A/N: I found my first gray hairs today! So upsetting I had to go kill some Avvar and a troll in the Frostback Basin with my knight enchanter. But in better news, my husband is about ready to accept a new job so we'll finally be leaving the cold frozen wastelands of the north! Yay! Thanks again to everyone who's followed an favorited this! And BIG thanks to any and all who take the time to review, as always!

We are going into the angst...so, as Samuel L Jackson says in Jurassic Park, "Hold onto your butts." Rest assured though, it won't last too long.

Twenty

Broken Promise

The sight of Ellana grimacing as she cradled her left hand where the Anchor had flared to life made Solas scowl as he took in the scene. He bit back the press of worried words ready to rush out of him, questions about the Anchor and apologies for causing it with his spell. He could not be Solas right now, not arriving in his headdress fresh from greeting new elves eager to fight for him.

The four sentinel elves remained wary and alert, ready to execute the trespassers should he give the order, but Mathrel had already told Solas that Zaron and Arina had brought Ellana's friends here. It was a blatantly stupid act, thinly veiled as a desire to control the trespassers while Solas reset the eluvians. Lyris, meanwhile, just to his left and behind him, radiated a tight, nervous energy. Mathrel had already told Solas that Lyris brought Ellana, something her husband didn't approve of, and he wondered now if she worried she'd lost favor with him or had even garnered punishment. Both arcane warriors had known Felassan. They knew Solas didn't take deliberate failure or sabotage well.

Dorian spoke up then, his face twisting with a snarl. "Teleporting now, are we? That's a new trick. But then again, you're just full to the brim with new tricks since we last met." He raised one hand, listing them off on his fingers. "Banditry, rebellion, murder, theft—"

"Enough," Solas snapped with a dismissive wave of one hand. The single word carried, strong and powerful with authority. Dorian sneered but fell silent. "Why have you come?"

"The Divine is looking to discuss peace," Rainier answered, gruff. "She knows you are—or were—a reasonable man."

"They carried texts on them from the shattered library," Zaron added then, looking to Solas. "These are lies."

Dorian scoffed. "Naturally, condemn us for trying to learn something while we're hoping to stumble across you in the Crossroads with no clues as to your motives or location. Because we simply must be lying about—"

"Is it true?" Ellana blurted, drawing Solas' gaze. He had to tilt his head up slightly to see her better from under the headdress. She wore an expression that made his heart wrench with pain and regret, her lips curling with revulsion as she glared at him. "Tell me you're not attacking innocent people all over Thedas, taking their food."

His shoulders slumped as the weight of her furious stare tore at him, but he steeled himself, recovering. "We can discuss this later," he told her.

"No," she shouted, taking a step closer, left hand still cradled in her right though the Anchor's green light had faded. "Answer my question now. Are you ransacking human settlements for food to feed your army?"

Solas had known this would be a miserable day since waking before dawn to mingle with the latest arrivals. He didn't believe in superstition, but he hadn't been able to shake the coiling weight of anxiety in his belly all morning and now it seemed justified. Dorian, Rainier, Sera, and Iron Bull all stared at him with varying levels of hostility, awaiting his reply. It was Ellana's glare that made him feel as though jagged glass was cutting into him with each breath. He'd held back the logistics and other details of their growing army because it was what he always did, compartmentalizing his forces and keeping them in the dark. He led this force, not Ellana.

"We will discuss it later," Solas repeated firmly, then, before she could object, he motioned at the sentinels. "Take the prisoners to the far end of the ruins to the old cells and keep watch on them." As the sentinels nodded and stepped back, motioning at Dorian and the others, Solas spoke in a low voice to Lyris, "Go with them."

"Fen'Harel enansal," she murmured, quiet enough that perhaps the former Inquisition members wouldn't hear her, then she sprang over the jumbled, frosted stones from the collapsed roof and walls to do his bidding.

As their footsteps retreated, Ellana snarled at him. "How could you, Solas?"

"I do only what I must, vhenan," he replied, vehement but struggling to keep his voice calm and even. "I take no joy in it, but the army we created must eat and the land here cannot sustain so many over the winter. I have no powerful allies, as you did through the Inquisition, and no mark for the foolish faithful to construe as divine. This modern world abhors both magic and elves. So we must take what we can."

"By attacking innocent people," Ellana retorted, brow furrowing and her eyes clouded with both anger and sorrow. "How many people have you killed in these raids? How many more will die of starvation because we took their food and supplies?" She shook her head, appearing as though she might vomit. "We could have traded for some food. We have plenty of animal skins and ironbark. We could—"

"Raids would still be necessary," Solas interrupted heatedly. At her angry frown Solas felt some of his own emotion drain away. "I'm sorry, vhenan. I should have told you of this, but I knew it would trouble you. I worry for your health with the child and winter setting in." Shame stabbed at him, whittling away at the cold resolve keeping him from going to her, closing the gap to hold her if she'd allow it. "I did not intend to move so quickly, but with the foci and with our child coming I must act."

"You used me and the Inquisition to keep control of the elvuians," she muttered, her nostrils flaring and shoulders heaving. "And now you use them for war just the way the Qunari planned."

"Eluvians have always been used for war as much as travel," Solas told her sadly. He lowered his gaze to the stones strewn about underfoot, all which remained of the once proud and beautiful outpost Andruil had created ages ago. "I am not the first to use them for that purpose. As long as the network exists, it will be used for both good and ill. There is no escaping that."

Seeing the rage still coloring her face, Solas looked away again, jaw clenching. "I did not use you, vhenan. I may have taken advantage of your position and your power, but you would have done the same in my place. And I did so with your full understanding. You knew I am the dread Wolf. You knew I had plans for the eluvians. I have not misled you."

"I did not have full understanding," Ellana growled. "You never told me you planned to use the eluvians like this. I would never have supported it."

"Would you have preferred the Qunari?" Solas rejoined, unable to keep the quiet rage from his own voice now.

Ellana jerked her head away from him as if he'd hit her. Her lips pinched in a tight line and a muscle feathered in her jaw.

The sight of her anger made Solas' own emotions fizzle. He had to make this right. With his voice soft now, he said, "I have ever been your ally, vhenan. Yes, I have taken advantage of that, but never under false pretense once I revealed myself to you. I hope that you know by now that you will always mean more to me than any other, vhenan."

Some of the furious red blush on her face eased, though she continued breathing harder and faster than normal. Then she said, "Take off the headdress, Solas."

Calling only a tiny bit of energy from his core, Solas' palms glowed and he passed his hands over his head, removing the enchantment from the headdress that kept it glued tightly to him. He closed his eyes as the magic finished surging through him, always relishing the pleasurable sensation it left, like stretching a muscle. Then he gripped the headdress and pulled it backward, off his bald scalp. The chilly autumn air made his hairless scalp and neck cold on contact but he ignored the sensation.

Staring at Ellana, he let out a long, sad breath. "Ma nuvenin, vhenan." Solas took a few steps toward her, picking his way almost unconsciously through the crumbling bricks littering the ruin. He held the headdress in his hands in front of him, his head bowed. "Tell me how to make things right between us, vhenan. Let us reach a compromise."

Her brow knit, her green eyes dark with doubt that made Solas nearly flinch. "I don't want to be your ally, Solas," she said, her voice deep with melancholy. "I want to be your partner."

Now he did flinch, torn as both irritation and anxiety warred inside him, setting his heart racing. Solas had never shared power equally. Ever. The closest he had come was with Mythal and that'd wound up getting her killed. Just as he'd been unable to shake the sensation of dread since waking this morning, he couldn't dispel the certainty that the closer someone was to him the more devastating the consequences. Already Ellana had lost her position in the Inquisition due to his own loss of control with the Templars. He had to consider the dangers of sharing power with another, not just the risk of betrayal, but the risk that his partner would be used against him and targeted—exactly as Mythal had been.

There was no logic behind the superstition, only painful emotion shaped by experience, but that made it no less powerful. He couldn't deny it, couldn't lie to Ellana or make a promise if he couldn't keep it. Soon none of it would likely matter. He was unlikely to survive reshaping the world anyway.

"Forgive me," he said, his throat tight. "I have never shared power, only led or served. My path is one best trod alone." Unbidden he recalled laying helpless and weak in the ruins of his uthenera chamber, clutching the foci and feeling the frustration, terror, and despair of knowing he lacked the strength to survive and would die unfulfilled. Suddenly shaky, Solas pivoted around and walked back to the short crumbling stairs, his pulse hissing in his ears. He had to return to the troops, had to fight to make his life and his death meaningful.

"Solas," Ellana called to him and he heard her feet crunch over the frosty grass. "Please—don't shut me out. Don't push me away." The anger in her voice had given way to something raw and painful. "You don't have to do this alone. You don't have to sacrifice yourself, dammit! There's another way."

He froze at the top of the stairs, a niggling though like a splinter lodged in his mind. Mythal. "What other way?" he asked, the words guarded. He didn't turn to look at her, knowing that if he did he'd let himself think about losing her, in his death or with her own, never seeing their child grow and never living to appreciate the new world they'd fought for.

"I can use the Anchor to open rifts and expand them slowly," Ellana said, rushing to explain. "We can stabilize them—you've said so yourself. We would only need to hold off the humans until then. They won't want whatever land we restore because they're terrified of the Fade. Doing the work in pieces would save you, emma lath. Please."

Solas' head bowed, eyes closing. What she said was technically possible, but there were so many things wrong with it. The entirety of Thedas should be restored to correct his mistake. There would be thousands of elves still outside of the immortality the Fade provided, still helpless and enslaved or indentured and impoverished. Ellana made defending the area sound so simple, but it would be far from easy. The humans might fight them on principle, even knowing the Fade had been unleashed within it. Worst of all, they could adapt and overcome their Andrastian fears of spirits as plenty of other human cultures had. Spirits and demons would be blocked from the stabilized tear, but inevitably they'd find ways through from time to time, driven by curiosity or desire. Corralling them like that made Solas' stomach clench—it wasn't fair to them to place the waking world in their own and then ban them from it.

Thedas should be whole, he thought. The way it once was. The way it was before I destroyed it.

Slowly, still holding the wolf headdress clasped in both hands, Solas turned to face her. Her eyes searched him and he didn't miss the way her expression fell, her shoulders slumping and her throat working as she swallowed. She'd already read the answer from his demeanor alone.

"Ir abelas, vhenan," he murmured, avoiding her gaze. "The Veil must be destroyed in whole. There is no other solution I can foresee working in the long term. What you suggest would kill many more of the People and we would have to defend our holdings. It is too visible, and incomplete—unfair to both the People and the beings of the Fade."

"But it will spare your life," Ellana repeated, almost shouting. "Once we are immortal we can expand it as we need." Her smile trembled, hopeful and desperate at once. "But we will need an Evanuris and you're the only one we've got."

If he hadn't been so miserable, Solas would've chuckled. Instead he just shook his head gloomily. "That is not a reason to legitimize cowardice to allow me to shirk responsibility. I created the Veil, vhenan. I destroyed the People. Only I can return what we've lost."

"But it doesn't have to cost your life," Ellana said, her voice shrill. Her hands had fallen to her small belly through the coat, a motion that never failed to draw Solas' gaze. He looked now and winced, longing to turn away if it would ease the sudden forlorn ache inside his ribs.

"It may not," Solas said, forcing a wan smile. He didn't believe his own words, but hoped they'd bring her comfort.

Her green eyes glimmered with moisture, but her jaw clenched and her nostrils flared with anger again. "Solas, please…"

Casting his eyes downward, Solas drew in a silent breath and raised the headdress. He pulled it on, his chilled scalp and neck glad of the covering, and then resumed the spell to keep it on with a quick pass of both palms over his head. "We can discuss this…" He paused, realizing his words were a lie. He had been about to tell her they'd speak tonight, but he'd planned secretly for the last few days to leave this afternoon into the Crossroads. The time had come for him to lead the assault on the Forgotten Ones.

And Solas had planned to leave without telling Ellana—because he could not take her with him.

Seeing her frown, the fury and stubborn determination still in her posture, Solas knew she'd fight him if she knew the truth. She'd demand to accompany him despite the danger to her life, their child, and the risk of destabilizing the Anchor on top of everything else. As much as he wanted to keep his promise never to lie to her, he had to make an exception this time for her own good.

Sighing, he spoke with more resolve now. "We will discuss this tonight." At her anguished, angry glare he added, "Ir abelas, vhenan, but I am needed elsewhere, however, messengers have told me clan Lavellan has sent warriors. Your brother is among them." He hoped she would take joy in her family while he was away and that by now, with the passage of several weeks, the Keeper had completed the gifts he'd asked her to create for Ellana.

"What of Dorian and the others?" she asked before he could turn away.

He frowned slightly. "I cannot reset the eluvians just yet," he admitted, though he didn't explain why, hoping she wouldn't ask or notice. "We shall keep them here until I can." He nodded to her. "I suspect they'll have questions for you."

"What am I supposed to tell them?" Ellana asked, anger mottling her cheeks. "They came here on a mission of peace but you have no intention of meeting with them to discuss it, do you?"

"Unless they were to agree to restore the world with us there is nothing to discuss." Seeing her hands curl into fists at her sides, Solas winced as something ached inside his chest, regretting the hard truth. "I do only what I must to ensure success," he repeated, as cold and stoic as he could manage. "Contrary to what I expect they will tell you, Ellana, the raids we have conducted are not bloody. Only those who fight us are slain."

She huffed out a breath, still glaring at him and then her shoulders slumped and her rage transformed abruptly to despair. "This is not how things should be," she said, voice trembling. Then she repeated herself, "Don't shut me out, Solas. Please…"

"We will speak soon," Solas promised her and then, considering he could conceivably perish fighting the Forgotten Ones, he moved down the steps and enfolded her in an embrace. Inhaling deeply, he stroked her soft hair, trying to ignore the way she shook in his arms and didn't return his hug the way she usually did. "Ar lath ma, vhenan," he murmured and pressed his forehead to hers, ignoring the awkwardness of the headdress.

Ellana pulled away from him, partly turning her back. Her rigid shoulders spoke of her bottled fury, as did the slight, rough tremor in her voice. "Dareth shiral," she told him and stalked off, heading in the direction the sentinels and Lyris had left in.

Watching her go, Solas felt something hard aching in his chest, like a stone lodged against his heart and lungs. When she disappeared around a half-collapsed wall, Solas closed his eyes and summoned his magic again, vanishing as suddenly as he'd appeared.

Ellana wasn't sure if the burning in her throat was just heartburn or if fury fueled it. Marching through the dilapidated ruins, she made her way to another, smaller courtyard where yet another jumbled staircase descended belowground. Ancient elves had painted the pale stones with images of halla in yellow-gold and white figures riding black mounts, along with doodles inside the cells occasionally that were less artistic and more graffiti. Ellana and Solas' chamber, also a former cell, had an image on one wall of two female figures engaged in a lewd act. The artist, likely a prisoner long ago, had used ash and blood as ink.

The stale air belowground held a sour scent, chill against her skin but warmer than aboveground. The passageway was dark, unlit by natural fire though several veilfire torches now cast a flickering green light. Marching past gateless cells where the metal bars or whatever had formed the door had long since decayed, Ellana saw Lyris and two sentinels beside one cell near the end of the hall. All three elves watched her approach with trepidation.

"Ellana," Lyris greeted her when she reached the cell. "Has hahren given instructions on what must be done with the prisoners?"

Seeing the cell they'd chosen to toss her friends into, Ellana scowled. The ancient iron bars had rusted into red dust in spots, leaving sizable gaps that someone as lean as Sera could possible squeeze through. And a man as strong and massive as Iron Bull or even Rainier would easily be able to knock the bars aside with a charge, breaking the fragile steel in either the hinges or the lock. It was a flimsy prison, yet her former companions made no attempt to challenge their captors—yet. Their eyes glimmered green from the nearest veilfire torch.

"Ugh," Sera said with a groan, squinting against the green light. "I hate that green fire stuff."

Swallowing to try and ease the gathering fire in her throat, Ellana spoke to Lyris, "Solas said to keep them here for now." She didn't care that she'd confirmed that hahren was their veiled term for Solas, that he was indeed their leader. Stepping in front of the cell, she tucked her arms behind her and squared her shoulders, trying to feel more self-assured than she actually did about what she was about to do.

"Dorian," she said with a tight smile. "You said the Divine is seeking a peaceful solution to conflict in this elven uprising?"

"I did say that, yes," he answered lips quirking as though they didn't know whether to smile or frown. "What I didn't say in front of…him was that I volunteered to leave the Imperium after I had an encounter in a dream with a certain witch who helped us defeat Corypheus. You know, the one who turned into a dragon?"

Ellana nodded. "Morrigan has visited me in the Fade as well."

"She seems to have grown quite significantly in power recently, wouldn't you say?" Dorian asked, the words slow and carefully enunciated with meaning. He motioned to the sentinel elves lingering behind Ellana. "I told these two about it when we ran across them in the Crossroads. And that's what made them bring us here."

Lyris made a noise of disgust in her throat, but otherwise said nothing. Turning her head, Ellana glared at the other woman. "Shouldn't you be with Solas? I truly don't need a babysitter. My friends aren't going to attack me."

The other woman shook her head, steely blue eyes narrowing. "Ellana…" her voice carried a warning. Undoubtedly she sensed Ellana's rage simmering just beneath the surface and could guess something unpleasant for Fen'Harel was about to happen.

"Stay if you prefer," Ellana told her with a glare. "But don't try and stop me." Facing Dorian and the others again, Ellana said, "Fen'Harel will not discuss any terms of peace with you, but I will."

At Solas' Evanuris name spoken aloud Lyris gasped and cursed in elven. "Ellana," she hissed. "You go too far." Grabbing her by the forearm, Lyris began pulling her away from the cell.

Ellana ripped free with a snarl. "Do not touch me." They glowered at one another through the greenish dim light. The sentinels were frozen, silent as they watched the confrontation. From the cell behind them Sera sniggered, a nervous twittering that ended in a snort.

The sound made Lyris blink as she withdrew, raising her hands in submission. Her gaze had become sorrowful and pleading. "You are making a mistake, da'len. Think of Felassan. Think of your child—your future."

"I am," Ellana growled under her breath. "I won't help Solas destroy the world and kill himself or my friends. Thedas belongs to everyone, not just the elves."

Lyris pinched her lips together. "Say no more, please."

Ignoring Lyris' begging, Ellana pivoted to the cell again and cleared her throat, trying not to feel as though she needed to vomit. "I have a steep request to ask of the Divine," she said. "I must have the Dales returned to the elven people, immediately."

Dorian's jaw dropped as he stared at her, speechless. Rainier and Sera both watched her with wide, shocked eyes, but Iron Bull grinned. "Way to go big, Boss."

"You cannot be serious," Dorian said, shaking his head in consternation. "You know she'll never agree to that. Even if she did, I'm certain the Orlesians would never accept it. The Dales have been theirs for…what? Seven hundred years? I applaud your bravado, old girl, but negotiations usually mean compromise. What could you possibly grant in return?"

"The rest of Thedas," Ellana answered deadpan.

Dorian burst into a laugh. "I'm sorry, really I am, but have you gone mad? I can't tell Cassandra that. She'll think I'm making it up or she'll assume that shabby, wolf-loving filth of yours has enchanted me somehow too. Delusional Dorian, that's what she and Leliana will call me."

Aware of Lyris' stare on her back, Ellana said, "You can tell the Divine that the uprisings will soon be the least of her worries." She sighed, taking the plunge. "The Dread Wolf intends to take all of Thedas for the elven people. Sacrifice the Dales or lose Thedas. It should be an easy decision."

Dorian snorted, his mouth hanging open in ongoing shock. "Ridiculous. You cannot believe this."

"Is Solas somehow this Dread Wolf?" Rainier asked, his bushy eyebrows meeting over the bridge of his nose. "I still can't believe it."

"The Herald of Andraste and a fucking demon," Sera snarled. "Load of codswallop, that is."

"He's a vessel," Iron Bull supplied. "Like that Flemeth."

"Dragon lady," Sera said and sniggered.

"Ellana," Lyris hissed behind her, still trying to stop her.

Ignoring both Lyris and the tense sentinels, Ellana said, "Solas is Fen'Harel. He is not a vessel, not a demon, and it's not a title inspired by legends."

The four of them gawked at her. They'd known or highly suspected Solas' connection with the Dread Wolf for months now, but hearing Ellana actually say it aloud was naturally shocking. Behind her Lyris cursed in elven and suddenly strode away, her boots clapping over the ancient stones. Ellana gnashed her teeth as she heard the warrior leaving, already knowing exactly where—and who—Lyris would retrieve.

"But how?" Dorian asked, eyes searching her. The green light flickered over all of their shocked faces.

Ellana swallowed again, her stomach roiling. "That's not important. What is important is that the world will change dramatically very soon." She felt her hands curl into fists. "Fen'Harel and I disagree on how extreme those changes must be. Give me the Dales and I may be able to convince him not to go through with his plans and choose mine instead."

"Solas can't actually hope to take over Thedas," Rainier said, frowning beneath his thick mustache and beard. "He wouldn't stand a chance against that many fronts. Everyone would oppose him. Thousands would be slaughtered—humans and elves." His eyes were dark and solemn as he stared at Ellana. "My lady, you cannot support this."

Ellana smiled at him. "I don't, Thom."

"But that can't be what he's planning," Dorian said with a nod, brow furrowing as he thought. "That bald bastard is too clever for something so…brutish."

They know so little, Ellana thought and sighed, hunger and acid writhing in her gut. The baby squirmed and she rubbed at her belly when it made a particularly strong kick. Your father is going to be so furious with me, little one. Oddly, she smiled, hard and humorless and cold at the thought.

"It's not his plan," she confirmed for Dorian. "I'm sorry, but I can't tell you any more than that."

"Whatever it is, Boss believes it will work," Iron Bull observed aloud, reaching out to grip Dorian's forearm. His demeanor was somber, even grim. He growled deep in his throat. "That's the part that's important, Dorian."

The four of them looked to her with newfound horror and Ellana drew in a shaky breath as she twisted to motion at the sentinels. "Did Mythal contact you both?"

Zaron, a middle-aged man with silvered hair, nodded. "She has, yes. She warned us we would encounter trespassers in the Crossroads and that we should bring them here. Fen'Harel may demand our lives for it."

"Ouch," Sera mumbled, shuffling in place and looking to her feet. "Shite."

"I will try to protect you," Ellana reassured them in a quiet voice. She saw a look of gratitude pass over Arina's face, though Zaron remained grim.

"You may be unable to protect anyone soon," Zaron said in a low voice. "You should not have revealed hahren."

"Are you in danger, my lady?" Rainier asked, sounding concerned.

"I'll take my chances," Ellana said, both to Zaron and Rainier. "But I appreciate the concern."

"If he lays one finger on you, Maker's balls, I'll strangle him myself," Dorian blustered.

Sera snorted, laughing. "Think it's a bit late for that, Dad, with her growing a baby and all. Droopy ears laid a whole lot more 'n a finger on her. In her, too." She broke off, chortling.

Ellana scowled, her cheeks burning. "Yes, thank you for that obvious and unnecessary comment, Sera."

"What?" Sera asked with a shrugging gesture. "Like you all weren't thinking it too. `Specially you, Thom."

He started to protest at once, sounding both amused and aghast simultaneously. "I was not—"

"Enough," Ellana growled, pinching the bridge of her nose. After a quick steadying breath, Ellana looked ot the sentinels. "Can I trust you both not to repeat everything I've said to Solas?"

"Do you serve Mythal?" Arina asked, her voice and expression tense.

"I serve what I think is best for both the People and the other races of Thedas," Ellana said, deliberately vague before she gave a slight nod. "Right now Mythal's plans sound to me like everyone's best option."

Arina shot a quick glance at Zaron and then both of them dipped their heads in bows. "We will aid you as best we can in hiding whatever you plan," Arina said and then, flashing a smile, she said, "Fen'Asha." She-Wolf.

Oh no, Ellana thought with an exasperated sigh. "Not another title, please."

"Why not?" Dorian asked. "You seem to collect them, Inquisitor."

"Herald of Andraste," Sera added with a smirk. "Your worshipfulness. Lady elfy-elfness."

Ignoring their bantering, Ellana pressed on, a note of urgency entering her voice. "I will soon be leaving through the eluvian—in the next day or two I suspect. I don't know how long Solas will keep you all here, but if you've returned to Halamshiral by then I can stop by that eluvian and reactivate it." She drew in a deep breath. "I could use help." From people who aren't connected to the elven pantheon, she thought with a frown.

"We are to accompany you," Arina said. "Mythal instructed us as such."

"I know," Ellana said with a nod. "And I appreciate all the help I can get in this."

Zaron scowled. "There is no place in the new Elvhenan for humans and Qunari."

"I'm Tal-Vashoth, actually," Iron Bull corrected him, unfazed by Zaron's racism.

"I doubt he cares about the semantics," Dorian said sourly.

"Did Mythal tell you that?" Ellana asked, anger making the words curt and clipped. "Because maybe you hadn't noticed, but her new vessel is a human woman. I'd wager Mythal doesn't much care who helps us create a new elven homeland."

The older sentinel muttered unhappily under his breath, averting his gaze. Beside him Arina's expression was cautious but open. Ellana read it as meaning the rogue sentinel trusted her and wouldn't put up an argument. Good, she thought.

"I'll go with you," Dorian agreed immediately, his brown eyes somber. "Though I think it'd be best if we acquired some weapons before we took off." He spread his hands, palms out to show he was unarmed.

"Yeah," Sera grumbled, jerking her chin toward the sentinels behind Ellana. "Those tits made me toss my best bow into the…whatever…in the Crossroads. And all my arrows, yeah? Took me hours to make 'em and you blighters just whiff." She made a swooshing sound with her lips and then clapped her hands together. "Splat. Andraste's ass, where does that shite come out? Cuz I want my stuff back!"

"Speaking of which, I lost a great sword and my shield the same way," Rainier grumbled.

"We'll worry about that later," Ellana reassured them, smiling slightly at their antics. "If it comes down to it, we have plenty of weapons here. I don't know exactly when I—"

When the veilfire torches abruptly dimmed, spluttering with the sudden cold wind that whipped through the corridor, a chill raced through up Ellana's back. Turning her head to gaze down the long hall to where the bright white of the outside sunlight reflected off the pale stone walls. She saw the shadow pass over the entrance, as complete as though the clouds had obscured the sun. But she knew in her gut this was no innocent cloud and only moments later the shadow flowed down the ruined stairs.

The sentinels behind her both inhaled sharply, tensing as if they expected violence. Ellana watched, her jaw clenching and her shoulders hunched with her own rage, as the shadow became a familiar man, walking with the authoritative, deadly stride of a commander. Yet the shadow lingered around him, an unnatural and brooding darkness that made her blood seem to freeze with ice. Even his armored thighs, usually resplendent and shiny, seemed dulled by it. The shadow as much as distance obscured his face.

"Ellana," he called her name in a growl.

She shot Dorian, Iron Bull, Sera, and Rainier one last glance, noting their concerned expressions, then pivoted to face Solas and marched toward him. "Emma lath?" she asked him, her voice mockingly sweet.

"Come with me," he ordered her, cold and stoic. She still couldn't make out his features as she drew closer.

Despite the fury still curdling the acids in her stomach, Ellana followed him as Solas whipped around on his heel and strode to the stairs. The magic emanating from Solas made her skin prickle, the fine hairs all over her body standing upright. The baby kicked against her stomach, making her feel less hungry and more like vomiting with every movement.

They emerged into the sunshine, cheery and innocent, as though taunting the angry intensity between them. Out of the shadows Solas was no longer shrouded in darkness, but his armor didn't gleam the way she expected it and his skin seemed ashen despite the fury she could see smoldering just beneath his blue-gray eyes and in the stubborn set of his lips.

Lyris and Mathrel stood a few dozen meters away, giving them a measure of space while still being within earshot. Ellana glowered at Lyris until the Elvhen woman evaded her gaze, something akin to shame darkening her features.

Solas gripped her by the shoulders then, his hold tight enough to make her wince before she tried to take a step back, to shrug his hands off her. "Let go of me," she spat.

"Do you not understand our position?" Solas asked her, biting each word out. "We cannot achieve our goals if you reveal our plans to our enemies!" His grip tightened, the metal on his fingers biting into her skin. "Why did you betray me, vhenan? Why must you oppose me at every turn? Do you delight in causing me pain?"

"I could ask you the same thing," Ellana snarled, even as she saw the anguish in his gaze. "They are not our enemies. They could be allies if you would but listen."

He shook his head, a bitter, scornful look clouding the pain of seconds ago. "Have you forgotten so quickly that our friends were willing to separate us for the rest of our lives by locking me away in a Circle? The same friend who claims she seeks peace through Dorian was the one who ordered my arrest. When she learns I am indeed responsible for the unrest in Thedas, do you truly believe she will welcome you for peace negotiations?"

She swallowed, her throat burning and aching and tight. He was right, as much as she hated admitting it. Stubborn and determined to convince him, Ellana started to defend herself anyway. "There is no harm in trying. I refuse to give up. There is a way our people and the rest of Thedas can coexist." Her fury dissolved at the cold misery and temper still burning in his eyes, despite his ashen skin and oddly subdued armor. "I'm trying to save you, save everyone. It's worth the risk."

"No, it is not," Solas snarled. "If you were to leave my protection now that Dorian and the others know who and what I truly am they will take you and hold you against me." He broke off, swallowing. "I could not bear such a loss, vhenan." Closing his eyes and releasing her, he withdrew a step and let out a shuddering breath.

Then, Solas called to the arcane warriors, "Lyris, Mathrel. Take Ellana to our room and stand watch over her."

Shock made Ellana gape at him a heartbeat, but anger quickly burned through her as the arcane warriors stepped forward to do his bidding. "Solas—don't do this. I came here to fight at your side, but you've done nothing but push me away for weeks. Now I'm to be your prisoner?" She let out a strained, unbelieving laugh. "You cannot be serious."

The look he sent her way was pinched, brow furrowed and eyes crinkled with anguish. "Ir abelas, vhenan. I cannot let your compassion and naivety destroy any chance we have of restoring the People." His shoulders sank. "And I cannot allow you to endanger yourself and our child."

The fury swelling inside her, scorching her blood from within, made her twist violently out of Mathrel's hold as he tried to grip her bicep. She slapped at him with her other hand, incensed. She cursed in elven and then, as Lyris appeared at her other side and took her arm there, the rage dissolved into despair. She would never be able fight the warriors, both of them much stronger than she and fully armored. More importantly, her pregnancy had advanced enough that it did impact her balance and she knew she'd be unlikely to outmaneuver them and could injure herself or the child. Slumping and shaking with emotion, she tried to restrain the surge of tears and failed as she began to sob.

"This isn't right, Solas," she cried. "Please. Don't do this."

"Forgive me, vhenan," he replied, gruff and hoarse with emotion. "But you leave me no choice." To the warriors he said, "Watch over her until I return. Allow no visitors except her family and clan members."

"Until you return?" Ellana asked, brow furrowing and voice trembling. And then, seeing the dullness of his armor and skin and still sensing the tingle of magic over her body emanating from him, the answer solidified in her mind. He had cast some strange magic over himself, preparing for battle. Her throat closed and she made a choking sound, struggling to speak. "You're leaving. Today. Now. The Forgotten Ones."

His expression hardened. "I am. I could not risk telling you. It is too dangerous for you." His head drooped. "I'm sorry."

"You promised me you wouldn't hide things from me," she hissed, shaking violently and feeling sick to her stomach. "You promised not to lie."

"I had to make an exception," he said, scowling. "For your safety. I cannot risk you."

"Liar," she spat. "Harellen."

He cringed at the insult and averted his gaze. "If that is what I must be to ensure you and our child are safe, then so be it." He motioned slightly at the warriors. "Go."

Ellana glared at him as they dragged her off, her skin broiling despite the cold, heated by the rage in her blood. The Dread Wolf was determined to endure the sacrifice of restoring Thedas alone. The realization that she couldn't trust him hit her like a hammer blow to the chest, crushing her heart and twisting like a knife between her ribs. She went limp, sobbing inconsolably all the way back to the tiny cell that functioned as their bedroom.

Inside she curled into a ball, as much as her burgeoning belly allowed without compressing her stomach too much, and willed herself to sleep. Not because she hoped to encounter Mythal, but just to stop feeling or thinking. Just for a few hours of respite…

The darkness closed over her.

Next Chapter:

"Solas will have to get through me before he can get to you." Iron Bull's voice rumbled, deep and reassuring. He had yet to even break a sweat as he jogged. "And when you mess with the Bull, you get the horns."

"Your horns are most impressive," Mahanon said, puffing with exertion as they crossed the rock bridge. "But the Dread Wolf is a god."