The Crestwood mission turned out to be only the beginning, just as Solas had feared. Those Grey Wardens, stumbling in the dark, using the forces they did not even comprehend! Of course Corypheus would use them, foolish and determined as they were.

Still, the journey was not at all fruitless. The Inquisitor could not leave the huge underwater rift opened, so they had to deal with it, and the Inquisition got a new stronghold. Inquisitor Lavellan seemed to be quite pleased as her main task was once more postponed. It was decided that they spend one day at Caer Bronach to check their supplies, their gear and simply rest. The castle had been inhabited and well-stocked, but they still preferred to sleep in their own tents.

The breakfast, however, was far better than their usual camp meal. They had freshly-baked bread, and dried apples, and oats, and even milk and butter from castle's kitchens. After all that gloomy rain, walking corpses and flooded remnants of Old Crestwood, the morning and the breakfast seemed no less than royal.

Solas woke up from the sunlight shining through the tent's material. It was late. Nobody had woken him, as the day was dedicated to resting. Normally, he was an early bird, but he felt tired lately. He did not have the opportunity to speak with the Inquisitor about what had happened in the Fade, and, frankly, he did not see the way to do it. She did not mention it, and probably never would. It was just a dream to her, and it would remain as such. It was frustrating for him to see her in the normal state of friendliness and to long for the Fade image of her, passionate and aglow.

Getting out of his tent, Solas looked around. Almost everybody was awake and they were enjoying their morning meal: Cassandra, Iron Bull, scout Harding, some of Leliana's men, and other Inquisition agents. Ellana, on the other hand, was not eating, but standing behind seated Harding and doing her hair into a complex braid.

Solas stared at her quizzically, arching an eyebrow.

"Before you become the tenth person to ask me what in Thedas I'm doing, I'll answer you – I love plaiting hair." Ellana welcomed him, her lips curling up slightly. "It's comforting and reminds me of home, of my friends."

Solas nodded and took a sit near the campfire, taking his bowl of oats from the serving man.

"Did you have a long hair yourself, Inquisitor?" Harding asked, angling her head upwards.

"I did." Ellana confirmed, gently urging the dwarven woman to return her head to the previous position and continued her work.

"Why did you cut it? It's so thick and fair, you'd look lovely!" Harding stated pitifully.

"It was not my choice. I cut it when – wait, you do not know?" Ellana glanced around to see her friends' faces directed at her. "I've told the story a hundred times to Cassandra when she was questioning me!" She explained.

Everyone was now staring at the Seeker. The woman swallowed her food quicker than she'd normally do and protested: "I'm not a gossip teller! And no one asked me."

"Tell us the story, Inquisitor, please," Harding suggested. It was a nice peaceful morning, and the story would be a perfect addition.

"All right," Ellana agreed, still stroking Harding's long hair carefully. "They cut my hair when I was sent to the Conclave – it was cut to cover my ears. My Keeper also provided me with special face paint to mask my vallaslin. After all, I was sent to the Conclave not as a Dalish ambassador, but as a spy."

Iron Bull snorted at her words ungracefully.

"What?" Ellana demanded impatiently.

"You, a spy? You're kidding me, Boss," the qunari explained, grinning widely.

"Why can't I be a spy?" Inquisitor frowned in feigned displeasure.

Iron Bull laughed shortly, but heartily. "Let's just say that under the Qun you would never be a spy."

Keeping the ends of Harding's hair in one hand, Ellana put the other one on her hip and glared at her companion daringly. "And what would I be under the Qun?"

The qunari let his gaze roam from her head to her toes, and his expression was highly inappropriate, lewd even, at least in Solas' opinion.

"You… would never be a spy." He finally repeated his words, the disapproving glare of Cassandra restraining from naming Inquisitor's occupation out loud.

Ellana chuckled lightly, not giving the thought much attention. Solas, on the contrary, was fuming inside, his soul infuriated with the disrespect shown to her. His darkened eyes bored into the qunari mocking face, but Iron Bull was too occupied with his joke to notice. How dared he eyeing her like that, as if she had not already been taken? Solas' eyes darted back to Ellana. The memory of their kiss in the Fade almost brought the smug smirk on his face. What would he say, that Bull, if he had seen the girl as Solas had seen her? All needy and moaning, with wet lips and clouded eyes, completely at his will, his name on her lips… Oh, that name. He should have kept her silent, or breathless, or whatever it took to make her quiet. He could have had her right there, on the Fade snow, if not for that name. That…

"…Solas?" She asked softly, her eyes staring at him, surprised.

Fenedhis. He glanced at her, his cheeks darkening, his eyes slightly unfocused. "I, ah, nothing." He muttered, angry with himself for losing his concentration.

"He's just trying to imagine you with the long hair," Harding joked. Her hair was all done now, and she probed her braid with her fingers. "If there's anyone here begging to be imagined with another haircut, then it's you, Solas!" She exclaimed merrily. Solas did not dignify that with the answer, and put more food into his mouth to justify his silence.

"Anyway, my Keeper thought it was a good disguise. I had human armor, and I almost looked as a skinny human girl. Very pretty skinny human girl, mind you." Ellana continued somewhat proudly. "I do not know the other cultures' standards, but believe me, among the Dalish, I'm considered a comely girl." She finally sat down and began eating her breakfast.

"Told you, Boss, you would never be a spy." Iron Bull replied teasingly. Most people around burst into laughter, as now Bull's meaning became quite clear. Smirking, the qunari got up. "I think I have to go get news from Chargers, I'm sure Red's agents have them for me. Nice day, you all."

One by one, people began leaving the area, as though the day was meant for resting, there was still much to do. Cassandra was hoping to get the information on bandits groups on the roads and also speak to Sister Vaughn, Harding had to gather her scouts, and finally Solas and Lavellan were the only ones left, as they both began their meal later than the others.

At first they were simply eating, looking into their plates. Ellana glanced up occasionally at her neighbor, Harding's jokes still reverberating in her head. She watched his smooth head, trying to imagine his hair. It was not an easy task.

"Say, Solas, is you hair curly or not?" She asked lightheartedly.

Solas hummed at the absurdity of her question. "It is not." He replied in an even tone, not even turning his face to her.

Ellana sighed quietly. It was just stupid. He was the real Solas, and not the man from her dream, no matter how much she wanted it to change.

"You know, if you had a long hair, I could braid it too," she suggested musingly. She still craved for the conversation with him, even if he responded guardedly.

Solas closed his eyes for a second, taking all his resolve to stop the imagining her running her fingers through his once indeed long hair. She had meant it as an amicable gesture, he reminded himself. Devastated with the new wave of frustration, Solas looked at his still half-full bowl, his appetite leaving him.

Ellana noticed his upset state.

"Is something wrong, Solas?" She asked with genuine worry in her tone.

Yes, he wanted to say, everything. It was so wrong to be so near to her and not be able to touch her. It was so wrong that he had claimed her but still had no right to have her. It was so wrong that he yearned to talk to her about the kiss, but he had no means of saying it. It was so wrong that finally he desired to tell her the truth, but he had to keep up with the lie. It was so wrong that she had been so receptive, and now she behaved as if nothing had happened.

It was all so wrong, but telling her would be even worse. Solas had to answer her something, though, and as usual he chose to tell her something less important than the true reason of his anguish.

"Your people… the way they've used you, used your looks and not your skills. It was wrong." Solas stated finally. He turned his head to look at her at last, and Ellana was shocked with the magnitude of the pain in his eyes.

"I've never thought about it like that." She confessed thoughtfully. "The spying, it was a game to me." After a small pause she continued, raising her eyebrows a little. "I would never expect you to be so overprotective."

Her dream-Solas would never be protective. Possessive, yes, protective, no. But sadly, he did not exist.

"Ma emma lethallan." Solas answered, lowering his head anew, his voice low and sad. He could not protect her, but he would do everything he could to ease her task.

Ellana was touched by his words. "Ma emma lethallin." She echoed him in a quiet, but passionate voice. Those were not the words she would say to the dream-Solas. 'Ma emma lath', she would tell him.

The silence fell again. After a couple of moments, the real Solas got up and excused himself from her company, leaving her alone by the campfire.

Ellana spent her day not entirely resting as it was planned. The Crestwood people came to see her, and the Inquisition agents continued to send their reports. Still, she found some time to wander around the keep, trying to calm her worried mind, to erase the disturbing memories of her inflamed dream. It had felt so real, and she remembered it in the tiniest details. Never before she had dreams like that.

The man from the dream had the appearance of Solas. But it was not him, of course. Solas, kissing like that? That was not possible. It was just her imagination, she repeated herself. But after that dream, when she looked at the elven mage, she was seeing her dream lover, and it was tiring and devastating to break her hopes several times a day.

The sun was setting down, as Ellana Lavellan sat near her tent, assembling the arrows for her longbow. Certainly, she was well provided as the Inquisitor, but the task seemed familiar and it brought her some inner peace. No matter how hard she tried, she could not free her mind from the questions about her dream. She wished to talk to someone about it, but the chance did not show up during the day. Everyone was occupied with their own business.

But the opportunity to talk finally emerged in the evening. Cassandra appeared from the gallery surrounding their in-castle camp place, and walked towards Ellana. She sat down beside her, her expression somewhat disappointed, and she said discomposedly: "They call me the Seeker of Truth, and I can't even understand the truth behind mayor's actions." She sighed. "I've heard out so many villagers today, but I still can't make my mind about his guiltiness. We will need to find him, Inquisitor."

Ellana nodded. It was good that Cassandra was in the mood to talk. She was not always so open, but the day of rest and the Crestwood people sufferings had obviously made her more inclined to listen.

A month ago, Ellana would have not been able to imagine this situation. She did seek the Seeker's advice and company. The days spent together in travelling, fighting in the wilds brought them closer. The women were not as different as it could seem. Furthermore, Cassandra had been leading the Inquisition before Lavellan, so they were the only ones who fully understood the charge.

Ellana put her arrows aside, and asked, her eyes boring into the campfire that seemed to grow brighter with the sunlight dying off.

"Can I ask you a personal question, Cassandra?"

The woman hesitated for a very short time before answering: "Of course, Inquisitor."

Gratefully, the elf continued. "Did you ever have a dream, where you were with a man, and he looked as someone you know, but behaved differently?" Ellana knew that straightforwardness was the best tactic with the Seeker.

Cassandra coughed uncomfortably. "Perhaps." She answered evasively. When she was younger, she had had such dreams, and in her dreams the young men were always gentler and more romantic than they were in reality.

"Do you think it can mean something? Or is it just a dream?" Ellana voiced the question that was troubling her.

"I don't know. The dreams, the Fade – I would not believe it." Cassandra stated thoughtfully. "It could be a demon." She added, a bit anxiously. "Was he tempting you, offering you things?" Cassandra watched the younger woman sympathetically. The Inquisitor had to be guarded and protected, even in her dreams.

"He was tempting." Ellana bit her lip. "He did not offer anything though, he only took." She confessed, and voice resembled a whisper. A demon? No, please, let it not be a demon, she thought.

"I'm sorry to say that I can offer little help with that, Inquisitor." Cassandra admitted. "Why won't you ask Solas? He's the Fade expert." She suggested.

Ellana felt the heat rising in her cheeks. "No, no, I can't ask him." She protested hurriedly.

Cassandra frowned, watching Lavellan quizzically. "Why- ahhh…" She gasped with sudden understanding, covering her mouth with a hand. "It is him, isn't it?"

Lavellan nodded ruefully. "It is foolish, I know. He's older, wiser, he's seen so much. He can't be interested in me." She accepted bitterly.

Cassandra shook her head lightly. "Don't be so harsh on yourself. Solas was so… caring and gentle with you while you were unconscious. I had even suspected that you were accomplices. Friends, maybe even lovers."

Ellana widened her eyes at the unexpected confession. "Why?"

The woman shrugged her shoulders. "First, you are both elves. Second, he appeared just after you did, and he was so eager to see you, he had stayed with you so long. I thought you were both guilty of the explosion, but you got hurt, and he tried to get you out of my grasp." Cassandra glanced at the elf apologetically. "He told me he could not wake you up, but I suspected that he was just covering your crime. I even threatened to execute him. As an apostate mage, Solas was completely at my will."

Ellana could not believe what she was hearing. The Seeker was repeating the story the dream-Solas told her, and in almost the same words. If it was happening inside her mind, how could she learn the true information then? Was it really a dream?

Solas had to answer her questions, Ellana decided forcefully.

"Have you seen Solas, Cassandra?" Inquisitor asked springing to her legs in one swift movement. She wanted to be the fooled one no longer.

The Seeker watched the elf, not grasping the sudden change. "I have seen him at the top, beside the Inquisition standard." She replied perplexed.

Ellana nodded quickly and stormed out to meet with the one who had toyed with her mind and tricked her.

She was walking fast, up and up the endless stairs. Her mind was raging. Her thoughts were confused. How could he? He must have known she would remember the dream. He knew it really happened. Why did he not mention it to her? Was it just a joke to him? Was he mocking her, laughing at her helpless and foolish obsession with him? Did it mean nothing to him? She would have her answers.

Ellana finally reached the highest place in the keep. Solas was indeed there, looking down at the Crestwood remnants, his back turned to her. He dared to look sad and troubled, she thought. He, the one who used her and discarded her.

"Solas, you owe me an explanation!" She shouted at him, and she did not care if anyone heard.

The older elf nearly jumped at the sudden sound. He turned to look at her, and there was a frightened expression on his face, but only for a moment or two. Then he managed to collect himself and replied in the most polite and proper tone.

"Good evening, Inquisitor." A tiny smirk crossed his face at her annoyed look as he insinuated her own not-so-proper manners. "What do you wish that I explain?" He inquired, narrowing his eyes slightly.

Ellana still watched him angrily. He would not fool her again with his politeness.

"Were you meddling in my dreams?" She demanded dangerously, stepping nearer to him, cutting the way out for him.

She was even more infuriated to see him relaxing his posture, as if the problem was already solved.

"Just once." He confessed with a light smile.

"The last day at Skyhold?" She had to get it straight.

Solas nodded gracefully. He was so calm and assured, and she still could not make herself believe it was him in her dream.

"So it was real, wasn't it?" She asked again. The conversation was ridiculous. He was not participating much, to tell the truth. It was not what she expected, it was not satisfying.

Solas hesitated a second before answering her, his voice becoming gentler. "It was. The kiss…" He sighed, but his gaze did not leave her face. "…was impulsive and ill-considered. I should not have encouraged it." He admitted, finally sounding at least somewhat sorry.

But it was not enough. And the way he shifted the responsibility on her shoulders!

"Let me tell you something," Ellana began, her temper boiling, as she was pointing her finger at him. "You encouraged nothing. When I kissed you, you did not encourage it. But when you kissed me, I did." She glared at him, her cheeks heating up with the memories, but she was still standing her ground.

His breathing became harder, she noticed victoriously. Carefully, evidently longing for the answer, he asked, his voice quiet and anticipating: "Do you regret it?"

"No." She was quick to reply, never doubting. "For unlike you, I play fair."

He closed his eyes briefly, as if the immense wave of emotions was flooding over him, and he was afraid to drown in it. When he opened his eyes again, they were filled with the unexpected tenderness.

"You are fair." He whispered.

Ellana blinked at him, not believing her ears. "Excuse me, but did you just compliment me?" Her voice tingled with bewilderment. "I fail to follow you." She admitted.

"I did." He answered in a light tone, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he smiled once again.

She let out an exasperated sigh. "Just how many faces do you have, Solas?" She could not get used to those sudden shifts in his mood and behavior. "And how many names?" She continued wearily, not even realizing where the question came from.

Solas watched her intensely, but his voice remained light. "No more than you have," he answered with a tiny bow of his head, "Inquisitor, Herald of Andraste, Ellana of the clan Lavellan, ma lethallan." Solas recited her titles, each one with the appropriate intonation, ending his sentence in the most affectionate whisper.

Her eyes widened at him. He was correct again, and he avoided the direct answering again. And she could do nothing with that.

"At least you know all of mine," she muttered spitefully.

"Do I now?" Solas stepped closer to her, leaving only a couple of inches between them, but not touching her. His eyes were still locked on hers, and he turned his head down to look at her. Ellana, on the other hand, looked up hesitantly, overwhelmed by his proximity, suddenly wishing to flee, but unable to move. "I have yet to learn the name you like to be called when approached… most closely." He whispered, and his breath was hot on her face.

She blushed severely, but could not hide her grin. "We will have to find that out together, as I have not been… approached that way." She just had to say it, had to see his reaction.

"Oh." Came his incoherent reply. Her words seemed to go down to his soul, and his eyes bore into her very being, burning the path of sweet suffering to her aching heart, claiming the every inch of that pass as his own. Those were the eyes from the dream, Ellana realized, as she was trembling with excitement, fear, and desire all at once. It had been really him. It had happened.

No one of them dared to cross the little space that was left between them. The air felt so thick, so tense around them, and the breathing became an exhausting task. Everywhere around was him. Solas dominated the place, filling it with his presence. He enjoyed the awed look on her face; his grin became wider, as he showed her his perfectly shaped canines. Ellana shivered at the very primal expression of his menacing smile, the feeling of his teeth on her jawline still so fresh in her memory.

He was clawing on her skin from the inside; she was set ablaze, her body almost exploding from that hot-blooded overcharge. The Anchor was pulsating so fast, that it seemed the glowing never stopped. He was too much. She could not bear it much longer.

Ellana was the one to yield first, the one to break the eye contact as she turned around abruptly. She did not walk away though. Once she was facing her back to him, the tightness in her chest eased down, and she let herself gasp for air.

Behind her Solas watched her shoulders rise and fall a bit, as he heard her worked up breathing. When she escaped his gaze, he also felt the turmoil in his heart settle down. The night air surrounded him, and he was Solas again. He had lost control again. Her spirit being so bright and strong, reinforced with the old magic of the Anchor, he could so effortlessly forget that she was mortal. The shameful regret filled his heart as continued to examine her – she looked so tired, so overwhelmed, so lost. Yet, she had resisted. She had the strength to evade him, and she had born his demanding stare quite long. Not many mortals he had met who could withstand his desire penetrating them. Much less whom he did truly desire.

After a while Ellana seemed to gain her composure. Nevertheless she remained as she was, not willing to meet his eyes again.

"Can you answer at least one of my questions honestly?" She asked finally, her voice shaky and worn out.

He could not refuse her. That girl had shown so much bravery facing him in the fullness of his might. She did not falter, and did not beg. She only asked him the truth for the truth, as an equal. Who would cherish her rebel vigor if not him? She had earned the answer. 'Ask wisely, Inquisitor,' he thought.

"Ask away." He urged her, his voice steady and determined.

"This. Us. Are you even interested?" That was the most important thing to her at the moment.

Solas could not suppress a small sigh escaping his lips. One part of him was soothed with her choosing such a harmless question. But the other part screamed in disappointment. He had been so close to confessing, and now he had lost the chance.

Still he had promised her the truth. And when he promised, which was almost never, he kept his promises.

"I am." He answered slowly; as if still unsure he should tell her. "I'm not certain it is a good idea, though. It could lead to trouble." He warned her unhappily.

She spurned around to look at him, her eyes so bright and happy, that he envied her.

"I will risk it." She vowed enthusiastically. "If you will." She added hastily.

"I will need to think. There are… considerations." The promise fulfilled he was all evasive with his replies once again.

Ellana only smiled at him. "Take all the time you want, vhenan'lin."

If he had the time he wanted he would spend it with her, Solas thought grimly. But she was so sweet and tender that the tide of her uncontrolled hopefulness brushed his soul lightly.

"Thank you." He replied caringly. She was too kind to him.

She laughed shortly, darting her mirthful eyes at him. "Oh, you will." She teased him, her voice a song to his ears. "And mind you," she measured him with a challenging look, "if your 'trouble' is anything like you did today… If you keep that up, you may call me as you like."

AN: Few translations:

Ma emma lethallan/lethallin - you are my kin

Vhenan'lin - heart-blood, meaning the most important thing in your life

Thank you for reading. It means a lot to me, honestly.