Chapter One

The first time he grabbed her by the wrist and closed the Fade rift, she was hooked. She would stare into his blue-gray eyes and ask him questions about the Fade that she never thought that she – a rogue – would be interested in. Anything to keep him talking. Anything to keep his attention on her. Varric didn't take the interruptions too lightly the first few times. He knew she didn't really know anything about the Fade, or probably care much for that matter. But after a while, it was a joke between him, Bull, and Cassandra. They would ask each other strange questions about the Fade in mocking tones. Eventually, Cullen and Josephine caught on, too. They weren't making it obvious, but it was really obvious.

After the kiss in the Fade, they didn't really hide their intimacy. They were seen together everywhere – she was constantly asking him to go on missions with her, and he wouldn't miss it for the world. She often let herself get too angry, too quickly, and he was the voice of reason when needed. Most of the time, they didn't even need to speak to convey plans or messages during battles. He had never felt so comfortable with someone in his life. There wasn't a single person who could just feel what he was feeling, no questions asked. He never thought he'd be accepted, even amongst one of his own kind. She changed that, and for that, he was very glad.

"Do you think they've…you know?" A woman asked in the main hall on the way to her throne.

"Oh, you! Inquisitor Elliana's business with the elf is her own."

The elf. They acknowledged Solas as an elf, but not her. She rolled her eyes and sat down, listening to how a man threw a goat at Skyhold. He said Ellie had killed his son, who wrongfully attacked her. Their beef was with Tevinter. Not her. So, she exiled him and his kin to Tevinter with any weapons that they could carry. He appreciated the gesture.

"I think that you did the right thing," Solas said. She agreed. He didn't deserve death – all he did was throw a goat. He sipped at his tea and scrunched up his nose.

"You don't like your tea?" She asked, her voice gentle and soft.

His features softened, "No, vhenan, I do not like tea. I detest the stuff, actually."

She frowned – her first clan taught her to make tea, mostly because any sort of boiled leaf was tea and she boiled a lot of leaves in the wilderness. Tea was about the only thing she would drink. "How did you make it?"

"I just boiled the leaves."

"You didn't add sugar or milk?"

"No, my heart, I did not."

"You might like it better."

"I am not sure that I would."

"Come on, try mine. It has lots of milk and sugar."

"I…Fine. I will try it," He took a small, apprehensive sip as Ellie stared at him, not so patiently. Then, he took a much bigger sip and handed her the mug back. "It is actually not as bad as I thought."

"See! I told you! There are a bunch of different ways to drink tea, you just gotta –" He grabbed her mug out of her hands and continued drinking it. He could barely see her shocked face over his drink.

"It is actually very good this way."

"Aww, you drank my tea, you meanie."

"Come," He spread his arms and invited her into them. She sat on his lap, curled in a ball with her head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart, and feeling the calm of his chest rise and fall with each breath. He tucked her long, orange-red hair behind her ear, and moved his hand under her chin. Her hair was much longer than he originally thought – she used to wear it in several braids that she tied together before he convinced her to let it down. It was long and spring-curled. It made her pale, olive-toned skin seem so much paler.

He kissed her, softly at first, but it got deeper, harder. Rushed. Like he was afraid she would disappear if he didn't wrap his hands in her hair and hold her as close as he could. His heart beat picked up pace, and she could hear it against his chest as he carried her towards the bed. They had always gotten this far, but never any further. He would turn away, close his eyes, rubs his temples. And then he'd ask for space. He said several times that he didn't want to hurt her – that she didn't know what she was getting into and he would end up hurting her, and he couldn't do that to her. No matter how much she said she understood, he noticed her lower lip pouting when she sulked back to her room.

But tonight was different. He was ready, he told himself. He would. And no more hiding the truth. She would understand – right?

Her hands were cold as she pulled his shirt over his head and traced over his muscles lightly with her fingertips as she lay underneath his weight, comforted by the scent of him. His body shivered in pleasure more and more as she kept moving lower. And then she stopped.

"If you're uncomfortable, we don't have to."

A pained expression crossed his face briefly, but still long enough for her to see it. Ellie took that as her queue to stop, and as she was moving out from underneath him, he grabbed her hands and held them above her head, nipping at the base of her neck. He pulled her shirt up, far enough to see her bare chest. He followed down, kissing every bit of exposed skin that he could. Every bit of her that he could taste, that he would remember forever. He didn't stop as he removed her pants in one quick motion, continuing downwards until he stopped, right between her legs. He paused and closed his eyes, holding his breath.

"We don't have to," She said again quietly, "we can –" She cut herself off with a moan, immediately grabbing onto his shoulder, twisting her other hand into the sheets. "Oh, Maker," She whimpered quietly, as he lightly flicked his tongue around the most sensitive area. He was enjoying it a lot more than he thought he would. After a few minutes, she was begging him; "just fuck me already." He had to admit, he rather liked when she begged.

With her pinned under his weight, her cheeks reddened and her hair messy, he felt…content. He hadn't felt a feeling like it in so many years, that no matter how long it lasted, it would be over too soon. It was a good thing they decided to meet in her room that afternoon – his room offered no peace, with the entire upstairs being able to look down the railing at him. She smiled, kissing his chin, "Ma'arlath, emma lath."

He could feel his insides melting, the hard exterior he built – spent centuries walling around himself – melted. This tiny little elf with bright red, spring-curled hair, and too-long ears, and soft, cold hands, who always smelled like vanilla and flowers, even in the heat of battle…she did this to him. And he liked it. He could feel the beast inside quell. It was calm, and so was he. Even it liked her. His release left him so drained that he barely rolled off of Ellie before falling asleep

Of course, with Solas in the Fade, her dreams were far from boring. And she didn't have to worry about missing him. They explored ancient elven ruins, and he taught her about the things her clan did not. They sat on a rock and watched the fish swimming in a small pond in the forest while they talked about the battle with Corypheus and where they would go after that, what they thought would happen.

But she woke up alone. There was a note on her end table that read, All new, faded for her. He was gone, presumably back to his own room. She found him there, angrily pounding on his desk.

"I need a favor," He said before he even turned around to see that it was her.

"Anything, love."

"My friend was summoned by mages. They're torturing her."

"Your friend?"

"Yes. It is a spirit of wisdom, but they have summoned it for something far worse and I fear it is corrupted now. We need to help it. It is torturing my friend."

"Let's go help her out."

"Thank you so much," He planted a kiss on her forehead.

Solas, Inquisitor Elliana, Bull, and Dorian reached the exalted plains in no time. Solas started leading them towards where his friend was when Dorian spoke up.

"Ellie."

"Yes?"

"Are you an Andrastian?"

"No."

"Hm. Alright, then what do you believe?"

"I'm not sure," She shrugged, "My clan taught us all sorts of Elven gods and goddesses. Elgar'nan is the god of fatherhood and vengeance. Mythal is a protector. She's the goddess of motherhood and justice. Do I believe that they both come down when elves give birth? No."

"Don't you always say…something when you kill an enemy? Sounds elven."

"I've talked of both Fen'Harel and Falon'Din."

"And what of them?"

"Fen'Harel is the Dread Wolf. His story says that he created a truce between the Creators and the Forgotten Ones, and tricked them – sealing them away forever. I once travelled with a clan who's First called 'Dread Wolf take you' when defeating an enemy. Falon'Din is the guide of the dead."

"Oh, that's funny. Because all of Skyhold heard your calls to the Maker last night."

Iron Bull snorted, "Good job, buddy. We were all betting when it would happen," He clapped a hand to Solas's shoulder, "Varric owes me some money."

"I am glad that you had your fun with it," Solas was upset, but he was more upset about his friend at the moment. Being with Ellie wasn't something he was ashamed of – he was ashamed that they had turned it – and her – into a big joke.

"There she is," Solas pointed ahead at a large demon surrounded by ice pillars, "She is bound. We must take out the pillars to destroy the summoning," He said as a group of mages tried to explain to him how summoning a spirit worked. He ignored them the best he could – his friend needed saving as soon as possible.

"I know how this looks to someone who doesn't study summoning spirits – " Ellie punched the mage right in the nose before dusting off her clothes.

"Okay. So, I need you to keep us alive. Bull and I will charge in from the front. Dorian, stay as far back as you can and attack the pillar that we're on."

"Please, do not do anything to get hurt. I'll try to keep her distracted," He kissed her forehead before she activated her stealth and ran in front of the demon, attacking the nearest pillar.

After the ice pillars went down, the demon fell to the ground, slowly taking the shape of a young woman. Solas talked to her in Elven and after a minute, he hung his head and his expression turned dark. He held out his hands, and she began disintegrating, flying off in the wind piece by piece.

"You killed my friend!" He bellowed at the mages, his eyes searching theirs for an answer. When there was none, he charged at them, exploding the group into flames. Ellie didn't bother to stop him. "I…I will meet you back at Skyhold, vhenan. I must tend to some other matters right now," He didn't meet her gaze.

She wrapped her arms around him, "Okay. Just be careful. And…come home soon."

Home. He liked that.

When Ellie, Dorian, and Bull returned to Skyhold, they each departed to their own rooms for the day, and on her way to her room, Varric called her over to a table by a fireplace. She had a seat, looking at him expectantly – and she expected it was something to do with her and Solas, since that seemed to be a common topic of interest among everyone that day.

"Your Inquisitorialness," He greeted, cheerfully enough.

"Hey, Varric."

He pulled out a chair and stood beside it for a moment, a dark expression crawling across his face, "Hey, Little Red. I don't really know how to say this, so I'm going to apologize in advance if anything comes out…wrong."

"You're a writer," She laughed, "Don't you know how to word everything?"

"No. That's a common misconception," He smiled, "But, really. If I were you…I don't know if I would trust Chuckles all that much."

She knitted her eyebrows together, "Why not?"

"Well…you remember how I told you about my friend, Hawke? Marian was her first name."

"Yeah, I remember."

"And remember the guy who blew up the Chantry in Kirkwall?"

"Yeah…"

"His name was Anders, and he was a mage. Do you know what you and Marian have in common? You both fell for mages, and they both give me the same strange…vibe. Chuckles is nice and all, but so was Anders. Before he went nuts and blew up the Chantry."

"But…Solas isn't like – "

"I know. He isn't like that. Anders let a spirit named Justice take over his body. And that worries me with Chuckles always talking about the Fade and friendly spirits and such. I'm just worried about you, that's all."

"Thank you, Varric. I'm going to retire to my room for the evening."

"Hey, if you don't mind me asking…where is the party in question right now?"

"Solas? He had some things to take care of."

Varric looked surprised, "And he didn't take you? I haven't seen you two apart since we've come to Skyhold."

"Weird, right?" She pushed in her chair, "I'll talk to you later, Varric."

That night, the left side of her bed was empty for the first time in weeks. It was so strange and large, being able to spread out. She wondered if Solas could manipulate the Fade for her from wherever he was. Or even if she could do it on her own, with her anchor. But the Fade was dangerous and she had no experience to warp it on her own. The apprehension of Solas returning in the middle of the night was keeping her awake though.

When she finally fell asleep, all she could dream about was darkness. There was nothing else except darkness and a pair of glowing red…circles. She was almost certain they were eyes…maybe an animal's? They stared at her all night until she finally woke up, never wavering or blinking, never leaving her sight. They just stared on. It was almost like they saw through her. It made her feel cold, but…comfortable, somehow. Like she was familiar with the eyes of the animal.

Still no Solas in the morning. No Solas when her, Bull, Dorian, and Varric ventured out into the Hinterlands to deliver some provisions to their camps out there and make sure the soldiers were alright. No Solas when she returned and went to sleep. Maybe she could invoke him through the Fade? Was that a thing? Sometimes she wished she was a mage so she knew these things better. Without Solas there to ask, there wasn't really anyone who could answer her. Dorian admitted he never tried to invoke anything through the Fade and he wasn't really prepared to do so himself – let alone teach her when she didn't inherently have the ability to dream as mages did.

In her dream, she tried to call out Solas's name – but whether she was just dreaming or physically in the Fade was a completely different issue and she didn't really know how to tell the difference. She didn't think in depth about the Fade before that moment because she never had to. Demons and spirits couldn't corrupt her as they could mages. She crawled over a mossy rock and into a patch of woods. Wolves howled, signaling the setting sun, and like the night before, it was pitch black. The eyes were back. This time, she tried to walk towards them, but she never got any closer. It was like she took two steps forward, and the animal took two steps back.

When she woke up, Solas was back. He was sitting in the arm chair beside her bed, a thin blanket draped around his shoulders. His eyes were slightly cracked open, as though her quiet stirring had awoken him.

"Vhenan," He said, his voice cracked with sleepiness.

"You're back!" She moved over and patted the empty space on her bed, "Lie down with me."

"Do you not have plans today?"

She knitted her brows together, trying to remember what was going on, "I do, but that's not until later."

"It is late afternoon, my dear. We must be waking."

"Late afternoon?" She asked. There was no way it was late afternoon – she went to bed before it even got dark outside.

"Yes. I fear you have been in a deep sleep."

"Were you controlling the Fade while I was asleep?"

"No. I have not been here that long."

"I've been having the same dream. It's just a pair of red animal eyes staring at me through darkness."

"Does the animal attack?"

"No. I cannot see anything other than it's eyes."

"Then how are you certain it is an animal? Could it not be human or elf?"

"I'm not sure. It feels…animalistic. I feel like I've seen the eyes before though. Like I know the owner."

"That certainly is strange."

There was a knock at the door – Josephine. She said if they wanted to be on time, they had to get up at that exact moment. If Josephine wasn't so…pushy, the inquisitor would not have met half of her deadlines or meetings or contacts. She didn't say it, but she appreciated Josephine's promptness. She was half the reason she was as well-known as she was.