn’t know each other well, yet, but he sorta felt like a brother from a different clan. It was… nice. My actual brothers were so much older than me that they were more like distant uncles. I only knew Sule so well because she’d made it a point to be a good big sister.

“Ow.” I rubbed my hip joint. “Solas and I are going to go through the mirror and get some accommodations set up for everyone. Do you want to wait or come through now?”

Da’v’r’in cast a weather eye at the el’u’vi’an. “We’ll wait.”

“Okay. I’ll try to be back out soon. Might be a few hours, depending on how fast Solas is. Valour said a stream is that way.” I hooked my thumb over my shoulder.

“Excellent.”

Elf of few words. But honestly, I liked that.

Solas had slid down off of Peace and cradled his nose in his hands, foreheads pressed together. It might’ve been cute if he weren’t such a dick.

“Shall we? Da’v’r’in is gonna stay with the herd until you make a place for them.”

Solas straightened up, patted Peace on the neck, and led me through the mirror.

The blue-purple of the el’u’vi’an hall made my shoulders sag in relief at finally being home. After I checked to make sure nothing was currently imploding, I needed a meal, a bath, the first available fuck willing to accommodate me, then a whole night of sleep. In a bed. Alone.

“You seem familiar with halla. I think my hip joints are dislocated.”

“I… no. Actually. I had met Lahn’s, but was not ever around them much myself.” Solas turned and walked to the double marble doors leading up to the main room.

I grabbed his arm. “Hold up. Lahn’s halla?”

Solas looked down at me with that arrogantly raised eyebrow. “What, exactly, do you think Ar’lath’an’s star general rode to battle?”

He… couldn’t be that completely insensitive, could he? Fury bubbled in my gut and my fist curled involuntarily. I spoke slowly, as if I were talking to a child. Mostly because I’d figured out he hated it. “And where. Is Lahn’s halla’len, now?”

If Lahn had had a halla’len in all the years I’d known him, I would’ve met his friend.

Solas’s pupils widened as he said, “Dead. One of the early battles of the Rev’as'an War, before M'y'th'al bound him to the temple.”

I looked down at the floor, put my hands on my hips, pursed my lips, and let a slow stream of air out so I wouldn’t absolutely fucking lose it at him. Fucking seriously! What did Sule’din see in this complete and utter dumbass?

I kept my voice low, because otherwise I’d be shrieking at him like a fish wife. “Did you warn him? When you dreamed?”

Solas’s guilty expression was all the confirmation I needed.

My voice shook I was so fucking angry. If he'd known me better, he might've run. Low, unhinged chuckles escaped me whenever I was angry or in pain enough to lose my shit. Me losing my shit usually meant dead bodies. A breathless little chuckle erupted. “You let me bring twenty-two war halla descended from the blood of the same kind of halla as Lahn’s halla’len, to the place he lives? A person I care deeply about? You didn’t warn him? You didn’t warn me?”

Before I’d even made a conscious decision, even if it would’ve been the same one, my knuckles cracked athwart Solas’s stupidly hard jaw and snapped his head around. He ran his tongue over the outside of his teeth. Hopefully, I’d broken a few.

My voice low and dangerous, I said, “Turn around, walk up the stairs. Stay the fuck away from Lahn. I will tell him, since apparently, between the two of us I’m the only one with half an ounce of sense, emotional consideration, or a working fucking brain!”

Solas did as I said, and I glared holes in his back the entire way up the curving stairs. Sule’din’s mellow voice came from the comfortable gathering room and as soon as Solas and I crested the stairs, I put both fists into his back and pushed.

It pissed me off even more when he humoured me in letting me push him toward the collection of soft furniture and tables. If he’d been of the mind to, I wouldn’t have been able to move him. Argh!

I growled like a feral animal as we got closer to the centre of the room.

At the same time I shoved Solas as hard as I could, I hooked a foot around his ankle. Cat-like bastard didn’t land on his face like I’d wanted, but he stumbled. My breath heaving with anger, I completely glossed over Bel'la'r'a and a stranger sitting over tea with my sister. My voice low, and furious, I said to Sule, “Take. Him. Back. And. Keep. Him. The. Fuck. Away. From. Me.” I pinched the bridge of my nose and tried to rein my temper in. “Where’s Lahn?”

Sule’din pointed upstairs and frowned at me as if I had my knickers on display. Her angry gaze didn’t leave mine as she sweetly said, “My sincerest apologies, Professor Volkarin. This is my bond-mate, Solas, and my sib, Rook. Who have just been through some traumatic events and will obviously be on much better behavior the next time you meet.”

I growled, wanting to bite something, and threw my hands up in the air. I pointed at Sule. “Just keep him the fuck away from me before I murder him and enjoy every bloody second.’

I turned and walked as calmly up the stairs as I could.

I called back over my shoulder, “Hey, asshole. Don’t forget to make the stuff.” I didn’t even dare look at Solas for fear I’d throw a knife at him.

I closed the door to the first level and shook out my hand. Fuck. The el’vhen had a jaw like an anvil, and just as sharp on the edge. I looked dispassionately at my rapidly bruising knuckles and flexed my hand to make sure I hadn’t broken anything. I’d be fine. I braced my hands on my knees and breathed deeply for a few moments before going in search of Lahn.

I found him upstairs in the soon to be new quarters the three of them would share. “Hey, um.” I had no idea what to say now.

Lahn smiled kindly, set down his carving tool and sat down. He gestured at another spindleback chair. “Sule’din told me you were on your way up.”

I sat before immediately getting up to pace. “I need to apologize, Lahn. I swear I didn’t know and the person who should’ve told me is a flea-ridden, dick-licking, massively irresponsible, idiot of a stupid fucking wolf!”

I pinched my nose again and took a few deep breaths.

“I don’t think I’ve ever actually seen you that angry at him. Which is rather saying a lot.”

I looked at the ceiling. Opened my mouth a few times only to close it again. “In the Dalish camp, a halla offered me halla’len.”

Lahn’s golden eyes grew sad but he smiled. “Congratulations. It’s a unique and precious bond.”

“Yeah. I’m gathering that as I get to know him. A group of them insisted on coming along. O'ro'ne'v'ra Clan encourages the old lines. They have types of halla I’ve never even read about.” I met Lahn’s sad eyes. My brows pinched together in regret. “They have… war halla. All of them that came with us, including mine, Valour, are war halla. They’re going to look a lot like—”

Understanding flooded his eyes. “They look like my Honesty did. Or close to.”

I frowned. “Solas didn’t warn me, and apparently he didn’t mention it to you, either. I am so sorry.”

The corner of Lahn’s mouth lifted slightly. “He can absolutely be an idiot. You couldn’t have known, I’d never mentioned having had a halla’lin before. You also probably weren’t given much choice in being chosen. Earlier warning would have been nice, but I still appreciate it now.”

I crossed my arms.

Amusement filled Lahn’s eyes. “Did you actually…?”

I followed Lahn’s gaze to my rapidly bruising and swelling knuckles. “I most certainly fucking did. Inconsiderate slime." I grimaced. "Has a jaw like a bloody anvil.”

Lahn stood and came toward me, intent on giving me a hug. I held up a hand. “I’ve been travelling, in armour, and camping rough for several days. As much as I really want one of your hugs right now, you might not want to mmph—”

“As if I haven’t smelled stinky warriors before. I’ll be okay. I appreciate you defending my emotions. It’s been a long time. Maybe seeing them wherever you and Solas put them will help me heal that wound, too. I’ll tell you stories of Honesty at some point. If you’d like.”

I clung to Lahn’s waist with my nose basically squashed between his pecs trying to pretend my eyes weren’t burning. I would’ve run the other fucking way from Valour if I’d known I’d hurt my friend bringing him back here.

I leaned back from Lahn’s comforting warmth. “I need to go... not kill your bond-mate, make sure he’s making the accommodations as instructed, then go bring them and my new recruit in. Oh, shit. You didn’t have a bonded griffin, too, did you?”

Lahn laughed. “No. Solas had a bonded griffin. But griffins haven’t been seen since—”

“About three days ago near the Nocen sea. His name is As'san. I recruited another heavy warrior who takes care of him. The warrior’s name is Da’v’r’in, and he’s a Dalish Grey Warden.”

Wonder crossed Lahn’s face, then he ran his finger along my jawline. “Griffins, alive? That truly is a miracle. Go do what you need to. I’ll get the Caretaker to get your rooms ready.”

I leaned my forehead against Lahn’s chest with an utterly exhausted sigh. “Yeah. I need to do that. Before I fall over. What the fuck do you two even see in Solas? My Mamae’s hearthcakes but I’ve wanted to kill him at least daily.”

Lahn snorted. “He has his good points.”

I stepped back and cocked a brow up at him. “All I’ve got to say is he’d better be fucking amazing in bed for you two to put up with him.”

Lahn opened his mouth, teasing mirth dancing in his eyes.

I held up a single finger. “Don’t. That was not a question. And I never want the answer. Thank you very much.”

I turned on my heel and stalked down the stairs, past Sule’din’s little tea party and out the front doors to the courtyard.

An aerie had been built leading up from the balcony in front of the kitchen and dining room building. A lovingly constructed nest rested on top, under a glass dome with shades that could be dropped for privacy. A bed made for a two-leg, as Valour would’ve put it, rested not far from it. A curving staircase led down into a room, and another from there to the balcony.

On the other side to the back right of the main lighthouse and encircling three quarters of the tiled areas, Solas had created a lush green field. It looked like anything a halla could ever dream of had been installed except for an obstacle course. It was plenty big enough for the whole herd.

Solas stood with his back to me, brushing off his hands, as if he’d made it all with those.

“Is the reason you’ve been such an asshole since we met Da’v’r’in because you lost your bonded griffin?“

“I… yes.”

My voiced lashed cold and harsh. “Good. Then you know exactly how Lahn feels right now.” I turned on a heel and went to fetch our new recruits.

Chapter Text

LAHN

I looked up when Sule’din came into our room.

She crossed her arms, extremely annoyed. “What crawled up Rook’s ass? They’ll be lucky if the Professor decides to help us after that disastrous display of temper.”

I lifted my brow. “Solas fucked up. Again.”

“I gathered something of the sort. Rook doesn’t even remotely like him, but they’d been polite enough lately. They were utterly incandescent.”

“It’s… a big fuck up.”

Sule’din sat on the edge of our bed next to me and took my hand. “How bad? Is there anything I can do?”

I sighed heavily. “Actual ages ago now, though… it never feels like it, I had a halla’lin. His name was Honesty. He… fell… protecting me in one of the battles of the second war. While with the Dalish, Valour chose Rook. O'ro'ne'v'ra clan encourages the old lines. Valour is a war halla, just as Honesty was.”

“Oooh, shit. Valour will look a lot like Honesty?”

I shrugged. “Millenia of breeding may have changed them, I won’t know for sure until I see one.”

“And the fuck up?”

“Solas didn’t remember to warn me that they were bringing war halla in. Rook, rightly, assumed it would be painful for me. They punched Solas a good one, brought him to you, with some drama, apparently, then came to apologize and tell me personally.”

“Oooh. Ouch.”

I looked down at our intertwined fingers. “I understand how it happened. He had a bonded griffin companion who also fell in that war. Somewhere and how, Rook found a Grey Warden with a griffin cub to recruit. That… would’ve thrown Solas pretty badly.”

“He never did seem to like Wardens very much. And there’s something… Solas’s voice sounded so different one day. We were exploring a destroyed Warden stronghold in Emprise du Lion. Blackwall said something… I don’t remember what. Solas just said, ‘I hope you are right.’ But his voice was so different, like he knew they weren’t and was pretty worried about whatever they were wrong about.”

“One of us should ask him.”

“I agree. You probably have both forgotten more than I’ve ever experienced. I wonder where the Warden found the cub? I thought they were extinct.”

I tilted my head in semi-agreement. “His name is apparently As'san, and the Warden is Da’v’r’in. He’s signed on to help, so we’ll have a chance to ask.”

“So an understandable fuck up, but still a fuck up.”

“That pretty much covers it.”

“I’ll let you two sort that, okay? But I’m here for you if you need me.”

“That’d be best, yes.” I looked at her with soft wonder. “And you are. Always here for me. Ma Serrana, vhen’ar ma’ina.” (Love for my life.)

She smiled lovingly at me. “Mala el’vhen’ar ma’ina, mir’ras.” (You are the love for my life, my light.) She leaned into me to gently kiss me.

If my heart hadn’t been a ball of pain, I’d have taken her over onto the bed with me.

She pulled back and blew out her breath. “I’ll go try to salvage the recruitment of a mage extremely skilled in death magic, then.”

I wrapped my arms around her and kissed her thoroughly before letting her go.

There was only one place Solas would’ve retreated to. I pressed the concealed stones and opened the way to the temple. When I got to the bottom, sure enough, Solas sat in the deepest part of the pool, his arm laying on the ledge and his head pillowed on his bicep.

“Ir abel’as, vhen’an. Ar tel’dirth. (I’m sorry, love. I didn’t think.) I learned what happened to the griffins in the same few moments as I saw one again with my own eyes. I’d thought them gone from this world. I’d… meant to tell you that night when we dreamed. Ir abel’as.”

I shucked out of my clothes and waded into the white water with him. I sat next to him and pulled him to rest his head on my shoulder. “I understand and forgive you. I would’ve been just as thrown by seeing a war halla again. The little things down south barely qualify as the same species.”

“I don’t—”

“Ah, ah. Tel’na’v’all’em.” (Not your choice.)

He shook his head. “The pain never fades.”

“No. It doesn’t. They’re waiting for us, you know. Maybe in the same dream. Honesty getting fat on perfect grass and Ghil’an’him barrel rolling on thermals.”