Author's Note: This fic was written in like two days, with some revision, though not much. A scenario like this has been playing in my head for weeks. Personally, I hate Solas. But I can understand his appeal, and I thought it would be interesting to write a romance fic for him. I didn't want to make it "normal." It had to be... "Fade-touched." Solas is NOT mortal, so his love would not be mortal. It would not be common, and that's what I was trying to get across. Also, I made this Trevelyan/Solas because it's not a common pairing from what I've seen and having fall in love with a human was an interesting idea. This whole this rather rushed, and I may go back at some point and add more to it, but I wanted to get it posted as is for now.

May the Dread Wolf Take You

Nightmares plagued Evelyn every night, as they had since the destruction of Haven. She lay in her bed in Skyhold, sweat upon her brow, whimpering in her sleep. Being a Mage, lucid dreaming came naturally to her, but instead of making the nightmares go away, being aware of them only made them worse. She knew that the Fade reflected people's emotions back at them, and having listened to many tales of Solas' adventures in this place, she had tried and failed many times to accept the Demons for what they were, so that they would become Spirits instead. It never worked.

She would fall asleep, and wake up in the Fade, surrounded by them. Demons who shouted in the voices of her friends, who took their shape and slit their own throats. Or they took the shape of Corypheus, large and looming, and stared down at her, inches from her face. She would curl into a ball at their feet, their screaming echoing in her ears, and eventually, her fear would awaken her. She'd wake up with a jolt, sit up in bed, and stare around herself, making sure that she was truly in the Waking World, and that this was not another trick of the Fade. And then she would go about being the Inquisitor, having meetings in the War Room, speaking to her friends, seeing that they had enough supplies.

But they began to notice the dark circles under her eyes, the way she stared into nothingness sometimes, feeling bone-weary. And they cared, and they worried, but none of their solutions helped. She'd tried everything – calming tea, some herbs that were supposed to induce heavy sleep, keeping a dream journal, talking about the nightmares with them. Nothing ever helped. Every night she dreaded sleeping, and awoke in the Fade to Demons terrorizing her. She began to accept that perhaps it would always be this way. Maybe her Mark drew Demons to her. She couldn't know for sure. All she knew was that even if she never slept properly again, she had to keep being the Inquisitor, the Herald, even if she hated both titles. She had to be the savior everyone wanted. She would not shirk her duties.

Solas was the one who seemed the most interested in her nightmares. This didn't surprise Evelyn at all. He was, after all, the one who spent the most time in the Fade out of all of them combined. He would stand and listen quietly as she spoke of what troubled her on a nightly basis. He didn't even say anything if she cried, which she sometimes did. He would very awkwardly place a hand on her shoulder, lightly, as if afraid to touch her. But when he did, it immediately calmed her. She would stem the flow of tears, wipe her face, and plaster on a smile. And she knew by the look in his eyes that he could see right past that façade. But he said nothing about it, and for that she was grateful. He would leave a lingering hand on her shoulder for but a moment more, and then his eyes would flicker and he would bring it back to his side.

Solas was… a bit of a mystery to her. She never quite knew what he thought about, well, anything, really. The only thing he ever talked about at great length was the Fade. If he didn't like something someone said or did, he was quick to voice his opinion, and there had been more than one occasion where his biting tongue had been aimed at her. But he had also told her that he respected her. And he never turned her away when she wanted to speak to him. She listened to his stories eagerly, and sometimes even earned a laugh or two from him. Yet there was something so profoundly sad about him, something old and hidden that showed itself every now and then. A dimming of his eyes, or a very long sigh. But then he would straighten, give her a peculiar look, as if wondering if she had noticed, and then ask if she needed anything else. Many times she had tried to think of a way to ask him if he was all right. She would stare at him with an open mouth for a few moments, and then give up with a sigh of her own. Whatever he kept hidden inside was none of her business. It wasn't anyone's business but his. And so she never said a word about it.

Curled into a ball as they screamed, Evelyn cried and shook and put her arms over her head. One of them kicked her, and she flinched and whimpered, but did not cry out. Cassandra's voice called her a worthless coward. Cullen said she wasn't fit to lead them. Varric laughed, but his laugh was unfamiliar and frightening. Dorian called her all manner of bad names, words that tore her down and ripped her open. Sera was stabbing her with an arrow. And it was Iron Bull who had kicked her, and was still kicking her. Josephine told her that her family hated her. It was so loud she couldn't think, and only rocked and held herself there, and willed herself to wake up.

A new noise broke the through the roaring of the crowd around her. It sounded like… growling? Barking? What in Thedas…? What new Demon had come to torment her now? She kept herself where she was, not looking up. She didn't want to know. Any minute, she expected it to start gnawing on her hand or something. That didn't happen. The Demons were… fleeing? One by one, she could feel their overwhelming presences flying back to whence they had come. The voices of her friends grew quiet, as did the snarling sound of whatever beast had come near. She swallowed and shakily and lowered her arms from around her head, and looked around.

There was a… giant wolf lying on the ground beside her. Its fur was a light brown, and when it gazed in her direction, its eyes were clear and blue. An odd coloration for a wolf. Of course, this was the Fade, so nothing had to make sense. It held her gaze for a long moment, and she felt only peace exude from its being. Perhaps it was a Spirit of Protection. Or perhaps it was a part of herself, lashing out at the Demons who had tormented her for so long. She didn't care, either way. She sat up fully, and without thinking, wrapped her arms around the Great Wolf's neck and held it.

The Beast did not growl, nor pull away. He – for the creature was a male, whether a Spirit or not – simply lay still, and allowed her to hold him. After a time, she pulled away from her savior, and they sat in silence. The Fade worked in strange ways, this she knew, and because she was aware that she was Dreaming, she reached out with her mind, to his own. His thoughts were expansive and stretched for thousands of years. Whoever or whatever this creature was, he had lived far longer than anything else in the world. Quickly, she pulled her mind back to herself, for fear of being lost in his head forever. And she heard him chuckle. And the chuckle was… familiar.

"What are you?" she asked Him.

He looked at her, and his eyes were old and sad and spoke of many things. He said nothing.

She understood then, that His identity was His alone. She accepted this and placed a hand on His back. The Wolf's eyes closed in contentment, and they sat quietly side-by-side, until she awoke.

Many nights passed this way, until the Wolf's presence had become the norm. No longer did Evelyn fear sleep. The Demons tormented her still, but only for a few moments. When she awoke in the Fade every night, she lay still and waited. It had taken at least a week for her to begin expecting Him show up, and for that first week, before He came to save her, she was still a young woman terrified of Demons, crying and trying her best to protect herself. And then He would be there, growling and snapping and chasing them off. She looked at Him once when there were still Demons around, and He was frightening then – a big, dark, monstrous creature with eyes like ice. His body was large and powerful and He had fangs the size of her forearm. When the last of the Demons was gone, fleeing with terrified screeches, He turned to her, and His eyes immediately softened. She watched in fascination as He became smaller, though still much larger than a regular wolf, His fur lightened, and His eyes became the color of the sky.

He would sit before her, eyes understanding and intelligent, and wait. Slowly she would stop shaking, crawl to her knees, and fall upon Him. His presence would calm her, and then she would talk to Him until her dream ended. She told Him… everything. All about the Inquisition, and her part in it. About her friends. She would wonder aloud why the Demons that tormented her always took the shape of those she knew. Why not take the shape of a Bear, or some other terrifying, large animal? Why did they always assume the shapes of people, with voices that shouted and feet that kicked? Of course, she already knew the answer to that. Demons only reflected a person's own emotions and thoughts and experiences back at them. They took the shape of those she loved the most, screaming her own fears at her, or doing her physical harm, because these were what they could reflect. The Demons studied her mind, and chose those fears, laid bare by mock images of those she loved, because it was all the Demons knew of her.

This is why Solas had explained to her that entering the Fade with no misconceptions or preconceived notions would lessen her nightmares, and perhaps end them entirely. If one accepted a Spirit for what it was, and did not attempt to impose one's own thoughts onto it, it did not become a Demon. It did not attempt to shift itself to match its host's imagination. But, clearly, Evelyn had no skill for this sort of thing. She had tried and failed to enter the Fade with an open heart and an open mind, but without proper training or practice, all that did was bleed her experiences outward, giving the Demons more fodder instead of taking it away.

This is why the Wolf's presence was so… peculiar. If He was some kind of Spirit, then He had somehow figured out how to block the emotional connection between Himself and Evelyn. She didn't even know that was possible, to enter the Fade in a dream, and have it not bend itself around her mind, to fit her thoughts. And if it wasn't possible for a Spirit to block such a connection to her, then the Wolf was not a Spirit. Which left the question: What was He? Who was He? Anytime she asked this question, He would turn to look at her with those eyes like the sky on a clear day, beautiful and expansive, stretching forever. If He was a Spirit, she imagined that perhaps He was the first Spirit that had ever existed. But He told her nothing. He allowed her glimpses into His mind, His thoughts, and those glimpses left her reeling. She could not make heads or tails of the way His mind worked.

Though, over time, she did feel one emotion exude from Him like a wave: He cared for her. When she pressed against this emotion, to see where it led, He would cut the flow of His mind. He did not wish to explain Himself to her. Eventually, she learned to stop pushing. He would chase the Demons away, and then they would sit. She would talk, and He would listen, every now and then offering mental images or emotions to her words, to show that He was paying attention. He would offer wordless advice, or simple acknowledgement. And through her dreams, they grew closer.

The only problem was, in the morning, she would forget her dreams. During the day, she remained blissfully unaware that she had met and was in close contact with some kind of Being in the Fade. But she was happy, because she no longer suffered nightmares – at least none she could remember. At night, in dreaming, the memories of the Wolf, and the Demons He chased from her, would come flooding back, and she would be over-joyed to see Him, speak to Him, run her fingers through His fur. Under normal circumstances, the fact that He was a Wolf would have made her question herself for caring for Him. Under normal circumstances, this sort of interaction between a human being and animal would be very wrong. But this was the Fade. Just because He assumed the shape of a Wolf did not make him a Wolf. Indeed, He was anything but. She knew, though He never proved it to her, that He could take the shape of whatever form He wished. He could become a human being, a sparrow, a deer, a dragon. He came to her as a Wolf for reasons He did not share with her, and she did not ask him to. And she knew that He was the one who made her forget in the morning.

Many times, she begged Him to let her keep her memories of Him. Always, He would respond by turning to face her, and His eyes would grow darker, and sadder, and He would shake His head once – No. And then He would rest His muzzle on the top of her head, and breathe, and she would hold Him. But she was never quite content. There was always something about Him that was just out of her reach. It took her months to realize what it was, probably because He had been erasing her memories in the morning, but when she finally made the connection, it was… astounding. And she could have slapped herself for being so oblivious.

"Have you had anymore nightmares?" Solas asked her when she came down to see him one morning. He had asked her the same question every morning for the past two months.

Evelyn laughed. She'd gone through confusion, annoyance, and then acceptance over this question. The first few times he'd asked her, she had been grateful for his concern. Truly, Solas didn't actively concern himself with the others in the Inquisition all that often. He'd probably only been interested in her nightmares because they had to do with the Fade. Not that he didn't care about anyone else – only he was very closed off, and not often willing to open himself to others. Too many bad experiences, he'd said. And she believed him. His life had been a hard one, of that she was certain.

After those first few queries into the status of her nightmares, though, she'd grown annoyed with him about it, asking him why he felt it was necessary to bring it up after she'd stopped having them for weeks. He had… gazed at her then, and his eyes were the eyes of someone much older than he looked – someone who had experienced far more of life than any one man ever could. He looked, then, like a man who had lived a thousand lifetimes. And she had felt horrible for being annoyed at him. She'd reached out and touched his shoulder, as he had done to her so many times, and a flicker of a smile had caught his lips.

Now, when he asked her if she had had any nightmares, it felt like they were sharing a secret. Always she told him she had not had any nightmares in months, and always he smiled and said, "Good." But his eyes were sad and lonely and some truth lay hidden in them that she could never figure out before he looked away from her…

But this morning was different. This morning, he gave her that melancholy smile and asked her if she'd had any nightmares. She said no, and he said that this was good, and he looked at her with darker eyes than usual. And something about those eyes were… very familiar. He turned to look away from her, but when she stepped nearer to him, studying him closely, his eyes flicked back to hers, flitted over her face, eyebrows drawn together.

Those eyes of sky blue, expansive and endless… as if He had lived… a thousand lifetimes. Evelyn let out a wordless gasp and shaking fingers brushed his cheek. Solas looked down at her stoically, then closed his eyes against her touch. She began to cry, softly, more out of shock than for any other reason. He opened His eyes again at the sound of her crying, and His eyes were full of sorrow and some hidden knowledge He had that she did not, the same expression He had within the Fade.

Evelyn whispered, "Why?"

His voice was quiet and gentle. "You know the reason. You were suffering from nightmares. I came to stop them."

"Why as a Wolf?"

He chuckled softly. "You will know the reason for that, in time."

She hesitated. "Why did you stay, once the Demons were gone?"

For once, Solas' eyes darkened with an emotion that was not sadness. He bent his head down and was a hair's breadth from her lips before she turned her head away. He stood up straight again, and looked at her. He opened his mouth to speak.

Evelyn placed a finger against his lips, and smiled. "Not here. I don't know what you are, Solas, but doing this here could be… very dangerous. Only in dreaming. Only in the Fade."

Solas captured her hand with his own and held it to his chest.

That night He came to her not as a Wolf, but as Himself. Yet He was not the Solas she knew in the waking world. This Solas was… larger – not in physical size, but in the way his Presence pressed against her like a wave. He was powerful here, powerful in ways she could not imagine. Evelyn knew then, indeed she had known since that morning, that Solas was not really all He seemed. Solas was an Elf, but He was not. He was… more. He carried so much inside of Himself that He was full to bursting, and the power He exuded escaped His body in the Fade.

That night she found herself in the Fade without the Demons who tormented her. She 'awoke,' and sat up, looking around. She was in the same place she always was, except that it was exceedingly quiet. Knowing what she did now, she Reached Out for Him. And He appeared, and his Presence flooded her – her body – her mind – her Spirit. She gasped at the feel of Him, reached for Him with shaking fingers. And once more she whispered the question that had graced her lips many times before: "What are You?"

He smiled at her, though He said nothing. He came to her, and wordlessly, desperately kissed her. In the Fade, every emotion is compounded on itself. His feelings for her came crashing down around her body, and He consumed her with them. His feelings of love, and melancholy, and lust. Somehow she found herself on a bed, one that He had conjured effortlessly, for this very purpose.

There was so much of Him that she could not think clearly. Floods of thoughts and feelings washed against her, until she was a gasping mess against Him. And He was inside her, and He was Inside her, thrusting against her, her body, and mind, and soul. And she was His, only His, kept within His clutches because He made it so. Here, in the Fade, He could do as He pleased, and none of it had to make sense in the waking world. He made love to her for so long that her mind went numb, and all she knew was pleasure. The feel of Him all around her. His breath, His mind, His body, His soul, thrusting inside, against, more, ever more. So much of Himself did He pour into her, again, and again, His breath loud and echoing in her ears…

Evelyn awoke, a sheen of sweat glistening on every bit of skin on her body. She lay in her bed for a very long time, almost afraid to go down and see Him. Eventually, though, she swung her legs over the bed, stood on unsteady feet, and made her way slowly to the door, down the hall and shook as she padded down the steps of the tower. She leaned heavily on the doorframe as she glanced about the room. She did not see Him. "Solas?" she called, voice trembling.

From behind her, she felt Him wrap His arms around her, and she gasped, heart pounding.

"I was getting breakfast, loathe as I am to eat. Unfortunately, this body needs sustenance." His voice was barely above a whisper, and He spoke against her ear.

"This body," she echoed. "How does someone – something so large fit into a body so small?"

"I have grown used to it."

"So You admit, then, that You are not all You seem."

"I have never pretended to be mortal. It is amazing how much one misses when one is not looking very hard."

"But you will not tell me what You are?"

"You will know, in time." He paused. "Though I fear you will not like what I am, once you know Me as I truly am."

"If last night was even a taste of what You are, I think I'll like you just fine."

He chuckled, and the sound echoed in her ear. "Last night was… an indulgence. Thank you." He stood and breathed for a time, pressed against her. She felt Him for a moment as the Wolf, and closed her eyes, wondering why she had never remembered her dreams before. And then He let go and sidestepped around her body. "I do not think you will suffer nightmares anymore."

"Does this mean You will… not be visiting me in my sleep anymore?"

His blue eyes flicked up to meet hers. "It would be better if I did not."

Some part of her deflated, and her eyes stung. "I see."

He smiled that sad smile at her. "We will see. I must think on it. There is… much to consider."

Many a night now, He came to her in dreaming. No longer did she have nightmares. Now her dreams left her with pleasant, shivery memories. And it distracted her. She floated through the Waking World barely seeing, feeling hypnotized. She still did her job. She still recruited people to the Inquisition. She'd closed the Breach some time ago. They were nearing the moment when they would face Corypheus. But so enraptured with Solas was she that she found herself agreeing with Him about everything He ever said – even if it was morally questionable.

Being near Him left her dazed, almost as if she were drunk. He had done… something to her. She knew this, and she did not care. He could do with her as He wished. She was His, and no one else's. Her friends were concerned for her, and they were very verbal about it. Solas denied any and all accusations of Magical Interference. He denied the work of Blood Magic. He denied it all. But behind His lies was a smile that everyone saw, and no one could prove meant anything at all. They all knew, and watched in alarm and fear as Evelyn spent more and more time near Him, with Him. And each time she came back to them, she was less and less herself.

And when He disappeared, after the destruction of Corypheus, it destroyed her.

This was the sixth month without Him, and here in the Fade, she felt her loneliness surround her like a shroud. She spent her nights now screaming. She was losing her grip on sanity. She knew now without a doubt that He was something immortal, something with much more power than He had ever even eluded to. She called out to Him in the Fade, and was always met with a blanket of silence. Still, she called, and called.

Now was the night where she finally lost it. Desperate for any sign of Him, she became The Wolf, big and dark and frightening and angry and sad. She howled, calling all manner of Demons to her. She welcomed the nightmares. She became The Wolf in the hopes of calling Solas to her. She spent her night fighting hordes of Demons that all took His form. They all reached out with His long fingers, to strangle her, and she killed them all, and each time, it hurt her like someone was slamming into her heart with a sledgehammer. They all stared at her with His eyes, and whispered her name with His voice.

And finally she stood, panting, shrinking ever so slowly as her anger left her. Her blue eyes, for she was still The Wolf, looked at the ground. She did not see Him when He appeared, but she felt Him, and she knew it was really Him. He felt the same as he always had, power wafting from Him in waves, crashing against her. She lifted her head, the anger coming back and her body became large again. She let out a growl, too emotional for words. He stared at her with eyes that echoed her own – sad and lost and old. Except hers burned with cold fire, anger showing through where His did not.

She lunged at Him, and He did nothing to fight her. His body slammed into the ground, but He remained wordless. Her massive paws pressed against His body, her maw inches from His face. She snarled and bared her fangs and barked madly. His eyes only softened in reply. "Ma Venhan," He said. And she collapsed against Him, now a woman, full of heartbreak and confusion.

He held her until she quieted, and by the time she lifted her head to look up at Him, she was awake, staring at the ceiling.

Standing on the drawbridge, looking down on the valley below her, she wondered if she would be alive long enough to feel the pain her body would endure when it slammed into the ground. It had been a year since the defeat of Corypheus, and Solas' visits in her dreams were few and far between. In that time, she had learned many things about Him, and about herself. She had learned of His planned destruction of the world, that he was Fen'Harel – the Dread Wolf, and that if He succeeded, she would die just like everyone else. Solas was a God. She had faith that her Inquisition could defeat Him if they put their minds to the task – with or without her. So there was no reason to stay. If Solas succeeded and she did not kill herself now, then she would die later, and who knew what would become of her soul then? If the Inquisition defeated Solas, and she yet lived, she would be destined for heartbreak. If she killed herself, and became a Spirit of Fade, then regardless of whether Solas succeeded or failed, she would be with Him. Potentially forever. And if killing herself did not bring her soul to the Fade, then it wouldn't matter anyways, because she would be dead.

She jumped, and had the sensation of flying for all of a moment, before gravity dragged her body to the side of a mountain, and impact killed her instantly.

Solas' anger and despair over her actions exploded outward in a wave of energy that was so strong, she had to push against it not to be blown away by the force. A thousand different scenarios played out all at once, His every possible reaction to her having killed herself. She stood before Him, at once small and timid, and large and imposing, and let His emotions run their course through her soul. A hundred times He struck her in His anger, a hundred times, He kissed her, a hundred times He paced before her, venting His frustrations. It took endless days to cycle through all possible scenarios, and at the same time, it took naught but a moment. In the Fade, there was no concept of Time.

Finally, He went to her, and placed His hands upon her face. He stared into her – her eyes, her soul. "You had so much to live for," He whispered.

She touched His face in turn. "I had so much to die for."

He breathed slowly then, staring further into her. And then He stepped forward, intangible, blended with her body, and Consumed her. She allowed her soul to meld with His without question. A long sigh escaped her body and echoed around Her as she became one with Fen'Harel.

His eyes closed and He smiled as He felt her spirit settle against His own. "And so, the Dread Wolf has taken you."