A/N: This chapter is rated M for sexual content.

XII

Within his touch there would always seem to be a certain amount of hesitancy. There would always seem to be a part of him that would pause to pull back when the rest of him had seemed primed to move forward. She would even eventually come to accept that aspect of him, but never would she notice it more than in those last fleeting moments before the first time he finally decided to take her.

He had kept her pinned against the stone, her legs wrapping around his waist as he had buried his face against the inside of her throat. And as his breath had trailed warm against her skin, he had wavered, the residual adrenaline sending a fine tremor along her body as he had appeared to be weighing all the consequences of his actions.

"Always the scholar," she had said, warmly, her hands trailing in long languid paths along the full expanse of his back as she had spoken against his ear. "Always judging the past against the possibilities of the future. There will come a point in time, ma vhenan'ara, when the fade will share our tale, and it will say that I had always loved you. But, today, is when I show you, Solas. If you will let me."

For a few moments he had simply held her, his forehead pressed against hers as she had guided her fingertips delicately along the nape of his neck. In that gray half-dark, they would have appeared to any passerby as merely an intimate silhouette, but somewhere on another plane of existence they had been teetering at the edge of a large precipice.

"Show me..."

Within his voice there had been a strong sense of conviction; a coming to terms. Whatever the final cost, it had appeared he had made a choice to allow himself, her. And there were always going to be costs.

Rubbing the tip of her nose affectionately against the bridge of his, she had moved to kiss him, his hands lifting to ravel within her hair. And as his lips had played softly against her own, she had shifted herself more firmly against him, his teeth moving to graze her chin as he had guided himself fully inside of her.

"Fenedhis lasa..."

Inhaling sharply, she had dug her nails into the back of his shoulders, her head tilting back as his mouth had played gently along the delicate swell of her small breasts. And as their bodies had mingled, merged, and entwined, she had clung against the welcomed press of him; his scent, the rhythm of him, all of it met by the soft wanting curves of her body.

In the surrounding silence, there had been only their labored breathing and the undulation of water, her slight elvhen form writhing against his as she had let go of all her restraints upon the anchor. It had been a slow deep seduction, and the intensity of it had flushed her skin and called out to the lost, ancient, and forgotten magic; it's caress almost serpentine alongside their auras as it had ignited them and set them both ablaze in a dim green light.

Together they had formed a single entity, glowing as though consumed entirely by veilfire, the loose ephemeral tendrils of their combined energies listing and veering around them as chain lightening and wind had formed within the confines of the cave. And as their bodies had hummed and tightened at the very edge of release, their powers had built beside them, flexing and growing until they had become like the eye in the center of a small tempest.

"You seek to end us both..."

It had been a thought, warm and teasing; his words as clear as if she had spoken them, herself. The thread that had connected them through the veil, through their shared magics within the anchor, had become heightened by their physical connection; and within it, she had suddenly been able to feel what it had been like for him to be inside of her. She had been able to see how her eyes had reflected, green and bright, as their magics had danced along the water. How her auburn hair, long and wild, had risen with the electricity that had licked at the stone around them. She had seen it and she had felt it. He had thought her beautiful, and he had needed her.

But, there had been something else. Something hidden just beneath. Something that he had been trying to keep from her. A single name that had flashed,there but for a moment and then gone, again. She had sensed only that it had become a symbol to him. A symbol for the pain and the anguish and the self inflicted loneliness. It had been the name on his lips when he had sentenced himself to solitude, and it had been the reason he had forbidden himself to want her.

Something had happened to her, and he had blamed himself. But, who was she? Who was, Ceporah?