Miriel is given a new title and then finds her aloof elven apostate in a strange place. NSFW.

She is Real

There were a thousand and one things to do and only so many minutes to do them. Skyhold's sheer size made it more than capable of housing all of the refugees from Haven, that wasn't a problem. The problems were figuring out where everyone would go and making sure that the fortress was indeed secure from Corypheus and his Red Templars. Soldiers had to be organized into patrols, then put in barracks when not on patrol. Refugees had to be herded into proper places to set up tents and beds. Patrols had to be sent back into the Frostbacks to look for any straggling refugees. Injuries had to be triaged and treated properly and quickly. Healers needed to be put on a rotation. Ravens had to be sent to the Inquisition's allies alerting them to the new change in location and of course about the eminent threat that was Corypheus.

Skyhold itself needed to be repaired, so repairmen had to be brought in. Contracts for hire had to be drawn up, negotiated on, signed. Rubble had to be cleared to make room for more refugees and to not appear overly shabby to their allies. Josephine insisted that this was important, though Miriel failed to see how its important came even remotely close to that of making sure people were safe.

Injuries still plagued her even still a week after the avalanche, and she was refusing to burden the over worked healers. Her feet were sheltered from the elements in thick Ferelden boots and while it was odd getting used to the new balance required for such shoes, she was learning. Her chest was bound all the time to help heal her ribs, and she was constantly applying elfroot extract to her slightly frostbitten ears. The return of blood flow was slow, but healing was happening. She could keep going, so she did.

Miriel barely slept, and when she did it was only for a few hours at a time. In the meantime she handled everything she could, eager to make sure her people, her clan, was safe and sound. She made decisions when Cassandra, Cullen, Josephine, and Leliana could not agree. She worked while they bickered and she did all that she could because she was able. Being Dalish meant that she had received a crash course in crisis management. Step one: get as many people as you can out of the way of harm. Step two: get as far away from the threat as possible. Step three: Keep your people together. Step four: Make sure the people are okay. Step five: If people are not okay, find out how to make them okay. Step six: Make your people okay again with whatever it is they need. Do not bicker, do not fight, just do.

She found it ironic that while the shems, Sera, and Solas had disparaged the Dalish frequently and without pause, now it was because of a Dalish elf that Skyhold was up and running so quickly. Suck it.

She was emerging from the gate towers, finishing up talks with the currently lyrium deprived Templars when Cassandra made eye contact across the courtyard. The Seeker was standing the other advisors and they were all staring at Miriel with little 'I know something you don't know' smiles. Oh dear.

"Lyrium is now a top priority, I assure you," she told the haggard looking Templars, who sighed in relief and thanked her. Miriel then quickly walked over to Cassandra, who for some reason wasn't looking quite as angry as usual. As she approached, Leliana, Cullen, and Josephine left, leaving Miriel alone with Cassandra.

"They arrive daily from every settlement in the region. Skyhold is becoming a pilgrimage." Cassandra said, watching refugees bustle about the lower courtyard, carting boxes and other various items they brought from their homes. Miriel was still amazed at how many there were, had there been this many in Haven?

"If word has reached these people, it will have reached the Elder One. We have the walls and numbers to put up a fight here, but this threat is far beyond the war we anticipated. But we now know what allowed you to stand against Corypheus, what drew him to you." Cassandra took the stairs two at a time, forcing Miriel to walk a bit more quickly to keep up.

"He came for this," Miriel raised her left hand, the Anchor quietly flickering in her palm, "and now it's useless to him, so he wants me dead. That's it." She explained. She was tired of denying any involvement with the human religion. When had their Maker ever seen fit to protect or elevate elves other than for the pretentious glory of his prophetess? Miriel was not of their religion, and pretending at it, even when denying it, was becoming increasingly tiresome.

"The Anchor has power, but it's not why you're still standing here. Your decisions let us heal the sky. Your determination brought us out of Haven," Cassandra spoke confidently, as if she were trying to inspire troops and not discussing events with a colleague. Miriel followed the woman up the stairs, perplexed but intrigued.

"You are the creature's rival because of what you did. And we know it. All of us." At the first landing of the stairs stood Leliana, her head bowed in reverence, a large ornamental sword resting on her gloved hand. Mythal'enaste, what is going on here?

"The Inquisition requires a leader: the one who has already been leading it." Oh Creators, no. Miriel looked startled at Cassandra, disbelieving as to what exactly was happening. Her? The leader of the Inquisition? She looked down and saw that the refugees had gathered while Cassandra had led Miriel away. Cullen and Josephine stood in the crowd, eyes full of hope and wonder. They did this, she thought. Those bitches didn't even warn me.

"You." Cassandra said plainly.

"You're offering this to an elf? Are you quite sure what you're doing?" Miriel whispered hotly.

"I would be terrified handing this power to anyone. But I believe it is the only way. They'll follow you. To them, being an elf shows how far you've risen, how it must have been by Andraste's hand. What is means to you, how you lead us: that is for you alone to determine." Cassandra gestured to the sword in Leliana's hands, stepping aside so that Miriel could approach the blade. It was large, a fearsome dragon wrapped around the hilt and guard.

It was an impressive sword, an even more impressive gathering of hopeful and sadly naïve refugees below. They thought her blessed, sent to them by their god and she was not. But she was an elf and they were still looking at her like that, like she was their savior come to life. In the back of the crowd she saw a young elven boy, his ears currently disproportionately large compared to his head. His face was red, and she could see he was missing a few teeth, but he looked up to her like she was the moon in the sky on a starless night. Her heart softened and she looked back at the sword. She was not sent by the Maker or Andraste, but she was here, and she could make a difference. Miriel reached out and grabbed the hilt, staring at the gleaming blade as she lifted it to her face. They couldn't have sprung for a lighter sword, could they?

"I will lead us against Corypheus, and I will be an ambassador. I'm an elf standing for Thedas. The Inquisition is for all." She said, voice thick with emotion.

"Wherever you lead us." Cassandra then approached the ledge of the landing, "Have our people been told?" She cried out to the masses, specifically Cullen and Josephine.

"They have. And soon, the world." It was the loudest Miriel had ever heard Josephine speak.

"Commander, will they follow?"

"Inquisition! Will you follow?" Cullen shouted. A roaring cheer replied, hands raised and spirits high. "Will you fight? Will we triumph?" He stoked the crowd. Miriel's responding smile was equal parts enthusiasm and nervousness.

"Your leader! Your Herald! Your Inquisitor!" He declared, turning to Miriel and raising his blade high. Miriel responded in raising the dragon blade as high as she could, thrusting it into the sky. The entire courtyard erupted into a cacophony of cheers, whoops, and hollers as they rallied around her.


The boisterous rally did not last for long. And afterwards Miriel was pulled into long meetings about the political instability of Orlais and how the situation needed to be remedied as soon as possible to keep it from falling into Corypheus's hands. Invitations to the Winter Ball at Halamshiral had to be procured, information from the fronts in the civil war in the Dales had to be processed. They had to respond correctly to different information, sending soldiers here, scouts there, negotiators there. Ravens had to be sent out declaring Miriel Lavellan, the Herald of Andraste, as the new Inquisitor.

There was so much work to do and only so many hours of the day.

"Alright, I think we should call it a night and go to sleep. We can continue this in the morning," Cassandra declared after staring at the War Table for five minutes straight without coming up with anything productive to say.

"Oh thank the Creators," Miriel said, leaning over the table with her hands braced in the Korcari Wilds. Her head sagged before she pushed herself off the table. Cullen sighed and shrugged.

"Very well. Jim, do you have that report about Jones?" And the man continued to work. Miriel had no idea how he did it as he strode of the room without appearing the slight bit worried about exhaustion.

"Inquisitor?" A servant popped her head into the room, and Miriel sighed, not more work, please no.

"Yes?" She asked, not bothering to hide the exhaustion.

"Your quarters are ready," what a wonderful thing to say – what?

"Of course they're ready, I made my bed and everything this morning," Miriel said, dubious as to what was going on. Josephine and Leliana suddenly appeared by Miriel.

"Surprise! The workers were finally able to clear rubble from the stairs leading up into the tower. Apparently the tower was the master of the hold's quarters, and we only saw it fit to grant the space to you. Don't worry, all of your things have been moved there." Josephine declared happily.

"Of the surprises today…that is not my least favorite," Miriel said as she followed the entirely too awake servant. Oh Creators, there were stairs. So. Many. Stairs.

"I changed my mind, this is my least favorite," she grumbled as she trudged up the stairs. The top of the tower, however, proved to be worth it. It was a large space, though not too large as to feel overbearing and wasteful. Instead it was spacious, with large windows and two balconies that allowed a wonderful breeze to billow in. There was a desk in the corner, a bed pushed up against the far wall, and a large fire place that warmed the entire space. While it was all beautiful and serene and quite nice (mental note: thank Josie in the morning), Miriel only had eyes for the bed. The beautiful, double bed with the loudest blue and gold Orlesian print on the bedspread.

"Thank you for leading me here, falon, now I must ask you to leave," Miriel murmured, not really caring that she had used elven with a human woman. To her credit, the servant merely bowed and descended the stairs, leaving Miriel blessedly alone.

The elf wasted no time in flopping onto her bed, curling up in the blanket and promptly passing out.


They had not spoken in what felt like forever. It was more like a week, but after he had become such a fixture in her day to day life, it felt like forever. She would wake up, sneak into the kitchen cabin in Haven, steal as many croissants as possible, then skip up to Solas with whom she would share her stash with. They would talk about the Fade and spirits before heading out to go do adventuring. When on the road, she would stretch then make breakfast for everyone, and she would sit next to him while they ate.

At Skyhold, she woke up, got dressed, was served breakfast on the go by Kaity, a quiet serving girl, and then put to work. She had no idea what Solas had been up to while she had been running around like a maniac, and she now felt bad for not knowing and not remembering to find some spare time to find him. She had noticed him in the rotunda across from Cullen's office a few times, though she did not know if that was coincidence or if he had really claimed the space as his.

Either way, Miriel decided to start her search there. She skipped into the rotunda, so glad to have found a moment away from all the chaos to find him. She entered the room and gasped as she saw that he had indeed been busy this week. A large mural was now plastered in a rectangular panel on the far wall.

"Solas?" She asked in a small voice, staring at the beautiful painting. Her hand went to her chest as she stepped further into the room. The lines were precise and the shading carefully and masterfully accomplished all the while capturing the explosion at the Temple of Sacred Ashes perfectly.

"Hello," a familiar voice said. She turned around to see a smiling Solas, and her chest tightened at the unexpected beauty she saw in him. His eyes twinkled and he somehow seemed…younger as he stood straighter with a certain cockiness that she found extremely appealing.

"Hi," she breathed. She felt keenly aware of her heart and her hands and she really didn't know what to do with either. So she fidgeted and her heart beat faster as he approached her.

"Do you like the mural?" His voice was rich, clipped, and her stomach was doing flips in the beautiful rhythm his speech sometimes fell into.

"It's…amazing, I no idea you could paint." She somehow answered.

"It has been quite some time since I have had such a large canvas to work on. It is nice to be able to do this again," he said, smiling contentedly at his handiwork.

"When did you do this before?"

"In my youth. Did you come here to simply to admire my painting skills?" He asked, smiling roguishly at her. Once again she was blushing, eyes widening as her stomach fluttered.

"Would you like me to admire something else?" She asked suggestively, her eyes raking over his delightfully built form. Solas chuckled, his smile turning from dashing rogue to adorable bashfulness as a slight blush tinted his cheeks.

"But really, Solas, this is beautiful." She said honestly and a bit breathlessly.

"Its beauty pales in comparison to yours, lethallan," he practically purred and her cheeks resumed their previous reddish hue. Damn him and his ability to do this to her! And why did she react this way? She was hardly the stereotypical blushing virgin type; Creators, she wasn't even a virgin! So why all the blushing?

"I can't help it if I literally glow," she joked. At least her blushing didn't really interfere with her ability to have good comebacks. Even so, she doubted she would ever get used to his casual flirtations. She also doubted if her heart would ever stop beating quickly whenever he complimented her. Casual flirtations, emphasis on casual, Miri. He laughed low in his throat as he turned towards her, giving her the full brunt of his playful gaze.

"So is there anything in particular that brought you here?" He asked and she shrugged.

"What, is it not enough to want to simply talk to you? I'm interested in what you told me of yourself and your studies. If you have time, I'd like to hear more," She asked back. His smile broadened and stood straighter as he began to walk past her.

"You continue to surprise me. All right, let us talk…preferably somewhere more interesting than this." He continued to walk and she followed him out of the rotunda and into Haven. For a brief moment she found the transition odd, but that feeling quickly vanished as she skipped along the path to keep up with Solas.

The snow fell softly and crunched under her feet as she strolled through small village toward the Chantry. She paid the cold and snow no mind as she followed Solas, enjoying watching him. It was so rare that she actually got to observe how the man moved outside of his warm and somewhat bulky robes, and she had to say, she was not displeased. He moved with elegant purpose, with long strides and precise muscle movements. And Creators, his body. Who knew that a hobo apostate could have a strong, toned body?

Miriel pulled herself back to reality and looked around her, curious.

"Why here?" She asked noting that they were not clothed for the weather yet she didn't feel cold.

"Haven is familiar, it will always be important to you," she could feel the persistent small smile in his voice.

"Yes, but we talked about that already." They were then standing in the holding cell she had woken up in. Must've gotten distracted by him to realize that we had walked here. He paused before speaking again.

"I sat beside you while you slept, studying the Anchor." According to Varric, Solas had worked tirelessly to save her. Even the Templars who had been watching him had been impressed by the consistent focus he was able to maintain to suppress and prevent the Anchor from killing her. But of course, it was all about the Anchor. But he flirted with her almost constantly now, making casual comments on her beauty, her grace, he had even mentioned her wisdom, of all things, once.

Her mind lingered on that idea: casual. His flirtations were casual…right? Creators, what if he was interested in her? Her heart sped up as she considered him actually having an interest in pursuing her. It wouldn't exactly be surprising with the amount of flirting they did and she could have sworn that they almost kissed the night before the assault on the Breach. But he had stepped away, just like he had done at the inn before meeting the meeting with the mages. Her heart fell a little bit at the realization that he most likely just a flirt…a highly selective flirt who had singled her out because of what? Her elfiness? There were other beautiful elven girls in the Inquisition, non-Dalish ones that didn't swear to the Creators or talk about the Dread Wolf, and as far as she knew, he never spoke to them as he spoke to her.

"How long can it take to look at a mark on my hand?" She asked and he smiled happily.

"A magical mark of unknown origin, tied to a unique breach in the veil? Longer than you might think. I ran every test I could imagine, searched the Fade, yet found nothing. Cassandra suspected duplicity. She threatened to have me executed as an apostate if I didn't produce results." Miriel rolled her eyes.

"Cassandra's like that with everyone." She explained and he chuckled.

"Yes," they were then walking outside of the Chantry. Strange, she thought, damn man, distracting me with his eyes and his smile. He was just…there was something about him right now that was different. He felt more energized, his eyes were brighter and he smiled more easily. Her heart ached as she watched him, unable to conceal her own smile at watching him be so obviously happy.

"You were never going to wake up. How could you, a mortal sent physically through the Fade? I was frustrated, frightened. The spirits I might have consulted had been driven away by the Breach. Although I wished to help, I had no faith in Cassandra…or she in me, I was ready to flee."

"The Breach threatened the whole world. Where did you plan to go?" She looked at him skeptically, brows together, but with a small smile. He returned her smile with a broader one.

"Someplace far away where I might research a way to repair the Breach before its effects reached me. I never said it was a good plan," they chuckled together, then he turned to stare at the Breach. I thought I closed that thing…

"I told myself: one more attempt to seal the rifts. I tried and failed. No ordinary magic would affect them. I watched the rifts expand and grow, resigned myself to flee, and then…" she remembered vividly the first time she closed a rift. Solas had grabbed her arm and raised it up to the pulsating green tear. She felt the magicks in her hand react almost instantaneously. It burned the first time, rushed through her skin, responding to the call to close. Solas's voice brought her back to reality.

"It seems you hold the key to our salvation. You had sealed it with a gesture…and right then, I felt the whole world change." Her breath hitched, he didn't just….

"You felt the whole world change?" Her voice was soft as she stepped forward, daring to hope that he could, maybe, return some semblance of the feelings she felt for him.

"A figure of speech." His words were trying to back out of it, but his feet were staying put. Watch a man's feet, they will speak volumes of what a man wishes to do, one of her friends had told her.

"I'm aware of the metaphor. I'm more interested in 'felt.'" His face softened as he seemed to lean into her ever so slightly.

"You change…everything." She blushed and looked demurely away, only drawing her eyes back up to look at him through her lashes.

"Sweet talker." He glanced away, and she could see the moment try to fade within him. No, he…I can't just stop, not now, and so she took a risk. She reached up and gently pulled his face to hers, pressing her lips to his. His lips were lush and soft and they seemed to fit perfectly with hers. She allowed herself a solid second to enjoy the kiss before realizing he wasn't moving or responding. Oh. She stepped back, blushing as embarrassment flooded her. It was stupid and silly and she should never have – hands were suddenly on her waist, pulling her bodily back to him. Miriel was forced to turn around and look up at him with wide eyes as he pressed his lips back to hers, insistently, warmly.

She gasped in surprise, a slight motion that had Solas opening his own mouth. His tongue ran across the seam of her lips, seeking entrance. Her eyes fluttered close as she parted her lips, eager to taste him. His mouth was hot and his tongue was sinful as it rubbed against hers. Her hands rose up his chest, tugging absently at his tunic before resting on his shoulders.

By the holy Creators this was actually happening. Solas and her. Kissing. No, no, snogging. And it was amazing. It was jumping into a pool of cool water in the heat of summer. It was licking the sweetest icing off of a ridiculous Orlesian pastry. It was getting drunk on Antivan red wine in the tallest tree she could climb up, swaying happily, stupidly out on the branches. It was just about damn near perfect was it was.

Solas dragged his hands down her back, landing at the top of her ass, which he then squeezed appreciatively. He pulled her forward as he stepped forward. The effect was lightning firing up through her body. Her bottom was dragged up his right thigh, his very muscular thigh from what she could feel. He bent her backwards, angling her so that he was all of her support. She had to cling to him to stay upright, not that she had a problem with this, mind you.

Alright, it was officially perfect. Though she was pretty sure that this counted as more than a first kiss. He was practically getting her off, so this was at least up to third kiss material.

She shivered as pleasure raked through her body. Hands fisted the soft material of Solas's tunic as she began to practically lose her mind in a desperate attempt to get closer to him. Breathless and needy, Miriel gasped and mewled into his mouth, sucking on his tongue as he dragged her along his thigh. Oh fuck.

Solas groaned into her mouth before breaking away. Disappointment took her but was quickly assuaged by his quick return. He kissed her hard and fast, hands squeezing her buttocks one last time before he stepped back and righted both of them.

If he was beautiful before, Solas after being thoroughly snogged was a masterpiece. His cheeks were flushed, lips red and swollen, while his normally sad, lovely droopy eyes glowed with heat and desire. It was the eyes that did it in for her. She leaned forward, seeking his lips once more, only to have him lean back from her.

Miriel's breathing was labored and she was certain she was red from neck to ears, and that blush wasn't going anywhere any time soon if Solas continued to look at her like that. Like she was his oasis in the middle of a blistering desert.

"We shouldn't. It isn't right. Not even here." What was he talking about? He took another step back, also taking his hands from her body.

"What do you mean, 'even here'?" He grinned slyly at her confusion.

"Where did you think we were?" Suddenly it all made sense, the sudden bouncing from place to place…and the fact that she couldn't exactly recall how she got to Haven.

"This isn't real." She murmured, looking around at the seemingly very real surroundings. He smiled and gave a small chuckle.

"That's a matter of debate…probably best discussed after you wake up."


Miriel woke with a gasp, throwing herself up into a sitting position. She was sweaty, aroused, and breathing quickly. Her heart raced in her chest, and she couldn't stop thinking about him and his lips and his hands and his perfectly formed thigh. Oh Creators. She wanted him, and now that she knew he wanted her too…but he pulled away.

She was combing her hair, primping a bit before going downstairs to confront him before she even really realized what she was doing. Hair fluffed, eyes lined, and maybe even a little lip color, and she was skipping downstairs to kiss, talk to, him.

She ignored Varric's raised eyebrow at the extra pep in her step and the broad smile on her face. Miriel practically floated into the rotunda with how excited she was. Solas's right ear twitched before he turned from the mural to look at her. He had schooled his features into a polite expression, but she could see the sparkle in his eyes, and even his smile seemed more authentic than usual.

"Sleep well?" He teased.

"When I asked to talk to you, I didn't think we'd be doing it in the Fade. Or, for that matter, doing it in the Fade." She joked, hoping to tease a smile and maybe even a laugh out of him. He laughed and her heart lightened at the sound.

"I apologize. The kiss was impulsive and ill considered, and I should not have encouraged it." Oh you are NOT backing out of this, mister, nu-uh.

"You say that, but you're the one who started with tongue." She said suggestively, hoping to rekindle the passion she had seen in the Fade.

"I did no such thing." He denied it, you know what you did, lethallin.

"Oh, does it not count if it's only Fade-tongue?" She teased him some more, poking him, prodding. His eyes twinkled but then he grew serious, his eyes darkening and his body leaning away from her. He sighed.

"It has been a long time, and things have always been easier for me in the Fade. I am not certain this is the best idea. It could lead to trouble." She exhaled and stepped forward.

"I'm willing to take that chance, if you are." Her warm eyes met his cool and he seemed to soften somewhat. She resisted the urge to reach out and touch him, to rub his chest or touch his cheek.

"I… may be, yes. If I could take a little time to think. There are… considerations." She was confused, but she understood needing time, and respected that.

"Take all the time you need." If he needed time, Miriel would give it, she had never met anyone like him and she knew that her keening for him was not going to go away any time soon. She liked him for his pensive and quiet nature, needing time to consider being with her was not out of the ordinary for him.

"Thank you. I am not often thrown by things that happen in dreams. But I am reasonably certain we are awake now, and if you wish to discuss anything, I would enjoy talking." So he was thrown by what happened, she only hoped that he would eventually be as excited and positive about it as she was.

"Do you make it habit of kissing girls in the Fade?" She resumed her teasing only because it was too easy and she enjoyed seeing him blush, he was adorable.

"It appears you have figured me out, lethallan." He chuckled and played with her. She was glad he was able to still willing be playful with her, even with the addressed sexual tension between them.

"You like to show the ladies your exceptional talents with the Fade, impress them with conjuring beautiful landscapes." He laughed a bit.

"Yes, the Fade is my preferred place for courtship." She batted her eyelashes and smiled as coyly as possible.

"Well, you can catch me in the Fade any time, but not now, because I have Inquisitor business to attend to." She sauntered slowly past him, stopping just so that her mouth was close to his ear.

"Take as much time as you need, but just so you know, I'm in this, no matter what trouble that may arise. And who knows, lethallin, maybe a little bit of trouble is just what you need." She left him with a pleasantly shocked expression on his face.


Starting the new year off with some fade tongue and thigh. Right on. Anyways, happy new year! Thank you for reading and please review :)