A/N: **This chapter is NSFW from the outset**
If sex scenes aren't your thing scroll down until you see Ellana shout "Bull!" or something along those lines. There's important discussion post sex scene, which is why I'd say don't scroll to the first divider line/scene change. As you'll see in the next chapter preview, this is the last chapter before we have a new direction where basically the elven rebellion is going to expand exponentially.
As always, a big THANK YOU to everyone who's followed and especially to those who take the time to review (looking at you KiraChan, haha!) Thanks for sticking with me!
Twenty-Eight
Magister Prissy Pants
His tongue swept into her mouth as he responded to her kiss, deepening it and pressing closer to her. Ellana turned into his hold, her hands going to his chest as her hips angled to be as flush with his as she could manage with their differing heights and her belly working against her. His hand between them, with the fingers teasing the skin of her thigh exposed by the gap in her chainmail there, inched higher, making her moan.
As the sloppy kiss continued, their tongues sparring, Ellana found the clasp holding the wolf fur around his shoulder and released it. Solas hummed in the back of his throat, breaking the kiss and staring at her through eyes dark and half-lidded with longing. "It's a shame I cannot conjure a bed."
Grinning, she pushed him playfully, grabbing the wolf pelt from his shoulders. "How disappointing," she said, her voice low and husky. "What kind of Evanuris can't summon an Orlesian four-post bed with down-feather pillows and satin sheets?" Clucking her tongue in mock-reprimand. "Fortunately for you I'm a Dalish savage."
Laughing, Solas reached for her again, his hands moving to the buttons keeping her coat closed as his lips found hers again, his breath rapid and hot against her skin. As he helped her out of her coat, Solas pulled away enough to speak, both amusement and desire in his voice. "Yes, but what kind of good Dalish woman courts the Dread Wolf?"
She smirked and nibbled at his lip, eliciting a noise of appreciation from deep in his throat. "Didn't I just say I was a savage?"
With another laugh, Solas kissed her again, tasting her as his hands worked over her with the speed and efficiency of experience, tugging away her scarf and unlatching her belts and surcoat. Ellana, less familiar with the armor he wore as Fen'Harel, fumbled despite the fact he only wore the undercoat currently.
Sensing her difficulty, Solas pulled away, breathing quickly. "Trouble, vhenan?" he asked, teasing.
"I miss your hobo look," she rejoined, grinning.
He chuckled, shaking his head. "You've been spending entirely too much time with Dorian."
"It was a lot easier to get into." She traced the little bit of bare skin she could reach around his collar, dragging her fingernails over him and was rewarded by the hitch in Solas' breath.
His eyes drifted shut with enjoyment before he caught her hand and brought it to his lips, brushing against her knuckles. "Will you grant me a taste?"
She felt abruptly weak at the knees, her mouth full of saliva and her stomach flip-flopping. "Do you even have to ask?"
With her hand still in his, Solas led her toward the post and motioned with his other arm, grabbing absently at the air. The stone post widened and a flat section rose up to form a seat. Ellana let him guide her to it and inhaled with surprise as her hands touched the stone, finding it warm. Before she could ask if that was intentional or just a side-effect of any reshaping magic, Solas had knelt before her and cupped her face with both hands, claiming her lips with his own.
With her belts and surcoat removed he had little trouble slipping one hand beneath her chain mail, teasing her undergarment aside to caress the side of one breast. His touch was deliberately gentle, a graze of his fingernails that set her skin erupting in gooseflesh. She sighed into his mouth, heart pounding and desire coiling tighter. As his fingers circled, drawing closer to her hardening nipple, she arched her back pressing closer to him and breathing raggedly.
He broke the kiss, trailing his lips over her jaw line and down to nuzzle her throat while his other hand dropped low to open the chainmail around her legs and navel. Clinging to him, Ellana tried to free his own clothing again, struggling with clasps and belts until she could slip her hands under his overcoat and the tunic beneath to find bare skin. The hard, lean muscles flexed with each breath he took and she felt him shiver under her touch.
His silken voice at her throat let out a soft moan. Emboldened, Ellana dropped her hands below his waist, but the armor he wore here was too well secured and form-fitting for her to pry off. Chuckling, he withdrew slightly and, with a smirk, removed his hand from her chainmail to guide her to the seams and latches on his own armor.
Grinning sheepishly, she nuzzled his ear as she managed to remove the first bit of armor from around his waist. "So difficult," she murmured.
He chuckled. "It is certainly not meant for ease of access."
Humming with amused agreement, she nibbled his ear as her fingers finally found the soft, thin leggings he wore beneath the armor. She closed a fist over his arousal, feeling its scalding heat and hardness. He moaned at her grip. "Vhenan…"
"Yes, emma lath?" she asked, breathing into his ear.
Gently but firm, Solas pulled back, his blue eyes glinting and dark with arousal and mischief. He gripped her hands by the wrist with his own, dragging them away from his erection with the flash of a lopsided smile. Pinning her hands over her head against the tree trunk behind her, he kissed her, nipping at her lower lip. Then, releasing her hands, he dropped low, turning his attention to her hips and thighs.
His hot lips and tongue blazed a trail up the inside of her thigh, the contrast with the chilly air making her shiver. She leaned back, her head lolling as he drew his way to her sex and then away again to switch to the other thigh. His hand teased along the same trail his lips had just traveled, sending more shivers through her.
Writhing as he again neared her sex, she gripped the tree behind her, breathing deep and fast. Bits of bark fell on her, scorched from the electricity and fire she'd cast earlier. When he teased her once more, nipping along her thigh and then toward her knee instead, she hissed his name with mounting, needy frustration as the ache of want intensified.
Solas chuckled against her thigh, his breath hot as it puffed against her. Then, decisively, he made his move, his mouth scorching as he lowered it to her. His tongue and lips caressed her, slow and teasing at first, but it was more than enough to send her pleasure arcing like the lightning she'd cast earlier, shooting out to every inch of her.
She gasped and squirmed, pleasure coursing through her with every deliberate stroke of his tongue. Her thighs trembled, toes curling in the dirt and grass underfoot. All conscious thought scattered as he continued the rhythmic swirl, alternating with the brush of his soft lips. Heat curled higher insider her, intensifying until she was gnashing her teeth, barely able to withstand it.
When he pressed harder with his tongue she could no longer hold back the moans, mouth open and gasping breathily. Then he slid a finger inside her, curling and rubbing in a spot that sent the hot, streaking bliss into a sudden crescendo. She cried out, hips rocking to the motion of his finger within her and his tongue lapping at her. Waves crashed over her, rocking her body wide.
Solas pulled away from her, rising from his low crouch and into a kneeling position. Shuddering as the pleasure gradually cycled down, Ellana smiled at him, keeping her legs spread wide as she grabbed for his neckline and dragged him closer while the other hand fumbled at his waist to guide him inside her. He gasped as he slid home and she sighed with satisfaction at the fullness of him.
Wrapping her legs around him as he began to thrust, she arched her back, feeling the slick heat building again. Uncaring that she'd taste herself, she kissed him, hungry and greedy as he groaned against her lips. "Vhenan…"
"Emma lath," she answered him, grinning as she saw the wrenched expression of his face as his own pleasure built rapidly.
Solas wrapped one arm around her hips, partly supporting her while the other shot out to clutch at the tree behind her to hold himself in position. His jaw clenched, teeth gritted as his breathing grew ragged and faster, almost a pant. Ellana nuzzled his neck, breathing in the scent of his sweat and nipping at his skin as she moaned, feeling her own body nearing the precipice once more.
As his hips pumped faster, thrusting his full length in and out of her, Ellana dangled at the edge, thoughts scattering again. Then Solas gasped and let out a deep, throaty grunt. He twitched inside of her, rapid pulses as he climaxed and gave a small, strangled cry of pleasure. Hearing it pushed her over and she cried out, louder this time, and clutched at his shoulders with her arms while her legs curled tighter around his hips, grinding against him as the waves of bliss rocked through her again.
Through the haze of post-sex lassitude, Ellana didn't hear the quick, heavy footfalls rushing toward them—but Solas did. Suddenly he scrambled back from her, tucking himself back inside his leggings, eyes wide and lips swollen and cheeks flushed red from lovemaking. Ellana blinked, baffled momentarily until she heard a familiar deep voice shouting in Qunlat. From the ground nearby Solas snatched the wolf pelt he typically wore over his shoulder and pushed it at her. Ellana had just covered herself with it when Iron Bull exploded into view, his axe raised high and ready to strike.
"Bull," Ellana shouted at him, voice still husky. Stop!"
The massive horned warrior stopped just short of the rune circle, his single blue eye wide and lips parted as he breathed fast from his charge. "Boss?"
More footsteps echoed off the trees and a second later Abelas appeared, his armor glinting in the dappled light. He stopped several meters shy of Iron Bull, taking in the scene with a quick onceover and sneering.
"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."
Solas stood halfway obscuring Ellana's view of the other two men, a protective stance to shelter her. The tension in his body language was the only hint at his discomfort with the situation as he nodded at the interlopers. "Your vigilance is appreciated, but unneeded. No one is under attack. Please." He made a dismissive motion, as if waving them away. "Leave."
Iron Bull grunted, returning his axe to its spot on his back. "Yeah, yeah. Should've guessed you'd be cranky even after getting laid." He started walking back the way he'd come, passing Abelas as he went.
The sentinel waited a moment, glowering at Solas, then he turned his head slightly and addressed Ellana instead. "Mythal wished me to thank you for your aid today, Ellana. There is, of course, still much to do, but she will see it through and meet with you when she can." He paused, glancing with narrowed eyes at Solas. "When it is safe."
Ellana didn't need to see Solas' face to know he bristled, enraged. His hands clenched into fists at his side and his shoulders bunched up as his body reacted to it. "Leave, Abelas," he ordered.
The sentinel dipped his head in an exaggerated nod, a hard smile on his lips. "As you say, Fen'Harel." Pivoting on his heel, the other elf strode off, footfalls crunching over the underbrush that hadn't survived the onset of frosts with winter.
As soon as the sound had faded, Ellana cleared her throat. "He should have relayed thanks to you as well. You did as much as I did today. You made me feel that this was truly possible."
Solas glanced at her over his shoulder, his blue eyes steely and hard until they softened watching her for a heartbeat. "Vhenan," he said softly, "I hope that you are aware you cannot trust Mythal."
"She's done nothing but help me," Ellana said, stiffening. "And her plan has allowed us to restore the Fade without killing the other races." Staying silent for a moment, she spoke more gently as she added, "Without killing you."
Solas shook his head, not answering her as he moved about the clearing, collecting discarded parts of armor, her coat, and the stave they hadn't used in their abandoned magic lesson. Ellana closed the links in her chainmail and adjusted her underthings from where Solas' ministrations had pushed them aside. Taking her surcoat and coat from him, she donned all of her clothing and passed him the wolf pelt. As he finished dressing she collected all of their belts and other straps or pouches. Her cheeks burned as she imagined the scene Abelas and Iron Bull had seen: her covered in the wolf pelt, Solas missing his lower body armor, and a variety of outer clothing scattered around the clearing. They might as well have held up enormous signs proclaiming they'd just been having sex.
Interrupting her thoughts, Solas said, "Ellana, though I may have misled you over the years we've known one another, I beg you not to place your trust in Mythal. Her goals are unclear and I suspect she will use you against me. Worse, she may use our child against us both."
Ellana froze, caught midway in the process of latching one of her belts over her surcoat. As if sensing they spoke of it, the baby kicked against her stomach. The first slow burn of indigestion crept into her throat. Raising her head to look at him, Ellana asked, "Why would you think that?"
Solas frowned and gave a little huff. "Ir abelas, vhenan. You do not know Mythal as I do. Like all of the Evanuris, she was adept at playing the Game. Her favorite way to win is through manipulation. She has already used you to force my hand here." Using his hands to emphasize his words, Solas extended one arm as he said, "With one hand she offers a gift with no obvious downside." With his other hand Solas made a fist suddenly, so tight that the knuckles flushed white. "With her other she exacts an unforeseen price."
Scowling, Ellana shook her head. "Not everything has to be a trick, Solas."
"But this is," Solas growled. "She has deceived me thusly many times in Elvhenan and now she has done the same using the Dalish Keepers. That was the gift, vhenan. We took it because we could see no reason not to do so, yet the price Mythal demands is yet ongoing."
"It's a stretch to think she will try to take our child," Ellana said, though she winced at how thin and desperate her voice sounded. To her shame she couldn't suppress the sudden constriction in her chest, the slight tremor of fear.
Solas' expression was tense, his features pinched. "There is a reason she was known as the Mother—and many of the children she raised and claimed were not of her blood. Most of them, in fact."
"Well," Ellana said, baring her teeth in a grimace as she laid a hand over her belly. "She isn't going to get our child."
"You must be vigilant," Solas intoned. "Or that is exactly what will come to pass. The sentinels are little better than slaves to her will. None of them will hesitate to take you from me or snatch our child away."
Ellana hesitated, frowning. "Morrigan told me the vallaslin the sentinels wear cannot compel them, it merely lets her communicate with them."
Solas snorted. "Did you forget that Morrigan herself is a thrall to Mythal?" He shook his head, a look of disgust crossing his features. "Nothing the witch says can be trusted."
Shoulders slumping, Ellana scrubbed at her face and groaned. How could she trust what Solas told her? Was he just feeding her something to put a wedge between herself and Morrigan, or Mythal, or the sentinels? All of them? Yet, like most of what he said, this rang with the note of truth.
"I'll be cautious," she murmured with a sigh, evading his stare, feeling it prickle her skin. "But Mythal and Morrigan haven't betrayed me the way Fen'Harel has…"
He flinched at her words, a mixture of anger and anguish furrowing his brow. He opened his mouth to speak and then snapped it shut again. Finally he nodded to her. "Ir abelas, vhenan. I have wronged you, but while I live I will always fight to protect you and our child."
That she could believe. She let the sting of old wounds burning inside her chest diminish into a simmer, quiet for now, and found she could manage a smile. Striding to him over the crunching leaf litter, she laid her hands over his chest and stared up into his somber face. "I will always trust you in that, Solas. But I need you to trust me as your partner in leadership, too. Let me get to know Fen'Harel."
Solas smiled, closed-lipped, but his blue eyes were warm with affection. He leaned his forehead down to touch with hers. "Ma nuvenin," he murmured.
The next morning as Ellana emerged from her tent, eyes still bleary with sleep and clumsy fingers struggling to clasp her surcoat into place, Dorian called to her from outside the rune circle. He stood at the very edge of the boundary, his staff strapped to his back and his arms crossed tight over himself as he shivered. She made her way over to him.
"Good morning," she said, halting just inside the boundary, smiling.
Dorian snorted, teeth chattering. "Well, it's certainly morning," he grumbled. "I'm not sure how good it is."
As with the previous morning Ellana saw heavy frost outside the rune circles while the inside was fairly comfortable, enough that she left her coat inside the tent and wasn't shivering. At first she'd assumed the Fade caused the unseasonable warmth inside the circles, but that hypothesis had been proven wrong when she left for her magic lesson and felt the temperature dip sharply the further she got from camp. When she'd consulted Solas as they lay together in their tent before dropping off to sleep, he'd chuckled and admitted it was his influence. He apparently willed the air to be warmer and the Fade, pliant and obedient, acquiesced.
The casual power of it still left her shivering with awe.
But outside the circle Dorian was shivering from the cold and behind him Iron Bull was breaking down their tent. "Are you leaving?" Ellana asked, arching an eyebrow.
"I'm afraid so, old girl," Dorian said, rubbing his hands together to try and warm them. "I can guess how all this will play out and I've never been fond of tragedies. I had hoped to intercede before it gets to that point. For your sake, of course, not his."
Stamping his feet with the cold, Dorian gave a body-wide shudder before going on. "I do hope that offer of negotiation is still open? You remember, the one where you make me look delusional in front of our mutual friend, most holy Cassandra? Then maybe we find a peaceful solution to this mess, yes?"
Nodding, Ellana said, "I remember, and yes. I would prefer a peaceful solution. The Dales are rightfully ours. Mythal intends to take them regardless of what Cassandra or Orlais think."
"I would say you've gone mad, but I've been speaking with the sentinels whenever I get the chance. The little one, the rogue, Arista?"
"Arina," Ellana corrected with a gentle smile.
"Yes, that one." Dorian shuffled his feet again, shivering. "She tells me that Fen'Harel has an army." He sneered. "I wish I didn't believe her, but I do. That bald bastard is dangerous." Sighing, the Tevinter looked away from her to where Rainier and Sera had emerged from the tent they shared and begun breaking it down as well. "Oh Ellana," he mumbled. "Why couldn't you have made the sensible choice and bedded one of those two, hmm? I'd bet that beard is softer than it looks and Sera's glib tongue I'm sure is—"
"What you on about?" Sera asked him, teeth chattering.
"Nothing, nothing," he replied, grinning as Ellana snapped her jaw shut and tried to dispel the heat creeping over her cheeks.
"Really, Dorian," she said, chuckling.
Leaving Rainier to finish breaking down their tent, Sera stepped toward the rune circle, shooting anxious gazes at Ellana. She alternatively crossed her arms and uncrossed them, shuddering with the cold.
"Lana," she said, using the informal name with a strained, hoarse voice that quaked likely as much with emotion as from the chilly morning. "Bout the other night." She wrung her hands in front of her. "I'm so, so sorry. I didn't—I don't know what happened. I mean, I do know." Her lip curled, flashing her teeth. "Was the blighted Fade-thing. What you're standing in. I ran through it, yeah? Didn't know. And then…" She squeezed her eyes shut and growled through gnashed teeth. "Andraste's tits, I'm such an arse! Stupid twat. It all went bits up, face down and—"
Cole suddenly appeared and spoke from Sera's right. "Warm crawling all over me, like spiders. Prickling and needling everywhere. Can't think, can't focus, can't stop. Muscles flex and twitch. Fingers slip from the string. The arrow flies, but without direction. Straight into her." His breathy words made the archer yelp and scramble away, straight into Dorian.
"Shut it, thing!" Sera railed against the spirit, but tears glimmered in her eyes
Ellana stared at Cole and then Sera, her throat suddenly tight. She tried to swallow it. Her actual memories of being shot were vague, mostly formed from the ongoing nightmares she'd caught from glimpsing the others' dreams and memories through the Fade. Words refused to form, so she stared at the frosty grass outside the rune circle.
"I almost killed her," Cole murmured, his voice intense and his eyes glazed. "I almost killed the Herald of Andraste. She's not supposed to be fragile. Blood, red and wet, spilling all over. Don't die! You can't die! I swear to the Maker I'll never fire another arrow ever again."
"I think that's enough, Cole," Dorian grumbled, still holding a trembling Sera by the shoulders.
"Get out of here," Sera shouted at the spirit.
"I'm not helping?" Cole asked, eyebrows raised with surprise.
"Not helping," Sera raged back at him, hands clenching into fists.
"I'm sorry," Cole said, a confused, troubled look on his face. "Should I go?"
"Yes," Sera growled, glaring at him before anyone else could. The spirit winked out of view, though Ellana suspected he'd likely not gone far.
"Sera," Ellana called to her, finally finding her voice. When the young archer looked to her, tears now rolling down her cheeks, Ellana said, "It's all right. You were just trying to help that night. You didn't know where the rune circles were. It was an accident and I'd never hold it against you."
She sniffled, glancing at Ellana and then quickly away again as she scraped one shoe at the frosted grass blades under foot. "Meant it, y'know. Bout never firing another arrow if you…" She broke off, choking and cursing under her breath as she swiped at the tears on her cheeks. "Blast it."
"It's okay," Ellana said and then, steeling herself for both the cold and the loss of her new magical core, she stepped outside the boundary. As the caress of the Fade left her she winced, shaking her head a moment before she moved to embrace the archer. Sera hugged her back and let out a little whimpered cry. Ellana patted her back. "See? I'm all right. I'm whole. It barely hurts anymore."
As they parted, Sera flashed a weak smile. "Never been so happy seeing droopy ears or his weirdy magic before," she muttered. Then, sobering, she gently tapped Ellana's belly. "What about the wittle one? Mini droopy ears."
Ellana laughed, though she hunched over as she started shivering, the cold settling into her skin. "He's doing fine."
"He, yeah?" Sera asked and then giggled. "What, you sure?"
Ellana shrugged. "Just a feeling. My brother has a daughter, so it just seems right I'll have a boy."
Dorian heaved a long sigh. "It would appear I'm going to owe a certain dwarf a few royals come springtime then."
"Nah," Sera insisted with a small grin. "Tossing up cookies always means girl."
"What's this now?" Rainier asked, coming closer. Unlike everyone else he seemed comfortable with the chill in his heavy, bulky armor and with his thick black beard. "The babe's a boy?" He laughed. "I knew it."
"The coin I flipped said boy, too," Iron Bull supplied with a smirk as he too came to stand near Ellana, taking a spot beside Dorian. "Morning, Boss." Like Dorian and Sera, the currently shirtless warrior appeared hunched with the cold, arms clasped over his chest to preserve his warmth.
"Morning, Bull," she said with a friendly nod. "Dorian tells me you're leaving today."
"Technically Cassandra hired me," Iron Bull explained but gestured to Dorian. "But in reality it's a nice excuse to play bodyguard for Magister prissy pants here."
Dorian huffed, indignant. "Excuse me? As if I needed you clomping around here like a beast of burden when I—"
"Mm," Iron Bull hummed with a wink. "That sounds like a nicer job description, don't you think, Boss?"
As Dorian blushed and stammered, Ellana laughed and shook her head. "I missed you all." Shivering, she shuffled from foot to foot, suddenly aware of the intense urge to pee but pushing it aside. "I suppose I'm about to miss you all again." Turning to look over her shoulder at the camp behind her, she sighed. Solas watched her from the campfire several meters away, observant and tense. She couldn't blame him considering she'd nearly died just two days ago, but did he really expect their friends to cart her off or hurt her?
No, a bitter voice whispered inside her. He's watching as both Solas and Fen'Harel, worrying as much for his security as for your wellbeing.
Sobering, she faced the four in front of her and said, "I will always be open to negotiation with Divine Victoria, but my demands are steep. We must have an elven homeland and the Dales are rightfully ours."
"I agree with you, darling," Dorian said with a meaningful nod. "What the Chantry did when they took the Dales was atrocious. But I highly doubt Cassandra will be able to give you what you want."
"And Solas means to take it?" Rainier asked gruffly.
After pausing a moment to consider the niceties of exactly who planned to take the Dales—Mythal, Morrigan, Fen'Harel, or Ellana herself—she decided it wasn't worth elaborating and merely nodded. "Yes."
"And you think he can?" Iron Bull asked, arching the eyebrow over his single good eye.
This time the cold morning air around them tightened with tension. This was the question that truly mattered to them. If Ellana, whose judgment as former Inquisitor they truly trusted, believed Solas capable of taking what he wanted, then they'd consider him a serious threat. Swallowing the lump in her throat and forcing herself to keep breathing, Ellana said, "Easily."
Sera scoffed. "Are you daft? Droopy ears?"
She closed her eyes, clenching her jaw to keep from chattering with the cold. "There's a reason the ancient elves mistook Evanuris for gods." She heaved a sigh and again stared at the grass. "My understanding is that with the Fade restored Solas could destroy whole towns." She paused a heartbeat to let that sink in before adding, "Singlehandedly."
"Damn," Iron Bull grunted. "I hope you're wrong, Boss."
"I hope you're right," Rainier interjected, motioning at Ellana with a concerned look. "You realize if he can't do what you claim the Chantry, Orlais, the Templars, everyone will want you both dead."
"They already do," Dorian added with a frown. "And you forgot to add the Imperium to that list of yours, Thom."
"No he didn't," Iron Bull quipped with a smirk. "It goes without saying because the Vints always want everyone else dead."
Dorian shot him a glare. "Yes, as do the Qunari."
"Not my problem," Iron Bull said with a grin and a thump on his chest. "Tal Vashoth, remember?"
With a longsuffering sigh, Dorian faced Ellana again. "We'll return to Val Royeaux with your message, old girl. I can't say Divine Victoria will be pleased with us for it, but we'll certainly give it a try."
"Cass'll blow off that dumb hat of hers for sure," Sera added with a giggle.
After hugging all four of them goodbye and constantly fighting the lump of emotion in her throat, Ellana watched them walk away through the forest, carefully avoiding the Fade-restored circles. Despite the cold, she stayed in that spot, just outside where their little camp had been, until they were out of sight. As soon as they were gone she felt her eyes sting with tears and she sucked in a deep breath to fight them off as doubt weighed her down.
Was she doing the right thing? Could any of this really succeed?
The rustle of feet off to her left startled her out of her thoughts. When she looked to the source she found Solas standing at the edge of the rune circle, wearing a concerned expression. "Vhenan?"
The tenderness in his blue eyes warmed her from within, easing the pressure of the doubt inside. She smiled at him and crossed the runes, shivering with pleasure as the Fade sung in her blood and magic erupted inside her, coiling. The baby kicked as if it too rejoiced at the touch of the Fade.
Laying her hand on Solas' cheek, she asked, "Should we get to work?"
"Yes," he answered, smirking. "But only after you have eaten."
She laughed, rolling her eyes. "Yes, mamae."
Only three days later they encountered their first resistance from humans. It was a group of bandits that'd set up camp in a jumble of boulders that formed a sheltered cove, about twenty strong and all of them human. They were slaughtered in the night, a fact Ellana only discovered the following morning when she accompanied Solas, Lyris, and half a dozen sentinels into the area to activate the charcoal runes for their next enormous circle.
As she waited beside Solas and Lyris, Ellana saw abandoned, charred bedrolls, chests, loot sacks, and other supplies. Magic still lingered in the air, making it thrum and tingle on her skin. Ellana had heard Lerand and Samhel discuss the bandit camp they'd spied the previous evening while scouting and realized this must've been it.
"You had them killed?" she asked Solas, keeping her voice neutral.
"I approached them in the evening," Solas answered. "They did not take well to my suggestion that they leave." Ellana recognized the cautious note in his voice that suggested he might be holding something back. She frowned to herself but said nothing.
Nearby the camp, where the bandits had pitched tents and maintained a hearth, keeping the earth beneath them softer in the gathering cold of winter, Ellana spotted disturbed dirt. Fresh graves, she thought and knew if she dug into the ground there she'd find fresh bones and bodies, or perhaps just ash. Exhausted by activating runes all yesterday, Ellana had gone to sleep quickly at sundown, struggling with heartburn and the baby's constant kicking and increasing weight against her spine and internal organs. Yet she'd still managed to plunge into a deep sleep. How long had Solas taken to kill these men? Had he gone with help or had he killed them singlehandedly, despite being restricted by the Veil out here beyond the finished circles?
"You didn't tell me about this," Ellana commented, again striving to keep her voice neutral. But she couldn't bring herself to look at him and instead remained focused on the recently upset, black soil.
Solas' hand brushed reassuringly over her back and then her shoulder. "I did not wish to trouble you, vhenan. These men were unthinking thugs with no capacity for anything save violence. I offered them the chance to flee; they attacked instead."
Now she rounded on him, glaring and angry. "You should have consulted me. Am I not your partner, Fen'Harel?"
He winced and started to reply but Lyris cleared her throat with a deep grunt, saying, "I advised him against waking you, Ellana. The blame is mine." She shot a sidelong glance at Solas, her expression softening with something like sympathy. "Forgive me, hahren."
Solas shook his head and made a dismissive gesture at her. "There's nothing to forgive, falon." To Ellana, however, he ducked his head, his blue eyes crinkling and narrowed with regret. "But I would ask your forgiveness, vhenan, if you would grant it."
The sight of his chagrin melted the hard, cold distrust gripping at her chest. She nodded. "Of course, emma lath, but please—include me with such things going forward."
His smile was small, reserved but genuine as it softened his eyes. "As you wish."
Next Chapter:
A herald from somewhere still within the gates called out, "Her most holy, Divine Victoria, former Seeker of Truth, Right Hand of Divine Justinia the fifth…"
Cassandra made a groaning noise in her throat, losing her patience at the ongoing barrage of titles. Her armor glimmered as she looked over the elves assembled before her. Leliana was on her left and Cullen on her right, both of them in full ceremonial formalwear. "I am pleased you have come," she said to them in greeting, though her lips were pinched in a tight line. "I hope we can come to a peaceful arrangement that suits all involved."