Warning: Short, but somewhat graphic depiction of non-consensual sexual act mid-chapter. It will be marked between these (~O~).


Solas reclined in the warmth of the bath, the tendrils of steam enveloping him like a comforting embrace. As the soothing waters eased the tension from his weary muscles, he felt the weight of the day's events begin to lift, his thoughts drifting on the currents of slumber.

Yet, just as sleep threatened to claim him, the sound of water sloshing disrupted the tranquility of the moment. Solas' eyes snapped open, his senses sharpening as he beheld Arabella's figure entering the large round tub.

Her eyes sparkled with mischief, a playful grin dancing upon her lips as she settled across from him, the water swirling around her like liquid moonlight.

Solas, not one for modesty, remained unperturbed by her nudity, his gaze meeting hers with a mixture of surprise and curiosity. Despite their lack of familiarity, he couldn't deny the allure of her presence. However, her brazenness did catch him off guard, a testament to the depths of her confidence and the complexity of her character. And yet, beneath the veneer of playfulness, he sensed a vulnerability—a glimpse of the woman behind the facade, laid bare amidst the steam and shadows.

As they sat in the warm embrace of the bath, the silence between them deepened, accentuating the sounds of the night through the open window.

When Arabella remarked about the water's temperature, Solas found himself instinctively reaching out, his hands emanating a soft white glow as he infused the water with warmth. Her surprise mirrored his own, eyes widening with curiosity as she leaned back into the soothing embrace of the bath.

Solas watched the water shimmer with renewed heat, his mind buzzing with the implications of this connection to magic that elicited strange sensations within him.

"This place..." Solas murmured, his voice barely above a whisper as he struggled to articulate the sensations coursing through him. "The connection to magic here feels..."

"Personal? Sensual, even?" Arabella interjected, her tone laced with amusement as she met his gaze with a knowing glint in her eyes. "I've heard it can be quite the experience for sorcerers and warlocks alike."

Her words hung in the air like a whisper of intrigue, her assessment of the situation striking a chord within him. His brow furrowed at the mention of warlocks, a flicker of curiosity dancing in his eyes as he regarded Arabella with newfound interest.

"Where are you from, truly, Solas?" her inquiry cut through the silence, her gaze piercing through the veil of his reticence with an unwavering intensity.

Though he found he felt safe in her presence, Solas hesitated to divulge the secrets that lay buried within the depths of his past. For him it had only been mere moments, but the truth eluded him, shrouded in mystery and uncertainty, leaving him adrift in a sea of unanswered questions.

As he met Arabella's gaze, he couldn't help but wonder if he would ever unravel Thedas' fate, the world he once called home. The thought sent a shudder down his spine, the weight of responsibility pressing upon him like a heavy cloak. The notion that he might be responsible for its destruction lingered like a specter in the shadows, haunting his every thought and casting doubt upon the path he had chosen. And yet, amidst the uncertainty, he found himself drawn to Arabella, her charm and calm presence soothing the tumult within his soul, offering a glimmer of solace amidst the shadows that clouded his mind.

Solas broke the silence with a single word, "Thedas."

Arabella gave him a curious look, her head tilting inquisitively.

"I woke up today in a realm unfamiliar to me. I don't even know how long I've been asleep," he explained, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

"Interesting," Arabella remarked, her gaze penetrating as she considered his revelation. "Do you know how you got here?"

"No," Solas replied, his voice low and troubled. "The last thing I remember... I cast a very powerful spell. That is all I feel comfortable sharing for now, if that is all right."

Arabella nodded in understanding, recognizing the weight of the dark truths that lingered within even the purest of souls. She respected his boundaries, knowing that some secrets were not meant to be shared lightly.

A small smile graced her lips as she regarded Solas, wondering what he would make of her true nature and the secrets she harbored within the depths of her own being.

"Rest," Arabella told him, her voice a gentle command as she slowly rose from the bath.

Solas' eyes openly drank in her bare form, water dripping from her curves seductively as she moved with a graceful ease.

In the silent exchange of their gazes, Arabella sensed a wild flicker of desire in his eyes, a hunger mirrored in the depths of his soul.

As she stepped out of the bath, his eyes followed her intently, lingering on her every movement with an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine.

She grabbed her robe and pulled it on slowly, the fabric cascading over her skin like a veil of shadows. With each movement, she felt his gaze burning into her, a silent invitation that hung between them like a lingering kiss.

Without a word, Arabella walked out of the washroom and into the adjoining bedroom, her sanctuary bathed in the soft glow of moonlight. She shut the door with a playful wink, while Solas remained in the bath a while longer, allowing the warmth to seep into his tired bones. He couldn't help but let his mind linger on images of her, her presence lingering like a tantalizing whisper in the recesses of his thoughts.

Eventually, he emerged from the bath, feeling refreshed yet strangely unsettled by the intensity of the day's events. As he entered the room prepared for him, his gaze fell upon a clean change of clothes, their fine craftsmanship reminiscent of garments from his homeland in an oddly comforting way.

Solas dressed slowly, the familiarity of the fabric soothing the ache of displacement that gnawed him. Climbing into the bed, he yearned for the embrace of sleep, eager to escape the tumult of his thoughts.

But as he succumbed to the pull of exhaustion, he was met with disappointment—a black and dreamless sleep devoid of the comforting embrace of his world. In its absence, he found himself adrift in the vast expanse of the unknown, grappling with the uncertainty of his journey and the secrets that lay hidden within the depths of his own being.


The next day, Arabella took Solas on a tour around the city, her focus lingering on the vibrant streets of the Lower City where she had tasks to attend to. He absorbed the sights and sounds of the city in the bright light of day, appreciating the details he had missed in the shadows of the night before.

As they walked, she spoke to him about a dark lord who had made repeated attempts to control the city through the children he sired. Her eyes gleamed dangerously as she spun the stories, her words carrying the weight of ancient lore and whispered legends. Solas didn't miss this detail, but shoved it to the back of his mind as he listened to her intently.

To Solas, the stories resonated with a universal truth—an eternal struggle for power that transcended the boundaries of time and space. It seemed to him that absolute power corrupted all things, regardless of the world or realm in which it held sway.

As they strolled through the bustling streets, he pondered the complexities of existence, his thoughts drifting to the parallels between the city's history and the conflicts that had shaped his own world. In Arabella's stories, he found echoes of his own journey—a journey fraught with darkness and redemption, where the line between hero and villain blurred like shadows in the fading light.

After a long morning exploring the city, they returned to Arabella's home for lunch, where Solas consumed his meal ravenously, his appetite betraying the hunger he hadn't realized he harbored. Arabella watched him with mirth dancing in her eyes, the shared chuckle between them a testament to the camaraderie blossoming between them.

"You're hungry?" she jested, a playful glint in her gaze.

"It seems so," Solas answered, a roguish twinkle in his eye.

Arabella took note of that mischievous spark, her mind briefly entertained by lurid thoughts before she clears her throat, redirecting her focus.

"I have a few more errands to tend to, but I'll be back before dinner. Feel free to explore the city," she said, rising from her seat. "But, please stay away from the alleys," she added with a wink.

As she departed, Solas observed the sway of her hips, a subtle allure that captured his attention as she moved out of the room. The city beckoned him with its mysteries, and with a mischievous glint of his own, he considered the possibilities that lay beyond the confines of Arabella's home.


After finishing his meal, Solas decided to heed Arabella's suggestion and explore more of the city. With his bag containing the orb slung over his shoulder, he wandered through the bustling streets, his senses attuned to the unfamiliar sights and sounds around him.

The sound of spells being cast caught his attention, drawing him towards a mesmerizing display of magic performed by three sorcerers. A crowd had gathered around them, their faces illuminated with wonder and awe as they watched the spectacle unfold.

Curious, Solas approached a bearded man standing nearby and inquired about the event. The man informed him that such displays were a daily occurrence, designed to entice passersby into entering the shop, Sorcerous Sundries. At the mention of an entire store dedicated to the arcane arts, Solas felt a surge of excitement coursing through him. Perhaps within the walls of this establishment, he could uncover valuable knowledge that would help him understand this unfamiliar realm.

Entering Sorcerous Sundries, he was greeted by the palpable thrum of magic that permeated the air. A sense of peace washed over him, the sensation of arcane energy enveloping him like a warm embrace.

Solas immersed himself in the arcane knowledge housed within, spending several hours poring over book after book. Despite encountering some foreign language, he managed to glean valuable insights from the illustrations gracing the pages.

As the sun began its descent, casting a warm glow over the city, Solas reluctantly returned the books to their shelves and bid farewell to the now quiet sanctuary of the shop. He emerged into the dusky streets, where the fading light gave way to the gentle illumination of lanterns scattered throughout the city.

Lost in thought and unfamiliar surroundings, he meandered through the lively streets, the bustling energy of the city embracing him even at that late hour. Yet, as he attempted to retrace his steps, he realized with a sinking feeling that he had become disoriented, unable to find his way back to Arabella's home. Cursing his own carelessness, Solas made his way back towards the sorcerers' shop, hoping to spot a familiar landmark to guide him. However, his efforts proved futile, and he soon found himself wandering into a neighboring alleyway in search of direction.

In the dimly lit alley, he collided with a tall elven man whose white curls framed a strikingly handsome face. Dark red eyes regarded Solas with a keen interest, a small smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

"Delicious," the elf hummed cryptically as he passed Solas, disappearing into the shadows of the alleyway, leaving him to ponder the encounter with a mixture of intrigue and apprehension.

Turning from the unsettling encounter, Solas collided with Sceleritas Fel, swallowing his repulsion at the sight of the foul-looking creature once again.

"Mistress said you might get lost," the butler said in his peculiar voice. "Follow me."

With a nod of gratitude, Solas trailed behind the hunched creature as they made their way back to Arabella's home. Relief washed over him at the familiar sight of the residence, his hunger intensifying with each step.

As they reached the threshold of the house, Solas offered a word of thanks to Sceleritas Fel before stepping inside, eager to satisfy the gnawing hunger that had plagued him throughout the evening.

Entering Arabella's home, the sound of raised voices drew his attention toward her study. Pausing near the door, he couldn't help but overhear snippets of a heated argument between Arabella and a man within.

Curiosity piqued, Solas lingered, his steps slowing as he strained to catch fragments of their conversation. However, before he could dwell further, Sceleritas nudged him with disapproval, his 'tsk' echoing a silent warning.

Feeling a pang of reluctance, Solas tore his gaze away from the closed door, suppressing the urge to eavesdrop further. With a heavy sigh, he continued his journey through the house, the weight of unanswered questions weighing heavily on his mind.

Inside the study, Arabella and Gortash engaged in a heated exchange.

"Now is the time, if we wait any longer, we run the risk of all we have carefully planned falling apart," Gortash snarled, his voice laced with urgency.

Arabella's gaze pierced him with a sharp stare. "Are you forgetting whose idea brought all of this to fruition?"

He barked a short, derisive laugh. "You let your own hubris rule over you, my dear."

Her glare deepened, and in a blur of motion, a dagger materialized in her hand faster than Gortash could react. With a deft movement, he dodged the lethal projectile as it whizzed past his ear, drawing a bead of blood before embedding itself into the closed door behind him.

"Bitch," he gasped, a wicked grin spreading slowly across his face.

"You've outworn your welcome, Enver. Now go before I take off your head and enjoy every minute of it," she commanded, her tone brooking no argument.

Gathering what remained of his composure, Gortash turned abruptly and swung the door open forcefully, the wooden panel banging against the stone wall with a resounding thud.

Arabella sighed angrily, her frustration palpable. Thoughts of Solas flickered in her mind, and she hoped fervently that Sceleritas had found him unharmed. She couldn't shake the gnawing hunger that plagued her, a constant reminder of the delicate balance she maintained in her tumultuous world.

She entered the dining room, a faint smile playing on her lips as she saw Solas seated at the table, voraciously devouring his meal. Amusement danced in her eyes as she approached.

"You have quite the appetite! I'm starting to think you have a personal grudge against my kitchen," she teased, a playful glint in her eyes.

Taking a seat beside him where her own food awaited, she chuckled at the irony of the situation. The contrasts between the world she navigated in shadows and the enigmatic elf who found himself caught in the midst of it all were not lost on her. As they shared a moment of light banter, she couldn't help but feel a subtle connection forming.

Solas hesitated for a moment, his curiosity mingling with a hint of apprehension. "Arabella," he began, his tone cautious yet earnest, "I couldn't help but overhear the commotion earlier in your study. Is everything alright?"

Her face darkened momentarily, a flicker of anger dancing in her eyes before she masked it with a casual smile, though the fire still burned beneath the surface.

"Nothing to be worried about," she assured him, her voice tinged with an edge of tension. "Just someone who refuses to come to heel."

Her gaze seemed lost in darkness for a moment, leaving him to wonder about the depths of her involvement in the shadowed world she inhabited. As she raised her wine glass to her lips, he couldn't help but sense the lingering tension between them.

As Arabella stood abruptly, a distant look clouding her features, Solas watched with a growing sense of unease.

"I will return shortly. Please make yourself comfortable in my stead," she uttered, her voice betraying no hint of the turmoil that seemed to weigh upon her.

With a heavy heart, Solas remained seated, his thoughts swirling with apprehension. A sense of foreboding gripped him as he watched Arabella vanish from view, leaving him alone yet again.

Arabella moved through the seedy part of the city with a sense of purpose, her mantle billowing out behind her as she sought out the distant echoes of distress. The cries led her to a dark alley, where the shadows whispered tales of desperation and cruelty.

~O~

In the dimness, a burly man pressed his weight against a frightened woman, her eyes pleading for help. The man's hand covered her mouth, stifling her cries for assistance as his hips bucked into her in a frenzy.

~O~

With a predatory grin, Arabella drew her dagger, aptly named Bloodthirst, from its sheath. She approached the man from behind, her movements silent and deadly, plunging the sharp dagger into his side. She stifled the moan that threatened to escape her lips at the smell of his blood, the feel of flesh giving way to steel. The woman's fear filled-eyes rolled back in her head as she fainted, falling to the ground in a heap.

She pulled the dagger out fully, before plunging into the man's side again and again. The spatter of blood hitting her face filled a deep primal urge that left her in a wanton heat. By the time she finished her onslaught, Arabella was breathless, her chest heaving up and down as she wiped her dagger clean on her cape. As her breathing slowly returned to normal, her senses began to calm, her bloodthirst sated temporarily. She looked at the woman's body sprawled out on the ground, her dress still up by her waist.

Arabella felt a surge of fury, sheathing her dagger forcefully before kicking the man's lifeless body as she walked past him. Kneeling by the woman's unconscious form, she gently righted her dress. She snapped her fingers, smelling him before she heard his voice in the dark alley.

"Yes, Master," Sceleritas crooned. "Ah, nicely done, Master! Yes. Yes. Very nice work."

"Forget him, Fel," she smiled impishly, then nodded toward the woman. "Get her somewhere safe. Make sure she has enough gold in her pockets to last the week."

Arabella rolled her eyes at his obvious disgust with his assigned task. She gave him a menacing look, causing him to raise his hands in feigned surrender.

"Right away, Master," he said, moving quickly toward the woman's prone form.

Arabella turned from the scene, one hunger sated, while another riled with a fury in her loins. She felt ravenous, thirsty, and eager to sate her body's call for pleasure. But the thought of her house guest gave her pause. She had left him alone most of the day, and for some reason she couldn't readily identify, that bothered her.

Thinking of Solas' lavender eyes and soft pout, she stalked back to her home with mischief in her eyes.


Arabella's entrance into the bathing room caused Solas to startle slightly, his smooth head popping up from the bathwater. Droplets cascaded down his face as he blinked, taking in the unexpected sight before him.

As she slowly removed her bloodied garments, a smirk played at the corners of her lips, her eyes gleaming with a mixture of mischief and desire. The air between them crackled with tension, charged with the raw energy of an indisputable physical attraction.

Arabella slid into the tub, the water rippling around her as she settled. Solas observed her with a raised brow, his gaze lingering on the bloodied remnants of her recent endeavors.

"None of it is mine," she remarked with a dark smile, the shadows in the room dancing in tandem with her enigmatic allure.

Turning her back to him, she looked over her shoulder with a sly grin, her eyes locking onto his.

"Care to get my back?" she teased; her voice laced with a daring challenge that stirred something primal within him.

Solas' movements were deliberate as he reached for the washcloth, the anticipation palpable in the air between them. With each movement, the water rippled gently, echoing the rhythm of his quickened heartbeat.

As he approached Arabella, he couldn't help but feel the weight of the moment, the intimacy of their shared space hanging heavy around them. Her playful demeanor belied the depth of the connection that simmered beneath the surface, a delicate dance of trust and vulnerability.

With a steady hand, Solas lathered the washcloth, his touch gentle as he traced the contours of her shoulders. The sensation of soft skin under his hands sent a shiver down his spine, a tantalizing reminder of the boundaries they dared to tread together in the quiet intimacy of the moment.

She moaned softly as his hands brushed lightly against her skin, the cloth seemingly forgotten. Leaning back against his chest, she purred as she felt him run the tip of his nose along her neck, inhaling deeply. She felt him shudder behind her as he wrapped an arm around her waist pulling her closer to him.

The scent of her skin heightened the primal urge roiling within, and the feel of her warm body pressed against his chest threatened to undo him. A low growl rumbled in his chest at the touch of her hand, as she reached up behind her to run her fingers across his head and down his neck.

Arabella leaned forward, grabbing the tub's edges as if to exit, and gasped when she felt Solas' hands seize her hips. She turned to look at him coyly. Arching a brow she jutted her hips back toward him, his eyes darkening lustfully.

His palm landed flatly on her backside's right cheek, and she yelped in surprise, chuckling at the smirk on his face.

"Again," she breathed out, biting her lip.

His hand came down swiftly on her left cheek, her skin reddening under the sharp sting.

Her head fell back as a low moan escaped her lips. The sound of water sloshing behind her caused her eyes to widen slightly, but she grinned as she watched him stand. Water ran down his lithe build, parting to flow down on either side of his hardened shaft.

His eyes glowed in the dimly lit room, a wolf ready to pounce on prey. She growled at him, pushing her hips back to press against him. His grip on her hips resumed and he leaned over her shoulder to leave a trail of open-mouthed kisses. He smoothed a hand up her stomach, cupping and squeezing her breast before reaching her neck and holding her there gently.

Their faces mere inches apart, Arabella looked at him wantonly through a lust-filled haze. She reveled in the danger lurking in his eyes, knowing her gaze held its own. Her lips parted in anticipation as he leaned in to brush his lips against hers, at the same time pressing into her opening slowly. She gasped into his mouth as he filled her, moaning as she stretched to fit him.

His gentle hold on her neck with one hand, the other gripping her hip, Solas drove himself into her in a slow, steady pace, the friction creating a slow burning heat. He relished the soft curses she uttered, her hand still gripping his neck, holding him tightly to her. The water in the tub sloshed forcefully with their movements, splashing on the stone floor in loud splats. The chamber echoed with the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh, accompanied by a crescendo of moans and groans.

Solas groaned into her neck as he felt her shudder around him, her climax ripping through her like a tidal wave. He followed soon after, his thrusts becoming more pronounced and urgent, emptying himself in her languidly.

The sound of her laughter washed over him like a warm breeze, her walls clenching around him as she laughed. She leaned over the edge of the tub, chest heaving and feeling spent. Solas slowly removed himself from her, pulling her back and scooping her into his arms. She gasped at the initial contact, but relaxed in his arms, looking up at him with a devilish grin as he stepped out of the tub and walked slowly to her bedroom.

Arabella studied his face intently as he looked straight ahead, carrying her gracefully and stepping with care on the drenched floor. He laid her gently on the bed, his soft touch both sensual, yet infuriating. She wanted his hands on her again, with force and without mercy, claiming her as his own. The thought shocked her, the idea of letting a man possess her in any way was not something she ever allowed. Yet, as she watched him walk around to the edge of the bed and pull her down, she felt willing–willing to let him have her as he wished.

His eyes glinted with mischief as he positioned his face between her legs, the fire in his eyes burning like slow embers as he looked up at her. For the first time in her life, Arabella felt like prey and eagerly welcomed it as his mouth enveloped her in a delicious heat.


They awoke to the gentle warmth of the morning sun filtering through the open curtains. Arabella, her voice laced with a hint of irritation, muttered a curse into the crook of Solas' neck as the sudden brightness stung her eyes. Solas chuckled softly, the sound reverberating in his chest, eliciting a smile from her.

"I'll get us some breakfast," she announced, slipping out of bed with a playful laugh as Solas feigned an attempt to capture her in his arms again.

"I'll be back," she added coyly, wrapping her robe around her slender frame before disappearing from the room.

As Arabella closed the door behind her, she was met with an unexpected guest whose presence brought a swift end to her awareness as she was swiftly knocked unconscious.

Meanwhile, in the room, Solas lay in the bed, feeling peaceful and content. Time passed, and as the minutes stretched into an oddly long absence, he began to find her delay peculiar. Wrapping a thin sheet around his waist, he decided to investigate, his reluctance to encounter the peculiar butler while in the nude an absolutely mortifying prospect.

Reaching for the doorknob, he pulled the door open, only to be met with a sudden blow that sent him spiraling into unconsciousness.


A/N: I realized today that my Durge shares the same name as the little tiefling girl Kagha holds hostage in Act I (and who reappears later if you save her). It goes without saying that my Durge and that little girl are NOT the same person. Obvious point is obvious, but I know someone out there was thinking it. :P