A/N: AHHH! I'm SO sorry everyone...I got busy and distracted on Friday and forgot to post! So, I'm a day late, but it's been a busy week. Sort of a rebirth week for me. No more agent, but a book deal still in the works and possibly moving away, changing jobs...starting a family of my own? Because believe it or not, I have no offspring. I'm just fudging the details of Lana's pregnancy.

WARNINGS: This chapter has a brief reference to rape, because Solas' backstory is, as usual, grim. It's short and not graphic or anything but be advised. It is also a NSFW chapter. If you're not into that skip to the end after the narration breaks to Ellana's POV again about 3/4ths of the way through the chapter. Scroll to the end if sex isn't your thing. But really, what is a party without a nice roll in the hay?

Seventeen

Clan Lavellan Throws A Party

Lerand sidled up to her, close enough that his arm could brush hers as they walked. "You must tell me everything, Ellana. We hear so many rumors but know so little." He paused then, his face twisting with grief. "I saw your father die," he murmured. "It was one of the first attacks. He cast a barrier over me to save me from the arrows the bandits fired—but not over himself. One of their arrows caught him in the shoulder and pierced the artery there." Lerand's voice hitched and he sucked in a breath. "I'm so sorry for your loss."

"Thank you," Ellana answered, feeling her own grief settle on the anxious knot in her chest with an extra weight. "I wish there was more that I could've done."

"You saved us," Lerand said, the gratitude and sincerity in his brown eyes darkening them like rain clouds blocking the sunlight. "If you hadn't been there to protect us as Inquisitor we would've been wiped out. We all owe you our lives."

"I'm just glad I could help," she said and then suddenly found her eyes burning with tears. "You have no idea how much I missed all of you."

"But especially me," Lerand quipped, smirking.

"All of you," Ellana repeated, sniffing as she tried to compose herself. Her emotions were a blurred, messy mass of confusion. She drew in a deep breath and, seeking distraction, turned to indicate Solas and the sentinels. "Lerand, this is Solas."

"A pleasure," Lerand said, grinning. "Any friend of Ellana's is a friend of mine."

Solas nodded to the younger man, a polite smile on his lips, but didn't speak aloud before Ellana moved on to introducing the sentinels. "The warriors with us are Abelas and Darae."

Lerand greeted them both and then glanced to Solas again. "Pride and Sorrow?" he asked, arching an eyebrow. "Do you two hate each other or what?"

Darae snorted with derision, glaring. Abelas ignored him as if he hadn't heard the question.

Solas, however, chuckled dryly. "How astute of you, da'len. Isn't it comforting to know that one's character may be accurately surmised from the meaning of his name alone?"

Ellana's long experience with Solas told her this seemingly friendly tone was actually a straight-faced sardonic reply. She shot Solas a withering look.

Lerand frowned. "I meant no offense." But after a beat he smirked. "Of course, isn't it funny that you'd be the one to answer and not Abelas?"

"No," Abelas shot back, scowling. "It is not, as you say, funny."

"All right," Lerand said with a sigh. "I take it back. I'm sorry." He looked to Ellana again and all sign of awkwardness or vanished as he returned to grinning. "I'm just so happy you've come back, Ellana."

"I am too," Ellana replied, though her own smile was tinged now with the tension she sensed from the less than friendly sentinels and her bristling lover. The baby moved again, a fluttering that suddenly made her bladder feel ready to burst. She ignored it, still focusing on Lerand as they continued walking, hoping she could make it to the camp without having to disrupt the journey to relieve herself. "But we have serious business to discuss with Deshanna when she returns."

"Of course," Lerand said, nodding. "But you're staying, right?" He gripped her forearm, edging close enough that she could feel his breath fan on her face. "You're not just visiting, right? We heard rumor that you left the Inquisition." Concern furrowed his brow. "We heard you were…abducted?" He shrugged, looking confused or cautious as he cast a quick glance at Solas and the sentinels.

Ellana snorted. "Don't be ridiculous. Solas and I left because we had no other choice. The humans turned on him, arrested him as an apostate." She edged backward from Lerand slightly and he released his gentle grip on her forearm. "Negan said the Templars have been threatening the clan too. Is that true?" She laid a hand over her navel as she spoke unconsciously, thinking of the high likelihood that her child would almost certainly be a mage. Unless they restored the Fade to the waking world the humans would be able to threaten her child someday, too.

"Yeah," Lerand answered with a huff. "Deshanna's had Templars catch her in the city a couple times, and once they came around the clan camp once, asking about talented children." Anger clouded his features and roughened his voice. "We've always been allowed to have a First and Second, but in the last few weeks they've been threatening to take Nelora to a Circle."

"Outrageous," Solas snarled behind them, overhearing. "You must tell your Keeper to write to Divine Victoria. She will not tolerate Templars bullying your clan."

Lerand looked to Solas with an expression of surprised appreciation. "You think so?"

"Divine Victoria is a fair woman and she is…" Ellana broke off, feeling heavy again with sorrow. "Or was, I suppose, a good friend of mine."

"What happened?" Lerand asked, lips quirking downward with sympathy.

"I'd rather not talk about it right now," she said, averting her gaze to watch the forest and the other three members of her clan—Negan, Nesa, and Samhel—walking ahead.

The babbling song of water sang in Ellana's ears then as they descended another small hill and entered a clearing beside a sandy riverbank. The water itself was clear and immediately made Ellana's mouth fill with saliva, longing to drink it. There was never enough good water to drink while traveling. The water from their canteens usually tasted stale. Spindleweed and blood lotus dotted the shore on both sides and Ellana saw another familiar figure across the water, kneeling in the sand and plucking the herbs.

"Ah," Lerand said. "Look who it is."

"Rinaya," Ellana shouted and waved to the woman.

The brunette lifted her head and stared across the river with an incredulous look. "Ellana?" she asked, getting to her feet. A slow grin spread over her face then and she let out a little shriek of excitement. "Don't cross here," she called and pointed off to Ellana's right, further upriver. "The current's stronger than it looks."

Ellana would've trotted along the riverbank to keep up with Rinaya but Negan and the rest of her party seemed in no hurry—and at any rate, sudden movement was uncomfortable now with the baby being bigger. A short ways upriver and around a bend where the banks were steeper they found Rinaya beside a small rope bridge. She rushed forward, embracing Ellana and nearly knocking her over just as Nesa had. Rinaya's laughter was contagious and soon Ellana found herself joining in until tears streamed down her face.

When they parted, still holding each other, Rinaya sniffled, also crying. "I was so worried for you," she said, her blue eyes glistening with more unshed tears. "Deshanna said the humans told her you betrayed the Inquisition, that they're hunting you. I thought you'd be dead!"

"I'm very much alive," Ellana said, blinking more tears. She pulled Rinaya into another hug.

Lerand began the introductions before they'd finished embracing. "Rinaya, meet Solas, Abelas, and…" He grunted, suddenly embarrassed as he asked Darae, "What was your name again?"

The sentinel woman heaved a sigh and ignored him, speaking to Abelas and Solas instead. "May I suggest I return to our camp to let the others know we've made contact with the clan?"

"An excellent idea," Solas said. "Abelas, go with Darae. Ellana and I will stay with the clan tonight. Meet us tomorrow afternoon with everyone at this point and we will speak together with the Keeper."

"You're all welcome to stay with us," Negan offered, his voice scratchy and hoarse with age. He cleared it, spitting off into the underbrush.

Seeing it, Ellana sobered, a little spasm of alarm cutting through her chest. "Are you unwell, hahren?" she asked him. She didn't miss the way Rinaya's lips pinched and her gaze darkened at Ellana's question.

"Grandpa's fine," Nesa said with a shrug.

Negan nudged her toward the rope bridge. "Why don't you go on ahead of us with Samhel and let Mahanon and the hearth keeper know we're coming?"

"Do I have to?" Nesa whined. "Can't Lerand and Samhel go instead?"

"Come along, do as your grandfather says," Samhel said, striding along the sandy riverbank and snatching the girl's hand, walking her to the bridge.

As soon as Nesa was out of earshot, Negan answered Ellana's question. "I'm dying, da'len."

Ellana let out a little sound of alarm, her throat aching at his words. "Are you sure? Is there some medicine we could—"

"The healer says it's incurable," Rinaya put in, her head and shoulders drooping. "A slow wasting of the lungs."

Negan's expression was calm and serene as he shrugged. "Do not be sad, Ellana. It is the way of the world. The old must make way for the young." Now he smiled and Ellana knew he was thinking of her own baby.

Solas murmured something unintelligible and in elven, making the others and Ellana glance in his direction, but he had already turned away to speak to Abelas and Darae. "Return to our camp. Ellana and I will remain here."

"As you say, hahren," Abelas said with a nod, his lips set in a hard, grim line as he and Darae turned on their heels and took off back down the riverbank.

After they'd left Ellana searched over Negan's face, biting her lip as she tried to contain her sorrow. "How much longer do you have?" she asked, barely above a whisper.

"The healer doubts I will survive the winter," Negan answered with a small, sad smile before shaking his head. "But this is not a day for sorrows. This is a time of celebration."

Lerand was at her side then, locking elbows with her and motioning to the rope bridge. "If you'll follow me, Lady Inquisitor," he said, grinning. "I'm sure we can find your mother somewhere around here."

With Rinaya leading now, Ellana crossed the rope bridge, though the swaying of it made her head spin. Halfway across she had to slow her pace, gripping tighter to both Lerand and the robe bridge. The sound of the rushing river roared in her ears and she groaned.

"Ellana?" Lerand asked, patting her forearm. "What's wrong?"

Solas, who'd followed close behind as usual, pressed forward and overtook them. Ellana felt his arm snake around her waist as he ducked under her other arm. "Vhenan," he said, his voice tender with concern. "Are you well?"

"I can manage," she said, groaning again. "It's just the swaying." She noticed Lerand's unreadable, wary expression as Solas took most of her weight on his shoulder and with his other hand at her waist, helped her move ahead. After a few steps Lerand fell behind them, letting Solas have her to himself.

On the far side they met Rinaya who watched Ellana with a new, knowing look, though she said nothing. At Ellana's insistence Solas released her, though he stayed close, ever her shadow. Lerand joined them, a sheepish set to his features now and his posture closed with his arms crossed over his chest.

"Are you sick, Lana?" he asked, using her childhood pet name, an unsubtle reminder of how long he'd known her.

"I'm fine, just a weak stomach." Ellana sighed and scrubbed at her face, fatigue weighing down her shoulders along with the continued sorrow of learning Negan had so little time left—not to mention the loss of her father. She didn't need Lerand moping to dampen the joy of her homecoming. The fact that she was the Dread Wolf's lover would do that for her soon enough.

"You?" Lerand asked, chuckling. "Weak stomach? Weren't you the only one who didn't puke that time the healer made us go look for dragon glands in that half-rotted high dragon corpse?"

The memory of that adventure, particularly of the putrid smell, made Ellana's stomach churn now. She clutched her belly with one hand. "Lerand, shut up before I vomit all over my coat."

From behind her Ellana felt Solas caress her back as he asked Lerand and Rinaya, "Do you perhaps have any tea? I have some ginger that may help."

"Our hearth keeper always has a pot on the fire," Rinaya said with a nod. "We're almost to camp, Ellana. Whenever you're ready."

Sucking in a few deep breaths, Ellana straightened up. "I'm ready. It passes quickly."

Rinaya smirked. "I remember." She started walking out of the clearing and into the forest along a well-worn path. Ellana and Solas followed her with Lerand and Negan taking up the rear.

"Remember what?" Lerand asked, directing the question far ahead toward Ellana and Rinaya, sounding confused.

No one answered him as the group made their way through a narrow section of forest before entering a mostly flat clearing where the clan's aravels waited, arranged in a rough circle around the center campfire. Halla grazed at the opposite end of the clearing, their shepherd and his apprentice watching over the animals. The smell of wood smoke set that nostalgic ache twisting inside Ellana again for the umpteenth time.

She found Solas' hand and gripped it, squeezing. "I wish we could stay here," she whispered, unsure if he'd hear it.

"We will, vhenan," Solas answered, also whispering. "For now and as long as we can—as long as you wish. I will reveal nothing to your clan until you are ready."

She was about to reply to him when a middle-aged woman trotted out from around the nearest aravel and the sight of her stole Ellana's breath. "Mamae!" she cried and, heedless of how uncomfortable it was, jogged to meet her mother. They threw their arms around each other, laughing and sobbing at once.

With her heart pounding away like a fist against her breastbone and her throat burning—both with emotion and what was probably going to be heartburn—Ellana was breathless as her mother kissed her cheeks repeatedly, the same way she had when she was a child. Ellana's mother had hazel eyes, more tinged with green than brown, a color that made her think of high summertime, when the earth was at its most generous and fertile. Gray streaked her hair more now than Ellana remembered from before she'd left for the conclave, but otherwise she was still strong with few wrinkles despite a lifetime spent foraging under the sun. Ellana's mother was one of the clan's healers, the longtime first apprentice to Lavellan's actual healer, a woman nearly as old as Negan.

Ellana's mother clucked her tongue when they'd both caught their breath and wiped at Ellana's tears. "I missed you so much," she said, laying a hand over her heart. "We heard so little of you, just rumors and stories."

"I'm here now, mamae," Ellana said, clenching her jaw to avoid another outburst even as the pleasure-pain of the reunion seemed to swell out of control in her chest. "I'm so sorry I wasn't able to visit or write often."

"I think we can forgive you, Lana," her mother said with a joyful laugh. "You were only busy saving Thedas after all." She cupped Ellana's cheeks then, a frown of confusion warping her face. "Where are your vallaslin?"

"I had them removed," Ellana answered, the words catching in her throat and coming out hoarse.

"What?" her mother gasped. As if she didn't believe Ellana she began brushing her fingers over her forehead, as if hoping to expose the tattoos hidden beneath makeup. "How could you do such a thing?"

Ellana gripped her mother's hands on her cheeks and sighed. "Please, mamae, it's a long story and I'd rather not tell it now."

"Of course," her mother said and pulled her into another hug. When they parted Ellana's mother immediately gestured to Solas. "And who is this, Lana?"

Solas had lingered behind Ellana as usual, quiet and unobtrusive. He wore a small smile on his lips, his blue eyes pinched with warmth. "I am Solas. I presume you must be Ellana's mother." He dipped his head in an exaggerated nod to show respect. "I am honored to finally meet you."

"Such manners," her mother crooned, grinning. "I am Ashani. First to our healer." She smirked as she looked to Ellana. "And mother to the Inquisitor, or so they tell me."

Ellana's shoulders slumped as she sighed, averting her gaze from both Solas and her mother. "I'm not Inquisitor anymore, mamae." She shrugged with defeat. "Now I'm just Ellana."

Her mother smiled, her face bright with love, and hugged her again. "That's always been enough for me, darling."

A crowd of elves had gathered, watching with grins or looks of shock as Ellana and Solas as Negan, Rinaya, and Lerand returned to the circle of aravels. Ellana found herself inundated by the sea of familiar faces, all slightly changed from when she'd last seen them over three years ago and all of them clamoring to hear what she'd gone through or to understand how and why she'd lost her vallaslin. Soon her cheeks hurt from smiling and her throat was a nonstop ache of emotion, her eyes gritty and dry from outbursts of tears she seemed to have no control over.

And then she spotted Rinaya coming through the crowd with her brother, Mahanon, at her side and in his arms was a tiny child, somewhere between baby and toddler. Choking on her own joy, Ellana moved to them and found herself staring at her niece for the first time.

"Welcome home, little sister," Mahanon greeted her, moisture glinting in his hazel eyes, the same color as their mother's. "I'd like to introduce Deya." He twisted his body around, encouraging his daughter to see Ellana. "Say hi, little one. This is your Aunt Lana."

The tiny girl blinked her round, innocent eyes up at Ellana. The sight of the bright green made Ellana gasp. "She has Father's eyes."

"And his hardheadedness," Mahanon said with a laugh. "A lot like someone else I know." He pulled her into a half-hug with his other arm. Deya squirmed against Mahanon's chest, twisting to reach out so she could snatch Ellana's hair, then she squealed with excitement, showing her gap-toothed grin.

"Uh oh." Rinaya helped extricate Deav's fingers from Ellana's hair as the family laughed. "See? She only just met you and she already won't let go."

In those blissful few moments Ellana could forget this wasn't a real homecoming, but the moment proved short lived. When Deya grasped her finger Ellana felt her skin tingle at the child's touch. Immediately her smile fell as she saw both Rinaya and Mahanon had noticed it as well.

"She'll be a mage," Ellana said, the words hoarse and difficult to speak around the lump of emotion in her throat. The clan already had the maximum number of mages allowed by Templars. That meant someone would have to leave the clan, and usually it was the youngest child who'd be traded away or even given to a Circle. As if that weren't bad enough, Ellana also knew Deshanna would discourage Mahanon and Rinaya from having other children for fear they'd have more mages the clan could not raise.

Mahanon wrapped his other arm around Deya and kissed the side of her fuzzy, brown-haired head. "Yes," he murmured. "And she's still so young she's sure to be stronger than me, Lana. More like Father." His chin wrinkled as pride and grief warred visibly on his face.

Anguish and anger made her blood run cold, then hot. Glancing over her shoulder, out of the throng of familiar faces who watched her with smiles or awe, Ellana saw Solas beside one of the aravels, waiting patiently. The nervous knot in her stomach coiled tighter as she faced her brother and his fledgling family, her hands clenching into fists. "The Dread Wolf take the Templars and the Circles. Solas and I have come with news of an uprising. Of rebellion. We have no reason to fear the Fade or mages. Magic is a gift to the People and we must be free to embrace it."

"We are few, Lana," Mahanon reminded her, shaking his head. "Rebellion will only give the humans what they want—a reason to crush us."

"There's a way," Ellana insisted, shaking with the fierceness of her resolve. "When Deshanna returns from Wycome we will tell you everything."

Mahanon's hazel eyes narrowed, searching her. "I have had strange dreams, Lana. I thought them just vivid dreams or tricks of the Fade but…" He shifted Deya higher in his arms and gazed around the gathered clan. "Something's coming, isn't it? You are not the first to speak of rebellion."

"Something is coming," Ellana said, nodding solemnly. "That's why Solas and I are here."

Deya squealed then, reaching out for Rinaya and babbling, "Mamae! Mamae!" Rinaya took the child from Mahanon, hugging her tight though Deya had other ideas as she immediately began digging at her mother's clothing, trying to reach her breasts.

"I think Deya has the right idea," Mahanon said, chuckling as he raised his voice to speak to the rest of the clan. "It's dinnertime and we have reason to celebrate!"

The clan cheered and whistled, grinning and scattering to prepare for the coming meal. As the rest of the clan went to work, Mahanon laid a hand on Ellana's shoulder, his smile hard and somber. "We'll discuss whatever news you've brought tomorrow after Deshanna returns, Lana."

Ellana gripped his hand on her shoulder, swallowing to try and clear the painful lump still lodged in her throat. "Mahanon, what I have to say will be difficult to hear. Whatever happens—whatever Deshanna decides, I just want you to know I will always love you. I will always fight to protect our clan and our people." She blinked, feeling tears spill down her cheeks. "And I'm thrilled to have met Deya. You should be proud."

"I am," he said, grinning as he brushed away her tears with one knuckle. Then, after staring behind her for a moment—likely at Solas—Mahanon leaned closer and murmured, "Nesa has been running around camp saying you are with child. Is it true?"

She laughed, though it was thick with tears. "That girl." She laid a hand over her belly through the coat. "I didn't expect I'd have to discuss it so soon—but yes."

"We can give you asylum, Lana, but at great cost to ourselves. The humans despise us for having any power over them at all. Templars visited the camp in the summer. The next time they come I fear Deya will be strong enough they will sense her and take her away." His eyes slid again to stare behind her. "Your partner…" He sighed, his brow furrowing. "He is wanted as a fugitive—more than you. And he's a powerful mage. I can feel his magic from here."

You have no idea, Ellana thought and let out a choking laugh. "I know. We could never stay here very long without endangering you all." She shook her head. "I'm sorry." She gazed into his eyes, managing to smile though she knew it wavered. "We shouldn't worry about any of this until tomorrow when Deshanna returns."

"Of course," Mahanon said, his smile bright as he nodded to her. "We have much to celebrate tonight."

The innocence of the Dalish always reminded Solas of his earliest recollections from his childhood. After harvests or bonding ceremonies or the birth of a child, Solas' village had celebrated much as clan Lavellan did now—with food and wine, singing, dancing and storytelling. Yet Solas' village had used magic in most of it, which made preparing meals simpler and enhanced stories with images cast by the teller. Songs were richer, the food was better, and the wine could be centuries old and enchanted with emotion or sensations.

But there was one thing the Dalish didn't do that made them better than his village, his parents, and all of Elvhenan: there were no slaves here, or even servants for that matter. His own village had used slaves and servants to cleanup after such celebrations, to serve food and drink, and sometimes for far worse things. A servant, despite being free of the compulsion of vallaslin, could still find herself coerced by social manipulation or magic of some kind into laying down for a depraved noble in an alley. Slaves of course had no chance of escaping whatever cruel whims the middle class, nobility, or even servants had in mind. Solas' parents had turned a blind eye to such abuses even as they abhorred them.

But Solas had opted for a different path when, after the celebration of a new birth among the middle class, he stumbled on a middle class man from another village raping a slave woman. On that night, horrified and enraged, he first used his magic to kill. He'd been little more than a child, barely old enough to understand what he'd seen, yet burning the much older, more experienced man into a crisp had been easy once he let rage take him. Unfortunately, in his inexperience, Solas killed both rapist and victim. And he'd set fire to several buildings, inadvertently covering up his own actions in the blaze that followed.

His family and the village blamed the fire and the deaths on the dead man, assuming the drunkard cast a fire spell after passing out. Though the tenacity and size of the fire baffled everyone. How had it grown so big, so fast? And why did it resist magical efforts to put it out?

Solas never revealed the truth, but to his dying day he knew he'd remember the slave's face, twisted with pain though her eyes were glazed. She felt, she lived, but she was trapped inside the cage of her own skull, powerless to fight with the compulsion of vallaslin binding her. The horror of it had never left him and eventually drove him to become the Dread Wolf.

How ironic that the Dalish's innocent celebration had been exactly what he fought for and yet they remembered him as a monster—like the man Solas had killed that night.

Trying to distract himself from his dark memories, Solas drank very little wine and took to listening and watching Ellana's clan, trying to enjoy the present rather than tumble back into his past. The people of the clan all knew one another intimately, and most of them were distant cousins. As the lone outsider, Solas found himself both a source of curiosity and suspicion. Elders and children alike stopped to talk to him, sometimes to learn more about him, but mostly it was to welcome him by sharing stories of the clan. Ellana joined him periodically, but spent most of her time with her immediate family. Whenever another clan member wasn't speaking to him, Solas stared across the camp, finding Ellana smiling and laughing with her family. The sight made his chest ache, restarting the memories of his own lost family back in a time millennia ago when he'd been as innocent as clan Lavellan.

And then, after hearing humorous tales about Ellana and clan life from half a dozen people, Solas found himself greeting a drunken, slurring Lerand. The blonde youth—Solas had to keep reminding himself that his desire to call him boy was a result of his own irritation with this warrior who'd clearly been involved with Ellana in the past—carried a flask of wine and grinned toothily. He extended the flask out to Solas, offering him a drink.

"Pride," he said and sniggered. "Wanna drink? Ashani gave me the good stuff. From Antiva."

"Thank you for the offer," Solas replied with a polite smile. "But I must decline. I prefer to keep a sharp mind and I have already had more than enough for one evening."

Without being asked, Lerand took a stumbling step closer and then dropped unceremoniously onto the halla hide Solas was sitting on beside one of the aravels. He took a quick swig of the leather bound flask and then pushed it at Solas again. "Really, you should drink. You should be celebrating." He hiccupped and grinned at Solas. "Heard you're gonna be a father."

"Yes," Solas confirmed with a slow nod and small smile. "In the spring."

Lerand tipped his head back and let out a groan. "She was s'post to be mine, you know," he said and chuckled. "We had some good times, we did."

"I'd prefer if we did not discuss this," Solas said, scowling as he cast quickly for another subject. "Do you have any interest in—"

"What is wrong with you, Pride?" Lerand asked, slurring. He turned his head, staring at Solas through surprisingly sharp—if a little glassy—brown eyes that reflected the orange flicker of the fire. "Lana says you're not bonded. Fenedhis, I killed a bear for her once and she didn't want me."

Sighing, Solas quashed his initial desire to scold Lerand for the personal question and instead ignored him, staring at Ellana where she sat with her niece on her lap and her brother chatting to her. Both of them were grinning with joy. Ashani, Ellana's mother, was stooped in front of Ellana on her hands and knees, playing with Deya. Even from a distance he could see the resemblance in the family to one another. Ashani had given Ellana the pump heart-shape of her lips and mother and son shared the same nose and eye color. Deya, surprisingly, resembled Ellana a great deal. Solas had never had extended family before as both of his parents had been single children, as was typical in Elvhenan's middle and upper classes. Now he wondered if he would've seen similarities between himself and distant family members. Perhaps an aunt or uncle that'd never been born could have also turned out as one of the Evanuris?

"You wanna hear bout the time I killed a bear?" Lerand asked and then launched into the story unprompted. "So the clan was south of here by a couple weeks' journey and the whole place was overrun with bears. Mythal's mercy, you couldn't go anywhere without seeing one—or ten." He broke off, laughing a moment and taking another quick swill from his flask. "Anyway. Ellana was Negan's 'prentice then, like fourteen. And we snuck out to go kill one of these bears so she could get her vallaslin. See, I got mine that year. I was almost sixteen but I thought she could do it. She's a great shot with a bow—"

"I know," Solas interrupted. "I've fought alongside Ellana for over three years now." He frowned at himself, irritated that he'd fallen into a trap of justifying how well he knew Ellana to her old lover or betrothed or…whatever they'd been to each other.

"Yeah," Lerand said, unfazed by Solas' addition as he continued his tale. "And then the plan was we'd do the bonding ceremony right away once she had her vallaslin. Too bad Fehorn caught her trying to leave. He was a good First and as pure as a halla but fenedhis could he get mad!"

Solas placed the name Lerand had mentioned as Ellana's father, killed two years ago by the "bandits" that'd attacked the clan on the Duke of Wycome's command. Despite himself, Solas perked up at the chance to discuss Ellana's father. "Tell me, I've heard Ellana's brother say that their father was a more powerful mage than him and he suspects—"

Lerand snorted. "Creators, Fehorn made Mahanon look like a nug beside a halla. Ah no, please don't tell Mahanon I said that, but 's true." He looked at Solas, plaintive even through his drunkenness.

Smirking with amusement, Solas said, "Your secret is safe with me, but please, continue. What else do you know about Ellana's father?"

"Fehorn was traded in from another clan before I was born. Cuz Deshanna's kids weren't gifted." He shifted, pointing one hand out clumsily to indicate a middle-aged man currently singing with Negan and several others. "See him? He's Deshanna's son. And Negan is Deshanna's brother and the guy next to—"

"How long could Fehorn cast before reaching mana burnout?" Solas asked, interrupting Lerand. "How did his magic first manifest? Flames? Ice? Spirit?"

"I dunno. All of it?" Lerand drank again and groaned. "My head is spinning."

Very helpful, Solas thought and just managed not to roll his eyes. He reached over and took the flask from Lerand's hand. "I think you've had enough of this, da'len."

"Fen'Harel's balls," Lerand grumbled, glaring glassy-eyed at him.

Solas cringed at the curse. "Excuse me?"

"Why do you call me da'len? You can't be that old, not old enough to be my father—maybe thirty-five?" Lerand hiccupped again, squinting as if he could read the answer from Solas' face. "Didn't know she liked 'em older."

Solas searched the camp, desperate for a way to escape the conversation and saw Ellana watching him with an anxious expression on her face. Ah, excellent.

Passing the flask back to Lerand, Solas feigned a smile. "If you'll excuse me, da—" He stopped himself and said, "Lethallin. I must be going."

Lerand followed Solas' gaze and groaned, slurping as he drank yet again from the flask now that he had it back. "I remember going with her…you're so lucky…" He broke off, halfway collapsing as he bumped his head on the aravel behind him. "Fenedhis—ouch. Where in the great beyond did this aravel come from?"

As Solas rose to his feet and made his way around the fire he saw Ellana extricating herself from a sleepy Deya, passing the girl to her mother. When she got to her feet she wobbled slightly and Solas rushed to grasp her, supporting her. "Vhenan—are you all right?"

"Just tipsy," she replied smiling as she caressed his cheek. "Why don't you join us?"

"I did not want to interfere or draw you away from your family," he replied honestly. He felt the weight of the clan's eyes on him, despite the ongoing songs, musical instruments, and laughter. Tomorrow evening would they curse this night as a trick of the Dread Wolf, trying to seduce them all away using Ellana?

She jerked her chin in Lerand's direction, smirking. "Do I want to know what he was saying to you?"

Solas laughed and shook his head. "He mentioned something about killing a bear for you."

"Ugh," Ellana groaned and pulled him closer, pressing her head to his chest. "Please tell me he was too drunk to get to the part where my father made us clean and dry halla dung for six months."

Solas laughed again. "He was, as a matter of fact, too drunk to finish the tale. But now I find myself wanting to hear it."

She raised her head, grinning. "Dread Wolf take me first." He tensed despite the playful gleam in her eye, aware that her brother, mother, and sister-in-law were nearby and might overhear. But before he could reply or pull away Ellana snatched his hand and tugged him with her—but not toward her family as he'd expected. She led him toward the nearest gap between the aravels, pausing to grab a pelt from inside one of them. Behind them Solas heard cheering and ululating that was vaguely sexual. Throughout the evening he'd seen couples split off into the darkness after kissing or embracing near the fire—an entirely expected occurrence at any Dalish clan—but Ellana's clan was unabashed in encouraging those who left with cheers.

He might've been embarrassed or worried about how this would affect their discussion with the Keeper the next day, but the sight of Ellana beaming, smelling of food and wine and fire awakened a primal hunger inside him. When she'd found the pelt she'd been looking for inside the aravel and turned round to take his hand again Solas was already there. Wrapping an arm around her waist, he pulled her to him and kissed her, uncaring that the orange firelight still danced over them, meaning more than a few clan members could see them.

Ellana's hands snaked up his back, her breath picking up and her lips parting for him. Deepening the kiss, he swept his tongue into her mouth, tasting her and finding the lingering flavors of her meal and the wine she'd had. She pressed her hips to him, arching her back. The small bump of her belly against him set his heart pounding, his body burning for her at the reminder of past pleasures and the new life they'd created. Knowing she carried his child had only increased his appetite for her, especially as her condition grew increasingly apparent.

Breaking the kiss, Solas nibbled at her ear and her neck aggressively, grinning against her skin when she shivered. "Where should I take you, vhenan?" he teased.

"Fenedhis," she cursed, gasping before he kissed her again, hungrily. Then she pulled back, her eyes reflecting the dancing orange light of the fire. "Follow me."

"I am yours to command," he purred, low and husky.

Gripping his hand, Ellana led him out into the darkness, the crisp autumn grasses rustling and crunching underfoot. Halla milled about in the darkness, some sleeping standing up while others lay curled like fawns. Nesa and a few other adolescents stood watch over the halla while the adults celebrated. One of them—in the dark Ellana couldn't be sure who—let out the playful lover's call, a teasing sound meant as a blessing on couples. The clan had yet to recover its full numbers after the bandit attacks so new children were more than welcomed, they were encouraged.

The only downside to clan life was the lack of comfortable beds. The aravels were mainly for transporting goods, not for sleeping. The clan would set out tents or other movable, temporary structures for warmth in the winter, but during high summer or any night that was warm enough they slept out under the stars. That meant lovers did too, in whatever private and preferably dry spot they could secure. But Ellana was no stranger to midnight romps in a bedroll and neither, she knew, was Solas.

At the edge of the clearing she stopped and spread out the blankets she'd taken from the aravel. Solas didn't make the task easy, distracting her as his hands roved over her from behind and his hot breath fanned out over her neck only to be followed by his kisses. She groaned as her skin dimpled and a shiver passed through her. The night air was brisk away from the fire but she still began opening her coat and fumbling with her other clothing as Solas continued nibbling at her neck and her ear.

"The ground, vhenan?" he asked, chuckling low and playful. "I have a better idea." Wrapping his arms around her, Solas stilled her hands and motioned with his chin to a tree a few meters away that had grown with a split near the base that formed a V-shape. "Sit."

She shivered and made a noise of anticipation in her throat, guessing what he had in mind. "You never disappoint, emma lath."

Laughing, Solas released her, but not before one hand caught her rear and squeezed. Ellana gasped, laughing as she grabbed the blankets from the ground and sauntered to the tree, feeling his eyes on her, his hunger a palpable thing—as was her excitement. At the tree she faltered, unsure where to place the blanket, but Solas took over. Wrapping the pelt around her shoulders, he asked, "How am I to kiss you as you deserve with your breeches in the way?"

She grinned, purring her answer, "Mm, let me fix that problem for you." With him holding the pelt around her Ellana was able to reach down between them, but instead of gripping her own clothing she found his erection with both hands and squeezed. He let out a jagged breath through clenched teeth.

"I seem to have found your staff," she murmured, then laughed.

"I have no need of it yet," he said throatily and then kissed her, breathing fast. Pressing closer, he backed her into the tree, using her body to pin the pelt in place so he could free his hands. His fingers were cold at her waist as they dug at her belt, unfastening it with the ease of long practice. Ellana shivered, using one hand to help him while the other grabbed at the blanket to try keeping the chilly night air at bay.

When her pants were around her ankles Solas broke the long, sloppy kiss between them and grinned lasciviously. "Sit back, vhenan."

She half sat, half stumbled into the seat of the V-shaped tree trunk, her heart pounding and her blood pumping hot through her as he knelt between her legs. Her skin quivered at his caress, both from the slight chill of his fingers and the gentle, blunt nails he trailed along the inside and underside of her thighs. She gripped the right side of the tree trunk while her left hand kept the pelt around her for warmth. Her muscles snapped taut with anticipation as she felt his hot, moist breath on her sex, but he veered away to kiss and nibble along her thigh, teasing her as he always did.

"Solas," she moaned his name, aching for him and unable to think as he teased her again only to switch his kisses to the other thigh. "Solas, please…"

As if her entreaty had convinced him, Solas' mouth moved to her sex, his lips and tongue scalding on her sensitive flesh. He started slow, with gentle flicks of his tongue against her, each movement sending a zinger of pleasure through her. Ellana writhed, trying to keep herself from crying out as the pleasure spiraled inside her, but pregnant sex always had her on the edge, inches from toppling over the precipice. It was too much and she didn't have the self-control to hold back her moans as he changed tactics, growing more aggressive as he caressed her with more pressure and longer strokes.

When he sucked gently she gasped and cried out, the climax hitting her suddenly, making her entire body convulse and shake. Solas didn't stop swirling his tongue over her and Ellana bucked her hips as the pleasure twisted, as intense as fire licking up through her, consuming her from within. Before she knew what had happened another orgasm hit, waves of pleasure washing over her and stealing her breath away as she cried out wordlessly.

Panting and with her mind thick from pleasure, she couldn't form words or think as Solas stood up, a smug smirk on his face. Seeing his desire, still trapped inside his pants, Ellana grinned at him and reached for his waist to free his arousal. Solas edged closer to her, the warmth of his body warding away the frigid night air and already restarting the frantic pulse within her. As soon as she'd freed his erection, Ellana guided him inside her.

He groaned, shuddering over her, clinging close. His lips nuzzled her neck and then her ear, his breath puffing hot against her skin. "Vhenan," he whispered in her ear, "I doubt I can hold out long."

She moaned, already feeling the slick heat of pleasure building again. "Then that makes two of us."

Moaning, he rocked his hips, grinding against her inside and out, watching her face as he picked up speed. She kissed him, sucking on his lips, uncaring that she could taste herself on him. She arched her back; meeting his increasingly fast thrusts with her own growing need, feeling the pleasure spiraling until it exploded.

Crying out through gnashed teeth, she rode the waves of bliss as they shuddered through her for the third time and heard Solas grunt as his own climax hit. He gasped against her neck, panting as his hips bucked, emptying himself into her. Ellana felt him twitch inside her, the pulses of his pleasure alternating with hers.

As the rush of bliss passed, leaving them holding each other tightly, breathing fast and shoulders heaving, Solas laughed huskily. "I suspect your clan will have heard us."

She didn't miss the smug satisfaction in his grin, lit milky white by the moon overhead. "It was hardly a secret why we left the party." She nuzzled his ear, nipping at the pointy tip and smirking with delight when he shivered. "Everyone already knows I'm pregnant and trust me, the clan knows how babies are made."

Solas chuckled, turning his head and pulling back to touch his forehead to hers. "I have enjoyed seeing you happy tonight, vhenan." He cupped her cheeks in his hands and kissed her, quick and tender. "In more ways than one."

Ellana caught the nervousness in his tone and moved in for a slightly longer kiss, aiming to reassure him. When it broke she smiled at him through the dark. "They will accept you tomorrow as you are, not as the legends say." With her hand that wasn't still holding the pelt, Ellana brought one of his hands to the soft swell of her navel. "You are family now."

Moisture glinted in his eyes as he smiled at her, though Ellana could see the expression carried as much joy as it did grief. She remembered what he'd told her about his family in Elvhenan and squeezed his hand. "The clan is strong, emma lath. With the Fade rifts gone they can vanish into the forest at the threat of attack. They couldn't do that two years ago with demons at every turn. And now they have your protection. You will not lose us."

Solas took a breath inward and averted his eyes from her, still troubled, but what he said was, "Ar lath ma, vhenan. Bellanaris."

She turned his head toward her with two fingers on his chin and kissed him again. "Ar lath ma, Solas," she replied. "Bellanaris."

Next Chapter

"I'm not the one you should be most worried about," Dorian told her ominously. "Because you see, a supply caravan coming into Minrathous a few weeks back was attacked by a bunch of organized elven bandits. Most of the bandits escaped, but two were captured alive and, unfortunately for them, healthy enough for torture. When my illustrious colleagues in the Magisterium finally broke the poor bastards they told us they were Dalish."

Still clutching the crystal, but now with a sweaty palm, Ellana hugged herself, biting her lip. "Dalish?" she parroted, trying to sound surprised.

"Yes, as in your people." He made a little high-pitched noise through his nose. "Did I mention they were barefaced, Ellana? But that's not the best part of it all. They spouted gibberish about serving the Dread Wolf."