The Ambassador's Gambit

by Queen of the Northern Lights

Walking away from the woman he loved was the hardest thing he ever did. But when Lavellan comes back into his life, Solas must make a choice that will determine his fate and the fate of the world itself. Will he join forces with the Inquisitor or work against her? Can Lavellan save Thedas one more time? Can love persevere? Solas x Lavellan post-Trespasser romance/drama/adventure.

33. Chapter 33: Rejoined

Chapter 33: Rejoined

Lavellan pressed her forehead to the bars of the cage and recited the names and properties of alchemical ingredients to take her mind off the contractions. She was halfway through listing the properties of deep mushroom when she heard the sound of footsteps approaching her. Wiping the sweat from her brow, she forced herself to stand.

"Well, isn't this a wonderful surprise. I had heard the Inquisitor was with child, but… I suppose I never expected her to be this far along," Morrigan remarked, yellow eyes flashing in the darkness as she emerged from the shadows beside Vivienne. "Though she looks worse for wear."

"Please. She's Dalish. She's always looked rather raggedy. What else does one expect?" Vivienne looked down her nose at her. Had she been close enough, Lavellan would have happily reached through the bars and throttled her.

"She's in labor," Fenris said, coming up soundlessly upon them from the dark. He kept a healthy distance from the mages.

Morrigan raised an eyebrow and approached, though not near enough where she might end up within throttling distance. She cast a spell and inspected Lavellan with care. "Yes. It appears the baby is on the way as we speak. Most excellent."

Vivienne raised a perfectly arched brow. "Please do explain how that is 'most excellent' news. I would rather not have to deal with the wonders of childbirth at a time like this."

Morrigan turned back to her, smiling. "It means we can expect Fen'Harel to come to us sooner rather than later. Knowing his partner and unborn child have been captured is one thing, but knowing birth and the dangers therein are imminent will have him scrambling to find us."

A contraction hit and Lavellan clasped the bars with a white-knuckled grip, holding back the cry of pain in her throat.

"Assuming he doesn't leave her to her fate," Vivienne said with a cruel pitying look. "It wouldn't be the first time though."

"Cold-hearted bitch," Lavellan spat. She received a small amount of joy in watching Vivienne recoil in disgust.

"Charming, as always. Dirty little rabbit, aren't you?" she sneered.

Fenris's head turned at the comment and he narrowed his eyes, but said nothing.

Frowning, Morrigan rubbed her chin thoughtfully. "Hm. Her pregnancy may prove to be either a solution or a complication. We shall see how it goes. Though it would be a shame if she expires before we are ready. Perhaps it will not matter."

"Morrigan, why are you doing this?" Lavellan asked, her arms shaking in rage.

Raising an eyebrow, Morrigan smiled. "Taking back what I am owed, my dear Inquisitor. And now that I have the idol… well, I see no reason not to take the Dread Wolf's power for myself."

"No!" Lavellan rattled the bars of the cage. "Morrigan, you can't! I've seen the Dread Wolf. You don't want that. You won't be able to control it!"

"Control it? I do not intend to control it. I intend to take its power and make it my own."

Lavellan stepped back from the bars. "No. You can't. It's madness to even try."

"Some… lesser beings like yourself may think so. But you shall see when the time comes. Do try and stay alive until then."

With that Morrigan left with Vivienne.

Hanging her head against the bars, Lavellan prayed under her breath.

"You can pray all you like. It won't help you."

She looked up to see Fenris still there, leaning against the cave wall. "What are you still doing here?" she asked coldly.

Another contraction came over her and she gripped the bars for support as tears slid down her cheeks. "No. Please," she whispered, putting her hand to her stomach. "Please stop."

"It's no use. Once it's started, it can't be stopped."

"Leave me alone!" she cried, lashing out in her agony. Hot tears burned on her cheeks as she looked up at him with hate-filled eyes. "They're going to kill him. They're going to kill him and they're using me to do it." She sank to her knees, weary and defeated. Her tears dripped down her nose, landing on the floor in front of her.

Fenris watched her, but instead of relishing in her devastation, he felt strangely hollow and then sickened. Pushing away from the wall, he balled his hands into fists.

"At least you'll have the chance to say goodbye."

He turned to stalk off, but was thrown aside when a crack of light appeared in the middle of the air in front of him. Cursing in Tevene, he clung to a stalagmite for support as the floor of the cavern rumbled. Recovering his breath, Fenris's tattoos glowed and he held up his clawed hand, but there was nothing to attack. Another rumble came and the crack of light widened. Fenris glanced briefly back at Lavellan, still trapped behind the cell doors. "What is this? What are you doing, witch?" he snarled, backing away from the opening. But Lavellan's eyes were just as round and fearful as his. "It's not me," she said truthfully, backing away from the door of her cell. Another booming sound, like a pickaxe against ice, came from the crack as it split further open. Glittering light fell on Fenris's face as the center of the crack widened. A voice came from behind the crack of light, and yet there was no body. "Fenris!" It called out like an echo in a deep series of tunnels. The glowing elf's eyes widened in terror and he backed away from the crack, wary. Another sound, like a grunt and another hammering bash sounded. "Fenris!" His name echoed again.

"It said your name," Lavellan gasped, staring in disbelief.

He pulled his sword from his back and pointed it at her cell. "This is one of your tricks, isn't it, witch? Well it won't work."

A roar sounded from behind the crack, reverberating throughout the cavern as the crack widened still further, shattering the very space around it as a hand came through. Then a boot followed and a whole person stepped into the cave. The man had shaggy black hair and armor that had taken many beatings. Everything about him seemed wild, like someone who had walked across the country with nothing but the clothes on their back. Sweat trickled down his dirt-streaked face, but the smile that stretched across his face was pure joy. His bloodied fist clutched at his staff for support as he panted, trying to recover his breath. "Fenris…" he gasped. "I could never say goodbye to you."

Raising a shaking hand, Fenris shook his head wordlessly, backing away. "No. I won't play along with this trickery." Turning his sword on the man before him. He leapt forward and attacked, slashing the greatsword down upon the stranger.

Striking his staff upon the ground, the man blocked the blow with a shield spell. Fenris's blade glanced off of it and the man frowned. "Well. That's not quite the reaction I was hoping for after almost four damn years."

Fenris raised his sword again. "You're not him! You're not Hawke! Hawke is dead. You're just some demon." Springing forward, he launched another attack, this time ripping through the shield with his clawed greave.

The man blocked with his arm and then in a bold move, stepped into the attack, grabbing Fenris's collar and pulling the elf to him in a desperate kiss.

When they broke apart Fenris blinked several times in astonishment. "No. That's not possible."

The bearded man chuckled. "It's me, Fenris. I like to think I'm rather good at the impossible."

"I don't understand," Fenris said, shaking his head in disbelief.

"I'm not really sure I understand either. I was trapped in the Fade. I didn't need to eat or sleep and everything was… different. But the Fade reflects this world and I searched for a way out. Instead, I found a rather strange spirit who led me here. And then… I can't describe it. The Fade began to melt and shatter. I was able to break through."

"And I helped," said a voice, as another figure, wispy and ghostlike in appearance with white hair and a gaunt face came through.

"Cole?" Lavellan rushed to the bars.

"Yes. Me. And you are you, but also more now," he said, approaching the cell and looking at her in that peculiar way of his.

She wanted to cry in relief at seeing a friendly face. "What are you doing here? How did you find this place?"

He looked at her, confused. "It was time. Isn't that why you're here?"

She shook her head, silently cursing herself for trying to get a straight answer from Cole. "But is it really you? And really Hawke? Or is he like the Divine? A spirit or something else?"

Cole looked back over his shoulder. "He is him. He traveled too far after it was gone. The angry one wanted him to come back, but the hawk couldn't find the right ground in the sky. Pressed like mirrors, when the cracks came, it was time to come home."

She looked closer at him, trying to tell in the strange cracked light illuminating the cavern if it was really him. With the Divine, it had been so hard to tell, but this Hawke cast spells and he looked… older. Wearier. A few strands of silver hair shone amongst the dark black of his beard. "How did you find him? How did you find us?"

Cole tilted his head. "I looked."

"Listen, Cole. Can you get me out of here? Solas is in danger."

"I can try," he said, bending down and removing a leather pouch from his belt. He slipped a thin blade and tiny picks out, but when he tried slipping them into the mechanism, they melted and he dropped them. "Ow!"

Her heart fell when he tried again and the same thing happened.

"I'm sorry. The door makes them hot. I think it's an angry door. Magic makes it mean."

"That's okay, Cole. Maybe… Could you find Solas? You have to warn him, Morrigan is laying some kind of trap. You have to tell him to stay away."

A shadow fell across Cole's face and he shook his head under his large, wide-brimmed hat. "No. I'm sorry. Not anymore."

"What do you mean? Cole-"

"-He's not there. Not anymore. He's gone."

"Gone. No-Ah!" She grabbed the bars of her cell as another contraction cramped in her lower belly.

Noticing her distress, Hawke turned away from Fenris and came over. "Inquisitor? What's wrong? Oh." He pulled back in surprise when he saw her belly. Coughing to cover up his shock, he tapped the lock with his staff. "Well that's not good. Magical deadlock. Fenris, maybe you can-"

"No."

Hawke turned, surprised at the harsh edge and finality of his response. "Fenris, she's trapped and in distress. If the seal can't be broken with magic, perhaps your abilities could-"

"No. Leave her. We need to go."

Hawke stared at him, disbelieving what he was hearing. "We must try. If we do nothing-"

"It is too late for that. Only Vivienne and Morrigan have the keys to the cell. When the time comes, they'll release her then."

"He helped put me here," Lavellan said quietly, wiping the sweat from her brow.

The air grew thick and tense as Hawke turned back to Fenris. "Is that true? Fenris?"

But Fenris just balled his hands into fists and said nothing.

"It hurt too badly," Cole said from beneath his hat. "Anger, familiar fire burning in the belly, was the only way forward. Forgiveness was a rare gift. How could he learn to give it away when no one ever gave it to him. No one but Hawke. But then she took you too and you never came back."

Hawke looked to Fenris, a heavy sadness weighing upon his shoulders. Wordlessly, he crossed the distance between them and put a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, my love. I never meant to hurt you. But I had to go. Corypheus was my responsibility. I failed to stop him. I had to do my part. But that choice was my own. No one else is to blame."

Fenris could not raise his eyes to look at him, but his hand caught ahold of Hawke's breastplate, as if he needed something to hold onto to be certain the Hawke before him was real and not a cruel dream.

"But he needed someone to blame," Cole interjected in a soft whisper. "Blame the enemy and there is a way to end it. He needed a way out of being beaten, broken inside. He saw her in Kirkwall with Varric, pregnant and wed to her lost love. Why should she see her love returned to her when you were not? It wasn't fair. But few things are." And then Cole vanished and reappeared by Lavellan's cell. "He stole your letters. He was too angry at the time to regret it."

"That's good to know," she grumbled, putting a hand on her back to try and offset the pain radiating through her spine. "Now can you please find some way to get me out of here?" She swore loudly in elvish as a contraction started to come on.

"You don't need to be afraid. It doesn't have to end in death. Just because it was that way for you mother doesn't mean-"

"Cole, please!" she cried, rattling the bars as she struggled through the pain. Tears came to her eyes. All she wanted was for the pain to stop, to be anywhere else, to not be in labor here and now. Every fiber of her being was trying not to let panic or fear take over her mind, but all she could remember was the blood on the healer's hands when she came from the tent where her mother was dead. "Please. Find help. I need to get out of here." She reached through the bars and he took her hand, looking at it curiously.

"Alright. I will try to find help. But I will have to leave. And you will have to let me go."

She looked down at their clasped hands and then withdrew it, hesitating however briefly. All she wanted was a hand to hold through this.

A sudden groan came from behind Cole. Vivienne had returned and in front of her, Hawke fell to the ground, trapped in a static cage. Electricity riddled his body.

Fenris spun and leapt at her, howling in rage, but she sent out a blast of energy and froze him to the ground. "What's this? An escape attempt? How daring." Her gaze fell upon Cole and a familiar sneer pulled on her lip. "So the pet demon returns. I knew I should've killed you long ago." She sent blasts of ice spear straight at Cole and he dodged, darting away and vanishing from sight. "Nice try, demon. But you're not clever enough to defeat me." Spinning on her heel, she sent out a blast of energy and he flew back, crashing into a wall. Ice bound him where he lay, unconscious. "I know all of those little tricks of yours, demon." Stepping around Hawke and Fenris, she tapped her staff on the ground and sent two zaps of lightning through them both, knocking them out.

She stood in front of Lavellan's cage, placing a hand on her hip and giving a bored sigh. "Sad. Did you really think you'd be able to escape? Darling, remember who you're dealing with. Besides, you wouldn't want to risk anything that might hurt yourself or the baby, right? Not that you could. You were always a talentless hack at magic." She pulled out an engraved key from her belt and motioned for her to back up. "Back of the cell. Don't try to be a hero, darling. You're outmatched."

Putting a protective hand on her belly, Lavellan backed away from the cell door. The moment the door opened, she found herself frozen in another bubble. Vivenne's satisfied smirk made her blood boil as she was dragged from the cell and up out of the cavern. Along the way she saw more cracks spilling with light along the walls and even mid-air. "What's going on? Where are you taking me?" she demanded.

"It's time for your debut. We can't have you wasting all those wailing screams of your down in the dark, now can we? If you're going to sing, you had better have an audience."

They entered a grand hall, round and open to the night sky above where cracks of light shimmered and pulsed. Around the room, dozens of faces appeared. There were Dalish who glared as she went by, their eyes full of hate and disgust. She wondered if they had left their clans and reformed a new one after the alliance was created with Fen'Harel. Perhaps they were the same Dalish guerillas from the many attempts to sabotage Solas's efforts. A few human mages were there too; apostates and circle mages, as well as a woman with the same yellow eyes as Morrigan. They watched as Vivienne brought her into the center of the room. Chains bolted to the floor flew up and shackled Lavellan's wrists, pulling her roughly to the ground. She landed hard on her knees and grit her teeth. Another contraction started and she doubled over, trying not to cry out in pain.

"Please, don't hold back on our account," Morrigan said, waving her hand to include the onlookers. Her heeled boots clacked along the marble floor, echoing throughout the room. She tilted her head, amused by the circumstances. "Go on, howl to the moon. Perhaps it will call for the Dread Wolf. Though it should not be long now. The Fade is pushing through to our world as we speak."

Lavellan, panting, looked up at her in confusion. "You-You don't want to stop Solas from bringing down the Veil?"

"'Tis already struck down, my dear Inquisitor. Look around you. Can you not feel the two worlds, merging as one? No, there was never a way to stop the Veil from coming down. And why would I want such a thing? Magic is growing stronger already. Soon, magic will bless those who have never known its gifts. But for those of us who have known it our entire lives, we will be able to harness it like never before. Imagine the possibilities. All that power, all that knowledge, ripe for the taking." She smiled smugly, walking over to a pedestal where the red lyrium idol pulsed with power. Lavellan could feel its magic radiating like heat from a sprawling flame. Across the chamber an enormous eluvian stretched up towards the cracked sky above. Morrigan paused and looked back at her.

"Morrigan, you have the idol. And the power of the Well of Sorrows. Is that not enough?"

Morrigan raised her eyebrow and a strange smile came to her face. "You have no idea, do you? Did your true love not see fit to tell you? It was a deal he made with Mythal. In exchange for her power, he would make the sacrifice to bring down the Veil. Oh, I know about your attempts to find artifacts such as the idol instead, but did you really think you could save him? He told you himself, did he not? Fen'Harel walks the din'anshiral. The cracks in the sky are proof that he has become the Dread Wolf once more."

"But what do you want with it? Why take the idol? Why lure him into a trap? What could you possibly need all this power for?"

And then she saw in the movement of her expression, the subtlest curve of the lip and the stone-hearted coldness in the eyes. "Oh. I see. You are Mythal now."

The witch before her raised a brow in amusement. "Did you truly not know? Perhaps it was too much to assume you would have figured it out on your own. But yes. I am Mythal. When Fen'Harel claimed my power, I had already released my soul to its new host."

Lavellan recoiled. "But Morrigan never wanted to become Flemeth's host. What about Kieran?"

The cold detachment in her eyes was enough to solidify her theory. Morrigan had loved her son. She had offered herself to spare the boy when they had met Mythal together. That it would come to this meant… Morrigan was no longer Morrigan.

"The boy is safe. But he has served his purpose. I took the soul he carried and used it to restore my abilities. When the time came, I was prepared to move to a new host."

"You said the host had to be willing. But Morrigan… she never wanted this."

Mythal raised another amused eyebrow. "Didn't she? Morrigan drank from the Vir'abelasan. She bound herself to me when she did so. She gave herself willingly to the service of Mythal. And so she serves. As was her purpose," she said, admiring her hand like an Orelasian woman admires new gloves. "'Tis strange. Had another choice been made, it might've been you playing the role of host."

A spine-chilling dread seeped through her blood at the mere thought. It was true. Had she drunk from the Well of Sorrows in Morrigan's place, she might have incurred the curse of servitude that came with it. For all its power and knowledge, she was grateful, however selfishly, to have abstained from the lure of power.

Putting her hands on her belly, she resisted the urge to scream as the pain of another contraction came on.

"Though it seems you already play host to another. Perhaps it is fitting after all. Your child will act as the vessel to cleanse the soul of the Dread Wolf. Once he comes, the power of the idol will bind the Dread Wolf's will and once his host is slain, the taint will be removed as the soul passes to the child."

"If you so much as touch Solas or my child, I will kill you!" She thrashed against the chains, but when she tried to use magic nothing happened.

Mythal chuckled darkly at her pathetic state. Lavellan was in no position to threaten anyone. "Do you really think you will have any say in the matter? Be thankful. If it was not for your child, you would be the sacrifice for the ritual instead. Fenris was looking forward to that part."

"Fenris was trying to help her escape," Vivienne said with a demure saunter across the marble. "Along with a few others. But they will not be interfering further."

"I trust not. Excellent work, Madame de Fer."

Lavellan scowled at Vivienne, but kept her mouth shut. If Cole, Hawke, and Fenris were still breathing, she didn't want to do anything to jeopardize their fate.

A strange feeling like a shifting pop occurred and liquid spread in a puddle beneath her legs. The sight of her waters breaking sent her into a panic. The baby was coming. She was losing time.

Vivienne eyed Lavellan with the familiar distasteful glance, stepping back to avoid dirtying her shoes. "Do take care not to bleed all over the marble." Snapping her fingers, she banished the mess, turning her nose up in disgust.

Red insignias in a complex diagram all about the room began to glow. The figures on the red lyrium idol glowed as well.

"So it begins," Mythal said, a glimmer in her eyes. Mythal glanced at the eluvian, but it lay dormant.

The shadows within the room shifted and danced about the room in an unnatural manner. Leaping from the walls and ceiling, the shadows spread to the center of the room as if drawn by a cyclone, swirling about wildly. In the eye of the storm gathering before their eyes a figure began to take form: larger and greater than that of any human. The size rivaled the largest dragon Lavellan had ever seen. It's body shifted the light in the room, as if drawing in darkness like a blackhole. Gleaming red light crackled around the form as it stepped onto the ground. The creature of darkness was the same she had seen in the Fade, only all the more real as its six red eyes turned and looked into the very depths of her soul.

The power of the creature frightened the onlookers around the room. A few fled, but many others stared frozen in their fear. The hair on the back of Lavellan's neck stood on end as it looked at her with those burning red eyes. She pulled on the chains, but she was trapped on the floor before the creature like an offering.

Mythal raised her hand and the idol's glow strengthened, feeding the trap. Snakes of red magical energy wound their way around the creature. The creature's jaws parted and the Dread Wolf's voice shook the room in its rage, like a mountain giving way to an avalanche. "You dare try to bind me?" A terrible sound reminiscent of grinding rock came from the Dread Wolf like laughter. Despite the red coils of magic, the Dread Wolf stepped closer to Mythal, baring his teeth.

Mythal did not waver. She stood her ground, pouring magical energy into the idol. "You have served your purpose. Now it is time for another to take control of this new world. This age is over. You are finished."

The shadows rippled under the red lyrium as the Dread Wolf's hackles rose, yet still it stepped closer. "You are ancient. A relic of a lost age. I am eternal. I made this world. You are but dust within it." The Dread Wolf lunged, snapping its jaws at Mythal. Yellow eyes flared in shock before Mythal transformed into a blackbird and slipped by the Dread Wolf's attack at the last moment. She flew into the sky and the Dread Wolf whirled around and leapt for her. The bird disappeared against the black night sky overhead and the Dread Wolf's eyes watched, its ears lowered, ready to strike again. A shock of power flared through the idol and the Dread Wolf whirled back around to see Vivienne pouring her magic into the binding ritual in Mythal's stead.

"Bow down before your betters, demon," she snarled, raising her staff into the air. The crystal atop it glowed a bright blue as she siphoned magical energy from around the area. Other mages, fearful at first, now ran to join her, adding their own power to the idol to strengthen the trap. The diagram on the floor grew brighter as the idol flared with power.

The Dread Wolf's eyes flared in fury. "Demon? How little you know, ignorant human." All at once the shadows composing his monstrous form disappeared and instantly reformed on the other side of the room. It happened again and in that split second, Vivienne lost her focus. The Dread Wolf appeared, howling before her, a great and savage cacophony that knocked her back a dozen yards.

A contraction hit Lavellan and she clapped her hands over her mouth to stifle her scream as the Dread Wolf turned his gaze upon her. The bounds of the containment circle ended mere feet from her. If the Dread Wolf crossed it she was dead. Her chains rattled and the Dread Wolf stalked closer to her, his head tilting almost curiously before a deep rumble came from its chest. Baring its teeth, the Dread Wolf attacked, leaping forward, teeth ready to bite into her-but it didn't. The containment circle held against it and the Dread Wolf backed away as it siphoned off magical energy from his body. The red lyrium idol continued to flare with power, sustaining the trap and growing in strength as it pulled from the cracks in the sky above, widening them further.

The Dread Wolf turned its attention to the idol instead. With a massive swipe of one enormous paw, it shattered the ground, breaking part of the enchanted diagram and weakening the containment field. Lavellan's heart froze in her chest as the energy in the barrier faltered for a brief moment. Shouts came from behind her as Vivienne barked orders. "Reseal the barrier! Hold that demon back!" Venatori and other enchanters reinforced it before the Dread Wolf could escape. Though he tried to slip through, phasing in and out like smoke, searching for a weakness in the barrier. Finding none angered the Dread Wolf and it slashed deep gouges into the floor, severing more of the lines. But the enchanters were ready for it the second time, already repairing the damage before he could attack the weak points in another attempt to escape.

While the Dread Wolf's attention was drawn away, Lavellan tried to pull herself free from the chains. Another contraction hit and she cried out in pain. Her hand covered her mouth too late and she saw the Dread Wolf whirl around, its gaze drawn to her once more. Panic gripped her heart as it reappeared before her, slashing at the marble ground to destroy the markings keeping it bound. Its hungry eyes never left her as she pulled on the chains with all her might.

A fearsome screech came from overhead and a dragon dropped back down from above, crashing into the Dread Wolf. But the creature of shadow was not so easily pinned down, even by a dragon. It shifted and melted away, returning vicious attacks of its own. With the Dread Wolf locked in battle with the dragon, Vivienne took command of the idol once more, feeding energy into it and fueling the wild crackle of red lyrium.

At that moment the eluvian flared to life and several familiar faces emerged from it. Dorian was the first, but he was quickly followed by The Iron Bull, Sera, Zarrak, Blackwall, Cullen, and Abelas.

Vivienne sneered at the newcomers, sending a blast of ice magic straight at them.

The ice shattered in an explosion of snowflakes as Dorain twirled his staff overhead. "Now is that anyway to greet old friends?" Dorian said with a fiery gleam in his eye. Raising his hands above his head, he sent a tidal wave of flame at Vivienne and the enchanters around her, scattering them.

Cullen and Abelas ran to help Lavellan as Sera covered them, firing arrows at mages that exploded at their feet.

Kneeling by her side, Cullen inspected the chains binding her. "There's no keyhole. These shackles are magic-"

"-Move aside," Abelas said irritably, shoving Cullen out of the way. Using magic, his hands glowed as he held them out over the shackles. But it was no use. Whatever enchantments had been placed on the chains, he couldn't undo them in the necessary time.

"Well that didn't work," Cullen remarked pointedly.

Abelas's nostrils flared as he resisted the urge to backhand Cullen. Regretting his decision to allow the prisoner to come with them, he pulled the long red sword from his belt and raised it above his head. With a mighty blow he brought it down on the chain, severing it from the floor. Repeating the same action on the other side, he freed her.

Cullen put his arm around her and lifted her up. Catching her breath, she turned to Abelas. "There are three people down in that cavern," she said, pointing to the slender opening that led into the dark where she had been held in a cell. "They need help. We have to rescue them." She looked at Cullen. "It's Cole, Fenris, and Hawke."

Cullen blinked in shock. "Hawke? But Hawke is dead."

"No. He isn't. He escaped the Fade. He's alive. Or at least I hope so. Please, help them." She looked at Cullen pleadingly and he briefly exchanged a glance with Abelas, who glowered in response.

"Go. I'll take her." Abelas said gruffly, pulling her arm over his shoulder.

Cullen froze and his face grew pale. "Maker's breath," he swore. They turned to see what had drawn his attention. A pool of blood spread across the marble. Drops of blood left a trail back to Lavellan's feet where it trickled down her leg. A dark bloody rose stained the back of her dress.

"No," she whispered. Horrible memories flooded her mind and she shook her head as fresh panic set in. "No. No, no, no, no. Please, no…"

Abelas thrust the sword into Cullen's hands and picked Lavellan up in his arms. "Quickly! We have to get her somewhere safe and deliver the baby."

"Or what?!" Cullen asked in a terrified voice.

Abelas shot him a glare and hurried as quickly as he could towards the eluvian. A rogue Venatori shot spells at them and Cullen charged the man, running him through with the red lyrium blade. The eluvian was only a dozen meters away when the dragon crashed and rolled before them. Its massive tail flailed around and smashed the eluvian to pieces. Righting itself, the dragon rose, face to face not with the Dread Wolf whom it had been fighting, but with Abelas and Lavellan. Without his hands, Abelas was defenseless. But Lavellan was not. Throwing her arm out, she threw up a barrier shield right before the dragon opened its mouth and fire shot straight at them.

The Dread Wolf attacked the dragon, leaping onto its back and clamping its jaws around the dragon's neck. With the two beasts distracted, Abelas ran to a corner. Kneeling, he set Lavellan down as carefully as he could and put a hand to her stomach. Cullen appeared behind a moment after, blood coating the sword in his hand. "Is she okay? What was that?" he demanded.

"She's still bleeding," Abelas said, pulling a healing potion from his pocket and handing it to her. "Drink this," he ordered.

Lavellan obeyed, feeling a little less weak as the potion began to take effect.

"And that thing? Is that an archdemon?" Cullen asked, gesturing to the two beasts brawling within the containment circle.

"That's not an archdemon. That's Mythal."

Abelas's eyes widened and he turned to look back at the monstrous creature in shock and disbelief. But when he looked back at her, she could tell from the look in his eyes that he believed her. "It was Morrigan. But she's not herself. She's Mythal's new host. We didn't know what happened after Flemeth's death but now… I guess we do. We have to stop them. She wants to kill the Dread Wolf and take his power. She once told me she planned for a 'reckoning' of some kind. I have no idea what that means, but it can't be good. Abelas," she turned to him, his ashen face. "We have to stop her. We have to stop them both."

"Both of them? That's madness."

Lavellan grimaced in pain, digging her nails into Abelas's hand. "We have to."

Abelas's face grew grave as he looked back over his shoulder at the beasts battling for dominance. For millennia he had served at the temple of Mythal, watching over it and preserving the memories of her followers in the Vir'abelasan. It had been his sacred duty, his calling, his purpose, to serve and protect in the hope that one day the world might remember what had been lost and restore it again. He had clung to that hope as he had clung to his sorrow. He looked up into Lavellan's face, torn between his sense of duty as a former Sentinel and his responsibility as Commander to Fen'Harel forces. There was movement beneath his hand and his heart leapt in surprise. It came again as the baby kicked. That small motion stirred something in his heart he had been trying to repress: a memory and feelings too precious to share. Her child was real, as she was real, as was the current danger she was in. Cursing himself, he looked back over his shoulder and then at Cullen. "She's right. There is too much at stake."

"How? A dragon is one thing, but there's magic here that is beyond my comprehension." Cullen looked to both of them for ideas.

"That blade is our best weapon against the Dread Wolf and Mythal. Right now, the Dread Wolf is trapped by the containment circle, so long as it holds. Destroy the red lyrium idol and perhaps the Dread Wolf will manage to kill her himself." Abelas said.

"If we do that we risk the Dread Wolf escaping and attacking everyone! We have to kill it."

"No!" Lavellan cried, shaking her head vehemently. "You can't kill him. Solas is in there, please, don't," she begged. She looked into the eyes of her friend, pleading for him to understand. It would break her to lose him.

Cullen's brow furrowed and he caught Abelas's eye. Wordlessly, the two exchanged a look of understanding. Cullen was first and foremost, a military man. He understood that some sacrifices were necessary for the greater good. But he also knew that she would never understand that. Even if she never forgave him, he had to do what must be done.

Lavellan saw that hard edge in his eye. She knew what it meant. "No, please. Cullen, please don't kill him. There's a chance. I have the orb, if I can get close-" She winced in pain and Abelas put his hand to her stomach.

"You're not getting anywhere near that thing," Cullen said, pulling his shield off his back. And then, with a look of anguish, he hefted the red lyrium blade. "I'm sorry." Turning to Abelas, he nodded his head. "Take care of her." With that, he turned and charged into the fray, aiming for the circle of Venatori and rogue mages around the red lyrium idol. Behind them Dorian and Vivienne dueled with graceful ferocity. Spells shook the walls and shattered the floor where they hit and both sides gave them a healthy distance even in their own struggles.

Lavellan threw herself forward despite the pain and Abelas pinned her back to the ground. "No! Don't you understand? The baby's placenta has torn and you're bleeding internally. I've stopped some of the bleeding, but there's nothing more I can do. We have to get you someplace safe and deliver the baby now or-"

Her face drained of color. She knew what it meant. "Or we both could die. Abelas…" She could not help it, her eyes filled with tears. "I'm going to try something. If it doesn't work…" she paused, looking into his eyes. "I will need you to cut my baby from my belly."

He shook his head. "No! You'll bleed out. I only have one more healing potion."

She looked sadly up at him. "I know. Promise me you will do this."

For a moment he hesitated, torn between oaths. "I promised Fen'Harel I would keep you safe."

"I know. But you can't protect me from this. You might be able to save our child. Please, swear to me." Her hand gripped his, but even her grip was weak.

"I swear," Abelas said softly. Reaching to his waist, he pulled his dagger from his belt, ready.

Lavellan pulled the orb from her pocket and activated it in her bloodied hand. The blue light pulsed faster and faster as she brought it to her stomach. The pain in her belly eased and she collapsed back down to the floor, exhausted. "There. I think that's done it."

Abelas put his hand on her stomach. Taking his dagger, he cut a hole in her dress and checked the area for bruising that would indicate internal bleeding, but her skin was back to its normal color. He breathed a sigh of relief, but then sensed a contraction. "You're in labor. The baby is still on the way."

She panted, pushing herself up off the floor. "I know. But we have to stop this."

"You're in no condition to fight!" Abelas argued, putting his hand on her shoulder.

She smacked his hand away and heaved herself to her feet anyway. "That doesn't matter. Don't you understand what's happening here? There are countless lives at stake. If anything happens to me… It doesn't matter." She pushed past him, but his hand closed around her wrist and he pulled her back.

His eyes, always serious and stern, held a note of something else behind them as he looked at her. "It does matter. You matter to…" he stopped himself, pinching his lips shut for a moment. "You matter," he said instead, swallowing the words he had been about to say.

The intensity in his expression held her captive for a moment until a cry and a clatter broke the spell. Across the room, Cullen fell back, a jagged piece of ice embedded in his leg like a knife. He was knocked backwards by a pulse of energy from one of the mages, sending the blade spinning up into the air where it skid across the floor not twenty feet from them. Sera leapt to his defense, dropping a smoke bomb to hide from the enemies around her. Shielding herself, Lavellan scooped up the sword and turned, pressing it into Abelas's hand. She looked up at him and he knew from her determined expression what her choice was. And what he must do should she fail. "Please. Give me time." Though he understood her words and meaning, he could not find it in his heart to accept it. Never, in all of their history, had he obeyed her orders. But this was different. And they both knew it.

His brows drew together in concern. "I have sworn to protect you."

She looked at him sadly. "Ir abelas. May you find a new name," With that, she erected a barrier between them and dove into the fray.

Sera lay atop a heap of rubble with a broken ankle, her quiver empty, and her last few grenades clutched in her hands. "Come on, shitheads! Who wants it?!" she cried, spitting blood onto the floor and raising one of the grenades.

Drawing on the power of the orb, Lavellan froze the assailants solid, rushing to Sera's aid. She reached Sera and pulled down violet lightning from the cracks in the sky. The chain lightning shattered the frozen ice, zapping the individuals frozen within. They fell to the ground, no longer a concern as Lavellan focused her attention on Sera. The ankle mended easily with the aid of the orb's power.

"Andraste's tits, Inky. What the friggin' hell are you doing?! You're covered in blood!" she exclaimed when Lavellan bent down to help Cullen and Sera got a full view of the back of her dress.

"Yeah, well you're out of arrows. Go down into that cavern. You'll find Cole and some others. Hurry, we need their help!" She pointed at the opening in the rocky walls.

"No way! I'm not leaving you here unprotected."

"Sera, now!" Lavellan screamed. Something in her outburst must have frightened Sera because she danced on her spot for only a moment, torn between going and staying before she cursed and fled in the direction of the cavern.

"What are you doing?" Cullen asked as she turned her attention to him.

She ignored the look in his eye that spoke of heartbreak and despair, focusing on helping him instead. "Helping you."

Cullen bit his leather glove and grunted loudly in pain as she wrenched the jagged icicle from his leg. The healing effect was almost instantaneous. Cullen marveled at the effect: healing spells rarely took so little time or effort.

As she stood he grabbed her wrist. "Stop! You can't!"

Her wooden hand gripped his hand and pried it from her. "I have to."

A scream of pain came from behind her and before she knew what had happened she was already on her way towards it. The Iron Bull knelt upon the ground, clutching his bloodied arm to his chest. His severed hand lay on the marble ground at his feet as he howled.

In that moment Dorian heard Bull's cry and turned to look. Striking while his attention was drawn away, Vivienne cast an explosive spell that sent him flying backwards. But that was a mistake. Lavellan saw the moment and sent an icy spear straight at Vivienne. They had fought together for so long. She had admired Vivienne. She was always cool, calculating, and confident in her attacks whereas Lavellan was scrappy, chaotic, and probably more than a little lucky. But one thing about Vivienne was that she always frontloaded her barrier spells to protect for a frontal assault. And the icy spear cut through the side barrier, embedding itself above her hip. She cried out, staggering. Her hand went to her side and came away, bloody. Snarling in rage, she turned on Lavellan, unleashing a volley of icicles targeted straight for her. Lavellan put up a barrier just in the nick of time. With one hand on the ice embedded in her side, Vivienne sent several more vicious attacks at her, forcing her on the defensive as she reinforced her barrier spells. Then a wall of fire erupted from a crack in the ground at Vivienne's feet. She fell back with a high scream, beating back the flames as they clung to her clothes, crawling over her skin. She looked in horror as Dorian returned, launching a barrage of fireballs at her as she stumbled back. "Get to Bull!" Dorian cried to Lavellan, though he kept his gaze and focus locked on Vivienne.

Lavellan hurried to Iron Bull's side where Blackwall was busy defending him from a vicious Venatori with Cullen. Putting up a shield charm, Lavellan called to Blackwall. He turned and obeyed, leaving Cullen to press the Venatori on his own. "Hold him down!" she shouted. Bull's injuries were worse than she'd thought. His other arm had a deep laceration in it and part of the armor was dented and clearly cutting into his abdomen. Serious burns covered his shoulder and pectorals. And though he was usually a bit gray in appearance, his pallor was deathly pale from the blood loss. "Hold him down!" Lavellan ordered, wondering if she was already too late as she heard Bull's strained, raspy breath.

"Boss… Tell Dorian… Tell him I love him. Will you do that?" he coughed, spewing blood to the side.

"Tell him yourself," she hissed, biting back the pain as another contraction pressed down on her. Still, she pressed on with her healing spell, watching in horror and amazement as the hand she placed next to his stump reattached itself, rethreading the muscle and sinew right before her eyes before it disappeared beneath smooth skin. "Get the armor off him!"

Blackwall obeyed, cutting the leather straps and pulling it off from his chest, revealing the crush injuries from the dented plate.

Lavellan's heart sank as she saw the extent of the internal bleeding. But she did not lose hope. She held the orb above his wounds, focusing the healing and restorative powers over the damaged area. The bruising faded and Bull's shallow, stilted breathing became easier and less pained. It wasn't until Bull opened his eyes and Blackwall swore in a most colorful manner that she began to feel relieved.

"Where is he? Bull! Bull, are you alive? Speak to me," Dorian threw himself down on the ground beside Bull, tears and sweat streaming down his face. "Amatus. Amatus, please…" His hand touched Bull's forehead. "You can't do this to me! I'm only good at pretending to be a bachelor; you know how much I need you. Bull, please…"

Dorian covered his mouth as Bull's eyes slowly blinked open. And then to everyone's surprise, Dorian slapped him hard on the arm.

"Ow!" Iron Bull yelled, flinching at the sting. "Hey, what was that for?"

"For making me think you'd left me all alone in this shithole backend of Thedas, that's why!" Dorian snapped, putting both hands on either side of Bull's face and staring into his eyes. "You're not allowed to die! I forbid it! Do you hear me?"

Bull snorted and gripped both of Dorian's forearms in his hands. "Yes, kadan."

"I didn't even get to gloat over beating Vivienne, I was so worried about you! Did you see it? I think it was some of my best spellwork. Uck, you'll be the death of me." Dorian turned to Lavellan to thank her, only to find her doubled over, her knees spread wide, panting through the pain as another contraction hit her. "Kaffas. How bad is it? Forget that, we need to get you out of here." He reached for her, but she knocked his hands away.

"No! We have to stop them! Destroy the idol! But please, don't kill Solas. If he's still in there, if there's still a chance…" She looked up into Dorian's eyes, beseeching him.

But the look on Dorian's face was grave. He put a kind hand on her shoulder. "That chance is gone now."

The force of it hit her like a crushing blow. "No. No, there's always a way," she whispered.

Blackwall put his hand on her shoulder too. "I'm sorry. But that thing… whatever it is… it's not him."

She shook her head, refusing to believe it. "No. No, he told me before that it's like the Dread Wolf pulls him inside itself. The Dread Wolf takes control but… he's still there."

Cullen, sweaty and wiping at the speckles of blood on his face, knelt before her. The dead Venatori lay behind him. "If that's true, then he is trapped inside the body of a monster with no chance of escape. Killing him now… it is a mercy."

Lavellan seethed and her eyes stung as she looked at the pitying, hopeless faces of her friends. At that moment, Cole appeared, putting a hand on her back and whispering in her ear. "They are the same now as they once were. The beast inside, now released in truth, unbound, united once more, as he is undone. It is alright. He always knew it would end this way. He did not want you to be sad that it had to be this way. It always was."

Biting her lip to keep her chin from wobbling, she shook her head. She could not do it. She could not let him go. How could she fathom such a thing?"

Cullen looked at the others, his face grave and set in determination. With a nod, he signaled to the rest. "Go help. I'll stay with her."

They obeyed and sprinted off, giving her one final look as they engaged in battle with the few remaining rogue mages. Abelas still held the sword as he slaughtered a Venatori with a blow.

As the pain of her contraction faded she tried to push herself up, but Cullen put a firm hand on her upper arm. "No. I can't let you." He looked at her, his eyes filled with tender caring as he kept her where she was. "There's nothing more you can do. Your baby is coming. Please, don't try anything dangerous." He glanced back at the shattered eluvian. "There has to be another way out of here."

Lavellan's eyes flitted between the fighting and the eluvian as well when a thought struck her and she turned to Cullen, gripping his arm in turn. The gesture surprised him, and his gaze lingered on her eyes. "I have an idea. If I can get closer to the eluvian, I can use the orb to restore the eluvian and activate it. We could escape that way," she said eagerly, trying to convince him that this was a good plan.

Cullen surveyed the distance between them and the eluvian, picking out a circuitous route behind columns and rubble that might be safest. Still, once they got close to the eluvian they risked getting closer to the containment field, which was growing more and more unstable under the destruction of the battle and the power radiating off of the red lyrium idol. He looked back at her, uncertain if it was worth the risk to even attempt it.

"Please, Cullen. I can't have my baby here. I have to get back home."

Swallowing his nerves, he nodded. Still keeping ahold of her arm, he led her towards the eluvian. They made their way slowly, careful to avoid debris and fireballs as Mythal's dragon form viciously threw out attacks. When they finally reached the eluvian Cullen released his grip on her, pulling out his shield to defend against oncoming attacks while she performed her spell.

Touching her hand to the surface of the eluvian, Lavellan set to work. Pieces of golden mirrored glass rose from the ground and reformed seamlessly, melting back together until the final cracks disappeared.

"You've done it!" Cullen exclaimed in amazement. "I think Dorian had a way to open it. If only-Oh." He blinked in surprise as she activated it with the power of the orb. "Excellent. Let's get you to safety." He pressed a hand to her back, but she gave a groan of pain and grasped the side of the eluvian for support. "Hang on. We're almost there," he said, caught off guard as she braced her wooden hand against his chestplate.

She looked up at him then, an apologetic look in her eyes. "I'm sorry," she whispered. Before he could react, she pushed him through the eluvian and sealed it again, trapping him on the other side.

Praying that she had not just made a huge mistake, she moved away from the eluvian, staring at the chaos before her. Her friends were fighting the mages, but the red lyrium idol still rested upon its pedestal. There was no way for her to make it there without getting involved in the fighting. Dorian, Hawke, and Abelas were attacking Mythal and the Dread Wolf, though they kept a healthy distance, waiting for an opening to strike.

A contraction pressed in on her and she staggered to a nearby wall for support as the pressure in her lower belly increased in maddening discomfort.

The sounds of an explosion drew her attention back to the fight with Fen'Harel and Mythal. Dorian scattered explosive fire mines on the ground and they all went off as the Dread Wolf forced the dragon back over them. The dragon roared and whirled around. As Dorian and Hawke released a barrage of spells Zarrak leapt up in a spectacular move off a pile of rubble and a broken column, launching into the air and throwing his knife straight into the dragon's eye. It landed and the screech of the dragon's cry deafened their ears and rattled the very building. The beast roared and stomped about in blind rage, spattering dragon's blood on the walls and cracking the floor.

Fenris and Abelas darted forward, cutting the underside of the dragon's belly and legs. Barely avoiding the snap of the dragon's jaws, Abelas plunged the blade up into the dragon's chest. The dragon reared back and swiped a taloned claw at Abelas, sending him flying across the room. Blood spattered the wall and the sword clattered to the ground a few feet away from him.

Lavellan went to his side, panic gripping her heart as she neared his still form. Deep bloody gashes showed where the talons had torn through the metal armor. A pool of blood spread to the hem of her dress by her knees. It was too much blood. He was too still. She held the orb over his wounds, feeling for a pulse under his neck. She heard the click of ribs snapping back into place and he took in a deep, gasping breath that filled her with rushing relief. He looked at her with unfocused eyes.

Raising his hand, he touched her cheek and slid his hand back through her hair. He whispered something in ancient elvish that she didn't understand. She leaned closer, worried she had missed some pain or wound he was trying to tell her about when his fingers locked themselves in her hair and he pulled her to him, kissing her lips.

Baffled and bewildered, she pulled away, wrenching his hand from behind her head as he collapsed back down. But before he did, he whispered "ma vhenan" against her lips and then groaned in pain as his femur fused back together where it had shattered. He lay still, eyes shut, in a state of semi-consciousness.

Blinking away her confusion, she focused on healing him, although her free hand did keep a firm grip on his shoulder in case any additional moments of delusion came to pass.

His breathing grew steadier and his heart rate increased. When he opened his eyes again, he blinked several long, slow blinks. "What are you doing?" he asked. It would have been angrier had he more strength and less agonizing pain.

"Saving your life. Again. You seem to be making a habit of it," she grumbled.

"You should've gone through the eluvian," he said, his eyelids heavy.

She didn't say anything, but just then there was a tremendous roar behind her and the ground beneath them shook. The dragon fell to the ground and two glowing lights rose from the beast's body. The Dread Wolf snapped at them, enclosing the shining star-like lights in his mouth, snuffing out the light from them. The rest of the room grew darker and once again that hair-raising cackle rumbled in the Dread Wolf's chest, shaking the room. With the dragon dead, it turned its attention to the rest of the people in the room. She looked back at Abelas, terror written across her face. He was not yet fully healed. He met her gaze and gave a solemn nod. "Go. Take the blade." He pressed it into her hand, giving her one last, sorrowful look. "I'm sorry I could not do it."

"Don't die," she said, getting to her feet with a groan. "I'll be back to help you."

Helplessly, he watched her go, as the Dread Wolf rose upon his hind legs and pressed down upon the containment barrier. The invisible magical shell shattered and the Dread Wolf landed upon the ground, cracking the floor beneath him. Dorian and Hawke focused all their energies into their protective barriers around their companions. But the Wolf was not interested in them. Barreling past them, it stopped before the pedestal with the red lyrium idol and opened its fanged jaws wide. In one fell motion, it swallowed the idol.

And the Dread Wolf changed.

The red glow of its eyes, like embers, now blazed as if they were on fire. Red energy crackled around the Dread Wolf's body and now unbound by the containment circle, the very room around them shifted. Darkness spread as shadows overtook every surface, snuffing out the glowing lights and candles about the room. Even the Veil-cracked sky overhead darkened and the light of her friend's magic was cloaked in an impenetrable layer of shadow. When the Dread Wolf turned his gaze upon her, all she saw were those burning red eyes. She stepped back in fear and her foot landed in cold, icy snow. A chill spread down her spine as the entire reality around her slipped away and morphed into the cold, desolate forest she recalled from her nightmares. A sharp wind cut around her, blowing through her hair and dress, carrying away the fog of her breath. In the dark shadowy snowscape, the cruel red glow of the Dread Wolf's gaze fell upon her and the beast once again took form as it stepped out into the snow.

Her heart pounded in her chest. All the familiar Dalish sayings about the Dread Wolf ran through her mind as the beast melted out of the shadows. May the Dread Wolf never catch your scent. The wind caught her hair again and the Dread Wolf's nostrils flared, breathing her in. He had found her. She could run. Or try. Though she would not get far. Where was there to run to in this strange nightmare scene? In her dreams, she had never been able to run away from it. Or hide from it. All that was left to her was to fight.

A contraction hit her and she fell to her knees as the pain pulsed through her body. But she could not risk dropping the objects she clutched in her hands. The Dread Wolf stepped closer, baring his fangs and she knew he would strike. The objects in her hands weighed heavily. She would only have one chance to defend herself. Of that she was certain. As she looked into the Dread Wolf's eyes, holding the fate of the future upon her shoulders, she wondered if somewhere behind those flaming red embers was the man she once knew. A prayer escaped her lips as little more than a soft sigh of breath upon the wind.

"Var lath vir suledin, ma vhenan."

In the body of the Dread Wolf, Solas watched his love, fighting with the will of the Dread Wolf for control, but it was all for naught. The Dread Wolf, powerful beyond measure with the red lyrium idol's magic coursing throughout his body, was in complete control. All Solas could do was watch and feel his heart shatter as he saw her there, in pain and alone. Weapons were useless to her now. He wanted to scream to her, to tell her to run or hide, but it was useless. He could do nothing. There was nowhere she could go. Nowhere she could run. And it was all his fault.

"Yes," said the voice in his head, violent and terrifying like the crack of ice beneath a frozen lake. "It is your fault, Pride. You will be her death. Savor it. I will take my time. You will remember the taste of her blood and the sound of her screams. I promised you that."

He tried to beg, to plead with the Dread Wolf spirit, but he could not. He had no voice here. In this body, in this form, he was the Dread Wolf in truth. They were one and the same. He felt the jaws open, the rumble deep in his chest, and the eyes narrow. He knew what was about to happen and was powerless to stop it.

The Dread Wolf attacked.

One of the objects in her hands fell, disappearing into the snow.

She thrust her arm out as the Dread Wolf's jaws snapped down upon her arm. The glow of the object still clutched in her hand disappeared behind savage teeth.

But it was not blood that spewed forth. Shards and splinters of broken wood fell to the snow. She landed in the snow, panting and panicked, but still alive as the Dread Wolf bared down on her again, his eyes flaring in fury. But then something else began to happen. The color in the Dread Wolf's eyes began to melt and change. The blighted red melted away to soft, luminous golden hue, like the light of dawn.

What the Dread Wolf had not predicted was that the orb that had once held his own power would be his undoing. Unable to bring herself to do what she could not, Lavellan had chosen an act of faith in the final moment before the Dread Wolf struck. The sword lay at her feet, melting the snow around it.

The orb, once capable of boundless destruction, had been reforged by her own hand. All enchantments and spells woven in a time of grief and loss as she had healed herself in her own way. And with the help of her friend and the person she loved most, they had given this object of powerful restoration magic time to grow more powerful. It had mended the Veil itself. Though she could not have known the extent of the Dread Wolf's power, she had hoped, in desperation and a last act of faith in her beloved, that it would be enough to spark something. And like the blighted lyrium, the power of the orb had spread throughout the Dread Wolf's body. A chain reaction set off, as powers new and old remembered a time when they sang the same, before the songs had disappeared. So it was that corruption and damage of time that had driven the Dread Wolf's despair at the destruction of the world he had once made faded to a seed of hope. A seed was enough. It grew and spread and flashes of vision and memory collided in the Dread Wolf's mind of the world's cycles of destruction and renewal. But with it, combined with Solas once more, he saw and felt what it was to be a part of it again. To see the rise of the Inquisition, the fall at Haven and the rebirth of it at Skyhold. He saw it fall again, torn down by the hands that had built it. And the laughter of children rang out in a place that had not known such a sound for ages long since forgotten. He saw the tears in the Veil mended, felt the longing in a heart that beat and ached for the person he longed to return to.

A tiny pulse of life beneath a warm hand stirred something within him and he recalled a moment when she stood before him, in a snowy clearing like this, the same woman before him sharing that pulsing heartbeat. It echoed in his mind. His ears folded down and he shook his head, trying to rid his mind of the sound, but it wouldn't stop until a new sound cut in: a cry of pain.

He opened his eyes and there she was, clutching her stomach. Seeing her brought with it a whole new wave of memories marked by sorrow, regret, guilt, tenderness, love, joy, and happiness. The Dread Wolf stepped closer, feeling an impulse to help and comfort. The woman held up her hand protectively. Gently, he nudged the tip of his nose against the warm hand. Something inside him shifted and he felt himself melt and transform. His hand interlaced with the fingers of her own.

Once more, Fen'Harel returned to who he was; Solas and Dread Wolf: two sides of the same coin. "Remember her," Solas said to the Wolf, watching from his eyes with a silent introspection. "Remember why this world is worth saving."

The snow vanished and the shadows in the room receded. The light from the cracks in the Veil spread and melted, rippling in vibrant curtains of pink, green, and violet.

Lavellan clutched onto the hand with all her strength, her eyes pinched shut in pain. "I can't hold on any longer. I have to push." The urge was overwhelming.

Voices and footsteps came as her friends gathered around her. "Andraste's ass, she bleedin' did it," Sera said in disbelief.

"Boil my beard, I thought we were dead for certain," Blackwall said from behind her, touching his face to make sure it was real.

"Move!" Dorian shoved them both out of the way, kneeling by Lavellan's head. "Oh no. What's happening? Is she hurt? " Before she could answer, he held his hand over her body, checking for damage he could heal.

She raised her stump to shoo him away, but without the rest of the wooden arm, the shooing gesture was little more than an irritable wave.

"She's having the baby. It's time to push," Solas said. He kissed her hand and then moved between her legs.

"What? Here? Now? Friggin' no!" Sera balked, backing away and looking rather scared.

"Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Dorian, what do we do?" Iron Bull looked to Dorian, eyes wide in panic.

"How the bloody hell should I know? I specialized in necromancy, not… this. We don't even have any blankets or boiled water. Sera, find blankets. Bull, find a pot and some water. Wait! But I don't have any instruments-"

"-Dorian!"

He whirled around as Lavellan barked at him. "Yes. Right. What do you need?"

"Go help Abelas. He's still injured. Sera, go find something clean to use as a blanket. Zarrak, do you have bandages in your kit? Good. Cole, go over and help Fenris and Hawke. They'll need you more than I will. Bull, come sit behind me so I can use you as a brace. Solas-" She looked at him, biting her lip. "I have to push."

He held her gaze, knowing how scared she was. "It will all be well. I'm right here." He moved the hem of her dress up and her friends made themselves useful, running off to find something or running off to avoid having to watch.

Bull settled in behind her, offering her his hand. "Squeeze as hard as you need to. I can take it," he said. He would later come to regret those words, though he did not know it then.

Blackwall paced behind Bull, a fearful look in his eye as blood spread on the ground. Worried, he strode purposefully over to Solas. "I've helped birth horses. Is there anything I can-" He fell silent and the color drained from his face when he peered over Solas's shoulder. "Andraste forgive me," he murmured, swaying on his feet before he keeled over.

"I can see the head," Solas said. "On the next contraction, push."

Lavellan did, crying out. She threw her head back and clocked Bull square in the nose, making his eyes water. He howled in pain as her hand clamped down on his fingers, crushing them with surprising god-like strength for such a small elf. "Holy fuck!" he yelled, throwing in additional incomprehensible expletives he ground between his teeth.

"What?! What happened? Is she hurt? Are you hurt?" Dorian ran over, closely followed by Abelas. "What's happening-Oh, dear heavens," Dorian paled and clapped a hand over his mouth as his stomach turned over.

Abelas froze, staring at the whole scene before him in mystified disbelief. "She saved you," he said to Solas.

Solas glanced up briefly, a wry grin pulling at his lip. "Did you believe otherwise? I thought I told you not to doubt her."

"That's impossible," Abelas muttered.

"You'll find she does the impossible rather a lot," Dorian said, now standing behind Bull a safe distance away from the birth.

Abelas grew quiet, and still, watching silently as the tension built in the air around them.

Running up, Sera turned her head away, her eyes pinched closed as she put down a cloak she had dusted off as best she could.

Solas set it on his lap. "Almost there, vhenan. Just a little more."

She gave one final push and the baby was out. Collapsing back, she panted, heart hammering against her chest.

There was no cry.

"It's a girl!" Dorian said.

Lavelllan tried to decipher the expression on Solas's face. "Is she okay? Is she breathing?"

Solas did not answer. He focused on the child, his brows drawn together in concentration. Everyone looked on, hearts in their throats as Solas cleared the child's airway and rubbed its back. A soft cry pierced the air and they all breathed a collective sigh of relief. Lavellan let her head fall back in relief, closing her eyes.

"Solas-!"

He looked up from the face of his newborn to see Dorian's eyes wide with horror. The pool of blood on the ground was rapidly spreading. Dorian put a hand to her belly, trying to detect what was wrong.

"No. No. No. No. Her eyes are closed," Bull said, jostling her shoulder. "Wake up! Come on now, stay with us!" Her eyes opened briefly before her head lolled back against his shoulder and they shut again. "Someone get me a potion now!"

Blackwall pulled one from a pouch on his belt as the rest checked their pockets. Dorian brought it to her lips, but she could not stay conscious long enough to drink it.

"Abelas!" Solas turned to him and he slipped the baby as carefully as he could into his arms. "Bandages!" Solas shouted, as Zarrak quickly handed them over.

"She can't drink the potion!" Dorian cried in desperation, trying to trickle some of the potion down her throat.

"The placenta has been damaged," Solas said, fear coloring his voice, his bloodied hands glowing over her belly. He could not lose her. Not now.

Shoving the bottle of healing potion into Bull's hands, Dorian helped Solas by palpating her belly and healing where he could. The placenta came away, but that did not solve the problem even after the bleeding was stopped. "She's lost so much blood…" Dorian's voice trailed off as his eyes pricked and his chin began to wobble. "It's too much."

"The potion?" Solas heard his voice ask Dorian.

"She can't drink it. If we force it down, she could choke. And we need at least seven of them to replenish the blood she's lost…" Dorian looked at the single bottle and back to Lavellan helplessly.

"We're surrounded by dead mages. I bet one of these dead shits has a few up his sleeve," Sera said, a sudden tightness in her throat. "I'll look."

"Sera-" Dorian looked up at her, his voice soft. "I can barely feel a pulse. At this rate… It was already too much blood."

Sera scrunched her face and shook her head rapidly from side to side, stubbornly refusing to believe it. "No. No, she can't. She's got a baby..."

Pulling his hand away from Lavellan's chest, Dorian sniffed, biting his lip as he gave up trying to stop his chin from wobbling. "She's fading. Her heartbeat is slowing." And then, because he could not hold back any longer, he let his tears fall.

With his heart frozen in his throat, Solas reached up and touched his love's face. Her cheek was pale. His fingers felt for her pulse and it was already very faint. "No!" he gasped, touching her cheek, accidentally smearing her with blood. "Please, vhenan. Please. Stay." Tears cut down his cheeks and fell onto her neck. "Please," he begged, his voice barely more than a whisper. Collapsing, he sobbed against her neck. He had asked her to stay before and she had promised him she would. Through whatever storm lay ahead, she had vowed to stay by his side. She had just given birth to their baby. This was supposed to be the start of the next chapter in her life, not the end.

"Move," said a voice behind him.

Solas looked up into the scowling face of a dark-skinned elf, his face and neck covered in strange glowing markings.

"Move," the elf repeated in his gravelly voice. He did not repeat himself a third time, Grabbing the back of Solas's collar and ripping him away from her.

Solas watched in horror as the elf sunk his hand into Lavellan's chest. It passed through her skin like it was made of mist. "What are you doing?" he growled as anger flared in his chest.

"Keeping her alive," Fenris said, pumping her heart with his hand. He turned to Iron Bull. "Lean her head back and open her mouth. Pour a little of the potion in. Now stop." He rubbed her throat, triggering her reflex to swallow.

"He wants to help," Cole said, setting bottles down beside Fenris. "I found some more, but I'm not sure which is right. These bottles don't like one another," he said, pointing to two cylindrical ones.

"That's because they're poisonous when mixed," Zarrak said, snatching them away and tucking them safely into separate pockets.

Solas peered at the former Antivan Crow, suddenly quite thankful his love had allowed him to live.

"I'll find more!" Sera shouted, her voice higher than usual as she darted off to search the bodies. She came back a few minutes later, dumping several collected bottles beside them.

Zarrak carefully identified the ones that were healing potions, despite the different colors and bottles.

All the while, Fenris pumped her heart, keeping her blood flowing as Bull slowly trickled potions down her throat.

It was slow going and they watched with bated breath as her color slowly returned.

After the sixth potion Lavellan gave a small groan and opened her eyes, blinking slowly. Her eyelids felt as heavy as lead. Fenris removed his hand from her chest and she stared at him in surprise. The grim set of his jaw told her plainly that he had not done whatever he had out of affection for her. He stood and retreated to where Hawke stood, some several feet back, silent. But Fenris was pushed from her mind as soon as she saw Solas's face. Heartbreak was still etched on his face beneath his relief. His hand was warm against her cheek and she melted against it, sighing pleasantly. "What happened?" she asked weakly, her throat sore and strained.

"We lost you for a bit there," Bull said from behind her.

"But you stayed," Solas said, brushing her hair back from her face.

"Is everyone alright? Is anyone hurt or…?" She couldn't bring herself to finish her sentence.

"We're all still alive and kicking if that's what you mean. Thanks to you, boss," Bull said appreciatively, marveling at his hand.

"My baby?" she asked, remembering the pain she had been in before losing consciousness.

"She's here," Solas said, looking at Abelas, who knelt down and carefully laid the baby down on her chest. Bull gestured with his head and Solas took his place, seating himself behind her as she held the baby. He helped cradle their baby girl, knowing Lavellan was still weak, but the baby girl rested on her chest, peacefully cocooned in the cloak.

"It's a girl," she smiled, tears of happiness glistening in her eyes. "Aw, look at her. She's beautiful."

Solas kissed her head. "She's perfect. You brought her into this world, vhenan. I'm so proud of you."

"You helped," she said with a small grin. She grazed the baby girl's tiny cheek with her knuckle. "I can't believe she's here. And real. She looks just like you."

"Except for the hair," Sera commented, covering with a fake cough.

The baby girl did a have a light layer of hair that matched her mother's.

"She has your ears though," Solas replied, smiling down at their baby and touching one of her ears that poke out from the blanket. From the corner of his eye he noticed Abelas look away, undoubtedly regretting his comments questioning the child's sire.

"She's beautiful," Dorian said, holding a healing potion out under Lavellan's nose. "Little baby Dorianna it is."

Lavellan fixed him with an unamused look.

"No? Alright, well here, down this potion and then we can move to a lovely spot far, far away from here and talk about it over celebratory drinks. How does that sound? I can regale you all with details about my fight with Vivienne. If only Varric had been here. Ah, well, I'll give him the full account when I see him and he can write it up for his next book. It's going to be sensational. The mustached hero back in action," he said, twirling said mustache.

Her stomach sank. "She… Vivienne is… dead?"

The gravity of the statement and the look on her face, a mixture of regret and other confused emotions melted away the proud, boastful smile he wore. "Yes. She's dead."

Lavellan looked over in the direction of where she had last seen her, but the rubble blocked her view. "Could someone help me up?"

Several arms reached out to help support her as she handed the baby over to Solas and got carefully to her feet. Her ruined dress stuck to her skin as she stood, careful to avoid the sticky pool of blood. A queasiness rose in her stomach as she looked at the bloody mess. Solas put a hand on her shoulder and she tore her gaze away from the horrific scene as she braced herself for what was to come. Bull stayed on her left side and Blackwall stayed on her right; both were quick to offer a hand to help her over a pile of rubble or a crack in the floor. It felt almost comical as they clustered around her in worry, moving like a many-legged beetle.

She paused a few times when they came across a dead enemy she recognized. Two were human enchanters she had been introduced to years ago at a ball with Vivienne. Three were Sentinels from the Temple of Mythal and of those three, she recognized one who used to recite prayers in the evening on their way to Arlathvhen. Over a dozen were Dalish with the vallaslin for Mythal marked on their face. She wondered if they were there of their own volition or if they had been compelled to join and obey Mythal's orders. When she asked Solas, he told her he could not be certain one way or the other. These losses felt even more like personal failings, pressing upon her with a weight she already carried in her heart. She had tried so hard to make her people understand what the vallaslin really was and who Mythal had truly been, but in the end it didn't matter to the Dalish now dead. Whether for culture, beliefs, or magical coercion, they had served and lost their lives because of it. Many of the faces she did not recognize at all, but a part of her knew she would carry the weight of their deaths nonetheless.

Dorian led them to Vivienne's body. Her body lay upon the marble, one hand extended out towards her staff, which was only a few feet away, its crystal's light extinguished. Unseeing eyes looked up into the heavens overhead, reflecting the colorful ripples of light from the Fade in the dark irises. A large shard of ice stuck out from her side where Lavellan had hit her, but the killing blow had come from a lightning spell that struck her shoulder, leaving a burn that forked chaotically out from the point it hit.

Lavellan bent down, uncertain about how she felt. For so long Vivienne was someone she had put her faith in. They had never been close, diverging too much on their theological perspectives and backgrounds to understand one another's perspective, but they had been companions on several difficult journeys. She had always respected Vivienne as a person molded by circumstances who rose to power with skill, cunning, and determination. And secretly, in many ways, she had often wished to be more like her: effortlessly graceful, witty and empowered, confident and self-assured, and highly knowledgeable in many areas of magic. She had saved her life in a fight once and now, to have her as one of the enemies she was forced to fight against, she didn't know how to feel with her loss. Vivienne had betrayed her and died fighting enemies who used to consider her a friend.

All of the anger at her betrayal and the sorrow at having lost a friend compounded together in her gut in twisting knots until she didn't know what she felt. Kneeling beside her, she passed her hand over Vivienne's eyes, closing her eyelids in a gesture of respect.

"I hope you find your peace," she said gently, feeling that a Dalish prayer would be improper in such a case.

"Or burn in hell for betraying your friends," Sera said with a waspish edge to her voice. When the others gave her disapproving looks, Sera shrugged them off. "What? She was a bitch and we all know it. I'm not gonna feel bad about her bein' dead jus' 'cause she used to pretend to be on our side."

"She was on our side," Blackwall insisted, his face grave. "She was a hard woman in a world that made her that way. But things change. People change. It doesn't mean we can't mourn the past version of her that used to be our friend."

"Well the new version tried to drive an ice spear into my beautiful face, so forgive me for not being too upset she's no longer with us," Dorian replied sourly, folding his arms.

"You can regale us all with the tale of your epic battle back at Skyhold," Zarrak said, glancing hopefully over at the eluvian.

"Yeah, but first, I need to… um… grab a few things," Iron Bull said evasively, gesturing with his thumb.

"Are we looting things off the mages? I already got the gold from those ones over there," Sera said, nodding her head at the corpses she had raided for potions and other such items earlier.

"We'll send our people to collect the b-" Lavellan said, but then Bull let out a cry of shock and they all turned to look.

The body of the dragon had vanished. They hurried over to where the beast's body had been only to find Morrigan's body, returned to her human form once more.

"Is she… really dead?" Dorian asked nervously, keeping a healthy distance.

"She is. Morrigan was likely trapped as Mythal's vessel, the same as I was to the Dread Wolf. The essence of Mythal left her body when it could no longer survive and serve her purposes. I'm afraid Morrigan was sacrificed, though whether unwittingly or not, I cannot say."

Dorian eyed him warily. "And what about you? We all saw the furry friend of yours snap at the magical anomaly and gobble it up. How do we know you are not the new host for the essence of Mythal?"

It grew quiet and still around the circle as they all looked at Solas in fear, fingers itched towards their weapons.

Solas raised an eyebrow. "If that were true, do you really think you would be alive right now?"

"Probably not," Dorian conceded, though the wariness did not leave his eyes. "Still, what are you now? Is your furry friend going to rear his ugly head the moment my back is turned? Are you blighted from touching that red lyrium statue? Are you going to go mad and rip us to shreds?"

"Again, if that were the case, you would likely be dead. You observed the Dread Wolf in your fight. Did you not notice the ineffectiveness of your spells? The Dread Wolf keeps that which he consumes. All the magical energy of the objects and the souls is used to strengthen his power. As to the effects of the red lyrium, I don't believe so." He turned to Lavellan and a heartfelt smile he reserved only for her pulled at his lips. "Your enchantments changed the very nature of the idol. And that of the Wolf's spirit as well," he said, taking her hand and running his thumb over it affectionately.

A part of Lavellan was glad to hear it, for all her theory and hope the final act itself had been one of faith. The other part felt indignant that she had not been allowed to try influencing the idol before when Abelas had caught her attempting to sneak down to the dungeons. Perhaps if he had, much of this could have been avoided. Then again, perhaps not. Mythal might have abused its powers anyway.

Hoping or wishing things had been different did not make it so. No matter how she wished she could have changed her actions, countless people, including her father, Vivienne, and Morrigan might have lived.

All this time, she had thought Morrigan had been the one to attack her. Though she did not know the reason, she had blamed her. But now, knowing the truth, she pitied her. She had drunk from the Well of Sorrows and taken its power, but at a terrible price, binding herself to an ancient being who used her and in the end, sacrificed her like a pawn without remorse.

Lavellan turned away, finding it hard to look at her body and the terrible fate that had befallen her. If things had gone differently, if she had drunk from the Vir'abelasan instead of Morrigan, she might have ended up as Mythal's vessel.

"She has a child," she whispered to Solas. "Kieran. We should try to find him. I'll have Leliana send word to his father. He should be with family. If he doesn't want that, he can come to Skyhold."

Wordlessly, she raised a finger to her daughter's face, still in a state of disbelief that she was finally here, in the world with them. Gently, she brought her lips down and kissed her tiny forehead. Then she looked up into the eyes of the man she loved, eternally grateful that they had both made it through. "Are you still you?" she asked. "Are you still the person I fell in love with?"

He smiled at her and their child. "No, vhenan. I'm more than I ever was because of you. And now I'm a father too." He looked at her, this wonderful woman who had changed everything and saved him in more ways than she could ever know, and thanked fate that she had come into his life.

"Perhaps it is time we leave this place," Hawke said, drawing everyone's attention. Glancing to his left at Fenris, a smile touched his lips. "I for one would like nothing more than to return home." With that, he interlaced his fingers with Fenris's alongside a red ribbon, beaming at him. A moment of still silence passed and he looked between them all as if expecting someone to say something. "Well? I haven't got a clue how to leave. I came through the Fade with him," he said, gesturing to Cole.

"Yes, please," said Dorian, leading the way to the eluvian. "I need a warm meal, some whiskey, and a hot bath with-Bull! What are you doing?" Dorian snapped.

The Iron Bull jogged back over, the red lyrium blade in hand. "What? Didn't want to leave this behind. Here," he pressed the blade into Abelas's hands. "You were pretty good with that. I like the way you handle a sword against a dragon," he added, wiggling his brow. Abelas scrunched his brow and frowned at the Qunari, but he said nothing.

As they approached the eluvian, Abelas grabbed his sleeve and whispered something to him. Solas looked back at Fenris and shook his head, which seemed to clear the matter.

Dorian gave Bull a glare as he activated the eluvian with the crystal Solas gave him. Bull passed through, offering a wink in return.

Solas paused briefly, turning back to look over his shoulder, taking one last look at the place he thought he would meet his end. Instead, he stepped through the eluvian, his newborn daughter in his arms, with a newfound hope.