I want to thank all readers, and welcome you to this new story. This is a post-game story featuring a female Lavellan and Dorian friendship, after romance with Solas. If any have you have read Fen'harel and Little Red, this is the follow-up. There isn't really need to read the other first however- though it can help.

Translation on title: Loveless, or Unloved. Taken from Latin, which is (as I'm sure quite noted) quite close to Tevene.

Endgame spoilers. Obviously. Mostly for Dorian and Solas. And I do promise this will earn its rating later for adult thoughts and thematic elements...

Enjoy!

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Inquisitor Fen'vhenan Lavellan was hiding in her own room. It was ingenious. She was there rarely enough no one would look for her here. It was quiet, calm. Stunning really. She hid under the luxurious covers of her bed and pulled her head completely underneath. It was warm here too. She liked that. Warm, quiet, and nobody to disturb...

The thought was pushed aside as the door opened. Vhen grumbled in her head, wondering why the intrusive individual would decline to knock, but said nothing in hopes whoever it was would simply go away. Instead the covers were snatched, not at the top but at the bottom, exposing her overly sensitive feet. "Oh how wicked." Kaffas. Dorian.

"Nonononononono." Vhen shoved the covers off. "I'm getting up, see? I'll..."

"But such cute feet! They need attention!" He proceeded to gently move his fingers along the arches, and Vhen couldn't help squirming and laughing. "I'm not doing anything," he noted in some amusement.

"You know very well what you're doing Dorian. Let me go." She said the last with a kick, pushing the mage away as she leapt up until she was standing on the bed. "I don't want to come down."

"I know, but you slew the dragons. Everyone is talking about how safe the Hinterlands and the Fens and...so on... are now thanks to you, and you should be there to congratulate. You deserve it, dragon-hunter. Besides, you'll tell the tale better than Varric."

"He isn't..."

"Oh he is. Talking about it almost like he was there, while saying he wasn't. It's amusing actually. The Iron Bull is... helping?... him?"

Vhen leapt out of bed to the mirror, immediately working on the most intricate braid Leliana had taught her. "Ok. I guess this I must see. Would you mind terribly if I ask you check the closet? I'm sure you'll find something more appropriate than this." She sighed at the beige, which had never been her color. Dorian nodded, rummaging into the wardrobe and immediately spotting what he knew would be perfect. Black leggings. Silver-white tunic. And a beautiful cincher made of dragon-skin with the crest of a great dragon; it seemed a lovely shimmering blue. It was exactly right. He set it in front of Vhen as she turned, almost laughing. "Really?"

"It makes your statement soras." Soras. Sister.

"As you say lethallin." She quickly shed her top, knowing he wouldn't care if she was even nude. She changed quickly enough, getting assistance from Dorian pulling the corset strings. He finally offered an arm and escorted her downstairs and then across to Herald's Rest.

The festivities were already well in hand. Tonight they were celebrating dragon hunting as well as Varric's last night at Skyhold before heading for Kirkwall. Leliana had already left for a small Chantry cloister is Orlais for a quiet respite, her decision backed by Cassandra as the newly initiated Divine Victoria- leaving the tavern, after tonight, as Sera's hub of operations as the spymaster of the Inquisition.

"Wolfy! You made it!" Varric greeted brightly, taking her hand and pulling the elf from Dorian's grasp. "Please help me educate this rabble on what a real story sounds like."

Before the elf knew it she had been coaxed onto the the bar, lifted there by The Iron Bull. She stood tall, her words floating through the tavern as she regaled with some of the childish tales she had been brought up on. It rang out, her voice musical in its quality; Varric added his own inserts as she spoke, even taking notes. She was good at this. Almost as good as he was, and infinitely more flexible in changing to her audience. As the mood quieted she slid to a sitting position and let the dwarf take over on more recent events, though she did aide him in the tales of her supposed exploits.

His tellings were ridiculous.

"I never stared down a dragon," Fen'vhenan insisted. "Solas..." Her words stopped.

Dorian finished the thought. "Solas never would have let you." He said it softly, and Vhen simply nodded before reaching back for another cider from the bar. The tender anticipated her action, the mug meeting her hand. If only she didn't have the crazy resistance to alcohol she would probably be superbly drunk right now- wouldn't care. As it was she actually minded. She always did. Having too much to drink would be a blessing.

Cole had gone, returned to the Fade after much deliberation with the single goal of finding and aiding Fen'vhenan's lost love. Not until after the kind spirit had returned some very important memories of her time with the elvhen apostate, however.

She knew everything. She had even gone to extra lengths, having Vivienne examine the anchor before heading back to take up the post of Grand Enchanter, learning it's true origin and purpose. At least what Vhen could infer from combining her knowledge with the enchantress' explanations of how the anchor "seems to connect not to the Fade, but to an individual." It had been the final needed clue. It was also what she hadn't told a single soul.

The Dread Wolf had never bothered Vhen, nor did the knowledge that Solas was he. What did hurt a bit was him leaving without explanation and trying to manipulate her into remaining with falsehoods instead of talking to her. It was frustrating. She wondered if it would have been different had he known how alone she would be.

"Soras! Sera is threatening to bug my quarters if I don't get you to dance this silly dance with her. I'm not sure if she means monitoring me or placing weevils, so please help me not find out."

Maybe not quite alone, Fen'vhenan mused as she downed her drink in a few gulps and slid to the floor to grab Sera's arm. It was a silly, spinning set of footwork her fellow rogue pulled her into, and it felt invigorating. It was completely different to who she had been before, yet it was also natural. Vhen couldn't help the smile even as she dizzied and the armhold was released sending the slight red-head crashing into Dorian's waiting grasp. No. Definitely not completely alone.