TW: This chapter contains some mildly dubious consent.

Chapter 15: Teethmarks

Iron Bull lounged by the fire, enjoying the smoky smell and the mountain air and his full belly. It had been a long day moving down the mountain from Skyhold, and he hated riding horses - always felt like they would break under his weight, even the big warhorses, and they made his ass hurt. He was glad to be sitting still now, and they'd killed and skinned a ram for dinner, and the sky was clear. It was a good evening.

Varric was in his tent, having stomped in there muttering something about a missing cog and recalibrating Bianca and that he wasn't to be bothered until his baby was fixed. Errol and Cole were just past the end of the tents in a field; he was sitting cross-legged with his ridiculous hat off and a confused look on his face, and she was plaiting flowers into a crown with her tongue poking out of the corner of her mouth, saying something that Iron Bull couldn't hear. She was close with the weird spirit kid, an instant connection that was a little unnerving, but he was okay with it. It humanized Cole and made people less likely to see him as a demon.

Solas sat just to Iron Bull's right, reading, his long fingers splayed across the back of some old tome. But Bull was quicker than people pegged him for, and he knew that Solas' eyes weren't moving and he hadn't turned a page in ten minutes; he was looking past the top of the book at Errol, who was laughing and placing the flower crown on Cole's head.

Yeah, the elf had a thing for Blondie. It had been apparent for a while now. They didn't talk much but Solas watched her a lot and she seemed to trust him more than she should, plus there was that whole "teaching her in the Fade" thing. Bull figured they saw each other a lot more than was visible to the rest of them. Maybe even had something going on in dream-land, but he doubted it. There was too much tension in the air for that to be the case, most of it on Solas' side. Solas wanted it, bad, and he wasn't getting it.

Unfortunately for him, Iron Bull didn't like him very much. The elf had said a few very nasty things about the Qun - mindless animals was the phrase he had used in one of their more recent chats. Bull had always taken care to be civil, if only for Errol's sake, but he didn't like anyone talking shit about his people or his way of life. At least when Errol asked questions she was respectful, fascinated even. But Solas was an ass about it.

Iron Bull leaned back and grinned. Yeah, he deserved this.

"She gets along with the kid all right," he said idly, and Solas jumped.

"Oh, I, yes, they do seem to be kindred spirits," he said, putting down his book. Over in the field, Cole was touching the flowers in his hair curiously and she batted his hands away, then held one up to his nose so he could breathe in its scent. Cole smiled, delighted. "It's helping him accommodate to this world."

Time to strike. "Too bad he's asexual. They'd be cute together." He sighed. "I guess it's gonna have to fall on me then after all."

Solas looked at him sharply. "Excuse me?"

Bull settled back contemplatively. "The way I figure it, she's been around all these months and still hasn't picked anyone. That can't be healthy. I ought'a help out." He chuckled. "Besides, I bet she's a wildcat in the sack."

"Haven't you grown tired of bedding everything that moves?" Solas snapped. His eyes were narrowed, his back very straight.

Iron Bull shrugged lazily. "Haven't bedded her yet, despite what the rumors might say. Should be easy enough. She's so tightly wound, it'll be real simple once I actually start to try."

"She's not one of your tavern wenches," Solas said in a voice that could freeze hell.

Bull tapped his temple. "Tavern wench or Inquisitor, people are people. I'm Ben-Hassrath, remember? I can see what people want. And her? She's just dying for someone to take control. She'll be happy, I'll be happy, the Inquisition will be happy. I'll be doing all of you a great service. Really, I should get a medal. She'll certainly be burning things a lot less."

Solas stood abruptly. "You'll do no such thing," he hissed.

Iron Bull held up his hands. "Hey, I won't force myself on her. We're all consenting adults here."

"She is not interested in you."

Iron Bull looked up at the enraged mage as if he didn't have a care in the world. "Not yet, maybe. I can be very persuasive. I'm good at reading people, knowing what they want to hear, how they want to be touched… a few of the right words, an innocent brush on the arm or hip, and she'll be putty in my hands. You'll see. You don't… have a problem with that, do you, Solas? I figured you'd only be interested in elves… or your own face in the mirror."

Solas bent forward, so that they were eye-to-eye. "The Iron Bull," he said, suddenly very calm. "I will say this once, as your friend. If you ever speak of our Inquisitor like that again, I will send a demon to you as you sleep, and you will find yourself unable to wake from your most terrifying nightmares." His eyes were colder than Iron Bull had ever seen them; for a moment, it was almost like he was a different person, older and darker and more. "I hope we understand each other."

He then turned on his heel and walked away.

Iron Bull sat there and shook his head. "Damn," he muttered, scratching his face. "He doesn't just want to fuck her. He actually—"

He wasn't sure what the word was; he had almost said love, but there was something else, hard and possessive, in the elf's ice-blue gaze. Iron Bull hoped he hadn't, as Errol sometimes said, just opened a whole can of worms. Whatever that meant. Shit. It was time for a drink.

Whatever Errol had expected to be holding Cole back, it wasn't this.

"You killed me!" he screamed, and for the first time she heard tears clogging his throat. He had the man by the hair, throat exposed, like he was about to cut it. "You forgot! You locked me in the dungeon in the Spire and you forgot, and I died in the dark!"

Her hands flew to her mouth. Oh, Cole.

The man was running away now and Cole was flailing his arms at Varric and Solas. "He killed me, he killed me! That's why it doesn't work! He killed me and I have to kill him back!"

"Cole," Errol murmured, coming up behind him, and he turned and threw his arms around her.

"You understand," he said plaintively. "You understand. You'd kill him too, like you killed Alexius."

She cringed at that. "But you're better than me, Cole," she said, gently disengaging herself from him. "You're Compassion, remember? I'm just Errol."

"The Owl, the Wanderer, the Otherworlder, the Beating Heart," he said. "Alone like me, made like me. You're supposed to understand."

"I do," she said, blinking back tears. "I just don't want you to regret like I do. It will eat you alive inside. Look inside me and tell me that's not true."

He dropped his head. "But what do I do? He killed me."

Solas stepped forward. "Cole, this man cannot have killed you. You are a spirit. You have not even possessed a body."

Cole closed his eyes. "A broken body, bloody, banged on the stone cell, guts gripping in the dark dank, a captured apostate. They threw him in the dungeon in the Spire at Val Royeaux. They forgot about him. He starved to death. I came through to help… and I couldn't. So I became him. Cole."

Errol took his hand. It was traumatic enough being torn from her body and reforming when she came here. She couldn't imagine what he had been through, taking on the image and memories of a dead man.

"However you started, you're Cole now," she said softly. "And we're all glad you're here."

He leaned on her. "And you're Errol. My job is to make them forget."

She frowned. "Right now your job is to take care of yourself. Without killing anyone."

"I… I don't know how."

She looked at Solas and Varric. Iron Bull had wandered ahead and was casually holding the man by the back of his coat while he dangled and squealed, waiting for them to make up their minds. "Guys? A little help?"

"Cole is a spirit," Solas said immediately, giving her a significant look. "The death of the real Cole wounded him, perverted him from his purpose. To regain that part of himself, he must forgive."

"Come on," Varric said, rolling his eyes. "You don't just forgive someone killing you."

"You don't," Solas said. "A spirit can."

"Is there another option?" Errol asked.

"The kid's angry, he needs to work through it," Varric said.

"A spirit does not work through emotions, it embodies them," Solas insisted. "At least the kind of spirit that Cole is."

"But he isn't a spirit, is he? He made himself human, and humans change. They get hurt, and they heal. He needs to work it out like a person."

"Wait, are you really saying that a spirit can become a human?" she asked, trying to keep the excitement out of her voice. She saw Solas shoot her a glare.

"It seems logical," Varric said.

"You are the least qualified person to be opining on the inner workings of spirits, child of the stone," Solas said. "You cannot even dream."

"Low blow, Solas," Errol said, and he narrowed his eyes at her.

"I assume you want to go along with this insane plan? You would alter the essence of what he is?"

Varric spoke again. "He did that to himself when he left the Fade. I'm just helping him survive it."

Solas looked at Errol's face and shook his head. "Why am I not surprised," he said, and sighed.

"Come on, Cole," she said, motioning toward Varric. He clutched her hand even tighter.

"You won't leave me?" he asked wildly, sweat shining on his brow.

She laced her fingers in his. "Of course not. Let's go."

They were long past the confrontation, the town far behind them, walking their horses through a field in the last of the warm afternoon light. Cole had finally stopped limping and was walking straight again, though he never strayed from her side, staying close to his fellow spirit like she was a security blanket. Errol, for her part, was distracting herself from the events of the day by idly reliving her last moments with Cullen and occasionally plucking flowers from the tall grass.

"How are you feeling?" she asked when he seemed ready to talk, touching his shoulder. He leaned into her like a cat, nuzzling her arm.

"It hurts, but its a good hurt. I'm more real now."

She smiled, but it was pained. "I'm happy for you, Cole."

"You're jealous. You shouldn't be. You're different than me, that's all. Even though I changed, and people remember me now, I can still make them forget things."

She put her arm around him and he sighed in contentment.

"What are you two crazy kids talking about?" Varric asked, approaching them. He eyed their position. "Sunshine, I think you've adopted a stray."

"I'll feed him and take care of him," she said solemnly. "And give him daily brushings."

Iron Bull let out a snort. He was leading four horses in one hand with ease. "Why doesn't anyone ever say that about me?"

She smiled vaguely, and Varric elbowed her in the waist. "What's got you so distracted? We just did a pretty good thing for the kid. You should be proud."

"She's not thinking about that right now," Cole mumbled. "Chess pieces rolling across the floor, his tongue in my mouth, Maker, you taste so good, he tastes good too, I want him to taste all of me."

Errol stiffened and stepped away from him, her cheeks flushed. "That's enough, Cole! We talked about looking into people's heads!"

Iron Bull laughed, loudly, and for some reason looked at Solas, whose face had drained of blood. "Nice job, Boss!"

Varric shook his head and chuckled. "Is this from that night you were in Curly's rooms? You two have certainly been eyeing each other long enough."

"What? No! Nothing happened! It was raining and — we didn't— we just kissed!" she sputtered, her face bright red.

"Yes, kisses, hot and needy, but she wanted more and it didn't happen and the frustration is boiling, blistering, an itch she can't scratch," Cole continued blithely, his face tilted toward the sky. Errol turned and smacked him upside the head, sending his hat flying.

"I SAID THAT'S ENOUGH, COLE!"

He rubbed his head and looked at her with wounded eyes. "But that's what you were thinking about!" he said plaintively. "You were thinking about it so loudly!"

Varric and Bull nearly doubled over they were laughing so hard.

Solas was silent, his face so still it was like it was made of stone. He just kept walking like they weren't even there, leading his horse placidly. Errol found that she couldn't look at him. She didn't want him to find out this way. Actually, a small part of her hadn't wanted him to find out at all, at least not until this… thing she had with Cullen was formalized. She didn't know where she and Cullen stood, only that they were going to talk. She hadn't told him the truth about herself, and she hadn't decided if she was going to, and by merit of that fact alone she wasn't sure if the relationship would continue, no matter how much she wanted it.

She sighed, bending for Cole's fallen hat and putting it back on his head. Boys were confusing.

"Will I become confusing now too?" he asked her, and she laughed a little.

"Cole, I'm sure someday you'll make some girl very unhappy. I say that in the best way possible."

"I don't understand. You're not happy now."

She snuck a glance at Solas and quickly looked away. "My life is very, very complicated. Let's change the subject. Maybe actually ride these horses instead of walking them before it gets dark?"

The tents were set, the fires burning, and dinner was busy being digested. Errol sat on a log next to the fire, slowly turning Cole's now-useless amulet around in her hands.

"Considering wearing it yourself?"

She started. "I… didn't think you'd be talking to me anytime soon."

Solas sat down next to her on the log; there wasn't much room, and the whole of his thigh touched hers. "Why ever not?"

"I, uh… no reason," Errol said dumbly. She returned her focus to the amulet in her hands. "Would it work on me? If that… situation we discussed happens, then that means someone might be able to bind me, and that would be… bad."

"You mean if your human body dies in your world," he said. "It's all right, they're not within hearing distance."

"Yes," she said sharply. He was being very cold, and despite his pretending she knew he was upset. "Obviously."

"No."

"No what?"

"No, this talisman would not work on you. As I attempted to say many, many times before, you are not a spirit like Cole. You are not a concept. You are a full, nuanced mind made of the Fade. There is a difference."

"But I could still be bound."

He stared into the fire for a moment before nodding. "Hypothetically, should your human body die, yes, you could, and it would be catastrophic. You wield a power much greater than Cole's, and I'm not just speaking of the Anchor."

Errol sighed and placed the amulet gently on the ground. "More bad news."

"Not necessarily. I do know of a way to protect you. Very, very old protection magic, once granted by our gods. Thus marked, it would place them under the mantle of that god - not as a slave, not compelled to do anything, but marked as special, a protected one. It was given very rarely. The stories go that the god would be able to find them whenever desired, to aid them in their time of need."

"But your gods are all gone."

"True, so you should have no worries over pleasing some ancient being. However, magic is magic, and their knowledge still lingers in the deepest reaches of the Fade."

She looked at him skeptically. "And you just… happened to find this?"

He met her gaze evenly. "I spend a lot of time in the Fade, and I'm older than I look."

"That I guessed. How old are you, exactly?"

"Old enough to know that is a very rude question."

"So, like… really, really old."

"Do you wish to be protected or not, Errol?"

She twisted her mouth. This plan rubbed her the wrong way. There were too many unanswered questions, but the fear of being bound scared her more. "This is the only way?"

"To my knowledge, yes. Normal amulets and talismans won't work on you. You're a… special case."

"That's putting it lightly." She dug into the dirt with the toe of her boot, contemplating, then finally nodded. "Okay, fine, do it. Magical barrier me. I won't be turned into a demon just because my parents decide to take me off life support." She paused. "Just one more sentence I never expected to say."

He stood and looked up. "The moon is in the right position. We can go now. Come."

"Now? Go where?" But he was already striding into the forest beyond the edge of the camp, and there was something off about his gait, the way he held his hands, that told her he was very, very upset.

Errol swallowed. Wolves howled in the distance. Maybe this wasn't such a great idea after all.

She followed him deep into the forest. He moved fast, always just within sight, slipping through the trees, his figure a wisp of light in the darkness. When he finally stopped, she approached him hesitantly.

"Solas." When he didn't answer she reached out and tentatively touched his arm. "I know you're… upset with me."

"Upset?" he asked, and his voice made her uneasy. "Why would I be upset?"

So he was going to make her say it? "You know, that whole thing with me and C—"

He struck faster than should have been possible, grabbing her wrist and spinning her around so that she was pinned to a tree. "I would advise you not to say that name to me, Inquisitor," he said softly. His face was very close to hers. "What you did was irresponsible, but I am willing to overlook it."

She glared at him, refusing to be intimidated. "You have no right to call my actions irresponsible just because you don't like them."

His grip on her wrist tightened. "Have you told him what you are?" She blanched, and he had his answer. "No, of course not. Do you think that the Commander, an ex-templar who has just recently learned to treat mages as people, would accept a spirit as his lover? Do you think he would look at you the same, love you, knowing your true nature? Are you really that foolish? Or did you intend to lie to him for eternity, hoping he would never notice that you don't age? Your interest in Cullen is simply an extension of your obsession with being human again. It can come to nothing."

"I… I…" she stuttered, noticing that the hand that wasn't gripping her wrist was on her waist, fingers digging into the soft flesh. "Cole was able to become more human."

He laughed, harshly. "Ah yes, we haven't even touched on you using Cole as your experiment! You made him more human not because it was the best thing for him but because you want to be more human. When will you understand that you are not like him? You can't deny your nature. You will change, but it will not be to regress back to a weak human form. You will only become more and more like a spirit. It's a beautiful thing, why do you run from it?"

She tried to look intimidating, but it was hard when she was pinned to a tree. Somewhere in her mind she also realized that she wasn't struggling or pushing him off. "Stop telling me how to feel."

"Someone must, because you clearly can't make up your own mind." He moved his hand from her wrist and wound his fingers through her hair, then tilted her head back. She gasped.

"What are you doing?"

"You told me to come and get you in the real world. I'm only doing as you ordered."

"Solas, things have—"

He brought his mouth down to her ear. "Listen to your teacher for once," he growled, and then kissed her, hard.

She wasn't an elf this time, there were no sensitive ears to manipulate, but she found herself drowning in him anyway. She couldn't deny the attraction - it was always there, bubbling under the surface despite her anger. Still, she fought it even as she grew damningly wet, even as she whimpered despite herself, keeping her arms stiff at her sides when they wanted to clutch at his shoulders, trying not to give in to his lips as they expertly worked their way over hers.

He moved his mouth to the pulse point on her neck and she felt it flutter under his lips. "Now you are too good at putting up barriers," he murmured, trailing his hands down her sides. "I am doing this for you, vhenan. Give in."

"Doing this… for me?" she rasped. There was magic tingling along her skin now and sparking at her most sensitive points, making it hard to think. It brushed against her nipples, and spectral hands slipped silkily beneath her clothing. A slow pulse thrummed deep in the ache between her thighs until she was unable to keep her hands from pulling him closer, sliding one leg between his, panting, mewling, rutting against him, mind blank except for the singular need for friction. "You're doing this… to me. It's not… right."

"You and I, we're beyond wrong and right," he said into her neck. "Say yes, Errol."

"Yes," she breathed, as he sucked at the crook of her neck and shoulder. Then, he bit it, a deep, animal bite.

The magic went wild, and she orgasmed so hard that her vision went white. His teeth were sharper than they should have been, and they sank through her skin with ease, drawing blood, which he quickly laved with his tongue.

Errol shuddered as he lapped up the blood. It didn't hurt; in fact it continued to send pleasurable tingles down to her core, and she noticed that the more he licked it the more it healed, until it was smooth scar tissue more sensitive than her elf-ears had been.

When the blood was all gone he lifted his head, his eyes hazy and sated, his body still pressing hers against the tree. He ran his thumb gently along his handiwork and made a small sound of approval.

Errol's throat was very dry. "What… what did you just do?"

"Gave you the mark we discussed."

"I… you…" She swallowed, hard. "I didn't know it was a… sex thing."

"I told you that the ancient gods only gave it to a select few," he purred, still tracing the mark with his fingers and smiling as her breathing grew ragged. "It was made to protect their lovers."

"You could have… told me that," she gasped.

"Would you have agreed to it had you known?"

"… probably not." He pressed a bit harder on the mark and she had to bite her lip to keep from crying out in pleasure. "Solas, you shouldn't—"

He relented, stepping back and moving his hand from the bite mark to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. "Cullen is not good for you, Errol. He will not accept you as you are."

She glared at him. "You don't get to choose who I date, and you certainly don't get to magic your way into my pants whenever you feel like it."

"I am thoroughly chastised," he said, brushing his thumb across her lower lip. She batted his hand away.

"You are not. And you wonder why I think you're an ass."

He sighed. "I cannot manipulate what isn't already there. I did not drug you. The magic heightened the pre-existing arousal, which I needed for the spell to work. You could still have said no, pushed me aside, chosen logic over emotion. You didn't. You feel guilty, but you do have feelings for me, and strong ones at that."

Errol looked away. She couldn't argue with the truth. She hated it, but the turned on, highly frustrated part of her still just wanted to grab him and let him take her right there against the tree, and the worst part was she knew he knew it. "Just… don't do it again."

He raised an eyebrow. "What if you ask me to?"

"I won't."

He turned and started to walk back to the camp, his bare feet silent against the forest floor. "Never say never."