Hey Guys! Sorry it's been so long. (I don't know if anyone really reads this... It's more for my own weird amusement anyway.) This chapter is EXTREMELY long. But I felt like it couldn't be broken up into different chapters so I just decided to do a long one. Hope you like it! This is where the M rating comes in!

The Bull walked out of the cottage, anger building inside of him, ready to explode. Krem was standing farther away from the small house, arms crossed. He looked utterly pissed.

"What'd he say to you, Krem?" the Bull asked.

"I grabbed Stitches, he stopped us before we could even make it to her. Told us we weren't needed. But the way he said it, Chief? If you're not going to punch him, I will." If looks could kill, Krem would have murdered Solas five times over.

"Don't worry, Krem. I know how to handle this." The Bull gave one last look towards the dwelling, then started off towards Leliana. Perhaps the spymaster could give him some information.

Leliana was in her tent, a stone's throw away from the massive doors of the chantry. And people always accused the Qun of being overbearing. Did these people not even notice what control the Chantry has over their lives? When it came right down to it, the Chantry could be just as demanding as the Qun, or even more so. The unfortunate part is that these people lived their lives by a series of panicked moments. It wasn't awful, but he could see how some might find solace in the consistency of the Qun.

She was bent over a small table shuffling papers when he ducked under the canvas. The only indication that she'd noticed his approach was a barely noticeable tensing of her shoulders. She was ready to fight as easily as she was to talk.

"May I help you, Bull?" the hooded figure asked, not bothering to look up as she scratched a note with her quill across one of the reports.

"I wanted to ask for some information - on one of the other people in our group." Bull watched her movements carefully. She may not look like much, but he knew an instrument of death when he saw one.

She finally straightened and turned to look at him. Fiery red hair framed her face even underneath her hood. Her leather armor creaked as she shifted her weight and crossed her arms.

"Who might this be about?" a small smirk played on her lips. Her upturned nose moving as she tried to stifle the facial expression.

She knew who this was about, she just wanted to hear him say it.

She wouldn't be much of a spymaster if she hadn't noticed the growing tension between the horned Ben-Hassrath and the elf.

The Bull sighed and rolled his eyes, letting Leliana know that he was on to her attempt to play dumb.

"Come on, Leliana, cut the crap. You know I want to know about Solas." Bull mimicked her own stance by folding his arms over himself as well.

"It's funny you should mention that. I would like to know more about him as well. His timely appearance here was... odd... to say the least. To be completely honest, he is the one person I know little about."

Leliana relaxed her posture, gesturing for Bull to sit on a nearby crate. The bulky Qunari sat tentatively on the crate ensuring that he didn't crush it by accident. The spymaster walked the few paces back over to her desk and leaned against it.

"Solas quite literally came to us out of nowhere. He walked up to the gates of Haven, hands up and surrendered his staff. We really did not know what to make of him. I knew that Cassandra would not be very willing to accept the help of an apostate, but Solas said he knew the Fade well, and I thought he could help with the breach. Cassandra and I decided that to be safe, we would hold him in one of the cells for a few nights, and interrogate him. Just to make sure that he had nothing to do with the death of the Divine. Cassandra spoke to him at great length for days, trying to ferret out what he was doing here. His response was always the same, 'I came to help.' When we finally set him up with his own space here in the village, he became our advisor on the Fade, of which he is quite knowledgeable as a dreamer. I took some time to ask him about his personal life. He would not tell me much, other than the fact that he grew up in a small village to the north. He has had no contact with any circle, and he was not a part of any elvhen clan. He has mastered magic on his own. With that in mind, he's either a genius-"

"Or extremely dangerous." Bull finished her sentence for her.

"Exactly. I can not tell which. He is very guarded. He does not let people in easily, and has traveled extensively to different ruins to explore the fade. It's like he searches for something, but what I do not know. Whenever I try to find out something about his past, he evades questioning. I imagine that Solas is not even his name, but something he picked. It sounded elvhen so I thought to ask a contact what the word means. Apparently, it translates as Pride."

The sound of birds chirping above her woke her up from a blissful sleep. Heralla opened her eyes to see canvas above her. A tent? This couldn't be right. The last thing she remembered she was being carried down the side of a mountain by Cullen. She sat up and looked down. The halla skin covering her was warm, and her armor was different. Covered in swirling patterns and feathers. She remembered this armor. This smell… the smell of rain and moss and earth. Heralla pulled the hide off of her and exited the tent. People walking past, some asking about the hunting trip that afternoon, others sitting around the fire, talking about the day's upcoming activities. The Aravels were positioned around the camp, a form of protection and storage.

This was her clan. She was home.

"Da'len." a sweet, soft voice called to her.

As Heralla turned, she noticed her own mahogany hair was still it's wavy self, but with braids scattered within it.

Her keeper stood a few feet away, a smile upon her face, her silver hair tied into a bun.

"Keeper Inany!" Heralla ran to her, and wrapped her arms around her in a tight hug. She smelled like herbs and poultices.

The Keeper chuckled, "Da'len! You act as if you haven't seen me in years. I was coming to make sure you weren't going to sleep through the morning." her thin hand came up to run her fingers through Heralla's hair.

"We have much to do today. Why don't you go wash up by the river." she said as she placed a kiss on top of Heralla's head.

Reluctantly, Inany's First let go of her and nodded. As she began to walk through the camp she noticed the other clan members looking at her.

Suddenly hyper aware of her movements, she held her gaze ahead of her, and continued to walk past the small groups of people speaking in hushed whispers about her.

She pretended not to hear them.

"Crazier than usual today. Right?" One hunter whispered to another.

"I don't know. She never takes anything seriously."

The short distance to the river seemed like miles. Heralla crouched down and scooped up the cool water with both could see her reflection in the moving surface. She looked the same; still the pale skin, same blue eyes, same small nose and defined chin. But this couldn't be real. Then a single thought came to her as she watched the spindleweed bend to the current of the water,

'Am I dead?'

No, she couldn't be dead. Hurt, maybe.. but not dead. She stood upright and looked across the river to the expanse of the plains. Halla lazily strode alongside the water, pulling the sweet grasses out of the ground as they went along. Above, a bird circled looking for it's next meal. It all seemed so pretty and quiet. Inside, Heralla chastised herself for not appreciating this sooner.

A small sense of acceptance filled her as she wanted to see where a dream like this would lead.

"Da'len." The keeper called to her.

"Yes, Keeper Inany." the First replied, and as she turned to look at her.

"The scouts think they have located the ruins we were looking for. If the artifact is there, I need them to bring it back. I would like you to accompany them, just in case they should need anything."

"Of course." Heralla bowed her head slightly.

With that, the Keeper turned and walked away. As Heralla scanned the small crowd of people she saw the scouting group on the edge of the camp, presumably waiting for her. She could see one of her close friends, and some she didn't quite care for as well.

"Ready to head out?" a young male elf said to her, breaking her from her thoughts.

A smile spread across Heralla's face as she looked at Tariel. They had been friends since childhood. She took in his familiar form. His dark brown hair swept back and tied to keep it out of his face, his sharp jawline, and eyes the same green as the trees of summer in the Emerald Graves. His skin was darkly tanned from the constant exposure to the sun, but some of his freckles still showed across his cheekbones. His eyebrows were sharp, the arch clearly defined, his nose still had the ridge from an injury she had given him after playing too hard.

When they were children, they would play together incessantly. Their favorite game was one where one of them would pretend to be Fen'Harel, while the other fought him off. He had wanted to be the Dread Wolf that time, and in pretending to shoot arrows at him, she managed to actually launch the stick she was using straight at his face. Heralla remembered him grabbing his nose and crying. He was so small then. As an adult he was taller than her, and the skinny boy with freckles she once knew had filled out, his arms and shoulders broad, especially for an elf. He always was handsome.

She had dreamt about him before, and every time she saw him he was still the same old Tariel. They had spent nights laying under the stars, memorizing their patterns, holding each other. Every time he appeared in her dreams like this, it was almost soothing to her. A reassurance that the memory of him had not faded from her mind.

"Yes. I'm always ready, Lethallin." Heralla playfully rolled her eyes at him. He let loose a small chuckle.

"Are you two done?" A blonde haired scout called from up front.

Ardeth. He was always such an arse.

"Oh, quite." Heralla looked at him with a stormy gaze. Ardeth was always trying to be a leader to the group, or at least act like one. He was never very effective though. Unless you counted his following of idiot friends.

Cammet, was not the brightest of people. However, what he lacked in intelligence, he made up for in strength. The man was a brute, and knew how to fight. Unfortunately, he also followed Ardeth around like a pup.

And then there was Javel. He rarely left Cammet's side, and not surprisingly at all, was in the party as well. He was waif-like, even by elven standards. He looked as if a strong wind might send him tumbling with his mess of red hair. Javel was the exact opposite of Cammet; extremely intelligent. Very well read, and loved to research the ancient history of the elves. Hopefully these ruins would be more intriguing for him than listening to Ardeth complain about her being with them.

As they started across the plains, Heralla and Tariel stayed in the back of the group while the three men walked in front of them, chatting amongst themselves about which girls they liked in the clan.

"So, you're here to patch me up if things get rough?" Tariel shoved a leather-clad elbow into Heralla's side.

"Ouch! If you keep that up I might just let you bleed to death." She smiled up at him and returned her gaze to the land.

It was all so amazing and vivid. The plains stretching out in front of them, the mountains in the distance

"Well, I guess I should be careful then." Tariel remarked, his eyes still on the Keeper's First next to him. "It would be a shame that the next time you see me naked is because I have an arrow in my chest."

A flush began to burn up her cheeks.

They were closer to the ruins now, rocks and fragments of pillars began to scatter the landscape. The group stopped.

"Everyone listen." Ardeth spun around, hands up to gain everyone's attention.

"I'm going to go scout an entrance with Cammet, the last thing we need is the ruins falling in on us because Heralla touched something. Heralla, Tariel, you two stay here with Jarel." he whipped his shoulder length blonde hair as he spoke directly to Jarel who was already looking at crumbled pieces of stone.

"Keep an eye on them, would you? I don't need them getting into any kind of trouble."

"Yeah, sure. It'll be fine, Ardeth." Jarel said as he waved a dismissive hand at the self proclaimed leader.

The opening to the ruins looked small, but passable. It lead into a rocky mountainside, and trees had grown around it. Tall grasses shielded it to the naked eye, but if you knew what you were looking for, you could find it.

As Ardeth and Cammet started off for the opening, Jarel was studying what looked to be carvings in the stone shambles around the area. Heralla suddenly felt a tug at her hand.

"Come on." Tariel whispered.

Heralla looked at Jarel and back at her childhood friend. Shrugging slightly, she followed him around a few large boulders, and through some saplings to a secluded spot a ways away from the opening of the ruins where they were hidden from view.

"Tariel, in case I don't-"

Tariel pushed her up against the stone and kissed her passionately. His calloused hand slid around the back of her and down to her bottom as she moaned.

He tilted his head to the side, as their tongues met.

Heralla felt a fire burning in her veins, it seemed to spread with every movement of his hand, every rough kiss he placed on her lips.

Mindlessly, her hand found it's way to the back of his head, the other hand running up and down his arm. She began to lose herself in the dream. What a feeling, just like those intimate times they had shared before. Nothing had changed. He still smelled like him, still tasted like him, and was still intoxicating.

His mouth broke from hers, only to playfully bite on her ear while his hands explored her. Heralla's eyes fluttered shut as his hands moved across her robes. A slight gasp escaped when Tariel found the ties to her robes and slid a hand in the front, cupping her breast. Kissing and licking her neck as he kneaded her skin, he pressed himself against her. She could feel his erection through the trousers he wore, and every time he pressed into her a moan escaped his lips.

"Ar leth ma." Tariel breathed into her ear. Heralla turned her head to reclaim his mouth with hers. As she did so, she began to untie his trousers, while he was busy undoing her robes. When Tariel pushed the heavy fabric off her shoulders, she shivered at the cool breeze passing over her exposed skin.

His hands ran over her small clothes, feeling the damp cloth as she took in a sharp breath and released a moan. She was lost in the feeling of his hands, the warmth of his skin, his scent.

He broke the kiss as he slid a hand underneath the fabric, watching Heralla's face as he traced lightly over her slit. Chills ran up and down her spine. With every light touch, she would move, begging for the teasing to stop. Giving in to her lustful moans, he slid a single finger up her, feeling her velvet lips for the spot that he knew would make her climax. When he found it her body tensed, "Oh, Tariel." she moaned as he began to move with small, gentle circles around her nub. His erection throbbed at the sight of her arching her back and beads of sweat beginning to form on her brow. Heralla's hand searched for anything to hold on to as he began to gain speed, and her nails started to dig into Tariel's arm. Opening her eyes for a moment, she noticed his trousers, and began to rub him with a free hand. He picked up momentum, this wasn't about him right now, it was about her and her pleasure.

Like pressure building in a bottle, Heralla's muscles tensed with the increased movements. Her breath was ragged and fast. "Just a little more…" she whispered. He leant forward and nipped at her neck. His free hand placed upon a breast, kneading the pale white flesh. She was close, he could tell, with more speed came more pressure, threatening to send her over the edge. Heralla's moans began to grow as her legs began to shake. Reaching her climax, she gripped Tariel's arm as he plunged his tongue into her mouth to stifle her moans. Muscles trembling, he thrust a finger inside her to feel her release upon him. When she was finished she reached out for the fabric that covered his member.

Removing himself from her, Tariel pulled down the trousers and small clothes he wore, then pulled her small clothes down to her feet. The cool air hit his hot skin. He needed her, he needed to be inside of her. He grabbed her bottom with both hands as he lifted her up for her to wrap her thighs around him. Heralla raised her pelvis to allow him to slide into her. As his hardness penetrated her folds, she threw her head back with a moan. Tariel groaned as her wet, warmth wrapped around him. She was so tight from her previous orgasm, he wasn't sure how long he might last. With slow thrusts, he eased himself in and out of her, feeling her envelop him. Trying to pace himself, he began to kiss her collar bone but Heralla ground her hips into him. Oblivious to anything around them, he gasped and groaned into her skin at the movement. "Ar leth ma." He whispered into her skin, becoming slick with sweat.

"And I, you." She whispered back, head resting against the stone behind her.

Slow movements gave way to rhythmic thrusting as Tariel laid his forehead upon her chest. Her muscles were beginning to tense again as he picked up speed. Moans coming more frequent from her, hands bracing the rock behind her. He watched her facial expressions as he began to thrust harder, her legs still wrapped around him, breasts bouncing as he buried his length inside her. Sweat began to run down his back as he came close to the edge, ready to release the passion that had built up inside of him.

As her walls began to tighten he gripped her, fingers digging into her flesh as her hand buried itself into his hair, causing the deep brown locks to come undone and fall around his face. He growled through his teeth as he plunged into her, her fluids mixing with his as they climaxed together.

Her body trembled with her orgasm as his movements slowed, both breathing hard he gently kissed her full lips. He stayed inside of her as he throbbed from the act. Finally, he lifted her off of him and she placed her feet back on the ground.

Heralla laid an arm across her eyes as Tariel pulled his clothes back up and began to secure his trousers.

"That was amazing." she managed between gasping breaths.

Tariel laughed, "You weren't too bad yourself, ma vhenan." still tying he placed a kiss on her elbow. He bent down to pick up the robes from the ground, and dusted the grass and dirt off of them, then wrapped them around her shoulders.

"We should get back, before those Jarel loses interest in the carvings."

Heralla brought her arm down and began to dress herself again. She began to pull her robes up over her shoulders and securing them when Tariel pulled her in for one last kiss. Heralla smiled as a muffled giggle escaped her lips. When she pulled away, she opened her eyes.

"Heralla." Tariel's face was white.

"Tariel?" her defined brows pulling together as a sense of dread sprung like an unwelcome weed in the garden of her stomach. As she placed a hand on his face, he looked down at his stomach. Her gaze followed his, and she could see the blood blotting through the shirt he wore.

"No. No… not again. NO Tariel!" Heralla pressed the free hand against the wound spreading across the previously pristine abdomen.

'Not this part. Please, please, I don't want to relive this.' she thought to herself as tears began to burn her eyes. A crack of thunder boomed across the sky. She looked around as the wind began to blow. The once blue sky had turned gray, the grass dead around her feet as ashes floated in the air. The tall elf in front of her began to slump, losing more blood by the second. Heralla threw his arm over her shoulder as she led him out in the open and laid him on the scorched earth.

"Please Tariel. Don't make me see this again. Just stay with me, just a little longer." she said as her hands pressed into the wound, trying desperately to stop the laceration that she knew killed him in the end.

Taking hiccuping breaths as she sobbed, his hand raised one last time to cup her face. She leaned her head into it as her hair fell around his arm.

Tariel's eyes slowly slipped backward, and his touch pulled from her face. She held his lifeless body and cried as the world seemed to crumble around her.

"You did this." an elderly voice stated from behind her.

Heralla held her love tightly as she felt her heart break all over again.

"No. I never asked for any of this."

"You were supposed to protect your clan. You and Tariel put yourselves before others. I had hoped for more from you."

Heralla knew it was the Keeper, her voice was unlike any other. But the anger that filled her words now only left Heralla wanting to make all of this go away.

"You knew what you had to do, you chose not to do it! People died because of your selfish actions! That's why you could never stay! Do you understand what you have done?! "

Refusing to look at her, Heralla held on to Tariel. Sobbing, she placed her head on top of his and gripped him tighter, rocking him back and forth. With every accusation, her pain grew like a wildfire spreading across her mind.

A sharp tinge began to spread in her hand, tearing, clawing to escape. It crawled up her crimson-covered arm. When she looked down the anchor had appeared, it's glow brighter than her eyes could handle.

"I NEVER ASKED FOR ANY OF THIS!" Heralla screamed at the ashen sky, hoping that someone, anyone could hear her.

Pain gave way to anger. Her magic flared, flames starting to curl up her hands and wrists.

"You asked for all of it when you failed everyone!" The Keeper shouted at her.

The fire licked up her arms as she still gripped on to Tariel's empty body. She shut her eyes tightly, hoping that the pain and anger would subside, but with every beat of her heart, it flowed through her like a mighty river, feeding the flames that now covered her and her fallen lover.

With one last attempt to stop the anguish, she gave a guttural howl towards the heavens as flames shot into the air.