Lightning crackles through the night sky like embers still lit after the fire has long since died out. Azura stands in front of her mother, holding the spirit shield. Looking up to the canopy of trees and faint starlit sky, Azura's eyes began to glow a bright blue. She lashes out a spell of lightning, charring the ground where the large black wolf once stood. He is gone. And although Aelrindel's face is calm and composed, her heart is aching, reaching for him. And she hates it.

She should hate it. She should hate the fact that he couldn't bare to tell her the truth. Damn his pride! She would have understood. Then again, 15 years ago she probably would not have understood. Under the pressure of Corypheus and the inquisition, nevermind her love for him, she most likely would have cracked. But now she does understand. She hates that she understands; hates the knowing and missing of him, hates that she wants him, needs him, misses him. And in her mind time pauses; the bittersweet taste of elfroot tea on his lips, the inner curve of his hips where she absently placed her hand, the warmth of his tongue along the shape of her ear. The perfect shape of his member against her inner thigh.

Aelrindel shook her head. Don't do this to yourself! Those memories, that night, it's result in front of her. The beautiful, tall elven mage with Solas' blue eyes and immortal power. Azura was special. Special in the way that Solas unknowingly gave her one more gift. The ability to speak and read ancient Elvhen. That gift really came in handy especially several weeks earlier at the temple of Mythal.


An endless sea of green made up the emerald graves as Aelrindel led her daughter through the wood. The river was the clearest water Azura had ever seen and she couldn't help but stop and cup her hands; sipping the cool water and splashing a little on her face. Azura's almond shaped eyes blinked away droplets of water. She licked her pink lips and smiled. Her face was free of the vallaslin and knowing what Aelrindel knew now, she was happy her daughter was free of it. Aelrindel watched as Azura stood in the gently moving river, her lavender and green mage robes becoming darker at the bottom. She knew that Azura would need all the help she could get if she had to face Solas. That's why she kept hoping that having a daughter would change his mind. But in case it did not, she would need a back up plan. So, she packed up Azura and headed for the temple of Mythal. The voices in her head, told her to go there for peace. Atish'an Mythal, they told her.

"Come, dal'en," Aelrindel spoke to her daughter. And understanding the urgency in her mother's voice, Azura quickly composed herself and held her blissfulness behind a mask of careful reserve. Much like her father did. Aelrindel remembered her first trip to the temple of Mythal. She, Iron Bull, Cassandra and Solas had to carefully claw through the forest looking for red templars with a fine tooth comb. She left that Temple a different person. She drank the well of sorrows, thinking she was preserving her elven culture. But she did not understand that the ancestors who drank we bound to Mythal and soon she was too. She heard their sorrows, regrets, their hurt. Their cries of pain haunted her dreams and she was surprised how she was blessed with a happy child. Those were the moments she was grateful for Cole's help. He had come to help her frequently while she was pregnant. Hiding, hurting, swirling in the dark. Yet there is light. Warm like the sunkissed skin of his cheek, to kiss it. Lips pressed against sensitive places. Illuminating the dark.


Aelrindel leaned up against the door of her quarters. She buried her head in her hands. She did not bleed. She had not bled. It had been 4 weeks after defeating Corypheus and she knew she was pregnant. She closed her eyes and she could see Solas' face. Leaning down in the snow of the Frostback Mountains, not far from Skyhold, kissing her skin. Her bare breasts, flushed with heat as they pressed against the lean muscles of his chest. His heartbeat hammering against her own. Tongues entwined like Armour blessing around rock. The snow melting beneath them as Solas rocked his hips with her own, burning and entrapping her like a moth to a flame.

Snapping herself from the memory, Aelrindel slams her head back against the solid wood door. Hard enough to scrape the metal along the back of her skull. The pain is immediate but relieving. Her hand moves to the back of her head as she feels wet. Pulling her hand back, blood pooling around her fingertips. "Fuck," she says to herself.

"Hiding, hurting, swirling in the dark. Yet there is light. Warm like the sunkissed skin of his cheek, to kiss it. A fleeting dream. Lips pressed against sensitive places. Illuminating the dark. Why? Why! Screams of sorrow mixed with ancient woes as she pains deeply. Why do you do this to yourself?" Cole sits on the top of the staircase looking down at her beneath to brim of his hat. He gets up and walks down the steps to her, holding his hand out. "You're hurting and it's not good for you or the baby."

Aelrindel looks up at Cole and takes his hand, "I love him, Cole. I love him so much."

"I know," Cole pulls her into a tight hug and holds her. His hand covering the gash on her head, blood seeping onto his fingers. For a moment he doesn't care about the blood, for her hurt is more overwhelming to him. Cole lifts her face up to his by her chin, "It's not your fault. You love and you want to know why he hurts. You push to understand his pain even if it is more than you can bare. You push and he can't understand why you push. Love is foreign to him and he feels selfish." Aelrindel nods as Cole takes her by the hand and leads her back towards Cullen's quarters. Cole pushes open the door and Cullen stands surprised. "Cole!" he exclaims as he reaches for a shirt to throw over his bare chest.

Cole leads Aelrindel to Cullen and looks at him, "She is hurt and bleeding. She needs help but has no one to turn to. She needs peace without judgement." Cullen looks at Aelrindel who can barely keep her balance. She falters slightly and Cullen immediately catches her, laying her on his bed. His hand cradling her head and as he pulls away, he can see it's stained with red. Cullen looks up to see Cole is gone, "I hope he is gone to fetch the surgeon."

Turning his attention back to Aelrindel, he runs a rough, calloused hand along her face, "Sweet Maker, what did you do?"

Aelrindel releases a coughed laugh as she leans into his touch, "Threw my head back against my door too hard." Cullen shook his head as he checked the back of her head to see the blood slowing down, "Why on earth would you do that?"

Cullen meets her eyes and sees they are full of pain. The answer is clear. Solas. Fucking Solas. Cullen rolls his eyes, that elf is nothing but confusing riddles in a world of too many unanswered questions. She loved the elf deeply and he crushed her. She was a beautiful poem written on a blank page. Words effortlessly and intricately penned to describe the deepest desires of the heart. And Solas crumpled it in his hands before giving the writer the respectful read it deserved. "Please don't injure yourself for that fool," was all he was able to say. Aelrindel responded with a laugh as she cradled her stomach. Cullen wasn't sure if she was going to be sick so he handed her the waste basket in the corner of the room. She held it to her lips and only received gags and finally fell back into the pillows, defeated. "When was the last time you ate?" Cullen asked as Aelrindel breathed hard against the pain.

"I don't know. Maybe a few days?" Her response was weak as she looked into Cullen's golden eyes. He shook his head and sent one of the servants to kitchen for some stew. He laid his hand gently against her forehead, his finger tips brushing at her hairline. "Is there something I should know?" he asked as if he already knew, glancing down at her abdomen.

Aelrindel took a deep breath, "I'm pregnant."

Cullen kissed her forehead, "It will be all right. I've birthed a babe or two." Sensing the uncertainty in her eyes, he chuckled, "Now the father... let's see Iron Bull?"

Aelrindel tilted her head down to him, her not serious glare almost reminded him of a sharpened sword, "No."

"Blackwall?"

"Ew, no!"

Cullen pondered for a moment then replied with a wicked grin, "Dorian."

Aelrindel burst into laughter as the servant returned with a bowl of rabbit stew. Cullen chuckled himself as put the bowl at the bedside for her. Taking her first bite, he could see how hungry she was as he ordered the servant to get another bowl. After three spoonfuls, she looked up at Cullen, a wicked smile to match his own, "That man would be ecstatic to know that the curtains match the drapes." Cullen dropped his head into his hands and burst out laughing. By the time she had finished the stew, the second bowl came and all laughter had died down. "It's Solas." she paused as she looked at Cullen, "Solas is the father."