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Magic Within 

With the Anchor, the air felt cleaner, she breathed easier, and when she cast, it was like she was born from the Fade itself.

Pulling on the Fade had always been easy for her and the Anchor made it even easier.

Closing her eyes and pulling from the magic within, she projected the other, hidden side of the Veil around herself.

Opening her eyes, experiencing the greater Fade and seeing all of the spirits that were constantly keeping her invisible company.

She wondered what would happen if she pushed herself, could she hear or smell what was always kept hidden?

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Freedom

When Ellana looked into the eyes of a tranquil she saw the same ones of a Tevinter slave or those involuntarily under the Qun. The eyes may change shape and color but the cloudiness and distance were the same. Windows that may never see freedom screaming out to ears that were unable or unwilling to hear or understand.

Ellana sits across from one mage tranquil sent to serve within the Inquisition. The eyes bore into Ellana awaiting her command. Orbs that seem neither awake nor sleep, stare into her living ones, never quite free and never able to taste freedom.

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Pride

Solas stood before another one of his failures, his stare intense as a winters chill. The person that laid before him was a living being, yet, they had also become another casualty of his war.

They pleaded for his mercy, hoping Solas would help them. "Please, help me Fen'Harel," they moaned with rasping breaths and trembling lips.

But all Solas saw was defeat. And when beaten, one must forget and endure. With his chin held high, his shoulders back, and his chest pushed out; he stood tall with his legs spread wide. And he wiped his failure from the record.

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Acceptance

The rain dripped from her lashes and down her cheeks, mixing with tears as the wetness dripped from her chin. The final letter from Wycome hung limply from her bitten nails, cuticles bleeding and raw. Ellana had lost everyone she had before those fated events at the Conclave and with it, the only identity that she had that wasn't forced upon her. The only part of her left was Inquisitor, and that was what she would need to be. As her former lover told her; she must steel her heart and she must endure. Thus, she must learn to accept.

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Finally Worthy, Finally Free

With his back bent, the lone man avoided eye contact with her as he stared at the ground. He bowed his head and hesitated for a moment, hoping the sound of his voice would not change her mind. He whispered, "After all I did wrong? After I betrayed you, you choose me still?"

"Solas, there is nothing you can do to earn worthiness nor lose it. My love for you is freely given. I choose this and I choose you," she responded with a soft smile and a gentle caress to his cheek. Finally free, Solas leaned into her embrace.

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Elvhen Glory

"Bet he cries out 'Elvhen glory!' when he does it."

It was meant to be a jest, but deep down those words wounded Solas. It was not about glory, it was about atonement. A mistake that cost the lives of the Elvhen and led them down a path of subjugation and submission in a world Void-bent on punishing them for actions of mages they have never met. Exalted March after march, relegated to be pushed into the outskirts of society was all the glory that was left.

So no, he does not cry out, "Elvhen glory!" when he does it.

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Refrain

He needed to abstain. He had to will himself to desist. Duty commanded him to withhold. Yet late in the sultry night, when those large violet eyes pleaded with him in the dark, he succumbed to the call of her gaze. To be both seen and fully known, the temptation of being understood became a greater motivator than the desire to maintain his prideful refrain. So there he sat as her grace washed over his lofty form. Soaking in her presence, his greedy hands grasped incessantly at her angelic form. Unable to refuse, he ate at her table until morning

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1. Day One: Eight Years

For eight years he watched and for eight years she waited; waiting, praying, and hoping for an opportunity to change the Dread Wolf's heart. Yet Solas considered her his heart and for eight years she never changed, so how could he. For eight years, the mage toiled and planned, while the woman fought and labored. For eight years, he dodged her, but he also trailed after her; waiting, praying, and hoping that she could change the Dread Wolf's heart. Of course, Ellana never could convince him, but how could she when she was his heart and she could never change.

2. Ancient Arlathan

Solas had mentioned to Lavellan the night before, in a stolen moment with barely enough time to complete the sentence before Mythal called him away, how beautiful he thought her hair looked braided so intricately. He spared a glance as the doors closed, she was gazing at the polished floors her cheeks burning red. Now Lavellan stood to the right of Mythal holding a platter of small cakes for the mistress and her guests to share, her hair intricately braided. She snuck a glance at him, her lashes barely moving and he let her see just how pleased he was.

3. Regrets of the Dread Wolf

There were some regrets Solas cherished more than his victories and as he stood in the prison of his regrets, he gazed up at a statue of his most adored sorrow. A stone effigy of his vhenan bore down on him as he focused up on her image. He could hear her begging and pleading with him to stay, to listen, to change his mind; and he could hear all the silent moments shared between the two of them. Ellana deserved more than what Solas was ever willing to give her but he would not trade these regrets for anything.

4. The Inexorable Throne

Whenever Ellana sat in judgment she would often look into the crowd and search for her closest confidant and more recently the man she had grown to call "vhenan." Solas had mentored her to stay strong in the pinnacle of unavoidable responsibility. There, in the back of the room, she found her target. His piercing eyes focused on her, and with a smirk, he gave her a nod.

"Trust your spirit vhenan," he would always whisper to her. Thus, Ellana chose to trust her heart and she announced to the entire world what that indomitable spirit believed to be right.

5. Chains

Ellana did not immediately realize that there was the chance that Solas may have inadvertently bound himself to her. Or vice versa, she was not sure. Nevertheless, the chains of their joining pulled at her wrists whenever she dared to consider another or turn her duty away from pursuing the Dread Wolf. Any time this occurred, there he was either in her dreams or haunting her in the waking, reminding her of the way they were connected and how she would never be free. Their love had turned into a curse, and the shackles of that malediction would never shatter.

6. Eyes in the Night

Six shining sapphire eyes watched from the pitch black of the night. Too far to focus on and too far to touch, they prowled and stalked. Ellana was afraid the first time she saw it and remained silent under its nefarious gaze. By the third time, she grew curious wondering who or what this mysterious creature was. As her curiosity grew, so did her courage and one day she called out to it, "Who are you?" but received no answer, only slow blinks and labored breathing. Then one day, she realized, she had caught the eye of the Dread Wolf.

7. Mirrors

He knelt before the mirror, at the base a small sketch of her, created from charcoal and shame. A reflection of candles illuminated the shadows of his eyes and the grimace across his lips. Naked before the glass, a light sheen covered his skin, a duplicated image of him. He reached for himself, prostrated at the throne of her brilliance. The evidence of his self-inflicted humiliation decorated the floor as her gaze chastised him for deserting his duty. Alone, he sat in silence, waiting for the loathing to pass and for her eyes to show him the mercy he craved.

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Abundance

Ellana scanned the packed room and noticed how full the space had become over the course of the previous year. With a grin and a flushed face she observed the faces of the friends she had grown to cherish and value. They were all present, all but one; even so, she felt the plentiful adoration that emanated from the cheerful celebrants.

After losing her clan, Ellana could not imagine finding a new group she could regard as a tribe. Yet, there they were, celebrating her victory. With a drink in hand, she approached the crowd and absorbed the abundant love.