As of this moment, this is the second longest chapter weighing in at 13 pages long.

This is also the longest playlist I have ever used. Ever.

CRITTERS! Tell me if you find the easter egg. I want to know.

Sarah Hartman - Monster Lead Me Home

Fits and the Tantrums - The Walker

Set It Off - Why Worry

Critical Hit - No More Kings

OneRepublic - Wherever I Go

Taylor Swift - I Know Places

Selena Gomez - Bad Liar

Panic! At the Disco - Say Amen

Florence and the Machine - Remain Nameless

Yazoo - Only You

Fatboy Slim - Demons

lovelytheband - Maybe I'm Afriad

OneRepublic - Rescue Me

Blue October - Into the Ocean

Chapter 12:

The next day, Solas and I were the first ones up. I distinctly heard Sera attempting to out snore some of the troops. Alistair I'd left cuddled around some blankets and a pillow, snuffling like a puppy. Stiff and sore I attempted to stretch and nearly bellowed in agony when my back said NO. Solas, thankfully, was there before I woke the whole damn camp.

One hand going over the spot where the giant nailed me with his little toe the day before. "If you had asked me to heal this last night it would not be so painful this morning."

The soothing, cooling feeling of healing magic will never not feel good. "Well last night, I was pumped up on adrenaline and endorphins, I wasn't in pain yet." I rolled my shoulder where he healed me once the soothing feeling stopped. "You know, you use a lot more healing magic than my last few mage buddies that could heal."

"They, I am sure, were tower trained. I am self taught."

Why does such a lying liar have to be so damn likeable? "Uh huh. So, if I asked you to magic me up some bacon and eggs, you'd say?"

"I am not proficient with conjuration in that capacity." He dumped several handfuls of oats into a pot with some water over the low fire. "Though I might know of some wild figs if you'd like to go and pick them."

"Smart ass."

He simply grinned at me. "Half way down the path we took yesterday to come back up to camp. There were several ripe ones. If you please Herald."

I flipped him the bird, but couldn't help smiling too. I liked Solas. I did. I hated that next expansion he was probably the big bad someone would have to put down. Hopefully that someone wouldn't be me. I found the bush he was talking about. Or rather the cluster of bushes. I suppose it was late enough in the season. I grabbed all the ones that felt ripe enough and began making my way back to camp.

Sera and Solas were in the middle of some party banter. Ooo, I didn't miss it. She blew a raspberry at him, hands on her hips, nose wrinkled, eyes scrunched shut like a five year old.

He wore an expression that hung somewhere between did she just…? And no she did not just. "Excuse me?"

"Excuse yourself. What you said and I did, same difference to me." She even argued like a five year old.

Alistair looked mildly uncomfortable at the exchange. Alistair spotted me and gave me a desperate silent cry for help. I dodged around a couple of soldiers to arrive by the fire while Solas, well...Solas just dug that hole of his a little deeper.

"I'd hoped, well, our people can sometimes feel the rhythm of the language despite lacking the vocabulary."

"Uh huh? You know what else is good? Words that mean things. Like these." She got in his face and almost flicked his nose. "Words."

He drew back from her with a scowl. "Fenedhis lasa."

I snorted. See it was funny when I heard it in game. It was even better hearing it live. I nearly dropped the figs.

"What? What'd he say? What?" Sera asked immediately.

Alistair rubbed the back of his neck looking up at the sky. "Ellie speaks elvish."

"You!" Sera turned on me with a gawk, her jaw on the floor. "No. Why? No. Why?" She got in really close to me, "What did he say?"

I shook my head. "Nope. You want to know, you need to learn it."

"Ughhhh!" Pouting she stomped away like a five year old.

"You," Solas said quietly to me, once the food was ready and the figs were sliced to divide among us, "speak Elvish."

Alistair, having excellent hearing due to his own Elvish heritage, said, "Oh Ellie's full of surprises. This one time, we were in the Denerim and there was this guy who walked past us. He said something in Antivan that had Ellie so mad she punched him."

I shoved a spoonful of oatmeal in my mouth. I remembered that. I won't repeat what was said. It was gross and that dick deserved to be punched. "I speak enough Antivan to get by," I said, "and only because Zevran kept insisting I learn for when I finally realized he was a better lover than you know who."

"I have no idea why you put up with him. He was so," Alistair looked for the right word. "Obnoxious and cheesy."

"Pot, kettle, look it up."

"Are you saying I'm obnoxious?"

I reached across and thumbed away a crumb of bread from his chin. "But for some reason, I put up with you."

He grinned happily. "Because you love me."

I tapped his nose. "Maybe."

We spent the next two days doing all the stuff that we had to do on the Storm Coast. I'd sent the Chargers with Bull ahead to Haven to work payment terms out with Josie.

The rain eventually gave way to fog that rolled in like a blanket from the ocean on the third morning which was no better. It was still humid. Still sticky. Being out there in that felt constantly like something would be waiting to tap me on the shoulder and stick a dagger in my guts. The fog was so thick Solas lit up the tip of his staff so we would always be able to see where he was.

Honestly, I was so glad to leave by the end of the week.

The trek back was mostly uneventful with Sera taking pot shots at Solas once in a while and him not falling for it. We were blessedly dry by the day after leaving the coast so when we did finally reach Haven the frost didn't permeate our clothes. Last thing I wanted was the armor sticking uncomfortably in uncomfortable places.

"Come on, my tits are freezing off." Sera told us.

Alistair's ears turned pink. "Um…"

"Oi, where's the tavern?" Sera said to the first person she saw once inside the gate. They directed her and off she went.

"I don't know if I like her or not." Alistair said to me as we began to trudge up the stairs.

"I need a bath." I muttered to Alistair as we made our way from the stables. "I feel all the salt from the sea air crusting in places it should not be."

He took off his gloves and began pulling at the neck clasp of his armor. "I feel like I'm rusting."

"Reasons to wear hide armor instead of heavy."

"Uh huh, say that again next time I take a hit meant for you."

I gave him a playful punch on his arm. "Shut up wise ass."

"You always say the nicest things."

We were halfway up the stairs when the ground shook a little. I grabbed Alistair's arm at the same time he grabbed my shoulder. We looked at one another with mutual what the shit was that expressions. The ground seemed to shake a little again and nearly everyone else around us seemed to go with it.

What. The. Shit.

We reached the top of the stairs at the same time Shale jumped, once more making the ground shake. A small, and I do mean small, strawberry blonde haired dwarven boy clapped and giggled from her shoulder, holding onto her neck to brace himself. "Again!"

"I grow tired of this small one." Shale's gravely voice sounded as bored and annoyed as ever, but still she hopped up and down once more.

Someone here had kids? I was confused as hell for the couple of seconds it took me to find Felsi gripping herself tightly and watching the two with obvious apprehension. Oh. Oghren had a kid. Right. Which lead into, why in the name of Andraste and every other god listening did Oghren think it was a good idea to bring his wife (maybe?) and kid here?

Oh my fluffy baby jesus. Oghren was probably in the tavern. Where Sera just went. There was a loud crash from inside the tavern. I winced, Alistair winced and Felsi sighed. "Two crowns says that was Oghren."

"I'm not losing gold on it. I know that was Oghren." Alistair replied.

Sigh.

When they lived in Kirkwall nearly a decade ago now, finding Elyria had been as simple as walking to Low Town. She was in one of three places, the bakery, the Hanged Man or her flat. Kirkwall, in comparison to Haven, was essentially huge. Which is why Fenris found it so damn irritating that he could never actually find Elyria or Alistair.

He found the little black haired one who, once more, yelled at him to quote 'beat it d-bag'. As he'd learned from Elyria's book, this was Emma. The friend from Earth. He didn't need an explanation as to what a d-bag was, he felt her tone conveyed it well enough.

The way that he finally got to see Elyria was not the way he expected to see her. He was summoned to the Chantry with not one, but all of the others that had come to Haven. They all squeezed into the small room at the back of the chantry with its two large maps and bookcases. The Qunari was huge, but somehow, did not seem to even approach the height of the golem.

Shale. The golem was Shale.

In some unfathomable way they both managed to walk through the doorway without destroying the brick, mortar or woodwork. The Qunari sized up the golem who in turn, did the same.

The red haired dwarf nudged Varric and said something in a whisper that had the other dwarf snickering under his breath. Alistair stood firmly planted, arms crossed over his chest right next to Elyria. The woman in question stood with her arms crossed as well, examining the maps with deep furrows between her brows. "Is everyone here?" The authoritative tone in her voice wasn't something Fenris was used to hearing from her.

The Antivan woman that Fenris had met but never remembered the name of, did a quick head count, the feather of her quill bobbing as it went. "Yes Herald."

"Elyria," Elyria corrected absently. She always hated formalities.

"Yes Elyria," the Antivan woman corrected with a tone that said she was placating for now.

Elyria looked up, gazing at the red haired assassin, "And you're one hundred percent certain I can't have Zevran for this?"

He remembered an elf by that name. Was it the same person?

"It would take him nearly three weeks to arrive." The red haired woman said with a grimace. "I could send for him if you wish to put this off."

"No. We've waited long enough. This has to happen now."

"As you say, Elyria." The assassin inclined her head. This was the Leliana from the blight as he had also learned from Elyria's book. Now the left hand of the Divine and a leader of the Inquisition.

Elyria turned her attention to Alistair who bobbed his head and uncrossed his arms to lean on the table. His touched the marker over the Templar base. "The Templars are here, in Therinfal Redoubt."

Elyria placed her hand by the Hinterlands. "And the mages are here, in Redcliffe." She looked around at all of them, meeting gaze after gaze. Eyes the color of mint leaves fell on him and for a moment, she almost looked pained before it was gone and her gaze moved on. "The force behind this wants us to choose one side or the other. Many of you know me. A good deal of you don't. I'll say this for you. I don't put up with assholes trying to play both sides of the line."

She nodded at Alistair, "A group of you will go to the Templars. They're going to be under attack. Let me make myself clear; I do not want any heros here. We're in it to win, but not at the loss of lives."

The red haired dwarf guffawed. "When'd you grow a pair?"

"When I managed to stay standing during that high dragon fight and your ass dropped like a bag of bricks." Fenris knew that vicious tone. It was the same one she used when she was taunting an attacker.

The dwarf, turning nearly as red as his hair, "I got back up."

"Once it was down." Alistair added with a glare.
"Wait, wait," the Qunari said, "you fought a dragon?"

Elyria and Alistair turned twin expressions that said 'yes? and?'

"Okay," the Qunari said, head bobbing, a little more respectful in his tone. "You fought a dragon."

"Bull, you Lady Vivien, Alistair and Fenris will go to the Templars. Save who you can and get out. Period. If I so much as hear that one of you died in battle I will personally tear open the fade, grab your soul and drag it back to your body and kill you myself. Are we clear?"

"You got it boss," the Qunari, who must have been named Bull, said.

"Crass, dear," the dark skinned mage told her, "but understood."

Fenris simply nodded.

"Shale."

"The vengeful warrior requires my aid?" The golem's gravely voice seemed to echo despite the size and the number of people in the room.

"Leliana's scouts are being pulled. I'm not dumb enough to think that the ones we've lost are due to human error. Something is up there and it is scouting us. I need you up on this ridge." Elyria tapped a spot on the map near Haven's southern edge. "You bellow the loudest and you can take more than a few hits. I'm sending Sera with you. Sera," she addressed the blonde elf, "you stick to one job and one job only, you watch Shale's ass and I don't mean her bottom. You make sure her back is covered at all times. I want you both back here if you see anyone, and I do mean anyone that isn't Inquisition. I mean it. No heroes here. I want my people alive. Do you understand me?"

Sera gave a salute. "Yes ma'am." Though Fenris felt it was somewhat mocking, Elyria said nothing.

"It will be done, vengeful-"

"Elyria." Elyria corrected. "Just because I broke a man's nose once-"

"It bled profusely." The golem said with what could almost pass as appreciation. "I was entertained."

Elyria sighed. "I think you spent too much time around Sten."

The golem, if it was possible for a golem, harrumphed.

"What 'bout me?" The red haired dwarf asked.

"You, my smelly little buddy," the dwarf grinned at her with one front tooth missing, "I need teaching these troops how to handle a berserker. I want you to smack them around and remind them that fights can get dirty and ugly. Think you can do that? Especially the new ones. Remind them this is about to become a war. Anyone that can't cut it, you report to Cullen. He'll send them packing."

"Hehe, yeah, that I can do. I'll beat 'em 'til they're beggin' their momma's to make it stop."

"Then I am to go with you to the mages?" The bald elven mage asked.

"You, me, Cassandra and Varric. The original crew. That just leaves the rest of you." Elyria sighed, rubbing her neck and left shoulder with one hand. A move familiar to Fenris. Stress caused her tension headaches. The weight on her shoulders was no doubt heavier than he could imagine.

"I want Haven packed up and ready to go. The people should be on high alert while we're gone. Whatever took out the scouts in the hills knows we're here. We can't think for one moment it isn't the enemy. I want Haven and the people of Haven ready to go at a moments notice. Cullen, those trebuchets, I need them well oiled and loaded. Leliana, your scouts are to stick close to the borders and go in pairs. Sweeps three times a day. Bull, if you don't mind, I'd prefer some of your Chargers placed strategically, in shifts of course. They've probably seen more battles than most of our new recruits. The Legion of the Dead volunteers and the few elves we've received from the Dalish, outfit them and pair them up. I want a seasoned warrior with each new recruit. Around the clock patrols. We're not getting caught unaware."

She stared down solemnly at the maps before her. "Ladies, gentlemen and all those lacking defined gender specifications, if none of you have guessed it, we're coming to the end of this part of the game. Either we get checkmate or the other guy does. Let's make sure it's us."

The Qunari whistled low. "Damn. Make sure I never get on your bad side."

Elyria shook her head and with a small, tired laugh.

It made Fenris bristle to see Alistair's hand come down on her back and rub it from shoulder to shoulder. "Trust me, don't do that. She likes to break things and people when she's angry."

They were dismissed by Cullen, not by Elyria. Fenris watched her turn to the Antivan woman and begin discussing something in low tones. He would have waited to stay behind, but they walked out with Alistair in tow toward the Antivan's quarters without so much as glance at anyone else.

"Think their together?" The Qunari asked.

Fenris realized he and the Qunari, Bull, were all that were left in the room. "What?"

"The tall guy and and the boss. You think they're together?"

He was beginning to realize, he had no idea.

The mass of people getting on horses at the gate the next day was, to say the very least, laughable. I stood there watching Sera trying to mount Shale like a horse for a good two minutes before Shale began to stomp away. Sera ran after yelling wait, which of course, did not make Shale wait at all. Bull attempted to get on a horse, when the poor nag tried to bolt - he gave up and said he'd huff it.

I hated missing party banter between him and Vivienne, but alas, I could not be in two places at once. Alistair joined me, his pack over one shoulder. "Are you sure you don't want to send Varric with them and I'll go with you?"

I looked up at him. "Is that what you want?"

Greenish-gold eyes met mine. "I'd rather go with you."

"Change of plans," I turned my head before I yelled out. "Cassandra, you're a Seeker, you might have a better way to get through to some of the templars. Would you be willing to switch places with Alistair?" Logically I didn't need two tanks. I only needed the one, and I trusted Alistair over any other tank hands down.

Cassandra, already on her horse and had been ready to go for at least a quarter of an hour said, "If you think it best." Her tone said she didn't think it was best.

"I think you're more valuable there than with me," and it was true. I had been planning to send her with them originally but Emma changed my mind. Blackwall wasn't a Grey Warden, and Alistair would know in seconds.

With resignation she said. "I will go, but only because you asked."

"Thank you," I turned to my best buddy. "Mount up, we've got mages to save."

"Elyria."

The last thing I expected was to hear Fenris say my name while I was preparing my horse for travel. Boggie stood stock still until I practically jerked at the sound of my name coming from my former lover's mouth. That old ache in my chest started up again. I bowed my head and chanted to myself, the wound is where the light enters. I didn't turn around. "Can I help you?"

"Could we talk for a moment?"

"We're talking Fenris. Shouldn't you be prepping to leave?"

A hand wrapped around the elbow closest to him. The wound is where the light enters. Please god. Don't let me break into tears. The wound is where the light enters. I'm supposed to be strong right now. The badass leading the Inquisition into battle. I breathed in, and the air smelled like him for a moment. The wound is where the light enters.

"Elyria," he said my name as if the syllables hurt his throat.

"I was gone seven months." I told him softly, my throat catching on the words. "Seven months, not seven years. I would never have knowingly left you that long."

He breathed out like he'd been holding it. "But you did."

My whole chest ached. "What does it matter? You don't care about me anymore, remember?" I turned my back to him and mounted Boggie who was giving Fenris a death glare the likes of which should have scared any other mortal. "Move out," I called out bowing my head so others wouldn't see the tears forming in my eyes. "We're burning daylight."

Fenris watched her leave with a stone in his chest pressing on his heart. Seven months. That was all the time that had passed for her. Seven months. He dragged in a breath that hurt the back of his throat. Cold, sharp winds snapped at him. Snow drifted amongst the troops.

Why had he not simply said I love you? I still dream about you? I missed you? Please don't leave me again.

His heart twisted yet again. His gut overflowing with guilt. He never should have let the anger get to him the way he had. He was just so angry with her. Seven years without the one person whom made it past all of his defenses, that wormed her way into his heart with her smile and her laugh and kisses that left him breathless. He'd never wanted anything so much as he wanted to be with her.

Fenris remembered those days after she was gone in Denerim. Those first days were...unpleasant to say the very least. He remembered Alistair's face, hands planted on his shoulders, calming him with a promise. This, her disappearing, had happened before. Elyria would come back. He could not lose himself to anger or desperation. For her, he needed to maintain control.

Elyria was not from Thedas, Alistair reminded both Bethany and Fenris. She could pop up in the strangest of places. Like falling out of a tree in the middle of the Korcari wilds. Or at a witch's house a day later.

Fenris knew about the headaches. Elyria avoided certain mages simply because their presence could trigger them. Blood magic triggered them. Sometimes a strong spell. But she usually made a sound. There were warnings.

In Denerim, there had been no warning. No sound of pain from her lips that reached his ears. He'd felt something at his elbow, thinking it a cut purse he turned around and her clothes, her armor, dropped on the ground. Alistair made a joke about a harpy on Collins Row. Fenris had stared. His mind did not quite fathom that she was gone until he was holding her things in his hands.

They stayed in Denerim four days longer than they planned to. Eventually they left, traveling to Alistair's brother's grave in the wilds then his family in Redcliffe. Again they stayed several days longer than they planned. To give Elyria time to catch up or send a letter.

When neither happened, they trekked up the mountains to the ashes. To say the tests had been difficult lacked the profound raw, emotional state the three of them were left in after the trials. He said aloud things he'd never admitted to himself because of that damn guardian spirit.

Being afraid to love for fear that Danarius would find out and execute Elyria. That he still, in his heart of hearts, feared she would one day turn her back on him for being a murderer. For being a slave. For being scarred.

None of them had known if the ashes worked or if they had not. Alistair took the pinch, swallowed them with a bit of water and gagged. In all, after the trials, it was incredibly anti-climactic.

They returned to Redcliffe, and again, waited several days.

He watched the cheery hope in Alistair die a little at a time. Just as it began to die in Fenris as well. Bethany, somehow, managed to convince the two of them to head north to the circle. Afterward they traveled north again, and for the very first time, Fenris saw Orzammar.

He remembered standing on the walkway into the Proving Grounds, surrounded on either side by great glowing streams of lava falling to pools below. He heard about this place so many times from Elryia, Alistiar and a few times from Varric, but seeing it was believing it. He'd never been so awed by anything in all his life.

And he'd never missed Elyria so much. He could almost feel the ghost of her take his hand lacing their fingers together and whisper in one ear, "This is the point where you're supposed to say 'wow.'" He said wow and stared upward toward the cavernous ceiling and the homes built in tiers upon the walls.

Alistair put a friendly arm around his shoulder. "I know."

They took lodging at the chantry from Brother Burkle, who, apparently Alistair was great friends with. The next day they toured the Diamond District and the Shaperate, where Alistiar was greeted by the Shapers with the title Warden. They watched a Proving, violent and bloody with dwarves yelling in their native language at each other.

"Don't drink the dwarven ale." Alistair warned both Fenris and Bethany upon entering a bar to take a meal. "An old friend of mine made that mistake once and blacked out. She woke up several miles away with no memory of how she got there without any clothes."

Fenris avoided the ale. Though the food was very good. Spices he'd never tried before warmed him. When someone offered him a black moss cupcake, his chest panged for Elyria. He bought three and shared them with Alistair and Bethany. If only to tell Elyria about it when she returned. She would have loved the spicy sweet tang.

They traveled back to Denerim within the month. An extra day here, another there, eventually they bought passage and returned to Kirkwall. The hope that Elyria would return in a few days became hope that she would return in a few weeks. Weeks became months. Months became a year. A year became two, three then more.

He'd resigned himself somewhere about year four that she was not going to come back to him. Around year five, he allowed himself to look at other women again. Talk to them, flirt with them. One of Isabella's girls, a blonde though not the right shade of blonde, managed to convince him to go upstairs with her at the Hanged Man.

She kissed him, tangled her fingers in his hair, sat in his lap and asked him to take off his armor. If he closed his eyes, if only just for a moment, he could pretend her hair was the right shade of blonde. That her words were less rasping and closer to another voice and accent. She got his shirt off him. Guided his hand under her skirt.

Fenris, despite what some of their friends might have speculated, never made love to Elyria. He'd spent the night with her twice figuring out what made her moan. With his hand one one pale thigh, he had no inclination to go further. Not with the blonde. He left before her dress came off.

Celibacy wasn't new to him. It was a choice he'd made before and made again.

He should have known when Alistair hadn't been completely forthcoming after that letter from Varric that Alistair was hiding something. Wanting to get on the road as soon as possible was an indicator. Fenris, at the time, had taken it as Alistair wanting to think about anything but the noise in his head.

Then they arrived at Haven. And for just a moment, a single solitary moment standing there in the snow wearing an old coat his former love had given him, Fenris stared at the woman talking to Cullen. Nearly seven years and Elyria hadn't aged a single day. Not one. Then she turned a little and her face. The look on her face ripped open that place in his chest where his heart broke so many years ago.

His life blood all but spilling into the snow at his feet.

Where the anger - no, not simply anger - where the cold fury came from he wasn't quite sure anymore. It might have come from her running to Alistair, allowing him to embrace her first. It might have stemmed from the jealousy he always felt at the close relationship the two had.

He'd never quite come to terms with their assurances that they were just friends. Fenris had always wondered, if only at the back of his mind, if Alistair might not know he was in love with Elyria. If perhaps Elyria felt the same and she had no idea either.

The wound in his chest stopped bleeding while the two embraced. It scabbed over and closed with the sheer chaotic wrath at the very idea she'd come back. Seven years later. Varric was the one to send a letter, not her. And he'd shut down every emotion he felt aside from the anger. Everything he still felt for her blinked away when she finally turned her attention on him. He wanted to cause her the pain she caused him. Seven years worth of it.

Fenris fully expected to feel satisfied when he told her he no longer cared for her. To feel something other than inner turmoil and icy fury. Certainly not the sharp, painful twist in his chest in response to green eyes brimming with tears and the croak of her voice when she fought not to cry. Then he was even more angry.

With her, with himself. She cried. She had time to grieve him and he never had grieved her loss. Which only further fueled the fire. It was days later, after she'd gone and taken Alistair with her to Val Royeaux that he finally managed to unwind the tight coil of emotion in his chest. He'd been sitting in the tavern drinking the Inquisition soldiers under the table. Both winning and losing at Wicked Grace to a variety of men and women.

He might have been a little drunk already when the red haired assassin sat down. Of course, at the time, he hadn't known she was an assassin. Or a spymaster. Or dangerous. He had some relative knowledge she was on the council with Elyria and that, as they say, was all.

Fenris drank the wine she offered by the bottle. At some point, he wasn't quite certain when, Cullen sat down with them. He offered Fenris a place training the troops. He wouldn't answer to Elyria. He would report to Cullen directly. No one else. He polished off another bottle before he agreed to stay.

For the next week he managed to forget about the ache, the pain, the anger and frustration by working with the men and women. By immersing himself in the Inquisition. Distractions were easier than dealing with personal pain and suffering. Dealing with the repercussions of what he said to Elyria.

He saw her the day she got back. Talking to the assassin and the diplomat. The colors in her hair were further faded, the blonde almost entirely coming through now. Elyria stood near the stables, arms crossed over her chest arguing with the spymaster. Relief washed through him. Cullen told him what they were walking into in Val Royeaux.

He'd been half afraid she wouldn't come back alive. He half wished they'd asked him to join them when he heard it from Cullen's mouth. He had to pacify himself for over a week with the knowledge that Alistair and Varric were there. Two people he trusted most in this world. They would watch her back. They would keep her alive.

So Fenris could figure out a way to stop being so angry with her.

It took another few days and half a bottle of wine to work up the courage to finally knock on her door. Only to be greeted, if that's what one could call it, by Emma's tongue lashing. It took him another few days to fully read Elyria's book. By then they were back, but she was always so hard to find.

Difficult to see alone.

When he saw her with that ghastly horse - she always did like things that did not fit into the ordinary (like him) - he took a chance. He took a chance that perhaps she still cared for him too. Having his words thrown back in his face...he deserved it. Finding out it was only seven months for her while he crawled through an utter hell of nearly a decade without her ripped open that wound on his heart again.

His life blood splashing on the snow at his feet.

"Fenris," the Iron Bull called over, sounding much too familiar with the way he said Fenris' name. "You coming or what?"

He watched as in the distance, Elyria's back stiffened at his name even as she turned a corner and disappeared behind a boulder.

"I'm coming." Fenris told the Qunari with irritation. He would go and do as she asked. Help the Templars escape. Fight. Win. Come back alive.

Then they would talk.

And perhaps, if he was lucky and he'd not completely ruined everything. Then, perhaps, Elryia would agree to be his again.

I want to apologize in advance for the next chapter.

Also...just so everyone knows...I'm really sorry if I made you cry. If you hit that review button you can tell me how much this hurt and how much you hate me for it.

Critters! I hope you found the easter egg!