Chapter Three: Secrets
Solas watched over the sleeping form of the recently declared Herald of Andraste. She had been placed in his cabin at his insistence because he did not trust any of the human healers to properly tend to her. Some of them had wandering hands and she had been through enough already.
His initial encounter with the Dalish elf had not gone as he expected. She came charging into battle, a mage wielding a greatsword, and intercepted an attack meant for him. Then there was the Anchor, he tried to feed his magic into it to grant her the ability to connect to the rift to seal it, but it had rejected his magic. For some reason, it assimilated her magic instead which changed the coloring to show which magic it now obeyed.
She asked a ridiculous question just to get him to laugh and he remembered how she smiled at him, making him forget his surroundings temporarily. When she stepped into him, he hadn't meant to embrace her, but to balance her. His body refused to cooperate with him, then she said that he was handsome and he wanted to preen with pride and smugness.
He had been taken off guard when she kissed him and the surge of desire that rushed through his veins made him forget the world. In that moment, all he wanted was to completely and utterly ravish her. He wanted her to scream out his name in sweet ecstasy as he claimed her for himself. He was quite angry when she was torn from his grasp.
He was not expecting the seeker to act in such a violent manner, but what surprised him even more was the elf's display of magical control, causing the sword to heat up to make the dark haired woman relinquish her grip on the blade. The way she fussed over him was quite endearing, to be so concerned for a man that had taken advantage of her playful kiss to sate his own desires.
He honestly felt like he had made a fool of himself, by asking to get to know her after the Breach was closed. It was not his finest moment. Certainly he was better than this in his youth, perhaps he was simply rusty. Then she surprised him yet again with her wrist bands. She had collected items and stored them somewhere, but he had no time to pepper her with questions about such an ingenious feat of engineering.
Then the silly thing slipped on the ice and he caught her before she could do a rather uncomfortable split. He did have an ulterior motive when he pulled her towards him and that was because he wanted to have her in his arms again. Having that woman in his arms felt completely right like she was always meant to be there. He was pleased to see her blush upon realizing their current position. He stopped himself from growling in disapproval when she left his embrace.
He really needed to stop whatever this was from going any further. He walked a path that led straight to death for himself, for the Evanuris, and for this current world state, yet he could not stop himself from yearning to be with the woman. Why did she have to be a Dalish elf? The Dalish were set in their ways and denied the truth of their history, yet Artz did not act like the Dalish elves he had met.
The way she took command in the forward camp was inspiring and even he had been surprised when the chantry sister called her Warden Commander. He had wondered what it could mean because the snowy elf was not a Grey Warden, her body did not possess the taint, so how was she in any way a Warden Commander?
It mattered little as they began their climb up the mountain. He heard her whisper about how she must be the Hero of Ferelden and he didn't know why he spoke to her, but he offered to share the burden with her. When she revealed that she was once a human, woke up with magic, was from parallel reality, was fighting a war she didn't want to be in and that she was confused, scared and alone, something inside him gave way.
He felt it the moment it happened, a shift in purpose. There was no going back now. The drive to protect her and comfort her was now his primary goal. A part of him tried to argue that the People still needed him, that he was the only one that could restore what had been lost, but given all the evidence of where his choices have led them thus far, he had no right to continue altering this world state.
Just because he had power did not give him the right to play god with these people's lives. He was not like his brethren, the Evanuris, he refused to become like them. Forgive him, Mythal, but he could no longer aid the People. He would focus on this emotionally overloaded woman that kept fighting, kept helping, and never stopped caring.
She cared for the spirits the same as she did for everyone else. She aided the ones that one wished to return home. Her first instinct was to help those right in front of her. Her caring nature demanded that she protect and mend. Her healing magic was incredible and he had never seen its equal, not even in ancient times before the existence of the Veil. She healed the fatally wounded soldier and healed all of them as well.
He was becoming quite worried because she was physically exhausted. Her mana reserves were just fine, only the slightest decrease over all. She was quite good in modulating her magic to power her spells without over drawing on her reserves, but her physical energy was dangerously low. Her body was not accustomed to so much physical exertion which seemed to be contradictory to her being the Hero of Ferelden.
Surely fighting against a horde of darkspawn and a corrupted old god was more physically taxing than the events of the day. It was almost as if she had a new body like her spirit had been transplanted in a new form. Was it possible for such a thing to occur? She was the Hero of Ferelden yet she was not a Grey Warden. He would need to speak to his friend, Wisdom to see if such a thing was even feasible yet alone doable.
If so, what was the purpose of doing such a thing to her? He was curious about how she had such command of the elven language, not the butchered version of the Dalish but the true language of the Elvhen. So much about her wasn't making sense, she was literally a walking, talking contradiction and it was utterly fascinating. How did such a creature come into being?
He had little time to think about the many things swirling around his head because Artz had just opened a secondary rift to allow the pride demon to return to the Fade. She closed it, only to sag in his arms. She was becoming delirious from the lack of physical energy, but they still needed to stabilize the Breach.
He attempted to fuel the Anchor again, but it rebelled against him. He was trying very hard to ignore the woman screaming in his arms. He was the one causing her pain, but she did not have the strength to connect to the rift. He felt a shift inside her body as she started to convert his magical energy into her own magical energy. The Anchor accepted the magic though it was clear that it didn't want to.
It connected to the rift and an explosion of energy soared through the sky and collided with the Breach, shrinking it by a third and creating a thin barrier across the gaping void to prevent anything else from coming through. The snowy haired elf collapsed into his arms completely and he lifted her up bridal style. She was out cold and he doubted that she would wake any time soon.
He had fought with the healers about her care. Their archaic methods would do nothing but injure her further and he almost used his magic to freeze a man solid when he had slid his hands across the woman's body under the guise of a physical examination but was, in reality, groping the defenseless elf. Before the first day was through, he moved her to his cabin and barred the door, placing several wards to keep out intruders.
It had been another four days before she finally began to stir. She was initially confused, trying to figure out where she was. He sat down on the bed beside her, cupping her cheek. Her vibrant blue eyes were mesmerizing and before he could stop himself, he leaned forward and kissed her. She melted into him easily, allowing him to lead. He deepened the kiss, bringing his other hand to lace into the silky white strands of her hair.
He nipped her bottom lip, causing her to gasp in response and he used that moment to plunge his tongue inside her mouth. She grunted in pleasure as her hands tried to find some way to hold onto him. He shifted so that he had a leg on either side of her and used his left hand to gather her wrists to pin them above her head. He went back to kissing her as he pleased, moving down to kiss her neck. He nipped at the pulse point, loving how her pulse picked up speed.
He moved back to kiss her lips once more, releasing her hands so that he could shift the blanket away from the rest of her body. He moved down and began loosening her clothes until her chest laid bare before him. He was feeling rather playful so instead of simply touching her breasts, he immediately pinched the nipples and hard too. She arched up into him and he smirked, repeating the action.
She was whining about how he was wearing too many clothes and he nipped at her neck again.
"My clothes will remain, yours will not. I will take you while fully clothed so that you know that you are mine. Your body is mine to play with, to do as I see fit. You will yield to me, you are mine to control, you are mine." He growled, removing the rest of her clothes.
She was completely exposed to his hungry eyes, soaking up every inch of pale flesh. He allowed his hands to roam her body, his grip firm and demanding. He gripped her breasts tightly, making her whimper before he descended upon her breasts to bite her nipples. She squirmed with desire, panting in need. She was enjoying his actions. She wished to be dominated by him, so that was exactly what he was going to do.
He got off of her long enough to flip her onto her stomach. He took off his jawbone necklace and used it to tie her wrists behind her back. He moved down and forcibly pulled apart her legs, raising her up so that he could attack her womanhood with his tongue. She cried out in pleasure, all sorts of naughty sounds exiting her mouth. He made her come easily, but refused to stop, no matter how much she begged.
Again and again she came until he could wait no longer. He unlaced his breeches in such a way where his member could fit through the laces but his breeches stayed in place. He meant what he said about staying fully clothed, driving home the fact that she was completely at his mercy. He slid the tip of his dick along the folds of her womanhood and she whimpered in anticipation.
He smirked as he simply nudged her entrance and she started crying, pleading for him to take her already. Take her he would and he would do so as he wished to. A gentle nudge to slip the head in and then he slammed completely inside her, making her shout in alarm. He did not allow her to acclimate to his length and size, choosing instead to pound into her as he pleased.
He was not gentle, he was not kind, and he fucked her like she was his bitch. He used her body to please himself, slapping her ass when she begged for him to slow down. He yanked her upwards and assaulted her breasts harshly, commanding her to fuck his dick hard and fast. Every time she tried to slow down, he would pinch her nipples hard and she would pick up pace. He was thoroughly enjoying her bend to his every whim.
He pulled out of her, flipped her over, and shoved back inside of her. He grabbed her by her hair and forced her to bend forward, to watch as he fucked her as he pleased. She came hard, her walls tightening around his member, but he was not done with her. He released her hair and took her hips in his hands so that he could slam straight to her core. She came again, but he was still rock hard.
She begged him to stop saying that she couldn't take anymore, but he refused to listen. He flipped her back over, grabbing her tied hands and using them to balance himself as he continued to pump inside her. She was constantly crying now, begging him to stop, but he was going to make it clear that she was his. He grabbed her neck and yanked her up to whisper in her ear.
"You are mine, bitch. I will stop when I am sated and not before. Your body will serve as the instrument of my pleasure. Accept it, da'ise, and I will take you to the highest pinnacle of ecstasy. So come now." He ordered and she came as he commanded.
He went back to brutalizing her cunt. He wasn't sure how long he spent using her body for his own sexual pleasure, but when he finally came, it was so powerful that he collapsed out cold. When he awoke, he frowned because his jawbone necklace was around his neck once more and Artz was still fully clothed and asleep. He groaned in frustration as he realized what had happened.
He had been in the Fade, his unresolved sexual tension for the elf occupying his bed had summoned a spirit of lust. He used the spirit to sate himself, the evidence of that was within his breeches. He clicked his tongue in annoyance as he rose from his chair to go into the small adjoining room where a bathtub awaited. He used magic to fill it with frost before melting it into water, placing a heating glyph on the side to keep it warm.
He stripped out of his soiled clothing and stepped into the bath, sinking himself below the water. He attempted to clean himself, but his member was rather sensitive from such a powerful climax and he decided to just soak in the bath for a while. He needed to figure out how he was going to handle things going forward with the Herald.
He simply couldn't keep using the spirits to contend with his overwhelming desire for the enigmatic woman. It was one thing to share kisses with her, she seemed rather open to his physical affection, but sex was completely out of the question. She had only just met him, moreover she was lost, scared and confused. He could not in good conscience take advantage of her while she was in such a state.
Admittedly in his youth, he was not so morally conscious as he was now. The war with the Evanuris had made him face many harsh truths about himself and his actions. When he was young, he was hot blooded and cocky. He had no qualms using his body to essentially cheer up a distraught female that he had been wanting to bed. He even engineered scenarios to force the more stubborn women and men into emotionally compromising situations just so that he could bed them.
Looking back, he hated what he had become. At times, he was no better than the Evanuris. He had changed so much since then while they continued in their wicked ways. He tried to become better to help the People and look at what he had wrought. Yes, the Evanuris were gone, sealed away within Eluvians, but the Fade was becoming twisted and warped by the Veil that he created as a last defense against his brethren.
Now there was his idiocy with his foci. He was responsible for the Breach's creation and all the lives lost in its wake were his fault, their blood was on his hands. He joined the chantry forces in the hopes of retrieving his orb from the temple, but it was nowhere to be found. Then he met an impossible woman that brought out instincts in him that he didn't even know existed.
He really needed to speak to Wisdom, but he dared not to summon her while still so close to the Breach. He could not risk her becoming corrupted, her purpose perverted like all the other spirits forced into Thedas from the Fade. So many spirits have been harmed by the rifts and so many more were going to be hurt before all was said and done…and it was his fault.
What would she say if she knew who he truly was, what his part in this truly was, that he was responsible for every tear she shed from here to the Temple of Sacred Ashes, that all the pain and exhaustion and trauma she had experienced was all because he gave his foci to a darkspawn magister to unlock, that he was the reason why she must now carry the burden to fix his mistakes…no, she could never know.
She would never forgive him. She would hate him and blame him for everything. She was well within her right to do so, but the mere thought of her looking at him with hate filled eyes, it would destroy him. Fenedhis lasa! Why did he feel this way? Why did she have to change him in this way? Before he had a clarity of purpose, now he was a mess of emotions with no distinct path in sight. She was lost and confused and now so was he.
Artz awoke slowly, blinking slowly to adjust to the light. The last thing she remembered was Solas trying to pump magic into the Anchor so they could stabilize the Breach. Everything went dark after that. She sat up so slowly, frowning. This room seemed different from the one that the Herald of Andraste originally woke up in. If anything, the layout kind of reminded her of Solas's cabin from the game.
Of course, she should have known that the Dread Wolf would see to her care personally and not just because of the Anchor. His behavior during that whole debacle pointed in the direction of him actually caring about her as an actual person, maybe even as more than friends. Though to be fair, she wasn't entirely certain on that last bit, but she held hope that it was true. Being in his arms, kissing him when she pleased and him actually reciprocating, all of it felt right.
She did have to back up a bit in her thought processes. Leliana had specifically mentioned her romancing a certain Warden and Varric mentioned Fenris specifically as well. It was possible that she had been romantically involved with those two at some point and Leliana did say that it wasn't the first time that she had lost her memories.
Did she truly have the right to attempt anything with the ancient Elvhen? The more she thought about it, the more she realized that the only person that she needed to remain true to was herself. She felt bad for Alistair and Fenris, truly she did, but she couldn't torture herself with what she could not change. No, Solas needed her and she honestly believed that she needed him too.
The sound of gently splashing water drew her attention to the other side of the cabin. She rose quietly and tiptoed across the room, her curiosity getting the better of her. She peeked past the privacy curtain and she felt her cheeks warm. There was Solas in all his Elvhen glory, naked as a jaybird. Damn that guy was ripped, so many muscles…yum.
Fortunately, she was in the right position to slip inside without him noticing. She knelt down behind him and placed her hands on his shoulders. He started but didn't fully jump. He stayed in position, no doubt curious as to what she would do next. She decided to give him a neck and shoulder massage, working the tension out of his form. She felt a blast of pride when he groaned in pleasure, so she continued her ministrations.
"If you keep this up, da'ise, I will have to exit this bath and do some rather naughty things to you." He growled playfully.
Yes please, may the Dread Wolf take me, please.
"Then by all means, take me, Dread Wolf." She replied, knowing full well that this was probably the worst time to do this.
There was a moment of silence as he took in a shaky breath.
"So you know then." He stated softly.
"You were Solas first, Fen'harel came later. An insult you wore as a badge of pride. You sealed away the Evanuris into the Eluvians and erected the Veil. You fell into Uthenera to recover your strength. You awoke a year ago and allowed the agents of a darkspawn magister named Corypheus to locate your orb. He was to die while opening it.
You did not expect the Breach to occur nor did you expect for your foci to be missing from the temple. The reason why you could not find it is because Corypheus is still alive. He has discovered the secret for perpetual immortality, a part of his essence is sealed in a corrupted dragon. So long as the dragon exists, so too will Corypheus. Destroy the dragon and Corypheus will be vulnerable for a brief span of time, long enough to destroy him permanently." She revealed, not pulling any punches.
"You knew all this yet still chose to kiss me, to trust me…why?" He questioned, his voice sounding pained.
She wrapped her arms around him in a hug, his hands coming up to touch them.
"I'm going to quote a favorite character of mine. Do you honestly believe that I care for you so little that betraying me would make any difference? In my world, there is a story and you're one of the characters. In that particular story, you are my absolute favorite character, my go to mage for my traveling party which is saying a lot considering my second favorite character is Dorian who is also a mage.
You were also my go to romance option. Even though you would always leave my character, breaking her heart. Then show up two years later to help her stop a Qunari invasion, you tell her about being the Dread Wolf and a brief summary of your plans and what happened with the Evanuris and the creation of the Veil. You then use magic to essentially maim her, removing the arm with the Anchor in order to save her life." She explained, pressing her head against his,
"I can't really explain why I don't hate you, why I'm not angry and I should be. I can't explain why I trust you, I just do and that wherever you go, I will always follow. I know you walk the path of death and I know that you would never allow me to walk it with you, but when you leave me behind, I will find you. I will not abandon you, Solas. You go to your death, and I will make damn sure that you don't die alone."
She was not prepared for the sudden movement and ended up getting her arms soaked, but in the next moment, she had a very naked Solas on top of her with his lips planted firmly on hers. He was kissing her so passionately that she could barely breathe. She could feel him reaching for her vest, attempting to unbutton it when her stomach growled very loudly, demanding to be appeased. She blushed scarlet in embarrassment and the ancient Elvhen started laughing.
She reveled in the sound of his laughter, though her blush did deepen. Not because of embarrassment, but due to her eyes catching a glimpse of a very erect member that was inches away from being pressed into her pants. Solas noticed her inattention, glancing down briefly at his state of undress before their eyes met again. He smirked before pressing briefly in between her legs and she hissed at the contact, feeling the throbbing organ pulse against her very sensitive womanly parts.
"I must admit that I have never before reacted to anyone as I do with you. You change everything, ma'avise. I do not know if that is a good thing either, but should you wish it, I would court you. You have changed me in ways I never thought possible. I no longer know what the future holds for me, but if you will have me, I wish to try." He admitted, declaring his intent to essentially marry her.
"If this is a dream then don't wake me up, because I want to be with you. As irrational as that is and with how little time we've actually known each other, what I feel for you… it feels right like I've been waiting my whole life and just for you. I don't know what this is, but I want to try." She accepted, honestly wondering what had gotten into her.
This, none of this, should be possible. His words, his actions, everything was new and different and exciting and terrifying and she honestly couldn't be happier. He was so different from the Solas she knew, but hey, that was reality for you. Her stomach growled again, eliciting another laugh from the ancient Elvhen and a brief kiss to her lips before rising to put some clothes on. She would admit to staring because damn that was a ridiculously nice ass.
He gathered a fresh set of clothes and glanced her way, seeing her staring right at him. He smirked slightly, deliberately taking his time to get dressed. He was being such a fucking tease and all she wanted was to rip those clothes right back off of him. She was startled by how strongly her desire to sleep with the guy actually was. She had never felt such intense urges before. She would admit to never willingly having sex with a man before, just a battery operated device.
The problem was that this body had been altered. Did she regain her virginity as a result of the change? Even if she did, she would still wish for her first time to be with Solas, but wait, wasn't she romantically involved with Fenris and Alistair so she had to have had sex before now, right? The hedge mage knelt before her, looking at her with a concerned expression on his face.
"What are you thinking about, ma'avise?" He asked, shaking her from her thoughts.
"I wondering why the urge to have sex with you is so strong. I've never felt this way before and it's very confusing and alarming and slightly terrifying." She blurted out honestly, blushing in response.
"There is much about this situation that does make sense. You are not alone in wondering why the desire to claim each other physically is so strong. I accidentally summoned a spirit of lust last night in the Fade. She took on your image and I admit to using her to sate my lust. In my defense, I did not realize that I was in the Fade. A rather rare occurrence for one such as myself." He admitted, looking a little bashful.
"I hope she's okay. We have enough spirits being hurt as is." Artz commented, making the Dread Wolf flinch,
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel bad. I know how much you love the Fade and how much you care about the spirits, but you have to admit that recent events have made you into a monumentally big idiot."
"I am aware and I would very much like to ask you for your help. Help me repair the Veil and put an end to Corypheus. What happens after, we will face together." He requested, offering her his hand so that she could stand up.
She accepted it and rose to her feet. She went to respond to his request, but was cut off by him assaulting her mouth with his own. She suddenly found herself pinned to a wall, his grip firm and demanding. The fire inside her body reignited and became a raging inferno of lust and desire. She could barely think and her mind suddenly went haywire.
She couldn't think, she wasn't safe, if she couldn't think then she wasn't safe! Solas must have sensed the shift in her emotional state because he stopped kissing her and moved his hands to cup her cheeks. He was saying something but she couldn't quite make it out. Her vision was blurring from tears and she was becoming lightheaded.
A wave of cold washed over her along with the scent of a pine forest after a storm and she suddenly gasped for breath, breathing harshly while trying to get more oxygen into her apparently air deprived lungs. Fuck, did she just have a panic attack? The sounds of her environment were the last thing to return to her and she forced herself to focus on the ancient Elvhen that was in front of her.
"Da'ise, can you hear me?" He asked, his eyes searching hers.
She nodded jerkily as her breathing began to slow down. The tears slowly stopped and she looked up at him with tired eyes.
"I'm sorry. I couldn't think. I can't think, I'm not safe. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to freak out on you like that." She apologized, reaching up to grasp his wrists with her hands.
"Hush, ma'avise. There is no need to apologize. This world is still new to you, you are not accustomed to the change your body has undergone, everything you're feeling is much more potent and powerful now. You possess magic and the stronger a mage's talent, the deeper their emotions run. Why do you think mages are more susceptible to possession?" He responded gently.
"Chavtastic, as a human, my emotions already ran more deeply than others. Now as an elf with magic, that aspect of myself being amplified is fucking dangerous as hell." She griped, her head bowing forward a bit.
He shifted his hands to raise her head, their eyes meeting once again.
"Elvhen." He replied, confusing her, "Your body is not that of a modern elf. No elf of this time period or born within this Veiled existence would have been able to fully assimilate the Anchor. Your body is that of an Elvhen, but unlike myself, the Veil does not appear to hinder you. Your magic barely decreased the whole time we journeyed to the Temple of Sacred Ashes.
Yet your physical energy was depleted to dangerous levels, as if it were freshly created. I must speak to Wisdom to confirm if it is possible for a spirit to be transplanted into a newly formed body, but I have no other explanation to offer for such a contradiction. So much about you is not only uncertain but impossible."
"Not impossible, just a bit unlikely." She replied instantly with a smirk.
She had to admit that he could be on to something there. She had faced a few dozen spirits at best and only a few rifts. Sure, she had healed that soldier, but overall, she hadn't done very much. She was the Hero of Ferelden, meaning that she had faced off against ogres, hurlocks, genlocks, shrieks, blighted creatures, bandits, cultists, mercenaries, mages, abominations, bears, werewolves, knights, templars, dragons, a high dragon, and the shapeshifter known as Flemeth.
The battle to reach the Sacred Ashes had been a test of stamina and strength. The battle of Redcliffe was practically an exercise in futility with wave after wave of undead assaulting the village. The battle in the ruins of the Brecilian Forest was pretty much its own gauntlet, and the battle of Denerim was a shit show from start to finish and there was a motherfucking corrupted old god that had to be defeated for that to end at all.
This did not include anything that Hawke might have dragged her into while she was in Kirkwall. The Champion had a propensity for getting into ridiculously dangerous situations and because she had ties to Fenris, she did not doubt that she helped thwart countless attempts of slavers trying to recapture the broody elf.
The point was that it all pointed to someone being more physically acclimated to extended combat in harsh and unforgiving conditions. She could barely make it to the other side of the mine shaft. She was on the verge of collapse before she ever reached the Temple of Sacred Ashes and she blacked out twice, the second resulting in her awakening within Haven.
She looked up at Solas, her mind a flurry of thoughts and ideas. Her stomach piped up again, making her blush in embarrassment from just how loud it was gurgling in protest. The ancient Elvhen chuckled softly before placing a gentle kiss to her lips.
"Perhaps we should see to a more pressing hunger first, shall we?" He joked, making her become a tad sheepish.
"Sorry." She mumbled, glancing at him briefly.
She could feel the tips of her ears burning from just how deeply she was blushing, both from embarrassment and attraction. He took her hand, interlacing their fingers together and gently pulled her back into the main room. She watched as he unraveled the wards on the door, fascinated by his use of finite and intricate magic. He then opened the door and guided her outside.
She blinked harshly against the sudden increase of light. The snow made everything ridiculously bright and she mentally cursed her sensitivity to light. Why couldn't that aspect of her physiology change too?
"Are you alright, ma'avise?" Sokas inquired, seeing her sudden discomfort.
"Back home, I had a predisposition towards lower light settings, seeing in places where the majority of others could not. It would appear that part of my physiology has migrated over to this new body of mine. What a pain in the ass. I didn't pay attention to it before because of all the damn chaos. My future here in Haven is going to be nothing but a headache." She answered, her face scrunching up in pain.
Just fuck the genetic fucking lottery for the skull piercing headache starting to manifest itself in her cranium. She felt hands cover her eyes and a wave of cold flowed through her eyes, soothing away the pain. When the hands removed themselves, she opened her eyes, blinking a few times. Everything was bright, yes, but the details were astounding.
Without the pain from her light sensitivity, it was like she was seeing everything in high definition. Every detail was crisp and clear, the coloring vibrant and eye catching. She looked to the mage that had just taken her hand in his once more. Whoa…she thought he was handsome before, now he looked positively chiseled like a work of fucking art. His blue grey eyes looked like a storm caught at its height, a true tempest.
"What did you do?" She asked in awe.
He smiled softly at her, eyes dancing with amusement.
"Magic once resided in all things; the land, the sea, the sky and the people. The Elvhen had magic saturating their entire beings. With the Veil in place, those closest to the ancient elves still possess the fundamental truth within their bodies. Without magic, it manifests as any manner of ailment.
For the eyes, it most commonly manifests with being over sensitive to light. By allowing magic to circulate within your eyes, the vision of the Elvhen is restored. If you would like, I can teach you how to do this yourself. For now, my spell will hold until nightfall. Come, let us go to the tavern before the mid day meal has passed. Otherwise we will have to seek out an alternative food supply." The ancient Elvhen answered, smiling even more brightly at her.
She would admit that her insatiable curiosity was probably showing, but damn if she wasn't stoked about learning more magic. To her, magic was an amazing and wonderful gift with great promise and even greater possibilities. If she could combine the technology of the Modern Age with the magic of Dragon Age, the possibilities were innumerable.
There would be a great many dangers of course and she would need to be exceedingly careful with what she would invent, but there were so many positive advancements that could be migrated and adapted to life in Thedas that could exponentially benefit the world and all its many kinds of people.
Irrigation and modern lighting were near the top of the list. Perhaps she could further expound on the concept of the sending crystals that Dorian had introduced to the Dragon Age lore during the Trespasser DLC. She could extrapolate a more interconnected variant and bring about the Thedosian version of a mobile phone network that could possibly not rely on an orbital satellite system.
She barely paid attention to what she was actually eating, too absorbed into her own thoughts. What other inventions could she translate over and more importantly, what kind of inventions could she make that would never have been feasible in a purely technological society? Magic changed the way things could work and could yield a far greater result. Science and magic melding together as one.
"Oh I know that look. She's thinking about all the things she could do by mixing magic and science together. Ain't that right, Starshine?" Varric commented, taking a seat across from them.
She blinked out of the haze of pure unadulterated imagination to look over at the crossbow wielding storyteller of a dwarf.
"Did I do that a lot in Kirkwall, Weaver?" She asked, genuinely curious about that time of her life.
"Thinking, yes, but when it came to application, you and the Viscount didn't see eye to eye. He couldn't permit the city to become reliant on any new technology that required magic in any form. Your status as the Hero of Ferelden really saved your hide from Meredith's wrath.
Can't count how many times Curly put his ass on the line for you. In fact, I'm certain that it's easily triple the amount of times that I actually know about. Ever since he learned of your amnesia, he became fiercely protective of you. Meredith couldn't move directly against you without losing her Knight Captain and two thirds of her templars.
You and Hawke were the only things keeping the City of Chains from tearing itself apart. Blondie and Broody had a heck of a time keeping you safe. Those two were constantly getting on Hawke's case about dragging you out on some pretty dangerous jobs. That whole thing with the Bone Pit was just nuts, though no one can possibly doubt the results. You really know your shit when it comes to dragons, Starshine." The dwarf rambled on in full story telling mode.
Ever since playing Dragon Age: Inquisition, she had developed a bit of a bestiary obsession with the game. Wasn't the first time either. She had experienced a similar interest in the bestiary for Final Fantasy XII. She wasn't quite a perfectionist or a completionist, but she liked having a comprehensive guide for all items, weapons, armors, spells, techniques, licenses, and creatures, both common and exotic. Only two games had kicked her butt because of the modding option, Skyrim and Fallout 4.
"What can I say, I'm thorough." She replied, shrugging.
"No, you're a gamer and a fan fiction writer. A very dangerous combination when added to that insane imagination of yours." Varric amended with a smirk.
Welp this short stuff definitely knew her. Don't bullshit the bull shitter.
"Only became dangerous after coming to Thedas, Weaver. Here I have magic. All bets are off." Artz replied with a smirk of her own.
"Ah, Starshine. It hasn't been the same without you around. After you were gone, everything fell apart. Everybody scattered to the four winds. We didn't realize what we had until it was gone, so welcome back, kiddo. I won't mess up this time." The rogue spoke softly, making her eyes widen.
"Varric…" She started, her heart acting for him.
"Now, now, no need to get all weepy, Starshine. You're here, you're alive, and despite it all, you're still you. Even without your memories, you haven't changed one bit, steadfast and constant. So shine on, little star." The Dwarven author interrupted with a smile that broke her heart.
The crossbow wielding storyteller from the City of Chains got up from the table with a final head nod and left the tavern. It really did pull at the heartstrings when confronted with the broken hearts of those one could not remember. How was she supposed to deal with this? These people were once her friends and the simple act of not remembering them was wreaking devastation.
"Ma'avise, ma'nadas tel'emathe is'var nu. Ma'ane lathem. Lasa is'var lath revas ma, tel emathe ma. Lasa ra'dara." Solas spoke in elven.
You must not hold their pain. You are loved. Let their love free you, not hold you. Let it go.
"Easier said than done, ma'solas." She replied, trying to hold back tears.
Sweet Maker, she just keeps crying. Why can't she make the tears stop? The ancient Elvhen turned her face towards him.
"You are Elvhen, ma'avise. It will take time for you to acclimate to your new existence. That's why the tears won't stop and no, I did not read your mind. Your face is very expressive and your eyes do not lie. There is no shame in feeling the way you do, but do not carry the burden of a past forgotten. It is a burden I know too well, only slightly different, I must admit, but I do understand and I will help you, ma'avise." He stated with warmth and compassion.
"You are very different from the Solas I know." She breathed as she let him brush away her tears.
"That Solas is gone and he has been since I carried you up that mountain. That is why the future is uncertain for me. My purpose has changed, and the only certainty I now have is you, My Flame." He explained, making her gasp lightly.
"Well…shit."
For the last several days, Chancellor Roderick has been prancing on their last nerve. He was demanding that their templars invade the cabin of the apostate, Solas, and place both he and the Hero of Ferelden under arrest and have them transported to Val Royeaux to be executed by the chantry for the apparent murder of Divine Justinia V.
Commander Cullen Stanton Rutherford had flat out refused to move against the Hero of Ferelden and the elven apostate that was acting as her protector and healer. Leliana Nightingale was reaching the end of her patience and had actually drawn her hidden blade several times in the last two days, barely catching herself from impaling the irritating little man.
Cassandra was doing her best to simply prevent further bloodshed, but it was Lady Josephine Montilyet that was the most calm of the four of them and possibly the most deadly at this juncture.
"Chancellor Roderick, we understand the need for someone to accept responsibility for the Divine's death, however, calling for the execution of the Hero of Ferelden, the woman that almost single handedly saved Thedas from the Blight, would make you an enemy to the throne of Ferelden.
Amnesia or not, King Alistair will not hesitate to declare war on Orlais and march directly into Val Royeaux to save the woman that saved his country, gave him the throne, assisted Ferelden refugees in the Free Marches, attempted to save the Grand Cleric of Kirkwall, and above all, he would raze Thedas to the ground to ensure the safety of the woman he loves more than life itself.
Moreover, she quite literally holds the fate of the world in the palm of her left hand. The Mark is our one and only chance to close the Breach for good, preventing any further loss of life. She has and will be an instrument of change, already she inspires others with her heroic deeds in the past. Now she inspires a greater faith in the Maker and his beloved bride, Andraste.
More and more are converting to the Chant of Light and following the chantry. Do you wish for the will of the chantry to be damaged beyond repair by putting to death the woman that has reignited the flames of faith or do you wish to be the one to lead the faithful and by doing so, become a prominent religious figure with the respect of thousands, looking to you for the Maker's guidance?" The ambassador stated, her tongue sharper than any sword could ever be.
Before he had the chance to reply, the door to the war room opened, revealing Artz and Solas. They entered the room and closed the door behind them.
"I apologize for the delay. I was starving. I'm here now and we need to make plans for the closure of the Breach. There are a lot of scared people out there and the sooner we deal with this, the sooner we can find the bastard responsible for this and gut him like a fish." The snowy elf said with assurance.
"Oh and I suppose you know who is responsible for the Divine's death, do you? Awfully convenient, wouldn't you say?" Roderick commented with a sneer.
"Cassandra, I believe that you have something to show to the Chancellor, do you not?" Artz asked, looking at the seeker with a rather pointed look.
The Nevarran royal had to hide a smirk as she walked to a nearby table near the back of the room and returned with a thick tome, the symbol of the sunburst throne on its cover. She slammed the book down hard on the table.
"You know what this is, Chancellor? A writ from the Divine, granting us authority to act. As of this moment, I declare the Inquisition reborn." The dark haired woman stated with authority, "We will close the Breach, we will find those responsible, and we will restore order with or without your approval."
The Chancellor left the room without another word, but from the look on his face, they knew that things were far from over in regards to the weasel.
"This is the Divine's directive. Rebuild the Inquisition of old. We're not ready. We have neither the numbers or any chantry support." Leliana commented.
"But we have no choice, Leliana, we must act." Cassandra replied.
"Um…we also don't have a leader either." The snowy elf piped up, confusion written all over her face.
"The Divine made a decision shortly before the destruction of the Conclave. She named you as the leader of the Inquisition. You are to be our Inquisitor." Leliana informed.
"We're all doomed." Artz stated bluntly.
The Commander chuckled softly.
"Were anyone else to be Inquisitor, I would have agreed, but you are something special, Artz. You may not believe it yourself, but I have known you for many years. I know what you are capable of. If we give you something to fight for, then there is no force in creation that will stop you.
You saved Ferelden, you kept Kirkwall from becoming a battlefield graveyard…nothing and no one can defeat you. Even at your lowest with tears in your eyes, you saved the world. Despite my hatred of magic, you still chose to journey to Honnleath and save my family from the darkspawn. Even in Kirkwall when my hatred for magic was at its highest, you refused to abandon me.
You saved my life in the Tower, you saved my heart in Kirkwall, and in Val Royeaux, you saved my soul and set me on the path I now walk. You are the only person I would walk into the Void for, I would brave the Fade itself, and face off against the very essence of evil. If given the choice of who to lead this new Inquisition, it would be you." He declared passionately, bringing tears to the elf's eyes.
"I volunteered during the Fifth Blight to help you and you accepted me, my past, my darkness and my light. You are my closest and dearest friend, my sister in all but blood. If given the choice of who to lead us, it would be you." Leliana concurred.
"As we battled to reach the Temple of Sacred Ashes, you were constantly in tears and on the brink of collapsing from exhaustion, but not once did you give up. You insisted on saving lives, both people and spirits. You took command even though you were terrified with nothing but your instincts to guide you. If given the choice of who will command the Inquisition, it would be you." The seeker agreed with the Commander and the spymaster.
"I swear to the Maker that if you make a rousing speech, Josie, I'm out of here faster than you can say Maferath's balls." The blue eyed elf warned with a weak but playful tone.
"Oh no, I would never do such a thing to you, my lady, but if you would permit me to speak, I would also choose you to be our Inquisitor, based solely on your actions in this very room." The ambassador stated, seeing the woman's surprised expression,
"You entered this room with a clear purpose, to assuage the fears of the people by closing the Breach. You care deeply for the lives of people you do not know. You possess only your human memories from your previous homeland yet you deign to care for a world that is not your own.
That alone has my utmost respect. You succinctly shut down the protests of Chancellor Roderick, something that we have been incapable of doing for days. So we very much thank you for the much needed reprieve of his incessant badgering. Blood is so difficult to get out of things, particularly the carpet."
This elicited a small laugh from the snowy haired elf and a slight smirk on the face of the elven apostate. Artz closed her eyes, taking a few deep breaths.
"Ma'ju ea is'var enlea I'ma'ju ghi'la esh'ala." Solas spoke, confusing the others with the exception of the Hero of Ferelden.
"He said that I will be your light and that I will guide you." The snowy elf translated.
"Your command of the elven language is impressive, Artz. One of amongst many things I find impressive actually." Cullen commented, rubbing his neck out of habit.
"You know you all did those fancy speeches, but you already had me at the whole The Divine made you Inquisitor. Who am I to argue with the badass that was Dorothea?" Artz finally responded, accepting the position as leader of the Inquisition in true Artz fashion,
"We have work to do."
So Divine Justinia V had named her the Inquisitor shortly before her death at the Conclave. She should probably have seen that coming, given the fact that she was the Hero of Ferelden and apparently quite the influential figure in Kirkwall as well as the Free Marches. This put her in a bind. It was the age-old question, the question that pretty much defined the Dragon Age series, mages or templars.
Both groups were at risk, both had very real plights, and both had good people in their ranks. She, on principle alone, would choose to save the mages from the Tevinter magister using time magic to enslave them. On a more personal note, she would side with them just so she could save Alistair's mother, Fiona, but this was real life with real people and these were very real problems.
She and Solas had retired to his cabin after a rather lengthy process of declaring the Inquisition and getting the ball rolling so to speak. Solas, bless him, was actually preparing a restorative tea for her, despite having great distaste for the stuff which blissfully left her to her thoughts. She had an idea, but she would require his help. It ultimately boiled down to a time management problem.
The distance between Redcliffe Castle and the fortress of Therinfal Redoubt were too great to travel by conventional means, so in order to save as many as she can, she will the need use of the Eluvian network and possibly the aid of the agents of Fen'harel as well. She needed more information to better plot out a more accurate timeline.
She was jarred from her thoughts by the sight of a teacup on a saucer being held in front of her, making her go cross-eyed for a moment before ultimately taking it from the bearer. She was sitting on the rug in front of the fireplace and the ancient Elvhen sat down across from her, signaling for her to drink her tea. She took a sip and made a face at the teacup in her hand.
"That…is not tea. I don't know what that is but it is not tea. Note to self, figure out how to replicate the tea flavors, earl grey and orange pekoe." She commented, making a noise of disgust before taking another sip of the atrocious beverage that had the audacity to call itself tea.
The Dread Wolf let out a light hearted chuckle at the, no doubt, amusing facial expressions that she was making every time she drank from her teacup.
"What is it that troubles you so, ma'avise?" He inquired.
"I'm hitting a snag. The same old choice of who to save. Normally I would choose the mages in Redcliffe, both on principle and for personal reasons, but I cannot simply abandon the templars to either die or be corrupted by blighted lyrium. There are good men and women amongst them and they are capable of so much more.
The problem is distance and time. Both of which can actually be solved, but would require the use of at least two Eluvians, one near Redcliffe Castle and the other near Therinfal Redoubt. The next issue is protecting the nobles we would need to garner the attention of the Lord Seeker, but I don't want to expose the Eluvians to anyone in the Inquisition.
As much as I care for these idiots, I honestly don't trust them with the power that the Eluvian network could possibly grant them. As altruistic as their intentions may be, they would still seek to exploit any advantage even beyond when such advantages are no longer a necessity. Such power is intoxicating and dangerous, they have enough to worry about without potentially losing themselves in the process." She rambled.
"You are very wise, ma'avise. I would be willing to assist you in your endeavors. I will have my agents infiltrate both Redcliffe and Therinfal Redoubt to gather information. There is an Eluvian near Redcliffe Village, but one will need to be taken to the general vicinity of Therinfal Redoubt in order for your plan to work." The bald elf offered, making her emotions surge again.
She placed her teacup to the side and launched herself at the ancient Elvhen. He seemed to be prepared for this, his arms immediately encompassing her form and letting her cry into his chest.
"Ma'serannas, ma'solas." She replied once she was able to speak.
"Ma're vhalla, ma'avise." He responded softly, brushing his fingers through her hair in a calming manner.
Thank you, My Pride and You're welcome, My Flame…she loved speaking in their native tongue. It truly was a beautiful language and it was a shame that the Dalish butchered it so much. If he kept up with his fingers, she swore that she would start purring like a damn cat.
She suddenly found herself tilted back in his arms and his lips pressing against hers. The gentle flame inside her flared once again into a raging inferno. He kept the kiss light, not making it too invasive so as to not overwhelm her like earlier that day, but she desperately wanted more. She bit his bottom lip in a silent demand and he groaned, conflict clearly showing on his face.
After a few seconds, he lost the battle with himself and kissed her passionately, his tongue slipping effortlessly into her mouth. She gasped when she felt his fingers sliding into her pants and in between her legs. She was pretty sure some magic was involved because his fingers were moving at a slow pace, but she felt like she was about to come undone.
He kissed her again and let his fingers work their magic. Less than a minute later, she hit her first climax and her mind went blank. She didn't know how long it was before her mind came back online, but she was well aware of just how much fear and worry were present in the ancient Elvhen's stormy blue grey eyes.
"Artz!" He called, a touch of helplessness in his voice.
"I'm okay, I'm okay. I…I blanked. I…I didn't think it would happen with you because I trust you. I guess I still have some emotional baggage that I need to unpack first." She responded softly.
"What kind of baggage and what is blanking?" He asked, a bit more at ease now that she was responsive again.
"Blanking occurs due to two things. The first is when all thoughts in my head seemingly stop for no apparent reason. The opposite of this is the overload, when my thoughts go too fast and I am incapable of thinking in complete sentences, everything crashing into each other at insane speeds.
The second reason has to do with emotional trauma. A traumatic experience, commonly in one's childhood, that affects a person well into their adult life, sometimes for their entire lives. In my case, something happened when I was a kid. I was just seven years old.
My birth parents got a dissolution of their marriage called a divorce, each parent ended up with custody of a child. My elder brother for my dad and my mother for me. My father remarried three years later. That woman had children of her own, all grown but her eldest had a bit of a drinking problem so he ended up staying with them a lot.
I would visit my father every summer and my step brother was there the summer that I was seven years old. My brother was having a sleepover with a friend of his and both my father and step mother worked nights, so my step brother was left in charge of me.
I had gone to bed earlier that night and so he started drinking since he didn't have to worry about me anymore. I was usually a deep sleeper, but for some reason, I couldn't sleep that night. So I got up to get a glass of water, determined to do some reading to try and fall asleep.
My step brother noticed me in the kitchen and his eyes followed me the whole time. I didn't think anything of it at the time. I went back to my room and he followed me. Next thing I knew, I was lying naked on my bed and…and his dick was shoved inside me so far that it made me want to scream, but he wouldn't let me.
He pushed my face into the bed and started…fucking me hard. I didn't sleep at all that night. I never told anyone about what happened. Years later, he tried to apologize for what he did and I couldn't forgive him. It was because of him that I was terrified of a man's touch, of being touched at all.
The stupid idiot got drunk that night out of guilt and what did he do, he tied me to my bed and raped me…again, but it wasn't just a one time thing. He got it into his head that since he caused the problem that he could help fix the problem by forcing me to confront my fear through constant, forceful sex. For months, I was at his mercy and the only thing he accomplished was creating a subconscious need to be tied up and fucked.
I'm an independent woman that bows to no one, but get me in the damn bedroom and I want to be bound and fucked, to have the freedom I prize so much torn away from me and essentially be dominated by my partner. That's why I shied away from everyone, men, women…it didn't matter because I was ashamed, ashamed of what that bastard turned me into." She revealed, her emotions overflowing and the tears returning full force.
She heard Solas whisper an apology into her ear before her hands were suddenly tied behind her back. She looked back at him in panic, her stomach flat on the floor.
"Choose a word." He commanded.
She understood immediately what he wanted her to do. She understood the concept of bondage sex and how couples would make specific rules before continuing. She trusted him, so she was going to let this play out.
"Petrichor." She replied quietly.
"If at any time, it becomes too much, say that word. If not, I will do as I wish." He warned and she nodded her consent.
She was fortunate that she was no longer in her ice dragon outfit because he straight up tore off her clothes, leaving her bare before him. He did not bother with foreplay, he simply took her. Admittedly, it was painful at first. He was much bigger than that brief glimpse had portrayed. That and she had her answer. This body had indeed been a virgin, but not anymore.
She wasn't entirely sure how long he simply used her body as he wished. He treated her like she was nothing more than an instrument for his own pleasure. That's not to say that she didn't climax at all because she did frequently, but it was the feeling of being used more than anything else that was making her come.
So many times she called out for him to stop, but he did not. Every time she said stop, he would fuck her vigorously while sending sharp strikes to her ass with a strip of a leather that she assumed was either her belt or his. She was beginning to wonder if he was ever going to get his fill because he hadn't come even once.
She was exhausted, her body covered in a thick layer of sweat. Her safe word was literally at the tip of her tongue when his constant thrusting started becoming sporadic. He was grunting in extreme effort and she could feel him trying to restrain himself.
"Petrichor." The word slipped out before she could stop herself.
His dick slammed fully inside her and she could feel her insides being pumped full of something very hot, presumably his cum. He barely managed to unbind her hands before simply laying on top of her, his breathing harsh and labored.
"You…my flame…have the endurance of a great dragon. No one…I have ever bedded…was able to last as long as you did. I actually had to use…magic just to make it this far." He praised, smiling against her back.
He kissed her sweat soaked skin and she shivered in desire. What the fuck…after all that, you suddenly want more? Seriously what the fuck, you stupid idiot?
"It would seem that you ended this before you were truly ready to. I will have to make certain to drink a stamina potion before attempting this again, ma'on'ala isenatha." He stated with a laugh.
My great dragon…that was some title. Let's hope that one just pertains to the bedroom. She rather liked being called His Flame.
"Abelas, ma'solas. I could feel you restraining yourself and it just sort of slipped out." She apologized sheepishly.
He let out another laugh before actually slipping out of her with a hiss. Best guess was that he was feeling uber sensitive after their activities.
"You have nothing to be ashamed of, ma'avise. You are a remarkable woman with great passion and an even greater compassion. So long as you trust me, I can do this for you. I know how it feels to be at another's mercy, so if you ever wish to return the favor. I would very much be delighted to be at your mercy." He offered, making her melt.
Andruil, he spoke of his time being at that bitch's mercy. He had been her prisoner for a year and she could only imagine the terrible things the huntress did to him while in her care. Would he truly trust her that much, to allow her to make him feel that vulnerable and powerless again?
She shifted and Solas fell off to the side with a huff. She positioned herself so that she could look into his eyes. In those blue grey depths was trust, he truly did trust her. She could feel her eyes watering and she honestly tried not to cry, but then he smiled knowingly at her and they came anyway. He held her in his arms and let her cry.
Once he was rested enough, he filled the tub and placed a heating glyph on the side. They enjoyed the bath together though at some point, he did wind up back inside her. He pinned her hands behind her back and ordered her to ride him and she did so obediently. He didn't last long this time because he didn't use magic and she erupted into a fit of giggles, proving just how tired she truly was.
They did eventually get cleaned up and dressed in some night clothes. She had absconded with one of his lighter tunics and he wore a loose pair of leggings. She crawled into bed and he took a moment to admire her before joining her, wrapping his arms around her and tucking her closely against him. Within moments, both drifted off to sleep.