A/N: A big update this time as this chapter back when I wrote it just wouldn't stop.

Eight

Frilly Cakes and Lies

At midday the Exalted Council broke for recess and Ellana stumbled out of the pavilion with her head swimming in a thick fog of irritation and thirst. The day was quickly growing oppressively hot and humid, making her thick formalwear feel heavy and suffocating. Bodyguards accompanied her like twin shadows, their gaits stiff and their backs ramrod straight. Ellana led them through the now familiar corridors to the study where she'd been meeting in private with her advisors regarding the Qunari plot.

The bodyguards opened the door for her but stayed outside as she entered. Inside the study she saw a tray with ice water and tea had been laid out along with a platter of lunch dishes—pastas smothered in fragrant cheeses and dessert with Val Royeaux's famous little frilly cakes. She almost groaned with relief, her mouth instantly flooding with saliva. Scattered around the table she also saw Josephine, Leliana, Cullen, and a newcomer, an elven woman in a simple blue-gray dress waiting for her.

"Inquisitor," Josephine greeted her, motioning to the food and drink at the table. "I know you must be famished, but I hoped we might have a word."

Peeling her attention away from the frilly little cakes, Ellana looked to where Josephine stood beside the unfamiliar elven woman. "Yes?"

"Inquisitor, may I introduce Inan," Josephine said, motioning to the elven woman who dropped into a bow from the waist.

"Your Worship," Inan said.

"Pleased to meet you," Ellana said with a nod before sneaking another longing look at the frilly cakes on the table. Leliana was standing beside the window opposite her, a little smile on her lips as she followed Ellana's gaze knowingly. Cullen was off to Ellana's right, standing stiff as if mildly uncomfortable. What's up with the commander? She wondered.

"Inan is a healer," Josephine explained, clearing her throat to regain Ellana's focus. "I thought you might wish to have a physician on hand…considering." The ambassador smiled graciously to overcome her embarrassment as they skirted around the topic of Ellana's pregnancy. The elven healer was already sizing Ellana up with an appraising eye that lingered at her slim waist.

Now Ellana understood Cullen's discomfort as the only man in the room. She almost smirked with humor but kept her expression neutral as she dismissed the healer, promising to call on her later…after she'd asked Solas if Inan was trustworthy.

Once she and her advisors heard the door to the study open and close, signaling that they were at last alone, Ellana moved to eat. She kept swallowing mouthfuls of spit, her stomach gnawing on itself with impatience. At least right now she wasn't feeling nauseous. She scooped pasta onto her plate, eyes widening at the stringy cheeses. The clan never ate food this rich and usually Ellana didn't either but the smell was heavenly.

Cullen sighed suddenly, shaking his head. "I'll come right out with it, Inquisitor. I don't approve of this operation in this Crossroads. And…" He rubbed at his neck with one hand, averting his gaze as if suddenly bashful. "…I don't trust Solas."

Ellana's enthusiastic work with the spoon in the pasta slowed as she stared at her commander. "I'm listening," she said, trying to keep her face open and encouraging.

"Divine Victoria told me he cast a spell yesterday that she's never seen before," Cullen explained, gesturing with his hands to emphasize. "I understand he has a remarkably different background from any Circle mage, but what I find disconcerting is that we had not seen this before."

"I agree," Leliana added with a nod in Cullen's direction. "From what I heard the spell was most impressive, too." She asked Ellana, "Did you see it, Inquisitor?"

"I did," she replied. They were trying to turn her suspicions, convince her to either open to them with any additional information Solas had given her, or they merely wanted to warn her against trusting him. Ellana used her food as a distraction, shoveling a few bites into her mouth and closing her eyes with pleasure at the burst of flavor over her tongue.

"Did you not think it unusual?" Leliana prodded.

She half-shrugged, feigning nonchalance while frantically digging through her mind for a way to defuse her advisors' distrust. Don't reveal that your lover's the Dread Wolf kept repeating inside her head unhelpfully. As soon as she'd swallowed her latest mouthful she said, "Solas spent months with the sentinel elves. He's probably learned a few new spells from them. Whatever it was, I'm glad for it because it took out a Qunari spearman before he could harm Cassandra."

Cullen squirmed, shifting his position, always uncomfortable at the prospect of new and dangerous magic that was without control. "While I appreciate that he was obviously fighting on our side, I still have reservations about this operation in the Crossroads."

Ellana arched an eyebrow, unable to contain her annoyance now. "Is it the operation in the Crossroads, Commander, or is it the Inquisition mages?" That morning she had ordered a group of mages who'd remained with the Inquisition to fight the Qunari in the Crossroads under Dorian and Solas' command. They'd left through the eluvian hours ago, but they would return by nightfall if all went according to plan.

Cullen scowled. "Inquisitor, please see reason…"

Leliana cut in, shooting Cullen a glare. "What the commander is trying to say is we cannot help but be concerned with what's been happening. We all trust your judgment and Solas has been a valuable member of the Inquisition for three years now, but he is…something of a mystery to us." She let out a little huff, her shoulders slumping. "I am sorry, but I took the liberty of sending my scouts to investigate what little I do know of Solas' background and…"

Oh no, Ellana thought and knew her face had revealed her as Leliana broke off, watching her.

"You already know, don't you?" Leliana asked.

"What did you find?" Josephine asked from her side of the table, off to Ellana's left. Apparently Leliana hadn't briefed the ambassador as she looked alarmed, her eyes wide and her lips parted as she stared at the others.

Cullen, for his part, wore a deep frown and stared at the food on the table as if the frilly cakes had insulted his honor. Ellana shoveled more food in her mouth, cursing herself for being so easy to read.

Leliana turned her head, speaking to Josephine. "My scouts uncovered the village Solas told us he was from but it was ruins and had been so for centuries."

"More lies," Cullen said, snarling. "But why?"

Ellana coughed, choking on a noodle and setting her plate down as she scrambled, reaching for the pitcher of ice water to pour herself a glass. After she'd finished drinking she caught her breath and reluctantly faced her advisors, all three of whom were watching and waiting on her reaction. Their knowing gazes skipped over her and Ellana felt her cheeks heat up. Were they wondering if she'd willingly blinded herself to her lover's lies, or did they suspect she knew the answers and withheld them to the Inquisition's detriment? How long until they'd turn on her? She couldn't help but think that if she'd been human they'd be less upset, more inclined to allow her to maintain Solas' privacy.

"I suggest we ask Solas about this," Ellana said, sighing. "But I'd like to reiterate that whatever Solas' reasons are, he has served us for years now and continues to do so willingly. He came to us a lone apostate when Haven was a Chantry stronghold that would have locked him in a Circle tower at any other time."

She shook her head, glaring at each of them in turn. "He's told me that before I woke up Cassandra threatened his life. I'm sure he suspected he'd be pursued if he did flee and had given you any hint as to where to search." Rash anger made her sweat as she went on. "And look how fast you fall to doubting him! As if he's not the same man who saved my life at Haven and helped us close the Breach and kill Corypheus."

"But he could have been honest with us once Corypheus was dead," Cullen insisted with a sideways slash of his hand. Leliana nodded in agreement.

"And risk getting himself locked in a Circle tower or kicked out?" Ellana asked, brow knitting. "Solas has not been entirely truthful with us, no, but that doesn't mean he is no longer worthy of our trust and respect." Despite her own words and passionate defense of him, Ellana felt a bubble of dark amusement underlying it all. What would her Keeper say if she could hear one of her hunters advising humans to trust the Dread Wolf?

Leliana had averted her gaze, her mouth twisting with some unreadable, negative emotion. Cullen's expression held traces of remorse and embarrassment and he'd fallen to rubbing one hand at the back of his neck again.

Josephine said, "I agree with you, Inquisitor. Solas has been nothing but helpful. Surely we can afford more trust than this after three years?"

"Forgive me, Inquisitor," Cullen said. "I meant nothing by it."

Leliana smiled, the same coy look she'd given Solas when she knew he'd been lying yesterday morning. "You're right, Inquisitor. Of course."

Great, Ellana thought and started eating again to keep herself from frowning with disappointment.

The guardian spirits of Revasan prowled around the tower, restless and watchful even though Solas had already given them his secret greeting to make them stand down. Some of the mages who'd accompanied him were elven and likely understood a smattering of the words he used, but it was unavoidable. If he hadn't greeted the spirits properly they'd have attacked the mages with him—though they wouldn't harm Solas because they recognized him as the one who'd bound them so long ago.

They'd been slogging through Revasan, routing the Qunari who'd set up in the sanctuary. In his sleep the night before Solas had ordered Mathrel and Lyris to join in their assault and he'd met up with them outside the mirror leading to Revasan that very morning. He could feel Dorian and the other mages inspecting him and these new barefaced elves with suspicion or curiosity, seeing the way the two arcane warriors deferred to him like the loyal soldiers they were.

Counting Dorian, Ellana had sent six mages to aid in the Qunari cleanup. Two were elven, the rest humans. They stood around the tower now, whispering with wonder at the distant, empty hills and the lush forest as they ate and drank from trail rations. A few of them took lyrium infusions for the big push to come when they moved on the central sanctuary situated on the lake. Sentinel elves had sabotaged the Qunari on the lake the previous day, ensuring they no longer had gaatlok canons to fire on the towers, but there were still plenty of warriors entrenched there.

Much to Solas' annoyance, Dorian seemed glued to him like his shadow, refusing to give him any chance to speak alone with Mathrel or Lyris. "This is quite the place you've found here," he said with his usual blend of humor and witty snobbery. "A bit rustic, but charming nonetheless. I especially like the magical murals. I'd hire the designer to decorate—if he weren't ages dead, of course."

She, Solas corrected him internally. And of course the artist, Lanya, was still alive, though he could never reveal that to Dorian. Solas ignored Dorian's blathering, surveying the lake with the island at its center in the distance with narrowed eyes. Millennia ago Solas had built this place, shaping the real world with his will and the help of the Fade. Now that past life seemed dreamlike, as if he'd imagined it or watched it in memories in the Fade.

Lyris and Mathrel lingered behind him, tense and watchful, while Dorian stood to his left with his arms crossed and picking at his manicured nails. The wind whipped by them, tugging at their clothes and whistling in a mournful wail.

"So," Dorian said, looking behind Solas, his voice bored. "You both are sentinel elves? You're not marked like the Dalish. Weren't the elves at the temple of Mythal marked?"

Solas didn't need to see the arcane warriors' expressions to know they'd be scowling at Dorian, unamused and uninterested in his questions. Sure enough he heard Mathrel's armor clink as he shifted his posture and spat off the edge of the tower, cursing in elven and then adding, "Shem."

"Ooookay," Dorian drawled with a disgusted sigh. "Solas, how long have you been with this lot? Can't you teach them some manners? Do they speak Common at all?"

"They do indeed," Solas replied, flashing a crooked, dry smile. "But you must remember, they have had little interaction with humans."

"How did you come to lead them?" Dorian asked, arching an eyebrow.

A very good, very dangerous question, Tevinter. He glanced at Dorian, smiling as open and friendly as he could manage. "We have other matters requiring our attention."

Dorian let out a quick, high-pitched laugh. "You're not going to tell me, are you?"

Squaring his shoulders and tucking his hands behind his back, Solas said, "Call the others. It's time we took the sanctuary."

"What sort of sanctuary is this place, anyway? Why use it as your base of operations?" Dorian asked, both his voice and his expression irritable. "And why keep the Inquisitor away from this place?"

"Your understanding is not required," Solas retorted, cold and firm.

"Yes," Dorian growled. "I've noticed." His brown eyes flicked to Lyris and Mathrel. "Fortunately for me, I am not one of your little minions the way these two are. The Inquisitor charged us both with leading the Inquisition mages here. So, unless you start playing nice I'm going to take my merry band mages and head back. You can give my regards to the Qunari on the lake. Try not to take one of their horns through the belly. It'd be a pity to stain the place."

Clenching his jaw, Solas restrained the angry words crouched on the tip of his tongue and instead dipped his chin to acknowledge Dorian's power over the situation. "Very well—this is a sanctuary for elven refugees fleeing a war. That is all I know."

"The war with the Imperium?" Dorian asked, gazing with renewed interest at the tower.

Mathrel cursed again and spat, drawing a look of revulsion from Dorian.

"A civil war," Solas answered. "At least, that is what I have gathered from Abelas and the memories in the Fade here." He motioned up the short stair to where the Fen'Harel mural waited, glimmering and green in the afternoon sunlight. "Now, if you're satisfied, there is work to be done. Please call the others."

"Quite," Dorian grumbled, shooting Solas a glare before he whipped on his heel and strode to gather the others.

With the Tevinter mage's back turned, Solas strode up the stairs and quickly deactivated the mural, banishing it. The arcane warriors followed, silent and brooding. He had not had a chance to reveal to them any of the details of his alliance with the Inquisition, though he'd warned all of the elves serving him in the Crossroads via their dreams not to address him as Fen'Harel unless alone. Mathrel and Lyris were some of his closest allies—friends as much as soldiers, really—but their long background with him meant they accepted vagueness and silence as second nature to him and vital for the safety of their plans. He owed them no explanations beyond the necessary.

Still, he found himself wanting to reassure them, Lyris in particular, that he'd secured Ellana's support and disclosed his identity. Such news, though unnecessary for obedience, would bolster his position, even if they considered Ellana beneath them as a non-Elvhenan elf. They knew the Inquisition would prove a powerful ally and that Fen'Harel had juggled such alliances before, moving freely between different forces.

Not to mention if a modern elf—a Dalish elf—could choose to follow the Dread Wolf…who wouldn't? Among elves, anyway.

Dorian reappeared, his expression tight and grim with the nearness of battle. The Inquisition mages stood behind him, stoic and tense.

"Lyris and Mathrel will lead," Solas said and motioned through the entry and down the short stair to the eluvian. "Dorian and I will follow. Be wary, the Qunari here employ mages as well."

The arcane warriors pivoted and made their way to the mirror, passing through it with none of the caution Solas had seen from the Inquisition mages. Solas feigned less comfort with the mirror as he stepped through it, walking a tad slower and with one hand out as if to prevent himself from falling or stumbling.

Then he was on the other side of the shattered bridge stretching across the lake, midday sun glaring into his eyes from a different direction now. Five Qunari roared and shouted in Qunlat just ahead where the stone of the bridge changed to grass as it met the island in the lake. Lyris and Mathrel were already cutting into one of the warriors with their spectral blades, whipping and dodging in a Fade stepping dance. The sight made his heart pound, a feral grin spreading over his lips at the ancient memories of Elvhen glory. These tactics would not be forgotten…

He cast a barrier over them and Fade stepped forward, flinging fireballs before he'd even exited the lunge. Three of the advancing Qunari went down while Mathrel and Lyris quickly slaughtered the remaining two that'd reached them. This first skirmish was over before Dorian and the Inquisition mages had completely emerged through the eluvian, but a dozen more Qunari charged at them over the grass, spears and swords raised to fight.

The hodgepodge group of mixed mages swarmed over their opposition, with Lyris and Mathrel cutting down any who drew close enough to pose a threat. But archers fired from inside the sanctuary itself and eventually a barrier failed at just the wrong moment and a human mage took an arrow into his shoulder. He screeched with pain, stumbling to his knees.

Dorian immediately sprang to his side, stooping to help the other man. "A little help over here!"

With a grunt of effort, Solas summoned firestorm on the archers, bombarding them with a rain of fireballs. As the archers cowered and panicked, catching fire or trying to flee, Lyris and Mathrel charged forward. Their voices rang out in a war song in elven that made Solas' skin prickle with gooseflesh.

Yet more Qunari rallied ahead, rushing to meet them. Dorian and the Inquisition forces regrouped around their wounded comrade, covering for him as one of them knelt to remove the arrow and cast a healing spell over him. Solas hesitated, torn momentarily between helping the Inquisition mages and rushing forward.

He caught Dorian's irritated glance and heard the Tevinter mage shout, "Stop the sentinels! Those fools will get themselves killed!"

Before Dorian had even finished speaking, Solas Fade stepped forward, falling in behind Lyris and Mathrel. He cast a stronger barrier over their group as archers from wooden scaffolding inside the sanctuary began shooting at them. The first arrows bounced off the blue-green light of Solas' barrier. A spear followed, also glancing off it.

Lyris let out a shout, clenching her hand into a fist as she froze a Qunari warrior rushing at them and lunged with her spectral blade, shattering the horned giant. The Qunari behind the now dead frozen warrior raced past his fallen comrade but Solas hurled Fade stone at him, clobbering him with a spray of blood. He fell, dead.

"Fen'Harel vir'enasalin!" Lyris shouted, a war cry Solas hadn't heard since before the long sleep of uthenera. He hoped Dorian and the Inquisition mages hadn't caught the name amidst the other elven words.

As Lyris and Mathrel charged, Solas surged ahead with them, maintaining the barrier and casting a powerful veilstrike to knock the enemy archers from the scaffolding. Once they fell Solas ignited a fire mine over them, setting the archers ablaze before they could even stand upright.

As three warriors closed on them the three Elvhen split up, Fade stepping in multiple directions. Solas dashed right, stopping near a now empty scaffold as two spearmen roared in Qunlat and charged for him. He used a focused veilstrike to knock the first Qunari's spear away, then hurled Fade stone at the warrior who hadn't thrown his spear. He cast another enormous fireball at the last remaining spearman, reducing him to ash in only a few heartbeats. As always the Veil strangled his drawdown of magic, leaving him dizzy when he'd cast too much too quickly. As soon as the Qunari went down he shook his head, powering through it.

From the entrance he heard Dorian shout, "Take that, you filth!" A Qunari spearman, the last enemy left alive, had charged at Dorian but now turned tail and fled as the horror spell—the Tevinter's specialty—took hold of him.

Solas casually flung Fade stone at the fleeing Qunari, killing him in one blow. Dorian's chain lightning crackled in the immediate aftermath, loud in the echoing silence now that the last Qunari was dead. Huffing, Dorian called out, "Did you not see that that cretin was mine?"

"You were taking too long," Solas retorted. Surveying the Inquisition mages quickly, Solas saw the injured human was on his feet if a little haggard with lingering pain. The arrow had missed vital organs and arteries fortunately. "We should keep moving."

Dorian scoffed. "And here I thought perhaps we should stop for tea."

Mathrel grumbled again, glaring without amusement at Dorian's comment.

"I'm sorry, Solas," Dorian said, sniffing with a little wrinkle in his nose as he stared at Mathrel. "But I seem to have offended your…minion. Charming fellow. In addition to lacking manners he seems to have no sense of humor either."

"Venavis," Solas ordered Mathrel and the arcane warrior nodded, though his lips pinched in an unhappy line. Lyris smirked but stayed silent.

They strode onward, Solas leading now at a brisk pace. At the far end of the sanctuary a statue of the Dread Wolf waited with a half-circle wall covered in a mural. Several braziers lined the wall, only one of them currently lit with the blue-green glow of veilfire. Ahead the island and the sanctuary itself ended.

Solas knew a plaque on the wolf statue offered a hint at opening the secret passage below into the hidden armory where more Qunari had taken up residence, like spiders sheltering inside their webs. He tried to move quickly, hoping Dorian and the other Inquisition mages wouldn't pay much attention to the artwork on the wall. But he hadn't been lucky lately and wasn't the least bit surprised when Dorian immediately whistled with appreciation.

"This is remarkably well preserved," he commented, striding closer to have a better look, one hand at his chin.

"Fen'Harel," one of the elven Inquisition mages murmured, his eyes wide as he gazed between the statue and the mural. "The hahren of my alienage used to spin tales of the Dread Wolf."

Solas gnashed his teeth, forcing himself to pause as though with interest. The mural showed a man wearing a wolf's headdress, which hid his eyes and nose but didn't cover the smile over his lips. One hand stretched out to an elf marked with vallaslin standing ahead of him, the lines from his face flowing to the wolf's palm.

Solas' skin prickled with sweat, flushing hot and cold. Dorian was as clever as he was conceited, and unlike Vivienne he'd probably heard more elven tales throughout his upbringing, considering his Tevinter heritage. How could he not make the connection between this image of vallaslin removal and Solas, who'd removed Ellana's markings before they defeated Corpyheus? And, even worse, their experience with Corypheus had proven ancient beings from the distant past could survive to the present, one way or another.

Knowing he had to make some comment, Solas spoke, "Yes, I have seen this in the Fade. The vallaslin were slave markings."

"You removed the Inquisitor's tattoos," Dorian said and then twisted his head to look at Solas with narrowed eyes. "Where did you learn such a spell?"

Solas smiled, open and friendly, beyond guile and suspicion. "I encountered a human mage in the Free Marches who made a living removing ink and blemishes from the skin of anyone who could afford his services."

"How did you pay for it?" Dorian asked, shaking his head. "You were a wandering apostate. What currency did this man want? Sticks and stones? Mud and muck?" The doubt in Dorian's face was easy to read, though he passed it off with his usual humor. "Sexual favors?"

Mathrel cursed again in elven, snarling at the perceived insult.

Solas shot Mathrel another warning look before turning his glare to Dorian. "Hardly. The man was another apostate, running from Templars. He was a generous spirit and we exchanged knowledge. You may call that payment if you wish. He shared with me the spell I used on the Inquisitor and I taught him an elven mana cleanse incantation."

In truth Solas was mixing fact with fiction, with ease and familiarity that could only be achieved by those who'd spent most of their lives doing it. He had met an Elvhen middle class wanderer in the wilds after leaving his village and they had exchanged knowledge and stories. It just hadn't been in the Free Marches or in this current age. Also, the spell the wanderer had taught Solas was incomplete, only removing the binding power of the blood in the vallaslin. He'd had to improve the spell on his own until he could completely erase the markings altogether.

"Ah," Dorian said, nodding, some of his suspicion draining away.

"This is Fen'Harel removing the vallaslin?" the other elven Inquisition mage asked from behind Solas. "The vallaslin were slave markings? But…why would the Dread Wolf do this? He was a villain."

Mathrel and Lyris stood beside the brazier that would open the secret passage when lit with veilfire, their faces set in hard, unreadable expressions. Solas snuck a sidelong look at them both, silently pleading them to light the brazier and provide a distraction. Then, once more, he gave in to his usual role as the historical teacher on all things Elvhen that he'd supposedly learned from the Fade.

"Perhaps the legends have warped over time," he suggested, adopting his passive scholar's tone. "There may be multiple individuals as well, as was likely the case with other wartime figures, like Shartan. A composite figure from a lost war who was venerated here for freeing slaves." He hoped that'd be enough to satisfy their questions and Dorian's lingering, suspicious frown.

Lyris motioned with her hands, summoning the green-blue glow of veilfire into the brazier. The Inquisition mages standing closer to the Dread Wolf statue gasped as its eyes lit up and a mechanism clicked. Stone ground against stone as the wolf statue rolled backward, exposing a descending stairwell leading into the darkened armory below.

"Fenedhis," one of the elven mages cursed.

Solas nodded his head toward Lyris. "Ma serannas," he thanked her and started to direct Dorian toward the stairwell. "We should investigate—"

"Free the slaves of all races living in Tevinter," Dorian said, staring at him.

Solas scowled. "…excuse me?" But even as he asked in genuine confusion his mouth went dry and his heart hammered in his chest.

"You said that to me, once. I was trying to apologize for Arlathan and you told me I wasn't sorry unless I freed the slaves in the Imperium. All of them." He flashed a slow smile. "You and the Dread Wolf sound like you would've gotten along splendidly."

"Unlikely. If he resembled the myths at all I would expect a cowardly traitor." He motioned at the mural. "We do not know that there is any truth in this. It may be propaganda." He shook his head. "But this conversation is pointless. We must continue—if you are ready, Tevinter."

Dorian smirked. "Of course I'm ready. Are you?"

As darkness settled over Halamshiral the summit finally adjourned for the day and Ellana was ready to strangle the Ferelden ambassador with her bare hands. Her head felt thick and heavy with fatigue, but at least her stomach was settled and her appetite still hearty as she retired to her room and took dinner there.

Midway through her meal, an Inquisition scout informed her the mages sent through the eluvian had finally returned and Leliana wished to convene a meeting. Pushing aside her fatigue, Ellana let the scout escort her to the study where she found her advisors along with Solas waiting. The room had a tense stillness to it and Solas looked filthy with grit and a few bloodstains, but his body language told her he was uninjured.

"Inquisitor," Leliana greeted her with a nod. "I thought you'd wish to be present as we discuss the operation in the Crossroads."

And your findings about Solas' village, Ellana thought but kept it to herself. She saw Josephine had prepared tea and left a tray with desserts—more frilly cakes. Though she'd just been eating, her mouth watered anew. Restraining the temptation, Ellana focused on the mages. "Anything interesting to report?"

"We had two injuries," Solas told her, his voice strong and authoritative—an elven reflection of Cullen. "Both minor. We cleared one Qunari base, but there are at least two others we must eliminate. They have a lyrium mining operation in the Deep Roads my people have been sabotaging for some time, but we have not been able to stop them. Attacking it will require significantly more men than we used today."

"A lyrium mine?" Ellana asked, shaking her head in consternation. "I thought only dwarves could mine it?"

Solas' expression darkened with dry humor. "The Qunari are nothing if not persistent. They have taken heavy losses, but through trial and error have managed to mine it, yes. With it they increase the power of the few saarebas they use against us."

"You suggest we focus our next assault on the lyrium mine?" Cullen asked from his spot to Ellana's right at the far end of the table.

"Yes," Solas answered, a polite smile in permanent place over his lips. "Once it has been eliminated the Qunari saarebas and operations as a whole will be weakened. With their limited magical understanding, the Qunari rely on lyrium as a crutch for enchanting and accessing the artifacts they have been collecting in their quest to activate more eluvians."

"I have seen to the removal of gaatlok barrels from the palace," Leliana said, her gaze flicking between Ellana and Solas, as if unsure who to report to. "And unfortunately I have received confirmation that gaatlok has turned up across Thedas at many noble houses." She sighed, shaking her head. "And in many cases, it was our people who brought the barrels in."

"We must keep this quiet," Cullen said, a note of fear and urgency in his voice.

Josephine made a noise in her throat, as if in pain. All eyes flew to her as the ambassador shook her head, brow knit and her eyes flashing with distress. "How could we have let this happen?" she asked, dismayed. "Today the Inquisitor and I sat at the summit and argued for the good the Inquisition has done, but this would ruin us. Ferelden would see us disbanded and only Orlais' lust for power because they hope to use us keeps them from turning against us as well. Divine Victoria cannot hope to—"

"Leliana and I are seeing to the traitors in our ranks," Cullen interrupted with a quick gesture. "We will tighten security in recruitment to ensure this doesn't happen again. We are doing all we can. What more would you have us do?"

Ellana glanced to Solas across the table and saw him watching her, his blue-gray eyes narrowed with sorrow. His lips were compressed in a line, as if holding back his own thoughts. She already knew what they would be and felt her shoulders sag.

Staring at the frilly cakes and the tea on the table, Ellana said, "Perhaps we should disband. Corypheus is dead, the Breach closed…"

"We must think about what is best for Southern Thedas," Cullen argued, his expression angry. "Ferelden is weak for all Arl Teagan's whining. Orlais is so busy throwing masquerades and parties that if the Qunari did invade they'd be caught by surprise. The Chantry might—"

"We won't decide this here," Ellana interrupted him. "But for now we keep the news of the gaatlok quiet. We don't want to start a riot or give Orlais reason to turn against us."

Solas let out a little huff, clearly disappointed. Cullen and Leliana both shot him quick looks, the commander's being one of hostility while the spymaster's remained unreadable. Ellana admired the frosting on the little cake closest to her, pretending she hadn't heard Solas' wordless rebuttal. Her limbs felt heavy, her chest oddly light as she sighed and decided to turn the conversation over to Leliana's suspicions—because it was what her advisors expected of her.

"Solas," she said, keeping her voice cool and distant. "Leliana reported some troubling news to me today."

He shifted in his spot, both hands disappearing behind his back. "Yes?" he asked and Ellana didn't miss the wariness in his voice.

Leliana took over. "My scouts found the village you claimed you grew up in." She was still smiling, subtle and deceptive considering their topic. "Care to explain why you told me you grew up in ruins that must be at least a thousand years old?"

Solas' face did not register surprise. He'd apparently expected this. The polite, friendly smile stayed in place. "My apologies, spymaster. I was determined to help close the Breach, but as both apostate and considering my background as a spy myself, I could not be forthright with you. My organization is a loosely connected one and I had been at Haven in the hopes of spying on the negotiations between mages and Templars." He motioned toward Ellana. "Much like the Inquisitor, or have you all forgotten that?" Breaking off for a moment, he shot her an apologetic look. "Ir abelas, Ellana."

Ellana nodded to acknowledge him but didn't say anything as she struggled to keep her expression neutral, hiding her own sudden doubts. Solas' presence at Haven hadn't been seen by anyone as more than good fortune or divine providence previously, and over the years since the conclave Ellana had given it precious little thought. Now she wondered if Solas' story was complete fabrication, though she wanted to laugh at the divine providence idea. What if it hadn't been Solas at Haven, but Fen'Harel, enacting some scheme? Had Solas been there to spy on the conclave or had he somehow been connected with the Breach from the beginning? The possibility made her feel suddenly cold into her very bones.

"I would still like to know more of your network and its goals, Solas," Leliana insisted, a flash of irritation in her blue eyes. "And of your background."

"I second that," Cullen growled, snarling in Solas' direction.

Solas glared between them, his nose wrinkling slightly with the force of it. Then his eyes landed on her, a silent request for intercession. Ellana refused to look away, squaring her shoulders and clenching her jaw. The icy sensation in her veins seemed to pulse, making her body tense with the certainty that Solas still carried heavy secrets.

Seeing that she wasn't about to intervene, Solas seemed to calm. "Very well," he said, returning his gaze to Leliana. "But there is little to tell of me, personally. I was born in a remote community and when my father died in a hunting accident my mother sent me to an alienage in Ferelden. The hahren there hid my magical talent from the Templars when it manifested and bade me flee before I could be caught. He also provided me the names and location of a group of elves working to improve the lives of our people across Thedas. It was the spies who raised me and taught me magic, though every chance I could I returned to the wilds in search of ruins. I only took a leadership role after joining the Inquisition."

"How innocuous," Leliana murmured, still smiling. Ellana didn't miss the spymaster's quick glance at her, checking her reaction for a second before asking, "And what is this spy network called?"

Now anger darkened Solas' eyes, though he remained stoic and calm. "I would prefer not to divulge it. I have told you of myself and my involvement with them. I do not see how it has any bearing on the present. Surely our time would be better spent planning the assault on the Qunari lyrium mine?"

Solas' ease with lying left Ellana uncomfortable, as if her skin were suddenly too tight for her frame. She wrapped her arms around herself and drew in a silent, deep breath to calm her nerves. The voice of her Keeper chastised her: You are disturbed that the Dread Wolf is such an accomplished liar? What did you expect, da'len?

The dry laugh at her inner thoughts burst out of her before she could stop it, making Solas and her three advisors all stare at her, startled by the outburst. She recovered quickly, clearing her throat and gazing between all four people. "I'm sorry, I can't stop thinking about shoving one of these little cakes into Arl Teagan's face."

At the mixture of irritation, disapproval, and smirking she saw around the table—Josephine aghast, Solas smothering what might have been a genuine smile, Leliana annoyed at being interrupted and Cullen scowling—Ellana had to swallow down her groan of embarrassment. She'd been a constant mess of emotions since the summit started and it was incredibly annoying. The thought of slaughtering some Qunari to prevent war sounded like an excellent distraction and a great way to escape the oppressive boredom of politics.

She started fanning herself, fighting the hot blush stealing over her cheeks. "But to get back on topic—Solas is right. We need to focus on the present, not the past. Tonight we should declare another recess at the summit for tomorrow and possibly the day after. Then I will lead an assault on the lyrium mine with Solas' help. Commander Cullen, can you—"

"No, vhenan," Solas blurted, interrupting her using his pet name for her in public. He'd leaned over the table slightly to be closer to her. His eyes were crinkled at the outer corners, pinched with distress.

"No?" she repeated, arching an eyebrow. "Didn't you just say we needed to take on this lyrium mine and we needed more people to do it?"

"Yes," he answered with a small nod, his lips twisting in a frown. "But there is no need for you to lead them. The Qunari plot your death in particular because they fear the Anchor and its connection to rifts. It is too dangerous for you, vhenan."

Irritation lashed Ellana, sending a wave of heat through her that made her brow furrow and her mouth twist as if she'd tasted something foul. "Solas, I've faced countless enemies who wanted me dead, Anchor or no. I'm not about to sit back while—"

"Vhenan," he repeated, his voice low and gruff as he leaned over the table, resting his palms on it. He opened his mouth to say more but his cheeks bloomed in red and he seemed to think better of it, shaking his head. Stepping backward from the table, Solas glanced around at her advisors and then to the floor as he cleared his throat. "Inquisitor, please reconsider."

She hesitated, her initial irritation cooling as she scrutinized Solas, wondering at his motivation. The leaden weight in her abdomen sprang into her awareness, drawing her mind to memories of clan life when another hunter had fallen pregnant and her bondmate became a paranoid wreck, worrying over her wellbeing. Was this Solas' thinking or was it more than that? Recalling his earlier fears about Elvhen magic affecting the Anchor, Ellana said, "Are you still worried about the Anchor destabilizing?"

"Yes…" he answered, but the way he dragged the word out made it clear there was more on his mind. Yet he stayed silent, his blue-gray eyes narrowed with unhappiness and his lips pinched together.

"Perhaps Solas is correct," Leliana added softly.

Josephine added, "Commander Cullen could lead the assault. That would accomplish the mission and it would keep the summit moving along and the ambassadors happy."

Cullen inhaled sharply, jutting out his chin. "I would be happy to do so." His brown eyes were soft as he met Ellana's stare. "You have only to give the word, Inquisitor."

Ellana sighed, looking to the frilly cake nearest to her and struggling to suppress the irritable press of her annoyance at all of them. Drumming the fingers of her right hand against her left bicep, she grumbled, "You're all becoming oppressively overprotective."

"I'm sure you would be more comfortable leading the summit rather than a battle," Josephine said with a gentle laugh.

Ellana lost her patience, groaning. "I'm pregnant, Josie, not an invalid."

At her bluntness Cullen made a choking sound suddenly, fidgeting and staring at the table with a grimace. Leliana and Josephine chuckled at his discomfiture. Solas remained stoic, though the tint of color in his cheeks had yet to fade. His gaze remained on her, as if everyone else had ceased to exist.

"Please, vhenan," he said, breaking his usual formality yet again in front of her advisors. Ellana had lost count now of exactly how many times it'd happened in this conversation. She also noted that Leliana and Josephine covertly watched Solas, judging his reaction. Even her condition was part of the Game, fuel for it like tinder for a fire. Now, undoubtedly, they'd be judging him for loyalty and trustworthiness.

"I visited the Crossroads and I was fine," Ellana reminded him, lifting her left hand and displaying the palm, wriggling the fingers. "Are there Elvhen ruins in the Deep Roads?"

"There are some, yes," Solas said stiffly.

"And are they especially charged with magic?" she persisted. "Or are you just worrying? Do you know for sure the Anchor will destabilize the second I run across stray Elvhen magic? It did just fine in the temple of Mythal." She paused, eyes flicking quickly to her advisors, and then asked, "Or is there something you know about the Anchor that we don't?"

An expression of pain laced his features momentarily. He licked his lips before answering in a somber tone, "I do not know exactly how the Anchor will behave, vhen—Inquisitor. There is little Elvhen magic in the lyrium mine. You may visit it without any difficulty, but it is not a risk I would see you take."

Ellana read that answer as being an admission that his primary motivation was worry rather than hidden knowledge. Yet she made a mental note to ask him directly about the Anchor and his fortuitous presence at Haven during the conclave explosion. Considering what she now knew of him, it seemed highly unlikely he didn't know more than he'd let on about the ancient Elvhen artifact that had the power to tear the Veil open…

He was looking for the artifact, she realized, blinking. How had she not seen it sooner? The way he grieved its loss and had expressed such interest in it during their quest to defeat Corypheus…

Her head swimming, Ellana lurched for the table, grabbing at the cake on the tray. Taking a fork from nearby, she stabbed the cake and started eating.

"Inquisitor…?" Josephine asked, her voice worried.

After swallowing the heady, sugary mix of chocolate and toffee, Ellana used the fork to motion at Solas. "I don't care what you say—I want to see this lyrium mine for myself. And I am not sitting on that damned Exalted Council tomorrow."

Solas flinched as if she'd struck him across the face, but he quickly regained his composure and gave her a little graceful bow. "By your leave, Inquisitor."

"Are you sure about this?" Leliana asked, shooting her a perplexed look. No doubt Leliana had read her reaction as being less about logic and more emotional—a reflection of her doubting Solas.

"Stop pestering me," Ellana grumbled around another bite. "I've made up my mind." She pulled out a chair and plopped into it, suddenly feeling weak in the knees. When had she gotten so hungry? Or was she just shaken to realize how much she still didn't know about her lover? Staring at the cake, eating forkfuls with vigor, gave her a way to focus beyond the sudden cold, hollow shock that'd descended on her. "Josephine, please give my apologies to the ambassadors tomorrow. Oh, and I'll be eternally grateful if you'd make sure we always have these cakes."

Josephine dipped her head. "Of course, Your Worship."

"All right, meeting adjourned," Ellana said when her mouth was suitably empty to talk again. Her advisors filed out and Solas followed, his gait stiff and his expression dour. "Solas," she called him and he froze, his back to her. He twisted at the neck slightly, glancing over his shoulder at her.

"Inquisitor?"

She frowned, stabbing her fork into the center of the frilly cake as she glared at him, silent until she heard the last of her advisors file out. When she was certain they were alone, she said, "Tell me why you were at Haven just before the blast."

He faced forward again so she couldn't see his expression. His shoulders drooped and he lowered his head, sullen. "The orb Corypheus used at the Conclave was mine, vhenan."

Staring at his back, Ellana felt abruptly nauseous. This was worse than what she'd expected. "You were in league with Corypheus," she whispered.

He whipped around to face her, his expression warped with anger, but his voice when he spoke was calm and flat. "I did no such thing. I would never support a Darkspawn Magister with delusions of godhood. I spent my life before uthenera fighting against false-gods, vhenan. I—"

"Then how did Corypheus have your orb?" Ellana interrupted, rising to her feet and stalking toward him, hands clenched at her sides. "Dirthera, Dread Wolf."

Flinching, he withdrew a step and shook his head. "When I woke from uthenera…" He closed his eyes, sighing. "The orb was gone. I had attendants while I slept, but something happened while I lay dreaming. My chamber was magically sealed, which kept me safe, but I believe tomb raiders stumbled upon the ruins. They took the orb."

The devastation and grief in his face silenced her wrath and suspicion. The explosion at the conclave, Divine Justinia's death and the hundreds who'd perished with her, the Anchor winding up on Ellana's hand…it hadn't been his fault. Her knees seemed to have gone boneless again with relief this time.

"I'm sorry," she told him, her voice soft. "I didn't know."

He flashed a miserable, wavering smile. "Your suspicion is understandable," he whispered. "And warranted. I have misled you before." He swallowed, his throat working. The blue-gray of his eyes seemed to hold the fathomless depths of the Waking Sea, unknowable and even frightening.

"Will you reconsider going to the mine?" he asked her and Ellana shook off the shiver coursing through her.

"You truly wouldn't be able to stabilize the Anchor?" she asked, making a face. She clenched and unclenched her left hand, feeling it prickle as always when she thought of the magic there.

"It's possible," he admitted, but his eyes were heavy with sadness and doubt. "But it was made to be tied to myself, not to another. The magic involved is complex and powerful. I did not expect anyone else to be able to wield it, let alone carry it for years. And you, a non-mage…" He sighed, glancing away. "Your life would be in danger." When he looked back to her, his eyes glimmered with moisture. "I cannot lose you, vhenan."

Ellana wrapped her arms around herself. "And I don't want to be locked away the rest of my life for fear it will destabilize. You may be able to fix it again."

He closed his eyes. "After Corypheus fell I searched for an alternative whenever I traveled. Another foci from one of the Evanuris or some other artifact that could remove the Anchor from you…" He shook his head, forlorn. "Two years and I have found nothing."

She reached for his hand and squeezed as he lifted his gaze to hers. "We'll find something," she said and meant it. "And I will be careful. I promise, emma lath."

"Then I will do everything in my power to protect you, vhenan," he said, solemn as though he were swearing a blood oath. He tugged on her hand, and she let herself be enfolded in his embrace, returning it as she snuggled her head into the crook of his shoulder. "Bellanaris," he whispered in her ear.

Elven Used:

Fen'Harel vir'enasalin: "vir" is our path/way. "Enasalin" is victory/triumph. So translated as something like, "Dread Wolf's victorious path."

Venavis: stop

Dirthera: tell

Bellanaris: eternity

Next Chapter:

"Ten royals says it's a boy," Varric announced, arms spread wide as he gazed around the room, grinning. "Anyone wager it's a girl?"

Beside the eluvian, Solas scowled, his cheeks blooming suddenly red. He crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at the dwarf. "This is not a subject one bets on."