The night had ended in disaster and IIyana had only herself to blame.

She'd suspected Cullen had feelings for her but she'd chosen to ignore the signs. Or perhaps she did see them and had encouraged it. Whatever the reason, the look of despair on his face as she ran after Solas was all the confirmation she needed of his emotional attachment.

As for Solas, he only informed her that they were needed back in the ballroom before striding out of the gardens. He was heading into the Royal library when she caught up to him to immediately apologized.

"Solas, please wait. I can explain. It's not what it looks like."

"Let me guess - he kissed you."

IIyana swallowed over a knot of unbearable tension and nodded.

"Inquisitor." His deep voice was rough with emotion. "Have I failed you somehow?"

"No," she denied.

"Then why in the hell didn't you wait for me?"

He looked so sad. So alone and all she wanted to do was wrap him in her arms.

"I never stopped waiting for you. But I didn't know if you were coming back. You left - and I didn't know where you went or where you were. I couldn't reach you in the Fade or get word to you. I didn't even know if you were alive or if something had happened to you."

He paused long enough to touch her cheek. "I was grieving, Inquisitor. Despite all that had happened prior to our leaving Skyhold, I had thought that at least what we had was real. If I had known that my absence would send you straight into Cullen's arms, I would have never left." His eyes swept over her face, lovingly but sadly. Without another word or a backward glance, he walked out of the library.

Now, sitting alone in her room, IIyana stared at the stars and ruminated in mute misery. With her hip perched on the window seat, she stared into the autumn night, her arms wrapped around her midriff as if she could keep out the chill that spread deeper and deeper as each moment passed.

She was in the wrong and she knew it.

Blowing unto the window pane, she lifted her finger and drew a heart, and another inside that one. As she began the third one, an image moved slowly into the center of it - a man with his hands clasped behind his back, coming towards her, and IIyana's heart began to pound in deep, painful beats.

Solas stopped close behind her and IIyana waited, searching his face in the window because she was afraid of what she'd see - or not see - if she turned and saw it clearly.

After a long pause, he finally spoke. "Inquisitor."

She drew in a shaking breath and slowly turned her head, watching his lips twist sadly as his gaze met hers and held it. Without words, he reached for her slowly, giving her every opportunity to object. She stood up and took one step forward and found herself in his arms.

He smoothed her hair, whispering his apologies - his regrets - before his mouth dragged against hers again and again, and when her lips were open and damp, he sealed his overs hers. He kissed her until she was breathless and leaning into him, fitting her body against his rigid length, her arms wrapping around his neck to hold him closer. When he finally broke the contact, he kissed the side of her jaw.

"Ar abelas, Inquisitor," he whispered tenderly. "Ar abelas."

His hand gently urged her backward until she tumbled onto the bed and he kissed her throat, worshiping the skin against his lips. She felt a series of tugs and then the front of her nightdress opened, his hand coming to rest against one of her breasts. He waited for a heartbeat, then two, then he slid his thumb over the tip, felt it plucker and hardened. She was quick to respond by turning her body into him, and he pressed her closer. He licked at her flesh, drawing the taut nipple into his mouth, circling with his tongue. She released a breathless moan that ignited his body with fire.

In one smooth motion, he shifted upward and kissed her lips with raw, dizzying hunger. His hands trailed up her thigh as he deepened the kiss, his fingers teasing softly at the bud of her sex. Solas pressed his fingers into her and the wet welcome of her warmth almost broke his control.

She gasped his name.

He thrust his fingers deeper.

"Again," he demanded. "Say my name again, Inquisitor."

"Solas." She said. Her voice throbbing with emotion. "Don't stop, please."

He gave in to her wishes. He moved his fingers in her and her hips lifted, arching sweetly against his hand while she clung to his shoulder, her nails digging into her flesh. She was close, so damn close, pressing into his hand as he stroked the pleasure from her starving body until it peaked, nearly exploding.

"I have almost forgotten how beautiful you are," he whispered against her cheek, " how delicately lovely you are."

She managed to whisper his name before his mouth covered hers again.

Desperately, frantically, they begin to tear off each other's clothing. There was no desire for sweetness between them. The ambivalence - of them, their relationship, what will happen tomorrow - melted away and all that mattered was a violent need that had to be fulfilled. Pinning her on the bed with his weight, Solas tongue drove into her mouth, filling it then withdrew, while his fingers within her began to match the slow, driving movements of his tongue. He skillfully stroke her until she was the on the brink of madness, then deliberately withdrawing again, leaving her body aching and wanting.

Drunk with desire, IIyans release a series of moans as he toyed with her body, then gasped and arched tightly when his tongue traced a hot trail down her abdomen towards her sex.

"Look at me, Inquisitor," he demanded. His hands caught her hips, lifting until his mouth closed around her. By the time he stopped, white-hot sensations were screaming through IIyana's entire body and she was desperate for release.

"Please," she begged. "I need you so much."

He raised himself over her, his rigid cock probing lightly, teasingly at the place his hands and mouth have been. Moaning softly, IIyana arched her hips, whispering her love for him, and she nearly cried out in surprise when he suddenly stopped.

"No! Please!," she begged. "Don't stop." Wrapping her arms around him.

"Do you want me, Inquisitor?" He whispered, his hands braced beside her head as he held himself away from her, his face hard. He didn't give her a chance to reply. He eased into her wet warmth with tormenting slowness, then moved purposely backward and forward, thrusting himself a fraction closer, but never filling her to the hilt. Half mad with desire, IIyanas legs gripped him tightly, her chest rising and falling in quick, shallow breathes.

"Do you?" He repeated, pulling all the way out until she pleaded yes.

Satisfied, Solas gave her what she wanted. As if to atone for his absence, he gave himself to her with unselfish determination, moving his body in ways that would maximize her pleasure. He fought down his own pleasure as her body tightened around him and she exploded, spewing love words into his skin as spasm of pleasure shook her. He rode the waves with her until he, too, was moaning loudly. His breathing became shallow, his muscles coiled tightly. He plunged into her several times before spilling into her warmth.

When it was over, there was complete silence between them. She was laying on her side looking at him, waiting for him to say something. He looked tired, withdrawn, lost in thought. She could sense the wheels in his mind turning, assessing as if he were checking all the facts, waging an internal war with himself. Unable to bear the silence any longer, IIyana reached out, thinking she should explain kiss in the garden. "Solas ..." she whispered. "We need to talk ... about what happened."

He was still for a long time, staring at the ceiling; then he gave her a sad, solemn smile. Tomorrow, was all he said before he got out of bed, dressed, and walked out into his own rooms.

The road back to Skyhold was paved in both rain and high winds that swept throughout camp, chilling IIyana to her bones. She was cold, miserable, and soaked, her boots making that annoying squishy noise whenever she moved. And as the storm clouds darkened, so did her mood.

It appeared that Cullen had finally waved the white flag, expressing his apologies for his behavior the morning after the ball, then avoiding her completely as if she had the plague. He continued to be polite and cordial, and supportive when it came to the Inquisition. But he no longer sought her company.

Which she felt was for the best.

As for Solas. Tomorrow came and gone and he'd yet to give her a minute of his day. In fact, he roamed around camp as if he was some dark, demonic wraith waiting to suck someone's soul. He roamed around for two days before she was able to gather her courage to speak to him. When she did, he greeted her with contempt and she stormed off to cool her temper. He continued to ignore her all throughout the day and evening.

The following morning, she tried to extend an olive branch by bringing him tea. He accepted the drink with a kind gesture after she explained that she understood his aversion towards the drink, and that she hoped he would like her mother's recipe instead. He took a sip in good faith but did not indicate that he was interested in a conversation. His rejection had hurt. She left him alone after that.

And now as IIyana sat underneath her tent, her gaze followed Solas as he moved around the campfire. She'd had nothing but time to reflect on them over the past week, nothing but time to place herself in his position, and she was ashamed to admit that she'd been wrong. She could find no words strong enough to convey the depths of her despair that he was suffering at her hands. He'd been grieving. Had left to process his loss, only to return to find her in another man's arms.

Of course, he'll be upset. She would be as well.

She silently cursed. How could she have forgotten that Wisdom had died? Or his horror-stricken face when he'd killed the mages without mercy. Or Cole's words ...He thinks you are afraid of him. Her face twisted in horror - she saw me for the monster I am. All she thought about was her and her own pain, never once did she considered him. It was sickening how selfish she'd become.

Her interest piqued when Solas made his way to an elven woman IIyana had never seen before. She was a young and pretty thing, with light-brown hair and blue eyes that reminded IIyana of a clear, summer day. She greeted Solas with a smile and a steaming cup in her hand, which he happily took. She watched the way his eyes brightened at her smile, the slight blush framing her lovely face as she gazed into his eyes, the two immersed in a private conversation. They both laughed and her stomach dropped.

A pain unlike any she had ever experienced exploded in her heart, obliterating all rational thought and emotions within her. As if something had snapped, IIyana set her cup aside and stalked out of camp. She ignored the calls from her friends, her advisors, and continued walking in no direction at all. She was nearly a mile from camp when strong fingers wrapped around her forearm and snatched her back.

"Where in the hell did you think you were going?" Solas demanded. His tone indicated he wanted to be anywhere but here, with her.

"It's none of your business. Now let me go!"

"I would gladly do so if you didn't insist on endangering yourself."

"I can take care of myself, and I definitely don't need you to protect me."

"I'm sure you don't," he said in a flat, expressionless voice and released her.

His indifference enraged her and she jerked away. "Go back to your plaything, Solas."

"Inquisitor -"

"Inquisitor?" she scoffed. "Not yana, m'yana ... or even vhenan? Are you so fickle that you discard those you claim to love so easily?"

His eyes narrowed. "Now is not the time or place to discuss this."

"Then when? Tomorrow? The day after? Because I remember you telling me we'll talk and I've been waiting for an entire fucking week!"

He was afraid that if he validated her distress, he would eventually snap and say something unforgivable. Therefore, he chose the easier route - he explained that he came after her because the Inquisition was worried about her safety after she left the camp's perimeter.

"But not you?" Unable to control how her voice shook. "You weren't worried about me?"

"We should get back," he finished grimly, indicating he was done with this conversation, "before they send troops to come look for us."

"You're a damn coward, Solas."

"Back to name calling, I see.

She was so frustrated with his complacent demeanor that she stormed off with him calling after her.

"You're behaving like a child, Inquisitor."

She whirled around, eyes blazing. "I'm behaving like a child?! You're the damn child. You're the one who refuses to talk to me. I'm lucky you even knew I existed considering you barely acknowledge my damn existence this past week." She kicked the ground and mud splattered on his shirt. "Let me take a moment to pray to the Gods that you cared enough to come after me."

"Believe me," he said, wiping the mud from his shirt, "my coming after you was not by choice."

Her words died in her throat. Everything suddenly burned with hurt.

They stared at one another, one cool and collected, the other heated and dysregulating. How long can they sustain before one of them does something to push the other away? She was tired and exhausted, and she just wanted things to go back to the way it was between them.

Releasing a defeated breath, IIyana walked back to him, reaching out to touch his cheek. "Vhenan, I'm sorry. I love -"

He snatched her hand away. "Do not say those words to me," he hissed. Rage blazed in Solas' eyes for a moment - more emotion than IIyana had seen all week - but then he shrugged resignedly. "It's not safe for you to be out here, Inquisitor. You either return with me or I carry you back to camp."

Realizing the magnitude of their predicament, IIyana tried to swallow past the aching lump in her throat. The rage she'd seen before had slipped back into a cool mask of indifference, and he was looking at her as if she were a petulant child. She'd rather he yell at her than stare at her as if she didn't' even exist.

"Lead the way," she rasped and followed him silently back to camp.

Skyhold was ablaze with lights when the Inquisition returned home the following evening. Leading her horse into the stables, IIyana greeted Master Dennent with a smile before grabbing her gear and heading up the steps towards her room, informing her companions she'll join them for a round of drinks later. She took the steps leading into the main hall with Solas walking next to her, neither speaking. It appeared that they've come to a silent understanding that they both needed to ... avoid each other.

IIyana entered the main hall and came to a sudden stop, Solas nearly running into her. Standing in the middle of the room, Leiliana and Josie were conversing with a tall, handsome Dalish man bearing Dirthman's vallaslin. His medium length, whaite hair was shaved at the sides and bundled up into a bun atop his crown. A ghastly scar covered half his face, but it only accentuated his masculine features. His rich, velvety laughter filled the room at something Josie said and when his golden eyes caught IIyana's from across the room, his lips twisted into a devilish grin.

"IIya! The love of my life! How dare you keep me waiting."

Through a blur of tears, she saw him move, his arms spread wide in greeting. She broke into a sob, dropping her bag as she launched straight into his chest, his arms wrapped around her. He smelled of fresh dirt, trees, and home. Desperately, she clutched him to her as though she'd been adrift at sea and someone had finally tossed her a rope.

"IIyana ...". He tightened his arms around her in concern. "What - what's the matter?"

"I'm so stupid," she cried, her tears soaking into his shirt. "So fucking stupid."

For as long as he's known her, Eri Lavellan has never seen IIyana so broken. So fragile. Not even when she discovered her parents were killed by Templars. He glanced down at the crying woman in his arms and raised questioning eyes to meet her advisors, then to the mage standing by the front doors. Wrapping his arms protectively around her small, shaking frame, Eri soothed her gently as she wept brokenly into his arms while he glared intensely at Solas.