Exile
By Pyreite
Chapter 2 –The Wolf in Elven skin
Ellana spent most of the night awake, too bewildered to sleep. Her last conversation with Mahariel had left her dreading the coming day. She'd dozed off a handful of hours before dawn, exhausted in mind and body. She woke at first light to the rattle of keys. She roused, yawning, as the door to her room was unlocked.
The door swung open to reveal Mahariel. He stood on the threshold with a bucket in hand, and a pile of clothing slung over his shoulder. He was quiet as he invited himself inside her room. He had neither pleasantries nor a smile for her this morning. His mouth was tight, his expression grim.
"On your feet".
Ellana curbed her tongue. She didn't like his tone, though she did as he asked. It would do her little good to alienate him. Mahariel had been her constant companion for two decades. He'd overseen her meals, her excursions around the fortress, and her lessons with Solas.
She'd been especially grateful for the latter. Being around Solas for any length of time always made her uncomfortable. Now after years of camaraderie, things were awkward between them. Ellana sighed when Mahariel crossed the floor. The door to her cell locked behind him with a clink of steel.
The guards returned to their posts outside, whilst Mahariel set the bucket on the floor. He grasped the clothing at his shoulder, tossing it on the bed. Ellana gaped at the assortment he'd brought. He had everything from small-clothes to breeches, though the gloves were a surprise. One was short and fingerless, while the other was longer – meant to cover from wrist to elbow. Ellana reached for the second glove, the digits of her left hand bright against the black leather.
"You've thought of everything".
Mahariel nodded. "I didn't think you'd want anyone to see your arm. It could raise awkward questions about your past and origins. No one has seen an elf with a silverite hand outside this fortress. Fewer still would know that elf carried a fortune in dwarven craftsmanship on them too".
"If they did", said Ellana. "It'd increase my chances of being lynched".
"Or killed. People do terrible things for the smallest of rewards".
"Still trying to convince me to stay?"
Mahariel shook his head. "No. You've made your decision. I don't blame you for wanting to be rid of Solas. A life of imprisonment no matter how pleasant the cage isn't a life at all".
"It's survival".
"And mere existence", finished Mahariel. "I understand better than you think".
He frowned as something odd occurred to him. He had wondered for years if Lavellan had resented him after she'd yielded Skyhold. Fen'Harel's siege of the fortress had lasted four days, though little blood had been spilled. The Herald of Andraste had kept her word, going to the Dread Wolf as his prisoner. Her surrender had been absolute, though she'd hardly been an accommodating captive.
"Ellana".
"Yes?"
"Do you hate me?"
She arched an eyebrow. "For what?"
"For being a turncoat", said Mahariel. "For aiding Solas against you. For being your gaoler and his spy. Need I say more? I'm afraid you think badly of me".
Ellana flexed the fingers of her mechanical hand, the gears inside whirring. She gazed at the length of her forearm, admiring the transition from silverite to flesh. The gauntlet was fused to her left arm below the elbow. The skin and flesh beneath was scarred where Solas had severed her hand with magic. The cut had been clean, the wound cauterised – though Ellana would never forget the pain.
"No, Mahariel. I don't hate you. I've been angry with you for a great many years, but I don't think badly of you. I think you're a fool for treating with Solas, for agreeing to serve him. Yet, I'm glad you did".
He gaped at her, thinking she might be ready to admit something important. "What? Why?" He was disappointed when Ellana smiled. Her teasing tone told him exactly what she meant.
"Otherwise. I'd be stuck with that flat-eared twit from Kirkwall".
Mahariel groaned, eyes rolling in exasperation. "I'd hoped you'd make a confession of true love".
"Not today".
"Pity".
Ellana snorted as she threw the covers back. She set her bare toes on the floor, glad of the rugs. She saw Mahariel's ears turn pink when he gazed first at her feet, then her ankles. He was staring at her shins next, brows arching when the edge of her shift rode above her knees. He pursed his lips, whistling when he glimpsed her bare thighs. Ellana was as discomforted by his leering as she was his honesty.
"Fenedhis. You're beautiful".
She took umbrage when Mahariel made his move. He went for her knees, fingers wiggling. Ellana bristled, bracing herself to kick him. She scowled when Mahariel snickered. The sly glint in his eye betraying his rotten sense of humour.
He bypassed her knees for the bucket at her feet. A wave of his hand above it and what was icy-cold now steamed. He smirked as he gestured to the hot water. His intention was clear when he offered her a cloth, and a bar of soap. Ellana snatched both away before he got any ideas.
"Ass. I thought you were going to grope me!"
"Do you want me too?"
"No!"
Mahariel pouted. "After all these years. You're still as easy to rile as the first day we met. You're predictable, Lavellan".
"That won't matter for much longer", she taunted. "If all goes well. You won't have to put up with me anymore. I'll be free of you too. It'll be a wonderful change for both of us".
His smirk disappeared as did the twinkle in his eye. Mahariel regarded her with that same forlorn look from the previous night. Ellana tensed when he lifted a hand. She flinched when his knuckles grazed her cheek with unabashed tenderness. He saw the apprehension, the mistrust in her eyes, though he leaned inward regardless.
His breath was warm against her lips. "I'll miss you".
"That's enough", warned Ellana, her teeth gritted. "You're already walking a dangerous line. Don't cross it. You know how possessive Solas is. I'd rather not give him a reason to hurt you".
"I'll take the risk".
"Mahariel!"
"Allow me this small comfort", he implored. "I might never see you again. Be kind to me, Ellana. This once. Haven't I been kind to you these many years?"
He was crowding her space, putting himself between her and the edge of the bed. Ellana's hand was on his chest when he moved closer. She flinched when her clasped her hand, sliding it across his gambeson until it rested over his heart. Ellana felt it beat through the leather and velvet like a drum. She tried to push him away, to put distance between them, when Mahariel asked for the impossible.
"Grant me one kiss to remember you by".
"No!"
"Please".
Ellana gripped the collar of his gambeson, intending to shove him away. She paused when she glimpsed the skin beneath, not quite believing what she saw. She slipped her fingers beneath his collar, running them over the slope of his throat. She waited for a hiss of pain or a whimper of discomfort. She looked up in disbelief, taking in Mahariel's square chin, angular cheeks, and the sharp bridge of his nose.
She gazed into the eyes beneath his black brows. She saw green with flecks of gold so bright it was as if the sun were reflected there. Ellana was lost in the moment when something warm pressed against her mouth. She groaned, lips parting as Mahariel took advantage. His tongue slid home, running over her gums, then her teeth.
She responded on reflex, mouth opening wider. He was wet, warm, and tasted sweet with an edge of sourness she attributed to wine. He did have a fondness for the finer vintages Solas stocked in the cellar. The weight of his hands on her hips was grounding, the press of his chest against her belly exciting. Ellana moaned when his fingers slid into her hair.
She would've prolonged the kiss if she hadn't noticed something strange. A swipe of her tongue over his incisors was startling. She did it again, brows furrowing when she felt a sharp point. She broke the kiss, suspicious when Mahariel allowed her to retreat without complaint. He said nothing when she stared at his mouth. He was calm as she ran a thumb across his lower-lip, pressing down to reveal the gums beneath.
She stared when she saw the point of a canine. It was long and sharp like the fang of a cat or dog. Ellana turned her thumb against his upper-lip to expose more of his teeth. She gaped when she saw another canine tooth. It was larger and longer than the one below.
She tensed when Mahariel licked the underside of her thumb. A gentle bite on the nail made her gasp. She snatched her hand back, perturbed when his lips peeled away from his teeth. A soft inhuman growl made her tremble. Mahariel exposed his pointed incisors and sharp wolf-like fangs.
His eyes glinted when Ellana paled. She glanced from him to the door beyond that led out into the hall. One scream and she could summon the guards. Mahariel arched an eyebrow as if in challenge. Ellana swallowed, suddenly nervous.
Her gaze fell on the slope of his throat. She tensed when Mahariel yanked open the collar of his gambeson. She expected to see a thin pink line of mended skin. She gawked, incredulous when she didn't see evidence of a wound or the flushed skin of a recent healing spell. Mahariel was unhurt which meant one of two things.
Either he wasn't who he presented himself to be.
Or.
"Maker's breath!" hissed Ellana. "You're a spirit!"
"Not a demon?" asked Mahariel.
"Solas would never permit one to walk his halls, let alone interact with his people. You'd be a danger to all the elves waking or sleeping. Solas is arrogant not a fool. I know the wards he's set about the fortress do more than conceal. This place is a safe-haven for good reason".
Mahariel nodded in approval. "You've taken his lessons seriously".
Ellana scowled. "Not by choice".
"You're still sour about that".
"I never volunteered to be taught the Vir Thenerasan".
"A necessity".
She grimaced. "So you say. That still doesn't explain what you are".
Mahariel's eyes rolled in exasperation. "We've spent years together. You know what I am. Who I am. You've always known".
"I know you as Mahariel, the Hero of Fereldan not a spirit wearing his face".
He grinned wolfishly. "Good of you to notice. It only took twenty-seven years". He glanced at the silverite gauntlet fused to her left arm. He reached forward, plucking at the mechanical fingers digging into her thigh.
"What're you doing?"
"I need something from you".
"Like what?"
He chuckled. "Not sex if that's why you're worried. You have something else that interests me".
Ellana trembled when he turned her hand over, exposing the stamp of the Inquisition. He ran his fingers over the metal to the eye at the centre of her palm. He tapped that eye twice and like flint to steel is sent up a shower of emerald sparks. He stilled when five silver digits clamped tight around his hand.
Her grip was like a vice, hard, unyielding, and strong enough to break bone.
"Do you remember me now, da'len?" he asked, tone mocking.
Ellana nodded dazedly.
"Who am I?" he demanded, green eyes narrowing.
"The Anchor".
Mahariel snorted. "Try again".
Ellana whispered the most reviled name in Dalish folklore. "Fen'Harel".
He smiled from ear to ear, revealing a smile full of jagged teeth. "Better". He tutted when she opened her mouth again. He knew she'd have a thousand questions to ask him. "Not now, da'len. All will be revealed in good time. For now, you will do my brother's bidding. You will bathe, dress, and together we will go and meet with him".
"But".
The spirit that wore Mahariel's face silenced her with a disapproving cluck of his tongue. "Later. Solas isn't the most patient of men. Do as I ask. And when we win free of this accursed place. I will tell you everything".