A/N: Had some trouble logging in to , so not sure what's up with that. As the title suggests, there's a lot of tension in this chapter (of multiple types) but this IS a romance so, we gotta have some fluff. But it's still SFW this chapter. The smut will happen next chapter.

Twenty-Seven

Magic Lessons with Handsy Hahren

In the raw Fade the rune circles that'd been completed became shadowy barriers, impossible to enter for spirits, demons, or physical beings like Solas, Ellana, and the half dozen others who'd stepped through the rift. As Abelas, Mahanon, and two other sentinels began drawing the runes for this third circle using their blood to tie it to the physical plane, Solas lingered near the shadow barriers, a mild frown over his face as he probed them with one palm and reached outward with his magic. The darkness was smooth, like river stones, and it glimmered a faint green-yellow when he stroked it.

"Is there a way to make it permeable?" Ellana asked quietly from behind him.

Solas didn't answer for several heartbeats as his mind swirled with the challenge. The runes stabilized the tiny breach in the Veil, preventing it from unraveling further. It was like another Veil in that respect, which was why it prevented passage to and from the raw Fade. However, this barrier was weaker than the Veil as well. Solas could feel it stretch and bend under his magical senses. A demon or spirit with enough willpower to cross the Veil would likely find this barrier no trouble at all, and the minds of sleeping mortals on the other side hadn't been affected.

Well, his mind hadn't. It was possible the others inside the circles had been unable to cross into the raw Fade in their sleep as all mortals except dwarves did every night. With time and exploration Solas knew he'd ferret out that detail with the help of Ellana and possibly Mahanon as newly awakened low-level Dreamers. Could they pierce this barrier to access the dreams of those outside it, or was that denied to all but the most powerful Dreamers, such as himself?

"I suspect so," he answered Ellana without turning to look at her. "Perhaps with elements of a summoning circle we may allow spirits free and safe passage."

"Will you be able to try it with this circle?" she asked, a note of hope and eagerness in her voice that tugged his lips into a small smile. "We could try testing it with Cole, if he wants and if it'd be safe for him to try."

"I am sure Cole will be happy to test it for us." Adjusting his stance, Solas faced her, letting her see his smile. "And I will try to make this circle permeable, yes."

They stood in a marshy spot, littered with pockets of water made slimy with Fade ether, its raw potential a song in his ears, begging to be shaped. It tickled his exposed skin and reached into his mana core, caressing it with a teasing shadow of his full power. It was hard not to react with glee, just the way he had at Adamant, but as he surveyed the raw Fade around them, Solas saw several sentinels had already finished their runes, leaving them on sandbars and rocks or any other object they could move into place.

Primitive, he thought with a flash of irritation.

"I'd like to make a few additional alterations to your current method," Solas said, slipping into his old role of supplicant to the Inquisitor as he searched over her face for approval. He knew she must harbor lingering resentment and distrust after learning his full involvement with Corypheus and the explosion at the conclave. Or was it just that he'd lied to her about it? Regardless, he could be merely Solas for her and treat her as the leader here if it appeased her.

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Oh?"

"What you and the sentinels have done here, while impressive, is unsustainable for both yourselves and the beings of the Fade," he told her with a dip of his chin.

"How so?" she asked and he didn't miss the way her eyes narrowed with a flicker of doubt. It wasn't herself she doubted—it was him.

Restraining the desire to sigh, Solas motioned at the gray-green Fade stone to their far left. It rose in jagged peaks, gleaming with the slimy essence of the Fade itself, beckoning Solas like an old lover. His fingers tingled with his magic and willpower, but he held it in check. "This third circle of yours abuts the stone here. How will you connect another circle to it in that direction?"

Then, with his other hand, Solas indicated the marshy plain, extending out into mists that glimmered green. "The ether of the Fade can be as deep as oceans, and more expansive than the Waking Sea." He smirked at her. "Drawing your runes out there will prove most difficult, will it not?"

Ellana crossed her arms over her chest and cocked her head to one side, her expression both amused and irritated. "I seem to remember my Keeper calling you 'Roamer of the Beyond.' I'm going to be sorely disappointed if you don't have a solution handy."

"Well," Solas said, keeping his tone lighthearted, "I certainly cannot abide the thought of disappointing you or your Keeper, vhenan." Taking a step past her, Solas walked toward the nearest rune and the sentinel standing beside it. The sand and water of the Fade gripped his armored feet with moist sucking noises. Solas twisted at the waist after a few steps and extended his arm to aid Ellana as she followed. She didn't hesitate as she took his arm.

Together they walked to the sentinel—Solas recognized him as Zaron—who stood beside the sandbar where he'd used his own blood to draw out the rune. Now he tensed, eyeing Solas as a muscle feathered in his jaw. One hand, dripping blood, was clenched at his side, but the other closed into a fist as well when Solas neared.

"Fen'Harel," he muttered, cold and stoic.

Solas had avoided interacting with any of the sentinels, including and especially Abelas. Despite fantasizing about petrifying the other man, Solas had opted on restraint, knowing it'd please Ellana. Yet that didn't stop the rage from curdling the acid in his stomach and setting a blush of fury rising up from his neck. These traitors had abandoned his army at the worst possible moment, leaving them more vulnerable to the Forgotten Ones' wrath. Solas couldn't stop himself from wondering if they'd have lost fewer modern elves with the experience of the sentinels aiding them.

He'd have to find a way to exact punishment at some later point.

Ignoring the sentinel entirely, Solas said, "This is hardly acceptable." He relished the way Zaron bristled, shoulders squaring and hands fidgeting once before he stilled himself, remaining silent. Cutting a look to Ellana with one brow arched, Solas asked, "Would you allow me to improve it?"

Her lips quirked, caught between frowning and smiling with consternation. "Why are you asking me?"

Solas tugged at the wolf pelt secured over one shoulder, evading her gaze. "You are in charge here, are you not?"

"Solas," she said and he could hear the frown in her voice. "What are you implying?"

Lifting his eyes to meet hers, Solas feigned innocent ignorance. "Nothing, vhenan. I merely defer to your leadership. This is your plan and it is not without its merits—though there is also much left to be desired." He let the last word take on a more teasing lilt to try and defuse the suspicion and irritation he saw darkening her green eyes and tensing the line of her body. Then, determined to drive home his point, he cut a sidelong glare toward Zaron. "Unless, of course, you are unwittingly just another of Mythal's tools? Was I mistaken in calling this your plan? Or is it her plan? Regardless, I do not wish to offend by altering—"

"Fenedhis, Solas," Ellana growled, curling her lip. "Enough already. I asked for your help as a partner. I'm not Inquisitor and this isn't the Inquisition."

"You did not answer my question," he pointed out with a slight, restrained frown.

She huffed, laying both hands over her belly. "This is my plan as much as Mythal's, but I'm doing it because I feel it is right. For the People and for all of Thedas." The way her fingers splayed over her rounded abdomen drew Solas' attention and the hard, cold stubbornness in his core eased. Her deeper meaning lay unspoken between them—that the future she hoped to create with this plan was for saving him. Their child needed a father.

With a nod, Solas said, "Very well." Turning toward the sandbar where Zaron had painted the rune, he motioned at it, again holding back the squirming eagerness inside him to reshape it. "My suggestion is that we create a proper mounting for the rune." With one hand he made a grabbing motion in the air and felt the pleasurable flex of magic twist through him as his will and the ether of the Fade connected. The Fade bent to him, its ethereal caress as soft and familiar as any lover, and the sandbar rose waist high, green ether swirling into it from the marshy land around them.

Ellana gaped, inhaling sharply. Solas cut his eyes to her, fighting away the proud smirk that tried to steal over his lips. With but a thought, Solas changed the sandbar into tawny stone, but left the rune untouched on its flat top. Then, satisfied, he let his hand fall to his side. "Much better."

Zaron snorted but said nothing. Such simple and small reshaping of the Fade would never impress a survivor of Elvhenan. Solas ignored the sentinel as he turned and beckoned Ellana closer. "I believe you may activate it now."

Still appearing stunned by his easy alteration, Ellana stepped into position and raised her left hand. Green magic shot out, prickling Solas' skin with its familiar touch. The rune crackled as it activated, glowing. Solas added a rune of his own beside Zaron's, hoping it would make the circle permeable to spirits when the connection was made in the physical world.

With that done Solas escorted Ellana to the next spot and performed the same reshaping, creating a standing post for the rune. Soon they'd completed the circle and the sentinels and Mahanon lingered near the Fade rift where it still twined on itself, energies swirling. They expected to return to the physical realm and draw out the next set of joining runes there to finally complete the circle.

Laying a hand over Ellana's forearm once she'd activated the last rune, Solas said, "We should create and charge several more circles, as large as we can make them, while we are still here. That will ensure we spare more spirits and open fewer rifts."

With a nod, Ellana twisted to look out on the flat stretch of marshy lands and swirling ether that stretched to the horizon. "You can reshape all of this."

Edging closer to her, Solas knelt slightly to speak into her ear as if whispering a secret. "Just say the word," he murmured.

Part of him had always relished being under her command. The role reversal, with the corresponding weight of command removed from his shoulders, was…oddly erotic. He'd spent most of his life either alone and unknown, or empowered and worshipped—or reviled. His position had brought him plenty of lovers who fawned on him for his attention because they found his power attractive more than his person. Ellana had loved him as nothing but an outcast apostate. Perhaps that was why she'd become so important to him, an extension of himself and his spirit to the point that the thought of being without her caused unbearable pain.

She rotated her head slowly to meet his stare, gazing up at him through half-lidded eyes. "Didn't I tell you I wanted to share power?" she asked. "I'm not inquisitor." Despite the slight terseness of her words Solas saw only the smoldering look and the flush on her cheeks.

"This is your plan," Solas reminded her, gently. "I am Solas here. Not Fen'Harel."

She frowned then and his heart seemed to fall into his guts. "You're always Solas. And Fen'Harel."

"And you will always be Inquisitor to many," Solas countered, withdrawing a step. He'd been holding her arm at the bicep, stroking the bare skin exposed at the inside of her elbow with one thumb, languishing in the silken smoothness. Aware of his own arousal at the prospect of showing her how much she needed him for this plan to work, Solas struggled to quash that pride.

He tucked his hands behind his back, squaring his shoulders, determined to warn her away from Mythal again. "But you should be wary. You are a mere tool to Mythal. She has already set her plan in motion by luring you to do this, regardless of what I thought of it. What she neglected to tell you was that without my help her plan would not work. She is playing the Game and she has used you as her primary means to control me."

Though her mouth worked into a frustrated frown, Solas saw she couldn't deny anything he'd said. She'd stared out at the marshes, at the seemingly endless expanse of Fade ether ocean, and she knew she had no way to alter it without him. She sighed and muttered under her breath, "Always a pawn. Always the Game."

"You are no game to me, vhenan," Solas murmured, almost whispering.

She snorted. "And halla can fly."

Before he could reply, instinctively reaching out to reassure her with touch, Ellana whipped to face the sentinels and her brother, calling to them. "We're not going back yet," she said. "We're going to make more circles. Bigger ones. We'll count out the steps to make sure they match with the waking world."

They moved to obey without confusion and Solas saw Abelas shoot him a quick look of something like cold triumph. Rage erupted inside Solas' core, flushing his skin red until the tips of his ears burned. He cooled it by conjuring cold in one hand and then touching his own neck, making him shiver as the fury dissipated.

Ellana, ever sensitive to magic even before feeling the full connection of the Fade inside the rune circles, glanced to him with a furrowed brow. "Solas?"

Choosing not to answer her, Solas closed his eyes and raised both hands, reaching out as far as he could in every direction with his magic. He heard and sensed Ellana react, gasping as she felt the change in the air, charging it like lightning. The snap came inside him as the Fade responded to his will and locked onto his magic. Flat, he commanded it. Empty. He imagined a dry meadow like the one clan Lavellan had been encamped on. Dry. A faint wave of dizziness suffused him, leaving him lightheaded as the Fade took his mana and the imagery. Air whipped around him and the light changed, becoming less the orange-brown of the raw fade and more the bright, clear sunshine of the wilds around Wycome.

When the connection severed with a pingback of prickling washing over his skin, Solas opened his eyes and let his hands fall to his sides. He and the others now stood on a flat expanse of golden grasses that wafted in the breeze and extended out as far as the eye could see. The sun warmed him from behind. Spirits had come out of the rocks and ether of the Fade and now floated in wispy shapes, perplexed or curious at the changed environment. Undoubtedly they'd soon read the expectations of the mortals who'd wandered into their ethereal plane and begin emulating their expectations by creating halla or fennec foxes or insects or aravels.

Ellana stood a few paces from him, her eyes round and stunned. Feeling the drain of mana from the massive reshaping, Solas had to make an effort to keep his head and shoulders up rather than sagging. Despite the fact that they currently stood in the raw Fade physically, Solas' power remained limited by the Veil as they were outside the rune circles and transforming the Fade so broadly had taken a great deal of mana.

"How long will it stay like this?" Ellana asked, barely breathing the question.

"Indefinitely," Solas answered. "Until I or another changes it. Sleepers will alter it over time with their influence. Nothing in the Fade is permanent."

"Except the sky and the Black City," she said, turning her head and jerking her chin upwards. Indeed, the sky remained unchanged, with swirling green clouds despite the warm light on their current spot, and rocks hung in the sky. And, of course, the Black City's spires remained visible and untouched by Solas' power. Unlike Ellana, Solas knew that was because it was heavily warded against reshaping by Dreamers—even those as powerful as himself.

Solas nodded. "Yes, except for that." As she returned her stare to him and cocked her head, considering him with an unreadable expression, Solas arched an eyebrow and asked, "Vhenan?"

Ellana motioned at the flowing grasses around them, grasping a few golden blades in her palms. "Could you have done this at Adamant?"

He dropped his gaze to the brown, dry earth at their feet as he shuffled his weight, abashed for a moment and hoping to hide it. Clearing his throat, he said, "I was not as recovered in those days."

She huffed. "That's not an answer, Solas."

Her admonishment made him grimace, like a boy caught by his parents misbehaving. He brushed off the mental image and forced himself to meet her gaze, clenching his jaw and tucking his hands behind his back to emulate the appearance of command even if he didn't quite feel it under the weight of her disappointment. "I could have shaped the Fade at Adamant, yes," he admitted. "But not to this extent. I was weaker. I did not hide any of my talents early on. Gradually I did have to…curtail myself lest I reveal too much."

"You could have saved Stroud," she guessed, frowning. Her hands curled into fists at her side. "Tell me I'm wrong."

Solas scoffed, her anger fueling his. "I am not all-powerful, Ellana. The Nightmare at Adamant would have killed me with ease had it been given the chance. Even had I shaped the Fade I could not have saved Stroud. I cannot simply will away the beings of the Fade."

Her eyes, narrowed and glinting dark with anger and suspicion, softened gradually. Slowly and with a sad sigh, she said, "I believe you."

"Ma serannas," he grumbled, unable to bite back his sarcasm. Of course, he didn't tell her that the Nightmare, knowing who he was, probably wouldn't have killed him but would instead have tried to cut a deal with him the same as it had Corypheus. Just as the Forgotten Ones, it's much stronger and more ancient brethren had done so long ago.

She winced, evading his angry stare before shaking her head, the line of her body hardening again. "No, I'm not going to be sorry for second guessing you," she muttered, more to herself than to him. Her eyes squeezed shut, as if with pain. "You lied to me about the orb. You spent years lying to me. I can't…" She broke off and covered her face with both hands, sucking in a trembling breath.

The sound of it cut into him as sharp as a knife. Solas closed the distance between them, laying a hand on her bicep. "I'm sorry, vhenan. I should have told you the truth long ago. Please—"

Shaking him off, Ellana backpedaled, stealing quick glimpses of him as she turned away. Her eyes were red-rimmed, but her body language was tight, upset. "I appreciate your help with this, Solas," she said, cold and businesslike. "You're right that we can't do this without you, just as your help was invaluable with Corypheus."

A peace offering, he thought. Her last comment had been acknowledging that regardless of how he'd handled it, Solas had been loyal to her in stopping Corypheus. He watched, feeling cold inside as she stalked off through the grasses, heading to instruct the sentinels and Mahanon on where she wanted the runes placed. She had the gait and carriage of the Inquisitor again, proud and authoritative despite her rounded belly.

Determined to prove useful, Solas made his way around this new, even larger circle, creating elevated podiums for the runes the sentinels painted with their blood and adding marks of his own using ink created from the ether of the Fade itself. He worked in tandem with both the sentinels and Ellana, wordless and silent. They mapped out the positions of each rune spot, counting strides to approximate each mark's position in the Fade with where its counterpart would eventually be drawn in reality.

After close to two hours they'd completed an additional eight circles before Ellana declared that as being more than enough to keep track of. They returned through the rift and this time Solas had little to do as he watched with his arms crossed over his chest as the sentinels and Ellana set to work marking the next set of runes in charcoal. They started with the first circle they'd created and then moved on, activating each mark one after another.

Watching Ellana, Solas saw the way fatigue began to tug on her shoulders, making her slouch and slowing her step. He found himself with a perpetual frown, eager for their work to be over so Ellana could eat and rest. As the runes joined, uniting the Fade and reality, however, he tensed with alertness, searching for any sign that the marks he'd added had allowed spirits to be carried over, as there had been several lingering in the area they'd cordoned off. It was in the second massive circle's completion that he saw he'd succeeded as a green wisp suddenly appeared in their midst.

"Demon!" Iron Bull shouted, grabbing his axe. He, Dorian, Sera, and Rainier had stayed deliberately outside the runes, but the massive warrior showed no sign of fear now as he started to charge forward. Solas, still shuddering from the abrupt expansion of his core to its full strength, readied himself to stop him, but Ellana acted before he could.

"Relax, Bull," Ellana called back to him, thrusting one hand up, palm out in a stop gesture. "It's not a demon, just a spirit."

"Well," Dorian commented from outside the circle. "That's new. You've never pulled one of them through before."

"Solas made some changes to the runes in the Fade," Ellana explained. "To allow spirits through."

"Of course he did," Dorian muttered, growling as he dropped his battle ready stance and tucked his staff in place on his back. Rainier likewise sheathed his sword with a slick metallic ringing. But Sera, standing at Rainier's side, was unarmed and silent. Gray circles lay under her eyes, reminders of what she'd inadvertently done the previous evening. Solas pushed the thought and the memory aside before it could distract him with emotion.

Iron Bull stood down with a grunt, though his single eye narrowed distrustfully as he watched the wisp darting about the circle. Yet the spirit stayed within the rune circle, trapped by the barrier they formed. Without more marks such as the ones Solas had placed in the Fade, the spirit would be confined to the areas restored with the Fade—as much as limiting the spirits bothered Solas he knew it served a notable purpose in deterring humans from this land Ellana and Mythal intended to create.

Iron Bull returned to his spot standing at Dorian's side, overseeing everything yet outside of it. Also outside of it were the two Dalish warriors, doubtless anxious about accidentally casting if they were inside the circle when it activated. Everyone had been cautious of the potential for accidentally casting magic since the previous night. Lyris had told Solas that Ellana had been the first to accidentally cast—with lightning no less.

The thought of it drew his eyes to her, roving appreciatively over her shapely legs and her waist still slim despite her pregnancy. He considered how he might teach her to cast and control her magic, to get to know it the same way she had with her own physical body. He imagined her holding veilfire or Fade stepping or twirling her staff as she sent chain lightning arcing over enemies…the heat of longing spread through him and he pushed his thoughts aside to prevent his body from reacting.

Still, now that they had expanded the restored area significantly, stretching it well beyond the ruins and their campground, Solas knew they'd need to take time to ensure the elves among them unaccustomed to magic knew enough that they could control it. As soon as the last circle was activated, Solas moved to intercept Ellana and suggested it to her.

She nodded, weariness dragging her features down. "I was thinking the same thing." She tilted her head up, letting the dappled sunshine peeking in through the canopy color her face. "Thank you," she said again after a moment in a soft voice. "This really would be impossible without your help."

"It was my pleasure, vhenan." Fingers twitching at his side, he resisted the urge to reach for her, cradle her cheek, aware that others were watching. The sentinels had dispersed with their work finished, returning to guard positions or the endless domestic work needed for camp, but Solas could still feel Mahanon, the Dalish, Lyris, and Ellana's Inquisition friends lingering, waiting for her most likely. The weight of their eyes on him set his muscles taut, as if expecting a fight at any moment. He wanted to withdraw, to remain chilly and aloof, yet he stayed fixated on Ellana, his mind and body distracted with yearning.

"You should eat and rest," Solas told her and gave in to his desire as he stepped closer and laid a hand over her cheek. "You mustn't tire yourself excessively. I will remain here to help. There will be time."

Sighing, she nuzzled into his touch and Solas' found his heart suddenly pounding in his throat. "I hope you're right," she murmured. Blinking at him, she clasped her right hand around his wrist and then, deliberately, stepped back from him. The flicker of something like fear passed over her features and Solas' stomach clenched, his chest tightening. He realized what she'd actually been saying was I hope you're telling me the truth.

Her distrust rankled him, making his shoulders hunch slightly, but he suppressed it, reminding himself she had reason to doubt him. He'd brought this on himself. Closing his eyes to try and hide his pain, Solas turned his head away from her and let his hand fall to his side.

"Will I destabilize the Anchor using it like this?" she asked, the fear tightening her voice impossible to miss.

Glancing back at her, Solas forced a smile onto his lips though he knew it wouldn't touch his eyes. "It is possible, but primarily the Anchor reacts to ancient magic and…my own magic." His shoulders slumped and he clenched his jaw, unable to keep himself from thinking that he was always putting her in danger. They might as well be diametrically opposed to each other, like fire and ice. "Did it pain you when I reshaped the Fade?"

"No," she answered with a shake of her head. Gazing at the hand in question, she flexed it and traced the line of the Anchor in her palm. "It's felt a lot better since Abelas discharged it the first time—and then the second time when you discharged it…after…" She made a face, her brow crinkling with confusion as her green eyes slid to where Sera still stood with the others, making small talk.

Pinching his lips together, he said, "I will teach you to discharge it yourself before it can overcome you. That will help keep it stable for now." Pausing a moment, he smiled—a real one this time. "If you'll allow me, I'd also like to volunteer to be your tutor in magic."

Chuckling, she shot him a knowing look. "I wondered when you'd ask. How could I say no? Though I expect you'll be bored because I know absolutely nothing and you'll have to go slow and start from the very beginning. I suspect Dorian and Mahanon would both—"

"You would not be my first student, vhenan," he reassured her, unable to keep the eager grin from his face. "Far from it, in fact." He hesitated a second, seeing the curiosity in her eyes and then decided to tell her more to satisfy it—and encourage her trust. "Before I became Fen'Harel I often served as tutor in small villages like the one where I grew up. And later, before my rebellion, I taught the children of the highest nobility in Falon'Din's lands and Mythal's."

"How did you have the time to do that once you rose to power?" she asked, appearing startled.

Solas smirked. "We were immortal, vhenan." At her lingering confusion he shrugged, flippant. "I also chose to avoid many of the other, longer diversions of Arlathan." He didn't explain what those had been—plays and symphonies of magic and sound that took years to complete, as well as parties and orgies that'd make even the naughtiest Orlesian or Ferelden ruler blush and stare dumbfounded. Skipping over such extravagant luxuries, he said, "It was important to me that I change the culture of Elvhenan in any way I could. A number of the children I taught in those years grew up to join my cause."

"Well then, hahren," she said chuckling. "When will our first lesson commence?"

Eyes skipping over her for a moment and settling on the round shape of her belly, Solas said, "After you have eaten and recovered enough to actually appreciate the lesson." He paused before meeting her eye with a smirk. "Da'len."

She laughed now and the sound sent a pleasurable, warm sensation washing through him. "Ma nuvenin, hahren."

The afternoon had given way into evening, with the sun rapidly dropping to the horizon, shining its golden rays through the trees. The rune circles had been expanded far enough that the edges were well out of sight around massive bulks of trees and rocky outcrops. Ellana tried to imagine how long it'd take them to cover the entirety of the Dales and found herself scowling into her bowl of rabbit stew. She could hear the occasional crackle of lightning echoing off the hills and trees, or the flash of fire as Mahanon and Dorian worked with Lerand and Samhel.

Ellana had tried to talk with Sera, but the elven archer had avoided her, leaving with Rainier, Cole, and Arina to scout in a widening search around their area. Sera had also refused magical tutoring from both Dorian and Mahanon. According to Dorian, Sera hadn't denied lessons with her usual profanity-laced jargon, but rather a simple and emphatic no, her brown eyes wide and haunted. So it made sense for her to leave on the scouting mission. They needed to know where they were exactly and what settlements were nearby.

With Solas' help they could expand almost exponentially, though Ellana couldn't deny it was still daunting and had left her head heavy and her limbs a tad weak. Much of her exhaustion had been hunger-based, however, and with Solas and Lyris both pestering her, Ellana had eaten and soon felt much of her energy return. A brief nap had helped as well, though she'd again had nightmares of herself dying.

Lost in her thoughts about Sera and the inevitable challenges of expanding their territory, which would eventually include conflict with the Orlesians as they reclaimed the Dales, she almost didn't hear Solas ask, "Are you feeling up to a lesson, vhenan?"

Raising her head and meeting his warm gaze, she smiled at him. "I could use the distraction."

"I thought as much," he said with a nod and rose to his feet from his position beside their fire. Lyris sat at his side, gradually donning her shiny armor as she prepared to join Iron Bull and some of the sentinels on patrols of the rune circles' perimeters. Standing over her, Solas extended his hand, offering to help her up.

Feeling heat spread over her cheeks, Ellana accepted the offer, grunting as she hefted herself upright. "Thank you," she said, sheepish as she tugged at her coat, trying to adjust it over her ever-growing belly. "I can't believe how big I've gotten and I'm still months away from being done." Chuckling, she snuck a glance at him and found something tender yet also raw with want. The blush over her face only intensified.

"You're still tiny," Lyris said with a short laugh. "Trust me, it'll get a lot worse."

"You are beautiful, vhenan," Solas told her solemnly, edging closer and grasping her hand. "You have always been beautiful and you will always be beautiful."

"Thank you," she said, staring at his blue eyes, pierced by them.

Lyris chuckled softly. "This is a side of you, Fen'Harel, that I never expected to see." At his sudden glare of disapproval she raised a palm in a placating motion. "It's not a criticism, hahren. Quite the opposite." Grunting as she got up as well, Lyris nodded to Ellana. "Good luck with your lessons. I expect Fen'Harel will make you into a capable arcane warrior, rift mage, or—"

Ellana laughed, interrupting her. "I'll be happy if I can just manage to hit something and not accidentally shock or burn anyone."

"If humans and Qunari can manage it, I'm sure you can," Lyris said with a snort. "Magic is the gift of the People and you are certainly one of us." She stalked away a few steps and then nodded back at them both in farewell.

Ellana followed Solas as he gathered a spare stave from Mahanon's tent, doing something with it briefly that made the wood glimmer white-green. At her baffled look he explained, "I am cleansing the residual energies from it that your brother left behind. These would disrupt your casting."

"Ah," Ellana said, smiling though she hadn't a clue what exactly that meant.

Handing her the stave along with a strap to secure it to her, Solas said, "Lyris told me that your magic manifested first as lightning. It would seem you favor the art of storm magic." He flashed an amused, lopsided smile. "I am not surprised."

She arched a brow. "Are you implying something about my temperament?"

"Why would I do such a thing?" Solas asked with mock-innocence. "You wound me, vhenan."

"Right." Chuckling as she shook her head, Ellana pushed the stave into the strap at her back, struggling with it a moment to find the ideal position. Too far forward and she became top heavy, too low and it dragged on the ground. Solas moved in to help her and Ellana was sure his hands lingered longer than they needed to on the back of her neck and her hips as he adjusted it in the strap.

With that complete Ellana followed Solas, noting again that her teacher had foregone a staff himself. In fact she hadn't seen him carry one for weeks. She found herself hunching forward, trying to keep the staff from catching on the ground as they descended a small hill, still within the rune circles. On the other side of the hill Mahanon, Dorian, Lerand, and Samhel were practicing, all four men holding their staffs and adopting the mage's battle ready stance with legs spread wide. The air held the tingling charge of magic.

"And just where do you think you're taking her?" Dorian asked Solas, glaring as they walked past, feet crunching on the underbrush.

"A magic lesson," Ellana answered before Solas could. She noticed he hadn't slowed his pace though he did turn to pin Dorian with an answering glare of his own.

Dorian snorted. "We've been at this for hours. I don't see why you couldn't have—"

"Let them go," Mahanon interrupted Dorian with a withering look. "They are family. Family teach one another."

Scoffing, Dorian said, "You're her family. And far more trustworthy."

Now Solas did pause, whipping around and speaking partially in elven to Ellana's brother. "Mahanon, it sounds as though the Tevinter has grown fond of you. Dareth, lethallin. Dorian isalal'ishanen." Careful, cousin. Dorian sexually desires men.

"Solas," Ellana scolded, hissing his name. "Really…"

Mahanon snorted as Lerand and Samhel sniggered.

"Maker's breath," Dorian grumbled. "Useless, the lot of you." He whacked Lerand on the back of the head, making the young elf flinch away and laugh. "Focus before you set something on fire by accident. But, if you do, make sure you aim for Solas."

Exchanging a quick smile with Mahanon, Ellana had to hurry as Solas had already begun walking again, his long-legged stride eating up the ground with ease. He reached the end of their last rune circle, out of sight of where Mahanon and Dorian were running their lessons, and curled around a large tree, careful not to step over the boundary.

Ellana had noticed that of all the elves entering and leaving the circles, Solas had the most visible reaction to leaving the Fade. It always made him stagger, his expression wrinkling as though pained. Even after years listening to him talk about the Fade and its wonders, Ellana hadn't quite understood his love for it. Yet, after just a day in and out of it herself, she found it hard not to miss it when she was outside the circles. Even when she'd been hungry and exhausted from activating so many runes, the return of the Fade had rejuvenated her, returning much of her lost stamina.

She waited as Solas contemplated the tree and its thick, snakelike roots for a few moments and then, casually, he stretched out a palm and the greenish ether of the Fade seemed to swim up at his wordless command. She stared, wide eyed and stunned, as Solas created a post of brownish stone that rose up to about chest height. It was a target for her to aim at, just shorter and thinner than a man, which would require her to be more precise here than on the battlefield.

When he looked at her, Ellana couldn't wipe away her surprise fast enough. She'd expected him to be smug, but instead something like chagrin passed over his face. "Ir abelas, vhenan," he told her. "I forget that all of this is still new to you."

Humming in the back of her throat, she decided to indulge her curiosity. "How much can you change?"

Solas clucked his tongue at her as if scolding, but his smile was warm. "We are not here to talk about me." Striding toward her, Solas took up a spot at her side and said, "Turn your senses inward. You will feel something new to you, a sort of energy. This is your mana core. Its size dictates your strengths and limitations as a mage. It will stir whenever you will it. You choose the form your magic will take." He paused, watching her. "Have you found it?"

Ellana had already tentatively found that swirling mass of energy inside her. Concentrating on it made it seem to surge forward. She let go quickly, her breath coming faster with a mixture of excitement and trepidation. "Yes."

Nodding, Solas motioned to the post. "Grasp energy from your core and let it come out as it wills at first. Attack. "

Narrowing her eyes with concentration, Ellana felt the magic bubble, pressing on her insides. The baby kicked and squirmed, distracting her a moment. Blinking, she refocused when the baby had stilled and again willed something to happen. Long seconds passed with Solas' gaze on her, patient and silent. She felt sweat beading on her brow and frowned. "Nothing's happening."

His velvet voice chuckled and he stepped closer, his hands taking her right arm and lifting it, palm out, to aim at the post. "Magic requires will and direction. The physical motions of casting are integral to it." He spoke the words close to her ear, his breath warm and moist.

Swallowing as her mouth suddenly seemed flooded with saliva, Ellana waited until he released her arm and then, concentrating again, repeated the motion. With a jerk of her right arm and hand, she willed herself to strike the post and—

Light flickered, the air crackled. Purple-white lightning streaked out from her and into the post and the tree, scorching it and flashing as it faded. The shock and blowback from it made Ellana gasp, stumbling.

Solas' arms caught her, kept her upright. Breathing hard, she groaned with frustration. "That startled me."

"Yes," Solas said with another throaty chuckle. "I could see that. It will take some time to adjust to, certainly, but you are already doing well, vhenan."

She shot him a disbelieving look. "You cannot be serious. I barely hit the post and I just tried to fall flat on my rump."

As if her words had called his attention to it, Ellana felt his hand slide appreciatively over the aforementioned body part. She swatted his hand away, shaking her head and smirking at his lascivious expression. "Tell me, hahren," she murmured, feigning annoyance. "How am I supposed to concentrate with your hands on me?"

"I was merely checking to make sure you were uninjured, vhenan," he said, the glint of mischief in his blue eyes unmistakable. Stepping just out of reach of her, he motioned at the post. "Attack again, if you would."

Smirking, Ellana returned her focus to the post. This time when she flung lightning at it she stood her ground, not flinching as much. Yet the recoil of the magic still knocked her backward.

Solas again steadied her with one hand between her shoulder blades. "Your stance must be wide," he instructed as the hand not on her back took a gentle hold of her knee, coaxing it closer to him. She shifted her body as he indicated, bending her right knee and leading with it.

"This will prevent you from falling backward," he explained, but did not withdraw from her yet. She felt the fingers of his hand on the inside of her knee flex once and then he let go and stepped clear. "Again."

Ellana repeated it with more success, not flinching and staying in place with the recoil this time. Looking at Solas out of the corner of her eye, she saw him nod with approval. "Very good. Once more for good measure."

She did as he commanded, calling the lightning with minimal effort now. Now Solas said, "Let us try another school. You seem to find storm easily. Inevitably there will be one school that proves more difficult." He cleared his throat a moment before going on, "Try to will the magic into ice, spirit, or fire."

Chewing her lip, Ellana reached again for her core, feeling it respond with vigor at her touch now. She imagined heat and flames. Fire. Thrusting her hand up, she took aim. Nothing happened for a heartbeat before flames flashed, roaring briefly as they licked up the post and caught around the base of the post as well as the tree bark. Crackling, it continued to smolder and burn long after Ellana had dropped her hand and stared with wide eyes.

Solas put it out with a wave of his hand, smothering it with moisture that seemed to spring literally from thin air. "Well done, vhenan," he said, purring the words. "Well done, indeed."

When she turned to smile and thank him for his praise she stopped, her heart suddenly pounding and her body flushing with heat at the desire she saw in his expression. He'd been admiring her, pupils dilated, but when he noticed her staring, Solas rolled his shoulders, shifting his stance before saying, "Now, try another school."

Returning her stare to the post, Ellana again concentrated on shaping the magic into something new. But before she could try to cast it she heard Solas' feet crunch on the leaf litter as he drew closer. His warm fingers held her right forearm, gentle but firm, as his lips brushed her ear to whisper, "Try spirit, vhenan."

She shivered, swallowing. "Spirit," she repeated, willing herself to concentrate. Her mana core seemed abruptly sluggish.

Solas didn't step back from her as she'd expected. Instead he inhaled deeply, dragging his lips and nose over her ear and then down to nuzzle her throat. A chill passed through her and any hope of focusing on casting a base attack in the new school vanished. Heat unfurled in her belly, the raw ache of want suddenly aflame just as the post and the tree had been moments ago.

His hand on her forearm tracked upward and then across her shoulders, tracing along the neckline of her coat before slipping beneath the fabric to tease her neck and then jaw line. Then, just as her breath hitched in her throat, Solas' hand dropped abruptly low, to her knee, under her coat. His fingernails clinked on her chainmail, then gradually moved upward toward where they both knew she had a gap in the mail near her hips under the armored surcoat.

"Spirit, vhenan," he repeated, huskily. His other hand combed through her hair while the one on her thigh crawled steadily higher, surely aiming for that gap. She found it both hard to breathe for fear he would stop touching her and simultaneously impossible not to suck hungry breaths into her lungs. Every inhalation brought the woody scent of him, masculine and enticing.

As his fingers pushed under the armored surcoat and found the gap, brushing bare skin at her thigh, she moaned. Her eyes drifted shut and she leaned against him.

Nipping at her ear, he asked, "Am I distracting you, vhenan?"

"Yes," she said, throaty and low.

He chuckled, his hot breath wafting on her sensitive skin, fingers on her thigh still teasing, setting the hot ache inside her building. "Forgive me," he whispered. "I've wanted you all day. We will have to finish the lesson at another time. I am in no condition to continue it."

She turned her head, touching her forehead to his. "Can't keep your hands off me?"

"No," he admitted in a breathy voice. "But if you have no desire to—"

She locked her lips with his, hungry and needy, cutting him off.

Next Chapter:

"No one's being attacked?" Iron Bull asked, surveying the glade and apparently coming to an answer for himself as his lips curled in a lascivious smirk. "Ah, I get it. Word of advice? Next time try to keep it down a bit." He jerked his thumb at Abelas. "Abs and I were sure someone was being attacked with all the screaming."

Abelas shot Iron Bull a snarl. "My name is Abelas."

Iron Bull shrugged. "Close enough."