"Warren thinks I should meet with him."

Solas paused from his work unfastening the stays at her waist, then continued. "Are you going to take his advice?"

She sighed in a way that made him pause again. "I think I have to. He's offering men, horses, weaponry, resources, all things we suddenly find ourselves in dire need of."

"How very convenient for him." Solas tossed her undervest onto the sofa.

"Don't use that tone with me, I'm not playing into some sort of elaborate seduction. If I go, I go with an attachment, as if it were any other negotiation."

"As if it were," he frowned as she sat on the edge of the bed.

"It is, Solas. I just need him to understand that it is."

"Him. Does he have a name?"

"Do you want to know it?"

They stared at one another quietly, her clad only in her smallclothes, him standing above her. This was not how he'd wanted their first night back to feel. "I suppose I would rather not know it. Not yet. It keeps him in this sort of phantom state, not really real."

"He'll be real soon enough. I know his type."

"Spare me."

"Oh please," she leaned back on her elbows, "he'll be overly confident without much to back it up. Shorter than he likes to admit, probably already gone soft around the middle. I understand he has the troops, but he isn't a warrior. He isn't some gallant knight riding in to save me."

He shifted his weight from one leg to the other, hands loose at his side. "Since when am I to be terrified of you being swept away by dashing warriors, all muscle and shining armor? Is there something I've missed?"

"Not at all. Everyone knows I prefer skinny magic types, no muscle, no armor." She quirked a brow.

"So you find me skinny? No muscle?" Solas approached the bed then, her foot coming up to press against his chest, holding him back.

"I've forgotten. Show me?"

"You will have to remove your foot."

She smiled slightly, tongue playing at the edge of her parted lips as she shoved him with her toes. "Make me." In response, he tried to lightly push her foot off of him, only to find her pressing back in strong resistance. She dropped the smile. "Make. Me."

Evelyn released a breathless giggle as he roughly tugged on her ankle, pulling her fully onto her back. He was above her then, her wrists in his hands, pinned on either side of her head. "Is this what you want?" he asked, eyes trained on her lips.

"Mmm-hmm." She struggled against him slightly. "Am I want you want?"

"You are. Always."

Evelyn roughly shoved her hips up against him. "Then shut up and take me."

This had been the return he'd craved:tumbled together in her bed, frantically grasping one another as each struggled for, and ultimately lost, control. Her noisy gasps grew faster, her feet hooked behind his knees and he again lost himself, completely, in her. They laid together after, catching their breath, still tangled together as the world slowly returned. "Was that," he cleared his throat. "Was that what you were looking for?"

Evelyn held one arm aloft, wiggling her fingers as she rubbed her wrist. She let out a laugh. "Apparently it was."

"Glad I could deliver."

"Warren refers to it as you 'clearing my head.'"

"Did you really need to bring him up? Now?"

"Sorry, I'll banish the thought."

"Too late," he pushed up slightly, leaning against the pillows. "What did he have to say about the other part?"

"He asked me if I've completely lost him mind."

"Did you explain that, yes, clearly you have?" he heard her laugh again. "And that did nothing to dissuade him on the topic?"

"The topic of," Evelyn lowered her eyebrows and her voice dramatically, "him?"

"Yes. Him."

"Halden."

The name stabbed through his heart like a blade of ice, yet he managed to keep his face impassive. "Ah. Halden."

"It's just a name."

"Does he have another?"

She sat up quickly, pushing her hair back in distraction. "Vael," she crossed to her dresser and began rooting around in one of the drawers.

"So he is royalty, then."

"His family is, yes. He isn't some sort of heir to a throne. Much too far down the line of succession."

"But wealthy."

Evelyn paused, gripping the edge of the drawer. "Yes. Very."

"And not without influence."

"Solas I am considering meeting with the man. I'm not..." she pulled a shift over her head. "I'm not going to run away with him."

"I never implied anything of the sort."

"No, but you've got my sheets balled up in your hands like you're strangling them. Don't think I don't know what your jealousy looks like."

Solas' eyes dropped to the sheet as he released it from his grip. Damn. "I am not jealous."

"Good." She placed her hands on the mattress. "You have no reason to be. But I'll remind you every time I can, and I just ask you do the same."

"Remind you of what?"

She crawled across the sheets. "Of who I fucking belong to."

It was less than a month until she was summoned, the engraved envelopes arriving in quick succession to discuss the time and place of their meeting, the arrangements made for her travel and a large soiree planned to greet her to Starkhaven. Dressmakers, scribes, even Master Tethras himself were summoned in preparation of her travel, the dwarf exiting the conference with a sideways glance at Solas that lingered a little too long.

"You doing okay with all this, Chuckles?"

"Why would I not be?" Solas pretended to read the same line he'd been struggling with for the better part of an hour.

"She's running off to meet with the man she's allegedly destined to marry and you're fine with that."

He closed his book. "I believe Inquisitor Trevelyan will marry who she wishes to marry."

"And you don't think that's Halden Vael."

"I think the Vael family could be a valuable resource. I do not believe that requires a marriage."

"So you're just going to send her off, and be okay with that."

"I understand I am to travel with her."

Varric let out a low whistle. "Oh you are playing with fire. Look, I know these people. I lived with these people. Hell, I traveled with one of them for awhile. They're pious, they're rich, they're full of important duties and beliefs and righteous purpose... but they're also very accustomed to getting what they want."

Solas turned his book over in his hand. "And you think they want her."

"I think they want power. And the Inquisition represents that. She represents that." Varric crossed his arms.

"You think that I will..." Solas waved the book. "Be put out by this."

"I think you're going to get royally fucked by this. I just hope we don't all end up royally fucked in the process, no offense."

"None taken."

Varric made to leave the area before pausing. "Just, consider not traveling with her. For your own sake."

"I will consider it."

Varric snorted. "No, you won't."

The castle was ample yet understated, a testament to how the family put Maker and Andraste above their own earthly desires, while still leaving room for 38 bedrooms, a full servants' wing, three kitchens, an indoor fishing pond, and two ballrooms. Solas wound his way through the corridors to her rooms in the hours before her grand introduction, ignoring the curious glances from those tasked with preparing for the feast. He didn't care if he didn't belong here.

He had a gift to deliver.

Evelyn held the thin straps up against the light. The material was silken, shimmery, completely iridescent and knotted at one juncture. "I don't understand," she rolled it inside out with her fingers. "Am I to wear this?"

He gathered her hair up in his fist, twisting it into a haphazard bun. "Mmhm," he murmured, hairpins clasped between his lips.

"I wouldn't even know how to begin putting this on," she laughed, but there was a nervous undercurrent to the sound.

Solas removed the pins from his mouth and secured her hair at the base of her neck. "That is precisely why I am here: to assist."

She blushed, looking downward. "And what of the serving girls they gave me? Are they going to assist in your assisting?"

"I told them their services were no longer necessary."

"I'm sure that started rumors."

"Since when are you afraid of rumors?" he spun her around by the shoulders and worked loose the ties on her dressing gown. The heavy fabric fell to the ground around her feet. He traced a finger from her bare hip to just under her navel.

"We agreed," she said in a hoarse whisper, "None of that until after the party. I have to have my wits about me."

"You agreed," he reminded her. "I thought this whole affair beneath you."

"I have to ensure the road remains open. The letters said-"

"The letters were lies. You and I both know he is not capable of blocking a major trade route. This is a bluff, a bluff intended to get you here, tonight."

"I have already declined his overtures, you know. I told him my heart lies elsewhere."

Solas turned her again, slowly, her back against his chest. "And you and I both know it's hardly your heart he's concerned with. Lift your leg." He bent with her, lifting a length of the silken ribbon over her foot. "Now the other." They rose back into a standing position in unison, him slipping the garment up over her hips gently, then giving it a firm tug as the knotting fit into place. Evelyn gasped as the knot pressed against her, sending heat radiating down her legs.

"You said this was called an... an utha..."

"Uthanerala," he said against the curve of her ear, again tugging on the material as he secured the topmost straps over her shoulders. Her knees went weak in response. "It's a lost practice, but the Orlesians have similar devices. Theirs are much cruder, I'm afraid."

"Is it silk?" the question was meant to re-center her thoughts, which had gone quite woozy with each adjustment he made to the fit.

"Sea silk, some thin thread from halla mane, and imbued with an enchantment."

"What kind of enchantment?" she asked as he withdrew from her to collect her gown.

Solas plucked the dress off its hook and turned toward her, saying softly under his breath, "sou'enleal."

The slight shock of vibration emanating from the knot knocked a noisy breath out of her. She gripped the chair of the dressing table as he gathered up the skirts of the gown and motioned for her to step inside. "Wh- what was that?"

He helped her arms through the dress's bodice openings and attended to the row of buttons up her back. "You said it was best if I keep my distance tonight, let you handle his proposal and, undoubtedly, overtures. That, vhenan, is a reminder."

"A reminder of what?" she asked slowly, eyelids heavy.

He bent to kiss the place where her neck met her shoulders, roughly, hint of teeth against her exposed flesh. "Of who you belong to."