Chapter 4: Shadow of the Wolf

Solas's rest was not peaceful. In severe contrast to the dreams he had of the prior night, he had visions that disturbed him. It was not often that he felt himself pulled into the form of the Dread Wolf, but as the Veil weakened and he was not in control of his emotions, the nightmares came to him, stronger than ever before.

His whole body rippled like a shadow, one with the darkness of the landscape. He tracked her at night through ruins covered in dirty snow, surrounded by burned trees. She ran from him, but he was faster. She couldn't outrun him. She couldn't hide from him. One leaping bound was all it took to catch her, pinning her to the ground. As he stood over her, he smelled the fear and saw the terror in her eyes as she looked back up at him, cowering, arms raised in defense. Without mercy, he struck. Teeth sunk down into her flesh and bone snapped in his jaws as hot blood filled his mouth. Her screams echoed in his ears as he ripped back his head, tearing apart muscle and sinew, severing the arm from her body.

Wrenching himself awake, sweating and panting for breath he shook his head vigorously to clear the terrible images from his mind. It wasn't real. It wasn't. Yet the metallic taste in his mouth still lingered as if it had been real; as if he had tasted her blood.

Feeling sick to his stomach, he rose and stumbled to the wash basin, splashing cool water over his face. He repeated the action, running his hands over his face and head, trying to ground himself back in reality and catch his breath. Bracing himself, he raised his eyes to the mirror, but no shadow of the wolf remained there. Two grey eyes stared back at him; not six red eyes like burning coals. Relieved, he dried his head with a cloth and lay back down on the bed. For hours he stared up at the ceiling, afraid to fall back asleep or enter the Fade; afraid to find himself joined with the Dread Wolf again.

"I didn't expect to find anyone awake yet," Lavellan commented, leaning against the stone railing of the courtyard that overlooked the surrounding scenery. Dawn barely broke and the morning was still young. Glancing at his face, her smile disappeared. "You look terrible. Did you not sleep well?" He did not answer, but he didn't need to. She could guess, particularly as he avoided her gaze, wearing that all too familiar grim expression. "Bad dreams?" she asked gently, stepping a little closer to him.

He clenched his jaw, turning his head away, afraid to look her in the eye.

Noticing the rigid tension with which he held himself, she reached out and covered his hand with hers. "You know, if you have trouble sleeping, you can always come to me. I'm happy to talk or listen or share a cup of tea. Whatever you need." Removing her hand, she stepped closer to him, wrapping her arm around his waist and hugging him from behind. "Even if it's just a bit of comfort."

The warmth of her embrace soothed him and his body relaxed. It felt familiar and comfortable to be with her, even though it had only been a few days since she returned. She had a way of setting him at ease.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she offered.

He shook his head. That was the last thing he wanted. He wanted to forget.

"That's fine," she said, giving him a small squeeze. "I can just stay here like this all day," she sighed contentedly, nuzzling against his back.

Despite himself, a small smile tugged at his lip. He turned, much to her indignation, but then drew her into his arms. "I am tempted to take you up on that." She smiled and he brushed a strand of hair out of her face. "You look as if you did not sleep well either," he commented, touching her chin.

She shook her head. "No. Nightmares," she admitted. "We should have gotten up and played a round of Wicked Grace or chess."

He thought for a moment about asking if she wanted to share, but then thought better of it, fearing he may have been a part of her dream given the way they left things the previous night re-living the anchor's removal. Or worse. Instead, he deflected. "Shall we have a game of chess?"

"Certainly."

They sat and began their game. Solas played as white this round, making the first move. "Do you have nightmares often?"

She looked up at him as she moved her pawn. "More often than I would like," was all she said, rubbing her chin as she thought about her next move. "Do you have them often?"

"Sometimes," he admitted. "Though I do still spend most of my slumber in the Fade."

"Yes, avoiding me rather adeptly, if I recall," she said, capturing one of his pawns.

"Yes," he said quietly, moving his knight out of harm's way.

"I missed our meetings in the Fade. When we were together, they were… rather wonderful."

"You had a keen interest in history, as I recall. It was a pleasure to share what I knew with you."

"I like to learn. And you knew so many fascinating things. Plus, I didn't mind the occasional kiss that sometimes came with such ventures. Especially those with tongue."

His lip curled into a smile as he glanced up at her. "I do seem to recall you enjoying yourself."

"As did you. I seem to recall you getting rather handsy during our trips to the Fade." She tapped her cheek, thinking. "In fact, if memory serves, the first time you touched my ass was in the Fade. You were not shy about that at all."

"Would you have preferred me to be shy? I seem to recall you were the one who initiated the first kiss."

"Yes, well I couldn't help myself. I told you, I was properly smitten by that point."

"I had wondered if you requested my company in the Fade so often for a lesson in history or for more… intimate moments."

"Both, certainly. What can I say? I find history fascinating. And the same was true for the handsome elf telling me about it."

Solas smiled, though the smile vanished as a thought that had lingered in the back of his mind resurfaced. "I heard an interesting piece of history about you from the Peace Keeper yesterday."

"Oh? And what did he tell you? Something embarrassing from my childhood?"

"No. He told me that you previously had an arranged betrothal."

Her face fell and she dropped her gaze back down to the board as a familiar bitter taste returned to her tongue. "Ah. That. I suppose you have questions you'd like to ask?"

"You do not have to share if you do not wish."

She waved the thought away, sighing heavily. "No, no. I suppose I should tell you. It's not my favorite story. I don't come off very well by the end of it, I should warn you."

He waited as she took another breath to gather her thoughts.

"My father wanted me to marry a hunter from a clan that was close with ours. His name was Varitan. He was a renowned hunter and warrior, and by all accounts, a catch for any woman. Our clans often traded together and he took a liking to me. I didn't return his feelings, but he thought he might change my mind in time. When that didn't work, he went to my father and asked him to arrange a bonding between us. My father…" She paused, biting her lip for a moment as she fought for control over her emotions. "My father agreed, despite the fact that I told him I wasn't interested. But my father assumed he knew best and told me that the arrangement had been finalized and I was to go through with it anyway. I refused and we fought. Loudly. For a while. Until he gave me an ultimatum. Bond myself to Varitan or leave the clan. So I packed a bag and went to my Keeper and asked her for permission to leave. She was kind enough to appoint me as a liaison for the clan and I left. And my father has not returned any of my letters since."

"If it is any comfort, I'm sure your father still cares for you."

Clenching her jaw, she shook her head in disagreement. "I don't think that is true. My father is a stern, stubborn man. His silence is answer enough for me to know."

"Then you must be surprised to find that your father has written to me."

Her head snapped up and she looked at him, bewildered and disbelieving. "What?"

He reached over to the board and claimed her knight with his rook. "Yes. In addition to Clan Lavellan's declaration some months ago against me, they sent the head of a Fen'Harel statue as a gift." She winced, but he was unbothered. "I received many similar ones, but this was different, for I also received a paw from one of the statues as well. Along with a note from Haladavar Lavellan."

She gulped, heart frozen in her chest. "What did it say?"

"'An arm for an arm. For my daughter. I am coming for you.'"

"Ah. Yes, lovely. That sounds like him. At least I know he reads my letters."

"You told him to threaten me?"

"What? No! I told him I lost my arm and wanted to see him. I told him I wanted to tell him the truth about Fen'Harel and the history of our people. But I suppose he must have thought…" she trailed off as a sinking feeling settled in her stomach.

"That the Dread Wolf had corrupted his daughter?" Solas finished.

She nodded, biting her lip.

"I take it he is unaware of this proposed alliance between us and what it entails?"

"No, the Keeper must have told him. I tried to explain to him, but he never responded to any of my letters. Oh no, this is terrible," she hung her head in her hand, pinching her temples. "He's going to kill me."

"Do you wish to reconsider-"

"No!" her head snapped up. "No. I know what you're going to ask and no, I don't want to reconsider. I told you I would stay with you and I will. I mean that." She searched his eyes. "It was never going to be an arrangement without complications. I knew that when I agreed. So please, Solas, do not ask me to reconsider again. I am with you, no matter what. Bonded or not, I have decided my path forward."

"Even if it means losing your family?" He regretted it the moment he said it, for her face fell into deep, melancholy sorrow.

"They have already cut their ties with me. It changes nothing."

He was quiet for a time. "I am sorry, vhenan. I do not mean to cause you pain. You risk much for me. You deserve better."

"It is my decision. I know what it entails. I am prepared for that."

He met her gaze and saw the resolve there. She would not back down. She would not run from him.

"I see. Then let us speak of it no more. Come, let us walk in the garden and watch the sunrise. I have something I wish to ask." She followed him around to the gardens, still damp with the morning's dew. "What did you want to ask me about?"

He clasped his hands behind his back as they walked through the lush greenery. "I was wondering if you might share with me the particulars of Dalish bonding. I find myself with questions."

"Certainly. Ask anything you'd like to know."

"Tell me then, for I must admit my ignorance in these matters, are you free to bond yourself to another if there is still a prior claim that exists?"

The question caught her slightly off guard, but she recovered herself quickly enough. Cursing her uncle for revealing a piece of information she had kept private she took a deep breath and prepared herself to explain honestly. "You are referring to the arrangement my father made for me? It is not a concern. That arrangement was made by my father, but there was no ceremony and the Keeper did not agree to it. My Keeper did sign in support of the proposed alliance, however. If we were to perform the bonding between ourselves, it would invalidate any prior arrangement. I'm also fairly certain Varitan would have bonded himself to another by now. He was not the type of man to wait around for a woman."

"And what are the Dalish bonding customs? I am unfamiliar with them."

She tried to keep her heart calm and steady. "It varies from one clan to the next. But commonly, they form from one of two ways. Either two elves who have come of age and received their vallaslin can go to their clan's Keeper to receive their blessing. Or an arrangement is made, typically by the individual's parents or the clan's Keeper, if needed. Sometimes a feat is required first, but not always. Gifts are usually exchanged between the two parties once it is decided they should bond. Usually the gift is supposed to symbolize feelings or what the other person can provide in the relationship. My mother, well-regarded for her skill at crafting, gave my father a beautiful and strong bow she made herself. He was a hunter and a warrior and he killed a bear and gave her a cloak from its hide. That was considered a good match, but not all giftings go well. I had a friend who received a bouquet of flowers from someone and she broke out in a terrible rash from it. The poor lad wasn't all too knowledgeable about plants and accidentally picked the wrong ones. He was of course covered in the rash too, but her parents took it as a bad sign and warned her not to bond herself to him."
"And did she?"

She laughed. "Not then, no. But he wisened up and took the failing to heart, studying under an herbalist from his clan to learn. Two years later he made the offer again and this time the bouquet didn't give her a rash and was enough to win her and her family over. It wasn't funny at the time because the rash was horrible, trust me, but it's a story she laughed at after they bonded. They're quite happy, with fwo little ones, last I heard." She smiled at the memory.

"Is there more to the proposal to be bonded? Or is it merely the exchanging of gifts?"

"Sometimes it is that simple, particularly with arranged bondings. But not always. There was a young couple who came to our clan when I was younger who were seeking refuge. The woman's father didn't approve of the man, so they left their old clan to be together. They didn't have anything to offer apparently, with so few possessions, so he gave her a stone from the ground and promised to make that place their new home and give her a life there. It was all very romantic to a young adolescent elf like myself at the time. But I think the romance of the moment depends a great deal on the couple. There is usually a bit of talk about it between them and then one of them, typically the man, declares his intention to be bonded to the woman he loves. I did hear of an arranged bonding where the man was held at knifepoint and forced to declare his intentions to bond with a woman he had impregnated. They had to send a search party out and drag him back to make the offer. Needless to say, theirs was not a happy union and he fled to a city before the child was born. It was very sad."

"Is sex prior to bonding considered taboo, like it is in some places?"

She tried not blush too deeply as certain thoughts crossed her mind. "Are you worried you've ruined my reputation? I think sex with Fen'Harel, while not expressly stated in those terms, was quite forbidden by Dalish standards," she teased. "But, other than that, I suppose there are other reasons sex might be taboo. One does not have to be bonded to form an attachment or relationship. And even that is not needed for sex, I suppose, depending on the person. Sexual relations are not considered taboo prior to bonding, but if a child is conceived, it is expected that the two will do their duty to their clans and families by bonding, as children amongst elves are a rare gift. Once the two are bonded, monogamy is expected. You must understand, the Dalish are nomadic by nature and we all live in tents, so there are very few… erm, secrets. If a bonded person is caught sneaking into someone else's tent, they risk exile and public shaming. And potentially violent repercussions.

"Sex amongst couples before bonding is not necessarily taboo, though bonding for some poses other problems. Because the goal of most bondings is to bring a child into the world, homosexual couples cannot engage in a bonding ceremony. Most homosexual couples that I have known still spend their lives together like any other couple, but I have also known some families who have tried to force their children into an arranged bonding to produce children regardless of whom they love. It is not a fair practice, but most often the person refuses and stays with the partner they choose, even if it means they cannot be bonded in a formal setting. Some do cave to their families, however, and those are not usually very happy bondings." She thought of Dorian and the damage caused by his father trying to force him to comply with Tevinter's societal pressures. It was a shameful point for her to think that the Dalish were sometimes quite similar in that respect. "A bonding is considered sacred by the Dalish, as the coupling is meant to produce children and therefore the promise of the future with it."

Solas listened, considering his questions carefully. She was chewing on her lip like there was more she wanted to say, but she was uncertain of whether or not she should share more. "What is it?"

She gave a heavy sigh and rubbed her chin. "Because a bonding is meant to produce children, sex is expected and in some clans they will throw a celebration the morning after the relationship is consummated. Again, living in tents provides little privacy and most of the clan will know if the relationship was consummated or not. But some couples who are a bit more shy might wait until they can find a more secluded spot."

"That seems intrusive."

"Yes, it certainly can be," she agreed, knowing quite well that they had been very selective about the places they engaged in their own amorous activities. The thought of consummating a bonding in front of a strange Dalish clan in a tent did not hold much appeal to either of them.

"What of the bonding itself?" he asked, running a hand over his head to remove the thoughts prickling at his mind. "What is involved in the ceremony?"

"Well, the two usually wear something special for the ceremony, be it a personal token or ceremonial dress. A place is chosen, typically one of significance, ritualistic or otherwise. The couple join hands as the Keeper gives a blessing and performs a ritual each for good fortune, long life, and fertility. And then vows are exchanged. The vows may vary, but there is often something along the lines of 'Lama, ara las mir lath bellanaris' or a variation with a more personal touch. Then they kiss and the final blessing is bestowed. And then there is typically music, dancing, feasting, and a good deal of drinking to celebrate the newly bonded couple."

"And then it is consummated in a tent for all to hear?"

"I told you, not always. Sometimes there is too much wine in the belly. Or the couple does not see fit to wait and sneaks away while everyone else dances and drinks." She shrugged, waving the thought aside. "But of course, each couple is different. So are the clans. There are always different methods. In the Serief Clan they throw flower petals over the newly bonded couple. In the Evenalis Clan they dig a pit in the ground and roast an entire druffalo covered in banana leaves for hours and then they dig it up and serve it at the feast. The Gar'lain Clan perform their ceremonies by a lake where everyone releases floating lanterns into the sky after the final blessings have been made. There are ways to adapt tradition." She tucked her hair back behind her ears. "But what about you? What are bonding ceremonies like from your time? Are they very different? Is there something you would wish to do instead?"

He smiled, despite himself. She always asked questions like this, several in a row with eagerness and burning curiosity whenever he shared an old story from the Fade. But this time, he didn't have to pretend. He could share his own history with her. "It is not entirely dissimilar," he said, trying not to insult the Dalish interpretation of the bonding ceremony. "Because the elvhen were not mortal, a bonding was set for a length of time, but was not expected to last forever."

She listened intently. "Like the Avvar? With the knots the man has to undo to see how many years they will be together?"

"Not quite. An immortal life is long and that would require many knots. No, it is a joining of two beings, in both a spiritual and physical sense. The beings choose to be bonded and a ritual ceremony is performed. The bonding ritual connects them, like a spider's web between two trees. They can sense the other person's thoughts, feelings, emotions, and sometimes memories. In the time before the Veil, this bond was strengthened by the Fade's magic and primordial energy. The bonded could reach out to each other through their shared connection across immense distance. They…" he trailed off, watching as something in her expression changed. "What is it?"

"You've been bonded to someone before." It wasn't a question. Everything he was saying, the way he spoke about it, all of it was from personal experience. She remembered his request to travel to aid his friend, the bound spirit of wisdom who had called to him from the Fade. The one they could not save.

He straightened himself, uncertain of how to react. He hadn't informed her previously, but it hadn't seemed necessary. That part of his past was far removed from their current circumstances. "Yes. Does that bother you?"

His words and the pieces sunk in slowly. "The wisdom spirit… The one from the Exalted Plains that those mages had corrupted and bound… Were you bonded to her? Is that how you were able to hear her call for help through the Fade?"

"Yes. It is." He studied her face closely, trying to gauge what she was thinking. Did this change her opinion of him?

She opened and closed her mouth several times, shaking her head slowly, trying to find the words. "I'm so sorry," she finally said. "I knew you suffered her loss, but I didn't think… That must have been terrible. To feel all that, to hear her cry for help, and then we got there too late… I'm so sorry. I-I understand now why you left. That must have been devastating." She looked up at him with such sadness and remorse. "I am so sorry for what happened. For your loss. For what those terrible mages did. I…" she searched for words to convey her sorrow and regret for his loss. "I wish there was more we could have done to save her."

He had not expected this. After it had happened, he had left for a time on his own to grieve and recover, and though she helped him and offered her support, it was difficult for most people to understand why he would care so strongly for a spirit. She had been kind and understanding, but he hadn't expected this type of revelation to result in this reaction. He had anticipated anger or hostility, but instead she offered him her condolences and regrets, genuine and true.

"I am so sorry," she said again, and then she stepped in and wrapped her arm around him in a tight embrace.

The hug surprised him most, but he welcomed her comfort, holding her to him in gratitude. "Thank you, vhenan," he whispered softly, kissing the top of her head. Even now, when he should know all there was to know of her character, she continued to impress him.

Stepping back, he gestured back to the castle. "Come. Let us not dwell on this now. We should eat and talk later."

She nodded and managed a small smile. "Yes. Assuming my uncle has left anything for us to eat."

For an elderly man of relatively small stature, the Peace Keeper consumed enough food to feed a small army. Upon seeing the two of them arrive together he said, "Ah, good! You haven't killed each other. Sit. Break your fast before the muffins are gone." The basket that had likely held said muffins now contained only one. Solas gestured to the attendant who bowed and hurried away to bring more food.

Alarion spooned a pile of roasted nuts onto his plate. "Now, how go the negotiations? Has anything been settled?"

"Not as of yet, Keeper. There is still much to discuss," Lavellan said, taking her seat.

"Anything I can do to be of service? I am still the Peace Keeper for these talks, after all."

"Not at the moment, Keeper."

"And will you be needing my services or can I try and take a nap to recover the sleep I lost last night?" He grumbled, fixing her with a look.

"Did you not sleep well?" Solas asked Alarion politely. He hadn't seen Lavellan wince at her uncle's comment.

"Did I? I'm surprised she didn't wake everyone in the castle screaming bloody murder like that. Did it wake you up as well? Nearly gave me a heart attack."

The color drained from Lavellan's face as she stared down at her plate.

A sinking feeling of dread filled Solas's stomach. "Then you are welcome to rest today. I am certain the Ambassador and I have much still to discuss."

"Excellent. Now, is there more mango chutney… Ah, yes… Nothing aids a nap better than a full belly." Alarion reached behind a pitcher for the jar. Spooning a hearty amount on a slice of toasted rye bread.

The knot in Solas's stomach and the memory of the taste of blood lingering on his tongue rather stole away his appetite, however. He remembered hearing her scream from his dreams… but if the scream had been real… Had he slipped into the Fade, into the Dread Wolf's body? Had he found her and…

"Solas?" Her voice pulled him from his thoughts. "Could you please pass the basket?" she asked, gesturing to the fresh batch of muffins the server had placed in front of him. He hadn't even noticed. Warm steam wafted up, carrying the scent of raspberries and toasted walnuts with it.

"Of course," he said, passing the basket over to her. Her face was guarded as he studied it, which only intensified the feelings of suspicion and terror.

Later, he led her back to the gardens, where they could be alone and speak privately. Lavellan noticed his unnatural, grim silence that made the back of her neck prickle. Pulling her into a corner, he turned to her, fear and something darker she could not name lingered in his gaze. "Tell me, why did you scream last night?"

"I told you. I had a nightmare. It was nothing."

He stepped closer, towering over her. Stepping back, she bumped into the wall behind her. "Tell me what happened in your nightmare."

"No. I don't want to talk about it. Leave it alone," she said, trying to brush past him, but he grabbed her wrist.

"Please, vhenan," he begged, his voice oddly pained.

"It was just a dream," she argued, tugging on her arm, but when he didn't let go she looked up and their eyes met and she knew. Fear flooded her stomach. "It wasn't just a dream, was it?" she asked quietly.

He slowly shook his head, eyes pinched shut in shame and horror.

"But how?" she asked as the terror in her gut spread throughout her body.

Solas swallowed the lump in his throat, shaking his head and trying to find the words. "You saw the Dread Wolf in your dream, didn't you?"

She nodded, afraid to hear what she knew he was going to say. It hadn't been him. It couldn't have been him. "I was being chased and then it caught me and…" She looked down at her arm, clutching it as if she could still feel the pain.

Solas's stomach turned.

And then she looked back up at him and recoiled. "That was you?" she hissed, disbelief coloring her voice. "You bit my arm and tore it off?" Instinctually, she backed away. "I don't understand. Why would you-" Her fingers clutched at the false arm where it joined her real one, remembering the pain as if it had been real.

"It was not me. It was the Dread Wolf. He pulled you into the Fade, like he did to me," he whispered grimly

"I don't understand. You're not making sense. I thought you were the Dread Wolf?"

A shadow crossed his face as he looked away from her. He could not look at her. "I am the Dread Wolf. And I am not." He shook his head again. How could he make her understand? "When I formed the Veil, I sundered spiritual connection. Even from myself."

"So… You were the Dread Wolf? But you're not anymore?"

"No. It is not so simple. I told you, I was Solas first. But I became the Dread Wolf. He stalked through the shadows of this world, consuming, preying, prowling, hunting. He and I… formed a connection. Our spirits melded together and we became one and the same. But… I sundered him from myself when I created the Veil. And he has been trying to pull his way into this world. The Veil is weakening. And he is getting harder to control."

"What do you mean? I don't understand, Solas…"

Agony burned in his throat and eyes. "I told you I did not want you to see what I would become. I will become him again. Before I reach the end of the Din'anshiral, I will fall to his power. He will consume me, in the end."

"What? No. I-"

"You cannot stop it from happening. He is a part of me, even now. It is how he pulled me into the Fade, into him, before he attacked you."

"There has to be a way to stop it." There had to be. He did not have to become a monster.

"There is not. You must understand, I do not tell you this to hurt you. I tell you this because you must know. Because he is growing stronger than my will can contain. The Veil grows weak and he continues to claw and tear at it. If he breaks through it before I can tear it down myself, he will destroy everything. You must not let it happen. He must be stopped at all costs. If it comes to it, a weapon forged from red lyrium or the heart of a titan may stop him. But I cannot say for certain. He is old and strong. Stronger than all others."

"What do you mean?"

"He is the first. He is the pride of creation. But he has become corrupted over the millennia as Thedas falls into chaos and destruction. I will try to control him when the Veil falls, but if I cannot… If he cannot be stopped…" He looked at her, eyes full of deepest sorrow and regret. He did not want to ask it of her. But she was the only one he knew who could. "If I fail again, you must kill me."

She stepped back, shaking her head. "No, Solas. Stop this. Please," she gasped out, her throat constricting. So this is why he had tried to send her away, to make her hate him. Because he was afraid he wouldn't be able to control the Dread Wolf or stop him from destroying the world? And now he wanted her to promise to kill him, thereby killing the Dread Wolf, should he fail?

"Vhenan, you must. You may be the only one who can."

"No. No. No!" She shook her head vigorously in anger, storming up to him and fisting her hand in his shirt, yanking him to her. "You stop this. You stop talking like this right now. I will not kill you, Solas. I will not. So you listen to me, and listen well. You will find a way to control the Dread Wolf. You will find a way to best him and take command. And the next time that the Dread Wolf appears in my dreams, he better run from me. Because I will not let him take you from me, not even if I have to fight him tooth and claw. Look at me. Look me in the eye, Solas."

He obeyed. Her eyes burned with fiery will and determination. And within her gaze, he felt himself spellbound.

"You will not fail. I know it is what you fear. But it shall not come to pass. I won't let you fail. I believe in you. You will find a way. You will control the Dread Wolf. And you will remain the man I know you to be."

He wanted to argue with her. He wanted to tell her not to depend upon hope when the chances were low. He wanted to tell her to put her care and devotion aside to think of what sacrifices may need to be made for the greater good of all. But he could not. He had told her the truth. He had told her his fear and what was needed. If she needed her hope, he would let her have it. Damn it all, he would relish in that fiery determination of hers. He would let her passion overtake his fear. He would put his faith in her.

She gazed up at him, that same stubborn glint in her eye as ever. "Promise me. Promise me this."

Taking her face in both hands, he met her gaze and nodded his head. "I promise, ma vhenan."

She pulled herself up to kiss him. He returned the kiss, losing himself in her embrace.

"I love you, Solas. You know that, right?" she whispered softly against his ear.

"Yes, vhenan. I know."

Her grip on his shirt tightened, nails biting into his skin. "Var lath vir suledin, ma vhenan. This I know."

Her words tickled his ear and a current of electricity swept through his body, as if an enchantment had been cast by her touch and her words. Breathing in the gentle scent of orange blossom from her skin intoxicated him. Let her be right. Let her will prove the stronger in the end. Silently, he prayed for something he had not let himself hope for: a future with her.

Brushing back her hair, he took her hand and smoothed the back of her hand with the pad of his thumb. "In my time, bonding requires a ritual. Hands are clasped, like this," he explained, interlacing their fingers together.

Her eyes fluttered up to his face, surprised at the return to the topic from before.

"A spell is woven into a length of rope or ribbon. The person performing the ritual wraps their hands together and joins the ends together in a unity knot, tied like so," he said, casting a spell of blue light that danced like two serpents before joining in an elegant twist. "Then the vows are given and it is sealed with a kiss." Bending his neck, he kissed her gently, savoring her kiss. "Do you think the Dalish would object to such a ritual in a bonding ceremony?"

Blinking back tears of joy and relief she shook her head. "No. I think it would be a wonderful addition." She drew him in for another kiss, touching his cheek, when a thought occurred to her. Breaking the kiss, unable to keep the smile from her lips she told him, "I have to go. I'll be back of course. Meet me by the willow tree from before?"

He raised a questioning brow, but clasped his hands behind his back and agreed.