AN: Thanks to everyone who read, fav'd and review the last chapter. I was thrilled by the response and it sounds like dark/protective/angry Solas has quite the following! I'll be sure to keep that in mind for the future chapters.

Also, like I mentioned before, we're coming to the end of the first story arc - so be sure to let me know what you'd prefer. Should I split it into another fic or just keep it all here.

Thanks again - it's been such a pleasure to write this!

Enjoy,

~Voi

The silence was more terrible than the screaming.

She had managed to get through mirror using the power of the mark. And though her brow was not sweat streaked from the exertion, she was focused more on the space around her than her heaving lungs and pounding heart. What had once been a ruin of solitude was that no longer. And she had stepped through the mirror to find a ringing, resonating cone of noise, of pain, filled by horrifying howls so unearthly it seemed the stuff of nightmare.

Was that Solas? Had Dheron found a way to hurt him too?

Lavellan had forced herself to swallow down the panic, the concern. Because while it was possible that Solas was the victim, it was likely, perhaps even more likely, that he was not. And that alternative was worse, nearly unthinkable.

What if that pain was Solas' doing?

She could still see the expression his face when he had first met her in the Fade, when he had healed the hurt, eased the ache of her mind. There had been such anger then, not directed at her, but outward. It had turned his grey-blue eyes into little chips of ice, so cold they nearly burned.

Could he be responsible for such agony?

The screaming sounded wrong, cruel, as if whatever was being done was meant to extract hurt in the slowest way possible. This was not the death knell of a man, a final farewell, this was the sound of one who knew they were trapped in this world without escape.

The abrupt end to the shrieks only seemed to make it worse, for now the noise lingered in her ears, clung with ghostly fingers to her mind.

Eerie, haunting, she buried the bubbling sense of dread beneath her iron control, but could not quite prevent the slight tremble in her hands, the sound of her blood thrumming in her ears.

She had to find Dheron, because no matter where he was Solas would surely be shadowing his steps.

It was impossibly to explain how she knew such a thing other than to acknowledge that it was instinct that provided such clarity.

Circling the hall of the eluvian, staining in the dark, it struck her then that the darkness of the room was an unnatural one. Not even her elven eyes, primed and well used to seeing in the dark, could piece its shroud. Thus, she had only her thought to keep her company. However, in the wake of the chilling silence she abandoned even that to focus on moving, walking, searching for the way out.

Hand running along the slick walls of the perimeter, she found a single opening, a door way, and pushed forward. Up and up she climbed, and gradually the cavernous darkness gave way to the silvery gleam of wet stone and veilfire, a shimmering trail she follow out of that endless night.

At the end of the path she found herself faced with an intricately wrought door of gleaming silverite. Images were woven in its finely crafted surface, depictions of elves and beasts surrounded by the flowing ether of what must be secrets given form.

Bracing her hands against the rippled texture, Lavellan took a deep breath and applied just the barest amount of pressure, finding the door well and truly shut when it did not even shift in the face of her efforts. Frowning at her discovery, she redoubled the strength of her action, leaning forward as she pushed, until her hands were red and aching.

But still the door remained closed, locked, though she did not think it was through any mechanical means.

Magic? She asked the voices of the well, for their insight, Do you know a way through it?

The answer was immediate, and chaotic, a flurry of ancient elven language that even now took considerable effort to understand.

But before she could settle on any one interpretation or solution, there was some other, more worrying sound that filled hear ears. And the musical whisperings of the well were broken, cast aside, by the deep rumbling menace of a growl, pitched low enough to vibrate the stones at her feet

A growl followed by the thunderous roar of an enraged creature.

"I told you to give me the amulet." A voice admonished her from just over her shoulder, echoed in her mind, "You should have listened, da'len."

Pivoting, Lavellan rounded on the speaker only to find herself face-to-face with empty space. But there was something there, she could see the air distort along its edges, and so she waited a beat longer.

The ghostly form of the High One materialized a moment later, his elven features more stark now in the silvery cast of the hallway.

"I told you but you would not listen." Mournful, the spirit shook his head, "And now the amulet has been used as the key to release the one creature that should have remained locked away for eternity."

She had heard the creature, but could not imagine what sort of beast would require a magical lock to contain it.

"What do you mean?" Lavellan demanded, "What was locked away? And I couldn't trust you. I still cannot."

The High One scowled at her accusingly, "Did he teach you nothing about sprits and demons? Did he not say that it was intent as much as expectation?"

He gestured angrily at the closed door ad the deep rumbling growl that seemed to only grow louder with time, "This should never have happened. And I lay the responsibility of that on you, little elf."

"And what is that precisely?" Lavellan asked with a slight frown, "Another demon?"

"See for yourself."

And then the man, the spirit, was gone, leaving Lavellan to face the opening doors by herself.

The roaring was nearly deafening without the metal to muffle it. And though the sound didn't change, the underlying current of menace seemed all more keen now that the path to the still face-less creature lay unobstructed.

She didn't know what to expect, but something in her gut twisted, and when at last she stepped forward into the hall, she realized why. It was the creature of the eluvian's vision, the monster that keepers and story tellers in every clan would use to remind young elven children to be wary.

Shaggy fur dark as the void, and those six unblinking scarlet eyes.

Lavellan swallowed hard as her head craned upwards to take in its full height. There was something deeply unsettling in seeing one's childhood fear alive and real and just as dangerous as one had imagined.

Dread Wolf.

She had thought that perhaps Dheron was the creature in disguise. But as she glanced down to where its large clawed paws contacted the floor, Lavellan's stomach twisted. Dheron's mangled body lay in a pool of blood, twisted nearly beyond recognition. It was only when she saw the telltale rise of his chest that she realized, with mounting horror, that the other elf was still alive.

But then she saw it, and her surprise vanished in the face of an anger so cold and fierce it seemed wrought of the void itself. Solas' staff, utterly destroyed, lay at the beast's feet in pieces. And there, half-submerged in the bloody pool, rose its intricately wrought top, like the bow of a doomed ship. Her once-lover had not needed his staff the way the Circle mages had seemed to rely on them, but the sight of it now, a marker of such violence, shook her to the core.

Had her trip through the mirror, the use of the amulet, broken the seal on this creature? Was she, as the High One accused, responsible for this carnage?

It was anger not guilt that drove her to march deeper into the beast's lair. She refused to believe Solas could be done it by something like this creature. They had faced Corypheus together, all manner of other fantastical beasts had fallen to their prowess.

He would not be done in by such a foe.

He could not.

Lavellan dared not believe otherwise.

The monster turned its fanged features once he noticed her, wiped the blood from its muzzle and sniffed the air as she approached.

"Where is he?"

Too furious to care that she was asking a god to explain himself, Lavellan scowled as the Dread Wolf slowly sidled closer, mouth snapping in warning as it drew near.

"Where. Is. Solas? The other mage."

She used every ounce of her experience as Inquisitor to keep her voice from shaking, to straighten her spine and keep her eyes fixed on those glittery red eyes that watched her with such interest. Testing her resolve, the creature reared back, and roared anew, snarled. She still had no proper weapon with which to fight, but tempered by the anger, the frustration that had been growing for the past several weeks in captivity, she needed nothing more than the mark on her hand.

"I asked you a question."

Scowling at him, Lavellan widened her stance, balanced her weight on the balls of her feet and waited, "I have fought all manner of 'god' before. Do not think you are anything I cannot handle."

The eluvian's vision still burned brightly in her memory and she knew that this creature, Dread Wolf or not, posed a danger to more than just herself.

Era'fen.

Numinehn.

Her resolved strengthened with their names, and she used the time she had to glance around the hall for the Amulet she knew Solas had taken. The one he had returned to her was tucked beneath her clothes once more. But though her eyes were well suited to the dark, there was not even a glitter or glint of stone she sought.

But no sooner had she glanced away when, out of the corner of her eye, she saw the Dread Wolf lunge, jaws snapping.

She reacted in an instant, sprang back even as her fist powered forward to land a small albeit well-aimed blow to the tender flesh of the beast's nose.

"Don't you dare!"

Snarling as she spoke, the mark on her hand flared in challenge, but so too did a a similar light explode from the crest of her shoulder. Bright, beaming, the green light crackled warningly when as the Dread Wolf dropped to all fours and slowly began to circle.

"I demand an answer. Where is he? Where is Solas?!"

The mark from the breach flared brighter still, the light from her shoulder following suit. In retrospect, that glimmer of light there made no sense, was something she had never seen before, but she would have to deal with that later.

"Answer me!" She shouted, arms coming wide as she faced him. "Do not think me simple. You may be an animal in shape but I am not fooled. Answer Me!"

She wore no armor, had no weapon nor shield with which to defend herself, but the look on her face was defiant, and would be to the last. It was her nature, the truest expression of her character.

Something he knew. Something he recognized.

The beast hesitated, and from his lips came the cracked whisper.

"Vhenan?"

Lavellan thought she was past being surprised, had seen all the strange things Thedas had to offer. As Inquisitor she had seen it all. But hearing his voice in her mind, seeing that familiar flash of blue beneath the red left her mute.

It was his voice she heard there. It was the look in his eyes that she knew. Feeling her breath catch in her throat, she search frantically for some sign that she had misunderstood, that she was wrong.

What she found seemed to prove the opposite, beneath the fangs and fur, beneath that anger was a man she recognized.

"How is this possible?" Shaking her head in confusion, she took a step closer, hands slowly uncurling from their fists, "Solas?"

The wolf shifted as she stepped increasingly closer, though it was impossible to tell whether it was wariness that drove him back or a trick get her close enough to bite.

"You are a mother."

His words were more in search of a confirmation rather than true question. Given how little she had talked about her life since they had parted, Lavellan didn't know how he had discovered such a thing. But she would not lie to him, not about this most important fact.

"Yes."

"Twins?"

She smiled faintly, "Two boys. They are very bright, take after their father I think. "

"Or perhaps they take after you." Solas' voice was tender and a little sad, "I am glad you found a measure of peace after Corypheus, found someone you loved enough to start a family."

Her smile faltered then.

"I..." She didn't know how to explain to him now, she had imagined this scenario so differently. "I didn't find anyone, Solas. I had the children within a year of Corypheus' defeat."

The silence that followed was deafening.

"I..." the wolf's ears twitched, "Forgive me, I am not sure I understand."

She looked up at the man who had given her children, the man who she realized, she knew very little about. There were a hundred different questions she wanted to ask him, now more than ever. But first she needed him to understand what had happened between them, what had grown.

"They are your sons, Solas."

And though she had phrased it as plainly and gently as possible, his sharp inhale of surprise spoke loudly enough.

"What?"

Denial and horror filled that singular word, the shock of it like a magical ripple through the air. And in that moment the wolf disappeared leaving Solas to stand there on unsteady legs as he tried to cross the short space between them.

"I am the father?" His bloodied hand pointed at his chest, smearing crimson across it like a badge. At her quiet nod, he took another sharp shuddering breath as he rocked back on his heels, pale face nearly ashen. She crossed the distance, caught him by the shoulders when it looked as if he might collapse. But the expression on his face, the look in his eyes made her swallow hard and there was no helping the emotion that surged so swiftly to the surface.

Because despite the surprise and fear in his voice, there was a smile on his lips. A pure and gentle expression of such joy that her eyes stung to see it.

"Twins." He breathed the word again, and this time she heard the emotion beneath that considered tone.

His blue eyes caught hers, clear and sharp, wide in wonder for only a moment before fatigue forced them suddenly shut.

She caught him before he fell.