Our Other Inquisitor - TinaOnTheAstralPlains (2024)

Chapter 1: In His Dreams

Chapter Text

Chapter 1: In His Dreams

Cullen awoke, covered in sweat, his heart throbbing in his temples. He sat up, rubbing his hands vigorously over his face trying to scrub the image from his mind. He was covered in sweat. He threw off the sheets, letting the cool air from the hole in the roof above wash over him. For months he had been dreaming of her, ever since the explosion at the Conclave. After the first few weeks of dreams, he starting looking for her everywhere. Surely, if she was going to pervade his sleep in this manner, she had to be lurking around Haven somewhere. Though, he never found her.

A woman with long hair, black as the ravens in the rookery, streaming across his arm, her head pillowed on his shoulder, her hands fingering his tawny chest hair. Her eyes were emerald green. When she looked up at the tear in the sky, they glowed like the Veil. Her laugh echoed in his head, hauntingly. As did the way she said his name, her voice lingering on the letter ‘L’ for just a moment too long.

He could see her: walking the halls of Skyhold, cajoling with Varric, listening to Cole tell her about the infirmed, drinking with Bull, gossiping with Dorian. He had watched her ride away from Skyhold, surrounded by her friends, some of the strongest people he had ever met. Yet, he worried for her safety. He watched for her return from the window in his office. He sat at his desk long nights, hoping she’d knock on his door. She belonged here. Yet, she was nowhere to be found, coming to him only in his dreams.

He knew the feeling of her warm breath on his back, and her soft lips on his. His morning erection throbbed against his smallclothes at the memory of her fleeting fingertips strolling across his nipples. Some mornings he took care of it before getting out of bed. But, his frustration level was already too high this morning. He gritted his teeth, threw off the covers, and got dressed for a day’s work.

Rain pelted him in the face when he opened his door. Frowning, he went back into his quarters removing the piece of breastplate that he insisted on wearing daily. He could always make a squire clean and polish it later. But, they never did a good enough job for him. He ended up cleaning it himself again, every time. Today, he would save himself the trouble.

With his chin tucked, and his fur pulled up over his head he strode across the monstrous mountainside fortress that was Skyhold. He stomped off the rain before entering the door, that could have doubled as a drawbridge, into the war room. The Inquisitor was already there, sipping hot coffee from her mug, going over this morning’s missives with Leliana and Josephine.

Zunyla Lavellan was statuesque, tall and thin, with long white hair that flowed to her hips. She seemed to be exactly what their rag tag group of radicals needed. A young, Dalish mage came in and drew this Inquisition together. She was pleasant, smiling often, considerate of others, and reliable.

He didn’t know why, but something about her just didn’t sit well with him. He had yet to trust her. Perhaps it was her youth, her optimism, or her wide-eyed innocence being away from her clan for the first time. She had yet to really experience this world, let alone make decisions for an organization as large as the Inquisition had become.

Solas trusted her, however. That had to be enough for him for now. Thus far, she had proven herself to be level-headed and reliable. She was quick to lend a hand anytime it was needed, and quicker to close a rift in the Fade. Solas tutored her daily, reporting her to be a fast learner, and an adept spellcaster in the face of danger.

Zunyla and Solas had lead them from Haven to Skyhold. Side-by-side, and occasionally hand-in-hand they scouted the treacherous path up the mountainside. The journey saw two minor avalanches, but everyone arrived without further harm. The escape from Haven saw many casualties. A dozen people were carried by stretchers up to Skyhold. But, the path proved safe time and time again. The Inquisition’s growth had steadily increased in the past few months. Inquisition troops were now stationed at the foot of the Frostbacks to help aid travelers up the precarious mountain path to Skyhold. The trek between the foothold and Skyhold was now made daily, and infinitely safer than it had been when they first arrived thanks to the scouting of Solas and the Inquisitor.

Unsurprisingly, Cullen noticed Zunyla had been spending most of her time with Solas, the Inquisition’s Fade expert. Both were elves, mages, and apostates. Cullen had a good rapport with Solas. He had proven himself to be forthcoming with no shortage of helpful information about the Fade and what was happening with the rift in the sky. On occasion he’d watch them train in the courtyard. Solas never smiled, except when he was near Zunyla. The man had been with the Inquisition before it had even been named, and he had never seen him laugh or smile in all that time. Solas had brought her in after finding her in the remains of the Temple of Sacred Ashes, the sole survivor. She had been attending the Conclave as a representative of Clan Lavellan.

Cullen found Solas in his quarters on the bottom floor of the rotunda. Solas had painted the high walls in colorful frescos of the events that had transpired thus far. Wolves howled. Circle towers stood in silence. A radiant sun limned a chantry. Cullen was sure there was meaning in every brush stroke, but had neither the time nor the patience to begin deciphering the elf’s code.

“Ah, Commander,” Solas greeted him as he approached his desk. “To what to I owe this visit?”

“Solas, I wondered if I could have a word with you, in regards to our Inquisitor?” Cullen asked.

Solas closed the book which he was reading and motioned for Cullen to take a seat. “But, of course. What is it about her that troubles you?”

“That you know she gives me trouble speaks volumes to your person. I feel very little happens in Skyhold without falling upon your ears. You are ever watchful, aren’t you?”

“Only to that which is of some import. The Inquisitor and her officers are certainly worthy of my scrutiny,” Solas said, with an amiable smile.

“Ha! Well, I hope we’re living up to your standards then?” Cullen asked.

“What matters is that you’re living up to your own standards, Commander,” Solas replied.

Cullen bowed his head. “As of late, I feel that I am not.”

“Do tell,” Solas said, encouraging Cullen to continue.

“Inquisitor Lavellan . . . at every turn she seems to be putting forth all of her efforts into our cause. She has flourished as a diplomat, persevered as a warrior, and proved to be a fair adjudicator.” Cullen listed her accomplishments thinking those should be reasons enough to trust in her.

“But . . .?” Solas left the word hanging in thin air.

“But, I find myself uneasy around her. I’ve noticed that the two of you spend quite a lot of time together. And, I was wondering if you could perhaps provide me with some insight.”

“What is it about her that makes you uneasy? Her certainty? Her ability to make quick calls of judgment? Or the fact that she is your superior?” Solas asked.

“I think it comes down to the fact that I feel as if she holds all of our fates in the palm of her hand. And that hand glows with the very power of the thing we’re trying to stop,” Cullen answered.

Solas nodded. “You’re right, Commander. I advise that you spend some more time with her. Get to know her. It is the only thing to quell your fears. But, something else troubles your mind these days, does it not?”

Cullen laughed nervously. “Everything else troubles my mind these days. The lyrium dreams especially, I haven’t been sleeping well because of them. I talked to Cassandra about them. She’s quite understanding.”

“I can help.”

“Wait. Solas, are you saying there’s something you can do to help ease the effects of the lyrium dreams?” Cullen sat there, astonished. He should have thought of it earlier, that the elf who had mastered the Fade may be able to help ease the pain of the lyrium withdrawal.

“Of course there is,” Solas answered. Dreams take place in the Fade. And I am a Fade Walker. Tonight, stop by before you retire for the evening. I’ll have a draught for you to take before you go to bed. If nothing else, it will answer some questions for you.”

Cullen stood, extending a hand to the elf. “Thank you.”

“I only hope that you will be thanking me tomorrow. The Fade is unpredictable, as you know.”

***

The Keep was awash in shadows as Cullen walked back to his quarters that night. A full moon was rising, and the shadows were long. He could hear the rustling of the autumn leaves blowing in the gentle breeze, the soft nicker of a horse in the stables as one last flake of hay was being thrown, the drumming of boot heels against a stone wall.

Cole sat on the parapets overlooking the merchants’ courtyard, legs dangling over the crenellation. He rolled the wide brim of his hat in his fingers. Cullen had a soft spot for the boy. Many people in Skyhold treated Cole as a pariah. Granted, he came into this world as a spirit, perhaps even an abomination. But, Cullen could not help but be reminded of himself as a young man, new to the Templar Order, searching for his place in this world.

Cullen hopped onto the battlements, taking a seat by Cole. “You can really see everything in Skyhold under this moon, can’t you?”

“Everything that is outside can be seen, yes. But, I cannot see what is inside the walls. Can you, Commander?” Cole asked.

Sometimes, he forgot how literal Cole could be. “No, I can’t see inside the walls either, Cole.”

“I did not think so,” Cole responded.

“How are you, Cole?” Cullen asked.

“Oh, I am well. I can still hear her, though. She finds you. You don’t hear. What once was . . . should be . . . must be again. Reaches for you. Can’t hold on. Not really there.” Cole unrolled the brim of his hat, put it on his head, and hopped down. With an odd smile on his face, one that looked like it belonged to someone else, he looked up at the Commander. “Rest easy, Cullen.”

As he watched Cole walk towards the tavern Cullen tried to shake the feeling he got every time the boy dove into his thoughts. He always found it unsettling, but tonight he wasn’t surprised. He thought about those dreams frequently throughout the day. He hoped that Solas was right. Tonight, he would drink the potion and pray to Andraste for some answers.

Chapter 2: Without You

Chapter Text

Chapter 2: Without You

The raven-haired woman hovered in the green spectral mist, surrounded by four demons: envy, fear, despair, and another he did not recognize. Slowly, the demons began changing form. Now, she was encircled by Inquisitor Lavellan, Corypheus, a grey haired gentleman wearing mage robes, and someone who looked alarmingly like himself. They were taunting her as she writhed, fighting against invisible bonds. Covered in blood, her long black hair stuck to her cheek, obscuring most of her face from his view. But, he knew it was her, the woman he had been dreaming about for months.

The scene drew nearer when he merely thought about getting a closer look. The figures floated above the ground, approaching her with their arms out, hands claw-like. Glowing chartreuse fog poured from their eyes.

“Leave her alone!” he shouted. His sword appeared in his hand. He found his shield strapped to his arm. His rarely used lion head helm covered his face.

As the demons turned towards him, Cullen summoned his Templar Order training, on pure instinct. It had been months since he had imbibed lyrium, yet the abilities still felt like second nature. The elderly mage disappeared into a cloud of green mist as Cullen purged him with a spell. He turned his focus to the Inquisitor who disappeared in a cylinder of white light. Corypheus and the unidentified demon wearing his face still approached.

With the demons’ concentration broken the raven-haired woman was able to escape her bonds. A tall, thin golden staff appeared in her hands, adorned by the elegant form of a woman’s body. She lowered it at the demon Corypheus. Blue glyphs of Ancient Tevene appeared around her.
Corypheus then disappeared amidst a glowing blue circle. Only the demon of himself was left. It laughed at them, mimicking his own laugh, but corrupting it into something inherently evil sounding.

“You don’t know which of us to fight, do you Inquisitor Trevelyan?” the demon asked her, it’s voice sickeningly familiar.

“I will always know him,” she answered. “Cullen calls me Isabeau.” She fired a bolt from her staff at the demon, who disappeared in a sparkling cloud of purple lightning.

Cullen dropped his sword and shield. Then, he removed his lion helm letting it, too, clatter to the ground. He ran to her, reaching her in far fewer strides than he suspected.

She opened her arms to embrace him. Without hesitation he wrapped his arms around her, holding her to him.

“Cullen, I knew you’d come for me,” she said, sagging against his chest. Her voice hitched. Her knees gave way. “How long has it been? It’s so hard to gauge time here. It feels like both forever and yesterday, since you’ve held me.”

He caught her weight as she fell into him, tucking her head beneath his chin, a reaction that felt alarmingly familiar. He breathed in the barely lingering scent of elfroot in her hair, combed his hands through it where it fell down her back, leaning into her warmth. He could feel every bone in her body; she was so thin. Her halla skin pants were in tatters. Strips of the soft leather were tied around her arms and legs, being used as makeshift bandages. Her white dragon scale coat hung like a tent on her withered frame. Her arms were unnaturally boney, the skin hanging loose and sallow.

“You said your name is Isabeau,” he said, after several long moments.

She pulled away. Her smile faded. “What? Cullen— .”

He didn’t think it was possible for her to look any sadder, but she did as he stared at her blankly.

“You didn’t come to rescue me. You’re not really here.” She bowed her head with slumped shoulders, covering her face with her hands.

His heart hurt for her as he watched her sob silently into her palms, wavering on her feet. Reaching out, he gathered her into his arms again, holding her to him, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, which made her cry even harder.

Bunching up his tunic in her fists, she embraced him in return, trying to stem the tide of tears.
He had so many questions. Where did he start? “Can you please tell me what is going on? Why don’t I know who you are.”

Shaking her head, she took a few deep breaths in through her nose, and out through her mouth, as she wiped her eyes. “I’m stuck in the Fade. I don’t know why, or how. The last thing I remember is drinking from the Well of Sorrows. Morrigan, Solas, Varric, and Bull were with me. Morrigan and I argued.” She looked up at him, dejectedly. “You don’t remember me?”
“I-I know you, somehow. But, no. I don’t have any memories of you, or of us together. Just these dreams.” She tried to pull away from him, but he he held tight to her. “No, please?” He couldn’t let go of her, not yet.

“Cullen . . .” She hesitated, searching his eyes. Slowly, she raised her hand, laying her warm palm on his stubbled cheek. “You saved my life. You pulled me out of the avalanche back in Haven. We . . . I, —You don’t remember anything?” she asked, her voice shaking.

He shook his head. “No. That never happened.” He watched as she struggled to keep her composure. “You weren’t in Haven. I looked for you, but never found you.”

“What do you mean, I wasn’t in Haven?” Her eyebrows were scrunched, her nose wrinkled.

“I started dreaming about you in Haven, after the Conclave—”

“The Conclave! If I wasn’t there, what happened? Is the Divine alive?” She was getting frantic.

“No. She’s dead.”

Isabeau let out a sigh, closing her eyes. “I got excited for a moment. I don’t know what’s happening. Cullen, I’m trapped in the Fade.”

He rubbed his thumbs across the backs of her hands. They were rough with scars, old wounds and fresh.

“I dream about you every night. I’ve spent months waking up with the taste of you still on my lips, the scent of your hair fresh in my mind: elfroot and lavender. I know your touch. I can feel your warmth on the pillow next to me when I wake up. You haunt me.”

“Ha! Haunt you? I’m sorry if that’s how it feels.”

“Perhaps that was a poor choice of words on my part. I apologize,” he said. “I get more disappointed every morning that I wake without you. How can I miss you when I don’t even know you?”

“Maker’s breath, I miss you so much,” she admitted, tears forming in the corners of her eyes again.

“Why?” He reached up, cupping her cheek, rubbing his thumb over her soft skin. “Please, tell me why I miss you too.”

“We’ve spent many nights, and many mornings together. Waking up, rolling over to run my hand across your chest, or tracing that scar on your lip, pressing a kiss to it—it’s my favorite way to start our day.” She sniffled and wiped her nose with the back of her hand.

He pulled a handkerchief out of the pouch on his belt, handing it to her.

“I knew you were going to do that,” she said, smiling again, wiping her nose.

Everything in front of him started to dissolve into a green cloud, including her. He pulled her into his arms once again, trying to cling to her. “Isabeau, don’t go!” He shouted, his throat tight.

“Cullen—!”

He heard her yell his name as he startled awake. Sitting straight up, Cullen looked around the room for her. He was covered in sweat, though the morning air was cool. He wiped his hands roughly across the tears in his eyes. Running a hand through his disheveled hair, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and hastily got dressed. Surely Solas would have more answers for him.

Cullen did not fail to notice the stares he received as he ran across the courtyard in just his trousers and his shirt. Thankfully, it was only dawn and most of Skyhold was still asleep. Solas was awake however, and taking his morning coffee by the fire in the great hall with Varric and Dorian.

“She’s trapped in the Fade! You know, don’t you? That’s why you sent me there, to find her. What do you know about Isabeau?” Cullen’s voice was much louder than he had intended. The guests at the other tables looked in his direction, politely looking away when he looked up. He pulled out a chair and sat down in front of the elf.

“Tell me what you know,” Cullen demanded, much more quietly. “Please.”

Varric stood, mug in hand. “I think this is where we excuse ourselves, Sparkler.”

“Hush,” said Dorian. “Just be quiet and pretend like we’re not here. Maybe they won’t notice.”

Solas sipped his coffee. “Stay. Everyone will need filled in on this sooner or later. Commander, I take it that you’ve met Isabeau Trevelyan, yet still have no memories of her.”

“That’s the thing. I dream about her every night! I dream about waking up with her in my arms, running my fingers through her hair, waiting for her at the window hoping she’d walk through the gate at any moment. I just don’t know who she is. Please, tell me what in the Maker’s name is going on!” Cullen looked at Solas, pleading with him.

Solas met Cullen’s heartsick eyes. “I have been trying to figure it out for months. I have been trying to find her in the Fade. I have failed where you have succeeded. I knew she had to have been looking for you, reaching out to you from the Fade through your dreams. When you confirmed it yesterday, I thought you’d be able to find her since you would both be looking for each other. I was right, thankfully. What did she say to you?”

“She was very upset that I didn’t know her,” Cullen said, running a hand over his face. “Her pain, it was so great. I could hardly stand it. And, she asked me not to leave her there. I’ve already let her down.” Cullen held his head in his hands. “She looked so tired.”

Varric put a steaming hot cup of coffee in front of him.

“Thank you, Varric.”

“No problem, Curly. Solas, weren’t the Trevelyans at the Conclave? Like a whole gaggle of them?” Varric asked.

“Yes. Inquisitor Trevelyan’s father and her four brothers all died at the temple.”

“Inquisitor Trevelyan?” Cullen asked, eyebrows raised.

“So, two Inquisitors,” Dorian said.

“Yes,” Solas answered. “Somehow, there are two Inquisitors. Inquisitor Trevelyan ended up caught in the Fade after drinking from the Well of Sorrows, an ancient elven pool of knowledge hidden amongst the ruins in the Arbor Wilds. Morrigan, Varric, the Iron Bull, Isabeau, and myself followed a lead to take down the Red Templars. We had intended to attack Samson there. We didn’t make it that far. Samson disappeared into the temple while we were left behind to face Abelas, an ancient elven guardian of the well.

Isabeau and Morrigan argued over who was going to drink from the well. We were afraid that Samson would drink from it, gaining knowledge that might help tip the scales in favor of Corypheus. Morrigan argued that she had the education to deal with the knowledge that the well might give. Isabeau refused to let any information that could influence our success fall into the hands of another. She immersed herself in the well, and drank.

I woke up in Haven. The Temple of Sacred Ashes had just been destroyed. The victims from the Conclave were strewn across the ground. Before I could even be sure what was happening, I saw a young elven woman, Inquisitor Lavellan, emerge from the rubble. I helped her out, took her to Cassandra, and went back looking for any sign of Isabeau. I found nothing of her. I recognized the bodies of her father and brothers, based on their rings. They each wore the family crest. She was not among them, Commander.”

Cullen cradled his mug in his hands, bowing his head low over the rising steam. “I think I’m in love with her,” he said softly.

“Very much, from my understanding,” Solas tried to console him.

“So, you are the only one who remembers her?” Cullen asked.

“And Cole. He’s been quite upset that you do not,” Solas told him.

“That explains his behavior, somewhat,” Cullen responded.

“Chuckles, are you telling us that we’ve already lived through the Inquisition once, with this Inquisitor Trevelyan. Except nobody else remembers her?” Varric asked.

“That is it, precisely,” Solas affirmed.

“Why?” Dorian asked, joining the conversation.

“I know not. Your guess is as good as mine at this point. I have found nothing to lead me to finding an explanation as to why any of this is happening. I have told you all I know.” Solas took another sip of his coffee.

Varric leaned forward towards Solas. “So, you’ve seen all this before then, Chuckles?”

“No. Nothing is happening the way it happened before. The world in which Isabeau was our Inquisitor seems to have . . . well, I honestly do not know what has happened to it. My knowledge of it has done nothing in aiding the solution to this mystery.” Solas sipped his coffee.

Dorian tipped his cup, finishing his coffee, and set it gently down on his saucer. “Well, it appears that we have an Inquisitor to rescue. Best we bring this to the attention of our other Inquisitor, so that she can get us back into the Fade. And while we’re at it, we can rescue Hawke. Sound about right, Varric?”

Varric drained his mug next. “Yep. All in a day’s work. I’ll write to Fenris. Let him know the good news.”

“When you make it sound that easy, I feel rather optimistic. It makes me think that I should have told you gentlemen months ago,” Solas said.

Cullen stood, abruptly, knocking over his chair. “The love of my life is trapped in the Fade and you waited months to tell me?”

“What exactly was I to tell you? ‘Excuse me, Commander. You don’t know her, but your lover has disappeared, and we are now reliving events that have already come to pass once before. Let us tell everyone else, rally the troops, and such. Come on. Be quick about it.’ I didn’t exactly think that would go over well,” Solas replied.

“My apologies. You’re right. It wouldn’t have made any sense. I had to find out for myself. I suppose now that I know, I’m just anxious to get her out of there.” Cullen rubbed absently at the back of his neck.

“We will,” Solas nodded. “We owe it to her. She has never failed us yet.”

Chapter 3: We Need Her

Chapter Text

Chapter 3: We Need Her

Cullen insisted the entire team gathered in the war room. Solas, Varric, Dorian, Leliana, Josephine, Cassandra, the Iron Bull, Sera, Cole, Vivienne, and Blackwall stood around the war table, waiting for someone to tell them that what they were doing here. Cullen cleared his throat as Inquisitor Lavellan opened the door.

She turned around, staring at everyone wide-eyed as she closed it behind her. “What? What did I do? If this is a surprise party, you guys forgot to yell ‘Surprise!’ No? Not funny? What is it? Who died?”

“Everyone, please take a seat. I have a feeling that we’re going to be here for awhile,” Solas began. “Commander?”

“A new mission has come to our attention, one I believe to be of the highest priority,” Cullen explained.

“What in the Maker’s name could be so important that it has circumvented my ears, I wonder, Commander?” Leliana asked, her eyes narrowed.

“We have news of the Inquisitor,” he announced.

Zunyla Lavellan raised her hand; the anchor glowed brightly green. “Umm, I’m sitting right here.”

“Not you. Our other Inquisitor. One who came before you,” Cullen said.

“Ameridan? The one who has been dead for hundreds of years. We had some news of artifacts coming from the Frostback Basin last month,” Josephine informed them. “I sent Scout Harding to follow up on it. She has not yet returned.”

“No. Inquisitor Trevelyan,” Cullen told them.

A big, broad smile broke out upon Cole’s face. “You heard. Growing hopeless, no one knows where I am. Afraid. Lonely. He will remember.”

“Inquisitor who?” Zunyla asked, her eyes askance.

“Trevelyan,” Cullen answered, getting frustrated.

“The Trevelyans died in the conclave,” Cassandra pointed out.

“Not Isabeau Trevelyan,” Solas said, standing.

“Frightened. Dark. Jagged rocks. Wet, everything. Demons everywhere. One looks like my father. Not my father. Doesn’t have his eyes. Must find Hawke. Can’t stay. Miss him too much.”

“Still creepy, Kid,” Varric said.

Cole smiled and nodded.

“Who exactly is Isabeau Trevelyan,” Blackwall asked.

“She was our Inquisitor, before Zunyla came along. Everyone here knows her. Cole and I are the only ones who remember her however. That was until Cullen started having dreams of her, memories she was sending to him from the Fade.”

After Solas had recounted the entire story to the team, everyone sat quietly for several long moments.

“So, you’re saying that you and the Inquisitor, Zunyla here, will find a way to open up a way to get all of you physically into the Fade. Then, while you’re there, in a place that is designed to confuse every soul in it, one that can be different for every single person, you’ll find the other Inquisitor, and Hawke, and bring both of them back,” Vivienne clarified.

“Bugger that,” Sera exclaimed. “I’m not going to the Fade for some wanker I’ve never even met!”

“It sounds dangerous, if you ask me. Foolish even,” Blackwall said.

“I must agree with the Warden on this,” Vivienne added.

Bull shrugged. “I’m in. Hawke stuck her neck out for us. Doesn’t feel right to abandon her. And this Isabeau must be worth it if the wise elf vouches for her, and the Commander is this torn up about it.”

“Will we need two teams? I volunteer to lead the team to find Hawke. I just ask that we wait for Fenris to get here. Should be any day now. I know he’s close,” Varric said.

Cassandra shifted in her seat uneasily. “Why don’t any of the rest of us remember her, Solas?”

“That I cannot say. My only guess is that it has something to do with a connection to the Fade. I have spent a good portion of my life in the Fade. And Cole is still a spirit, human as he may seem walking around in that body. I cannot say that anyone else will remember her at all, truthfully,” Solas told her.

“Why should we bother bringing her back? We have an Inquisitor, who’s doing a tremendous job, I might add,” Leliana complimented.

Zunyla smiled. “Aw, thanks Lil. But, that’s a good point. Why do we need her. You have me now.”

Cullen cringed, silently. He was losing this battle.

Varric stood to add his voice to the debate. He looked towards the Nevarran. She smiled with a nod. “Scarlet Hawke is my best friend. She’s stood by my side for the past ten years. I would do anything for the chance to rescue her from that place. Picture your best friend, right now. Picture them in your head, in trouble, scared, alone. Would you go rescue them?”

“Yes,” Dorian answered without hesitation, diverting his eyes away from Bull.

“f*ck yeah, I would,” Bull grunted.

“Cassandra, you thought she was integral to this Inquisition at one point,” Varric said, turning to the Seeker.

“Of course. I am with you,” Cassandra nodded, placing her sword on the table.

Bull added his war hammer, Dorian his staff. Varric placed Bianca with the rest of the arsenal.
Cullen laid his sword next to the crossbow, Solas put his staff across the head of the table.
They all looked at the Inquisitor.

“We’re just waiting on you, Boss,” said Varric. “Nobody else can get us in and out of there again.”

“I’ll go, but only if Leliana or Josephine will agree with the idea. I want this vote to go the way any of our other votes go,” Zunyla said, yet to make up her mind.

“She too is our Inquisitor, ladies,” Solas reminded them. “She may know valuable information about the enemy, information no one else knows. None of us know what she learned from the well, or if it is even there now for us to try to relearn. Not only is she a priceless member of our team, she is exceedingly important to our Commander.”

Everyone in the room turned to Cullen. He forced a smile upon his solemn countenance. “I’ve dreamt about her almost every night since the conclave. For months now she’s been trying to reach out to me from the Fade. I may not remember her, but somehow . . . I know I love her. I have to try.”

Leliana sighed. “Oh, for Andraste’s sake, yes. Yes, go retrieve this woman!”

Josie hugged her. “I knew you would come around. You have my vote as well. Just promise to bring everyone back in one piece. I would hate to have to explain this to the public.”

Solas looked to Zunyla. “I think it best if we spend the next few days together studying the Fade. Getting everyone in and out of the Fade physically is going to be incredibly difficult, something neither of us have done on purpose as of yet. It will take practice.”

Zunyla smiled, blushing ever so slightly. “As you say, O wise one!”

Chapter 4: Two Letters

Chapter Text

Chapter 4: Two Letters

Fenris sat, a letter in each hand. One he had opened months ago. It read:

“Hey there, Elf,

There’s no easy way to say this. I have some bad news. Somehow, while battling the Wardens at Adamant Fortress, we got sucked into the Fade. Not just in a dream either. Scariest sh*t ever. I can’t explain it. I don’t know if anyone can. On our way out we were attacked by this beast, blocking our way. Things weren’t looking so good.

The Grey Warden, Alistair, volunteered to stay back to fight the thing, giving us enough time to get away. Hawke wouldn’t let him. She said the Wardens were too important, and too few. She shoved him out of the way, and ran towards the monster, her staff held high. The Inquisitor grabbed my hand, pulling me back through with her, out of the Fade. There was nothing I could do. That feels like a lie. I should have done more.

I have no words. Scarlet got left behind. I am beyond sorry.

-V”

The grief Fenris felt when he read the letter was unbearable. He remembered collapsing to the cold stone floor, in a cave, somewhere in the middle of Maker forsaken Thedas. He didn’t know how the raven found him.

He had been dreaming about her, every night since he got Varric’s first letter. She was always looking for him, calling out his name. Often, he woke up in a cold sweat, struggling through painful shortness of breath. The first few days he’d sit with his arms wrapped around his knees, shaking uncontrollably, crying like a lost child. Somehow, it got easier as time passed. Not that he missed her any less.

Every single day he thought about her, wished he would have married her before they parted ways. He wondered if Carver knew, or Aveline. Hopefully Varric would tell them. He couldn’t.
It had been months, and to this day he woke up every morning thinking about saying goodbye to her.

“Fenris, red lyrium has the taint. The Warden Commander is looking for a cure for the Calling. She’s trying to find a way to stop the taint from taking hold of a person. It should cure you too. You must go with her. Alistair is going to meet me at Skyhold. He’s also going to go help the Inquisition. They need us right now.”

She touched his face, pushing the long hair out of his eyes, tracing his cheek with her fingertips. He turned his hand into her palm, planting a kiss there. Taking hold of the back of his neck, she stood up on her tip-toes to kiss him.

“I love you,” she said against his lips.

“Come back to me, Scarlet,” he said against hers.

She didn’t.

***

Now, another letter had arrived from Varric. He turned it in his fingers, still unopened. It was delivered by courier, along with a leather pouch for the Warden Commander. How the Inquisition scout found them, he’d never know.

It couldn’t get any worse, he thought, deciding to break the wax seal.

“Hey there, Elf,

I don’t know where in Thedas you are these days, but I need you to get to Skyhold. And I need you to be here as soon as possible, like yesterday. I have some good news. Now, don’t get your hopes up too much, but we’re heading back into the Fade. We’re going to rescue Hawke and our Inquisitor, our other Inquisitor. Long story.

Sure, I guess there’s a chance it won’t work. I can at the very least get you into the Fade. If nothing else you can choose to stay there and spend the rest of your life looking for Hawke. But, I’m telling you we’re going to find her. And we’re going to get her out. I won’t let them leave without you.

-V”

As he tried to read the letter again, he realized his hands were shaking. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he stared at the words, “We’re going to rescue Hawke.”

Chapter 5: With Cream and Sugar and Eerie Green Fog

Chapter Text

Chapter 5: With Cream and Sugar and Eerie Green Fog

Isabeau

One moment I was standing back-to-back with Scarlet Hawke, ushering the Grey Warden, Alistair through the rift with Varric, Dorian, and Bull. Hawke had insisted on causing a distraction, allowing us time to escape. I had insisted that noone was left behind on the Inquisitor’s watch, especially not someone who had done everything in her power not to get caught up in this mess over the last decade.

In the next moment, the oozing, pock-marked monstrosity we had been battling advanced past our defenses, slapping one tree trunk sized tentacle down between us. Hawke and I were separated. The rift sealed itself shut behind our friends. I ran for cover. I hadn’t seen Hawke since.

I had no way of knowing how long it had been. A week, a month, a year? It made no difference. Time was a construct of the material world. In the Fade, there was no dusk nor dawn. The sky was a green miasma. Around every shadowy corner was more nonsense. Nothing was as it seemed.

I wandered in and out of my memories in a dream-like state. Everything was real, until violently and suddenly, it wasn’t. I could no longer differentiate between dreams, memories, and my current horrifying reality. Terror and uncertainty had become my companions, waiting for me around every corner. Sleep was elusive, finding me only through sheer exhaustion.

The Fade wanted you to sleep, wanted to invade your mind when your guard was down.

***

I was standing next to Skyhold’s portcullis, reins in hand. His amber eyes caught mine the moment before I was going to turn away from him to mount my nuggalope, Lily. They didn’t leave. With purpose, he strode towards me. My hand slid from the reins, gliding over his fur-covered shoulder as he wrapped his arms around my back. His lips came crashing down to mine, our first public kiss.

Ever since he pulled me from the snow after the destruction of Haven, I had known I loved him. I had tried telling myself it was merely lust covered infatuation. But, the first time he took me, right there on top of his desk, I had known I never again wanted to live without him.

I felt the hitch in his breathing, the tightness of his throat. He pressed his forehead to mine, running his hands through my hair, cupping my face.

“More than anything, I want to ask you to stay. No, I want to beg you not to leave, to give this task to another,” Cullen whispered.

I clutched at the meat of his back, white-knuckled. “Cullen . . .”

“Beau-Beau,” he exhaled.

I pressed my lips to his ear. “I will always come home to you.”

He kissed me again with unexpected passion. “It isn’t home without you,” he said, wrapping my hands in his, kissing my knuckles. “I promise to never hold you back.”

I kissed his lips again. “I know.”

As I looked up at him, Cullen’s eyes flared bright green. His nostrils widened as green and black smoke poured from them.

***

A terror screeched in my face, slashing with needle sharp claws at the end of freakishly long limbs. With both hands, I sent an arc of lightning at its cavernous toothy grin. The demon exploded into shards of green embers. I covered my face with my hands, falling to my knees. My chest was heavy. I couldn’t catch my breath. Tears flowed down my face.

“It’s the Fade. It’s the Fade. It’s the Fade. It’s the Fade,” I repeated, clutching my head.

I needed to stay alert. They would take opportunity seeing my vulnerability. I wiped the blood from my shin where the rocks had bit into me. Blood drew demons. I ripped another shred of leather from the bottom of my pants leg, which was now barely covering my knee. I dabbed the blood away until it no longer threatened to pour down my shins when I stood again.

Tossing the scrap into a corner, I stood, smoothing my hair, and wiping my face. I tugged my waistband back up towards my waist. My pants fell back down around my hips, which had become alarmingly gaunt. How long had it been since I’d eaten?

I ran, trying to stay ahead of the visions following me. Cullen would return in something far more terrible than our last moment together. I expected him around every corner, knowing he would eventually turn into a demon, but tried to enjoy the brief moments of happiness that preceded. My pace did not slow until I was so winded that I thought I might pass out. Blood had run down my shins again. I didn’t have much clothing left.

Despite making the visions more tortuous, I waded through the corrupt water of the Fade. On the other side of the lagoon was a sheltered nook. I crawled into the corner, making myself as small as possible, thankful for a place with only one direction to watch. At least, that’s what the Fade wanted me to think.

***

I recognized the Great Hall of Kinloch Hold from the time my father had taken me to Ser Gregoir’s Senior Knight-Captain ceremony. I remember Cullen telling me that he had been in attendance too. Part of me was disappointed that our paths had not crossed. Surely, I would have fallen for him then. But, he assured me he was already so enamored with Trio Amell, who would become the Hero of Ferelden. He had said he would have been ashamed not to have noticed me if I had noticed him.

However, this was not Ser Gregoir’s ceremony. The tower walls were covered in grotesque gobs of tainted rotten flesh. I walked the halls as if being led towards a specific destination. I heard muttering at the end of the long hallway, not daring to look inside any of the closed doors. I peaked inside of the open doors, just putting my head in long enough to make a perimeter sweep of the room.

The door at the end of the hallway was open. Inside, a shimmering dome of light rose above a man crouching on the ground, holding his head in his hands. He chanted, “They will not take me. They will not take me. They will not take me.”

He wore his hair in tight curls. I had only ever seen it that way when he first came out of the shower. Now, he spent time every morning combing product through his hair, molding it into a sophisticated display of charm.

In front of him stood an abhorrent illusion of a white haired woman dancing in front of the very real form of a desire demon. She cooed and cajoled, begging Cullen to look at her. Glittering rings hung from her nipples, a delicate chain linked them together, tinkling softly as she undulated.

“Thank you for sparing me at my Harrowing,” she drolled. “Disobeying orders was the right thing to do to save my life, Ser Cullen.”

“Are you supposed to be the Hero of Fereldan?” I asked.

The facade fell away. Turning abruptly, the demon hissed.

I widened my stance, preparing for the attack. “Because he would never f*ck you. He prefers brunettes these days.”

Its mouth opened impossibly wide, screeching so loudly Cullen and I both covered our ears. Cullen stood, staring at me.

The demon’s long fuschia hair trailed behind as it approached me, hovering a foot above the floor. Its voice was soft. “What are you doing here? You’re not in his memories yet. I can’t use you. Be gone.”

“Let him go!” I demanded.

The demon straightened its posture. “No.” It flicked a nipple ring. “But, I’ll trade.”

Though I felt I had nothing left, I summoned the mana within. A bolt of lightning shot from my hand towards the demon. It dodged. Sparks ricocheted off the shield Cullen had erected around himself.

“Let him go!” Another arc of lightning shot from my hand, knocking a halberd off the weapons rack on the wall.

“Make me,” the demon said, running a finger across the shimmering dome above Cullen.

“I can do that.” I reached deep within my inner font, drawing forth a prison of my own, capturing the wretched spirit inside a cage of crackling lightning. I approached Cullen. “Are you injured?

“No,” he answered, stepping towards me cautiously.

“Don’t speak to him like that. He doesn’t know you,” the demon hissed.

“Doesn’t he?” I asked, as his eyes met mine.

Cullen’s head co*cked to the side. His eyes narrowed, questioningly. He was so young, already so determined. “Who are you?”

“Stop it!” the demon spat.

Cullen took another step forward. From the look on his face, I knew that he was trying to recognize me.

Suddenly, I froze in place, held by a glowing paralysis rune beneath my feet. The demon laughed, still imprisoned what I thought was a safe distance away. “You’re a hack demon. You know that’s not going to last long, otherwise you would not feel the need to test your mettle against a templar such as him.”

The demon’s voice echoed in my head. “He will submit to me.”

“No. He won’t. Remember? You said it yourself. He doesn’t know me yet. And, I know how this story ends. He doesn’t give in to you.”

With the truth of those words, the demon’s paralysis glyph was broken.

I drew my own glyph, binding the demon as it had done to me. When I turned back to Cullen he had retreated to the back edge of the glimmering dome.

“I know you’re scared. Mages did this to you. Abominations. They’re upstairs trying to take over this tower. Trio will be here soon. She’s going to have to save you this time.”

“Who are you,” he asked, taking a step toward me. “How can you do magic without a staff,” he noticed.

“Desperate times,” I shrugged. “I’m someone who loves you.” I touched my fingertip to the barrier Cullen had made around himself. It shocked me, draining most of the energy that was holding me upright. “I can’t break this. I’m not really here. It’s a memory, one the Fade has stolen and twisted into something to hurt you.”

“How do I know you?” he asked, approaching.

“You’re going to be okay. Trio’s coming for you.” My voice quavered. “Cullen, I’m stuck in the Fade. I need you to come find me.”

He strode towards me, a look of recognition beginning to spread across his face. “I’ll find you.”

“I know.” Tears sprung to my eyes.

His eyes began to glow eerily bright green, and he too faded back into the Fade.

***

I trudged, tired, but not yet defeated. The fresh visions of Cullen took some of the pain away. His pain was my pain, tight in my chest, every moment he withstood that demon’s offer. The strength he showed fighting the desire to give in, to end his torture gave me a renewed vigor. He had seen his fellow templars fall, seen mages under his watch become abominations. Every death weighed on him. His conscience worked remarkably well for a man who operated under a thick layer of guilt and failure.

Cullen would make it out of Kinloch Hold alive. He would be stronger for it. He would triumph after spending a decade in Kirkwall under the tutelage of Knight-Commander Meredith who would be driven to madness by the taint of red lyrium.

What I did not know was if he had ever forgiven himself. When he struggled through the debilitating effects of lyrium withdrawal he had opened up to me, and his fellow advisors. He had entrusted Cassandra to pass judgment on his mental state, and she had overwhelmingly stated that he was fit for duty. Still, he could not hide the sickness or the mood swings that tore through him as his mind and body tried convincing him that without lyrium death, or worse, was imminent.

That’s when he and I had departed Skyhold for a lakeside cabin outside of Honnleath, where he had lived as as child. We had shared the duties of preparing meals. He made hot-headed accusations. I listened, knowing that logical thought was not his current strong suit.

***

After more than a week of mopping the sweat from his sleeping brow, and listening to him list reasons why he should step down from his post as Commander of the Inquisition’s armed forces, I awoke to the smell of bacon. For the first time, he had awoken before me. Cullen had insisted I not lift a finger. He had burnt the edges of the bacon, just like my mother had done, proving that he had heard every word I had ever said to him. The coffee in the mug he put in my hands was the exact shade of caramel as when I made it myself. He absently rubbed the back of his neck waiting for me to take a sip.

“It’s perfect,” I said.

“You haven’t even tasted it yet,” he blurt out, more harshly than he had intended.

I took his hand. “I don’t need to taste it to know that his moment is perfect.”

He knelt in front of where I sat on the couch. “Thank you for everything. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

I sipped my perfect coffee. “Yes, you could have. You just wouldn’t have slept or eaten as well.”

“Regardless, it feels . . . right, to have you here with me. I had wanted to spend more time with you, but couldn’t find a way to manage it.”

“I suppose now that you’re doing so well, it’s time we should head back to Skyhold,” I suggested, staring into my mug.

“Another day, or two, perhaps. One step forward, two steps back, right? I might be desperate to track down some lyrium tomorrow.” He wiped sweat from his brow with the back of his hand.

“You won’t be. Tomorrow will be a good day, too,” I promised.

“Then, we’ll spend it together. Like today. We’ll go back to Skyhold the day after.”

We finished breakfast, then washed the dishes together in silence, drying and putting them away before looking at each other, lustfully.

“Now that you’re not mopping my head with a wet rag, what shall we do with our time?” he asked, setting the towel on the edge of the sink.

My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. I had no words. This man took my breath away. I stepped forward, sliding my hands under the hem of his shirt. I fingered the ridges of his rippling abdominals, more from lack of food than exercise these days. My thumbs traced the deep ‘V’ of his hips.

Cullen moaned, letting his forehead fall against mine. “I don’t know that this is part of the rehabilitation process,” he chuckled, nervously.

“Oh, it is. I learned it in mage school.”

“What else did you learn in mage school,” he asked, sardonically.

“This,” I said, bringing forth the energy of my protective barrier to my fingertips.

He relaxed into my body. “Wow. That feels good. I thought I felt good this morning, but that’s incredible.” He swayed, reaching out for me to help catch his balance. His hands slid around my hips down to my buttocks. “I-I-I-I’m sorry,” he stammered.

I inhaled sharply, my breath catching in my chest. “No. Don’t be sorry. I was worried that you wouldn’t want to touch me in that way any more, after going through this.”

Cullen looked puzzled. “Why would you think that? I’ve been restraining myself from touching you ever since we left Skyhold.”

“I thought maybe you’d be embarrassed, that you might pull away from me, that you wouldn’t want this.” My chin quivered at the thought of not having him as my other half.

He clutched me to his chest. “Isabeau, my feelings for you are stronger than ever, and I didn’t think that was possible. It has been twenty years since anyone has taken care of me in this manner. I’m surprised, and delighted, and more in love with you than—”

I stepped away from him as my hands fell to my sides.

“What?” he asked, looking horrified.

“You’re in love with me?” I asked, my heart swelling.

“I told you that weeks ago, after our first night together,” he said.

“I guess I didn’t realize it was the same thing. I love my mother, but I’m not in love with her.”

“That’s good to know,” he nodded.

“I just—”

“You’re not in love with me,” he stated, flatly.

“No!” I heard his heart shatter. “I mean, yes. I am very much in love with you. Completely. I just thought you were too busy to . . .”

Cullen’s glassy eyes captured mine. “Isabeau, I am never too busy for you. And, I have never loved the way I love you.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Not even the Warden?”

He cupped my face in his hands. “No. She and I never had the opportunity to really get to know each other on a personal level. I couldn’t tell you her parents’ names: Elsbeth and Jameson, or how she takes her coffee. She meant something to me, but I was never in love with her. I didn’t know what love was, not yet. I never fet like if she left, that everything of which I was certain would crumble.”

The tears came then, unbidden. He brought his mouth down to mine. I tipped my chin to his, letting him capture my lips. Blindly, I set the final cold sip of coffee on the table to wrap my arms around his shoulders. He picked me up, twirling me in a circle, before setting me back down on my feet.

“Cullen Stanton Rutherford, I have been in love with you since I was still in handcuffs.”

He laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, sorry about that.”

I dipped a hand inside of his shirt again, tugging at his waistband. “I mean, we could reenact the scene sometime, if you’d like to apologize thoroughly.”

A rumbling growl escaped his throat as he tangled his hands into my hair.

The eerie green fog returned, and he was gone.

***

I awoke retching black bile. There was nothing to eat in the Fade. My stomach was more than empty, it was turning inside out. Hearing a loud crash nearby, I lumbered off to investigate.

A demon, the likes of which I had never seen before stalked a small, dark figure far below. What should have been its face was covered in deep, bloody gashes. Bubbling red saliva sprayed from its maw, where only jagged teeth poked through bleeding gums as it hissed. Shreds of skin covered its misshapen body. It walked like a deformed crab, with skin pale as Orlesian bone porcelain and limbs covered in black and blood red bruised mottling, and open wounds. Its hands were on the ground, all four of them. The demon’s back stretched out behind and above it, curling over its head. Freakishly long legs skittered towards the opponent it faced.

I hurtled down the cliffside to help. Surely, that was Hawke. I was not quiet about my approach, hoping to distract it. The demon roared, red spittle dripping from its razor sharp teeth. It picked its way up the shear rock face towards me, leaving Hawke forgotten.

Behind Hawke, the colossal demon we had faced the day we had become trapped in the Fade shambled towards us. Hawke began running towards me to. She looked as bedraggled as I felt. Behind her stood an elf with a shock of white hair, wearing skin tight black leather. His body glowed with the blue and red, of the lyrium tattoos etched into his skin. He roared a battle cry at the hulking mass of decayed flesh that had thwarted us in the last battle, garnering its full attention. The bone white demon stalking me turned at the noise.

I used the distraction to attack it with a bolt of lightning, knocking it back down the rock wall towards Hawke. She jumped over the hurtling form, spraying it with fire from her hands. The demon screamed, shrilly as blood shot out of it in arcs. With a green poof, it disappeared into fog.

The elf was briefly distracted by our victory. A grotesque pink tentacle slammed him against a jagged boulder. He fell to the ground in a glowing red heap.

“Fenris!” Hawke yelled, sprinting towards him.

“Cover me!” Cullen yelled. He charged forward, sprinting across the field of battle, sword and shield in hand. A tentacle lunged for him. He chopped it off, blocking the next attack with his shield as Fenris got to his feet.

“Cullen!” My voice shouted his name. Some gross demon wearing my face approached him, a sickening sashay to her hips.

Without hesitation, he impaled the creature, spitting on its dying body before it disappeared into green mist. “You are not her.”

The colossal tentacled beast roared one last time and fell. Countless arrows stuck out of its back. Fenris jumped onto its swollen skin, driving his sword in to the hilt with a blinding blue and red glow surrounding him. He reached into the beast, withdrawing a hand of bloody goo. He tossed it onto the ground. The putrid body, and the heart next to it evaporated into green mist.

Fenris ran to Scarlet Hawke, sweeping her up into his embrace. They collapsed against each other, their bodies wracked with sobs, overcome with the emotion of seeing someone thought long gone. I knew what love like that meant.

Cassandra, Varric, Cole, Dorian, and the Iron Bull were standing behind the creature, staring in my direction. Cullen turned to me then, seeing me for the first time.

Suddenly, the cliff was gone and I stood in front of my team. Cullen approached slowly, sheathing his sword, letting his shield clatter to the ground. He had a thin cut weeping down his cheek.

My lip quivered. “I knew you’d come for me.”

His calloused fingers lovingly traced my jaw as his eyes studied the lines of my face. I turned into his hand, kissing his palm. His other hand wrapped around me, settling into the small of my back, drawing me into his warmth. With a slow, deliberate motion, he pulled me into his embrace, nuzzling my head as he tucked me under his chin. He stroked my back smoothing out my tangled mass of braids.

I lost all my strength in that moment, collapsing into his arms. I tried stifling a sob as relief washed over me. He kissed the top of my head as he caught me against his chest. I felt his breath hitch.

“You came for me. I knew you’d come for me.” Tears streamed from the pit the Fade had dug inside of me. My knees buckled.

He scooped me up before I could fall to the ground, one strong arm behind my knees, the other behind my back. He cradled my thin frame against his chest.

I was safe.

“You’re real,” he whispered against my hair. “I’m taking you home.”

“Zuny, get us out of here,” Solas shouted.

A green tear appeared before us. On the other side was blue sky. I wrapped my arms tightly around Cullen’s neck, finally letting go of the control to which I had so tightly been clinging. I wanted to insist everyone else get safely through first, but I could not seem to find the power of speech. Without looking back, Cullen carried me home.

Chapter 6: Stay

Chapter Text

Chapter 6: Stay

Cullen

Adamant Fortress was completely surrounded by Inquisition troops. Captain Rylen had been a Templar with Cullen, and his troops were eager to impress their commanding officers. His entire regiment volunteered for the assignment. The desert of the Western Approach was inhospitable. The water supply at the fortress had been tainted by roving Darkspawn.

Rumours of the “other” Inquisitor had quickly spread throughout Skyhold. Many others volunteered to travel way out to Adamant, in the middle of the desert since there was so much to do in the area.

Cullen insisted both Isabeau and Hawke needed time to rest before undertaking the arduous three week journey back to Skyhold. He sent scouts and ravens with news of the successful rescue mission. By the end of the day he was exhausted. They had entered the Fade at Sunrise, and returned three days later, when only hours had passed for them in the Fade.

Relief had begun to affect his body in unexpected ways. He could hardly keep his eyes open as he shuffled papers back into folders, sliding the stationary into his pack. He heard Rylen checking in with the patrol leads. No Darkspawn sightings since they arrived. Cullen stood, interlaced his fingers, and stretched his arms above his head, rolling his shoulders and neck in circles.

Rylen picked up the rucksack and shoved it into Cullen’s breastplate. “You’re officially relieved of duty, Commander. I think someone is waiting for you.” He nodded to the tallest battlement.

She leaned against the yellow bricks of the fortress. Sand whipped through her long, dark hair with a stiff breeze. She covered her face with her tattered scarf until it passed. Turning around, her rich green eyes met his. She looked like she should be on the cover to one of Varric’s novels.

Cullen nodded. “Captain, enjoy your shift.”

They met on the roof. She had climbed down three sets of ladders. He had climbed three flights of stairs. Both were breathing heavily.

She sighed, taking a long gulp from the waterskin he handed her. He watched her throat ripple as she swallowed, picturing it beneath his lips. She handed him back the skin. His cheeks flushed pink when his hand brushed hers.

“It’s— uh, thirsty?” he fumbled.

Isabeau smiled. “Yeah.” She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, leaving a dirty smear.

Cullen reached out, but stopped before touching her. “You have something there,” he said, pointing to her chin.

“Oh.” She wiped her chin on her sleeve.

“Hungry?” he asked.

“Yes, it’s hungry too. Anytime, it gets too far away from food it panics a little, actually,” she admitted, rubbing her belly.

Her gibe made him smile. “Any idea of how long you were in there?” he asked.

“No. I mean, I’m still alive. But, there certainly wasn’t any food or water. There aren’t any real days or nights in the Fade. So, I— I just don’t know.”

Her agitation was palpable. “Let’s get some food in you.” He laid his hand on her back. “Slowly, though. Your stomach isn’t going to know what to do with it yet. It’s likely to come back up.”

She nodded, clearly already experiencing that. Her cheeks were sunken, and her collarbone could have held water. She was a shriveled memory of what he had pictured. But, by Andraste’s grace he knew this woman. He worked all night while she slept, or tried to work when he wasn’t thinking about her. A bedroll was ready for her on a cot when they had stepped out of the Fade. He lead her straight to it, next to his, where she had slept for the next eleven hours.

As slowly as possible, she took tiny bites of bread and jerky, chewing until hardly anything was left before swallowing. She had wolfed down broth earlier; it had vacated her stomach soon after. Small sips this time, with each bite. After eating they shook the sand out of their bedding, and remade their bedrolls. Cullen had insisted on packing cots. Even with just the thin layer of canvas, suspended in air across two wooden rods she said it felt as if she was in the most magnificent Orlesian featherbed.

Relaxing as she sat on the bed, her shoulders slumped and her head lolled gently before snapping back up.

“Why don’t you just sleep?” Cullen said, handing her a wineskin. “. . .a few small sips should be fine.”

Without making eye contact, she handed it back. “Thank you.”

“I’ll let you get some rest.” He turned to go, but stopped. With his back to her his face crumpled. A pregnant pause stretched between them.

“Cullen,” she struggled, as if her mouth had forgotten how to form words.

He turned back to her, his lips agape and eyes wide with hope.

She sighed heavily. Her bottom lip quivered as she implored him silently.

Jaw clenched, he pressed his lips together so hard they turned white, Cullen exhaled. “Isabeau.” He knelt before her, taking her hand, pressing it to his lips. A tear escaped as his hand starts shaking.

She cradled the back of his head, curling around him for several long breaths.

Cullen looked up at her, wiping the tears from his cheeks. “How do you know me?” he asked.

Isabeau looked alarmed. “What do you mean, ‘How do I know you?’ I’m your . . .” Her lip began to tremble once again. She clenched her jaw in an attempt to still herself. “Cullen, you are my everything.”

Tears burst forth from his eyes again. He laid his head in her lap. She smoothed his hair, saying soothing things to him. “I’ve dreamt of you these past few months. Since we arrived at Skyhold they’ve been more vivid. I can’t get you out of my thoughts. Solas and Cole tell me that we were in love, which I have no trouble believing.” He fished a handkerchief out of the pocket of his waistcoat, dabbing his face. When he looked up at her, concern was knit on her brow.

“You don’t remember me?” she asked, pulling her hand away from his.

“No,” he answered, taking a seat on his cot, facing her.

Her breath hitched in her chest. Her eyes glazed over as she stared into nothingness.

“But, I do know you, Isabeau. I’ve been dreaming of you for months now, dreaming of us . . . together. I have felt you reaching for me, heard you talking to me. I may not remember you, but feel like I know you.”

“You may not know me but, you came for me. For that I will forever be grateful.” She shut her eyes for a long moment before looking at him again. “Yours are the eyes of the man who put my heart back together after the death of my father and brothers at the conclave, the arms that held me everytime I returned to Skyhold.”

He knew the memory of her had to be within him.

“Do you remember giving me your coin? Do you remember the lyrium withdrawal? Or the time Lily came up lame and you came to find us?”

He shook his head. “No,” he answered, forlornly.

Tears streamed down her face. “I don’t think you’re my Cullen,” she sobbed.

“Don’t say that.” His hand roughly stroked her hair, shaking. His breath hitched deep in his chest. “Please,” he begged.

“I just don’t want you wasting your time with me. I don’t think I’m supposed to be here. I’m in the wrong place.”

“Beau-Beau?”

“No, please,” she said, holding a stiff arm out to him.

“Isabeau, listen to me,” he ordered, gripping her wrist. “Hawke and Fenris have reunited and they don’t have anything . . . weird, like this, going on between them. Fenris’ memory of her is intact.”

Isabeau dried her eyes, and blew her nose in the offered handkerchief.

“Yes, we have another Inquisitor, somehow. But, I think that this world, and the world you left are one and the same.”

She held out the handkerchief. Playfully, he batted it away. Her eyes widened.

“You always try to give it back,” he laughed.

“Yeah, I guess I do,” she relented, co*cking her head to the side with a shrug.

They had set out for Skyhold two days later. Cullen, Isabeau, Varric, Hawke, Fenris, and a battalion of Inquisition scouts and soldiers formed their return train to Skyhold. Inquisitor Lavellan and her traveling companions had been called to other official Inquisition business and were reallocated. A squire handed Lily’s reins to her. The nuggalope, a brilliantly colored violet and magenta Gwaren Land Hammer, buried her fat nose in Isabeau’s hand, snurffling for treats. Isabeau reached into her pouch, slipping a biscuit into the whiskered lips. Lily crunched it once, and swallowed. Her nose returned to the pouch. Isabeau pushed it away.

“There’s only a few left, Big Girl,” Isabeau told her.

“Cole recommended we bring her for you,” Cullen said.

“He remembers me?” Isabeau asked, her head snapping around.

“Yes. So does Solas. And, Lily apparently,” he answered. Cullen held out his interlaced hands for her foot, giving her a boost.

During the three week long journey back, Hawke and Isabeau recounted their harrowing time in the Fade. The two women, both mages, had their bodies weakened by hunger and blood loss, and their minds warped by demons. Both were found wearing tattered rags, with strips of their clothing tied about their bodies as bandages. And, both were extremely thin from malnourishment, and couldn’t seem to get enough sleep.

Cullen and Fenris listened, their faces long in sympathy . Varric’s head hung, guilt weighing heavily on his shoulders. Fenris had showed them Varric’s letters, which he kept folded and pressed against his heart. Varric couldn’t recall sending the first letter about losing Hawke in the Fade. But, he clearly remembered sending the latter, telling Fenris they were going to the Fade to rescue Hawke.

Isabeau recounted an extraordinary tale about meeting Dorian in Redcliffe after Fiona and Ferelden’s homeless Circle mages joined forces with a Tevinter magister who had usurped Redcliffe castle from Arl Teagan. In conclusion, she added the fact that Magister Alexius had an amulet that allowed him to use some sort of highly incendiary time magic. She had even experienced parts of it again while in the Fade. Dorian recalled a similar experience, though insisted it was all a dream.

By the time they had returned to Skyhold, Hawke was clearly every bit as exhausted as Isabeau. They had both recounted their experiences in the Fade more times than either of them had cared to discuss. New details continued to emerge as they explored memories they both preferred to forget. Cullen promised he would consider it their official debriefing, and had scribes listening and recording as much as possible while on the road.

***

Isabeau

The sun set quickly behind the snow-capped peaks of the Frostbacks as they crossed the the threshold beneath the heavy portcullis of Skyhold’s only entrance. When we had first found Skyhold, Solas, Dorian, Vivienne, and myself had all searched for entrances veiled by magic, or glyphs allowing for teleportation into the keep. Cullen, Leliana, and Gatsi, the stonemason, had searched extensively for secret entrances. They simply did not exist.

No one who had ever passed through the gate had seen a more defensible fortress. It was possible one did not exist.

I rolled my shoulders, stretching my neck before dismounting Lily. I gave the nuggalope my last biscuit, and kissed her on the nose before loosening the girth. I handed the reins to a squire, one Cullen had long ago assured me grew up on a nuggalope farm, and was overqualified for the job of “stable boy.”

I gazed up to the balcony of the Inquisitor’s quarters, high above the courtyard in the main tower. I had always considered them to be a little extravagant, rarely spending any time there besides sleeping, until Cullen and I . . . Well, I had refused to let him sleep in that room with the huge hole in the ceiling. We had spent most of our nights, since the first, together in front of the roaring fireplace, or warm within the velvet curtains of the four poster Orlesian bed. The tower room had become a comfort after a long journey across the Frostbacks. Or in this case, across all of Orlais.

The room was mine no longer. I was too tired to fret over my missing belongings, well almost too tired. The Trevelyan signet ring, my first staff, a portrait of the Trevelyan estate my mother had shipped from Ostwick, all gone, I assumed. Just like Cullen’s memory of me.

He didn’t know me, I thought.

After being shown to my new quarters, I insisted that I was going to be asleep within minutes, and sent everyone away. Curled up on a strange bed, in a strange room in Skyhold was no comfort. I cried, harder than I had cried since coming out of the Fade. Big, heaving sobs were muffled by the pillow until eventually, I slept.

I awoke to the light of the full moon streaming through an arrow slit near the door. After washing my face of crusted tears, and some snot too, I dressed in grey woolen tights, and an Orlesian silk shift, then wrapped myself in a clean velveteen robe that had been warming on a table near the fireplace. Fennec fur lined booties were sitting beneath.

The battlements were nearly vacant at this hour. Guards dotted each corner and doorway, nodding at me before returning to whatever midnight conversations took place at this altitude. What I wouldn’t give for a hot cup of coffee. I figured the kitchens might be stirring already, and set my destination.

Snow capped all the mountain peaks, and could be seen falling in the distance. The perpetual autumn of Skyhold was never questioned aloud. The red, orange, and yellow leaves never finished falling from the trees. The air never turned bitter cold to match the surrounding Frostbacks; a more secret lair I could not imagine. Skyhold looked the same as when I had left. The scaffolding was in the same corners. Horsemaster Dennet managed the stables. The hoary cook, Old Nan was stirring a cauldron by firelight. Old Nan clucked and pecked her way through scullery maids and larder boys faster than they could be assigned to duty.

“Come get something hot,” Old Nan ordered, without turning to see who had entered her domain.

“Thank you, Nanette,” I said, taking the cup of black coffee. The iceblock already held a carafe of fresh milk. A bone white Orlesian sugar bowl sat on the counter next to it.

Old Nan looked up in surprise, then continued shuffling past me to a mixing bowl covered with a tea towel. She gently poked the dough with a finger watching to see how quickly the depression filled in, then turned it out onto a floured board. “Make fist sized rolls. Don’t overwork the dough or it’ll get tough, mind you.”

I took another long sip of the hot, caramel colored coffee and began working without a word. By the time I had covered the entire counter with rolls Nan was gathering them up to slide them into the brick oven. A line of workers in white aprons burst through the door and breakfast in the kitchen was in full bloom.

“Get you another cuppa before these fools drink it all up, and be gone now. Take a ball of dough if it fancies you.” Nan waved me quickly out of the shrinking galley.

I had been a fan of dough since I was a child. I was always stealing a fresh raw noodle or fingerful of batter. “Did Old Nan remember me?” I wondered.

The first light of dawn kissed the snowy peaks. I climbed the endless steps of the guard tower until Cullen’s door loomed overhead. Hesitant of how to proceed, I laid my palm on the worn, vaguely hand shaped spot above the door knob no one used, and pressed my forehead to the old oak. “I never used to knock,” I whispered. With a depressed sigh, I sat with my back to the wood, and gulped the quickly cooling coffee.

The return to Skyhold was not feeling as triumphant as I had hoped it would be. The concern that I was in the wrong place and time niggled at the growing fear I was trying to silence, aware I was losing that battle. The door opened. I fell flat on my back, staring up at the most mesmerizing pair of sleepless amber colored eyes I had ever seen.

Cullen chuckled, low in his throat, a familiar sound that chased away my doubts. “I thought I heard someone out here. It happens more than one would think . . . women swooning at my door, that is.” He took the coffee cup from my outstretched hand, as I successfully kept the last few drops from spilling in the fall. “Next time, please come in. You’re always welcome.”

“I couldn’t sleep,” I said, dusting off as I picked myself up.

“I, too, have been up for hours,” he admitted.

He helped me up, then held out his hand offering for me to come inside.

“Won’t your office be full of recently swooned women?” I teased.

“Oh, I don’t let any of the others in,” he answered.

Several candles burned low. Papers were strewn across his desk. A bottle of Thedas sat precariously in the corner. I moved it closer to the center, knowing how prone he was to knocking it off with his elbow, or occasionally on purpose. Thinking about our first time together made me flush.

***

He had missed dinner. So, I had Nan make him a plate. When I got to his office, the door stood wide open. More than a dozen scouts and lieutenants were packed in front of his desk, shoulder-to-shoulder. I snuck around them, leaning against the wall behind the door where I could see him between the towering heads of the audience in front of me. He droned on for a few more minutes answering questions before his eyes finally landed on me. The corner of his scarred lip curled at me, quickly enough so noone else saw him smile. He stopped mid-sentence.

“What was I saying?” Cullen asked, not taking his eyes from me. When a scout attempted to posit an answer, he dismissed the lot of them.

That familiar warmth spread through me. I had to focus on not dropping the plate in my hands.

They filed out two-by-two, as he stood behind them, ushering them out.

He closed the heavy door with both hands, leaning against it, his hand hanging as he stretched his neck. He looked over at me.

I held out the plate. “I brought you dinner, since you worked through it.”

“That was thoughtful. Thank you,” he said, taking the plate from me. He folded the napkin that had covered the plate, setting it on the desk. He picked up the fork on the edge and scarfed down his cold food as I told him what he missed at dinner.

“Nothing too exciting,” I said.

“You brought the exciting part to me. That’s what matters.” His eyes captured mine, they held longing and unanswered questions. “Have you thought about what happens when all this excitement is over?” he asked, relief washing over him.

“Do you mean, what happens to us?” I clarified.

He nodded. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed the last bit of food.

“I’ve thought about it quite a lot, actually.”

Cullen set down the plate on his desk, turning back to me. “And?”

“And, it rips my heart out to think about walking away from you,” I told him.

“I won’t want to move on, not from you,” he said.

“Then, we find something new together after all this.” I reached for him.

He had come in for a kiss, backing me up to the edge of the desk. As I wound my arms behind his back and over his shoulders, his mouth had captured mine. I hitched a leg up over his thigh, pressing my pelvis to his. He answered, his erection straining against his breeches for freedom. Rubbing my mound against his still hardening co*ck, I moaned into his mouth. With one wild sweep of his arm, he cleared everything off the desk. Papers went flying, and a bottle of wine crashed into the wall, shattering. The plate clattered to the ground, unbroken. His hands grabbed my backside, hoisting me onto the desk. Seductively, he encouraged me to lay back so that he could straddle me.

Beneath him my body roiled across his turgid shaft. It responded, throbbing against me. Without further ado, I reached down, grinding the palm of my hand against him before sliding it into my waistband. I slid my pants down to my knees, slipping two fingers between my lips, circling my pulsating center.

Quickly, he fumbled with his belt, shoving his pants down. His co*ck sprung free against the back of my hand. I grasped him firmly, pumping my hand up and down his thick co*ck. Momentarily, I worried it might be a tight fit. I guide the head of his prick to my lips, slick with desire. Without hesitation he slid into me, slowly, deftly, sheathing himself to the hilt. From within, I massaged his length. He pulled out, shakily trying to maintain a sense of decorum as he slid back in. He could cum at any moment.

His head pitches backward. Green smoke pours out of his mouth as the veins in his neck bulge.

***

Cullen laid a hand on my shoulder. “Are you okay?”

I look up at him standing there holding my coffee mug. With a shaky hand I reach for it, expecting him to turn to green smoke at any moment.

I cannot stop shaking. He takes the cup from me, setting it on his desk before leading me to a small burgundy leather loveseat in the corner, a loveseat that never used to be there.

“Would you, please, tell me about it?” he asks.

I didn’t want to talk about it any more, but the Fade occupied all my thoughts. However, when I was with Cullen, all I could think about was him.

“Every time I saw you, in the Fade, a demon would appear. Or you would disappear into awful green mist.” I refolded my hands in my lap. “I just keep waiting for it to happen again.” Tears threatened to return.

Cullen put his arm around me, pulling me in close to his side. He was warm, and he wasn’t wearing armor, and his lips were pressed to my temple. The ‘V’ of his shirt allowed his straw colored chest hair to peek at me. My fingers found themselves there on their own volition as I curled into him. I twirled the curls the way I always had. He cupped the back of my head, raking his fingers across my scalp the way he used to.

He felt both familiar and foreign, much the same way I felt to myself.

“I should have stayed with you. My apologies for leaving you alone earlier,” he said.

“Well, I insisted.”

“Still, I should have known better,” he replied.

“How could you? You don’t know me at all!” I wailed. “Cullen, this isn’t the Skyhold I left. I don’t belong here.” I sobbed. Tears streamed down my face, again. My body crumpled as my chest tried to catch its breath through the sorrow.

Cullen pressed a kiss to my head. “You do belong here. With me. Maker take me, I know you do.”

I shook my head ‘no.’ Cullen held me, letting me release my troubles into the world to seek their
own answers, since he had none.

“You belong with me,” he promised, another kiss to my head. “Later, we’ll go to the war room to meet with Leliana and Josephine. We’ll work on finding out more.”

“What good will that do?” I asked, feeling hopeless and sorry for myself, wiping my nose on my new robe’s sleeve.

He handed me a handkerchief, which I took with a smile. “We won’t know until we try. Promise me you won’t do anything brash, like leaving under cover of darkness.” His eyes shone with worry. “Please, Isabeau,” he begged. “Don’t leave me again?” He was just as afraid.

Cullen was all I had in this world. I was incapable of leaving him behind no matter how strange Skyhold and the Inquisition had become. “I promise,” I said, handing the handkerchief back to him.

“Keep it,” he said, giving my hand a squeeze. “Let’s get dressed and get some breakfast,” he suggested.

***

Cullen

Everyone had welcomed Isabeau with open arms at breakfast. Cullen watched her relax with a hot cup of coffee in her hands, surrounded by her friends. Even if most of them didn’t remember her, they didn’t let it show.

Dorian asked her how she was feeling now that she was back in Thedas. Varric updated her on Hawke and Fenris, who had decided not to meet the masses this morning. Bull got Dorian some more coffee. Cullen didn’t usually have breakfast in the Great Hall with everyone, but somehow this felt familiar.

He had had to finally excuse them to meet with Leliana and Josephine in the war room. Inquisitor Lavellan was, of course, also in attendance, as well as Cassandra. The morning sun was finally up over the mountain peaks, streaming in through the stained glass windows.

Leliana looked up from her missives, welcoming Isabeau with open arms. She cooed about ensuring Isabeau’s needs were being met, not once referring to her as Inquisitor Trevelyan.

Cullen’s nose wrinkled.

“Cullen is taking excellent care of me,” Isabeau assured her.

Leliana laid a hand on his arm. “Of course he is. He’s very much in love with you, afterall.”

His eyes narrowed nominally.

“Tsk, tsk,” Josie chided. “Leliana, how dare you mock them.”

“Josie?” Leliana exclaimed.

“We all heard it in your voice, and I will not have it! This woman is our Inquisitor, and will be treated as such.” Josephine’s bravado was not to be trifled with. Her eyes stopped, catching their gazes, waiting for affirmation from each present.

“According to both Cole and Solas, who we have all decided to regard with trust and respect, she has been with us since the Conclave. Inquisitor Lavellan, while also our Inquisitor, came after Inquisitor Trevelyan, who was trapped in the Fade with the Champion of Kirkwall, at Adamant Fortress. Together, we have all decided to treat this as fact. Or do you disagree with that statement?” Josie asked.

“No,” everyone replied.

“Good. Inquisitor—”

Zunyla looked up. “Yes?”

Josie smiled, sheepishly. “I suppose I should use your first names when you are in a room together. My apologies.”

“Your apology isn’t necessary,” Zunyla replied. “But, appreciated and accepted. It’s going to take some getting used to.” She reached over the war table to shake Isabeau’s hand. “We haven’t been introduced. I’m Zunyla of Clan Lavellan.”

“Isabeau of House Trevelyan at Ostwick. Wow. It’s been a long time since I’ve said that. Does my mother think I’m dead?” she asked, suddenly feeling panicked.

“I have written to your mother, informing her that you have arrived at Skyhold. She’s been invited for a visit,” Josie informed her.

“Thanks.” Isabeau’s eyes drifted closed in relief. Cullen put a hand on her arm.

“I have some questions,” Cassandra said, quickly getting a foot into the conversation.

“Of course,” Isabeau nodded.

Cassandra looked to the advisers. “Shouldn’t we corroborate her story with Solas? To confirm.”

Cullen stepped forward, pressing his palms to the table. “I have been dreaming about this woman since the night of the conclave. I would know if some demon walked out of the Fade wearing her skin.”

“No, you wouldn’t,” Isabeau said, looking at the shocked faces. “I was there. I lived it. Every day I was tortured with memories of Cullen, of all of you. One moment I was reliving a perfectly normal memory. The next, I was fighting off claws and fangs and green smoke. One moment Cullen would lean in for a kiss and the next I’d be running for my life, sliding down shale cliffs, cutting open my shins and forearms. The demons followed the blood. They were never far behind. I didn’t sleep, and there was nothing to eat. I just ran until I had to stop to catch my breath. Then, I’d sit in a dark corner until I dozed off, only to be awakened by another demon attacking me through another loved one in another dream, or memory or whatever it was.”

She drifted away for a moment. “I tried to remember what Solas talked about, when he would enter the Fade through dreams to explore the minds of the dreamers who had gone before. I tried getting out of my own head, but I couldn’t concentrate. I have never been so terrified.”

Isabeau looked around at the faces of her friends, and one stranger who looked like she might be interested in becoming a friend. “I’m not here to be your Inquisitor again. I just want to be somewhere safe.”

“You are safe,” Solas spoke up from behind her. “I promise.”

“Solas, how kind of you to join us,” Leliana said.

Zunyla smirked, knowing he wasn’t invited.

Solas waggled an eyebrow at her. “While you may not be interested in resuming your role as Inquisitor, I can assure all of you that it is necessary if we actually presume to defeat Corypheus. Isabeau has actual first hand knowledge of him from experiences that differed greatly from those of Zunyla, and from Hawke.” He turned, addressing the advisors. “I have spoken with several other residents of Skyhold who also have memory of Inquisitor Trevelyan. In fact, Chef Nanette doesn’t even know of Inquisitor Lavellan.”

“You mean Old Nan?” Zunyla asked.

“Yes,” Solas answered.

“Yeah, I don’t go anywhere near that woman. She frightens me.”

“Oh, she’s a sweet woman,” Leliana assured her.

“My point is,” Solas continued, “. . .that Nanette has never met Zunyla. All of her memories of the Inquisition involve Isabeau.”

“Curious,” Cassandra stated.

“Very,” Josephine agreed. “Certainly, there must be some strong magic in effect here.”

“Blood magic,” Leliana said.

“Agreed,” Cullen nodded. “This reeks of blood magic.” He took a seat, resting his elbows on his knees. He rubbed the backs of his hands with his thumbs, and cracked his knuckles.

“Venatori,” came a voice from outside the door.

“Come in, Dorian,” Cassandra called to him.

Dorian poked his head in the door. Varric pushed past him. The Iron Bull’s horned head popped into view above Dorian. Cole shuffled in behind the men and closed the door silently behind them.

“It has to be the Venatori. Who else has the motive and resources to pull off something this big?” Dorian asked, rhetorically.

“He’s got a point,” Varric agreed.

The Iron Bull stood silently sentinel behind Isabeau. Cole stood in front of him, staring at Isabeau. Cole had a habit of staring at a person or situation when he was contemplative. Isabeau reached for his hand, giving it a squeeze.

“Of course it’s the Vints,” Iron Bull said.

Dorian’s eye daggers were aimed for Bull’s eyepatch.

“What? I’m agreeing with you,” Iron Bull replied.

“They’re camped out in the Hissing Wastes, have the whole desert on lockdown. No one else can get in or out. It’s far enough away that we haven’t heard it yet,” Isabeau informed them.

“Solas, is this as you remember it?” Cassandra asked.

“It is,” he answered. “Now, they are centered in the Emerald Graves, as I recall. However, the first time around Zunyla wasn’t even here. It is not reasonable to expect the path of one Inquisitor to mimic the path of the other.”

Isabeau watched as Zunyla watched Solas relentlessly. Her gaze rarely left his shining head. She was mesmerized by him. Cullen seemed to remember when he first started looking that way at someone else in this very same room.

“We have not yet explored that region. It may be wise to do so. We should at least know who is attempting to control that region of Orlais. Orlais certainly doesn’t give two nugs about it.” Cassandra moved the Inquisition statue on the war table from its current location at Skyhold, west to the Hissing Wastes.

Isabeau stood up. “I’ll go with her. I don’t really have anything else to do.”

Josephine tsked. “No, no. You have broken ribs, and need to gain at least a stone before you’re going anywhere.”

“I have to agree with Josie,” Leliana said.

“I note that I’m biased, but so do I,” Cullen’s eyes met hers. “You need to rest and heal. You can go back out on the road after those ribs knit. When you’ll let Iron Bull hit you with his board, you can start going on missions again.”

“I have no intentions of letting Bull hit me with that tree trunk,” Isabeau retorted.

“Fine,” Bull added. “When you can lift it to hit me you can go.”

Isabeau sighed. “Fine.”

“And, not one of Dorian’s sissy hits. You have to hit me for real, like Cassandra does it.” Bull laughed.

Varric barked a laugh, giving away his location in the corner. “Sorry, Sparkler.”

“Is there anyone else who has decided to attend a secret meeting that they weren’t invited to in the first place?” Josephine asked.

Vivienne and Sera stepped out from the shadows.

“Good now that we’re all here,” Leliana cleared her throat. “Zunyla, Cassandra, Vivienne, and Sera will go to the Hissing Wastes. As unseen as possible.”

Chapter 7: The Herald's Rest

Chapter Text

Chapter 7: The Herald's Rest

Isabeau

The Iron Bull, Varric, Dorian, and Cole accompanied me to the Herald’s Rest tavern for a late afternoon lunch. Maryden’s midday set was long over. The bard’s long legs were propped up on a table in the corner with Krem and the rest of the Chargers. Bull waved. The Chargers waved. Bull shook his horns at them. The Chargers put their fingers to the side of their heads and gave him the horns back. The mercenary company was as close as siblings, united by a big lush of a father, with horns.

The atmosphere inside the Herald’s Rest tavern was celebratory, respectfully. We sat at a table next to the staircase. To my left, Dorian flirted, almost shamelessly, under the table with Bull. The two would lock eyes, an eyebrow would raise, or a moustache would twirl. Had they been involved before, and I hadn’t noticed? I spent an awful lot of time with them to not see this spectacle.

“So, boss,” the Iron Bull began, “got any idea why the Venatori would attack you in such a manner?”

“First of all, I think it’s more of an attack on the Inquisition. But, it does feel pretty personal,” I answered. “I have no idea how to even begin to figure out why they did it, or how. It’s different than what Magister Alexius used.”

“Yes please, do tell me more about this business with Magister Alexius?” Dorian asked. “I read your briefing, but I’d love to hear it from you directly.” Dorian put an arm around me. “We need to know everything you know, dear. If it happened to you it’s important, even if we don’t have the same memories as you.”

I took a long swig of my beer. “Wow, where do I start? Ah, well Bull, Varric, Solas and I had travelled to Redcliffe to meet with Fiona, to discuss the plight of the displaced Ferelden Circle mages. When we arrived, Fiona didn’t know us, and Magister Alexius had invaded and overthrown Redcliffe Castle. That’s when you found us in the Chantry, and told us that you knew Alexius, and had followed him from Tevinter to Ferelden.”

“I did indeed follow Alexius when he left Minrathous. He went south, towards Weisshaupt. I believe he was in search of the Hero of Ferelden, or the Wardens. I decided to head towards Orlais to see what all the fuss of the Conclave was about. Fortunately, I was late.”

The Iron Bull reached across the table, taking Dorian’s hand, a sad smile played across his lips.

“We were permitted an audience with the new arl,” I continued. “. . . who immediately attacked us. Then, as we began to overtake his mages, he used some magical pendant, which zorted us all into some f*cked up alternate future. I don’t even know how many different Inquisitions I’ve seen at this point.” I shook my head. It felt heavy and loud, like it was full of croaking bullfrogs. The anchor, that stupid mark on my hand tied me to the Fade. I almost felt it call to me now.

Dorian laid a hand on my shoulder. “The reason I left my studies with him was because he had started experimenting with time magic, to try to cure the Taint in his son. Most mages in Tevinter dabble in a little blood magic. But, this was something altogether different, something I didn’t sign on for. If he’s using the magic now . . . again, this could get worse.”

“However, my most recent change in time and location happened when I went into the Fade to begin with . . . wait, maybe it happened when you came to rescue me, when you went into the Fade. It doesn’t appear that Alexius is connected to either of those instances.” I knew talking about this would get me nowhere.

“Hmmm,” Dorian mused. “You may be right. The fact that most of us have no memory of you, and have relived the last few months might not be connected to Alexius at all. But, it may still be the same type of magic being used. What was the last thing you did before being pulled into the Fade?”

“The last event of my original time with the Inquisition happened when I decided to drink from the Well of Sorrows instead of letting Morrigan do it like she had wanted to. I could just kick myself.” I clenched my eyes tightly shut at the mistake that I might just have the opportunity to remedy.

“Right, some ancient elven pool of knowledge deep in the Arbor Wilds? I hear the scouts haven’t made it anywhere near the area yet with all the turmoil. But, Leliana appears to think it’s high priority. So, I’m sure we’ll learn something soon,” Varric informed us.

“Since when do you have insider knowledge about Sister Nightingale?” Dorian asked.

“A-a-a-a-ah, Cassandra mentioned it to me,” Varric stammered. Varric never stammered.

Dorian glanced at me out of the corner of his eyes. I glanced at Varric. Varric did not look up.

“I wonder if Solas is familiar with this ancient elven well?” Dorian asked.

“I wonder that too,” I agreed. “I’ll speak with him soon.”

A round of drinks arrived from a server I didn’t recognize. Bull dropped a handfull of coin into her hand before she left. Cole slid in next to me, in a spot far too small for him. One-cheeked he sat on the bench, looking ahead at the table. “You never left. He kept you here. He never let go of you.”

I scooted over, giving him room next to me. “Cullen.” I replied.

“Cullen,” Cole nodded.

“I never let go of him either.”

“Being gone let him redeem himself. He couldn’t save nineteen of his closest friends, but he did save the life of the woman he loves. He hates to put a price on life. But, he has balance now. And it scares him. Balance is new. New is hard. You’re old. You’re easy, and comforting. Even though you’re not whole.”

I dabbed at my eyes. “Thanks, Cole.”

“That’s why you need each other. You taught me it’s okay to need people. To need people to remember me.” Cole said, smiling, looking almost normal.

“Thanks, Cole.”

“For what?” Cole asked.

“Thank you for trusting in me,” I told him.

He nodded. “You trust me too.”

“So, what have you been up to while I was away?”

“I think I am happy,” Cole said, looking up at her from beneath the floppy oversized rim of his hat. “I met someone.”

I saw it then. Maryden smiled at Cole from behind her reclined feet. Cole’s head bobbed. “She sings to me. I make her not feel so sad.”

“Those sound like excellent reasons to care for someone, Cole,” I smiled, rubbing Cole’s back. “Would you like a hug?”

Cole opened his arms wide. “I would love to hug you. You were gone for a very long time.”

I hugged my friend. How good it felt to hug someone who remembered me. Wait, he knows what I know! I thought. “Cole, what do you remember about Magister Alexius?”

“He’s a bad man who thinks he has good intentions, but he’s wrong. He turned me into red stone. It hurt very much.”

“Yes, yes it did. I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure that he doesn’t hurt anyone else again. Can you help me find him?”

Cole stood. I put a hand on his arm. “Not now, Cole. But, soon.”

Cole sat down again. “Soon. Yes.”

Dorian sighed. “Cole, what did I say about lines like that?”

“It makes me sound like a serial killer.”

I laughed. “You’ve learned so much about being human while I was gone.”

“One hundred and seventy-three days is a long time.” Cole said.

“Wait, you know how long I was gone?!” I exclaimed.

Cole put a biscuit into his mouth, spraying crumbs as he spoke. “I counted.” Cole put his arm around me. “Beau-Beau, you were right. ‘It will get better. A little bit. Every day.’”

I remember saying that to him when I found him sitting on the battlements, late one night. He was especially melancholy. And, I was on my way back to my quarters following a lovers tryst in a dark corner after a long walk with Cullen.

It was something my mother might have said to me. I could hear her voice.

“Beau-Beau . . .”

Only my parents and my brothers had ever called me that. No one in the Circle had ever used the diminutive. But, here at Skyhold all of my friends used it, and they had never even met my family.

Varric took my hand. “It’s different for all of us, Boss. Let’s have another drink. Soon enough everything will feel like old times.” Suddenly, Varric’s eyes darted to the door.

Cassandra had just entered the pub. She stood in the doorway, backlit by the sunlight. She looked like the statue of a hero in a town square. When she saw Varric, her eyes lit up. She came over the the table smiling as she took a seat across from him. Their eyes met ever so briefly. Her nose wrinkled as she gave him a head nod in greeting.

“Seeker,” Varric said, flatly.

Dorian nudged my knee with his. I nodded my head once in his direction. The language of gossip had withstood the test of time.

“Varric, have you written the next part to Swords and Shields,” I asked.

Cassandra made a noise in her throat, then coughed.

“Yeah. Why do you ask? Are you a fan?” Varric got excited, leaning over towards me. “I didn’t think anyone was reading that smut.”

“I hear it’s quite popular in Orlesian society,” Cassandra added, smoothing her close cropped hair behind her ears. “I’ve seen several copies in the Great Hall.”

“You don’t say?” Varric pursed his lips, nodding. “I guess I should send it to my publisher then.”

I stood. “You should do that. I think I’m going to head off to find Solas. I’ll catch up with everyone at dinner later.”

Dorian jumped up, putting an arm around my shoulders as I got up. “We’ll go with you. I think we’re overdue for some privacy.” He wore a blue fustian velvet doublet, strapped over an off-white cream silk shirt with modest lace gathered at the wrists. The lace ruffle spilled over his chest. There were far more straps on Dorian’s clothing than could have been useful. I had a feeling that was part of what attracted Bull to him in the first place. He seemed like the kind of guy to have a close personal relationship with leather straps.

The Iron Bull patted Cole on the shoulder. “I’ll see you later kid.”

“Seven o’clock sharp, thee Iron Bull,” Cole replied.

Solas stopped me as I walked out the door. “Inquisitor . . . ah, Inquisitor Trevelyan,” he corrected.

“Isabeau.” I laid hand on his arm.

“Isabeau, would you care to take tea with me later this afternoon?” he asked.

Just the man I was looking for. However, Solas despised tea. “Sure,” I told him. There are two reasons Solas would ask me to tea: One, he was testing me. Or two, he wanted to gloat about something he discovered regarding the Fade and this whole debacle. I was tempted to sleep through tea, but decided I was curious enough to go.

***

Skyhold’s garden courtyard was separated from the main courtyard by a ten foot stone wall that enveloped the entire garden. A stone cathedral-esque gazebo stood off to one side against the wall. There were two small steps to get into it, making it rather stage-like. A covered porch area lined half the courtyard at the base of Skyhold’s main hall. It was a popular place for outdoor lunches, lover’s trysts, and anyone who wanted to escape the hustle-and-bustle of the main thoroughfare. Except for the occasional rowdy child, or luted court minstrel, it was a quiet place.

Solas sat at a short round table with a white table cloth, in one of two white wicker chairs set up in the garden courtyard gazebo during tea time. The Orlesians fancied the Inquisition as Orlesian too since we were technically in Orlais, even though it was widely accepted that the actual border between Fereldan and Orlais was the Frostbacks themselves. Early on in our Skyhold days, I argued that the Inquisition should claim to be based neither in Ferelden nor Orlais.

Josie had said, “we’ll take Orlais as long as they’re claiming us. You’ll see. We’ll fund the entirety of the Inquisition on old Orlesian coin.”

So, Skyhold had a tea time.

A steaming teapot, two teacups, and a three tiered dish of scones and crustless sandwiches sat on the table.

The steaming teapot sat in the middle of a matching tea set of antique Orlesian bone porcelain covered in periwinkle and mauve crystal grace. The teacups had tiny curlique handles, and sat on dainty saucers. The squat sugar dish had clawed feet with golden talons on each toe. The creamer was a bone white lioness in a hunters crouch. A three-tiered crystal serving platter held a variety of scones in the middle, a layer of petit-fours on top, and a base of crustless sandwiches. The Orlesians were very serious about their tea, and their lions.

Solas, one leg daintily crossed over the other, wrote in a leather-bound journal. Without looking up, he closed the book, and rose to pull out my chair. I found him unusually handsome today. He wore a forest green tunic over ram’s leather leggings. His wolf pelt was wrapped around his shoulders like a scarf. The strange jawbone necklace that usually adorned his neck was missing. Somehow, he seemed to move even more elf-like than usual. Tea was a ballet, and he the star of the show. With quickness and grace he was in his seat, pouring tea.

I thanked him, then stirred a spoonful of honey into the hot reddish-brown tea. I took one of each from the selection of baked goods. I had really missed food.

We chit chatted about the influx of fine Orlesian foods, and clothing. Solas even sipped his tea. Again, everything felt wrong.

“Why did you ask me here,” I interrupted him, not having any idea what he was talking about.

“I thought the ritual would help make you feel at home,” he answered.

“No you didn’t!” I shouted. Everyone in the garden stared. I lowered my voice. “You hate tea. This is far too Orlesian for you. You’re pandering.”

He leaned back, steepling his long, thin elven fingers. “Very good. I was hoping you’d react in such a manner. I don’t mean the yelling part, of course.”

“You were testing me. To see if it was me or a demon who came out of the Fade.”

He nodded. “Yes. I had to make sure, but didn’t want to endanger the real you.”

“Can we take this somewhere else, then?” I asked.

“Gladly,” Solas said, folding his napkin and placing it under his spoon.

I wrapped as many scones and sandwiches as would fit in my napkin, shoved a petit-four into my mouth, set a couple cakes on my saucer, and took my tea with me. As we walked back to the frescoed rotunda, I turned to glance at the elven servant who scurried to clean up the tea table for the next couple of guests.

“Do they serve tea one table at a time in Orlais?” I asked, to no one in particular.

“Only if it’s on a stage,” Solas replied, taking the pastry-filled napkin from my hand.

“Does it bother you to be served by elves?” I asked.

“Does it bother you to be served by humans,” he responded. It was not a question. “Isabeau, I need you to show me how you open the Fade.”

“I can’t open it on purpose,” I said, crumbs flying from my stuffed mouth.

“Of course you can. Zunyla did it to come get you. I helped her learn.” He carried my napkin bundle of baked goods like it was a crystal ball.

“Then, why can’t she show you?” I asked.

“She has. If I were a betting man, I’d bet you do it differently,” Solas said, setting the napkin on my now empty plate.

“Thanks. I’ve only done it the one time, on accident.”

“It saved your life,” he said. “Do you not want to harness the connection you have?”

“No.” He had just plummeted from handsome to droll. I would not be his toy.

“What if it is the key to figuring out what happened to you? Or to getting you back where you feel you belong?” We had made it back to his office. He sat at his desk, steepling his fingers beneath his chin.

He looked smug. I remember seeing that look on his face before. Maybe I was too busy thinking about what Cullen was doing at the precise moment to really listen to Solas. He seemed wise, but also a little self-aggrandizing, in the most elven way possible, especially for someone who was neither a Dalish nor a city elf. I knew he didn’t think I didn’t belong here. He actually remembered me. But, now he entertained my current greatest fear. I didn’t like it. His head was too shiny, and his fingers were too long and bony.

I didn’t sit.

I walked over to stand just an arm’s length before him. If he stood we’d be toe-to-toe, and I’d be staring right at his gorgeous sassy mouth.

“You really think it might hold the key to getting me back to the Inquisition that I left?”

“I think it’s the key to returning everyone’s memories of you, at the very least.”

“I don’t think I’m ready to go back there, Solas.”

“How will you know when you are ready?”

“I . . . I don’t know. I want to say, ‘when I’m not afraid any longer.’ But, I don’t know if that fear will ever really go away. I didn’t take to the Fade as you did.”

“Poppyco*ck,” Solas exclaimed. “It took me years to master my exploration of the Fade. In the beginning I was as haunted as I imagine you were.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

“Can you teach me how to stop the demons from invading my dreams and memories?”

“Of course I can. I can teach you anything about the Fade that you want.”

“Solas, I have respect for what you practice. I just don’t think I’m ready for that yet. Can I have a little more time?”

“Of course.” He stepped towards me. He smelled of elfroot and lyrium. His skin was flawless. My mother had spent a fortune on Orlesian face creams and even her skin wasn’t as flawless. His skin had a pink tinge under the sunkissed glow. His ovate head reflected all of the candelabras hanging high above from the ceiling of the rookery. “Don’t take too long. Your dreams will get worse. Your sleeping mind will want to go back.”

I nodded, turned on my heel and strode off towards my bedroom. “At least you ended with something motivational,” I shouted over my shoulder.

I was shaking. If I were to hold a leaf of paper it would rattle. I didn’t want to go back to the Fade. I barely slept before I ended up in the Fade, thanks to the accursed anchor. I peaked at the palm of my left hand. Green sparks shot towards me. I curled my fingers into a fist, tucked my hands under my arms, and averted my eyes from everyone in the Great Hall, past the stupid throne, and up to my room. I slept soundly for a few days after first being pulled out of the Fade. But, once we were on the road that changed. I spent most of the night staring at Cullen’s back as he worked and while he slept, which was little. It gave us time for catching up, if that’s what it can be called.

As I reached the top of the steps to my old quarters, I saw her furniture. The four poster Orlesian bed with velvet curtains, the red loveseat, my desk where Cullen and I recreated our first time on his desk - all gone.

Zunyla’s clothes were strewn about instead of mine: flowing silken tunics in jewel tones with Dalish embroidery, rainbow chainmail armor overlaid with dragon scales, braided woven cords with tapestries of ancient wars. Dalish designs were on the stained glass windows instead of the eye of the Inquisition. The fire was only embers. A stack of Solas’ books sat on the coffee table, wrapped up neatly in a red ribbon, with his jawbone necklace attached to the bow. Looked serious to me.

I set down my teacup and scones.

I couldn’t stop myself. I walked around looking for my things. The painting of the Trevelyan estate was not hung crookedly over the dresser. My staff wasn’t leaning against the wall next to my nightstand. I had lost it in the Fade. Cullen had acquired the focusing crystal from Ostwick just for me. My dragon scale and plaidweave coat didn’t hang in the closet.

I sat on the loveseat where Cullen and I would cuddle in front of the fire under a blanket. I wanted his arms around me, to tell me I didn’t need those things to take my life back.

“Excuse me, are you all right?” a quiet voice asked.

I jumped and hollered. “I’m so sorry. I wasn’t snooping.”

“Oh, I didn’t think you were . . . until now.” Zunyla was polite, and non-accusatory. She stood several inches taller than me, had long, wavy, halla white elven hair. She wore it in a thick elaborate braid. Her vallaslin of Mythal was pale pink, almost white. It stood out, a stark contrast to her tan skin, almost the color of burnished copper. She was otherworldly. Her eyes were Orlesian amethyst, the kind found in a ring Vivienne could spot from across the room. Her cheekbones were impossibly chiseled, even for an elf. She was thin and delicate in appearance. I certainly didn’t assume that had any relation to her temperament. She didn’t become Inquisitor by being delicate. I know I certainly didn’t.

“I — I — I had a discussion with Solas and stormed off. I was so upset I didn’t even think. I just wound up here. Then, I got more upset because it’s not my room anymore, and that’s when you came in.” I rubbed at my eyes with the backs of my hands, then my fingers, and then my knuckles.

“Discussions with Solas upset me too,” she said, taking a seat next to me, handing me a handkerchief. “You cry a lot?” she asked.

“By the way you look at him, he upsets you on a regular basis,” I laughed, trying to lighten the mood. “And, yes. Lately, I cry a whole lot.”

“At least twice a day, he makes me want to strangle him. Sometimes, I storm off at the end instead.” She laughed too.

“Are you . . . involved?” I asked.

“No?” she asked, in return. “We’ve kissed a few times. I can’t imagine someone more
romantic than Solas. He doesn’t even have to try. He’s just so smooth all the time. I don’t know how he does it. It makes me want to strangle him. And hump him.” She shrugged at me. “You and the Commander?” she asked, her voice going all high and squeaky at the end.

“No?” I laughed, again. “I mean, we were . . . before.”

“It’s not the same between you now?”

“He doesn’t remember anything about us. All he has are a few scattered visions from the Fade. Nothing there can be trusted, as you probably learned, the hard way.” I fidgeted with a brass candlestick holder on the coffee table, that could double as a weapon. “Thank you for coming to rescue me, by the way. I’m ashamed it took so long for me to say that. I truly appreciate what you did for me.”

“You’re welcome. But, you’re wrong. He may not remember the details of what happened, but he loves you as if he did. When I first heard about you I could hear it in his voice. He was frantic to get to you. He would have found a way into the Fade himself if it would have been necessary. Probably would have fired himself out of his trebuchet towards that hole in the sky.” She patted my knee, leaving her hand rest there lightly, giving a couple of squeezes.

“I just don’t want to take up a space in his life that I don’t deserve. I thought maybe he might have realized his feelings for— for someone else. He’s such a compassionate man, I couldn’t keep him from what makes him happy.” My eyes began tearing up again. I dabbed at them with her handkerchief.

Zunyla grabbed me by the knees and turned me to face her. She was both serious and amiable. “Beau, can I call you Beau? Listen here. That man loves you. He’s been a wreck ever since I met him. He’s hated me, ignored me, berated me, and praised me. Somehow, he’s been comparing me to you since this whole thing started. His entire demeanor changed the moment we decided to go to the Fade. He’s been attentive, encouraging, focused. He’s a different person than he was when we first got to Skyhold.”

“I guess I’ll see that in time. All I see now is how busy he is, and how little time he probably has to spare for me.”

She rubbed my knee again. “I get it. ‘Oh, he’s so important. There’s no way he has time for little ol’ me.’ I felt that way when I first got here. But, Solas is different with me than he is in public. When he trails his fingers down my face . . . I melt. Only he and I exist and the hole in the sky was never there in the first place.” She looked wistfully at the pile of books, walking over to it.

Zunyla fingered the necklace. As she untied the ribbon, it slid free. “Huh.”

“Is it an unexpected gift?” I asked.

“Yeah, you can say that.” She came back to sit next to me, turning the ancient piece of bone in her hands. “What do you think it means?”

“Before today, I have never seen him without it. I think it means he’s sorry he upset you, and he probably wants to talk. And, I can guarantee that he wants to see you wearing it.” I was truly happy for her. I knew the gift was especially sentimental.

“Do you think he . . .” Zunyla trailed off.

“Cares for you?” I watched her face as her eyes fluttered closed. She held the necklace tight in her hand, pressing it to her chest. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you. I’ve never seen him look at anyone that way, Zunyla.”

“You can call me Zuny,” she said, looking at me. When she smiled, I knew exactly how she felt. I had felt that way before, probably also in this very same room. “How did you know you were in love?

“Generally, I think once you start asking yourself that question is a pretty good indicator.”

“No, how did you know, with Cullen?”

“It feels like I loved him the moment I first saw him, right before I closed my first rift. But, I guess I was certain it was love when I found out he rescued me from the avalanche at Haven. He’s come for me twice now, when everyone else had written me off as dead. I owe him my life. Everything I am today, is because he was there for me on the other side of the Conclave.” I glanced up at her, then down at the ancient piece of bone she turned in her hands. “So, I guess it really isn’t simple to define. It’s a whole bunch of stuff together. Real love is complicated, especially if they love you in return.”

“How do you know your love is returned?”

“Cullen said it first. I had been thinking it for months. But, he’s the brave one. Once he worked up the nerve to tell me, I knew it was real, that my feelings were truly reciprocated. But, in truth, I already knew when I saw his face after Haven.”

“And now?” she asked, tears forming in the corners of her eyes.

“I haven’t really had the chance to spend any time with Cullen, not one-on-one.”

Her eyes widened, and her chin co*cked forward. “You haven’t even kissed yet? I f*cking thought you loved him?”

Those stupid f*cking tears returned. I was so tired of crying. “He doesn’t even know me! I can’t just go around kissing perfect strangers.”

Zunyla grabbed my cheeks, and planted a kiss on my mouth, quickly, without fanfare. “He’s not a stranger. And, now neither are we. Go.” She pointed to the stairwell.

I turned back to look at her, holding the handrail on the way down. “Thanks. It feels good to have a friend here, again. Enjoy my bedroom,” I winked.

***

Cullen was in the courtyard reviewing troop assignments. His perfectly coiffed hair was windblown and tousled. I took a seat half-way down the stairs leading from the Great Hall, watching. A line of petty officers queued in front of a podium. He scrawled in a journal as each officer presented their report. Once in a while they would hand him a clipboard. He’d read the form diligently, then sign. He stopped for a quick rub of the back of his neck before running his fingers through his hair.

I wanted to sneak up behind him, wrap my arms around his waist, and just hold him. Maybe he would dismiss the rest of the line, turn to face me, and pull me in for a kiss. That’s what he would have done before. My heart sank. Zunyla may be correct. But, I was too much of a coward to go find out. I couldn’t find the resolve to go talk to him again, to interrupt his work. I knew how important supplies and troops were to the Inquisition. Now that I didn’t have a job, everyone felt more important than me.

“He’s thinking about the time at the cabin in Ferelden when you helped him through the lyrium withdrawal. He dreams about making coffee for you, about sitting in front of the fire together. He remembers. Not like I remember though. I wonder why.” Cole had silently joined, sitting on the step behind me.

“Do you know how to find out?” I asked.

“No. But, Solas does,” Cole answered.

“Does he now?”

“He thinks he does.” Cole replied.

“I guess that really is what tea was all about.”

“Solas hates tea.”

“I know.”

“Why don’t you go talk to him?” Cole asked.

“I just talked to Solas. It didn’t end well.”

“Not Solas.”

I didn’t realize until that moment why I had been avoiding Cullen. “I’m afraid he won’t want me any longer.”

Cole put his arms around me, pinning my arms to my sides in a tight hug. “That’s impossible.” He kissed me on the apple of my cheek.

A few tears escaped. Why couldn’t I stop crying?

“You’re sad. Things are different. Change is hard.”

I reached around Cole’s arms to wipe the tears from my cheeks. “Thanks, Cole. I’m glad you’re here.” In an instant Cole was gone, and my tears had stopped. I felt the memory of the moment start to slide away. The boy couldn’t help it yet, trying to take the memory of himself with him when he left. I grabbed at it, clutching it to my mind and my heart.

My feet began carrying me down the steps. As I reached the last few, Cullen turned to look at me. His amber eyes met mine, and a smile spread across his face. He held out his hands. I put mine in his. And, I swear a gust of wind blew my hair wildly to stream behind me.

Chapter 8: Demons, But Our Own

Chapter Text

Chapter 8: Demons, But Our Own

Isabeau

Cullen rubbed the back of his neck, as the tips of his ears reddened. “Where have you been? I should have had you rescue me an hour ago. That was mind numbing. I need to find someone else to do that.”

The sound of his voice was enough to make me feel like nothing between us had changed. “Well, I’ve been sitting on those steps for what feels like an hour. I wish you would have told me.”

He blushed, and smirked, reaching for me. “Were you watching me work?”

When his hand clasped mine, I felt safe. His thumb rubbed the back of my hand.

“I was waiting for you to finish up.” I felt like there was a nug in my stomach, running on one of those little wheels at top speed. I thought I might pass out. I took a deep breath, letting his calm demeanor fuel me. “I was hoping to spend the evening together.”

“Maker, yes please,” he replied.

We stood there, awkwardly holding hands, looking over one another. His breastplate had a mirror finish. I could watch my chin elongate as I tilted my head. His vest was pressed, the ties wrapped neatly around his waist. I reached up, laying a hand on his cheek. His five o’clock shadow was scratchy sand paper. This man could probably grow a beard in a week, but he never went that long without shaving. He sighed, letting his eyes close as I thread my fingers into his thick golden hair. I trailed my fingertips down his neck. He caught my hand, pressing his lips to my knuckles.

Warmth spread through my body. My heart slammed against my chest.

He gathered papers into his journal, and tucked it under his arm.“Come up to my office with me?”

“I’d love to.” I thought I recognized a young man and woman wearing Inquisition uniforms pretending to chat by the healer’s tents. They shot jealous glares over their shoulders at me. I closed my eyes for a moment, letting Cullen guide me towards the tower stairs leading to his office. I did recognize them! Jim and Pam. Their eyes had been on Cullen and I, ever since Jim interrupted our first kiss on the battlements.

It always seemed like a hundred stairs leading up to Cullen’s office. I began lagging behind a little.

“Sorry, I’m walking too fast. You must still be regaining your strength.” He slowed his pace.

“I am really tired. I feel like I don’t have any bones in my body!” I shrieked a little. Those tears I kept stuffing back into the bottle started to leak again.

He stopped, tugging on my hand to spin me to face him. “What’s wrong?” he asked, alarmed.

“I just really missed you. I missed you, and I’ve hardly slept, and my room is gone, and my things are gone, and I feel like you’re gone too. And, I just can’t really handle it all. And, I don’t know what to do with myself or any of this crap I’m feeling. I just want it all to go away.” I leaned back against the wall of the stairwell, crying silently.

He tugged my hand again. “Come on. Let’s get inside.”

Closing the door to his office behind us, he tossed the journal onto the desk. It slid; papers skittered everywhere. He removed his breastplate, sending it the direction of the journal. More papers. Cullen pulled me into his embrace. His vest was both a little itchy and soft against my face. He tucked my head under his chin, as he always did.

I cried.

Cullen and I stood there for what seemed like eons. He held me to his chest, gently swaying from side to side as I cried more. Then, I cried harder. How could I possibly feel like I simultaneously had everything and nothing? As if one side of my world was being rebuilt, while the other side crumbled. Yet, I continued watching the far side fall while I slathered mortar on the wall in front of me, and set down another stone. Maybe it won’t catch up. I shrugged.

As long as I have had Cullen in my life, I have felt like I can do anything. His inner strength has held him up through as much as I’ve seen anyone live through. It radiates from him. That’s why people are so drawn to him. That and his beautiful face, handcrafted by the Maker to be the most attractive man in the world. Few people I know would disagree with me. Before Cullen and I got together, Dorian and I would watch him from afar. I wiped actual drool from the corner of his moustache one day, while we watched Cullen spar with new recruits. That was back at Haven still.

Haven. Everything came rushing back to me: Corypheus’ attack on the Conclave; the loss of my father, and brothers: Jameson, Jordan, and the twins, Mikey and Lanston; waking up shackled in that dungeon; seeing Cullen for the first time fighting demons beneath the first rift I closed. How apropos.

The rifts and Cullen came into my life at the very same moment. He was bathed in that sickly green light, the hope amidst the chaos. I marched out of Haven after the avalanche, waking up in Cullen’s arms. I remember seeing him smile at me in ‘that way’ for the very first time, without the expression of shock at being attracted to ‘that mage.’ He laid me down on a cot, smoothed the hair out of my face, kissed me on the forehead warmly, his lips lingering before calling for Mother Giselle to examine me for injuries.

I cried hardest thinking about how he didn't remember any of that, sobbing in heaving gasps trying to breathe. He held me tighter, swaying slowly to comfort me. My body wanted to laugh a little bit, thinking it was what my mother would have done. The wracking sadness began to subside as I thought about her and my sister, Elsbie, who I hadn’t seen since before this madness all began.

“I need to write to my mother,” I whispered, wiping my nose with my sleeve.

He handed me a handkerchief. “Of course. Would you like a piece of parchment?” he asked.

“No, not now. Just soon. I keep thinking about them, my family.”

“Lady Trevelyan should receive Josephine’s missive today,” Cullen said, making the calculations with a slightly absent look on his face.

I silently called it his ‘work face.’ Nothing else rattled around in his head while he was working. I knew it quieted the song of the lyrium.

Two warm, strong hands cupped my face. Thumbs wiped away my tears, drying my cheeks. “I cannot quell the pain of losing your father and brothers in the Conclave. But, I am here for you. Isabeau, I haven't stopped thinking about you, worrying about you since . . . that first time I saw you in the Fade. All I have wanted ever since is to make sure you're taken care of, that you're safe. To try to ensure that you're not surrounded by monsters." With a hitch in his voice, holding back tears of his own he tilted my face up to his. "I love you. I cannot lose you again.”

My chest had no choice. It exploded. My heart had grown so large, so quickly in that moment, it had come bursting through my healing ribs. The tears came back, overflowing the slipshod dam that I had built in the last thirty seconds. I shut my eyes. More tears fell. He hugged me to his chest, pressing his lips to the crown of my head.

He whispered, sotto voce against my hair. His chose his words carefully, making sure they held the proper weight. “No, I don’t remember everything about what happened with us before. Maybe I’ll start to remember if we spend more time together, do some of the things we used to do." His words flowed quickly now, from somewhere deep inside his huge heart. He stumbled over a word now and again, without acknowledging the mistake. He just needed to get it out before his resolve broke. "If not, I suppose I’ll just have to fall more in love with you all over again. I didn't fall for you when I saw you back in the Fade. I already knew it. As if you had been a part of me all along, something I had been missing, not someone I was just meeting."

I knew this man, regardless of how long he had known me. He hadn’t changed, not a bit. He was still my Cullen, the man who had literally saved my life. I don’t know how or why the Maker brought us together, but I would not waste another moment without him.

The erratic breathing steadied. I sniffled and blew my nose again, shoving the square of fabric back in my pocket. I tried drying my eyes on my already wet hands, and dabbed my nose with the back of my hand one more time before mustering the courage to meet his golden gaze. “I love you, Cullen. I feel as if I've loved you before I even met you. I feel like you were given to me by Holy Andraste to make sense out of my life because I can’t do it on my own anymore. I don’t know how. I feel so lost and broken. Even standing here before you, happy to be in love. I just don’t feel like me. I’m afraid, all the time, that something bad is going to happen again. Because every time I’m happy, something else shatters.”

He shook me gently. I had started to stare off into the distance. It was almost as if he had begun to disappear into that eerie green fog.

“I’m not going anywhere, Isabeau. I’m here, with you. We’re back at Skyhold together, and I’m never letting you out of my sight again. I can’t bear to be away from you, honestly. All I can do is think about you. I don’t even trust myself to have written down anything correctly in the log today. If you would like to . . . I would love if you would stay here with me.” He held his breath for a long moment, staunching the tears before they fell. “Please? I had the hole in the ceiling fixed. And, I’m going to have a spiral staircase installed. I know how hard it is to climb a ladder with broken ribs.”

“Of course,” I said, voicelessly, again trying not to cry. “Thank you.”

Cullen wrapped his arms around me to pull me against his chest again. All I have wanted to do since he came to the Fade for me, was kiss him. It had been weeks now. I felt exposed, as if I was baring myself to everyone else in an attempt to get him to notice how bad I wanted him. This world confounded me at every opportunity, but being with Cullen seemed to straighten it all out.

I reached up through his embrace, threading my arms over his shoulders, burying my fingers in the hair on the back of his head so that it ran the wrong direction. Instinctively, he lowered his lips to mine as if they had never been apart. His arms wrapped around my back, pressing us together. The warmth of his body seeped through the layers he wore in the cold of the Frostbacks. I wanted to feel his skin under my hands, the soft bristle of his golden chest hairs on my face as I trailed my lips down the taut ridges of his abdomen. My body melted, melding to his. We were still wearing all our clothes, but where he stopped and I began I did not know nor care to find.

I crushed my chest to his, invading his mouth with my tongue. He moaned, clutching at my back. His hands held me to him as they slid down the curves of my waist, over my hips, under my bottom to scoop me off the floor. I wrapped my legs around his hips as he turned, pressing me to the door, flicking the latch to lock it. My hair stuck to the tears still on my cheeks. I wiped at it furiously, taking a handful of his hair after clearing mine. That moan returned, more intensely. I pulled his head back so that he could see me, and gave him ‘the look.’

I could give him ‘the look’ from anywhere in a room. Without exception, he’d sense it, catching my eyes within moments, because if we were in the same room we never truly took our eyes from one another. We both knew it was time to make up a hurried excuse to get out of a conversation we would rather have not been involved with in the first place. Often we were in the Great Hall, which meant we couldn’t exactly sneak out without being seen entering my quarters. After a few weeks of sneaking out to his quarters, we came to an agreement that we didn’t care who saw us leaving the party together. One day, we just looked at my door and left through it.

I felt like I was standing on a cliff next to a waterfall. One deep breath, and we both decided to jump without saying a word. He was going to take a chance on me, some random woman he dreamt about before saving her bodily from the Fade. That niggling voice that told me I didn’t deserve him shut the f*ck up as he stuck his tongue down her throat.

Without breaking the kiss, he walked over to his desk, setting me down on top of it. Next, he would sweep away its contents with his arm, knocking over that bottle of Thedas in the corner. It would break upon hitting the floor. We’d ignore it until the next morning. Then, I had a moment when I thought the green fog would creep in. Cullen’s eyes would glow with it, and he’d disappear into a desire demon I would have to kill.

“Isabeau, darling?” Cullen stared at me, his brows knit in concern. He held me at arms length, shaking me gently.

“What?”

His eyes searched mine. He had begun to panic. “You went somewhere else for a moment there.”

My brain felt heavy, and loud. “I was in the Fade. I was there. And there was a desire demon in your place. I killed her, when only a breath ago she was you. I was there. I can hear it still calling to me now. It’s so loud.” I grabbed my head trying to clear the image of the demon from Cullen's face.

His walls crumbled then. He embraced me, squeezing me to him as hard as he could. “Don’t go there, please, don’t go back. If it’s calling you, block it out. Stay with me.” I could feel him tap into dormant magic, something he had put away for good a long time ago. A barrier washed over us both. It was warming, yet cool to the touch, a perfect balance of energies.

I had wondered if Templar magic was somehow innate, just like with mages. He had called it forth without lyrium, and without intent. It merely responded to his whim. He clutched my sweater in his hands, holding me tightly, surrounding us both in a magical shield, safe from all the demons, but our own.

His grip subsided after a few moments. I kissed his cheek. He kissed my lips. “I love you.”

“I know you do. I knew before you said it.” I searched his eyes. He was nervous, yet confident. “You shielded me.”

He looked at the glittering pink and blue dome of light surrounding us. “No, you did that.”

I shook my head. “I can do that, sure. But, I didn’t do that. You did.”

His brows knit in concern. “I did do that.”

“I’ve seen you do it before, without the lyrium, here in Skyhold.” I told him.

“When?” he asked, rather excitedly.

I flushed, thinking about it. “We had just made love up in my bed for the first time. Afterwards, I guess I kind of dared you to do it. I shocked you. You nullified my magic. I shocked you again, and you raised a barrier.”

“I have the faintest memory of burgundy velvet curtains,” he said with his eyes closed.

“Yeah.” I ran a thumb from the smooth apple of his cheek down to the scratchy stubble of his jaw.

He looked at me again, with something like veneration on his face. “You’ve taught me how to use magic?”

“I think so," I shrugged. "I also think the magic has always been inside of you, it’s just been quiet. I’ve felt that way about most of the Templars I’ve been friends with, actually.”

“I can protect you?” he asked, looking at the barrier around us.

I took his hands in mine. “Cullen, you have always been able to protect me. You’re twice as good as any swordsman I’ve ever seen. And, you came to the Fade for me.”

“This is different,” he said, his tone serious.

“Yes, this is different,” I agreed.

“I suppose you already know of my history . . . with mages,” he began. “When I first started dreaming about you, I didn’t know you were a mage. And when I realized it weeks later, I was angry at myself. I thought, I had some strange kinky fantasy based on my greatest fear.”

I smiled at him, trying not to laugh. I thought our relationship was at least a little bit of that in the beginning, but he was too pensive to interrupt with humour at this point. Not once, had I felt that Cullen was afraid of me.

“As the dreams continued, I knew you needed help.” He looked up at me. “I knew you needed my help, that you were somehow calling to me. You told me your name, you already knew mine. You were so scared.” He swallowed a lump in his throat. “I was afraid that if I didn’t get to you in time, that I would never forgive myself. I didn’t even know who you were.”

“That really happened, Cullen. It may have been a dream for you, but it was real for me. I saw you in the Fade once, when it wasn’t a memory. Every other time I had seen you was a memory that went so wrong in the end. But, this was different. When I saw you, you appeared to be looking for someone, for me. I told you where I was. You didn’t seem to know me. That really happened.” I touched his cheek.

He put his hand on mine. “You are a powerful mage, aren’t you? You found me in the Fade. What are the chances?”

“I think you found me that day.” I couldn't keep myself from touching him either. I thread my fingers into his hair again.

He looked at me with love in his eyes. “Perhaps we found each other that day, for the second time? I have to admit to a thought lately, that frightens me. Isabeau. I’d do anything for you, foolishly, I might add. I don’t really do anything foolishly. But, no matter the odds, I would come for you.”

“I know you would. I’d do foolish things for you too.”

Amber eyes bore into mine. He reached for my hips, pulling me towards him. I wrapped my legs around him once again. His hands delved beneath the hem of my sweater, palms sliding over my bare skin. I flung the fur from his shoulders, pushed the vest down his arms, letting the gold corded belt fall with it. His shirt was neatly tucked into his waistband. With a deftness, I tugged it free sliding my fingers up the valleys of his abdomen, over his rounded pectorals, through the bristley chest hair to whisk his shirt over his head.

I put my lips to his collarbone, sliding them up his neck to take his earlobe between my teeth. He pulled my sweater over my head, pulling my long hair through before tossing it to the floor with his. First, he kissed my mouth, then feathered his lips across my jaw, down my neck, before dipping between my breasts. He took one in each hand, rubbing his cheeks on the tender skin. With a flick of his tongue he took one nipple into his mouth, kissing it, then switching to the other.

It wasn't like him to get to business so quickly. I like to think it was because he wanted to take his time with me, to savor me. While that may be true, I think it was largely because the chastity drilled into him by the Templar Order constantly harassed him subconsciously. During all of our time apart, I think the Templar's voice had finally been silenced.

I took two handfuls of hair, rubbing my nose on the top of his head. “I want you inside of me,” I told him, candidly.

He pulled away, eyeing me hungrily. He walked over to the other two doors with purpose, flicking the locks so we wouldn’t be disturbed. It was broad daylight. Neither of us cared. He stood next to that damn ladder to his loft. It was the longest climb in history to get up that ladder when all I wanted to do was f*ck him on this desk. While sturdy, it was tailbone bruising.

“After you,” he said.

Bare-breasted, I leapt off the table and climbed the ladder, slowly trying not to pull at my ribs, to where he slept. He waited until I was finished before climbing up after me. At the top, I kicked off my boots. He stood behind me, straining for breath.

“You’re the most beautiful sight I have ever seen,” he said, sliding a hand around my waist. Gooseflesh prickled as I felt his fingertips sail across my skin. Flames ignited in the meandering paths he drew across my back.

It had been too long. I must have him. “The feeling is wholly mutual, I promise you.” I hooked a finger in his waistband, pulling him over to the bed, asking him to sit. I knelt, removing his boots, setting them next to the nightstand where he kept them.

With a hand on each knee, I slithered up towards him, pushing him over to lay flat on the bed. I knelt to either side, straddling him while tying back my hair. He grasped my hips, sliding his fingertips into my waistband.

I bent over to kiss him. Our hips swayed as our mouths danced. I rubbed myself against him wantonly. I could feel his co*ck throb through both layers of our pants. I sat up, planting my hands on his chest. Our eyes locked. I continued tempting him with what I could only hope were seductive pelvic gyrations. His hands grasped my hips, following me. The mating ritual had apparently worked. He couldn't take his eyes from my hips. Did he know that I was equally as captivated?

I could no longer wait to give him what he wanted. I stood, sliding my hands into my waistband to push my pants down to my ankles, kicking them to the side. Setting one foot up on the bed next to his knee, I exposed my center to him. He licked his lips. I slipped my middle finger between my nether lips, into the warm wetness, circling my cl*t for him to see. I added a finger, dipping them both inside of me, then back up to circle my cl*t again and again.

I withdrew my hand, bent over, and pulled his breeches off. He reached down pumping his co*ck slowly as his eyes raked over my nakedness. I knelt between his legs, taking his haft in my hand. Running the tip of my tongue from base to tip, I circled the head, and took him into my mouth. He groaned, leaning up on his elbows to watch me. I caught his eyes, holding his gaze. Again, I circled the tip with my wet tongue before taking his length into my mouth.

Limply, he fell back down to the bed. I pumped his shaft with my hand, following with my mouth, down and up until his body began to tense. White-knuckled he clutched at the bed covers, panting, mouth agape. I cupped the soft skin of his sack in my other hand, rolling his balls gently between my fingers, grazing the skin underneath with a finger tip. A violent shudder ran through him as his body clenched.

“One more move, and I’m warning you, I might not be able to contain myself,” he said, hastily.

I dropped what I was doing, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand as I stood.

He had the back of one hand resting on his forehead, gritting his teeth. "You're very good at that."

I straddled his chest, leaning over to kiss the palm of his hand. He cupped the back of my head, kissing me in return. I ran my tongue over his, across the roof of his mouth, tracing his lips. His tongue breached my lips in return. His beard was scratchy on my face, as he dove into me. His lips worshipped me. I needed them between my legs.

Eventually, with great remorse, I broke the kiss then moved up to straddle his shoulders. I tucked his shoulders under my knees to sit on his chest. He dove in eagerly. He buried his tongue between my nether lips, lapping at the honeyed folds. Finding my swollen bud, he nipped at it with his teeth, then suckled soothingly. I clutched at my hair, piling it on top of my head, before letting it fall down my back. His tongue flicked, and laved, and delved deeper still as my body rocked over his face. I began to climb towards the peak of pleasure as he insisted I go nearer. My body vibrated at his touch, begging him to send me hurtling over the edge.

His palms were firmly planted on my back, rooting me to him. Tremors wracked my body as he flicked his tongue quickly across my cl*tor*s. I pressed my hands into the wall, my arms stretched high above me. The prickle of his stubble dug into my thighs as I trapped his head between them. As my entire body clenched, frozen with him between my legs, his tongue continued its ministrations. I felt my body release. He lapped as the euphoria washed through me, gushing into his mouth. I had never felt anything like it before.

Just when I thought the climax would release, another wave hit. Lapping my cl*t, he slid one long finger inside of me, then another. Curling them, he rubbed against a spot within me, and I hurtled skywards again. His pace quickened as I clenched his head between my thighs again. I called my exquisite pleasure into the afternoon air, unconcerned with any who might hear. My core clenched around his fingers, throbbing until the tremors ceased.

With a hand on each hip he lifted me, asking me to lie down. I collapsed onto the bed as he got to his knees. He wiped his mouth off on a corner of sheet, then kissed me. I had never experienced anything so erotic as to taste the tartness of my womanhood on his lips.

His taut body pressed me into the soft woven blanket underneath. His tall frame covered me completely. I rubbed against him, intertwining my legs with his. He rubbed his hard co*ck against my mound, before placing its head at my entrance. It throbbed there. His mouth stilled as he pulled away from me. I smiled at him, cupping his cheek, biting my lip. I reached for his backside, pulling him in. His hips gently pushed against me as the tip slid inside of me easily. Our eyes stayed locked.

His brows raised; his eyes flared. The look. His eyes slid over each curve, down each swath of skin to watch as he entered me and withdrew.

I exhaled slowly as my body accepted his girth. It had been far too long since he had been inside of me. A shiver ran through me, as another org*sm knocked at the door. Part of me wanted to stay there forever in the moments right before climax, both craving that glorious release, and not wanting it to be over.

Taking my mouth, he slowly withdrew. I hitched my legs up over his hips, digging my heels into his meaty buttocks, drawing him back in. Reaching down, I grabbed my ankles to pull them up towards my shoulders, nearly folding myself in half under him so he could sink further into me. He grunted, thrusting into me more forcefully.

“Faster,” I encouraged, worrying his earlobe between my teeth.

I pulled my legs up a little higher. He brushed against that spot inside of me that sent shivers head-to-toe. I let go of one leg, wrapping it around his. The other, I hitched over his arm. He bent his elbows, filling me perfectly, stroking me from within. My body vibrated, absolutely humming as he brought me closer to the edge. He slowed, his length moving within me with purpose. Each stroke elicited greater pleasure. The noises coming from deep within his chest were primal. The cords of muscle in his neck and shoulders stood out as tremors began in his arms.

Just when I thought he was going to finish, his body stilled. He withdrew his hard length. Rolling over to his back, he reached for me, bringing me with him. I straddled him, sitting above him. I rolled my hips, running my dripping wet lips across his shaft. I found the head of his co*ck, rocking my pelvis against it. With a flick of his hips, he sheathed himself to the hilt.

My core clenched around the thick base of his co*ck, as I rode him. My breasts bounced. He brought one to his mouth, taking the nipple with his tongue first, then his teeth.

"Harder," I begged.

He clamped down, pulling gently, then less so. I rose off his co*ck, just tad. Then slid back down. Up just a little farther, then back down to circle the thick base. Inch by inch I f*cked him, until I had reached the tip. I went back down the same way I had come up, inch by inch. From within my body squeezed his co*ck with every stroke. Down, up, squeeze, release. Down, up, down, squeeze, squeeze.

I laid down on his chest to kiss him again. His hands ran a path up and down my back, settling on my buttocks. His hips rolled, his chest heaved. He f*cked me from below, while I f*cked him from above. My body would not wait any longer. I felt the coils within unwind. Every muscle tensed, taking an iron grip on him.

Cullen crushed me in his arms as a guttural moan escaped his chest. I screamed my release into his neck as my body relinquished control. Everything shook almost violently, as I jumped off the cliff with him. He spilled into me with a roar, clutching at my sex slickened body. My hips begged for more before finally falling limp.

The pulse racing through me began to slow. Euphoria crept into the corners of my mind where the green mist tried to hide. He sighed deeply covering us with the blanket, reminding me that we were not in the Fade. There were no monsters wearing his face here. For the moment, at least, I was safe.

I awoke to him trying to clear my hair from his face. He was nestled behind me, the big spoon. My was comfortably fitted in the crook of his body. I reached back, gathering my hair in my hand, twisting it into a rope over my shoulder. "Sorry, it has a mind of its own."

“No, it doesn't bother me. I love your hair." He kissed my shoulder, smoothing the strands with his hand. "You're beautiful."

I rolled to face him. "You're the beautiful one in this relationship."

He shook his head 'no.'

"Cullen, you must know that people find you attractive."

He tugged the blanket back up, tucking it in around his hips. He ran a hand down my cheek, neck, over my shoulder, the crest of my breast, the curves of my waist to my hip, settling on my thigh. “I know you think I’m the attractive one. I have had people fawning over me my entire life. I know that they find me good looking. You have never once fawned over me.” His eyes searched mine.

I scoffed. “I did, plenty. Dorian just fawned more, always outshining me.”

He kissed my forehead. “That’s not what I mean. You never treated me like I deserved special treatment because of it. I've had plenty of women, and men, proposition me, flirt with me. I promise, when we walk past and heads turn, they’re looking at you.”

“You think I don’t know that? I feel all of their beady little eyes boring holes in the back of my head. They hate me.”

He gave me a disapproving look.

“They do hate me. All over again. I’m used to it. It’s nice having less eyes on me now, not being the Inquisitor. Maybe I won’t feel so guilty for being the one to win your heart. Every Orlesian noblewoman sent their daughter to try to win your hand.”

He pulled me into him so that our bodies were pressed together again. “You didn’t win me. You earned me. No one else has ever . . .” His swallowed hard, taking his eyes from mine.

I pressed a kiss to his chest, waiting for the words to show up.

“. . . loved me.”

We wrapped our arms around each other.

“I will always love you, Cullen. Nothing will ever change that.”

"None of those noblewomen will ever be able to compete with you." His mouth captured mine, as he slid inside of me again.

***

Hand-in-hand, Cullen and I walked across the catwalk between the gatehouse and the rotunda. Solas sat, legs crossed at the knee under his desk. He looked up as we entered. A hint of a smile played across his lips.

“You missed dinner,” Solas stated.

Slowly, I turned to face him, biting my tongue. “What of it?” I didn’t want him to bother me about the Fade again. Couldn’t I just eat in peace?

“If you’re hungry you are going the wrong direction. You should head to the kitchen," he nodded.

“Ah, thanks. I guess we’re a little caught up.”

He turned the page of the ancient Tevinter book he was reading. “That’s good. You two have waited too long to resume your relationship. It is better this way.”

“I have you, partially, to thank for that. Thank you, Solas,” Cullen said.

“Have you spoken to Inquisitor Lavellan about it yet? She’s the other partial to thank.” He turned another page.

“No, but I will. I’m grateful. We’re grateful,” he corrected.

“I spoke with her this afternoon. I find her delightful, Solas.” Trying to be sincere with Solas might not get me anywhere, but I found the occasion so rarely happened. While I respected him, and idolized his magical prowess to some extent, I didn’t trust him. He was far too intelligent, good looking, and sly: a dangerous combination in anyone I had ever met.

“I think so, too,” Solas said, closing his book. “Perhaps the four of us could spend some time together. I think she needs more friends. People don’t flock to her the way they did to you. Probably, because she’s an elf and a mage. You only had one of those things working against you. Your nobility counteracted that, almost entirely, for most people.”

I looked up at Cullen. He nodded, smiling. Then, back at Solas. “We’d like that. You deserve to be happy with her, you know. If that’s what you might want.”

He stood. “Shall I go get her? We’ll meet you . . .”

“In the tavern,” Cullen answered. “In half an hour?”

“Yes,” Solas replied, tucking the book into a drawer before leaving out the door we came in.

“That was unexpected,” Cullen said after Solas left.

We turned to the doorway to the right, instead of continuing towards the Great Hall. Down in the kitchen the dishes were being washed by an assembly line of tiny hands. Anyone who worked in the kitchen started by washing dishes. Old Nan took any who volunteered. But, at night she insisted the children wash dishes so everyone who had been working for the past fourteen hours could go eat dinner. One washed, one rinsed, one dried, one stacked, and one put away. They were careful and diligent, chatting quietly amongst themselves. A cauldron steamed over the fireplace.

“Get them a tray. Fill it with a pitcher of stew, a plate of cheese, a loaf of bread, and a bunch of grapes,” Old Nan ordered.

“Do you have another loaf to spare. We’ll share with folks at the tavern,” I told her.

“Put four loaves in a basket, Jian. The barkeep will use the leftovers tomorrow. That saves you a trip. Thank the Inquisitor,” Nan said.

Cullen and I looked at each other, befuddled.

The dark haired boy turned to me. “That’s not the Inquisitor.”

“Yes it is, boy,” Nan recorrected him.

“But— ” the boy started.

Cullen patted his shoulder. “It’s a long story, kid. She’s our other Inquisitor.”

“This place gets weirder by the day,” the boy said.

The kids dried their hands and set to work. With a surprisingly orderly approach they carried out Nan’s directions. Old Nan passed a glance at the tray. “Good work. You can each have a quick sweetie while finishing dishes. Then, you can have whatever you like for dessert.”

They clapped their hands, running to the sweetie jar.

I wrapped an arm around the old woman, hugging her briefly. “Thank you, Nanette. You are always so kind to me. I missed you.”

She giggled, quickly cutting it off lest the children get any ideas about her light-heartedness. “I missed you too, dearie. You are the boss, afterall. Gotta keep the boss well fed. Takes a lot of energy to be in charge of so many.” She dried her hands on her apron. “Where were you gone to for so long, anyway? You’ve never been gone that long before. And, to leave this poor man here to pine away worried about you. I’ve never seen anyone so twisted up before.” She gave Cullen’s hand a squeeze.

He leaned over, giving her a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you for all the late night trays. It was nice to have someone thinking about me.”

Gently, I grabbed the old cook’s shoulder. “Nannette, are you saying you know who I am?”

“What kind of question is that, Lady Trevelyan? You’re the only soul brave enough to stick their nose in this kitchen daily. I obviously noticed when you were gone for, what was it, nearly six months?”

“Do you know where I went?” I asked her.

“You said you were on your way to investigate a suspicious elven temple.” She pinched my arm. “Oof, you’re too skinny. You take a loaf for yourself, you hear me. Put some meat back on your bones so the man isn’t afraid he’s going to break you.”

Cullen’s jaw hit the floor as his face flushed.

“I wasn’t born an old woman,” Nan clucked, tapping his chin to close his mouth, and whispered in his ear.

He ducked, kissing her on top of her head with a nod. The smile that broke out across his face then was the biggest I had seen since we had returned to Skyhold.

Cullen took her hand. “Nanette, I’d like to have you come to the War Room tomorrow, to speak with the advisors. What would be a good time to call on you?”

“After breakfast, would be acceptable, son, thank you.” She balled up her tiny, wrinkly hands into joyous fists, shaking them in air. “I get to meet Sister Nightingale! Oh, what a day.”

The woman had worked here since day one. I don’t remember her in Haven, and I had no idea where she came from. Suddenly, I wanted to. I wanted to know where she was born, and when she started cooking. The stories she had to tell would certainly help take my mind off of the Fade. Another day, I thought.

Cullen carried the jug of stew. I had a basket of bread, cheese, and fruit on one arm, and him on my other.

“What did she whisper in your ear?” I was too curious not to ask.

He stopped walking to look at me, quietly making notes of all the details he was afraid of forgetting.

A heartwarming smile broke out across my whole body. “What?”

His lips came down on mine gently, successfully avoiding the question. Then, we continued on towards the tavern.

Inside the Herald’s Rest, whose name I was quite fond of, the atmosphere was surprisingly calm. Maryden was playing softly at a table with Cole, Sera, and Varric. Sera and Cole both looked at the bard wistfully. Varric flagged us down, leaping up from the table to greet us too.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t ‘Our Other Inquisitor’ and Curly? Didn’t think I’d see the likes of you two in here tonight.” Varric shook Cullen’s hand.

“Varric, I’m long overdue for that drink you owe me,” Cullen jibed.

“No such thing,” Varric told him. “Any debt paid is a drink owed.” He flagged down the waitress, a young woman, who couldn’t take her eyes from Cullen, whom I did not recognize. “We’ll have a pitcher of the Brown I brought from Kirkwall. Only the finest for your reunion celebration.”

“Varric, we drank that nug piss after Bianca . . .”

He stared at me blankly. We hadn’t drank it. Not here.

“What happened to Bianca?” he asked, white as a sheet, hugging the crossbow to his chest.

“She went home,” I answered.

“To the Maker?” Varric’s color returned to his face.

“No, to Orzammar.”

“sh*t. You met Bianca in the other Inquisition? What happened?” He took the basket of bread from my arm, set it in the middle of the table, and pulled out my chair. Cullen took the chair to my left.

“Well, Bianca came to Skyhold because she had information about red lyrium in an old thaig in Ferelden. She was . . .” I thought for a moment. Entitled seemed too harsh. Obnoxious? Same. “Delightful?” Question mark, shrug.

Varric’s laugh boomed through the tavern. “Darkspawn take me, you did meet Bianca.”

“After she went back home you asked for the Brown. You seemed . . . relieved.” I tore into the end of the bread, grinning as I recalled the celebration that evening. Cullen had been taking shots with Bull and a game of strip Wicked Grace ensued.

“I guess she and I hashed some of it out then. Figured we would next time our paths crossed. I think we were both ready for some closure. I guess I hope she shows up again.”

The dwarven waitress returned with our mugs of Kirkwall’s finest.

Varric called over the Iron Bull and Dorian who were less than subtly making out in Bull’s corner of the pub.

Cullen whispered in my ear. “Did we ever do that in public?”

I guffawed. “No. Please. No. Don’t even ask that question. Would you ever?”

He looked me in the eye and kissed me. My heart fluttered. Butterflies fluttered. Everything fluttered in that moment. Cupping the back of my head in his hand, he tilted my chin up towards his face. I leaned in, laying a hand on his cheek.

Several long flutters later, he pulled away. My heartbeat raced in my ears.

“Ok, we did once.”

The scar of his lip curled into a smirk. “I thought so.”

“You can do that anytime you want,” I told him.

He pinched my chin, kissing me again much more quickly. “I intend to.”

I kissed him again, one more time.

Bull and Dorian rounded the corner of the table to sit across from Cullen and I.

“Looks like someone is trying to be a cuter couple than us, Dorian,” Bull said, pulling out Dorian’s chair.

Dorian seemed to be wearing more straps than I remembered. He reached into the bread basket and tore off a small chunk, which he nibbled like a mouse.

Solas and Zunyla came in the door next. They were a ridiculously attractive couple. “Dorian, if someone is trying to outdo you, they just walked in.”

He waved dismissively. “They don’t count. They’re elves. Two elves are going to be more attractive than any other— save for maybe you and the Commander now.”

Dorian held up his bread to the side of his mouth. “Also, they’re not a couple,” he mouthed, loudly, as they approached.

“Are these seats taken?” Solas asked, ignoring the comments he had surely heard.

“We were saving them for the two of you,” Cullen told him, sliding drinks in front of them.

Solas looked at him side-eyed. Cullen slid the drink back to the middle of the table. The waitress delivered a glass of red wine to Solas’ outstretched hand without missing a beat. Zunyla took a swig of her beer.

“What’s this nug piss?” Zunyla asked, gulping down the contents of her mouth.

“Kirkwall’s finest,” I told her.

“Oh, the Brown. We’re celebrating. Good to know.”

Josephine and Blackwall came through the door on the elves’ heels. Blackwall carried a platter of petit fours, setting it down in front of me.

“Josie insists you get first pick,” he said.

“Oh, thank you.” I picked a small, cube shaped cake with pink flowers on a red gingham table cloth. “They look delicious.” I took a napkin, setting my cake on it next to my drink.

“Take several,” Josie said, nudging my shoulder with the back of her hand. Josephine took a seat next to Maryden. They nodded at each other. Maryden took a lime green cake. Blackwall got drinks for him and Josie.

“Cassandra and Vivienne send their regrets. It was a very long evening and they both vowed to be up before dawn to go at it again. I don’t know what ‘it’ is exactly, except that there was a lot of foul language, and smoke.”

Everyone laughed. It felt so good to hear everyone laugh, to know that despite everything that had happened to me, and here at Skyhold, we could all still find a night to relax together.

Leaning over to gossip with Dorian was second nature, but now that the table was so full it felt obvious and rude. This is why I always sat across from Cullen. He had far more to discuss with Bull anyhow. And, that would put me next to Zunyla. I bent over to whisper in Cullen’s ear, letting my lips softly graze his earlobe.

“I need to go gossip with Dorian before my lips fall off, okay.”

His eyes drifted closed before snapping back open. “Well, we can’t have that. I need those lips.”

I kissed his earlobe. As I stood up I ran my hand across his shoulders. I went around the head of the table to Bull’s shoulder. “Go rescue Cullen from Solas,” I said, tapping him on the shoulder.

“No problem, Boss. Wait, are you the boss, also?” Bull said, pushing the chair in for me.

“Nope, not boss. Just Beau.” I leaned over to Dorian. “Don’t you think Josie and Blackwall get cutest couple. They won’t touch in public, but he carried her cakes over for her. That’s adorable.”

“Uch,” Dorian said. “You’re right. They win. Sorry, Zuny.”

“No, I agree. Considering Solas and I aren’t a couple, we can’t be included, unfortunately.” Zunyla wore a periwinkle blue tunic with silver elven embroidery. It was delicate work, the kind you only saw on the Dalish.

“Did you make it yourself?” I asked. “May I?”

“I did not, but sure, go ahead.”

I had wanted to finger the hem of her sleeve since I saw it. The silk was so soft I could hardly even feel where the embroidery began and the sleeve ended. “It’s absolutely stunning,” I told her. “My mother would try to buy it off of you.”

“I’d just give it to her,” she laughed.

“Oh, well she’d insist on paying anyway, even if it insulted you. That’s her way.”

“Well, I’ll take her money should I ever meet her then,” Zunyla said. “But, if you’re interested, I have a dozen. Why don’t you come by tomorrow and pick one out. But, I have to warn you, the Orlesians are starting to wear them too.”

“Oh, that doesn’t surprise me. The Orlesians have surprisingly good taste when they’re not in Val Royeaux.” I looked around. Good. No Orlesians.

Varric waited at the door for Hawke and Fenris to arrive.

Before we had first accidentally ventured into the Fade, Hawke had explained that her fiancé had been forcefully tattooed with red lyrium at the hand of his former Tevinter slave master. He had been traveling with the Hero of Ferelden searching for a way to remove them, and to help her find a cure for the Calling while Alistair was here, in Skyhold. What a small world Thedas had become.

When they arrived, I was immediately drawn to Fenris’ tattoos. The glow of the red lyrium enveloped me. I had heard the song before, in the Fade. I could hear it now.

A pair of olive green eyes met mine. “They’ve calmed down quite a bit since you two have returned,” Fenris said to me, holding Hawke’s hand. “I can’t hear the Calling at all any longer.”

But, I could.

“And the light has almost all but faded,” Hawke added, looking up at him.

Since Fenris’ arrival Vivienne, Dagna, and Cassandra had added ‘red lyrium tattoo removal’ to the top of their ‘To Do’ lists.

I tried to push the song away from the corners of my mind.

Hawke looked just like I thought I looked: far too thin, and ready for a demon to pop out of Fenris’ face at any moment. They took their seats at the end of the table by Sera and Blackwall. I tried not to stare. Fenris’ tattoos glowed brightly blue. The red wanted to join, but had been silenced. It was currently trying to find a way to sing to him again.

Instead, it sang to me.

Josephine stood, clanking the cake tongs on her mug of Brown. The entire tavern fell silent; even the Fade was silenced in that moment.

“I’d like to thank you all for coming this evening. We’re celebrating the successful return of Hawke and our other Inquisitor, Isabeau Trevelyan, from the Fade. Inquisitor Lavellan and Commander Rutherford lead the teams to bring them back to us. While the harrowing ordeal is over, we must now sort out some details before making our next push towards defeating Corypheus. I want everyone in Skyhold to get some down time. That’s an order. Please.” Josie, ever the most polite and genuine politician I had met. “A toast!”

“A toast!” replied the tavern.

Josephine raised her drink. “To the Inquisitors.”

“To the Inquisitors,” came the reply.

She passed out cake, making sure everyone had at least been offered a petit four before taking one for herself. She gave Cole and Sera seconds. They both thanked her, shoveling in the first.

I wanted to see how Hawke was doing. I approached her, as if my body was walking towards her of it own volition, as if I had no control over myself. My gaze went to Fenris beside her. Once again, the lyrium sang to me, glowing brilliantly red now as the blue faded away.

In fact, everything was red! Red light slowly blanketed the tavern, taking over everything that I could see and hear. It was only red and me now, the crimson lines of the tattoo, a swirl here, a wave there.

The melody was sweet, memorable, familiar. I wanted to absorb it into my being. I knew it would give me great power. I would be able to accomplish the most insurmountable tasks with as little effort as lifting a napkin. I knew I would be able to defeat Corypheus. I stood next to my own dragon, staring down the ancient, evil Tevinter darkspawn magister.

I heard Cullen’s voice invade the song of the red. “Isabeau? Isabeau? Somebody help her!”

I didn’t want to leave the red.

Cullen! Cullen, I’m here. It’s red. Everything is red.

All the fear I had been harboring since escaping the Fade disappeared, as if it had never existed. I knew the Fade as well as I knew myself.

Fear was an illusion created to distract us from our true purpose.

I would strike down Corypheus, consuming his secrets to become the most powerful mage that had ever lived. I would protect mages, protect the Inquisition. I would make sure no one else ever abused the power as he did. I would ensure that Tevinter no longer enslaved people using these tattoos ever again. I would not waste this gift.

“Isabeau! Maker, no!”

Again that voice. Last time I heard it I could put a name to it. Now, the name was on the tip of my tongue. The red light faded until I was in darkness.

***

A familiar green light crept into my blurred vision as I opened my eyes.

I waved my hand in front of my face, opening a fade rift. The green light surrounded me, pulling me into it. Inky green mist cradled me, filled me, before ripping me apart. I thought being stuck in the Fade was one of the most torturous experiences I could have gone through. I had forgotten that going through the Veil itself was worse.

The roar in my head was deafening, consuming. I did not know who or where I was. All I knew was the noise. Blackness overtook me, followed by a blinding chartreuse glow. I tumbled ass over tea kettle through nothingness. There was no up nor down. With every revolution I lost more of my self. Pieces of me were being pulled away by the Fade. I didn’t care enough to stop it.

Chapter 9: Practicing Magic

Chapter Text

Chapter 9: Begin Again

Isabeau

Empty, cold, and alone, I awoke to a searing pain in my right shoulder. I attempted to reach for the knife in my back, but found my wrists shackled together behind me. My arm wrenched in its socket. I screamed out into the darkness. The stone floor bit into my cheekbone as I winced. I smelled the wet dankness of an underground dungeon. My first thought was that I had been captured by Templars. Momentarily, I worried that I had been made Tranquil. Hate and anger bubbled up quickly as I thought about those who imposed the condition of Tranquility, taking away a mage's connection to the Fade, and to their emotions. I knew it hadn’t been cursed upon me, thank Andraste.

The pain in my shoulder bit again. I steeled myself, then sat up on my knees. My ankles were also bound. The rusted irons tore at my flesh. I felt the burn of missing layers of forearm under the cuffs.

My eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness. A very bright crack of light peaked at me from under the door. I surveyed my surroundings. Chains hung from the walls in several places around the room. Thankfully, I had not been hung from them. Whoever had imprisoned me had laid me on the floor instead. Two cells lined the wall to my left. Their rusty doors stood open. I could not see well enough to see if any deceased residents hid in the shadows. But, I could not hear any evidence of other prisoners in the room with me.

"Is anyone there?" I could not be sure if I said it aloud.

I tried to recall something, anything. My head felt heavy and fuzzy. My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. I peeled it away from the dry ceiling, trying to suck spit out of my throat. Attempting to conjure up anything in my memory made me feel like I was wading through waist deep water.

The last thing I remember was travelling from the Free Marches to Haven. My father had made the short journey to Ostwick’s Circle from the Trevelyan Estate to accompany me and my brothers. I remember the boat trip with the boys, and a few other enchanters. We played a lot of Wicked Grace.

The highest ranking Circle and Templar officials had agreed to meet under the tutelage of Divine Justinia to discuss options for compromise. The one thing everyone seemed to agree upon was that the outcome of the conclave was unpredictable.

The outrage from both sides, after the Chantry of Kirkwall was blown to bits by the Grey Warden apostate, had brought leaders together instead of pushing them back to opposite sides of the argument. Finally, they had decided to listen.

I had been looking forward to seeing the Temple of Sacred Ashes in person. It was Andraste's final resting place, after all. But, I felt as if, for some reason, that’s not what I was supposed to be doing at this precise moment. Had bandits attacked us en route? Why was I alone in a dungeon? And why did it feel alarmingly familiar?

***

Supposedly, the Trevelyans had been Circle mages since Ancient Tevinter. All of the men in my immediate family were mages. My four older brothers, as well as my sister and I were mages. Mother had resigned herself to sending us to the Circle at age eight, like the boys. However, I was so insistent upon using my magic at home, I was sent at six. Elsbeth, a year younger than me, was sent the same year at age five, the youngest age of a child to ever enter the Circle at Ostwick. She didn’t practice magic so much as do magic. She could control it, but chose to let it happen. She never walked across a room to pick up a toy when she could manipulate them with her mind. She didn’t speak aloud when she could speak in someone’s head.

By the time Elsbie and I arrived at the Circle, our oldest brother, Jameson, had already taken and passed his Harrowing at age fifteen. Mikey, the next oldest, was an apprentice at thirteen. The twins, Jordan and Lanston, were eleven and still far too mischievous to take their studies seriously. Elsbie got all of the seriousness that us three middle siblings could have used. While my gifts were strong, I lacked the dedication to practice. If I could sneak out to ride a horse, or fight with sparring swords I would. I greatly preferred doing something physical to practicing magic. Many of my books met their demise at the end of a lightning bolt.

Hopefully, that physicality would now work to my advantage. I tried slipping my hands free, getting leverage to break the chain between the shackles, and using my magic to undo the locks. The manacles held fast. They had been checked for weakness and warded before being locked around my wrists and ankles. With a sharp intake of breath, I hoisted myself to my feet to get a better look at my bleak situation.

A pain stabbed me in the ribs as my shoulder screamed, twisting further than it should as I rose. Everything turned white before going dark again. The room swirled. I took a deep breath, steadying myself. My ribs strained. My jaw quivered. I broke out in sweat. Okay, no more deep breaths. I closed my eyes, forcing myself to slow down before I passed out from the pain. Concentrating on taking slower breaths, instead of deeper, I regained my balance.

When I finally opened my eyes, I could make out stone walls, a drain in the center of the room, the two short steps up from the drain level as my eyes adjusted to the dank dungeon. I found a spike sticking out of the wall behind the door, about two meters off the ground. If the door were opened while someone hung there, it would certainly smash them into the wall, probably the intention of the spike’s location.

I sat on the damp steps, facing the door. With a heavy lean I could relieve some of the pressure on my shoulder. I dozed off again, waking to the heavy clank of the iron key turning the lock. The ancient iron hinges creaked open. Light streamed through the door; it was the wrong color for daylight though. Three people entered leaving the door open behind them, their faces obscured in the shadow.

“She’s awake,” said a lilting Orlesian.

“It would appear so,” replied an Antivan.

The third grabbed a handful of my hair, and surprisingly gently pulled back my head to look me in the eye. “Get up,” she said in a thick Nevarran accent. With a hand under my arm, she allowed me to lean on her.

I grunted as my shoulder screamed, tearing away from my body.

“She’s in pain,” remarked the Antivan.

The Nevarran lead me outside. I tried keeping my eyes open, but could barely manage narrow slits. The hallway was only a dozen feet long. Other smaller doors lined its walls. Once outside, the Nevarran shoved me forward.

“What did you do?” she demanded.

I could not answer. As my eyes adjusted to the oddly colored daylight, all I could see was a familiar sickening green glow. The sky was no longer blue. Clouds swirled in a chartreuse vortex. The world was extraordinarily quiet, except for the occasional scream or moan.

“I didn’t do that. I just came through it,” I answered.

“Came from where?” asked the Orlesian.

“The Fade. It’s a tear in the Veil.”

“That explains why we’re overrun with demons,” the Antivan said.

“How did you do it?” asked the Nevarran, taking the shackles in her hand.

I screamed, falling to my knees to escape the unexpected torque on my shoulder.

“Don’t. You’re hurting her,” yelled the Antivan. She laid a hand on my head. “We’re not going to do that to you anymore,” she promised.

“My apologies,” said the Nevarran. Gently, she crouched behind me, unlocking the shackles binding my wrists.

I sighed, nearly letting out the tears I had been withholding. I circled my head, then gingerly my shoulders. My right shoulder screamed in pain, once again. As I rubbed one raw wrist, I noticed a bright green light coming from my left hand. Well, that was new. Or was it?

The Nevarran put her hand lightly on my forearm. "It's dislocated. I can put it back for you."

I nodded, grabbing a stray stick off the ground, stuffing it between my teeth.

She took my arm gently in her hand, looked up at me to make sure I was ready, and deftly twisted it back into place. I grunted, biting into the stick. When I inhaled through my teeth, shards of bark shot into the back of my throat. I grabbed my newly relocated shoulder as a coughing fit wracked my body. The Antivan handed me a waterskin. I gargled the water, spitting it onto the ground.

The Orlesian handed me a flask. "Don't spit that out."

It was excellent Ferelden whiskey. I handed the flask back to her. Clasping my hands together before me, I rubbed my wrists and studied that damn mark on my left hand. The twinkling green light crackled and brightened.

With curtailed steps, I followed the Orlesian and the Antivan across a frozen expanse, past fearful onlookers. The Nevarran walked behind, though almost at my shoulder. We reached a stone bridge encased by two wooden towers. A door opened. The bridge held crates of weapons and supplies. Guards stood at the door, and the center. Scared women and children huddled together in corners.

A chantry scholar approached intently. “Get her back into that cell!”

“She claims the ability to close the rift, Chancellor,” answered the Antivan.

“She’ll kill us all!” He exclaimed.

“If she wanted to kill all of us, we’d all be dead instead of just those in attendance at the conclave,” the Orlesian declared.

“I didn’t kill those people,” I muttered through the throbbing in my shoulder. “My father, and all four of my brothers were there too.”

“Bann Trevelyan?” asked the Antivan. “You’re Isabeau Trevelyan.”

I nodded, a tear finally escaping. “They’re all dead, aren't they?”

She nodded in return. “My apologies.”

“She murdered the Divine, and we’re exchanging niceties?” the brother exclaimed.

“She didn’t murder her entire family,” the Nevarran defended.

“No, she didn’t,” the Orlesian agreed. She bent, removing the manacles from my ankles.

“Thanks,” I said.

She nodded.

I bent down to tug my leggings over my raw shins and ankles.

“Solas!” the Nevarran called out. “We are in need of your services.”

A tall, thin, statuesque elven man approached. His head was entirely devoid of hair, smooth as an egg. His skin was fair. He wore a green turtleneck sweater under a thick wolf pelt coat. “I am Solas,” he introduced.

“Isabeau,” I offered.

“I can provide healing assistance if you so desire,” he smiled, drolly.

“Please,” I sighed.

He took me by the elbow, gently guiding me to sit on a sturdy crate, helping me onto it.

“Do you mind?” he asked our audience.

The three women and the Chantry brother walked over to the table in the center of the bridge. No one else dared glance at the apostates in the corner.

His hands were as smooth as his head, not a callous or hangnail to be found. While he was all business, I couldn’t help but find the moment to be the most sensual thing that had occurred to me in recent memory. His touch was lighter than a feather. His skin was both cool and warm, somehow. His essence spoke to me. He hummed, perhaps it was his voice, or perhaps it was just his energy surrounding me in his healing light. I felt the heat start in his palms, spread throughout his fingers, then ripple outward in waves across my skin.

A warm pulsating feeling tingled from within my core, spreading towards my shoulder and the throbbing in my head. I could feel Solas behind me, even warmer than the feeling from within. He seemed to radiate. I felt the fabric of my body fixing itself using whatever Solas called upon as raw materials. I had experienced healing magic on many occasions, but never like this. Healers called on the nature of one’s own body, and generally used lyrium to get the body to heal itself. Solas used something else.

I could tell by his appearance that he was no Circle mage. Most Enchanters would have called his clothing rags, and his magic wild. He was anything but wild. Everything about him was orderly and specific. His power came from lengthy study, and dedicated practice. I knew he was more powerful than any First Enchanter I had ever met. I could feel the magic within him; it called to me like wolves howling at the moon.

“How does that feel?” he asked, his voice a stone skipping across water.

I looked up at him over the shoulder he had just healed. “Like it never happened.”

“I assure you, it did. I saw them throw you to the floor of that cell. I insisted on keeping watch, to make sure that mark didn’t kill you. They would not permit my use of magic while near you though, until we knew more.” Solas nodded at the green glow emanating from my left hand.

“What have you learned?” I asked, readjusting my robe over my shoulders. Snow had begun to cover the crates, and the walls of the bridge.

“It sparks alive when the rift yawns. They’re connected. I believe you can close it.”

He spoke calmly, evenly. My head was going much faster. “I already know that,” I said, shaking my head. I was having a hard time remembering why I knew that.

“You do?” This was the first time I had heard him surprised.

“Solas, is she telling the truth?” the Nevarran asked, obviously eavesdropping.

“Yes, I believe so,” he answered.

“Are you sure?” the Orlesian asked.

“As sure as I can be until I see her do it,” he answered.

***

My mind felt fuzzier as we ascended the mountain path towards the soldiers who held it against the demons pouring out of the rift. There was a moment when I could recall being trapped in the Fade, finding Cullen who had come to rescue me, and walking through a rift with him. Then, in the next, I’d wake up again on that cold, stone floor, wondering where I was and how I had gotten there.

Then, without warning, I'd be walking along a snowy mountain path following Solas towards the Breach, again. I knew I had done this before.

I still couldn’t recall the names of these three women, though their voices sounded as familiar to me as my mother’s. Solas had insisted they arm me, or send me to my death quickly. I was given a staff. Demons had overrun the path to the Temple of Sacred Ashes. Soldiers lay dead in pools of blood, grotesque green pools of ooze covering them.

Up ahead I saw a small rift. A tall, blond man fought off demons with a line of soldiers at his back. He wore a burgundy waistcoat, and wielded a longsword as if it were an extension of his arm. He took great caution to keep an eye on those around him, protecting them if need be. Clearly, he was the most experienced fighter. As I approached he seemed to come into focus.

Cullen. I knew his name as surely as I knew my own.

I ran up behind him, my mark pointed towards the rift. I reached for it, trying to push the opening back into the Fade. Another demon came through. I felt a warm hand on my shoulder.

“You must go to the Fade, touch it to repair it,” Solas said.

I had been trapped there for months. I realized I knew the Fade almost as well as Solas. The rift snapped shut. Cullen, Leliana, and Cassandra picked off the final demons. Solas looked at me, mouth agape.

“You learn fast,” he said, his brows arched high on his tall forehead.

“I know,” I told him. In that fleeting moment, I could remember everything.

***

Later, we had regrouped within the walls of Haven’s Chantry. Cassandra, Leliana, Josephine, and Cullen had retreated to the War Room. They didn’t trust me. Solas was asked to speak with me to figure out the scope of my abilities. I suspected, like in the last Inquisition, he would remember the previous iterations as I had. However, I had not yet had the chance to speak with him to find out.

I found him standing outside of his quarters, gazing at the tear in the sky. “We’ve met before haven’t we?” I asked him.

His shoulders collapsed as he bowed his head. “Zunyla is dead.”

“What?” I asked, shocked. I watched a tear escape each eye. Solas cried?

Oh. They were the cutest couple.

“She was killed at the conclave, where I found you this time, alive. I keep trying to think back to the first one. I didn’t know her yet. Was she there amongst the rubble? Was Clan Lavellan even at the Conclave the first time I found you? I don’t know that we have any way of knowing. I don’t know that we could get back there if we wanted to.”

I laid my hand on his shoulder. “You loved her.”

“A great deal, actually,” he said.

“They joked about you two not being a couple, in the tavern that night. It must have been hurtful.”

“I hadn’t cared for someone that way in what feels like lifetimes. I had spent far more time, as of late, within the Fade rather than in my own body. She made me feel alive again. As precarious as the situation was, I did not dare hope to form any type of romantic attachment to her. I tried holding her at arms’ length to no avail.” He turned his eyes back towards the green hole in the sky. “If given the chance to get back to her, I will not make the same mistake. Though, I fear . . . no, I know . . . I will only break her heart in the end.”

“She spoke of you fondly. Perhaps it was a bit of idolatry, but that’s as good as any reason, is it not?”

He failed at holding in a chuckle. “I think the feeling is quite mutual.”

“Really,” I asked, eyebrows raised. “Do tell.”

“Look at me. Gossiping like Dorian. It makes me miss him,” Solas admitted.

“I miss him too. I imagine he will show up sooner or later though.”

“Yes, I imagine he will.” Solemnity washed over us.

I nudged his shoulder with mine. “Care to get back on topic? The gossip? Maybe talking about her will help ease your pain a little.”

“She learned fast, faster than you. She wasn’t nearly as stubborn. And she wasn’t distracted by Cullen’s broad shoulders.” Solas nudged my shoulder with his. “She was distracted by mine, so spending time with her was easy. I found her immediately obnoxious and young and delightful all at the same time. I felt like an old man in her presence. It humbled me that she did not see me in the same light.”

“I think it’s why she liked you. She had a wisdom to her years. The limited time I spent with her, I saw it too. I think she was an excellent Inquisitor. My condolences, my friend.”

He stared off sharply into the distance for a long time. We stood in silence together, watching the swirling green miasma in the sky.

After quite some time, Solas asked, “What happened back there? In the Herald’s Rest?”

“Before we wound up here? I was approaching Hawke and Fenris when I heard the most haunting melody. The voice was singing, just for me. I wanted to dig far under the mountain to find it. Then, I woke up in the dungeon this morning.”

“The Calling. Fenris had been hearing it before returning from the Fade. Are you having other sympathetic responses to anyone else?”

“I had one to you just before, certainly. I don’t know if that counts.”

He smiled a half-smile. “Isabeau, I need you to pay special attention to this. Don’t go anywhere near lyrium, of any color. I’m going to attempt to discern the reason for this repetition of time, I suppose. If Dorian shows up we need to address Magister Alexius immediately, without delay.”

“I’ll remain alert. To think, I was worried about my relationship with Cullen. Now, we have to worry about the fabric of the world ripping apart. Is Cole here yet?” I asked, excitedly.

“No. He should arrive the night of Haven’s destruction, I believe.”

“I seem to remember Dorian showing up at the gates that night,” I told him.

“Hmmm,” Solas thought, and paced. “I suppose we can’t be sure of anything. The events do not seem to unfold the same way as before. We really should stay ready for anything.”

“That sounds like as good a plan as any.” I nudged him again. “Speaking of broad shoulders . . . I’m going to go ogle someone.”

Solas put a hand on my arm.

“I’m sorry that she’s gone. And, I’m sorry that I didn’t yet have a chance to call her friend.” I touched my fingertips to his cheek, softly pressing a kiss to the other. “We’ll get through this together.” His cheeks were so smooth, not even a hint of stubble. It felt strange. Cullen's cheeks were never that smooth.

I missed him. So, I went to find him, hoping against hope that he, too, would remember.

Cullen was where he always was, out in front of the inner palisade training troops in hand-to-hand combat. There were sixteen people sparring near the pup tents by the lake. Cullen stood sentinel, his hands clasped behind his back as he stalked the line. Jim was at his side, a clipboard and quill in hand ready to hang on the Commander’s every word. Unfortunately for Jim, Cullen was a man of few words, unless you were in bed with him.

As I approached him my heart raced. One more chance to get him to fall in love with me all over again. “Pardon me, Commander.” Oh no. I hadn't thought this far. I have no idea what to say to him.

“Lady Trevelyan,” he bowed.

A reminder that I had not yet been bestowed the title of “Inquisitor.” The last time we were in this position I had asked if he could tell me about what the Inquisition was doing for these people. I remember having a hard time looking at him. No matter where my gaze settled, I pictured doing lewd things to him. I wanted to chew on his thigh. I could see the outline through his fitted breeches. I looked at his thigh now. Yep, there it was. Same problem.

“Lady Trevelyan?” He cleared his throat.

“Mmm-hmmm?” I did it. I looked at his fathomless amber eyes. But, they were blue. Cullen’s eyes weren’t blue. I looked down to see if anything else was wrong. No, he wore the same thing every day. Everything else was the same. Why were his eyes wrong?

“Are you quite all right?” he asked, concern knit on his brow.

“I— I— I am just going to go have a seat over there. I am not feeling too hot.” I turned abruptly, shuffling over towards the bench by the stables. What the f*ck? What the f*ck? What the f— ?

“How ya doin’ there, Sparkler?” a gruff voice asked.

Sparkler? No, that was Varric’s name for Dorian. “I’ve been better,” I told him.

“Yeah, I bet. Lookin’ a little lost is all. And, I thought you might need something.” Varric took a seat next to me, patting my knee with his hand. “What can I do for you?”

“I am having, maybe a panic attack? And, things are all wrong so I just need to sit down, and remember to take . . .”

Inhale.

“Deep cleansing breaths.”

Exhale. “And everything will be fine, and Solas will figure it out, and we’ll be okay again.”

“You and Solas working on a plan already?”

“Something like that.”

“Well, I figured you two mages would hit it off. He hasn’t left your side since he found you, ya know. I don’t think he’s slept. He just knelt on the ground next to you, holding your head in his lap. I’m surprised he wasn’t there when you woke. But, I heard the Seeker made him get something to eat, and told him eating in a dungeon was obscene.”

“Yeah, we’ve, ah, worked some things out already. A little.”

“Good, good. No time like the present, right?” Varric said, with a wink.

Wait, he winked when he said that. Did he know? “Varric . . . do you feel like maybe you’ve done this before?”

“Beau-beau!” Varric opened his arms, enveloping me in a huge bear hug.

“Varric? You too. But, you called me ‘Sparkler’ just then.”

“I was testing you. Been trying to test everyone. We were in the Herald’s Rest, then I woke up and the Conclave was just gone . . . again.” Varric’s eyes closed as he slowly shook his head side-to-side. “All those people. Again.”

“Solas found Zunyla in there. She’s dead. He’s, well he’s heartbroken, I think.”

“Oh, not Zuny. It’s weird. I didn’t even think of her, or wonder about her at all until you mentioned her name. My head feels like it’s full of nug fuzz.”

I took his hand. “Cullen’s eyes are blue.”

“Well, that’s not right. Only man I know whose eyes are almost as beautifully golden as my own.” Varric shook his thick head of hair, miming flipping long hair over his shoulder.

“Yeah, Solas is working on it.” Realizing that Varric had also noticed the change of time and location helped calm my blue-eyed Cullen nerves the tiniest bit.

“Great, so we have Solas too. Anyone else?” Varric asked, handing me a flask. "Here. This will help you relax. You're wound pretty tight already."

“Well, not Cullen. I haven’t really spent any time with anyone else. The girls are locked in the War Room. And, most of these other people are dead before Skyhold. Sadly. sh*t." I upended the flask of smooth spiced rum. The warmth that Solas had poured into me returned. "Maker, I can’t believe it’s all happening again. At least last time I didn’t have to relive Haven.”

“Remember when Curly pulled you out of that snow drift though. When he walked into camp carrying you in his arms . . . Man, he was worried sick about you. And so proud at the same time.” Varric squeezed my hand. “It’s gonna be ok, kid. We’re gonna get through this.”

“I’m glad you’re on my team this time, Varric. I don’t have a good feeling about Cullen.”

In the afternoons, I went to ogle Cullen. From afar he was Cullen. His demeanor, his temperament, the way he rubbed the back of his neck. Maybe today I’d just watch instead of having any hopes dashed when I got close. He stalked, observed, and pecked each combatant. Mostly he gave them notes about an opening they missed, or a form they got wrong. “The winner will always be the one taking advantage of their opponent’s weaknesses,” he’d tell them.

Cullen had once told me I was his weakness, that anytime I was within sight he had trouble concentrating.

I stood around watching him for days, just watching from a slight distance. Usually from the bench by the stables, or the dock by the lake, or the rocks by the treeline. Anywhere with a good line of sight.

Varric’s voice startled me from behind. “I know what you’re up to. Playing the long game. Just go kiss him already.”

“Varric! He doesn’t even know me.”

“He knows you. Maybe not like last time, or the time before that. But, he will. I thought Hawke and Fenris were unique, but I can see you and Curly were made for each other too. It’s uncanny really. I’m not used to seeing people around me that happy.” Varric sounded far away for a moment as he talked about Hawke. I knew they were close by the way Varric spoke of her. Seeing them together one would have thought they were brother and sister instead of just old friends.

“Ha! I don’t think any of us are. Everyone was miserable in the Circle. All the time. It was like a little misery factory. Especially the last ten years. You think after the Blight ended people would have rejoiced. But, half of Ferelden was dead. Then, half of Kirkwall was dead. Now . . .”

“Half of these people are going to die,” Varric said.

“Yeah. My happiness pales in comparison to that. He doesn’t need me. He’s busy playing army. He’s made for this, Varric. Look at him.”

Varric took my face in his hands, turning me to face Cullen. “No, you look at him. He’s lonely, out of touch, and probably on lyrium still, or again. Look at the bags and dark circles under his eyes. Look at the wild look on his face, like you can see too much of the whites of his eyes.”

“He does look like he needs to sleep for a week,” I said.

“And get laid.” Varric laughed.

I laughed. “Yeah, and get laid. But, we didn’t even sleep together until we had been at Skyhold for months. I was on the road most of the time.”

“Then don’t play the long game here. Go get him.”

“Fine,” I said, dusting off my pants. “Commander,” I called, approaching with my staff in hand.

“Lady Trevelyan,” he addressed me.

“Lady Trevelyan is my mother. Please, call me Isabeau.” I extended my hand to him.

“Commander Cullen Rutherford, messere.”

“Commander, would you care to spar with me?”

“I do not usually spar with recruits. However, I don’t know that you’re a recruit exactly, so much as a refugee.”

“Oh, I’m a refugee?” That made my hackles go up. “Well, I’m a refugee with a staff. Would you care to duel?”

“I am no mage. Surely, I’d be no match for you.”

“You’re a Templar, aren’t you?”

“I was a Templar. However, I left the Order behind me.” He bowed, taking a step away to disengage from me. "Messere."

We were gathering an audience. “Commander,” I stepped towards him.

With a quickness I did not predict he had drawn his sword and caught a shield thrown to him by Jim. I did not hesitate. I lunged, sweeping my staff at his near leg. He dodged, spinning away from me with his shield raised. I sent a bolt of lightning in the general direction of his head. He easily blocked it with his shield. Two more, both blocked as I moved away from him.

He practically stomped his feet as he paced, inching closer. He could not hit me at this range. I fired a bolt a step in front of him. He startled, glaring at me. I stood my ground, staff and feet planted. He marched over. I did not move.

When he was about ten feet in front of me he stopped. He could close the distance in less than two steps. His eyes met mine. Blue. Blue!

Who are you? I wondered.

He answered with an explosiveness I hadn’t expected. He had purged my magic, taken the spell from the tip of my tongue. Varric was right. He was taking lyrium.

I was in trouble, or would have been if I had met Cullen the Templar on the streets of Kirkwall. Thankfully, I was a good little mage who stayed in her circle in her city right next door. All those years, he was right next door. And, I didn’t even know.

He snatched my staff as his shield arm encircled me, tossing it away. He pulled me into his chest with his shield, bringing his sword up towards my head. I let my legs fall out from under me, slipping out of his grasp to sit on the ground. I rolled, wrapping myself around one leg, bringing him down to the ground with me. He tossed his sword to the side, point first so that he wouldn’t land on it. He tucked his shield arm, rolling over it. I held fast to his leg. He brought me back up to my feet. I ran towards my staff. When I turned to face him, staff in hand, he also had recovered his sword.

We both breathed heavily, meeting eyes with a tip of our heads, acknowledging each other’s prowess. He still held the mana he’d purged from me. He’d use it against me. I shrouded myself in a shimmering violet dome. He banged his sword on the face of his shield.

I spun my staff, converting it into a sword of light, the blade only visible as it swung through the air.

“That’s fancy,” he said, likely something he had never seen before. I hadn’t even learned it until much later at Skyhold from Viv.

I closed the distance between us. He swiped at my midsection with a half-hearted backhanded swing. I followed the blade, swinging at his open midsection. He caught my hand with his shield, parrying my sword arm over my head. My blade sliced through the air. His sword came in, contacting my dome. The barrier fell as he purged it away. He should have needed a moment to recover after using my mana. But, he didn’t. With his next breath, before I could even think about recovering, he sent a blast of blue-white light through his body. I was knocked to the ground, the wind taken from my lungs.

I gasped at the pain of my wet lungs sticking to each other as they tried in vain to reinflate. I grabbed my chest, trying to roll to my side, gulping like a fish out of water.

“Better luck next time,” he said, walking away.

I needed a few days to recover, both my bruised body and ego. He hadn’t offered a hand up or apologized for the pain he had caused.

This was not my Cullen. The fear I had before was now coming to reality. The Cullen in this Haven was someone I had never seen before, merely a concept of the man I loved, wearing the eyes of another.

My hip hurt from where I had fallen on it. I hadn’t taken a hit that hard in a long time. And, never from Cullen. There were times when he didn’t hold back, but Cullen never played dirty. For him to move that fast there’s no way he had ever given up lyrium or his Templar training. I was dealing with a very different Cullen Rutherford.

Perhaps this Cullen had just taken a different road. He had obviously stayed a Templar at heart, continuing the practice of the Order even though he had walked away from his duties. Lyrium took its toll on mages and templars both. However, mages were trained using lyrium from the beginning. Templars were force fed it, not properly trained in the intricacies of how it affected one’s mind.

When the pain in my hip was nearly forgotten I figured I had waited long enough. He stood watching the troops, arms crossed over his chest. He looked angry, a look I so rarely saw on his peaceful face. I didn’t think a rematch was exactly a great idea, but maybe it would get his mind off of it. He was the one who brought it up.

I snuck up behind him, or attempted to. I saw the moment when he heard me. His head co*cked ever so slightly to the side as he thought about looking behind him, but decided against it knowing it wasn’t likely to kill him.

I was close enough that he could hear a whisper. “I’d like a rematch, Commander.”

“I didn’t think you’d be so eager, my lady.”

“I don’t like to lose.”

“That’s what I mean.” When he turned to face me I was unprepared for the look on his face. He was the eager one.

The blue-eyed monster strode towards me, only a sword in his hand. No shield. He attacked, slashing at my hands, driving me backwards towards the steps of Haven’s gate. I pulled on the Fade, casting a shield around myself. I had used the spell many times in the past; it had never felt this dreadful. I almost felt as if I was tearing through the Veil. The roar in my ears was deafening.

He watched me, seething. Suddenly, I couldn’t move. It felt like a paralysis glyph, something Templars were not taught. I couldn’t move, I realized I didn't need to in order to interact with the Fade. I could just think it.

A sliver of green appeared behind him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a flaming shade exit the Fade. I snapped the tiny rip shut. He let go of me, drawing his sword back. With a scream he plunged his sword into the shade, ripping it to shreds.

With my staff and a sweep of my leg, I took his feet out from under him. As he hit the ground I straddled his chest, pressing the tip of my staff to his breastplate, letting a trickle of electricity roll through it.

He ground his teeth together, seething. “I yield.”

I offered him a hand. He took it after snarling at me some more. He pulled me in close.

“That thing could have hurt someone.”

“Yeah, you. And I would have taken it if that was the case. But, you took my bait, and I took you out.”

“You’re reckless, and I don’t like it.” His mouth was tight, his eyes narrow, aglow with rage.

"I think you do like it, Commander." I let my eyes travel down his body and back up to meet his gaze. I could have sworn those strange blue eyes flashed at me.

Chapter 10: Sun-Blonde-Vint-1

Chapter Text

Chapter 10: Sun-Blonde-Vint-1

Isabeau

Later that evening, Solas, Varric and I sat at a small table in the corner of Flissa’s Pub. Each table was ramshackle, like most things in Haven. But, Flissa went to great lengths to ensure that each table had a lit candle at all times. She refused to use magic for these candles simply because she liked the color of real fire. It was relaxing to be back in this little pub, one more thing I thought I’d never see again.

These days, I suppose we couldn’t rule out anything merely because of its sheer absurdity.

“No, that’s the thing. He’s not my Cullen. He feels all wrong . . . like a demon?!" I realized.

“Oh, you’re being dramatic. He’ll come around again,” Varric said, placing a handful of coins in Flissa's hand when she delivered our drinks.

“No, it isn’t up for discussion. That’s not my Cullen; it’s a demon. I'm certain.”

“Oh,” Varric mumbled. "Well, sh*t."

“I spoke to Cassandra earlier,” Solas told us. “She insisted I use her title when I address her.”

“Varric’s the only one who uses her title. And, that’s just because she hates it,” I said. “That’s not the only difference. Besides Cullen’s blue eyes, Chancellor Roderick has been charming.”

“Nightingale has aged ten years. Not sure what she’s been up to, but it hasn’t been easy,” Varric added.

“Well, then. I guess that changes a few things.” Solas downed his drink.

I had never seen him drink with such enthusiasm before. I giggled.

He shot a sideways glance my direction. “What?”

“You just shot a glass of wine.”

Solas tried to retain a look of refinement, nearly succeeding. “It helps me think.”

“Then, I haven’t seen you do a lot of thinking.” I laughed, pouring him another glass.

“No, you haven’t.” He raised his glass. "To thinking our way out of this."

Varric and I touched our glasses to Solas'. "To thinking our way out of this." We drank. I refilled.

“I think we need Dorian. Should we go seek out Dorian? Does anyone know where he is right now?” I asked.

“The attack on Haven occurs in three weeks. We can try to find him before that,” Solas said.

“He’s probably still at home in Tevinter. We could send a raven,” Varric suggested.

“We can’t send a raven without Leliana’s knowledge. What else?” I asked.

“We can send one of us,” Varric replied.

“We cannot go out on the road alone. It isn’t safe. There are Venatori roaming Orlais,” I pointed out.

“You and I will go together,” Solas said to me. “Varric needs to stay here to keep an eye on everyone, to rally the troops and decide if anyone else remembers.”

“Do you think we can reach Dorian through the Fade?” I asked.

“Possibly,” answered Solas. “But, I think we should head for Tevinter without delay in case it doesn’t work.”

“What if we stop it here? What if all these people live and we successfully defend Haven against Corypheus? Half of these people are going to die. Zunyla is already dead. What if we never need to go to Skyhold?” I looked Solas in the eyes, then Varric. “Which things do we pick?”

“Ah, I feel like if we get caught up in the ‘what ifs’ of being here we’ll never get back. We have to go back, right Chuckles?” Varric's voice gave away the worry he tried to conceal.

Solas smiled at the diminutive. “Yes, Varric. I do think we need to go back, wherever that is.”

“Fine. Thank you for making that decision for me.” I took a deep breath, sighing. “All right. Then, we set out for Dorian. We get Dorian and figure out Magister Alexius’ time magic, and we go back. I’m going to go get us a couple of horses.”

“We’ll need to switch to harts once we get further into Orlais. But, horses will do for now,” Solas called behind me.

I could hear them chatting about my stress level as I walked away. Yes, it was very, very high. I admit. I always went to Cullen when I was stressed. He carries himself with such a calm demeanor. He never tells me that I’m silly for being upset, which is what my mother would say. Sometimes she was right. It was silly.

Cullen always said, “Come now. Tell me what has you so upset.” Even before we got to the point where he would hold out his arms to me, and envelope me in his embrace I could tell that it’s what he wanted to do. He would hold me against his stupid hard, cold breastplate, which somehow always felt good on my flaming red face. And, it didn’t stick like that fur he insisted on wearing. So, I guess it wasn’t so bad afterall.

His silhouette against the bright Frostbacks was so distinctive. I could see the hulking pelt wrapped around his broad shoulders. The knee high boots he wore accentuated his long legs. Not only his height commanded respect; it is what he gave to every single person he met. He always seemed to make the right choice, and make it look easy. I knew he struggled over each decision though. I know what haunts him.

What if this decision lead to another Uldred or Meredith. I suppose I was thankful for Meredith’s descent, ultimately. She proved to Cullen that a Templar was just as likely as a mage to snap into a state of moral ineptitude. I think that’s why he could be a Templar no longer. Everything he had been taught about the Order was suddenly a lie.

He wondered if everything he had stood for, committed his life to for nearly two decades was worth the sacrifice. I think that’s thing he thought about every time he considered taking lyrium again.

It was all a lie, an illusion.

I couldn’t stop myself from glancing towards Cullen’s tent as I walked out of Haven’s towering front gate towards the stables. He was sitting around a fire with some troops. The only other person I recognized was Lysette, who had been under his command in Kirkwall. They were sitting next to each other chatting comfortably. Lysette still wore her Templar armor, more out of need than alliance, I thought. She had a huge smile on her face. I recognized the look on her face. It was how I looked at him. She laughed, bumping his shoulder with hers. He didn’t look at her the way he looked at me, mostly because that was not Cullen.

It was little consolation. I missed him terribly. And, I worried about leaving Varric in the hands of a demon Commander. I turned, walking over to the stables to procure two horses. Solas and Varric didn’t seem concerned. Varric was capable of taking a demon or two on his own. But, how many were in the camp, and would they wait for the arrival of their darkspawn Magister before attacking?

The trip to Tevinter would take us approximately two weeks. Solas insisted we would need harts to get us through the crossing from Orlais to Nevarra. We could switch back to horses after that. He knew that while I could ride anything, harts were my least favorite.

The trip to Tevinter would take us approximately two weeks. Solas insisted we would need harts to get us through the crossing from Orlais to Nevarra. We could switch back to horses after that. While I could ride anything, harts were my least favorite.

"So, are we stopping at the Dalish Hart Estabulary on our way?" I asked, certain I had made up the word 'estabulary.'

Solas looked at me, a corner of his lip curled roguishly. "No."

The horses plodded along for a while. He remained silent.

"No?" I prodded.

"We're not going to Tevinter. At least, I do not think it will come to that."

Two whole sentences. That was better than 'no.' I frequently found Solas curt with his words. Now, that it was just the two of us, I hoped I didn't long for Varric or Dorian's conversation. "Well, would you like to tell me where we are going?"

"Skyhold," he answered bluntly.

"Skyhold? Why are we going to Skyhold?"

"To find Dorian in the Fade. He probably went to Skyhold looking for you or for the Iron Bull, perhaps. While I could pull you into Skyhold in the Fade, I would rather you find it yourself." Solas' steel grey eyes met mine. For a moment, he looked at me with great affection. Within the next heartbeat, he shoved it back behind the facade he was trying to wear. "I know you can do it. I would just like to set you up for success. However, there is something else, something I dare to share only with you."

Solas pulled his horse up next to mine. Without even a tug on the reins, both horses came to a halt. We dismounted, removing our horses' bridles, and hobbling their legs so they couldn't run off. The horses slowly wandered, nibbling at the stray weeds and pine needles along the mountain path. Solas began building a small fire for cooking.

"I hope you can start that," I told him. "You know I can only blow it up, right?"

He chuckled. I had never heard Solas laugh so much. "You may yet learn one day."

"Twenty-eight years and I haven't learned yet," I scoffed.

With a sharp snap of his head, he turned towards me. "Isabeau, have you even tried?"

I don't know if I could remember being so shocked by such an innocent question before.

"Have you?" he asked again.

"Not recently, no," I answered, after finally giving it some thought.

Holding out both his hands, he stepped away from the bundle of sticks and leaves.

"It's just going to spark once and poof into ash," I tried to tell him.

"No. You're going to start a fire, or we don't eat," he said, dusting off his hands, digging into a saddle bag.

"We still have over a half day's ride!"

"Then, you better get started."

I looked at that bundle of sticks, not wanting to have to go around the area gathering a hundred more bundles of sticks to explode. "Okay, how do I get it to catch fire and not explode?" I asked.

Solas looked at me sideways. "You cannot tell me you spent two decades in a Circle and cannot light a campfire."

I nodded. "Yes, I can."

"Isabeau, just what kind of mage do you consider yourself to be?" Solas folded his hands in front of himself.

I shrugged. "I'm a lightning mage."

"And, that is all?"

I crossed my arms over my chest."I didn't really do well in the school part of the Circle. Lightning came natural for me. I stuck to what I was good at."

"Lightning starts fires," Solas replied.

I mocked him in my head with another rendition of, "lightning starts fires."

Solas co*cked his head ever so slightly, with a snort.

He heard it. I know he heard it, somehow. I looked at the fire, whispering the words of Ancient Tevene. A lightning bolt came from the sky, striking the tinder. The firewood disappeared with a 'Pop!' in a cloud of ash.

Solas shrugged. "Again."

I threw my hands up in the air. "Why should I do it again? I thought I was the Inquisitor. Why should I remake your campfire over and over?"

Solas took my hands. Those stupid gorgeous eyes met mine, again. "Because you think you do not know how. So you must learn."

I squeezed his hands, meeting his eyes. "I don't work for you." I snatched my hands from his grasp, turning to fetch my horse. "We'll eat on the road," I said over my shoulder.

What happened next, I could have never predicted. I do not know how I knew what was happening. However, I felt Solas nudge the corner of my mind with his. I stood firm with my back towards him. "What?" I asked, perhaps with a little more malice in my voice than intended.

Like the ripple of honey off the spoon, back into the jar, his voice coated my mind. "Isabeau . . . Do you want to know what else awaits us in Skyhold?"

I turned to him. He was approaching me. I couldn't help but notice the jaunty sway of his hips. "I am awfully tired of surprises. First, I'd like to know why in the name of Holy Andraste can I hear you in my mind. Second, yes please, tell me why else we're going to Skyhold."

"There's an Eluvian there. We can use it to get to Tevinter to find Dorian if the Fade doesn't work." Solas stood there in front of me, all calm, like he didn't just tell me some deep dark elven secret.

I slapped his chest as I walked past. "You're just full of elfy crap, aren't you?"

He grabbed my wrist before I could pull my hand away. Once again, his mind touched mine. "You know as well as I do that you can start that fire."

I tried to pull my wrist from his grasp. He did not let go. I did not pull hard. There was a part of me that didn't want him to stop touching me.

I met his eyes. "I do not think now is the time for that, do you?"

His grip relaxed, returning my hand to me. We stood toe-to-toe. "When is the time?"

My breath caught in my chest. My stomach fluttered. "Maybe tomorrow?"

Solas nodded. "Maybe tomorrow."

***

We rode in amiable silence for a while longer before Solas got chatty again. I liked it better when I was worried there wouldn't be enough conversation.

“I know you prefer your nuggalope, but would you prefer any nuggalope to a horse?” Solas asked, breaking the silence.

“Huh? That’s a good question. Yeah, I think so, generally speaking. I mean, obviously they’re just too big for some areas. Horses can walk on almost any decent goat path, but nugs will go through anything. And, while they can't jump for sh*t, they’re not terrible in the mountains. They can make it to Skyhold okay, and we’re way up there.” Talking about the Inquisition's more unique mounts, the nuggalope, made my heart ache. Lily, my favorite Gwaren Land Hammer would hopefully still make her way to me at Skyhold in a few months. Or, we'd get back to a time with Cullen, and Lily.

Solas continued with the small talk. I found it noteworthy that he seemed so unsociable, but was quite chatty when I got him alone. “So, then horse or dracolisk?”

“Horse. Dracolisks think too much. And, they snap at horses for fun. You just can’t train that out of them. So riding with them is always a bitch unless you have a horse who is either used to them or unflappable.”

He laughed. “I suppose that is why I like them.”

“Hmmm," I leared at him. "I thought it was the claws and teeth.”

Again with the laughing. “So, if you are not a fan of dracolisks, why is it that you will choose them over the placid hart?”

“I’m always afraid of losing an eye to an antler. Nuggalope horns are much farther from my face." I failed ducking under a branch, which caught my hair, pulling a chunk free from my braid.

He laughed. “I suppose they are a little too elven for you.”

“I don’t mean it like that, but yes. I suppose they are a little 'too elven' for me." Dorian would have heard the air quotes. I wasn't sure Solas caught the affectation, though.

"Am I too elven for you?" Solas asked, his voice alarmingly smooth and deep.

I barked a laugh. "You’re far too elven for me, even though you don’t seem to identify with the Dalish.” I began wondering why he would ask what seemed to be such a leading question.

“I am not Dalish,” he said. “My people celebrate what was before the Dalish.”

“I thought the elves that came before the Dalish were virtually a mystery.”

“Virtually,” he said, with a smirk.

“What does that mean?” I realized I hadn't spent much time alone with Solas, but I had become familiar enough with that smirk to realize he thought he was outsmarting me. Or, at the very least wanted me to think he was outsmarting me.

Oh, no. My brain hurt.

“It means I have studied them, learning things no one else has heard in a very long time.” His voice loped along the conversation, like a hart in the hills.

“Do you plan on sharing it with other elves?” I asked.

“Yes, I am writing a book. I hope I can find an agent,” he joked. "I should ask Varric for advice."

I smiled at how light-hearted he had become. I expected Zunyla’s death to weigh on him more. Though, he didn’t seem like the type to get too attached to anyone or anything. He had the heart of a nomad, and the uniform to match. “When did you start making jokes?” I asked.

“Yesterday,” he said straight faced.

Solas really was an intriguing, mysterious, handsome man. Sure, I had noticed all of those things before, but I had never really appreciated the way the light shone off his perfectly smooth head, or the shimmer of his fathomless steel grey eyes. He was striking, and fascinating. I could have fallen for him, quite easily, in another lifetime, one without Cullen perhaps.

One like I was in now?

That evening when we set camp, Solas cast a barrier over us. While I could make one that large, I could not make it last more than a few minutes.

“It will stay even while we are asleep,” he said, unrolling a sleeping bag as I sat on the ground next to my pack.

“Did you just set it every night until one morning it was still there when you woke up?” I wondered.

“Precisely. You should start. It took me a year. I suspect it will take you two.” When he talks, he has a way of stringing together all of his words as if he's reciting poetry, or whispering a secret to a small child.

My head snapped up a few moments later when I finally heard the humour in his last statement. I narrowed my eyes at him.

His lips twitched as he shoved the smirk behind the curtain; only this time, I saw the curtain move. When did I find it so easy to be with him? How long had I wanted to slap him in the chest when he made a friendly jab my direction? If I was being honest with myself, (which I wasn't a big fan of lately, but figured I should give it a try if I want to get anything accomplished,) I had been attracted to Solas since I met him, much like Cullen.

Cullen . . . I thought about his shoulders, the way he stood watching troops spar, the way he swung a sword. I had to find Cullen, not flirt with Solas. "I don't see how Dorian and Bull enjoyed sexual relationships with such a wide variety of people before finding each other. I don’t think I have it in me to handle that kind of distraction.”

Solas wasn’t looking at me, but I could feel his eyes on me nonetheless. “Have you had many intimate relationships?" He asked, nearly nonchalantly.

“The Circle didn’t make it easy to have alone time with anyone. Growing up, as an apprentice I slept in a room with thirty other girls. I passed my Harrowing at a fairly young age, as was the Trevelyan way. As a novice mage, I still shared a space with three other people. I was seventeen when Maximus passed his Harrowing and joined us in the mage quarters.”

Solas handed me a bottle of wine. I took a long drink. It was Sun-Blonde-Vint-1, the good stuff. Tevinter put lyrium in the good stuff. The taste of lyrium is unmistakable: metallic almost like blood, with heavy notes of false promises, and the lingering sensation that power is an illusion. It was sure to loosen my lips, and put me to sleep. I passed the bottle back to him.

“Max had long, raven black hair, and a perfect aquiline nose. He’d passed his Harrowing just before the Blight had started. One day we took a walk to one of the farthest reaches of a basem*nt level. There should have been spiders everywhere, but it was just . . . quiet. So that was my first time. I was filthy. He noticed somewhere about halfway up the Tower and we dusted each other off. I was too distracted to care.” I hadn't thought about Max in a very— long— time.

Solas handed the bottle back to me. “How did you part ways?”

I shook my head, feeling guilty all over again. “He was offered First Enchanter of Kirkwall to rebuild after the Chantry. I thought about going with him, but he never asked. And, I never offered. I think we were just ready to go our separate ways. We parted amicably. We didn’t talk much at the end there. We didn’t need to, if you know what I mean.” I could still conjure the image of him on the ferry, the image I didn't get to see: Max standing at the railing, waving to me, sailing along the coast of the Waking Sea. "He had snuck out of my bed in the middle of the night, and left at first light. I guess we had said all the goodbyes I needed to. But, it would have been nice to see him off."

“You loved him.” Solas stated.

“Yeah, I did. I loved him for ten years. He was so wrapped up in his work though. I just never cared to study that much. I was busy convincing one of my brothers to swordfight me, or begging to take another military combat studies course, an unpopular class at the tower, or sneaking out to the stables to ride a horse. It was one of the only ways to get out of the Circle. Sometimes, they let me go home to ride horses with my mother. We had a sixteen stall barn, mostly Imperial Warmbloods, and plenty of retired farm horses from around the banndom. Imperial Warmbloods have an innate understanding of magic and aren't easily spooked. The Trevelyan line was so strong Tevinter imported them, not that anyone in Tevinter would ever admit to importing Marcher blood into those pure Imperial bloodlines.”

Surprise spread across Solas' brow. “You know so much about horses. I did not realize you were raised with them. I just knew you could sit one well.”

The compliment did not go unnoticed, even if it went unacknowledged. “I think that's why I like nuggalopes so much. They’re different. Harts are like tall, skinny, scaredy cat horses. They’re too horse like, but all the bad parts.”

“Is that what you think of elves too?” he asked.

I laughed. “What? That you’re too horselike?”

“That you know everything there is to know about elves because you were involved with one for a decade?” he deduced.

Well, wasn't that a sly change of subject? “How did you know Max was an elf?"

“Only an elf could spend ten years kissing those lips and walk away from them for books,” Solas said, taking the bottle out of his mouth, seductively.

Wait . . . was he being seductive? Or was I drunk? Or was it the lyrium talking? My head felt heavy, like it didn’t want to sit on my neck.

I woke up to Solas' hands on my shoulders. “I thought you would like the extra help relaxing. Perhaps that was too much though. Let's get you to bed.”

“You knew exactly what you were feeding me,” I said. "How in the name of the Maker did you find Tevinter wine in Haven?"

“Of course I did. We need to go to the Fade together. And, you need the lyrium to concentrate. We have to find Dorian.” Solas helped me get into my bedroll. He pulled the fire-warmed blanket up over my shoulder. "I always have Tevinter wine on me." He placed his two long, warm hands on my arm. "I will see you in the Fade, Isabeau Trevelyan."

I was so tired I could hardly lift my head. I didn't know how I'd find the right place in the Fade. I wasn't Solas. “You’re right. Thank you. We need to go find Dorian.”

***

“That’s why I gave you the lyrium wine, Isabeau.”

I looked Solas squarely in the eye. He smiled a half smile, then glanced around us. I followed his gaze. We were standing next to a pair of towering hart statues. It was night, yet with the light of the full moon I could see the green of the trees and the grass. He lead me over to a small pool surrounded by a stone wall. Everything felt familiar. Maybe that's because everything glowed with the light of the Fade, the light of my hand.

“Where are we?” I asked, despite knowing his answer.

“We’re in the Fade,” Solas answered.

“I know that. WHERE are we?”

“Oh!" Now he understood the question. "Well, you are in my bedroom,” he said.

“What bedroom?” I asked.

“My Fade bedroom,” he replied. “It is where I take women.”

“Wait, that's another joke. Isn't it? Does the Fade make you funnier?” I asked. "This isn't Skyhold." I turned to him, poking my fingertip into his sternum. "You’ve brought me here to seduce me, haven't you?"

“Not exactly.” Solas shook his head smugly.

“Wait. You’re not seducing me? Or you haven’t brought me here?”

“Both. I am seducing you as much as you are seducing me, I suppose. I tried to meet you at Skyhold. But, you wandered in here,” he assured me, gesturing to the hart guarded doorway.

“I walked into your Fade bedroom to seduce you?” I asked.

“You walked into my Fade bedroom,” he nodded. "Whether or not you are here to seduce me has yet to be seen."

“Damn, that is what I was thinking about as I fell asleep. Sorry. I didn’t mean to let myself in,” I apologized, turning around.

He laid a hand on my arm. At his touch I realize I am only wearing one of those elven tunics I wanted to get from Zunyla. It’s golden yellow with orange, brown, and red embroidery. “My colors,” she called it. I had always been drawn to magenta and violet. But, the autumn colors went with my warm skin tone, and the scenery of Skyhold, which I adored.

“And, I dressed myself like her.” I smiled. “She was my favorite elf.”

“Mine too,” he said, letting his hand slide away.

The bottom of my heart sank into the abyss of my stomach as his touch left me.

“Solas.”

He stopped turning away, bringing his eyes to meet my gaze.

Oh, no. It was time for honesty. “I know I’m not her. I’m not trying to be. And, you're not Cullen. I guess I just thought you were flirting with me all day. And, I don’t want to be alone.”

“Isabeau.” The whisper of my name coming from his lips sent chills down my spine, though I could not be sure that he said it aloud. He stepped into me, his slate grey eyes bore into mine. Our chests just barely touched. "You are magnificent, and strong willed. I am a little in awe of you. I would never presume to step into the Commander's shoes. But, I do not want to be alone tonight, either."

"Solas, I had no idea." I was truly surprised by his admission. In what world did Solas want me?

Oh, in this one, a world without Cullen.

I couldn't have pulled away from Solas in that moment if I had wanted to. And, I did not want to.

"Now you do."

"I do, what?" I asked, forgetting what we were talking about.

"Know how I feel about you," he answered, his hands folded behind his back, his shoulders staunchly square.

“It doesn’t make me a bad person, to seek comfort," I blurted out.

“If you’re going to rationalize it . . .” he began, putting his hands up between us.

“Yes.” I nodded vigorously. “I rationalize everything I do because everything I do seems to affect the whole world these days. So, if there’s no one to question my actions and decisions, I must do so myself.” Why did he get so sexy and charming as he was backing away from me?

“You are the leader the Inquisition needs. We all trust you. I think your rational brain is working just fine.” Having decided he had put enough distance between us, he folded his arms across his chest. "I do not want you to have to rationalize spending time with me."

“I just want to make sure because I know I can’t take this back. If Cullen is alive somewhere, I'll have to tell him. And, if he’s not—” The tears burst forth momentarily before I shut them back up. I looked up at him, glossy eyed. “Solas, if he’s dead I don’t know how I’ll go on.”

I could see his grief, held strongly in check behind his exceptional facade. He opened his arms to me. I ran to him, throwing my arms around him. We stood that way for a long time, embracing the other's pain. I took his, making it a part of me, hoping to lighten the load and help shoulder his burden. There was already so much pain inside of me. Surely, I wouldn't notice a little more.

"I know the feeling," he said. "Zunyla is dead. Cullen is a demon. This world is not the world from whence we came." I felt him poke at the edge of my mind again, still a strange feeling, like a hand run across my hair. His voice rang in my head like the tinkling of a silver bell. "If you want, I can help you forget for a time. If you will do the same for me.”

My eyes drifted closed. My head lulled to the side as my neck began to go limp. His lips just barely brushed the tiny hairs of my ear. I melted a little. My core clenched in response. I knew he waited for me to touch him, to give him permission.

I needed the escape. I looked him in the eye and rose up on my toes to kiss him.

He snaked one hand around my hip, up the curve of my back to settle on my waist. His lips came down on mine, softly at first, pausing. I parted my lips. The tips of our tongues touched, retreated, testing the waters. I took my free hand, setting it lightly on the wolf pelt across his chest, before running it over his shoulder. My fingertips trailed up his neck to his smooth head. He rolled his neck, pressing the silken skin into my palm. His mouth fell open.

“Do you like when I touch your head?”

He swayed into me, undulating. “I do.”

I shoved the wolf pelt from his shoulders. His eyes caught mine. I continued running my hand, feather light, across his head. His stare intensified. With lightning quickness he snatched me off the ground. I wrapped my legs around his waist as he pressed me to a tree. His mouth devoured mine. I pulled the tunic up over his head, tossing it into the grass. My hands explored the lean muscles of his back.

Our mouths danced. Our chests heaved. He pulled away, locking eyes with me again, asking if I was sure. I nodded. Solas' lips crashed down on mine, a wave onto the shore. His tongue traced the bow of my lip igniting a trail of fire. I ripped my tunic over my head, tossing it haphazardly away. I wore nothing underneath. Of course, because we were in the Fade.

His hands danced over my bare back. The warm skin of his forearms pressed us together. His fingers clutched at my shoulders as his tongue invaded my mouth. I needed more of him inside of me. I shoved a hand between us, reaching for his hard length that poked at me through his breeches.

Solas set me down with a smirk at my eagerness. He knelt in front of me, pressing a kiss to my mound. Then, he gently blew a stream of hot air against me. It was one of the most strangely erotic sensations, almost as if he were imparting some sort of sex magic on me. Solas didn’t know ancient elven sex magic did he?

My body felt a rush of warmth despite the chilly winter’s night air. His tongue traced a line up my mound. My knees trembled. He placed a steadying hand on my belly. I placed a hand on his head, stroking the smooth skin with a fingertip.

Solas' finger followed his tongue, tracing the same wet path. With gentle pressure, he stroked me, wickedly smiling up at me, maintaining eye contact as he dipped his tongue between my nether lips. My fingers curled against his smooth scalp. His tongue laved as pleasure built within me, circling my cl*t. My core clenched. His lithe tongue filled me, licking and lapping until I was so wet against his mouth that fluid bridged the short gap between us when he pulled away. He wiped his chin clean with the back of his arm.

With one hand on my hip, he inserted two fingers between my wet labia. Those fingers curled against me, spreading my wetness to my swollen bud. He circled it with his fingers as my knees again threatened to give way. They slid inside me. I pushed myself back against the tree as my body began to vibrate at his touch.

Inside of me, his fingers played me like a lute, strumming and plucking each string in perfect harmony. His mouth returned, nibbling on my cl*t as his fingers f*cked me until my entire body hummed.

I clutched at his shoulders, weak-kneed, concentrating on not letting my elbows buckle. I danced in place, white-knuckled. Tremors originated deep in my belly, spreading the sweet, threatening collapse of my joints. Teeth scraped softly across tender skin, while fingers strummed.

When he wrapped his tongue around my cl*t, bursts of light filled my vision. I felt the trickle of wetness spread across his face, dribbling down my leg, a trail of euphoria. I doubled over, arms shaking in a forever long pushup as the climax continued tearing through me.

Solas withdrew his fingers, drying them on his pants as he stood. He placed a steadying hand on my chest, meeting my eyes. "We can stop there, if you would like." Ever a gentleman.

I raised my eyebrows, shaking my head side-to-side. "No, I would not like." I took my eyes to his still clothed crotch, and back again.

His glistening face was covered in that smirk. Finally, he slid his breeches and smallclothes down his legs in one swoop, stepping out of them towards me. His co*ck stood up gloriously straight, against his impossibly taut body. Every muscle was visible beneath the perfect swath of skin before me. His prick stretched to his navel, tall and lean, like him. It would fit so perfectly in my mouth, I thought.

Solas thought differently. He wrapped his arms around me, kissing me, lifting me into the air. I wrapped my legs around his back. He pressed me up against the tree. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, cupping his velvety head in my hand. As he pressed the tip of his co*ck into my entrance I licked the roof of his mouth, and rubbed the back of his head. Gently he set me down onto his co*ck, sinking his length into me inch-by-satisfying-inch. It seemed never ending. He filled me gloriously with his rock hard length, giving me time to accommodate before moving inside of me slowly. My hips answered his, each thrust slow and deliberate, as if he wanted to feel every part of me. And, for me to feel every part of him.

I moved with him, languishing in his ability to stroke all the right parts. He set me back on the ground, spinning me around so that my backside was towards him. He pressed his lips to the juncture of my neck and shoulder, before his teeth delicately clamped down. I arched my back at his touch. His hands explored my breasts, fingertips found nipples. I closed my eyes, leaning against the tree with my arms raised over my head.

He trailed kisses from my neck down my back, over the curve of my ass which I wiggled in his face. He took the opportunity to bite down on the rounded flesh. I bit my lip looking at him over my shoulder. He rubbed his co*ck briefly against my buttocks, before sliding a finger into the wetness between my thighs. Making sure I was still wet enough to receive him, he placed the tip of his long co*ck between my legs again. I widened my stance to invite him to return. Snaking an arm around me, pressing his chest to my back, he slid inside of me again. Solas bit down on the juncture at the base of my neck and shoulder for a long moment as he sheathed himself to the hilt. I felt his long co*ck pulsate inside of me, snuggling back into him. His teeth clamped down harder on my neck, as a hand grabbed my hip. When I had stilled, his lips trailed up my neck to my ear.

Nibbling at my ear, Solas flicked my earlobe with the tip of his tongue before taking it between his teeth, nipping. I pressed my hips backwards into him again. This time, his hips followed. Together our bodies danced, urging each other towards spectacular pleasure. His breath grew heavy in my ear. I could feel his co*ck throb inside of me as his body began to hum against mine.

I pushed my hands against the tree, bending over to thrust my hips back at him. As I looked over my shoulder his mouth caught mine. Our tongues f*cked as hard as the rest of our bodies. He broke the kiss to bite down on my shoulder again. His hand dipped between my legs. Fingers found my swollen bud, circling it as he moved within me. The tremors started in us both. Faster he pumped into me. My insides clenched around him, holding him there as his thrusts and the grip of his teeth intensified. A rumbling growl bubbled up from deep within his chest.

With my eyes clenched tightly shut, my world burst into white light as he pitched my body over the edge into a roaring climax. The bite released. Solas howled a groan. We shuddered together, screaming org*sms into the night.

Chapter 11: Skyhold Watched Over Itself

Chapter Text

Chapter 11: Skyhold Watched Over Itself

The weird thing about having sex in the Fade, was that part of me felt like "it didn't count." Which, I knew wasn't true, but it kinda was.

I couldn’t help but wonder if I felt regret for what had happened.

The next morning, the awkwardness of waking up in camp together dissipated quickly. We rode through the day chatting comfortably. Eventually, the small-talk turned into passing glances.

"Would you like to walk with me a while? Give the horses a rest?" he asked, ever thoughtful of all the creatures in his presence.

As if it were a choice, I had stopped fighting the attraction I felt to Solas. My heart spent plenty of time fluttering as we walked side-by-side, reins in hand, horses trailing behind.

When our eyes met, I felt at ease. My worries seemed to slip away, running downstream to be the problems of another. I wanted to drown in him. But, he would not let me drown, any more than he would let me wallow in my guilt.

Solas put his hand on my arm. “I know where your heart lies. That is not what this was.”

“What was it?” I asked.

“Two good friends who are going through a very hard time, and needed to take solace in one another?” His fingertips trailed down my arm, taking my hand with a squeeze of reassurance. “Do you feel a little better?”

Electricity ran through my hand, up my arm straight through my heart. “I feel a lot better.” I squeezed back, looking him over. His body was lithe. It had wrapped itself around mine, a protective barrier from the world, the only thing keeping me safe from the monsters within and without.

Life was not simple. It was not in life's nature. My feelings for Solas seemed so simple in the moment, yet so complicated when I considered what they meant for my relationship with Cullen.

He brought the back of my hand up to his lips, laying a brief kiss there. “I am honored that you have shared that part of yourself with me.”

Well, that was gallant. All I could see were his lips, as if they had been framed and hung next to my bed.

He nudged my shoulder with his. “I will not take offense the next time you are distracted by his broad shoulders. He is lucky to have you. We will get this figured out. Until then, you have me." Solas held my gaze, exhaling a deep sigh. Studying me, his jaw relaxed. His breath quickened. His eyes travelled down my neck.

The image of his tongue dipping into the divot above my collarbone took my breath away.

"I did not hurt you did I?” His hand landed softly on my neck, fingertips gliding across skin a skater upon the ice.

On tip-toes, I placed my palms lightly on his chest, rising to meet his lips. He returned my kiss, almost reluctantly. I did not stay.

“You were not too rough. I enjoyed it.” I met his eyes, thinking, 'I want to do it again, already.'

That smirk returned. One arm snaked around me, a hand settling in the small of my back. Fingertips featherlight skimmed up my neck, across my cheek, igniting trails of affection on my face. "If I give in to you again, I fear I will never want to stop."

A confession. From one as tight-lipped as Solas, a confession I treasured, a fear understood.

~~~

That evening as we settled into camp, we set up our bedrolls as usual, on opposite sides of the campfire. Neither of us had wanted to keep our hands to ourselves all day.

"Remember, tonight we are going to Skyhold. Keep that in your mind as you drift off to sleep. Obviously, the wine last night was a mistake," Solas mentioned.

I caught his eye. "It was no mistake." Sadness tinged my words, unbidden. Cullen. I didn't want to hurt him. I loved him. That hadn't changed. But, what had changed? How could I love them both?

Solas slid onto the log next to me, his arm nestling warm against mine. "I know that you love him. I expect nothing of you."

A tear dripped down my face. "Everyone expects something of me."

Fingertips lifted my chin, asking me to face him. "No, he does not. And, neither do I. We will find him, Isabeau."

I nodded, wrapping my arms around Solas, choosing to believe him. He pulled me to the ground beside him, covering us with my bedding. I pillowed my head on his arm as he fit his body to mine behind. Enveloped in Solas, I drifted off to sleep.

~~~

Skyhold was much less difficult to find than I thought it was going to be. The Fade wanted me in Skyhold. I didn't know how that was true, but that did not make it any less so. Somehow, both Skyhold and the Fade seemed to call me home.

Everything was as I remembered it, but warped by the sickly green fog of the Fade. If I hadn’t spent so much time there I wouldn’t have noticed it. Between Solas and I, we knew Skyhold too well: the little details were filled in, like the inscription on the statues next to the main entrance, or how many stairs led from the tavern to the battlements above the portcullis: forty-four.
Whatever parts our memories didn’t fill in, like mortar between the stones, or cracks between the boards, the Fade filled in. The keep had the same eerie green glow as the sky here in the Fade.

Solas put a hand on my arm. “I hate to keep you in a constant state of high alert, but if a demon is going to take the opportunity to attack us, they will do it here. Do not let them take you by surprise. I have your back, Isabeau.”

“Thanks, Solas. I know you do.”

We crept through Fade Skyhold, careful not to kick a stray rock or back into a rickety piece of scaffolding. As we went up the front steps towards the Great Hall we heard music. The scaffolding I had expected was not in the Hall. Orlesian musicians were set up across from the fireplace: a violin, a concertina, three different sized flutes, a small percussion section with chimes, bells, and drums, and a singer with a lute. They were all masked and fantastically garbed in matching blues and golds. The dining tables were full. Some diners were Orlesian, some were not. Food was spread extravagantly across each of the four tables. Silver flatware had been set next to gold rimmed bone porcelain. Each table had a large ice sculpture centerpiece ringed with carved fruit.

All the chandeliers above were lit, floating above the tables, suspended by the Fade itself. Shadows danced in the corners, alcoves, and stairwells. Waiters waltzed through with Josephine’s favorite tiny cakes. I snagged a yellow petit four with pink flowers.

Solas scowled.

“What? I can eat cake in the Fade. The last time I was here I didn’t eat for a hundred and seventy three days.”

“You have not dreamt since you have been out of the Fade?” he asked, alarmed.

“No. I refused to go back.”

“Yet you have come now.”

I shrugged. “I feel safe with you, Solas.”

His smile was a sad one. “I will not disappoint you.”

“Good! I’m trusting you to get me out of here. Maker help me, if you leave me in
the Fade alone I will kill you with my bare hands when I get out.”

He laughed, a sound I was getting used to, one I don’t think I had ever heard until a few days ago.

“Do you recognize anyone?” I asked.

“I recognize everyone,” Solas answered.

“Yeah, me too.” I turned to him. “Is everyone from Skyhold hanging out in Fade Skyhold?”

“I think the world is very upset about what is happening. These people do not understand why they are not at Skyhold anymore. It has manifested by dreaming about being there when they have not even seen it yet.” Solas glanced around, taking mental notes about everyone he saw.

“That’s kind of how I feel too." I tried to ignore the glow of the Fade. "It does feel good to be back here."

“I am certain Dorian is here somewhere.”

“Agreed. You take the left side, I’ll take the right side,” I told him.

At the far end of the room, Josephine stood up from her seat near the head of the table. She wore an extravagant Orlesian ballgown, embroidered with shimmering metallic thread and delicate glass beads. “Inquisitor Isabeau Trevelyan!” She announced.

The chairs skittered against the floor in a cacophony of squeaks and creaks. The diners stood and applauded. I bowed my head in appreciation, striding towards her. “Josie, we need to talk.”

“I thought you’d never get here. When I dreamt about Skyhold I realized what had happened. What took you so long?” Josie whispered in a frantic huff.

Solas took my hand. I took hers. “Let us go to your quarters,” he said.

The three of us climbed the stairs quickly. We were all out of breath at the top.

“Solas is here too? Good.” She seemed relieved.

“Is anyone else here?” I asked.

“Not anyone that matters,” Josie answered. “Leliana is all different, wrong. I haven’t seen her here. And the one in Haven is not Leliana, at least not one I would have started this Inquisition with. She sounds more like the woman you spoke of meeting in Magister Alexius’ other world.”

“You’re right. I can’t even look at her without getting scared. Although, Leliana makes me feel that way a little bit all the time,” I admitted.

Josephine nodded. “She’s the most deadly person I know. You’re smart for seeing her that way. She’s a dangerous woman. But, this Leliana is reckless and angry. Well, angrier.”

“We need Dorian,” I told her.

“I’ve not seen him,” she told us.

“Have you checked Bull's room?” I asked.

She looked aghast. “No!”

“That’s where we’re going then,” I said.

“Why are there so many steps in the Fade?” Josie asked, in our trek across Skyhold. “And why do I still get so tired from them?”

“I hate this place,” I stated.

Solas took my hand, squeezing it, dragging me along. "We will not be here long. I promise."

We stopped at Dorian's room first, just in case. It was quiet and empty. His perfume decanters were perfectly arranged on the silver tray in front of his vanity mirror. Of course they were, because I knew he arranged them specifically from floral to woodsy, next by color of the bottles. I closed the door, shaking my head. “Let’s try Bull’s room.”

We walked the battlements to get to Bull’s quarters. The air was crisp and cold as it should be. Across the way I could see Cullen’s quarters, outlined in the green background of the Fade. Candlelight shined through the window. I wanted to go look, to feel like he was in there waiting for me. But, I had no reason to believe he would be.

There was no need to knock on Bull’s door. We could hear them talking on the other side of it. “Dorian!” I hollered.

“Beau,” he yelled back. The door sprung open. Dorian and Bull were barely dressed. Dorian wore blue samite pants that gathered at the ankles and had slits up the side baring wide swaths of leg. The Iron Bull wore a matching sarong. The bed sheets were bunched around the foot board. They were so happy together. The crap going on around us couldn’t even keep them apart.

Bull lounged on the bed.“Well, you’re a sight for sore eyes. What took you so long?”

“Bull just got here,” Dorian said. "Could you give us a few minutes?"

"Just a few?" Bull asked, an eyebrow co*cked above his eyepatch. Walking over to stand next to Dorian, grabbing a buttcheek as he got there, Bull said, “Qunari don’t really go to the Fade. They train all the dreaming out of you at a very young age.”

“That’s sad,” I said. “Everything you’ve ever told me about the Qunari sounds horrible.”

“Why do you think I’m Tal Vashoth?”

Dorian butted back in. “I saw Josephine arrive yesterday. I am surprised it took the two of you so long. You’re together in Haven, back outside of the Fade, right?”

“We were,” Solas answered. “Now, we are heading towards Tevinter to get you."

“Where in Thedas are you two currently?” I asked.

“I’m on the road from Tevinter to Haven right now,” Dorian said. “I woke up in the southernmost brothel in Tevinter. Nice place. Very famous and remote. ‘Vints don’t live that close to Nevarra normally. It’s a little touristy for me. Also, there were no Qunari there. Go figure.”

“A Qunari prostitute in Tevinter? Sounds like an opera,” Bull remarked.

“Well, we are on our way to get you. We left Haven a couple of days ago,” I told him.

“The Chargers and I left the Storm Coast immediately setting out to intersect with Dorian coming from Tevinter.” Bull said.

“That’s in the wrong direction from Haven,” Josephine said.

“He’s alone,” Bull said, putting his arms around Dorian's shoulders from behind.

“Oh!” Josephine exclaimed. “I didn’t know it was that serious.”

I patted her on the shoulder. “You spend too much time in your office.”

“It is quite warm in there,” she said.

“We should round up everyone we can, see if they have memories of the previous iterations," I suggested.

Dorian put his hand on my arm. “From the look on your face, I can see that Cullen is not among us.”

I shook my head. “No, he’s a demon. Cassandra, and Leliana are all wrong. Maybe they’re demons too. I don’t know. Varric is fine though. He’s at Haven. No one else has shown up yet.”

“I’ll trade horses in the next town,” Dorian said.

“Get a hart south of Tevinter,” Solas recommended.

“Oh, if you insist it will be faster,” Dorian scoffed.

“I assure you, it will,” Solas retorted.

I tugged on Solas's sleeve, wondering how to ask him about using the Eluvian to pick up Dorian without obviously mentioning the secret portal.

I heard Solas' voice in my mind, confirming what I had come to expect the last few days. That f*cking elf could read my mind. "He is too far South. He will have to take the road." Solas voice curled inside my head like fog rolling in over a pond.

“Dorian, I think we need to collect everyone we can with memories of the previous Inquisition, and try to see if we can pull everyone back into where we’re supposed to be," I said.

“We can’t possibly get everyone from Haven who lives and has an awareness of what’s going on to get back to Skyhold,” Dorian said.

“He is right, Isabeau. We can try to get all of us, but getting all the civilians will be impossible." Solas put a hand on my arm.

“Yeah, that sounds about right. Okay, does anyone else have any suggestions?” I asked.

Dorian curled his moustache back into place. “I don’t like messing with this time magic. But, I don’t see that we have much of a choice. We have to try.”

“You have to try,” I told him. “You’re the only one of us who has successfully used it, which you can remember now, right?”

“Yes,” he answered. “I can recall the time we got stuck in that warped world of red lyrium. I think I can replicate the spell. But, I will only do it once more. If it goes awry I’m afraid of getting us into something so foreign we’ll just be fighting to get back the rest of our lives. We don’t want that, do we?”

“Do I want to get into more and more perverse versions of what’s going on in this world? No. Do I want to get back to a world where Cullen is trying to figure out how to propose marriage? Yes!”

“Oh, come now. You don’t know anything about that,” Dorian said, dismissively.

“He’s written to my mother twice now. Why else would he invite her to Skyhold unless he was planning to ask her for my hand in marriage?”

Dorian twirled his moustache. “I don’t think we should comment on the man’s intentions.”

“You know about it." Dorian's tone of voice could only mean one things. "He asked you for advice didn’t he?”

“Stop talking, Beau,” Dorian said.

“I just need a minute. I’m going to go take a walk, okay. I’ll catch up with you later, Solas.”

Solas put a hand on my arm. “Be careful. There could be demons lurking anywhere, behind the face of anyone.”

I covered his hand with mine. “I know,” I said seriously. “I was here for a hundred and seventy three days. I remember where demons come from.” I let his hand slide out from under my grasp as I walked away.

I needed to clear my head. Going to Cullen’s office felt like a bad idea, but I didn’t know where else to go, and I was looking right at it.

How could I do this to him? I loved him. I wanted to marry him! And, here I was f*cking Solas and pining for his touch. Hm, could I get both of them to touch me at the same time?

No! Isabeau, what are you thinking? This all felt so absurd. I had gotten trapped in the Fade, after soaking myself in a pool of water where I dedicated myself to an ancient Elven goddess. Then, I had been rescued by Cullen, the love of my life, brought back to a world where I had never existed. Now I was trapped in a completely different world where Cullen was a demon, and I was having sex in the Fade and lusting after Solas, who seemed to be equally as enamored with me.

None of this was happening. Surely, I had never been removed from the madness of the Fade in the first place. I would walk into Cullen's office to find a demon Cullen who would try, and possibly succeed at, seducing me, because apparently I just had sex in the Fade with anyone.

When I opened the door, light streamed out. All three of the candelabras were lit. The green bottle of Thedas he had knocked over and broken our first time together sat in the center of his desk. Papers and folders were neatly stacked in a pile on each end. His lyrium kit sat open next to the wine. I walked over, fingering the vial of bright blue liquid. It was full.

“I haven’t taken any,” said a dull, flat voice behind me.

My heart swelled. I reminded myself it was probably a demon that was going to try to eat my face before turning around. He stood there, the door to the catwalk open behind him. His golden-amber eyes were his own. He looked sleepless, haggard.

“Cullen,” fell out of my mouth.

He looked at me, but through me. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit." His words were clipped and soft.

I approached him slowly, watching his face. "Cullen, it's me, Isabeau. I came to find you. Cullen, is that you? Where are you?"

His face twitched as his eyes focused on me. He took a deep breath.

Hope.

Squashing it as quickly as it had shown up, his face collapsed back into ruin.

"Cullen, I'm not a demon." I reached for his coin I wore on a necklace. It wasn't there. He hadn't given it to me yet in this world.

Anger flashed in his eyes, as briefly as hope. "You are always a demon." I could hear his heart crack. How long had he been here? How many pieces were left to fall off?

"Cullen, you have this lucky coin. The only thing you took with you when you joined the Templars. You were just a boy." I took another step towards him.

The anger flickered.

I stopped in my tracks. I didn't want to provoke him. Could he hurt me here, in the Fade? Would I hurt him? No. I would never hurt him.

Oh, but how wrong I was. My heart, too, continued to crumble.

"Do you remember giving it to me? Standing on that tiny little dock in the Hinterlands? We had gotten away from Skyhold during the lyrium withdrawal. You threw your kit at me. You were horrified. I remember the pain in your eyes. It looked a lot like how you're looking at me right now."

His chin quivered. Tears spilled over. "Beau-Beau?"

I nodded. Cullen opened his arms. I ran to him. He was warm, familiar and felt like home.

“Where have you been?” he asked, his cheek pressed against my hair on the side of my head.

“Haven.”

“Why did you go back there?” His embrace was firm, his voice weary.

“I— I didn’t have a choice. I woke up there again, in the dungeon.”

“What do you mean? Who put you there? Have you been captured?” His hands cupped my face. He held me out to look at me.

“No, I’m reliving our time at Haven, sort of.” I let my eyes drift closed at his touch.

“Isabeau, I’m trapped here, in the Fade. I don’t know how I got here. It’s like I’m stuck in a nightmare.” His eyes darted to and fro, the familiar dance of being on high alert.

My mouth went dry. “That’s what happened to your memories. The Nightmare demon stole them.”

“Nightmare demon?” He looked thoroughly confused.

“What’s the last thing you remember?” I asked him.

“I remember dreaming about you, going to rescue you from the Fade. I couldn’t remember certain things about you. I felt off. But, here it’s all so clear.” He grabbed me, crushed me to his chest, and kissed me.

Urgency roiled from his lips. In that moment, everything felt right. My world came together in his arms. He made me feel capable of tackling anything that came my way. And, I had to tell him what I had done, betrayed him in a moment of weakness and helplessness. But, not here. He needed hope. I would break his heart another time.

“Isabeau, what’s wrong?” he asked, holding me out to look at me again.

Few things went unnoticed under Cullen's watch.

“I just hope we can get this figured out. Solas, Dorian, Bull, and Josephine are all here too.” I saw his eyes flick to the lyrium. “Cullen, why is the lyrium on the desk?”

“Surely, to torture me.” His pupils narrowed as he glared at the vial behind me. “I can hear it singing.”

I stood between him and the magic enhancing concoction, taking his surcoat in my hands, tugging on his shoulders. “Cullen, don’t give in to it.” I shook him gently until he looked at me. He almost looked through me. His eyes begged to know when we would get back to our lives again. “I’ll get rid of it for you.”

“It won’t matter,” he said, his voice sad and flat, that of a man defeated. “Everytime I get rid of it, it’s on the desk again when I get back to my office."

“Then, don’t come here. Go to my room, our room." I put a hand to his cheek, looking wistfully towards the place I had just come from. “Why are there so many stairs in this place?” I shouted.

He put a hand over mind, taking it in his, pressing a kiss to my palm. “At least I know it’s you now.”

“Cullen,” my heart twisted in my chest.

Leaning forward, he kissed me, my solid foundation. This Cullen was not a demon. But, he was trapped bodily in the Fade, just like I had been.

“It’s you,” he whispered, his lips quivering.

I squeezed his body to mine. “It is. But, I’m only dreaming, Cullen. I didn’t know you were here. But, I’ll come back for you. I promise.”

Wearily, his voice grew solemn. “I’m just grateful it’s really you. When it’s a demon I always know the moment they open their mouths.”

I managed a small laugh. “That’s how I knew too.” He rested his cheek against my head, sighing. We stood that way for quite some time.

Thoughts of Solas and I together, not long ago, raced through my mind. Shame took root in my heart, roommates with guilt and dread.

“I love you,” he said, pressing a kiss to the side of my head.

As much as I wanted to, I couldn't say it back to him. Not at this time. It wasn't a lie. However, it wasn't what needed said. How could I profess my love for him in one breath, and withhold the truth in the next?

“I don’t have many answers. But, at least I know where you are now. Let’s go find the others and fill them in.” I tugged his hand in the direction of the rotunda. He followed, his shoulders slumped. I put my arm around him. He hugged me to his side with a small grunt.

~~~

My heart pounded, my stomach flipped when I saw Solas as I walked into his office, the Rotunda, arm-in-arm with Cullen. I know that Solas and I had an understanding. I felt sick at what I had done, mostly because I couldn’t bring myself to regret it. I felt Solas and I had taken our friendship to another level, earned another layer of trust and respect, one that was desperately needed.

Cullen could sleep with Zunyla and we’d be even. But, she was currently dead, and I didn’t think that’s how any of this malarkey worked. My head was a wreck. I needed Dorian and a bottle of wine. Non-Tevinter wine. (Lucky for me, Dorian prefers his wine like he prefers his men, non-Tevinter. As Dorian says, "'Vint wine and 'Vint men are for the bourgeoisie.")

I reached for the bottle on Solas’ desk. He snatched it away from me. “Don’t drink that, Isabeau.”

I sighed.

“This is raw lyrium." Solas said, dangling the bottle from his delicate fingers. "We are in the Fade, remember?”

I stretched my neck side-to-side cracking it. “Yeah, I do. Okay. I’m fine. This is fine. Everything is fine.”

Cullen rubbed my back the way he did when I needed comforted or settled.

“You found him!” Dorian exclaimed as he and Bull entered from the library above. Now, the 'Vint wine and the 'Vint man were both in the room.

“She did,” Cullen said, glancing down at me.

Dorian hugged Cullen. “And you’re you, not the blue-eyed monster.”

Cullen’s face scrunched up in confusion. "What's the blue-eyed monster?"

“The Cullen back in Haven is a demon,” waved Dorian.

“You are you, indeed,” Solas said, approaching.

My heart lurched, threateningly.

“It’s one of reasons he’s so strange,” said Josephine. “His eyes are always watching me. I don’t like it. I knew it wasn’t you, Cullen.”

“But, that raises some other questions. I wonder if Cassandra and Leliana are stuck here too. They’re not quite themselves back in Haven either,” I reminded everyone.

“I haven’t seen them,” Cullen answered. “I haven’t seen anyone else until I found Isabeau in my office.”

“Cullen, where were you before you walked in and saw me standing at your desk?” I asked.

He shook his head trying to clear the cobwebs. “I can’t remember. I thought I was already in my office. But, I remember walking in and seeing you there.”

Solas vigorously turned pages in a book on his desk. Slamming it closed, he muttered under his breath, collapsing in a chair.

“I’m at a loss here, boss. I wish I could beat this problem into submission for you,” the Iron Bull said.

“Thanks, Bull." Cullen clapped his friend on the back. "Certainly, there will be something for you to beat into submission in no time.”

“I think I’m going to go upstairs and do some reading,” Dorian said. “Hopefully, the library will cooperate.” He emphasized the word 'library,' talking about the library like it was a person. Dorian was proud of his Tevinter section of the library. It was a section Solas regularly borrowed from.

Bull squeezed me in a one-armed hug. Then, taking Dorian’s hand, they went upstairs.

“I suppose it’s almost morning,” Josephine said. "It's strange being so aware in a dream. Is this what it's like all the time for you, Solas?"

“Yes, it is,” Solas said, running his hand across his brow.

He was sweating! In the Fade? Solas was as nervous as I was; this was not a good sign.

“Cullen, in theory I should be able to tear open the Fade and come find you." I told him. "If I can close them, I should be able to open them, right?" I asked, turning to Solas.

"Isabeau," Solas said with a reluctant look. "I'm afraid the time that would take is precious right now. We need to focus on trying to get back where we're supposed to be. If you’re stuck bodily in the Fade time will pass differently for you. There’s no telling how long it will take back in the waking world while we journey into the Fade again. We were in there searching for you for what felt like a day. And when we arrived back on the other side of the Veil nearly a week had passed.”

I needed clarification. “You mean, you want me to leave him in here until after we get this sh*tstorm figured out?” I must have had steam coming out of my ears.

“I’m afraid so.” Solas had the propriety to look apologetic.

“I will not leave Cullen in the Fade!” I yelled, my voice echoing off the walls.

“Isabeau, I know you’ll come for me.” Cullen took my hand between both of his. “Can you please, just try listening to Solas.”

"No, I—" I hung my head. He was right. “Yes, I’ll make sure it’s safe when I come for you.”

“That’s my girl,” he said with a squeeze of my hand, pulling me back into his arms.

I almost had to actually bite my tongue to stop from crying. "That's my girl." That wouldn't be true soon. Not when he found out. I had to tell him. But, not now. Soon though. It was eating me from the inside. I would get him out of the Fade first.

“Thank you,” said Solas.

I smiled. He smiled, sort of.

“You two go enjoy your time together. I will come get you when it is time for us to go,” Solas waved dismissively.

“No way,” said Cullen. “We’re going to try to figure this out together. Isabeau and I will have the rest of our lives together. Give me a book.”

Solas handed him a thin black journal. “It belonged to a magister who had some of the same ideas as Alexius. I have read it sixty eight times. Maybe a fresh pair of eyes will help.”

“You can head up to the library,” I told Cullen, squeezing his hand.

He pulled me in for a quick kiss, then took the book upstairs to find Dorian and Bull.

“Solas, I need to talk to you,” I said quietly, standing next to his desk.

“Yes?” He put the book down and looked up at me.

“The Nightmare stole his memories,” I told Solas.

He nodded. “I figured as much when you brought him in.”

“He’s going to work so hard to get them all back. And then, I have to tell him. I have to tell him and it’s going to break his heart and I’m freaking out here. I’m going to lose him, but not until I after I rescue him from the Fade. Then, I tell him and break his heart and I’ll never get him back. I’ve ruined everything! Solas, I'm freaking out here!” My chest heaved, my vision grew blurry.

“Tell me what?” he said, coming back downstairs. “I heard you yelling. I thought I’d see why you were still so upset.”

“I really thought I was being quiet,” I grumbled, rubbing a hand across my eyes.

Solas put his hands on my shoulders. "Speak to him." He turned to Cullen. “Excuse me,” Solas nodded, exiting to the catwalk outside.

I peaked at the loft upstairs. Dorian was standing at the railing conspicuously.

“Cullen, I didn’t want to tell you this until after I’d gotten you out of the Fade.” Tears streamed down my face. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

“Isabeau, are you trying to tell me it’s over between us?” He reached out, putting a hand on Solas’ desk to steady himself.

“No! No, I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. But, I think after I tell you this you’re going to feel differently about that.” My brain scrambled for purchase my mouth could not find.

He thought it would be okay. “There’s nothing you could—”

I held up my hand. I couldn't let him say another word. The glass I had been carrying around on the tray of my heart toppled, shattering on the stone floor into countless miniscule shards.

“Stop. Don’t say that. I slept with Solas.”

His face crumbled. “I see.” He looked at me, uncried tears in his eyes. He strode past me, out the door to the catwalk. Solas stood right outside the door, as if he had been waiting for Cullen.

“Do you love her?” Cullen demanded.

“Not like you love her,” Solas answered plainly. “It is not always about love.”

I heard Dorian say, “That’s true,” above me in support. Then, I heard the Iron Bull thump him on the chest and Dorian's sharp exhale followed by a few quick coughs.

“If you broke her heart . . .” Cullen’s voice was deep, tinted with rage.

“You will have to ask Isabeau that question, I am afraid,” Solas replied. "I certainly have no intentions of hurting either her or you, in all honesty, if it is of any consequence."

Cullen took a deep breath, then a deeper breath. “Why her, Solas?” Cullen asked, trying to stop his voice from cracking.

Solas stood tall in front of Cullen, his face impassive. “I think you, of all people, know 'why her?'" He looked at me. "She is magnanimous and magnificent."

That attraction I could not fight grew three sizes in that moment. I did not understand how I could find myself caring so much for both of these men who stood before me. But, I could not deny my feelings for them. My heart was torn.

I did not know how I would go on.

Fortunately, I did not have to figure out any of that, in this moment.

Solas turned to Cullen. "We were both hurting. Zunyla had just died at the Conclave, again perhaps? I cannot know," Solas mumbled, looking into the distance of the green sky of the Fade. "Isabeau had just suffered a crushing defeat at the hands of someone we thought was you. The demon was ruthless, spiteful. Wearing your skin, he hurt her, bodily and psychically, if you must know."

After, Solas stared into the sky for a few long moments. I followed his gaze. He watched a large black cloud in the distance. The longer I looked at it, the more it looked like some sort of city skyline, its music playing softly in the back of my mind.

Cullen's eyes met mine. I watched the cracks spread across his heart. I watched the pieces of it fall to the ground. There in the Fade, I heard my life crumble around me. The demons had tortured us both into believing we didn't love each other anymore. Had they pushed me away from Cullen to Solas? How would I get any semblance of my life back?

Solas' steely gaze met Cullen's again. Solas softened, while Cullen's countenance hardened.

"You heard her a moment ago." Solas' eyes flicked to mine. "I was trying to pick up the pieces of her heart and shove them back somewhere useful." His gaze returned to Cullen. "So that we could come here to find you. She is struggling to hold it together, yet you are the foremost thought on her mind.”

Solas turned to me. “My apologies for talking about you like you are not here.”

I wiped at my eyes with the palms of my hands. “Thanks,” I said through a sniffle. “Look this is all my fault."

"Isabeau, I was not finished," Solas reprimanded me, curt yet polite. "Cullen, Isabeau places you on a pedestal, against the admonition of plenty of her peers. She will be returning promptly for you, of that we can both be certain. Against both of our recommendations, as if she cares about any counsel she receives."

"Look, here," I interrupted, flailing my arms. "I’m sorry to involve both of you in the extra-extra-f*cked-up version of my life. I haven't followed most of the counsel I've received my entire life, okay? So don't you two think you're special because now you've both banged me. Let's all be f*cking adults here for, like two minutes."

I couldn't help but put my hands on my hips, as I stared at them through the doorway. They were perfectly framed, standing next to one-another, my two little lovers wrapped up in a bow.

Holy Andraste, I was going to be sick to my stomach.

I bent over, resting my hands on my knees, my elbows locked. Within the span of a heartbeat they were both at my sides, shouting "Isabeau" simultaneously. Neither of them had chosen 'Beau' or 'Beau-Beau,' not even an 'Inquisitor.'

"Get off me!" I stood, shaking their grips from my arms. "Look here, I'm in charge of me. I decide where I'm going and when. When I wake up, in Maker forsaken Thedas, I'm going to get Solas' extra canteen of water, I'm going to wave my glowing f*cking hand around in the air, and get my ass back into the Fade, where I'm going to find Cullen and bring him back with me. And, if that takes me a f*cking week to accomplish, Solas, you will take care of everything else that needs taking care of.

And, the last time I checked, you two voted along with a dozen f*cking other people to put me in charge of things around here. And, just because we're in Fade Skyhold doesn't mean that that has changed. So, I'm in charge of you two as well, which means you double don't get to tell me what to do. Okay? Dorian, hold my staff."

"You don't have a staff, Inquisitor," Dorian shouted from the second floor.

"That's my 'Vint, folks." I gestured with an open palm up to the loft. I looked back and forth at both Cullen and Solas. I had never before seen looks of more shock.

"My apologies, Inquisitor," Solas said, succinctly.

"Look, I know you're never going to listen to my opinion, Isabeau—" Cullen started.

"Oh," I cut him off. "I listen. I always listen to you. I am sorry that I hurt you." I made him look me in the eyes. "I'm sorry. It breaks my heart to tell you. It breaks my heart that I did it. But, I thought you were dead. And, I can't live in that world."

Silently, tears fell from the rims of my eyes. "I can't go on if you . . . are dead. I can't."

Cullen squeezed my hand.

"I have to come get you, right now. Nothing else matters." I looked up, hoping to meet Cullen's eyes. "Just that you're okay."

Cullen took my shaking fingers in his hand, kissing my fingertips. I think he too, was shaking.

"Look, Cullen, I know that this is a really big deal breaker. But, I’m getting ready to watch five hundred people die, again, at Haven. And, the weight of that is really f*cking me up! What I wanted to do was jump off my balcony and never have to tell you this. But, in the Fade you can jump off the balcony and not get hurt. So add that to the list of f*cked up sh*t I’m trying to file away to think about coping with later.”

Cullen looked alarmed. “You jumped off the balcony, Isabeau?” My hand still in his, he tried to pull me towards him.

I snatched my hand away in recoil. “Yes. I did. I figured if jumping off my balcony in the Fade was going to be my last act, so be it. I wanted it to be done. You weren't here. There were just demons wearing your face. Everywhere, they wore your face. I can feel them, tapping at the corners of my mind, but I know how to keep them out now.” The tears stopped falling. I patted my face dry. “I just wanted it all to be over.”

I stood there, realizing how terrified I had been after the hundred and seventy-three days I had been in the Fade. Only, I didn't know it had been a hundred and seventy-three days. There was no day or night in the Fade.

In the Fade, there was only green.

“Beau-Beau . . .” Cullen’s voice was cracked and broken, the same way I felt inside. “Please, don’t hurt yourself.” The breath seemed to leave his lungs as they deflated.

I met his gaze. His face crumpled, as did his shoulders.

"It was awful," I remembered. "When that demon looked at me, again using your face. Only this time, it wasn't the Fade. But, suddenly I couldn't be sure anymore. It felt just like the Fade, actually. But, it wasn't." I looked around the room. I could see the green between the cracks. I could see the Fade now. I knew it. I could touch it. I reached out, green crackled from my fingertips. "It wore your face, and I'm going to kill it. I'm not afraid anymore."

I reached for him then. He grabbed my hand, the green lightning crackling between us, wrenching my fingers momentarily as he pulled me, haphazardly to his chest; he wasn't going to let me deny him this time. He held me tight as I tried to pull away, only momentarily. I threw my arms around him, burying my face into his shirt.

“Cullen, I’m sorry. You deserve someone who doesn’t kill half a village with her ineptitude, or cheat on the man she loves when things get hard. I make bad decisions and they don’t need to be your responsibility any longer.” I looked up at him. I had never seen him look so helpless. “I guess I am ending things between us. I’m sorry. Of course I’m going to set this world right side up again, and get you out of the Fade. We’ll find Zunyla alive and she can be Inquisitor, and I’ll get out of everyone’s way.”

I turned, to head out towards the Great Hall to my quarters. He held fast to my hand. Without a backwards glance, I tugged. Cullen's hand released mine.

When I entered the Great Hall, the sea of joyous people parted. I didn’t hear the music, or the chatter, or the scraping of chair legs on stone floors being pushed away from tables.

In the Fade, I only heard the beating of the war drum of my heart, and the song of that cloud city outside.

Before I knew it, I was standing on my balcony, overlooking Skyhold, reveling in the cold air up here at the highest point, towering a couple of hundred feet above the bailey below. I prefered the side that overlooked the Frostbacks. But, during the day I usually stood on the other side to watch over Skyhold, even though it felt like Skyhold watched over itself.

In this moment, everything seemed normal. I could remember what the blue sky looked like. I could see a sky that didn't have a city of black clouds singing off in the distance.

Snow fell.
Wind blew.
I cried.
I died a little on the inside
because I had been holding on
too tightly.

I had lost him. I had lost myself, too. Here, I stood
craving vengeance against a desire demon that had stalked me wearing
Cullen's visage.

I hadn’t been able to look in a mirror since coming out of the Fade.

I did not recognize myself.

I do not know who I am anymore.

I looked scared all the time. It made me cry harder. I rested my elbows on the railing, holding my face in my hands. I let the tears fall: frustration, exhaustion, pity, shame, fear. They fell, sins upon my chest. I knew not how to free myself from them, only how to silence them.

“I’ll jump with you,” said a warm, firm voice behind me.

Then, I woke up.

Chapter 12: Elfroot & Lavender

Chapter Text

Chapter 12: Elfroot & Lavender

Cullen

"Stop. Don’t say that. I slept with Solas. I slept with Solas. I slept with Solas. I slept with Solas."

Isabeau echoed in his mind: her words, the tears in her eyes, the sorrow in her face. Even in the Fade he could not find it in his heart to be angry or cross with her. She hadn't said she was leaving him to be with Solas, or that she didn't love him any longer. Honestly, his anger was much more directed toward Solas, though it seemed unfounded.

He kept replaying the moment he came back downstairs when Isabeau had raised her voice at Solas. Originally, he thought they were fighting. Curiosity got the better of him, though he knew Isabeau was trying to get rid of him to speak with Solas in the first place. He had decided not to let her push him away, especially not if he could help.

Upon reflection, it was selfish of him. He had stuck his nose in where it didn't belong. However, he could not bear to be away from Isabeau again so soon if she might need him. In the first moment when he saw Isabeau panicking at Solas, he knew it was a lover's quarrel. That was the same tone of voice, the same look on Isabeau's face that had been directed at him on more than one occasion.

In the next breath she was hopeless. Tears overflowed her eyes. Cullen had never seen her look so utterly defeated. She was neither smug nor in love with someone else. Isabeau had betrayed herself. Guilt had ripped through her like an ulcer. She had wanted Cullen to end it with her, something she could not find the strength to do herself.

Refusal was Cullen's knee-jerk reaction, refusal to believe that she didn't love him anymore simply because she had been intimate with Solas. He could understand any lust she felt for the man. Solas was handsome, charming, and one of the most adroit mages he had ever seen. Though he was in love with a mage, he could not forget what the Templars had taught him: that powerful mages were often attracted to other powerful mages, at least on some level. It was the nature of magic.

Try as he might, Cullen could not picture Isabeau falling out of love him. That, too, felt like a selfish notion after what she had admitted to doing with Solas. However, Cullen had always considered himself a good judge of character. He felt he knew Isabeau. It had been a long time since she had truly surprised him. Isabeau had routines and schedules. She didn't deviate much from her norm unless absolutely necessary, and generally only for "business" purposes.

Certainly, she had people with whom she preferred to keep company. Varric, Dorian, and the Iron Bull had become her regular travelling companions. Though, whenever Varric was away on "official Viscount business," which Cullen was sure Varric invented, Solas had joined her, Dorian, and Bull on the road. He had suggested she take Cassandra as a more suitable replacement, but it seemed that when Varric went missing, Cassandra did too.

Ah, there it was! The kind of detail that usually escaped him. He could see it now. The stolen glances, the early turning in during a night of revelry. Cassandra and Varric were . . . well, what they were doing was none of his business. Everyone needed a way to blow off steam. He knew that regular sex had certainly helped him to function better during the day under the amount of stress which they had constantly been under.

This was the kind of stress that had nearly broken him in Kirkwall. Fortunately, Meredith had snapped before him, and he was able to sort his thoughts and take command when he was needed. But, he hadn't even been close to snapping this time. He hadn't even thought about lyrium in months, not with Isabeau around. As long as she was there, nothing else really mattered.

She hadn't said she didn't love him. Maybe she still loved him. Maybe she had no emotional attachment to Solas. Maybe it was a one-time moment of weakness, a time when she needed someone to be there for her, the way he usually was. Only he didn't even exist in that world, and she felt trapped in the Fade. He was trapped in the Fade. He knew what desperation and hopelessness felt like. He was there.

Cullen tried shaking those thoughts from his mind. He needed to keep his mind on Isabeau. She calmed him, even if those thoughts were Solas tinged now. Perhaps, she had previously purposefully avoided Solas due to an attraction she felt to him. That was something she would do.

Her chief complaint about travelling with Solas was that he was too quiet. He didn't share around the campfire or on the road even half as much as Dorian, Varric, or Bull, which is why Isabeau did most of her travelling with that trio. Curiosity was bound to get the better of her sooner or later. Maybe he had opened up to her. He could see how she would be drawn to that.

Just because she had never been close to Solas, did not mean, she had not fallen for him, too. He had to keep that in mind. What would it mean if she were in love with Solas?

Once again, they had been ripped apart by this mysterious time magic that kept interrupting their lives. After spending all of this time trapped in the Fade, apart from her again, he refused to return back to their lives at Skyhold to live them apart. He did not believe she would want that. Not after seeing her face.

When Isabeau decided to feel her heart, she wore it on her sleeve.

After her desperate departure from the Rotunda, Cullen had followed her up to her quarters, out to her balcony where he was afraid she might try to jump again. What torture had she endured to attempt to end her own life by leaping from her balcony hundreds of feet above the castle bailey below? His eyes had settled onto the small of her back. As he reached for her, she simply vanished. He leaned against the railing, mourning her loss, again.

***

"Stop. Don’t say that. I slept with Solas. I slept with Solas. I slept with Solas. I slept with Solas."

The Fade had showed him the memory over and over again, as it was wont to do, often following with the memory of his time trapped during Uldred's occupation of Kinloch Hold. During her time trapped in the Fade, Isabeau must have found the memory of his time trapped in Kinloch Hold, as he listened to the deaths of mages and Templars at the hands of Senior Enchanter Uldred. Again, it came rushing back to him. The memory of Isabeau finding him at Kinloch Hold was overlapped on top of the original memory. They were one and the same now.

Cullen cowered, in that glistening cage, the desire demon hovering in front of him. It had taken Isabeau's form. He didn't recognize her at the time of course, but she had been there. The Nightmare remembered Isabeau, even though it hadn't happened yet. She had reached for him. Bolts of energy shot out from where her hand came into contact with the barrier erected over him. However, she was not injured by it. The Fade had already become such a big part of her.

Even here, her hand glowed more brightly than anything else in the Fade. It's as if she held the essence of the accursed place inside of herself, reminding Cullen that he had long feared the mark on her hand would end up harming her as time went on.

When the demon tried to stop her from speaking to him, she had trapped it in a magical prison of her own without so much as even a staff. Cullen remembered being both impressed and afraid, while somehow knowing she would not hurt him. Obviously, she was there to check on him. Even then, before they had ever met, he knew her.

In one breath she had comforted him. "You're going to be okay. Trio's coming for you." In the next, she pleaded for his help. "Cullen, I'm stuck in the Fade. I need you to come find me." She would come for him. Of that he was certain.

***

"Stop. Don’t say that. I slept with Solas. I slept with Solas. I slept with Solas. I slept with Solas."

What one demon in the Fade knew, all the demons in the Fade knew. Desire danced Isabeau before him, but it could not change her intentions. Every time the Fade brought Isabeau's image to him, at least initially, she almost seemed like Isabeau.

He always knew as soon as the demon opened its mouth that it was not, in fact, Isabeau. But, after that, the Fade knew Isabeau well enough, that he would forget for a time, that it wasn't her. Eventually, he found he enjoyed the time with any Isabeau he could get.

He had met Isabeau time and time again. He knew that now. The Nightmare demon had stolen his memories when he had travelled through the Fade, the many times he had travelled through time to find Isabeau. The memories had called to him while he was here in the Fade. They wanted to be found.

Cullen had spent plenty of time running from the demons, cowering in search of cover. After Isabeau had found him in his office, he was afraid no longer. She instilled courage and determination in him. Since she had left him alone on her balcony, he had searched endlessly, sleeplessly for the Nightmare demon.

The Nightmare demon had threatened Isabeau's escape from the Fade before, when he had come for her while she was trapped here. He knew what it looked like, what it smelled like, how big it was. There were few places it could hide. The corpuscular demon was not hard to track once he started looking.

When Cullen found the Nightmare, it was almost as if it had been looking for him too. He could feel the aura of memories with which it had surrounded itself. Mirages of Isabeau danced in front of him: her face looking up at him from where she sat on the couch in the cottage while she nursed him through the lyrium withdrawal, the hope as she waited for him to answer her after she had asked if he would accompany her to the Trevelyan Harvestmere Ball, the tears in her eyes when they had secretly eloped in Orlais. Lifetimes upon lifetimes of memories. Over and over again they had found each other, only to be ripped apart by time magic, to find each other yet again.

Stolen moments in time were returned to him as he came face-to-face with the Nightmare demon. Lifetime upon lifetime folded back onto each other. How many times had they met and fallen in love?

He did not kill it. He had wanted to, but it wasn't necessary to regain what it had taken from him. And, he thought it more important to live another day, even though there was no day or night in the Fade, in case it was the only way to regain other memories.

***

"Stop. Don’t say that. I slept with Solas. I slept with Solas. I slept with Solas. I slept with Solas."

The desire demon's hips had more of a sway than Isabeau's. One morning, she had put on lip stain, and worn her hair down instead of braided. He always watched the top of the steps, over his left shoulder while he faced the front gate, receiving dispatches. The scent of her shampoo, elfroot and lavender, announced her arrival before his eyes caught her bootheel hit the stone. Every step she took down towards him, was the most erotic thing he had ever seen. And, he had read every issue of the Randy Dowager.

When she finally reached him, after looking everywhere besides at him, he had gotten to stare at her for an entire stairway before her gaze settled on him. He watched her scan the gate for both portcullises and the intact wooden gate. Her eyes flicked to her beloved mounts, Lily and Rosebud at the stables. When she would see either Blackwall or Horsemaster Dennet her eyes would flick quickly over him, towards the infirmary tents, then up the staircase towards the tavern to see if anyone else was descending. She was meticulous in scanning her surroundings whenever she entered a room.

Skyhold was her room. Every day since they had arrived, he watched her watch everyone else. She may not have known all of their names, but she knew every face in the keep, and knew who they reported to. She hadn't even been named Inquisitor yet.

That was the day he knew he was already in love with her.

They had sparred at Haven a few times. He had always felt like there seemed to be an extra spark between them. But, he didn't want to read anything into innocent battle training, which was in fact his job. Which was why she was coming to him for sparring practice.

True, she could have gone to Cassandra, or the Iron Bull. Both were equally capable, and had plenty of free time. She could have sparred with Solas, another mage, and equally as capable of hand-to-hand combat, as he had displayed on several occasions. But, no. She came to him.

It was his job. He would in no way make an advance on a subordinate. It was improper no matter if this wasn't the Templar Order. Some rules deserved being followed.

But, when she laid on top of him that last time, his heart had pounded to get out of the prison of his chest. It had tried to burst through his ribs, which she had cracked landing on him as her staff slipped out of her hands.

She had apologized profusely. He assured her it was an accident, and there was no apology necessary. She had insisted that she had never had anything just slip through her hands accidentally in any fight before, and that she had trained extensively in hand-to-hand combat previously.

He had assured her that her training was evident. And, that accidents happen to everyone. He had insisted he had knocked the staff out of her hand, which he was in fact trying to do. He suspected he had in fact, knocked it out of her grasp and that she was trying to be coy. Her knee had landed on the ground, just south of the twins. He swore she had waggled the knee once, purposefully. But, she was also currently still kneeling dangerously close to his boys while smiling only a hand width from his face. She smelled like elfroot and lavender.

Admittedly, he was distracted.

"Do you yield, Commander?" she asked, in a voice too low to be Isabeau's.

***

"Stop. Don’t say that. I slept with Solas. I slept with Solas. I slept with Solas. I slept with Solas."

His mind flooded with images, memories that belonged to him, yet didn't feel like his own. There were memories containing Isabeau where she shouldn't have been, places the Fade was trying to pry open to insert her.

Trio and Isabeau both stood before him, in the very same spot in Kinloch Hold. He knelt in the dome where Uldred had entrapted him. He tried to pray, but he cowered. He had never been so afraid. His co-workers, his friends, his fellow Templars, all of them. Murdered. While he watched, helplessly inside of this dome.

No, Uldred hadn't put him in it. He had put it around himself. A spell only a mage should know. It was not a Templar ability. Templars didn't cast spells. That's not what the lyrium was for.

The lyrium. It appeared on the desk before him, neatly packaged in the carrying case given to him by the Templar Order.

Why had he brought it to Skyhold? He should have left it behind. It had been nearly a year since he had taken any. He should have left it to be buried in Haven. But, he went back for it.

The guilt ate at him. He didn't need it. He was still strong even though he could no longer use the Templar abilities.

Then, their first night together, he had used them on her. She had attacked him with her green lightning. Just when he had finally forgotten that he was terrified of mages, because they turned into Abominations and killed all your friends.

But, he couldn't bring himself to be frightened of her. She was in control of it. At all times. She was more accurate than any archer he had ever seen. She didn't line up a shot. She just thought about it with an outstretched hand.

He didn't have any of the answers. But, whatever it was, it spoke to him. He knew it, like he knew his own name. She had shown him where it came from. Just by watching her, he felt like he had learned it. She didn't need lyrium. After she found out about his addiction, about his withdrawal symptoms, after their first night together, she hadn't touched it again.

She had stayed. She had found out about his cravings, and his nightmares, and the sweating and angry outbursts. She had stayed. She asked how she could help.

He had cried. For the first time since the day he became a Templar, he cried. Cullen told her then about how he thought the worst of it was over. Then, when he barked at her and tossed the case at her that he deserved some kind of punishment for scaring her.

Isabeau had gathered him into her arms, running her hands over his back soothingly. She had said it was almost over. That she had gone through it too, but it exits her system much more quickly. She had gotten healing tea from Mother Gisselle, a potion from Solas, and packed them up for a week in a cabin.

They had retreated to a remote area of the Hinterlands, populated only by rams and fennecs, and maybe a random bear that was sure to saunter on its way and leave them alone. She had joked that they would stay another week, or maybe two, depending on how long the wine lasted.

She had scheduled an entire trip into the middle of a war, saying, "you need a vacation. The stress is going to kill you, or you're going to snap and kill someone else. Neither of us wants that."

He knew in that moment, she loved him. Lifetime upon lifetime folded back onto each other. How many times had they met and fallen in love?

In the Fade, the demon wore her face. It served him coffee and put a cold cloth on his head when a nightmare woke him, covered in sweat. He could always tell when it was the demon though. It was no Isabeau. It got her eyes the wrong shade of green, and the timber of her voice was all wrong, not nearly shrill enough.

It was so close to being her. Sometimes he wanted to close his eyes and pretend it was her. But, that's what they wanted you to do. It smelled of elfroot and lavender.

Chapter 13: Are We Afraid of the Recoil?

Chapter Text

Chapter 13: Are We Afraid of the Recoil?

Isabeau

I cannot count how many times I have woken up from a tortuous dream, trying to determine if I was still in the Fade or not.

Fresh air filled my lungs, alerting me to the fact I was waking up in my bedroll back in the Waking World. My heart raced as if in the heat of battle. The fear of not being able to determine if I was in the Fade rushed into my lungs. I could tell. I knew I was no longer in the Fade. There was no fresh air in the Fade.

Breathe deep, Isabeau, in through the nose, out through the mouth.

“I am sorry. For my part in it. Truly,” I heard Solas' silken voice coil in my mind.

I had ended things with Cullen. Despair flooded into the empty space within. I heard something call out to me, something far away on the other side of the Veil. It wanted inside, to spread its despondency to the extent of my reach.

I wanted to let it in, to let the hopelessness win. I wanted to feel nothing else besides the pain of my loss. For the most fleeting of moments, I considered it. The reverberating magic of Solas wrapped me in a protective barrier, keeping the demons at bay, like nothing else I had ever experienced. His magic was unlike that of the Circle, or of Dorian's Tevinter blood-magic tinted repertoire, or even of the Dalish. It was otherworldly.

Realizing I wasn't strong enough to keep the metaphorical demons at bay, the sobs wracked my body. I couldn’t catch my breath. I tried sniffling through my clogged nose. Solas stuffed a handkerchief into my hand, putting an arm around me.

“I don’t want that back,” he said.

I cried harder. Cullen never wanted his handkerchief back either. I had come to possess so many handkerchiefs, but never had one when I needed it.

Without Cullen

nothing matters.

I heard Solas swallow a gulp behind me. “Have you considered jumping off your balcony before?” he asked.

“Yes,” I answered. "Many times. I think about what it would be like to jump off my balcony all the time. Every time I stand at it, in fact."

“Are you going to harm yourself now, Isabeau?”

“No, I’m not. And, I’m not going to jump off my balcony either. But, surely you can see the appeal.”

“I can,” he answered.

The hysterical caterwauling subsided. I felt ridiculous. I blew my nose “Solas, I have to go.”

Solas nodded in agreement, offering me a hand to help me up. "First, you must promise me one thing."

I met his eyes, knowing I would grant whatever he asked.

"You must fight the urge to let a demon in." He held my shoulders in his hands. "Promise me?"

Eyes the color of Skyhold's stone walls pleaded with me, unyielding.

I melted a little at his touch. Looking into his eyes had become a much more intimate affair that it had been a few days ago. "I promise. Can you, please, go back to Haven? Talk to Varric and Josie. I’ll catch up.”

"I will," he promised in return.

I finished packing my bedroll. “Can I have your water?”

“Of course.” He handed me his waterskin. “Don’t blame yourself, Isabeau."

“Who is to blame, then? Certainly not Cullen. Are you to blame?”

“Certainly.” Why must he wear that smug look so well?

“That's not helpful. The worst part is, I can’t bring myself to regret my time with you. If nothing else, I expanded my horizons. And, I didn’t think about how I didn’t have a balcony from which to fling myself. That’s just how this part of my life is going to play out.” Hastily, I rerolled my bedroll.

His hand was out, waiting. I handed him the rolled up fabric. He fastened it to the top of my bag, filled my waterskin from his, and slid the rest of his food into my my pack.

“Do not dwell on it. You are heading back into the Fade. You do not know what you will find, or what will find you. Keep your wits about you. There is no room for error here. We came in with two teams of people to retrieve you. You are going in alone. Be wary and be brave.”

“Thank you, my friend.” I reached for his hand.

“Falon,” he said, laying one hand on my shoulder, taking mine in the other.

I folded myself into his embrace, as easily as if I had done it a thousand times before. My hand crackled with green energy, warmth spread through my body. Peace and determination washed over me.

"What are you going to do when the demon wants in again?" His lips just barely brushed the downy hairs on the edge of my ear.

My hand crackled. A chuckle rumbled up from deep within his chest, almost a growl.

"I'm going to kill it," I whispered.

He held me at arms' length, his iron eyes boring into mine. "Do not let it in." Solas' voice echoed in my mind, as if we stood in a canyon. I looked around us wondering if I could tell where it came from.

"Nice party trick." I gawked at his mouth.

"It is not a 'party trick.' It is . . ." Solas ran his thumb across the edge of my jaw, pushing my mouth closed. ". . . a command."

"A command? I thought I was the boss."

The corner of his lip curled into that smirk I loved to hate. "I know."

My stomach did that thing where it jumps rope with my lungs. How could I think about Solas' lips when I needed to go rescue Cullen from the Fade? However, as long as I stood there looking at Solas' pouty mouth, I found my thoughts were only about what his fingers felt like digging into my flesh.

"Be careful, Vherlin," he said. His hand smoothed my long hair down my back. The tense muscles of my jaw relaxed at his touch.

"What does that mean?"

"You will find out." Solas picked up my pack, sliding the straps up my arms, settling the weight of it evenly on my back. "Give it a—"

I had already raised my hand, slicing through the air. A yawning green line tore open behind Solas, displaying the shimmering chartreuse sheer between the Fade and the Waking World. I hadn't practiced it before. Somehow, I just knew where to find it.

“Simply do that again to get out,” his voice whispered in my mind. A feather light touch of his hand slid down my arm as I walked towards the Rift. His fingers intertwined with mine.

I nodded, looking over my shoulder at him before walking through.

My skin was ripped from my body as I stepped into the Fade, turned inside out like a sock pulled from a sweaty foot. Then, the Veil rolled my skin back up my body, inside out, starting at my toes. The taught squeeze of being poured into pantyhose rippled up my calves, over the curves of my thighs, pinching through my belly and waist. The breath was forced from my lungs as my ribs contracted while the pressure rolled up my torso.

My stomach emptied its contents onto the sticky, slimy, sharp rocks under my hands and knees. Gritty eyelids peeled up from dry eyes. The stench of vomit filled my empty lungs. I rolled to my back to escape for fresher air. The air was fetid and dank.

The Fade was as I remembered it. Jagged cliffs rose into the sky, then disappeared moments later. That sickly chartreuse fog hung in the stagnant air. I could hear the staccato call of the demons in the distance. Putrid green water pooled all over the ground.

I had to find Skyhold. I got to my feet, wiping my grit, vomit, and Fade goo covered hands on my pants.

On the road, we were north of Haven. So, I guess I kept going north. Except there was no sun to denote north here.

“Cullen, I’m coming for you. One last time.” I picked up a slow jog. Within minutes the blood was coursing so hard through my body I was running. The ground was uneven. I had to concentrate not to roll an ankle or go sprawling face first into the stagnant water. When I tired, I walked until I caught my breath. More running followed.

Run. Walk. Run. Walk. I would not stop or sleep until I had found Skyhold.

I do not know for how long I ran before I heard her voice.

Loud and clear, she spoke to me. “Back in the Fade, are you, dear? You are getting quite comfortable here.”

I recognized that voice. “Mythal? From the fountain? You were telling me about the elves, the elves Solas speaks of, who celebrate what was before the Dalish.”

“You have been paying attention,” the disembodied voice said.

“It took me a while to realize there was so much that required my attention. Too long. I have been blind to too many things that are right in front of my face," I admitted. Humility should go a long way with Mythal.

“A familiar feeling. That is what love does to you, makes you blind and weak." Each word from Mythal's lips was crisp, a winter breeze in your face when you step out of your tent first thing in the morning. "But, it is inevitable. Love. Anyone who lives long enough will fall at least once or twice.”

“Did you?” I dared ask.

“Of course, girl. Several times. You have grown quite familiar with one. But, he is neither here nor there.” She laughed at a joke I didn’t understand as she approached through the green mist. Her hair was long and black, braided intricately, coiled about her head. Her eyes were yellow as a cat's. Her ears were slender and pointed at the tips. She wore a tall, studded, burgundy leather collar around her neck, making her look like the All-Mother goddess of the clans that she is. Large black feathers dotted the edge of the collar, the pauldrons of her armor. Her studded leather bodice and split skirt matched the blood-red collar. She wore delicate, elbow-length black halla skin gloves. And, knee-high black boots fitted with plate mail greaves.

“Can you help me get to Skyhold?” I asked her, trying not to be frustrated with her crypticism. Her care with words reminded me of another elf I knew.

She clicked her tongue at me with a tsk. “You need to learn to ask the correct questions, girl. Try again.”

“I’m looking for Cullen. Can you show me how to find him?”

She waved a heavily bangled arm. The copper bracelets clanked. Mythal spoke some Elvish I didn't understand. As the green light of the Fade formed the runes in front of her, the meaning of the spell worked its way into my mind.

"Say it, girl," Mythal commanded.

I repeated Mythal's words of forgotten Elvish, their meaning known, the language still a mystery. Skyhold's drawbridge stood before me from across a yawning green chasm. I could see the light in Cullen's office. “Ma serannas, Mythal.”

“No, thank you. I’ll be in touch” she said, ominously, a hand on my chin. "Please, remember my Lightning Cat. Call me Mother."

Glowing green pebbles fell from Skyhold's walls. Mythal's image dissipated into the green fog of the Fade, her voice echoing in my mind.

Lighting Cat. Mother. We had danced before. A fleeting memory overwhelmed me: a jutting, dimpled, pointed chin jerked from her grasp. Jealousy clawed for purchase within me. My hand sparked. I felt the Fade call to my mind. In the distance, a haunting melody played from a city of black clouds.

There was no bridge over this chasm. I had to hop from rock to rock to make it to Skyhold. Distances I thought I would never make, I leapt in a single bound. Mythal must have blessed me. I would not waste her gift. I did not waste time crossing the chasm. Nor did I dwell on the yawning green darkness below.

I passed under the green mortared walls holding the portcullis of Skyhold, dreading coming face-to-face with Cullen so soon after our break up. But, I would try to lament over that later. I had to rescue him from this torture that I knew all too well.

I climbed the steps to Cullen's office, each one more painful than the last. By the time my hand rests on his door, I am choked by withheld tears. The door opened without so much as a creak. I stepped inside.

Cullen didn't look up from the lyrium vial in his hand. It was full, balanced between the tips of his thumb and forefinger. He turned it to and fro, watching the shimmering bubble float in the blue liquid. “Get out.”

I stepped back outside, pulling the door closed behind me. He didn't even want to see me. I held my head in my hands. I heard his chair scoot across the floor, his bootheels click on the stone.

The door flew open. As I had been leaning against said door, I promptly stumbled backwards into him.

“You weren’t supposed to leave.”

“You told me to ‘get out.’ What was I supposed to do?” I could feel him looking down at me sitting by his feet.

“You’ve never left any of the other times. You stay and fight with me, like I expect you to. Why change your tactic now?” His voice was flat, demanding, tired of playing a game with endless overtime.

“This is the first time I’ve been in here since yesterday, or earlier this morning, maybe? I'm not sure.” As I started getting to my feet, Cullen grabbed my pack, helping me remove the heavy load before I tripped over my unbalanced self.

“Isabeau?” There was hope in his voice that ate away at the walls I had built.

“I came to get you out of the Fade. I can’t leave you in here.”

He grabbed my arm, spinning me around to face him. His palms were clammy on my face, my hands, my hair, my clothes, inspecting me for any sign I wasn’t me. “You came for me?” There were tears in his eyes.

“Don’t get too excited. I was, in fact, here merely hours ago to break your heart," I reminded him.

"Hours ago?" he asked, absently.

"Cullen, if we can just talk about that later, I'll get you out of here.”

“I want to talk about it now.” He had purple bags under his eyes, raw knuckles, and torn clothing. His golden blond hair fell in front of his view, and a beard grew on his face. He looked as if it had been quite a while since he had last seen me.

“Listen, everything in my life is kind of ‘Life or Death’ at the moment, so, if I could just focus on the task at hand, and make sure you don’t die in here that would make me really happy," I said in a breath.

“I’m not going to die in here. Nothing is trying to kill me. I sit at my desk. You walk in the door. We fight about Corypheus or Solas or Haven or Zunyla. You peck me on the cheek, leave, and it starts all over again. You never close the door when I tell you to ‘get out.’" His eyes raked across my face. "It’s really you, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. It is. Really me. I’m just going to get you out of the Fade. Then, I’ll walk away. I won’t make this harder on you.” It was all I could do for him after this, the kindest gift I could give him.

“Please, stop!” He put his hands up, covering his ears.

My heart broke. He was starting to lose control. This place was driving him mad, using me to do it. I knew how he felt. I knew what he had been through. I wanted to help him get through this on the other side. And, I couldn't. I had to get out of here before the Fade drove me mad again.

I cupped his arms gently. “I’m sorry. What did I do to upset you?”

“Walking away! Don’t walk away from me. Please?” I had never heard him beg before.

“Cullen, I’m sorry. I won’t. I'm not going to leave you. I’m going to get you home. I promise. Just come with me.” I held out a hand to him.

“No! I won’t leave until you hear me out.” His shout echoed off the stone walls.

“Fine. I’m listening. Do you mind if I sit down? I feel like I just ran a marathon.” My lungs and stomach still burned from my trip through the Veil.

He pulled out the chair back behind his desk, twisting it in my direction. “Isabeau, I’ve had a lot of time, a lot more than a few hours, to think about you, and what happened between you and Solas. I’ve come to the conclusion that I have no right to dictate your behavior. I don't see how your relationship with Solas changes anything between you and me. I love you. Maybe being stuck in the Fade has warped my view of things a little. Which you can, surely, relate to.”

I sighed. "Yes, I can."

“Solas said I was cruel to you. What did I do when I had blue eyes?” He stood on the opposite side of the desk from me. Both hands were planted on the surface.

“You—not you, the desire demon and I, were sparring. He took me down hard enough to knock the wind out of me. As I was laying there on the ground gasping for breath, he just walked away. He didn’t check to see if I was hurt, or offer me a hand up. He just walked away as I gasped for breath. That evening I saw that he was involved in some sort of relationship with Lysette.” I finally found the courage to look Cullen in the eye. “I thought everything we had ever had together was gone. For good. I was devastated.”

“I’m sorry.” Cullen could not have been more genuinely apologetic.

“Cullen, it wasn’t you. Within a few days I realized it was a demon. That's when Solas and I came to the Fade.”

“But, you thought it was me. You got hurt like it was me." Cullen stood facing me. "You didn’t leap into Solas’ arms because you wanted to hurt me, or because you didn't love me any longer.” The man was rational to his core.

“Does it change the fact that I did hurt you? Any more than the demon not being you changes what I did with Solas? I let him touch me in ways only you’re supposed to touch me. I have ruined whatever was between you and I. And I will not fail to take responsibility for my actions.”

He crouched in front of where I sat in his desk chair, to look me in the eye. “Have you tried to hurt yourself?”

I met his gaze. “Besides jumping off my balcony while I was stuck in the Fade? No. I haven’t. I don’t think I ever would. But, sometimes I just want to stop watching my loved ones die. I wanted the demons to stop wearing your face.”

“Isabeau, please don’t end what’s between you and I." Cullen's golden-amber eyes searched mine. "Your pain is my pain. I couldn’t stop feeling that way if I wanted to. I forgive you, even though I see no wrongdoing.” His hands enveloped mine. "I love you."

Tears streamed down my face. “How can you say that?” A sob wracked my body.

“We’re living in an increasingly complicated world. If we can continue to be honest with each other, and support each other, we can get through this. I believe in you.” Cullen leaned in, pressing his forehead to mine.

I cried harder. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Yes, you do. And I deserve you. After all this, of that much I am certain." Gently, he set a hand on the back of my head. "They tortured me with your face, too. But, it's really you this time. You came for me, like I came for you. We’ve worked hard to get this far. I cannot imagine anyone else I would want to have this conversation with. Especially not Lysette.”

“You can’t mean that. You’re supposed to be angry and hateful.”

He laughed a little. “That doesn’t sound anything like me.”

“No, it doesn’t,” I agreed. "We need to get out of the Fade." I sat with my head hanging low, wiping my face.

He handed me a blood-stained handkerchief. “If you don’t try to give that back I’ll know you’re a demon.”

I shook my head in disbelief. “How is it that you don’t think I’m a terrible person?”

“I know you too well, Isabeau Trevelyan. You’ve been under more stress than I have ever seen anyone else handle. Meredith was the last person I saw under this much stress, the weight of the world, and we all know what happened to her. I know what you’ve been through, now. I understand how hard returning to our world must have been for you. I would have done anything to get out of here. I thought about your balcony after you left. Looked at it more than once. But, always from down here. Because, I knew you would come for me.” He kissed me on the temple. "And, you came for me."

I took his hands in mine. The skin was missing from his knuckles. Gently, I pressed my lips to them. “I’ll take care of your hands when we get out of here. Let’s go.”

He helped me to my feet. I thought about Skyhold and Zunyla and Old Nan. With a swipe of my hand I cut a tear in the Veil before us. The yawning green portal opened.

I took his hand in mine ready to lead him back into the harsh reality of a world that wasn’t quite ours. He tugged. "Isabeau, tell me it isn't over between us?"

I didn't turn around. "Does it matter?" I asked, my heart defeated.

"Does it change how I feel about you? No," he stated.

I turned, looking up at him. "Nothing could ever make me stop loving you. Let's go home. Oh, and this isn't going to feel good."

***

Stepping into the Veil is not something I enjoy.

As you come into contact with the curtain
between the Fade and the material world
it feels
as if the razor sharp air
blowing across my skin
flays it from my body I keep my eyes tightly shut
for fear
they’ll be sucked out of my head Every joint in my body pops and cracks
as my limbs are
momentarily
pulled as far as they will reach before
snapping
back into place In that moment
I forget
everything
I have ever known All that I am
is scooped
from my body placed
in a mixing bowl
whisked
and poured
back inside.

As I step out of the Veil, my body feels no pain. Everything feels brand new. I am refreshed. My mind is clear. Then, the horrors that stalked me in the Fade come to the forefront of my mind. Fear threatens to take hold again.

However, while I was in the Fade just a moment before, those fears were simply my own. The Fade did not take hold of me this time, the demons did not find purchase on my mind. I felt my understanding of the Fade had grown each time I returned.

For the first time, I had hope I might get us back to a world we knew.

Safely back in Thedas, Cullen fell to the ground at my feet, crying silently. I knelt next to him, wrapping my arms around him, resting my chin on his shoulder. He hugged me back, letting the tears come. Sobbing, he leaned against my chest.

As I scanned our surroundings, I realized we were in my quarters in Skyhold! It was nighttime, dozens of candles burned in candelabras around the room.

“I know that was awful for you. You're probably going to be sick." I patted his back.

Cullen nodded, tossing himself away from me as he wretched onto the floor.

"It feels like you’re being ripped apart, body and soul. It will get better. Slowly. I promise. Here's a drink of water when you're ready for it." I held out the canteen.

“I never want to do that again," he said, finally noticing where we were, meeting my eyes with a look of surprise.

I heaved myself off the floor. I had never seen him so miserable. Not even that time we spent a week in a cabin for his lyrium withdrawal. He took a gulp of water, swishing it around his mouth, taking my hand as he got to his feet. I watched him think through what had just occurred between us as he walked over to the wash basin to spit. Cullen rinsed his mouth several times. I heard him pick up his toothbrush and brush his teeth.

I waited, looking around my room, giving him a chance to process the unbelievable web in which we had been caught. Everything looked in place. The painting of the Trevelyan estate was hanging over my dresser. My staff leaned against the wall next to it.

Cullen picked up the soap, scrubbing his hands and face thoroughly. He sighed deeply drying his face on the plush hand towel. Swallowing some water, he recapped the bottle, walking over to me. “I know where I’m supposed to be, Isabeau. With you. I do not know how I ever doubted it."

I brushed the hair back from his eyes. It had grown so long since I saw him last night. No, not last night. But, when? The Fade was an awful place. The depths of Cullen's golden-amber eyes was one of my favorite places. “I cannot picture my life any other way than with you.”

We reached for one another, finding comfort in the familiar embrace. The rise and fall of his chest against mine calmed me. I never wanted to be without this man.

“I’ll always come for you. I promise.”

He laid his head on mine. “I know you will.”

“You have always been there for me. I hope I can continue to return the favor.”

“It’s not a favor,” he said. “It’s love.”

I looked at the man I had fallen in love with across lifetimes. For the first time, his beard had grown beyond the stubble of his five o'clock shadow. His hair fell over his forehead into his eyes again. I brushed it back. “After all this? Are you sure?”

“Yes, I'm sure I love you” he said. “After all this. What we have is no trivial relationship. I do not see how I could ever choose to live in a world without you."

“I love you. I’m sorry I hurt you,” I told him, taking his hand, examining the wounds on his knuckles as I contemplated what I had done to deserve forgiveness. "Let me put something on this now that you've had a chance to wash your hands."

He nodded, following me over to the side table by the bed. My healing salve was right where I expected it to be, next to my lip balm. As I turned back towards him, I realized his clothing was neatly folded and placed over the back of the sofa. His armor was sitting on the floor, propped up against the leg of the coffee table just where he would normally leave it.

"When do you think we are?" he asked, fingering the clean clothing, wearing rags of the very same thing.

I shrugged. "I'll see if my journal is here."

A familiar voice bellowed up from the ground far below. I ran to my balcony railing to discover a sea of torchlight marching towards Skyhold. Dorian and Cole stood next to the Iron Bull. All three of them were out of breath. I felt Cullen's warm hand on my back, right behind me.

"Hey, Boss!" Bull yelled. "Daaaaaarkspaaaaaawn!"

Chapter 14: The Aftermath. Inquisitor Isabeau's Tale, Part II: Fading Through Time. Chapter 1.

Chapter Text

Prologue

Not long after rescuing Isabeau from being trapped in the Fade, Cullen found himself trapped in the Fade. He could remember neither how he go there, nor what he was doing previously.

What seemed like months later, just when he thought he was being rescued, Isabeau and Solas showed up to inform him that they had been living in an Alternate Universe where a demon was masquerading as Cullen. Overwhelmed by grief and stress, Isabeau and Solas had grown closer, and become physically intimate with each other.

The worst part was how it didn't come as a surprise. Cullen had been watching the two of them grow closer, as the members of the Inquisition jumped from one timeline to another, as events of the Inquisition grew ever more complicated. They had lived through the events of the Inquisition so many times together, Cullen had lost track.

The lifetimes he and Isabeau had lived, over and over again, blurred together now, into a rich tapestry of courtship and marriage. More often than not, however, that happy life ended in tragedy as Isabeau welcomed a spirit of Justice into her body to defeat Corypheus.

During those lives, Isabeau sought Solas at the end, when her mind had been ravaged by what became a demon of Vengeance. Only Solas could begin to make sense of Isabeau's inner turmoil. Time and time again, she begged Solas to end her life, only to be sling-shot by time to relive the events of the Inquisition once more.

Somehow, she still loved him, still wanted him. He could not stop wanting her if he tried. They were both determined to make their way through this life together. Though, Cullen was not sure how Solas fit into the picture, he knew their lives were now intricately intertwined with Isabeau's.

Ultimately, Isabeau did come for Cullen, pulling him out of the Fade through a Fade Rift, and back into the Inquisitor's quarters in Skyhold. As they surveyed their surroundings, they found all of their belongings in place: Isabeau's staff leaning against the wall, Cullen's armor laid out on the desk, his fur across the back of the sofa.

Far below the balcony, the Iron Bull bellowed from the courtyard, "Darkspawn!"

Skyhold's residents fought bravely, under the guidance of their determined leaders, defeating the Darkspawn horde. Though, not all were unscathed.

Inquisitor Isabeau's Tale - Part II: Fading Through Time
Chapter 1: The Aftermath

Cullen

Cullen startled awake. He was surrounded in itchy woolen blankets, lying on a camping cot. The Great Hall had been turned into a healing ward. What must have been a hundred cots lined the long walls. The fine Orlesian dining tables lined the center of the hall, filled with medical supplies, both new and used, forgotten food and drink, discarded weapons, and bloodied rags.

The strong scent of vinegar mixed with blood and vomit was in the air. A groan of pain rang through the hall every few minutes from one patient or another. Mother Giselle padded silently across the floor, stopping at every bedside. The heels of Orlesians clicked on the stone floors. Scissors snipped bandages. Sunlight streamed through the window of Lady Vivienne's balcony high above his head.

Dorian sat in a chair next to the bed holding the sleeping Iron Bull's hand.

"Dorian, where's Beau?" Cullen croaked to the back of Dorian's head, his mouth parched.

Turning towards a bedside table, Dorian poured a glass of water, handing it to Cullen, helping him sit up. "She's in the Rotunda with Solas. I'm afraid she isn't doing well, my friend."

Screaming as he attempted to swing his legs to the floor, Cullen fell back down to the lumpy bedding.

"You have a broken leg, by the way," Dorian informed him. "A boulder almost killed you. Bull took the brunt of it. He has been in and out of it. His injuries are severe."

"What happened?" Cullen asked. His memory felt full of cobwebs.

Dorian had never looked so solemn. "A Darkspawn horde attacked us last night. Beau made the decision to put a team of mages as the front line on top of the gatehouse. We held that line. The Darkspawn breached the wooden gate with a fiery battering ram, but did not breach the first portcullis. The siege on the front gate seems to have been a distraction from the trebuchet they positioned into firing range way up on the Eastern peak. They were able to fire three boulders into Skyhold before our forces could reach them. One hit you and Bull, another landed in her quarters, and one took out the front wall of the pub."

"But, she wasn't in her room, right?" Cullen asked, his eyes darting wildly between the door to her quarters, the Rotunda door, and Dorian's eyes.

"Correct, it wasn't a boulder that took her out." Dorian nodded. "She started showing signs of the Darkspawn corruption right before you woke up, actually. She had been sitting at your bedside for hours when I noticed her skin had broken out in a splotchy rash. She had been complaining of hearing strange sounds as well. Solas believes a demon has sensed her weakness and is attempting to inhabit her mind and her body. He has placed her in some sort of magical repose to halt any advancement of the Taint."

Watching Cullen once again push himself into a sitting position, Dorian jumped up to help.

"I have to see her, Dorian," Cullen pleaded.

When Cullen opened the door of the Rotunda, he was taken aback by what he saw.

Solas sat at the head of Isabeau's bed cross-legged, Isabeau's head in his lap. His hands cradled her temples as he stroked her forehead with a thumb, his head bent down towards hers, whispering Elven words Cullen had never heard before, and did not understand.

The intimate moment brought a smile to his face, realizing how close the two of them had become in their time together. He did not fault Isabeau for her attraction to Solas. Before Cullen had realized Isabeau was flirting with him, he watched her interact so casually with Solas. At first, he thought it was perhaps ideation for a mage who was obviously talented and powerful. Cullen could feel the magic roil off of Solas from outside the door. But, as time went on, he realized the two had an attraction to each other. One neither of them fought, and had only acted on one time, that he knew of.

Solas doted on no one else the way he did on Isabeau. When Cullen realized that, he thought perhaps Solas held the Inquisitor in such high esteem because of her position, or even because of the mark on her hand.

Cullen had never been a man with jealousy in his heart. He would not let such a harmful notion work its way in, though he longed to be the one to hold her. Isabeau's feelings for him were never in question. In no way did he feel that she had been unfaithful to him by remaining faithful to herself.

Watching Solas with her now somehow warmed his heart. Knowing that a mage as powerful as Solas held Isabeau's best interests in the highest regard was the only thing providing Cullen with any sense of hope in a time such as this, when despair threatened to overwhelm him. Of one thing he was certain: Solas would not allow any harm to come to Isabeau. In this moment, Cullen was grateful for whatever bond they shared.

Watching them together, Cullen recognized the way Solas looked at Isabeau. There was no doubt in his mind that she was as important to Solas as she was to him. Isabeau had not professed any great love for Solas. But, Solas had it plainly written on his face as he held her. Cullen recognized it because it was the way he looked at her, too. She was his everything.

Swallowing the dry lump in his tight throat, Cullen asked, "how is she?"

Solas exhaled a deep breath. "Dorian?" he whispered, his lips dry like paper.

Dorian set a hand on Cullen's back before stepping up to Isabeau's bedside. Then, took Isabeau's hand in his. Dorian began reciting the Elven words along with Solas. They repeated the chant three times together before Solas moved out from under the reposed Isabeau. Solas ensured Dorian had a hand on her before removing his own. Carefully, he lifted her head, cradling it as one might a raw egg, as not to jostle her unnecessarily in the transition, before setting it on the bed. Solas placed the nearby chair at the head of the bed for Dorian to sit while he cast the spell in Solas' stead.

Solas joined Cullen standing next to Isabeau's bedside. "She is holding her ground. At first, she was rather confused. She is being held in a dream-like state in the Fade. She's not happy about it, but it is for her own good, and she has consented to trusting our judgment. I think it helps that Dorian, Vivienne, and Fiona have all learned the spell. She is not stuck with just me. I am sure I would bore her in no time."

"Oh, I don't know. I don't believe she finds you boring in any way," Cullen stated flatly, staring down at Isabeau. "It's strange to see her like this. She's a fitful sleeper. She's so calm now. Don't you think she looks dead?"

"If you watch long enough, Commander, I believe you will see the rise and fall of her chest." Solas took a drink of water from a glass on the bedside table.

"So you can speak to her while you're casting over her?" Cullen asked. Relief washed through him as she finally took a breath deep enough for him to acknowledge that it was not, in fact, a trick of the eye.

"Yes, I can. She is never left to her own devices. Skyhold is fortunate to have several extremely talented mages, and from such differing corners of Thedas." Solas glanced over at Cullen. "She asks about you. Dorian is certainly telling her that you are back on your feet. That will help to lighten the load now weighing on her heart. We try to stay off the topic of how Skyhold is doing in the aftermath of the attack since there is nothing she can do about it from where she is."

"What kind of danger is she in from the Darkspawn corruption, Solas?" Cullen asked, abruptly.

Solas laid a warm hand on Cullen's arm. "None, Commander. Not at the moment, anyhow. The spell protects her physically as well as mentally. Her mind is safe in the Fade with us standing sentinel."

Cullen's head dropped into his hand. His shoulders heaved with soft tremors. Solas' hand glided gently across his back in wide meandering curves.

"And, her body will be healed by the Grey Wardens when they arrive. Surely, Sister Nightingale has already contacted the Hero of Ferelden. The spell helps keep the Taint from progressing through her soft tissues. The next threat to her well-being will be the Joining. Pardon me to bring up such a thing in a time such as this. However, I imagine living through a Blight yourself, you are aware of its survival rate."

A gasp escaped Cullen's throat as he settled himself with a deep breath. "Yes. She has conquered everything else in her way. Maker's blessings that the Joining will not be the first thing she cannot beat into submission."

Solas barked a laugh. "She is not yet ready to be conquered. There is plenty of fight left in her."

"Thank you, my friend. I believe you understand me when I say, I do not know how I would live without her."

With a slight nod, Solas cleared his throat. "I do, indeed."

***

Cullen sat by Isabeau's bedside for two days. The medics had splinted his broken leg as best they could. Solas poured healing magic into him, saying, "you will still have some recovery time. Broken bones are not always such an easy fix, even for healers." Mother Giselle thought it would heal completely. But, only time would tell. It stuck out at an odd angle when he sat, since he couldn't bend it.

Solas had told him that Isabeau had sat by his bedside all through the night after the attack, waiting for Cullen to wake up. She would sit, staring into nothingness. When Solas roused her she would be frightened, saying the Fade was calling to her, that the demons wanted to use her to travel through the Veil. He had believed her connection to the Fade had become so strong the demons clamored to get out through her. Reluctantly, she had agree to be placed in repose once Dorian pointed out the splotches on her skin, an undeniable sign of the corruption.

Apparently, the thing about this spell is that it needed to be continuously cast over her. Solas, Dorian, and Vivienne had been sitting with their hands resting on her for the past two and a half days. Vivienne replaced Dorian for the afternoon shift.

Cullen had never seen Dorian look so exhausted. "How much longer can you keep this up?"

Dorian took a long swallow of wine from a flask on his hip, handing it to Cullen. "As long as it takes. Don't worry about her. She's all right in there."

"Currently, it is you that I'm worried about, Dorian."

Dorian waved away the concern as he straightened his clothing.

"She's in the Fade, isn't she?" Cullen asked, after swallowing the warm, throat-coating red wine.

Dorian nodded. "She is. Fighting the demons as we speak. She's going to get through this, Cullen."

"I noticed when you relieved Solas he didn't appear to be showing signs of fatigue as you are," Cullen remarked.

Dorian lifted a moustached corner of lip. "Yes, I noticed that too," he agreed. "I've never seen magic performed in this manner before. We have nothing quite like it in Tevinter. Further more, I do not know any of these Elven words."

"I do not see Solas use his magic often in Skyhold, but when I do, it is always something new. Isabeau has mentioned on several occasions that she thinks he has much more power than he chooses to let us believe. It used to make me nervous," Cullen admitted.

"Used to? Have you changed your mind about him now that he is responsible for Beau's life? Are you grateful for the secrecy, no matter what the elf may be hiding?" Dorian asked.

"If Isabeau lives through this, I will be grateful to him with my life if need be," Cullen stated, frankly.

Dorian's perfectly groomed eyebrows raised at the Commander's admission.

Cullen continued, "I think I have learned to not question the methods of magic, especially when I do not understand so much of it."

Dorian put a hand on Cullen's arm. "In that case, I have a favor to ask of you. One of which, I'm afraid, you may not approve."

"Anything, ask it," Cullen replied.

"The Iron Bull cannot move nor feel his legs. He has announced that he will not live like this. He is going to ask the Chargers to help him perform some barbarous Qunari ceremony, the Ashkaari Kata, to kill himself. He's going to ask you to be there, too." Dorian shook his head.

"I—" Cullen could not find the words.

"Worry not. I will not let him carry through with it." Dorian's grey-Tevinter-sky gaze met Cullen's. "I'm going to perform a blood magic ritual to restore the use of his legs. I am sure it will work. It's magic a child could do in Tevinter. No, I do not practice blood magic here in Skyhold. But, yes every Magister, and every child of a Magister knows blood magic. We don't call it blood magic though. It's just magic in Tevinter."

Cullen put up a hand. "Ask your favor of me, Dorian."

"I want you to pretend like you're not a Templar, and I want you to ignore it," Dorian said.

Extending his hand, Cullen took Dorian's. "Anything for a friend. Besides, I am a Templar no longer."

Dorian smirked at Cullen. "Rubbish."

Cullen could hardly argue. He couldn't imagine losing the use of his legs. It would take everything from him, especially with Isabeau in this condition. He would judge neither Dorian for knowing the ritual, nor Bull for partaking. In that situation, he could see how turning to blood magic would seem valid. In the future, he would not quickly discount his options.

Later, around midnight, when the Iron Bull walked back into the Rotunda hand-in-hand with Dorian, Cullen nearly burst into tears. Instead, he laid his forehead on the back of Isabeau's hand, sobbing silently. The Qunari pulled up a stool to sit beside him, laying a warm meaty hand on Cullen's shoulder, rubbing back and forth slowly. Cullen let the tears flow then.

***

The following evening, Cullen had been sitting by Isabeau's bedside all day, well into the wee morning hours. Bull had fallen asleep leaning on Cullen's shoulder while Cullen slept, curled around Isabeau's forearm. He kissed the back of her hand, sitting up to stretch.

Bull grunted, jostling awake mumbling, "just resting my eyes."

Dorian and Solas still sat at the desk, discussing the spells in front of them. Earlier that day, another young woman in Skyhold, a Circle mage from Kinloch Hold named Marnie Evanwood, had begun to show the alarming splotchy rash of the Darkspawn corruption.

Marnie's flaming, wavy red hair hung over her shoulder as she leaned on the table. Her friends, Issera, a Dalish elf, and Elliara, formerly a Tevinter elven slave, had waited in the Rotunda for hours with her. Dorian had sent them to bed not long ago as he and Solas tried to decide if it was feasible to hold two people in repose under one spell.

"You should take him to bed," Cullen said to Bull.

"He won't go before he's ready. You know that," Bull replied.

"Glad you're walking again, buddy." Cullen laid a hand on Bull's thigh, grabbing a handful.

Bull laid his hand on Cullen's. "Yeah, me too. Hey, uh, thanks for being cool about all that, uh . . . 'Vint stuff. I know it probably wasn't easy for you to just let that slide."

"It was a lot easier than I thought it was going to be. If I was in the same situation . . ." He got choked up, bowing his head to Isabeau's hand again.

"I know, man. I lived it. It was just like that. If Dorian was laying here, having all this strange chanting done over him day and night, I don't know if I could take it sitting up." Bull put his hand on Cullen's shoulder again.

"She can't die," Cullen whispered.

"Hey, don't talk like that." Bull tried to sound reassuring.

Cullen sat up straight, wiping his cheeks. "I mean it. I don't know how to go on without her. I love her so much. More than anything else in this world."

"I know you do. And, I know what that kind of love feels like." Bull put his forehead to the side of Cullen's head. The Qunari's huge horns stuck out to either side. "She's not going to die. Look at the people in this room. Some of the most powerful mages I've ever seen are doing everything within their power, and some things outside of their power, to protect her. She's going to pull through this. She's going to be okay."

Cullen nodded, drying the tears on his cheeks.

"And, you don't have to do this alone. All right? We're all here for you, and for Beau."

"I miss her so much. It's only been three days."

"That's love, man," Bull said. "It hurts. It sucks. It's the part of this you can't prepare for. Give me the pain of battle over the pain of love any day."

Solas and Dorian came to an agreement, finally. Laying his hands on her shoulders, Solas began chanting with Vivienne. A few moments later, Vivienne stood as Solas took her seat. The two mages were careful to make sure at least one of them had a hand on Isabeau at all times as they switched seats.

Marnie laid in the cot next to Isabeau, nodding to Dorian. Within moments, Marnie was under Dorian's spell. Solas reached out, putting one hand on Marnie's shoulder while keeping one on Isabeau. Dorian stood, making sure Solas could hold both women under his spell. Solas nodded.

Dorian walked over behind Bull, wrapping his arms around the Qunari's thick neck. He ducked under one hulking horn, watching over the spell casting for several long minutes.

"Goodnight, everyone," Vivienne said, before quietly letting herself out.

"I should have thanked her," Cullen said after she closed the door.

"You can thank her tomorrow," Dorian said. "It will still count. Get some sleep, Commander. Beau will be safe with Solas. I can guarantee it."

Cullen looked up at Dorian and the Iron Bull with bloodshot, tear-filled eyes. "Thanks. I'll try."

"Let's go to bed," Dorian said, tugging on Bull's hand.

Bull laid his hand on Cullen's head, bending over to press a kiss to the top of his blonde head. "Thanks, brother."

"Hey, Bull. I'm glad you're alive. Great job today, Dorian." Cullen told them.

"Thanks, Commander," Dorian said, closing the door behind them.

Cullen was alone in the room with Marnie and Isabeau, who were in Fade comas, as everyone was calling it, and Solas, who chanted silently. He had heard Dorian talk about the words now being half in Ancient Tevene, and half in some archaic form of Elven. Cullen had listened to all the mages chant the spell today. The Rotunda crackled with energy. Several times an hour, the green lightning of Isabeau's mark sparked, causing the hair on his arms to stand up.

Everything that happened since the Darkspawn attack was so new and different. He couldn't seem to remember what he was doing right before the Darkspawn arrived, or even what he had done the day before. Everything had felt off. And, he couldn't quite pinpoint why.

He didn't know what to do with himself, besides sit here and hope. Cullen let his mind wander. He recalled moments from his childhood, when he was very little, memories he had not thought about in a very long time.

His grandfather had once fallen into a deep sleep for several days. He never woke up. But, while he lay there motionless, Cullen's mother had told him to talk to his Grandfather, saying he could still hear him.

Cullen pressed his lips to the back of Isabeau's hand. "Isabeau . . . I miss you. I suppose you know exactly how much I miss you, if you are indeed listening. I don't know that this is the right way to do this, but I think you should know I intend on spending the rest of my life with you. I knew it before this happened. I'm a fool. Why did it take me so long? I've wasted my time, something I like to think I don't often do. I won't be so foolish in the future, with either my time or my feelings. And, certainly not with you. I think you would tell me, you also want to spend the rest of your life with me. Knowing it, and seeing you lie here like this? It eats me up inside. I can't do anything to help you, besides sit here, holding your hand, telling you how much I love you. I promise you, no more wasted time. Not between you and I. Never again."

He kissed the back of her hand, holding it to his lips as the tears flowed freely.

***

In the morning . . . Josie had brought a tray of coffee and a blueberry scones to the Rotunda before the sun had risen over the Frostbacks, insisting he eat. She had invited him and Solas to join her, Leliana, and Cassandra in the War Room after he had gotten cleaned up. She waved a couple of scouts into the room. They hauled a large soaking tub between them. One of them held her hands above the empty tub. Slowly, it filled with water. The other set his hands on the sides of the tub. Within a few moments, the water began steaming. Josie left a basket of soaps and towels on a side table.

"Thank you," Cullen remembered to say before the they left.

"You're welcome, Commander," the scouts said, in unison.

"Vivienne tells me Solas doesn't tire as the rest of them do after casting over Isabeau. She says she's exhausted after a few hours. Yet, he can go all night without demonstrating the slightest bit of fatigue," Josephine commented.

"Solas appears to have an unequaled willpower, it seems," Cullen replied, wiping the sleep from his eyes. "Especially if Vivienne has commented."

"Do you think it bravado?" she asked, standing next to Isabeau's bedside.

"No. He's too honest for that." Cullen admitted. "I think he's in love with her." Perhaps that wasn't something he should have said, but the early morning and his lack of sleep loosened his tongue.

"Oh!" Josephine exclaimed. "I did not realize you had taken notice. Um . . ."

"Oh, so you don't think I am wrong?"

"No. I do not. They have been drawn to each other since they met. As much as they disagree, they certainly choose to spend an awful lot of time together. Leliana has noted that if she is not with you, she is with him." Josie had the eloquence to look as embarrassed as she was. "I think she likes fighting with him. I notice the two of you never fight. I am sorry, Commander."

Cullen waved a hand. "You do not need to concern yourself with it, Josie. Isabeau and I are on excellent terms." He looked down at her. "I'm going to marry her."

"Ah, the sting of unrequited love, then . . ." Josephine trailed off, taking Cullen's hand. "We all love her, Commander. I, too, will do anything within my power to help her. But, I am no mage." She patted the back of his hand a few times in a grandmotherly fashion. "We have good news. We'll see you soon in the War Room. Have a hot soak, and some coffee. Try to eat a scone. Nan made Isabeau's favorite, just in case she might wake." Josie's voice tightened. "Blue-cranberry orange."

"I will. Thank you," Cullen said, squeezing Josie's hand before she took it from him.

"I will see you soon, Commander," Josie said, closing the door behind her.

Isabeau's quarters had hot running water and a shower. The two of them had been spoiled having their own personal washroom. He pictured what it must look like now with broken glass and stone strewn about. Josephine had Mason Gatsi and a crew working on it within the first twenty-four hours of the attack.

He kissed Isabeau's hand, laying it down to stretch. Both of their hands were sweaty, from being clasped together for the last several hours. At least he had gotten some sleep. Tonight, he would have a cot placed next to her. He didn't know why he hadn't thought of that. His back was killing him from sleeping in a chair.

The loose stone on the stairs from the second floor library clacked as Dorian stepped on it, purposefully. "Good morning, Commander," Dorian said, entering the Rotunda from the Great Hall, his slate grey-blue velvet robe flowing behind him. "Oooooo, hot water! Do get in." He set a pack of clothes down on a table. "These are for you."

"Thank you. That was thoughtful. I'll need some help with this splint," Cullen pointed out.

Dorian knelt in front of him, unfastening the buckles at the ankle Cullen couldn't reach. "Do you need some help getting in or were you going to try to break your other leg?"

Cullen held out an arm. "Yes, I could certainly use a hand. Thank you." He found that he could set his foot on the ground and put some weight on it. Too much, and the pain shot through his foot, up into his hip, then through his groin into his tailbone. One such blinding step would cause him to see stars.

"Let's take it easy getting in," Dorian cautioned.

Cullen ripped the blood-stained shirt over his head, and let his loose breeches slide to the floor. Dorian pretended to avert his eyes as Cullen kicked off his small clothes, and swung his injured leg into the steaming water. "Oh, that's hot," he said, hopping on one leg, inching closer to the tub.

Dorian held firm on Cullen's arm draped over his shoulders, and firmer with the arm he had behind Cullen's back. "All right, in with the good leg, now."

"Bull could have just picked me up," Cullen said, glancing sideways at Dorian.

"He could, but he's still snoring. It's not even light out yet. So you're stuck with me."

Cullen leaned over, gripping the sides of the tub in his hands, holding his weight off his bad leg as he managed to get the good leg into the tub too. He hissed as the steaming water touched his tender parts, but it did not slow his descent. He only had one speed at this point, and that speed was "splash a little on the way down." Water swooshed over the edge.

Dorian mopped the marble floor with a towel, which he then hung over the back of a chair. He set a fresh towel on the seat of the chair, placing a sleek black leather bag on top. "Everything you need is in there. Consider it a gift. I'm going to take over for Solas."

Cullen nodded. Dorian stood behind Solas, hands on his shoulders. He began mouthing the words with Solas. After three rounds of chanting, Solas stood, and Dorian slid into his seat at Isabeau and Marnie's heads. They had choreographed a seamless dance for switching spellcasters in the past few days.

"Good morning, Commander," Solas said, interlocking his fingers to crack his knuckles as he stretched overhead.

"Thank you, for what you're doing for her. Dorian tells me that she's safe in there," Cullen said, taking an elliptical bar of swirled white and green soap from the bag. It was the same elfroot soap Isabeau used. In the bag also was a razor, a mirror, and anything else he could ever hope to need including tweezers and nail clippers. Cullen smiled at Dorian's bowed head.

Solas nodded. "She is safe, entirely. I assure you."

"What's happening to her in the Fade?" Cullen asked.

"She is fighting demons. Continuously at this point. And, she has not even broken a sweat while she does it. She keeps saying it feels like it has only been five minutes. She taught Marnie how to do it already. Marnie can usually take two at a time. Isabeau has worked up to a dozen."

"I'm going to get cleaned up. Josephine invited you and I over to the War Room," Cullen informed him.

"I will ask Bull to sit with these three while we're gone. To make sure they are all safe," Solas promised.

Chapter 15: Pieces of Perceptions. Inquisitor Isabeau's Tale, Part II: Fading Through Time. Chapter 2.

Chapter Text

Chapter 15 or "Fading Through Time" Chapter 2: Pieces of Perceptions

Solas

Only once had Solas walked away from Isabeau Trevelyan. Just the first time. Determined to complete the plan he had put into motion three thousand years ago, Solas turned his back on the woman he loved. She didn't love him. Isabeau loved Cullen. With her heart pledged to another, Solas found the will to walk away from her. Silently, in the middle of the night, after Isabeau had first defeated Corypheus, he left the Inquisition. He had planned to follow through with his original intention of tearing down the Veil and restoring the world of Elvhenan, reuniting Thedas with not only its lost magic, but its forgotten history.

Solas had wanted to restore the magic to modern Thedas, the way it had been in Elvhenan. However, he realized that restoring that world was impossible. For three thousand years his home had been gone. It was time to admit that Elvhenan was gone forever.

If Solas' memory of the events surrounding the explosion of the Conclave were reliable, Isabeau had interrupted Corypheus as he activated an ancient Elven orb. Solas had planted his orb for Corypheus to find at a time when he wasn't strong enough to activate it himself. Isabeau's untapped magic caused the ancient Elven magic of the orb to act erratically. Her actions may have caused the explosion, unfortunately. But, they also kept Corypheus out of the Black City. There was no telling how just how catastrophic that would have been. However, Solas was certain that would have been far worse than when he had raised the Veil.

As Solas picked his way through the glowing green rubble of the Temple of Sacred Ashes yet again, he knew he was experiencing more than merely a sense of déjà vu; time was repeating. He was getting another chance. This was not the first time Corypheus had used the ancient orb in an attempt to enter the Fade.

Hoping to find Isabeau before Cassandra found her and imprisoned her in Haven's dungeon, Solas scanned what had moments ago been the Temple of Sacred Ashes. The chartreuse glow meant his orb had been used and a breach in the Veil had occurred. Far above, the expected swirling green miasma of the funnel cloud that was the Breach burned a hole in the sky of Thedas.

Solas' memories of the incident were fuzzier than he expected. He knew that he stopped the slave-owning Evanuris by raising the Veil, separating the magic from what would come to be called "the Waking World." The most powerful mages in Elvhenan, the Evanuris, would be worshipped as gods millennia later. The gods of the Dalish elves today were the morally reprehensible, selfish, greedy overlords of Elvhenan. Solas could remember wanting to stop them no matter the cost.

The cost was greater than he had anticipated. By taking the magic away from the Evanuris, Solas destroyed the world that was. Walls crumbled and the elves that had been previously imprisoned in a life of slavery to the Evanuris were freed as society was wholly destroyed. For, not only did he destroy the Evanuris, when he raised the Veil, separating them from their magic, he unintentionally destroyed the world of Elvhenan. While the knowledge of his part in it was concrete, he found it strange that he could not recall any of the details surrounding the incident or the plans leading up to that day.

Moments ago, Solas had been working towards plans to tear down the Veil and restore the world of Elvhenan, hoping to take away the three millennia of guilt that had been eating away at him. He had wronged his people. He hadn't helped them. And somehow, in that memory, all he had wanted ever since was to be reunited with Isabeau. Why did he suddenly have a sense of memories of Isabeau from Elvhenan? It was almost as if he had yearned for her for three thousand years.

He didn't understand how he could have followed such misguided thinking that lead him to walk away from her, and the Inquisition to which she was committed. An Inquisition that picked up steam because of his orb. Solas would walk away from neither Isabeau nor the Inquisition again.

Now, was his chance to right his wrongs.

Isabeau laid where he expected her to be. He had found her here previously, on the edge of a cliff, one that had not been there before his orb exploded. There was no temple any longer. The land here was unrecognizable. The Temple of Sacred Ashes had been razed to the ground. Chunks of stone hung in the air, suspended from green fog

One of Isabeau's feet dangled off the ledge. Her unconscious fingers gripped the stone beneath her for dear life. When he gathered her in his arms, Solas laid his fingers against her neck, looking for a pulse. The knowledge of their past lifetimes flooded him, a bewildering amalgamation of memories stacked atop one another. Each lifetime was distinctly its own, yet, somehow all blended together forming hundreds of years of memories.

The sting of unrequited love was worth every day spent with her, worth every aching moment he watched as a bystander to her great love story with Cullen. He found purpose in trying to untangle the mystery of why they were caught in this time loop. After living through the explosion at the conclave hundreds of times, Isabeau and Solas had grown ever closer with each passing lifetime.

Isabeau's health and happiness were all that had mattered to Solas in a very, very long time. Although, her heart belonged to another, he leapt at every opportunity to spend time with her. Knowing she was alive in this world was the only certainty he needed. Never before had he felt compelled to keep someone alive, someone who clearly did not have a strong enough sense of self preservation. And, never before had Solas opened himself up to someone as he did with Isabeau. He respected her so completely, wanting to entrust her with his secrets.

Never again would he willingly walk away from her. He did not possess that sort of strength, not any more, not after knowing Isabeau Trevelyan.

The repetition of time seemed to be some sort of side effect, distinctly connected to their encounter with Magister Alexius Gereon, who had been experimenting with time magic in an attempt to save his son, Felix, from the Darkspawn corruption. In the early days of the Inquisition, Isabeau had visited Redcliffe to speak with former Grand Enchanter Fiona about the rebel mages. She and Dorian ended up a year in the future where Corypheus had amassed a demon army that defeated an Inquisitorless Inquisition. Dorian and Isabeau managed to correct their jump through time as Dorian took a wild guess on how to use the Amulet of Time Magic that Alexius had used to send them forward into the most dreaded timeline.

When time first started to repeat, many of the events experienced by the Inquisition seemed to repeat in the same manner. Until recently when the Darkspawn attacked Skyhold. Then, the events of the Inquisition were forever changed. No longer did the repeating events start with the explosion of the Conclave. Ever since that first Darkspawn attack, it was now the starting point for the repetition of time.

Darkspawn finding their way to Skyhold changed everything. Now, Solas would watch Isabeau sit by Cullen's bedside, hoping he would regain consciousness. But, the corruption in her began to manifest before they could reunite. Once the Taint took hold of Isabeau, a spirit began calling to her, taking advantage of her weakened state. The spirit was attempting to inhabit a new body, one who more actively sought the justice the spirit craved than the body they came in with.

More than anything else, Isabeau's journey had lead her towards the defeat of Corypheus, to help silence the dying screams of those they had lost at Haven, and the Conclave, and everyone who had given their lives in the name of this Inquisition. Isabeau had practically invited the spirit to Skyhold in her desperation to stop the ancient, evil Tevinter Darkspawn Magister.

When Isabeau began to show signs of the Taint, Leliana didn't waste any time contacting her dear friend, the Warden Commander and Hero of Ferelden, Trio Amell-Theirin at Vigil's Keep, the Fereldan Grey Warden stronghold, to ask her to come to Skyhold and perform the Joining ceremony on the Inquisitor. Trio arrived with a small entourage: her husband, and partner in the Fifth Blight, Alistair Theirin; their Mabari, Barkspawn; and a fugitive, secretly harbored by the Grey Wardens, Anders.

Why Leliana allowed the man responsible for the destruction of Kirkwall's Chantry into Skyhold, Solas had never understood. Calling him 'Will' did nothing to hide his identity. He skulked in the shadows of the keep, the spirit of Justice within eager to find someone new to seek further reparations.

In an effort to save Isabeau's long term mental health, Solas had decided to reveal one of his greatest secrets: the Eluvian network, magical mirrored portals that connected the vast empire of ancient Elvhenan. There was another Eluvian that had lived in the basem*nt of Vigil's Keep for centuries. In an uncharacteristic display of honesty, Solas confided about its existence and capabilities to Leliana. Solas heard the spirit's voice as the Wardens passed through the Eluvian. Despite his struggle to keep Isabeau and Justice apart, he did not regret the decision to instantaneously bring the Grey Wardens to Isabeau, revealing one of Elvhenan's most closely guarded artifacts. He was more afraid that Isabeau would not last the two week overland journey the Grey Wardens would have had from Vigil's Keep to Skyhold. He would not permit the blood of Isabeau's death to stain his hands.

Time after time, the spirit of Justice reached out to Isabeau after she had completed the Joining ritual. When Isabeau welcomed the spirit of Justice to reside within her, her connection to the Fade would be strengthened even further. Justice, combined with of the glowing green mark on her hand from the explosion of the orb, anchored her to the magic within the Fade. Isabeau would demonstrate magical prowess Solas had only seen long ago, in the Evanuris.

Once she had survived the Joining and become a Grey Warden, Isabeau was so determined to defeat Corypheus, no one could stop her from accepting Justice into herself. An abomination of mage and spirit, Justice morphed into a demon of Vengeance. The Vengeance of the Inquisitor-turned-Abomination was unequalled. They single-handedly defeated Corypheus again and again.

Afterwards, Justice-turned-Vengeance left willingly, for Isabeau was no longer of any use. The spirit-turned-demon damaged Isabeau's mind irrevocably. Her spiral into madness persisted as she found herself unable to make sense of the sickening déjà vu gripping her guts. Each time, she sought respite with Solas, too ashamed to admit to the decline in her mental faculties to Cullen.

Solas had held her as she cried, herself defeated in the process of slaughtering Corypheus and the Darkspawn army he had gathered. Isabeau's pain was palpable in every bone of his body. Her hopelessness was evident in every tear that rolled down her cheeks, and each sleepless night she met him on the battlements in her nightclothes. When her mind did not feel her own any longer, she begged him to end her suffering, to end her life.

Never again. He could not grant her request. The pieces of his heart were too small to shatter any further.

This time, determined to prevent Justice from taking a hold of her once more, Solas would do what was necessary to keep them apart. Thus far, he had not alerted Isabeau to her future. The first time Magister Alexius had disrupted the flow of time, all of existence had been threatened. Each instance of time disruption caused an unpredictable ripple effect. Solas knew it was of utmost importance to exercise extreme caution with time itself.

However, Isabeau's sanity was at stake. Solas would no longer watch Justice twist themself into Vengeance inside of her. He would not listen to her desperate pleas for him to end her life after her mind had been dominated, the price she paid for victory. Out of the utter exhaustion of all other options, Solas contemplated attempting to cast his own temporal spell. Time magic seemed to be his final option.

Once again, Isabeau sought him out in the middle of another sleepless night. He waited for the Inquisitor high above Skyhold on the battlements. The air was crisp; a gentle breeze blew steadily across his face and the backs of his bare hands. The wolfskin cloak he wore he had specially made to wrap around her shoulders on these nights. His heart fluttered in his chest as she approached, wearing only her shift and velveteen dressing gown, lambskin slippers on her feet, her calves bare. Her left hand crackled with the green sparks to which he had become accustomed.

Tears had not yet coated her cheeks. Her long hair, just a shade lighter than black, was tucked into her dressing gown. The skin around her eyes looked dark and gaunt. She grew more haggard with each repetition of the Darkspawn battle. Time would not offer Isabeau any respite from the corruption, or from her fate of becoming a Grey Warden. Perhaps Solas could stop Justice this time, though.

"I've come to the conclusion that you don't sleep," Isabeau said, sidling up to Solas, resting her forearms on a crenellation. She scanned the dark peaks of the snow covered Frostbacks in the distance, ". . . like, at all."

"You are correct. I do not sleep . . . like, at all." He said that last part mimicking her tone of voice, one she used only with him, generally insinuating that he was too intelligent to be so clueless.

A smile spread across her face, a stark contrast to her mood a moment ago. "Why don't you look like a person who doesn't sleep?" she asked, turning to him.

"There is a serum for that," he replied, in jest.

"I wish you'd share it with me," she replied.

"You do not want to sleep, though. Do you?" he asked.

"No. I do not want to sleep. The Fade is too loud. Almost as loud as it is here," she told him.

"It is said, that in Elvhenan, they called these mountains the Frostfangs," Solas told her.

Isabeau sighed, letting her eyes drift shut.

"Good, it is working," Solas thought, knowing how much she enjoyed listening to him speak of the ancient world of the Elvhen.

Her stern countenance relaxed further. Solas watched as her breath deepened, and she rolled her head in a circle. Then, Isabeau rubbed at the back of her neck in the manner he had seen Cullen do countless times.

"I love when you tell me about Elvhenan. The ruins are so beautiful. Don't you wish you could have seen it?" Isabeau shivered, pulling the collar of her burgundy velveteen robe up around her exposed neck, tucking in the edges tightly.

Solas removed the wolfskin cloak, settling it across her shoulders, turning her to face him, so that he could fasten the clasps.

"Thank you." Her bright green eyes watched his fingers work the delicate silver filigree closures. Her lips turned up in what amounted to a smile these days. "You warmed it up for me." Their eyes met as he finished the final clasp.

Solas had to stop the nearly overwhelming urge to press his lips to hers, but could not muster the strength to take his hands from her shoulders.

The smile quickly faded from her countenance. Isabeau's disappointment was palpable.

"You insist on walking the midnight battlements in your nightclothes," he replied, finally forcing his hands to fall away from her shoulders.

"I'll give it back to you in the morning," she promised.

He wanted to tell her to keep it, that he had it made for her, that he used the pelt he had been wearing in Elvhenan. But, then he would not have it in his possession to give to her again tomorrow night. So, they danced this dance instead.

They stood, shoulder-to-shoulder. As they shared several long moments of comfortable silence; her breathing slowed to match his. However, before long she became anxious again.

Isabeau scrubbed her hands across her eyes. "I haven't slept in . . . I can't remember the last time I slept! Solas, I'm so tired." Tired did not begin to cover how she felt.

Solas glanced over at her. Her head hung low, her forehead nearly resting on her arms. "I know. And, I have decided to help you."

Isabeau looked at him, her eyes wide with crazed sleeplessness. "How can you help me?"

"Well, I am not going to help you end your life." When she turned to face him, Isabeau's face was desperate and grateful. Solas could not stop himself from reaching for her. Isabeau's long black hair slipped between his fingers as it blew wildly about her. He knew that she knew.

"Solas, how did you know what I was going to ask you?" Isabeau tried hard not to appear as insane as she felt. Her eyes begged him for answers. "What's happening to us?"

By the look on her face, Solas was certain Isabeau was aware of the multitude of times they had already done this before. "I can count four hundred and twenty times we've done this before," he told her. Solas could see her heartbeat in the bulging vein in her neck. "Well, not this exactly."

"You've counted them? I get to around ten and can't bring myself to go any further. I never would have been able to count them all." Her darting eyes settled on his again. "Solas, what's been going on?"

"I believe we have gotten caught in some loop of time magic after encountering Magister Alexius all those many moons ago," he admitted.

"I thought I was going crazy . . . well, crazier than normal." Isabeau covered her eyes with her hands, pressing her fingertips into her forehead with such force that Solas could see small white divots appear on her skin where she had staunched the flow of blood.

Solas took her hands in his. Gathering her fingers into a ball, he blew warm air over the ice-cold digits. "I will not stop you from making your decision. Your decisions are your own. However, the next time, I am not going to allow Justice the chance to offer their services to you. I will stop this nightmare."

Isabeau looked up at him with tears in her eyes. "I can't say 'no.' It's the only way I can think of to guarantee I can keep everyone safe. You can make it stop?"

"I do not know. But, I promise you, I will keep trying, until the end of my days. I swear it to you." He brushed his thumb across her knuckles. "I am sorry I have let it go on for so long."

"Has it been in your power to control?" she asked, the smallest hint of spite in her voice and co*ck to her chin.

He shook his head. "No. There is nothing about you that I seem to be able to control, Isabeau Trevelyan. I cannot be sure that there is now.. Nothing else I have tried has made a big enough impact to keep Justice away from you."

"A wise wizard once told me never to apologize for something that was no fault of my own, that our words are important." She swallowed the lump in her throat, placing her hand over his heart.

Solas covered her hand with his. "You honor me, throwing my words back in my face, as you would say. I have never attempted something as dangerous as time magic. I feel as if any wisdom I have had has failed me. However, I see no other way."

They stood so close. He could feel her breath on his lips.

She swiped her palms across her cheeks. "Do whatever it takes. Kill me again, and let's get on with it."

His eyes narrowed at her as one hand snaked out, settling in the small of her back, drawing them even closer together. "You think that your death is what triggers the repetition?"

Isabeau searched her memories. "I come up here, beg you to end my suffering, we argue about assisted suicide, you lay me down in the Rotunda, and everything just fades away. It feels so peaceful. I had just assumed . . ."

"If we had truly exhausted all of the options, I would do it." He let his fingertips trace the high arch of her cheekbone. "In case you do not know by now, I would do anything for you."

Her eyelids drifted shut as she turned into his touch. "I do know that." She let her lips brush against his fingers. Covering his hand with hers, she pressed a kiss to his knuckles. "I'm sorry for taking advantage of you. I can't ask Cullen to do it. I just can't. I'd never be able to look at him again, when time restarts. I know that he would do anything for me. But, I just can't . . . I can't ask it of him." Now, her cheeks were soaked in tears. "I'm sorry that I— "

Solas cupped the back of her neck in his palm, bringing her in against his chest, finally crushing her to him. He pressed his lips to her temple. "Shhh," he managed as he choked on a sob. "Anything means anything. No, I have not been showing you the mercy you have begged for. I have been casting a repose spell on you. That is what triggers the loop to reset. I have been keeping you in this nightmare. And, I am so sorry for my part in it."

Isabeau clutched at his shirt, her forehead resting on his chest. She sobbed in his arms, harder than he had ever seen before. He could not fight the tears that rolled down his cheeks onto the top of her head. Blame and guilt had weighed heavy on his heart, growing heavier with each passing lifetime. Each time he watched as Isabeau allowed Justice into her, his heart broke a little more. Each time he failed to protect her from the destruction it would bring, he felt more at fault. Solas had grown torn in his desire to allow her to live her own life and make her own decisions for her future, versus wanting to help her correct what he deemed "harmful choices." He would never remove the power of consent from her life, as it had been from his millennia ago. But, he could not watch it happen again, not now that she fully realized the after effects of Justice.

The burden of knowing what she had been repeatedly suffering began to weigh on her. "This whole time you've been saving my life, and I thought you were ending it?" she asked, her voice cracking.

"I suppose that is one way to look at it," Solas whispered. "I am grateful. All I can see is my repeated failure to protect you."

She looked up at him, her eyes glassy and wide with realization."It is not your responsibility to protect me from Vengeance."

Solas took a deep breath to steady himself. "I am trying to protect you from yourself, Vherlin."

Isabeau straightened her slumped shoulders, lifting her chin high. "Do it. Put that spell on me. Let's do this one more time, and only one more time." Her thumb found itself tracing the edge of his bottom lip. Pulling the edge down, she settled into the dimple of his chin.

Solas took her hand in his, pressing his lips to her fingertips. He nodded in affirmation. "One more time. First, I have something to ask of you. There was a time when I would not have asked for your permission. But, now I must."

Isabeau laid her hand on his cheek, her heart prostrate before him as she echoed his words, "I would do anything for you."

He squeezed her hand, swallowing the lump in his throat. Maybe she did love him. "I ask that you give me your memories, all your knowledge of what has been happening here. I fear if you realize what is happening, that your magic may inadvertently interfere when I cast a spell using time magic to try to get us out of this trapped existence, like what happened at the Conclave. There will be consequences of accessing magic I do not fully understand. I cannot predict what will happen. Any interference could be catastrophic. I will return all the memories back to you when we are safely on the other side. I promise."

The shocked look upon her face intensified. "You can take memories from people's minds?"

"No. It is more like closing a door. Or, in this case, closing four hundred doors." Solas could see doubt play across the wrinkling of her eyebrows.

"So, I won't remember any of this?" Isabeau asked, a look of surprised relief flooding her.

"No," he answered again.

"Please, close all the doors. I don't want any of these memories of Justice or Vengeance. You can keep them." Her hands clutched at the back of his shirt. Her chest heaved in great heaving gasps of desperation. "Take it from me, please?" she begged.

"You will need them one day, to find strenth again," Solas told her. "But, I will take them for now. I would that you know peace."

The muscles of her arms tremored as her grip on him remained tight. "If I ever feel strong again, I will have you to thank. I trust you. Before you take my memories, there's something I need to tell you, something I'm likely not to remember the next time we meet." Isabeau searched his eyes, her mouth set brave in the face of dread. "I'm in love with you. And, I need to know: Solas, are you in love with me?"

For a brief flash, he considered hardening his heart as he had done hundreds of times before. He considered answering, "no." But, he would never lie to her again. Not after this moment. "Ar lath ma, vhenan," he answered.

"What does that mean?" she asked.

Solas chuckled softly. "I do not believe I should answer that question," he said in a breathy whisper.

Solas felt the remnants of a repose spell rinsing out of him. It was happening yet again. That strangely familiar fog clouded his mind. Moments ago, he had been holding a sobbing Isabeau in his arms, promising her she would no longer feel pain, that she would no longer suffer those long sleepless nights after Vengeance tore through her body and soul. Moment ago he had finally admitted his feelings to her after she had lain herself prostrate before him. He had never seen her so utterly vulnerable. She had set her fate in his hands, and he would protect it at any cost, even if she never loved him again.

The morning after the Darkspawn ambushed Skyhold, the Great Hall had become the infirmary. The activity of caring for the wounded rang throughout its stone walls: coughing, moaning, whispers and soothing words, the swish of palms on hands and foreheads, the clink of scissors on wash basins, the flapping of clean linens being spread over less clean mattresses. Solas had been so busy since the Darkspawn attack, healing the most severely wounded, he had not even had a chance to speak to Isabeau to see how she was doing. In being honest with himself, he admitted to avoiding her, as he knew there was little solace he could offer as she sat next to Cullen's bed hoping he would awaken soon.

Mother Giselle approached Solas. Certainly, she had been on her feet since before the attack started, preparing for the aftermath of the onslaught. The Chantry Mother had treated a few burns Isabeau sustained during the battle. The scalding hot oil they had dumped on top of the darkspawn as they broke through the gate to reach the first portcullis had splashed everyone defending the gatehouse.

Out of concern, Mother Giselle mentioned to Solas that the burns were not too severe, however Isabeau was covered in quite a lot of foul-smelling blood that did not appear to be her own. The look in Mother Giselle's eyes told Solas she was concerned it was Darkspawn blood. Solas offered a nod of acknowledgement.

Mother Giselle, patted him on the arm. "She told me she did not require any further healing. However, she is the Inquisitor and should be given a healer's assessment. Do you not agree, Healer?"

"Of course. Thank you for noticing. I have been giving her perhaps too wide of a berth trying to respect her grief." Solas gazed at Isabeau, where she had been sitting at Cullen's bedside for the past twelve hours. She had not even taken a break to eat or drink. She just sat there, holding his hand, and crying.

"Cullen's leg has been set. However, it could use your touch as well. The other healers are not as talented as you. And, the break was quite severe," Mother Giselle informed him.

"You flatter me, your Holiness," Solas blushed. He inclined his head briefly. "Thank you. I will attend to the Inquisitor and the Commander."

The braid in Isabeau's hair looked familiar, yet different. There was an extra braid on the side of her head that was not usually there. The plait followed the curve of her ear, tucked behind the rounded lobe, hanging down over her shoulder, just like the braid she wore on the road, that one lifetime when they had made love in the Fade.

That one time. She had given herself to him so freely, had come onto him so strongly in her grief. He would not allow her use her grief as an excuse again. She loved Cullen. She always would. They were clearly bound to each other through time. Again and again, in every single lifetime, Isabeau and Cullen found one another.

Only that once, had she turned to Solas to satiate her carnal needs. However, she always sought out Solas to help with the Vengeance demon that would find her after this battle. Solas' knowledge of the future had not yet helped him navigate the waters of Isabeau's tempestuous battle with the spirit world.

Solas approached from the opposite side of the bed from where Isabeau sat next to Cullen. He crouched next to the cot, placing one hand on Cullen's thigh, the other on his shin. "Mother Giselle believes more healing would do him some good."

Isabeau nodded. "His leg was trapped under that boulder. Bull got in front of him, took the brunt of it. I could hardly even see him under Bull. Neither of them have woken up yet."

Dorian walked past Cullen's cot to the Iron Bull's. Solas snagged him by the arm. "Dorian, would you sit with Bull and Cullen while Isabeau takes a moment to herself?"

"Why, of course," Dorian answered.

Isabeau extricated her hand from Cullen's, running her fingertips across the back of it after setting it down next to him. She tucked the blanket over his arm so his hand wouldn't get cold. Solas watched as she brushed the hair from his forehead yet another time. Before she stood up, she pressed her lips to his forehead. "I love you."

When she looked at Solas, he noticed small purple blotches breaking out under her eyes and along her neck.

"Oh, dear," said Dorian, whose eyes scanned Isabeau from head-to-toe.

"Dorian!" Solas chided.

"f*ck, sorry. My filter hasn't yet returned," Dorian begrudged.

"What is it?" Isabeau asked, agast.

"Nothing, you look . . . fi-i-i-ne," Dorian lied.

"I, obviously, do not look'fine' Dorian," Isabeau screeched.

Solas took her by the shoulders, wrapping an arm around her. "Please, come in here with me, Inquisitor." He lead her into the Rotunda as she glared over her shoulder at Dorian.

"What is it, Solas?" Isabeau's voice was still shrill.

Solas took her hands in his. "Isabeau, I regret to be the bearer of this news, however, I must inform you that I believe you have been contaminated with the Darkspawn corruption." He raised one of his hands to his throat. "You have broken out with the telltale rash on the neck. It has already begun spreading up your face. I did not wish to alarm you there in the Great Hall. You will need to be quarantined to the Rotunda. You will not be able to see Cullen again right now. The risk of you spreading it to someone who is sick or injured is too high."

Both of her hands clutched at her neck. She turned on her heel, trotting over the the mirror on the wall near one of Solas' many frescoed doorways. "I could have given the Taint to Cullen?" Her voice cracked under the strain of her sudden fright.

Solas took her shoulders in his hands, standing behind her. "Yes. I will inform Dorian promptly. And we will monitor him for any signs. I must make sure to inspect the rest of the people who were on the gatehouse tower with you."

"Dorian, Marnie, that new elf girl . . . um, I can't remember her name. The loud one."

"Elliara," Solas answered.

"Yes, that one. Uh, Blackwall was up there with us, too. And, maybe Varric. Then, there were all those scouts who brought up the cauldrons of oil." Her eyes darted to and fro across her bandaged burns. ". . . the splashing oil! That's what carried the Darkspawn blood up to us."

Solas nodded. "That sounds likely. Or it could have been from the one Darkspawn that made it up there, thrown by one of those monstrous ogres, I believe. Surely, Blackwall felled it?"

Isabeau, shook her head. "I don't know. I can't remember. It all feels like it happened to someone else, someone far away." She clenched her eyes tightly shut.

Solas put a hand on her shoulder. "What is it? A headache?"

"No. I hear someone talking to me. Solas? Am I hearing the Calling?" Isabeau's eyes were dilated when she looked at him from the mirror which she peered into.

He had tried, and failed, time and time again, not to lose himself in those green eyes. "I do not know." He had never seen her so afraid. Solas wrapped his arms around her. Isabeau turned, bowing her head to his chest. She crumpled against him, the tears falling freely.

"What's happening to me?" she asked.

"I do not know for sure. But, I promise you I will find out." He held her. She needed to be held.

"Well, can you tell it to go away?" she asked.

"No, but you can," Solas replied.

"I'm too tired, Solash," Isabeau began slurring her words. "I'll probably just let it take over. Can't you do it?"

"What I can do is place you under a spell, in a sort of magical repose, to stop the advancement of the corruption on your body and your mind, and to stop the voice." He hoped that this time the spell would not trigger time to reset. "I can keep you under the spell until Leliana, Josephine, and Cassandra decide how best to help you. I believe they will call upon the Warden Commander. I believe it is highly likely you will need to undergo the Joining, Isabeau."

Isabeau's body folded into Solas' arms as the long previous night caught up to her. She clutched at his wolfskin cloak, her legs buckling. "Sorry— I . . ." She looked up at him, that look of terror returned. "Solas, I'm so scared."

He swept an arm under her legs, drawing her off the ground, and up to his chest. Her arms encircled his neck, as her body curled around his. The fine hairs on his arms and the back of his neck prickled as her breath poured over his skin. "I promise, I am not going to let any further harm come to you."

"You're so warm," she sighed in a long exhale. "I trust you ta-take-care-of-me."

She was so honest in that moment as her body began to succumb to the corruption it had been fighting. It had been three thousand years since anyone had told Solas they trusted him. "Thank you," he whispered to her, his throat tight. "I promise never to let you down again."

With great effort, she looked up at him, running her fingertips across his jaw. Her thumb settled into the dimple of his chin. "Did you know we had sex, like yesterday? Like, yesterday's yesterday?"

"Isabeau, are you saying that yesterday you went into the Fade to rescue Cullen?" Solas asked, realizing he was encountering yet another jump through time.

Her eyes fell closed again as she nodded, in an uncoordinated fashion, her neck failing to direct her head. "Yah. Me an' Cullen, we walked out of the Fade into all this Darkspawn. What's wrong with my head? Everything seems fuzzy." She ran her hand across his round, hairless scalp. "'Cept you. Yer not fuzzy. Yer head's so smooth. I like it. E'rytime I see you, I jus' wanna rub it."

Solas carried her to the chair in front of his desk as he tried to avoid the hand slapping at his face. "Isabeau, can you sit here for a moment. Let me get some help." As he sat her in the chair, and began removing his arm, she toppled away from him. His arm shot out, supporting her. "No. Well, I guess I will have to do this the easy way."

Solas reached out with his mind, mentally tapping Dorian. "Dorian, may I?"

Dorian replied in Solas' mind. "Well, I haven't experienced this since I left Tevinter. How are you doing this?"

"I will show you later. Can you have a bed brought to the Rotunda for Isabeau? Quickly, please?" He had held onto that secret for a very long time. He could not have predicted how good it felt to have, finally, let it out.

Solas crouched behind Isabeau, holding her up in the chair, an arm behind her shoulders. He held the other hand on her sternum, just beneath her collarbone. One finger settled on the warm, damp-with-sweat skin of her neck. He exhaled a gruff grief-tinged sigh.

Isabeau's head flopped to the other side of her neck. "Wazzat noise mean? You make it all the times."

"Well, since you could be trying to die on me, I suppose I will tell you the truth." Inadvertently, he made the noise again, smirking at himself. "It is how much I love you," Solas admitted.

Her reply was snappier than Solas expected. "You don't love me. Arntchoo too old for me? Dat's what my Mom would say if she met you." Isabeau still slurred her words, but her mind was certainly her own.

"Your mother, of course, would be correct. I am much too old for you," he replied.

Isabeau's head bobbed down towards her chest. Then, snapped back up to look at Solas. "I'm pushing thirty. I don't think you're too old for me. How old is you?"

Solas cupped Isabeau's face. "May I put some healing into you, please?"

Isabeau nodded, spastically. "Yes, please. Make it better. My head hurts so bad." She curled into a ball.

"I'm older than I look," he half-answered her. With a hand on her shoulder, Solas went around the chair to sit on the desk in front of her. "I knew your head hurt. You are not very good at lying to me, Inquisitor."

Isabeau laid her head against his belly, wrapping her arms around him. "You always make it better." Nuzzling her cheek against the soft wolf fur, she made small, tired, sucking noises with her mouth. "I'm glad you're old. You know a lot of magic I ain't never even heard'a before."

The top of her dark head shimmered in the flickering lamplight. When the impulse to run his hand across it came, he did not fight it. Over and over again he let her glimmering tresses run through his fingers as he brushed her long hair out of her face. Eventually, he let himself twirl that thin braid behind her ear around his fingers.

She made small moaning noises of happiness against him. "You call me 'Inquisitor' when you're trying not to be attracted to me." When he did not respond quickly enough, she added, ". . . See, I notice you."

He forced the words through his tightening throat. "I know it is not my job to keep you alive, Isabeau Trevelyan. However, if you will allow me to keep doing it, I will, gladly, until my dying day." The next words caught in his throat. His eyes burned with tears. "Ar lath ma, Vherlin."

She scootched forward in the chair, getting closer to him. "Thaz so muchem better. Thank you. Wazzat elfy part mean?"

He was quiet for several long moments, wondering how much of this she might recall. "I promise, I will tell you one day."

She made a noise of derision in the back of her throat. "Solas?" she asked, waiting for his response.

"What is it, Inquisitor?"

"Can I keep you?" Isabeau asked, turning her head to look up at him.

He could not hide the tears running down his face as she peered up at him through heavy, wet lashes. "Forever," he answered.

With her cheek resting on his thigh, Isabeau succumbed to Solas' spell.

"I didn't want to interrupt. I saw nothing," Dorian said, holding an armful of bedding, leaning against the door to the Great Hall. "But, if you are going to speak to me telepathically, I suppose it's nice to know what I'm working with. I had some assumptions about a secret affair between you two, but I didn't know you were in love with one another. I should have. That's what it would take to get her to look at someone else the way she looks at Cullen. I was beginning to think it was all in my head." Dorian's brow furrowed as he realized he had been right about something.

"She loves Cullen. She is merely infatuated with me, lured in by my power. Which is why I do not go flashing it around, Dorian!" Solas' voice was sharp.

"Your secret is safe with me. I, too, know power when I see it. No one could pay me to double cross you. Of that you can be sure," Dorian promised.

"That is why I reveal my secrets to you," Solas told him.

"Certainly not all of them. Not yet, at the very least. I do look forward to the next one, though. And, to telepathy lessons that do not involve blood magic. Which means it must involve our connection to the Fade, yes?" Dorian asked, his eyebrows and interest piqued.

"Yes, something like that," Solas replied, with a dismissive wave.

Dorian opened the door for the scouts to bring in a camping cot and mattress. Solas pointed to where he wanted it. After the scouts left, Dorian repositioned it where Solas had actually wanted it, and made the bed. Holding a corner of the sheet, Dorian unfurled it over the stained, striped mattress. "She can love two people, you know. I think she has for a long time, actually. She may marry Cullen time and time again, but it is you she turns to any time she has a problem she can't solve herself. Like Vengeance."

Ah, so Dorian was also aware of what was happening with time. "She will never love me the way she loves him," Solas said, stroking her hair.

"Because you are an unlovable, mysterious nomad who has more magical aptitude in his little finger than any Magister?" Dorian asked.

"Because I can never tell her the truth," Solas answered.

"Ah, well. She does deserve the truth." Dorian looked at Solas. "Are you sure that you can't tell her the truth? If there was anyone who you could tell the truth to . . . wouldn't it be her? I mean, I just overheard you tell 'Kitten' that you love her."

"Yes, it would be her. However, she would never believe me." Solas gazed down at her, where she had fallen asleep in his lap.

Dorian set his hand on Isabeau's back, rubbing softly. "Beau-Beau, come here for a tick, won't you?"

Isabeau turned into Dorian's arms, allowing Solas to extricate himself from her grasp. Solas stood, stretched, then stooped to gather her in his arms. She curled around him as he picked her up and carried her to the cot.

"I'll make sure she isn't disturbed," Dorian said, his hand on the door.

"If anyone else has the Corruption, bring them here, too, Dorian," Solas told him.

Dorian nodded.

"And, Dorian. Can you please watch for a bit? See if you can learn the spell I chant, and relieve me in the morning?" Solas asked.

"Of course." Dorian took a seat at the desk, leaning over Solas' grimoire.

Solas waved a hand, allowing Dorian to read through the cipher floating around the page of text.

"I do not know this much Elven," Dorian said, reading Solas' handwriting that coalesced through the disappearing cipher.

"Few living today do," Solas replied.

"Hmmm," Dorian wondered aloud.

Solas knelt at the head of Isabeau's bed after pulling the covers up over her shoulders, resting her head on his thighs. He ran his thumbs across her forehead. "This time will be different. I promise. Perhaps Dorian is right."

"I heard that," Dorian said.

"You heard nothing," Solas quipped.

Chapter 16: Becoming. "Inquisitor Isabeau's Tale", Part II: Fading Through Time. Chapter 3.

Chapter Text

Inquisitor Isabeau's Tale

Part II: Fading Through Time

Chapter 3: Becoming

Doodley-doo, doodley-doo, doodley-do!

Chapter 3, Part 1: the First Darkspawn Attack

Isabeau

The late morning air was still cool and crisp as Cullen and I ventured across Skyhold together towards the sparring yard. I felt the people's eyes upon us. Cullen drew eyes everywhere he went. I seemed to find that lately, so did I. I felt as if every lonely heart in Skyhold wanted Cullen. I knew the way they looked at him. Once, I had looked at him that way too, in ignorance that he could feel anything for a Circle mage.

The sparring ring, that had been recently erected in the main bailey in front of the steps leading to the Great Hall, was easily the most public space in all of Skyhold. A throng of people had begun to gather around the perimeter of the fence.

"It seems as if they know what's coming," Cullen said, surveying the crowd.

"I think they're right," I replied.

I noted Cullen brought neither his old Templar sword and shield, nor his Inquisition weapons. Instead, he simply used the plain wooden sparring sword and shield that the recruits used for training. Since I didn't have any "sparring" staves, I chose my Circle staff. I had acquired several more powerful staves since joining the Inquisition. Some were so old, that Solas had trouble identifying them. I kept them in my quarters, leaning against the wall in my closet.

"So . . ." I drawled, turning to him. "We'll practice it the way we went over it in the War Room?"

"That should work, as long as you keep in mind that while you are a mage, I am a Templar no longer" he replied, holding the wooden shield out to me.

I thumped it once with my staff. "I won't hurt you. I promise."

"You're gonna easy on him, right?" Varric whispered into my ear, startling me.

I jumped.

"Sorry, Boss. Didn't mean to sneak up on you, there," he apologized.

"Yes, you did," I exclaimed.

"Don't wound his pride in front of everyone. Let it be a draw," Dorian suggested into my other ear.

"Where did you come from," I shrieked.

Dorian patted me on the arm. "Oh, Beau-Beau. We weren't even trying to sneak up on you. Don't clean his clock, okay? You're so hyper-focused lately. He's been practically retired since joining the Inquisition. No one wants to see Cullen get his ass handed to him. Wait, I do want to see Cullen's ass though. So . . ." Dorian digressed.

"What Sparkler here is trying to say, is that when courting, boosting a man's ego can go a long way," Varric agreed.

"I'm going to hit him with a lightning bolt," I told them.

"That sounds like a strong first move," Varric stated, doubting my choice.

"That's a little mean, don't you think, Beau?" Dorian agreed.

"Naw. He's got this," I told them.

He held is sword in his shield hand down at his side. "Inquisitor, shall we show them how a mage and a Templar fight?" I watched the apple of his throat bob nervously. I wanted to run my tongue up it.

Oh no. I was very distracted. Varric was right.

"Just as we discussed in the War Room?" Cullen asked, in clarification.

"I think that's a good plan. Although, I admit, I don't know that I exactly have a sparring setting on this thing," I said, setting the butt of my staff on the ground.

Cullen feigned surprise. "I've seen you in action. This does not surprise me. Then, I won't take it easy on you."

I laid a hand on his breastplate, looking up into his golden amber eyes. "I wouldn't want you to, Commander.

He extended his hand. I took his wrist. He wrapped his fingers around mine. The firmness of his grip on me send chills through me. In my core, I wanted him. I wanted to straddle him in this courtyard after knocking him down and f*ck him right here, so that everyone knew we were f*cking. I had never had such a visceral feeling of wanting to nearly own someone before. But, when I watched the way other people looked at him, I felt the need to either cover him up and take him away, or to plaster my name on his forehead. Both feelings gave me some decent guilt to deal with, as I didn't really believe people could belong to other people. That was slavery.

I believe we belong to ourselves. Personally, I feel that I must identify as an individual who had decided to devote a portion of their life to another. This staff in my hand belongs to me. Cullen does not.

However, in this moment, I want to own him.

"Inquisitor?" Cullen asked, a confused look on his face.

Oh, I was daydreaming about straddling him. sh*t. What did he say? "Yes," I answered, hoping that was the right answer to continue.

I thumped my staff against his proffered shield in a final salute.

He turned, crouching into an en garde stance. His shield was in front of his body, the angle aiming any spells out of his face. His sword was held pointed at me.

I stood my ground, meeting his eyes. His nostrils flared. He nodded. I nodded, agreeing to begin. He advanced at me.

I fired a shot at his feet. A green bolt of lightning hit the ground. A clump of dirt and rocks exploded showering many others in the area. Cullen jumped back, narrowing his eyes at me, recalculating his approach.

I wasn't going to hurt him. But, I at least had to try. He paced a little longer than I had expected, but eventually he met me in an en garde stance once again. I let him advance, before firing another bolt of green lightning, this time at his shield.

Although we had reviewed our plan of attack in the War Room, it appeared that talking about it and doing it were two very different experiences for Cullen. The surprise on his face lessened, as he prepared for what came next.

He dodged left as I fired towards him again. I had seen the foot that was prepared to push off, and fired another bolt at the ground towards where he should have been in a moment.

He had predicted that, immediately coming up to his feet when they hit the ground, and jumping backwards out of the way. The look on his face when he looked my direction again was one of fury. Yes, I could have significantly hurt him if any of those attacks had missed their mark and hit him instead. The heat of battle began to fuel him. He balled his hands into fists. With a shrug of his shoulders and a roll of his neck, he turned towards me again.

A wave washed through me stealing the spell at the tip of my tongue. I felt more empty than I had in a very long time. I could hardly recall the last time a Templar had nullified my magic, surely since before my Harrowing.

Cullen had performed an act that only a Templar on lyrium should be able to perform. I knew that he hadn't had any lyrium in the year since leaving Kirkwall. He was not slowed. Cullen's sword arm came swinging down on me. A beam of bright light crested from his sword in my direction taking the breath from my lungs, and pulling my magic out of my grasp. I caught the wooden sparring sword with my staff. He knocked me to the ground. Fortunately, I had spent all those years in the Circle sparring with my brothers.

As I gasped for breath, I reached for the sword. My hand crackled with green sparks. The sword exploded in a shower of green light. He ripped my staff from my hands, sending it flying across the yard. Swinging the shield at me, Cullen's eyes focused on the mark on my hand.

Once again, I felt the Templar magic surface, stealing the magic from the tip of my tongue. Since it seemed he was going to continue to take my spells, I would not cast a spell again. As I caught his shield in my hands, struggling for breath, I concentrated on bringing forth the Fade.

The expression on Cullen's face was not one I had ever seen before. He held anger, fear, and determination in those eyes. He swung at me with his fist.

I shrouded us each in an arcane barrier to protect us from the shield I was about to shatter. With my mind, I reached for the unstable energy of the Fade, sending the bright chartreuse light of the towards him. The wooden shield exploded in a shower of splinters and green sparks. I closed my eyes, turning my head away from him.

Cullen was thrown off of me. I vaguely saw him sprawled at the feet of the onlookers, who were shielding their faces with the arms. I laid there in the fetal position, waiting for his retaliation, gritting my teeth against an attack that never came.

I realized I was lying there with my eyes closed for far too long. When I opened them, the crowd had already started to disperse. Everyone stared off towards the gate.

Cullen had left. He was walking very quickly towards the stairs to his office.

"What happened?" I asked.

"Well . . ." Varric began, "everyone thought he was going to wallop you."

"Then he just stopped, dead in his tracks," Dorian added.

"And, left," Varric finished.

"Beau, he was using Templar tricks," Dorian said.

"So, he's a Templar," Varric said.

"He's not taking lyrium," Dorian informed him.

"Oh," Varric shook his head, finally realizing the weight of what had just happened.

"And, he just left?" I asked, mouth agape. "Why would he leave?"

Dorian put a hand on my shoulder. "I don't think he liked what he was doing to you."

"Oh." I watched him climb the stairs to the gate tower, and disappear inside. "Should I go talk to him?"

Dorian looked at Varric. Varric looked at Dorian. They both shrugged.

Without further discussion, I took off after Cullen. I found him in his office, his hands spread wide as he leaned on his desk, a pose similar to earlier in the War Room, though he looked far more defeated than when we had been making eyes at each other from across the table at this morning's meeting.

He didn't acknowledge my entry. I closed the door behind me, waiting several long moments to see if he wanted to say something to me. When I realized he was choosing to remain silent, I spoke.

"I'm sorry."

His head shot up, his eyes boring through me.

"I wasn't trying to hurt you," I told him. Was he going to say anything?

I watched his jaw clench and unclench, over and over again. He was angry.

"I had suspected your Templar abilities were latent. I thought perhaps they would manifest . . . if I just pushed you a little. I suppose that was wrong to do without your permission."

His eyebrows flared. He continued to remain quiet.

I thought about asking if he'd like to punish me, but couldn't think of how to word it without making it overtly sexual, which is what I really wanted to do anyhow.

"Isabeau, I accept your apology. You made the right call." The expression on his face hadn't changed.

"Are you mad the Templars lied to you about needing lyrium to do that?" I asked.

He shook his head. "Not exactly. I suppose I expected it, honestly. I just wasn't brave enough to test the theory myself."

"Then, I have to ask what I've done to make you angry?"

His face softened then. In an instant he became sad, concerned. He closed his eyes, hanging his head. "I was going to hurt you."

Shame. Somehow, I hadn't recognized it until now.

"All of your attacks were carefully aimed so as not to hurt me." He swallowed, clenching his eyes tightly shut. "And, I was going to hurt you. I was going to shatter your barrier. I would have been on top of you and slit your throat before you could have even started to rise." I watched tears run down his cheeks. "It is what I would have had to do to Trio if she had failed her Harrowing. I saw her in that moment, instead of you." His eyes were far away. "I could not have killed her then, as I would not harm you just now. I would have been slain on the spot. I would have died for her."

I took a step towards him. "Have you done that to many mages before?"

He retreated a step, lifting his hands away from the desk. He swiped at the wet trails on his cheeks. "No. None."

"You discovered that something you thought long gone, something that was given to you by lyrium, isn't from the lyrium at all. It's inside of you, Cullen. Does knowing that make you want to hurt me?"

He looked at me with uncertainty. "In the moment, I remembered when it did, like while I was stationed in Kirkwall."

The despair in his heart poured out of him. I couldn't leave him feeling this way. I didn't know what to do. This was usually the time I did the wrong thing. Why should now be any different?

I walked around the table to stand in front of him. I raised my hand to throw a lightning bolt.

Cullen grabbed my hand, nullifying the magic before it could leave my body. I felt cold as he sapped my magic away. The hairs on my arms rose as my skin prickled.

Again I summoned the magic.

Again, he stole it from my fingertips.

His eyes met mine. "What are you doing?"

"I'm trying to prove to you that you don't fear me because I'm a mage."

He smiled. "Oh, I've already realized that."

"You have?"

He slid his hand up from where he grasped my wrist, to my hand, interlacing his fingers with mine. "What I realized down there, the moment before I threw you to the ground, was that I am in love with you." There was no joy in his voice. He sounded forlorn. "I would have died for Trio at her Harrowing. I loved her." He pulled me towards him, meeting my eyes. "I would die for you."

I stepped back, taking my hand from his grasp. He couldn't be in love with me. He had barely flirted back. He didn't have any feelings for me. Certainly not like I had been having for him these past few months. Did he just blurt out that he was in love with me? Why else would he say that?

"Isabeau?" He looked confused still.

"What?" I asked.

"Well, I just told you something embarrassing and extremely unprofessional, and you went silent as the grave." His eyes were wide.

"I— just—," didn't have any words in the moment. It was as if it were happening to somebody else.

"I apologize." Cullen stepped away, back behind his desk. "I should have kept that to myself. It's just been . . . an emotional day, I suppose."

I stood there, rooted to the flagstone beneath my feet.

He cleared his throat. "Perhaps we should just see each other at the meeting this evening?"

"And do this all over again?" I asked.

"That's not precisely what I had in mind, no."

I looked at him now. The tips of his ears were bright red. His cheeks and neck were flushed a shade or two darker. He couldn't make eye contact with me.

"Did you say you were in love with me?" I asked, co*cking my head.

"I'm sorry. I felt that I needed to be honest with you about what happened back there, why I froze." He cleared his throat again, diverting his gaze. He stammered over words, but determinedly spat them out. "I feel it's important for combat training partners to vocalize their concerns to each other, especially when life and death are concerned. You deserve the truth. However, I should have erred on the side of caution with my personal feelings, I realize."

I stepped back up to him. I had to follow his eyes with mine for a moment, stepping in front of where he had turned his head before he deigned to look at me. "We've only known each other a few months."

More throat clearing. "I know. It's inappropriate. I should have kept that to myself. I don't wish to make you uncomfortable."

I reached a hand over his shoulder, sliding my palm against his neck. I stood on my tip-toes to bring my lips up to his. Our mouths met for the first time, passionately greeting each other. He reached behind me, settling one hand in the small of my back, pressing our hips together. With his other hand, he cupped the back of my head, working his fingertips into my hair.

The door creaked open. Cullen's lips pulled away. He looked over my shoulder. I looked over my shoulder. Jim, one of the scouts, stood in the doorway, his nose buried into a clipboard. When he looked up, his face turned bright red, and he quickly pulled the door shut behind him.

Cullen turned back to me. He relaxed in my arms a little. "I'm sorry for the interruption. That was most unfortunate."

I ran my fingers through the thick blonde hair at his temple. "Sometimes, I think I've been in love with you since the moment I saw you."

A smile spread across his face ear-to-ear. "I can't stop thinking about you," he admitted.

I kissed him again. His tongue parted my lips. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders as he swept his arms under my backside. I wrapped my legs around his waist, clutching him in my thighs. He turned, setting me on the desktop.

We devoured each other. I ripped the bear hide mantle from his shoulders, tossing it to the floor. He ripped his mouth away from mine, catching my gaze with his. With a wild sweep of his arm he cleared his desk, knocking a bottle of Thedas to the ground. The green glass shattered against the stone.

We both jumped as a knock sounded at the door. Cassandra's voice asked, "Is everything okay in there, Commander. I heard you were upset, and came to check on you."

Cullen cleared his throat, speaking softly to me. "We'll continue this later, perhaps?" His eyes were hopeful, the mischief from earlier returning.

I nodded, kissing him briefly on the lips, yet still lingering to save the moment.

"Cassandra, I'll be right there," he replied to her.

I hopped off the desk, straightening my bodice, standing upright.

He opened the door. Cassandra stepped in, surprised to see me.

"Oh, I heard you two had gotten in a fight, and weren't speaking. I thought that sounded highly unlikely. It appears, perhaps, I was right?" She obviously knew she had interrupted a romantic moment. I had seen the smut novels she read, and the copy of ' Swords and Shields' she kept in her knapsack. She was too observant not to know.

"We did have a bit of a tryst," he coughed, ". . . a spat. A bit of a spat."

"And, we have since made up," I finished.
"Ah, all is well then." It wasn't a question. Cassandra backed out, slowly, and less embarrassed than Jim had earlier. As the door clicked shut behind her, I swore I heard a giggle.

I had a feeling someone owed her a sovereign.

Cullen and I spent the rest of the day in each other's company. We walked hand-in-hand to the Great Hall for lunch. If everyone stared, I didn't notice. No one at the table mentioned it, though all were in attendance. After lunch, we commandeered Josie's office, reading through all of the Starkhaven Trevelyan correspondence, and any other missives from the Free Marches.

After reading through all of my letters, we agreed it was foolish for me to travel all the way to Starkhaven to see family I had never met, in order to prove I was who I said I was.

"Your merits speak for themselves," Cullen said. "Either they support the Inquisition or they don't. Whether or not they believe you is inconsequential. Your actions speak more than your name does, if you don't mind me saying."

"I agree. And, no, I don't mind." He sat behind Josephine's desk. Momentarily, I wanted to sweep all of Josie's things onto the floor. However, the longer I gawked, I noticed Cullen looking every bit the proper lord, reminding me of my father. I thought of how Father and all four of my brothers died at the Conclave.

"What's wrong?" Cullen asked.

If I mentioned my family, I would have broken down into a blubbering mess of tears. I didn't want to ruin the moment. "It doesn't bother you that I'm nobility?" I asked.

"You've asked me a hundred times not to call you 'Lady Trevelyan,' so no. It doesn't bother me. Does it bother you that I'm not?" he responded.

"No, I'm grateful for it. Being the Inquisitor, if that's what I am, is bad enough. I just want things to be simple, like they are between us." I sat sideways in an armchair by the fire, dangling my feet over an arm.

"That may be the key to making this work between us." He steepled his fingers beneath his chin.

"Keeping it simple?" I asked.

He nodded. "Everything else feels overly complicated. But, not with you." He stood, walking over towards the fire to stand behind my chair. I rose up to my knees to meet him.

"I think if we base this relationship on sex and magic, then things should remain pretty simple. Don't you?" I interlaced my fingers, clasping my hands behind his neck.

"Sex and magic, huh?" he asked, bringing his lips down to mine. He nuzzled against my neck. "We only have one of those covered so far."

I took his earlobe between my teeth, gently gnawing on it. "It should make the next six hours or so pretty interesting, don't you think?"

His warm palms slid over my back, as his lips met mine. When finally we needed to come up for air, he asked, "are we going to get caught doing this all over Skyhold today?"

"I hope so," I whispered against his lips.

After dinner that evening, we sat at the table in the Great Hall long after our friends started to excuse themselves. The inhabitants of Skyhold slowly trickled out of the dinner hall, back to their lives. Most were headed to the Herald's Rest for drinks. Vivienne, Blackwall, and Cassandra generally retired to their quarters after dinner, though tonight I failed to notice.

I had propped my feet up into Cullen's lap across the table from me quite some time ago. He rubbed his hand over my calf through my tall boots. I felt a tug on my shoelace. Slowly, grommet by grommet, Cullen loosened my boots all the way down my leg, gently sliding his fingertip under one lace, then the other, until he could slide his hand between the leather and my leg. His hand was warm as he cupped my calf, gently sliding his fingertips across the back of my knee, then back down my calf.

Cole set his hand on my shoulder. I jumped. "He's better with you than without," the boy whispered into my ear.

"I think I should say 'goodnight,'" Cullen said, giving my leg a squeeze.

I could have sworn I was just talking to someone else. "No, don't be ridiculous. You should walk me up to my quarters."

"I didn't know if you had, perhaps, changed your mind." He set my feet on the floor, standing, then lending me a hand as I got out of my chair.

"I'm just a little sleepy from all the food, and the rubbing."

He looked down. "We can spend the night together another time. You should get some sleep. We have an early morning."

I put my hand on his chest, taking a handful of his vest into my fist, tugging him gently towards me. "I intend on being tired in the morning, for a very good reason, Commander."

His hand shot out with lightning quickness, cupping my neck as he brought his lips down onto mine. He backed me up to the wall, where I hitched a leg up over his hip, hooking my foot around his leg. A moan rumbled up from his chest as he leaned a hand against the wall, pressing me against the cool stone.

I ripped my lips away from his. "Would you like to come up to my room, Commander?"

"Are you sure this is what you want?" he asked, offering me an out.

I grabbed his hand, leading him towards the door that lead out of the Great Hall up to my quarters. Both of us were huffing and puffing after running up all the flights of stairs to my quarters in the tower.

As we entered my quarters, I felt as if a needle had stuck me squarely in my gut. I looked down for the offender. I saw a hint of a golden flash of light as what felt like a thread was pulled through my body.

"Wow! I don't know what I expected, but this is really quite grand," Cullen said.

I watched as he marveled at the sheer size of the room with its balcony behind the bed, above the closets, and the two large balconies outside overlooking Skyhold. The room was awash in golden light. Did he not see it?

"It is, isn't it?" I replied. "I tried insisting that Josephine or Leliana or even Cassandra should take it, but they all declared it mine."

"Of course they did," he replied, removing some of his belts, and his wrapped waistcoat. He stepped out of it, folding it neatly in half lengthwise, and laying it over the back of the loveseat.

The golden light faded. With the feeling of the thread nearly forgotten, and another feeling entirely replacing it, I refocused on the situation at hand.

I bit my lower lip as I caught his eyes with mine. I pulled at the lace of my bodice, untying it, before slipping a finger under the laces of the first grommet, pulling them out. Then, with my other hand, I pulled the laces out of the second grommet. His eyes went wide, like a cat ready to pounce. They met mine. A sly smile spread across my face. My hands stilled.

"You first," I said.

He smiled, untucking the hem of his shirt from his breeches. The corner of the scar on his lip curled into a smirk as he tugged the shirt over his head. Course tawny hairs dotted the broad expanse of his chest. A dark golden trail started below his navel, disappearing into his waistband.

I licked my lips, continuing to unlace my bodice. His eyes watched my fingers like a shadow cat ready to pounce. When the lace was in only the bottom grommet, I tied it to itself so it wouldn't get separated from its garment. He pushed the straps from my shoulders, taking the bodice from me, laying it, too, on the loveseat by the fireplace.

"May I?" he asked, his hands on my hips.

"Please," I answered, not sure what he was even asking. It didn't matter. I'd beg for it.

He pulled the hem of my shirt free from my breeches, whisking it over my head and onto the loveseat in one swift motion. His hands traveled over the edges of my ribs, up my shoulder blades, before his fingers raked down either side of my spine. I melted into his arms, pressing my lips to his chest as I collapsed against him.

Cullen nestled his nose into my hair, breathing in deeply. "I feel like we've done this before," he sighed. "I have wondered what your skin would feel like against mine for so long now."

The tawny hairs of his chest tickled the tip of my nose as I brushed the tip across the broad expanse. I rooted around with my lips looking for his nipple. I found one, flicking my tongue across the tip. He undulated against me as it puckered between my lips.

A shiver ran through him. His grip around me tightened.

"Boots," I said, as he quivered.

"What?" he asked.

I stood, making eye contact. "Take off your boots."

He wanted to lean in to kiss me, but refrained, following orders instead. "Yes, Inquisitor."

He removed his boots, standing them upright behind the loveseat, turning to face me afterward. "Next?" he asked.

I sat on the bed, grasping my thigh in both hands, waggling my half-unlaced boot at him. With a flick of his hand, he had grabbed the heel and tugged the boot off. He grabbed my other foot, placing it flat against his pectoral as he unlaced it to remove the remaining boot. Agonizingly slowly, Cullen unlaced my boot, one grommet at a time, as his fingers loosened the laces all the way down my leg. By the time he was removing the boot, I was practically squirming beneath him ready to pitch myself into an org*sm. I had no idea that watching someone unlace a shoe could be quite so erotic.

He massaged the freed foot as I flexed my toes. "Your feet are so small," he declared running his fingers across my toenails.

When his attention turned back towards my face, I took my lower lip between my teeth, unfastening the button of my breeches, sliding my hands inside my waistband to push then off my hips. Cullen tugged the hem of my pants, whisking them off me. He did not fold them, and place them on the loveseat.

I lay before him wearing only the black Orlesian silk panties I had purchased from the merchant at the gates of Orzammar and, remembered the glass penis in my bedside drawer. I would break that out on a different night.

His eyes raked across my mostly nude form. "You're beautiful."

I smiled, biting my lip again. I needed something else to put in my mouth.

"What would you have me do next, Inquisitor?" he asked, his voice raspy and low.

I could not count the number of times I had pictured him standing shirtless next to my bed, but this moment was far superior to the fantasies. The look of pure desire on his face was not something I could have imagined.

I wasn't sure if I could still form words. I managed, "pants."

With his chest heaving, and sweat glistening on his brow, he unfastened the breeches. He shoved them down his narrow hips, stepping out of them as they pooled at his ankles. He was finished folding things. He stood before me in simple brown cotton smallclothes, tented by his semi-hard erection. I couldn't take my eyes from it. I wanted to swirl my tongue around the tip, and hear his groans as I swallowed his length.

I rose up to my hands and knees, crawling towards him. I slipped a hand over his jutting hip bone, following it up and around, inside the cloth to his bare backside. I grabbed the waistband with my teeth. His eyes flared to life. I flicked the scrap of cloth to the ground.

His still hardening co*ck bounced in my face, tempting me. I took his shaft in my hand, pumping the length several times before placing the tip of my tongue at the base.

I looked up at him, thinking I had heard him mutter my name, strangely under his breath.

He co*cked his head to the side. "I heard that too," he said.

"We're being interrupted! Again?" I shouted, jumping up and striding over to my balcony overlooking the courtyard, wearing only my smallclothes. My hair would cover my breasts if I flipped it over my shoulders, which I did not. Cullen had the modesty to wrap a blanket around his waist before following me.

The Iron Bull, Dorian, and Cole were sprinting towards the Great Hall screaming, "Inquisitor!" And, "Isabeau!" And, something that sounded an awful lot like . . .

"Darkspawn!"

Chapter 3, Part 2: Isabeau's Repose

As I sat at Cullen's bedside, clutching his hand, I attempted to make sense of the muddled details rattling around inside my brain. In the last few days I had experienced an unnatural, inexplicable sequence of time. I had: arrived at Haven after disappearing from Skyhold; f*cked Solas in the Fade; found Cullen who was trapped in the Fade; broken up with Cullen in the Fade; reunited with Cullen in the Fade; pulled Cullen out of the Fade back into Skyhold; and survived a Darkspawn attack on Skyhold.

What was apparent, was that the Fade was heavily playing into how I was experiencing time. What was still heavily obscured was how or why I was jumping through time. I was certain that what I was experiencing was different timelines, different versions of what the Inquisition looked like. I also realized that I had relived this moment over and over: Cullen's hand clasped in mine, waiting for him to awaken. The memories were stacked on top of each other, like nesting dolls. They all existed. They were all me, all us. But, what happened next?

If I had, in fact, been reliving this moment countless times before, why didn't I know what happened next? Maybe Solas knew. He kept so much to himself. But, if anyone knew, Solas knew.

He startled me when he approached moments later. Solas set his hands on Cullen's broken leg, saying something about healing. I nodded.

I wondered if, perhaps, he could read my mind. A smile tugged at the corners of my lips when I realized how in tune I had become with the mysterious elf. I did not understand him. I did not want to trust him. And, I did not know how to fight the overpowering attraction I felt for him, even as I sat here willing Cullen to survive.

When I looked up, Solas held his arm out to me. Dorian had a revulsed look on his face. Solas barked at Dorian. I felt panic well up in my throat.

"Nothing, you look . . . fi-i-i-ne," Dorian lied, poorly.

"I, obviously, do not look 'fine,' Dorian!" I replied, too loudly. My voice echoed around the Great Hall.

Solas gathered me in his arms. Moments later I realized we were in the Rotunda. I needed to see what I looked like. Whatever it was that had horrified Dorian in such a manner, certainly, must be worrisome, though Solas remained steadfastly calm.

I stared back at myself from a mirror near one of his frescoed archways. The skin of my neck was covered in dark blotches, which whittled down to freckles on my jaw and hairline. Some of the dark patches had started to coalesce into large, red blotches at the bottom of my neck. A wave of nausea bubbled up from within. I clutched the countertop to steady myself. My eyes were dilated. My skin was pale, and kind of grey behind the mottling of the corruption.

I felt Solas' unfaltering grip on my shoulder. I turned into his embrace, crumpling against his solid body as he wrapped his arms around me. I could not stave off the tears any longer. I wanted to tell him what I had been through, to tell him that I knew this wasn't the first time we had done this. However, the thoughts fell apart in my throat before my mouth could form the words.

The warmth of Solas' body anchored me to the moment. I tried to concentrate on him. I could feel the softness of the wolf pelt slung over his shoulder on my face. He held me the way Cullen held me. I was safe here.

Dorian's voice crept into my consciousness.

"Perhaps Dorian is right," Solas declared, stroking my forehead. I giggled knowing it was a moment Dorian would cherish.

"I heard that," Dorian's sing-song voice announced, joyously.

"You heard nothing," Solas insisted.

I felt the ancient magic of Solas surround me. I had never felt anything like Solas' magic before. Absolutely, he was the strongest mage I had ever encountered. I feared nothing and no one in his presence, knowing he was my . . . ally? I could not find the right word to describe what Solas was to me.

The unmistakable feeling of the Fade invading my mind took control of all my senses. My fate, my future was out of my control. As I felt myself drift off into the Fade, I felt myself sink into the safety of Solas.

Ancient elven words slipped into my mind, words I didn't know, but somehow had a feeling I should. Solas' magic filled me. I had never felt anything like it before. Well, that's not true. It felt a lot like his grotto in the Fade where we had f*cked against that tree. It felt like Solas. But, he was not there when I opened my eyes.

Green. Everything was green. The chartreuse glow of the Fade filled my vision. I could barely open my eyes. I could sense the demons in the Fade, but knew I was safe from any harm. I needn't worry. I let myself adjust as I remembered what it was like to be in the Fade.

However, when I opened my eyes, I did not remember this. Everything was black, but not from lack of light. I could see my glowing green hand when I looked down at it; I could see myself. Also, I could see my reflection in the black mirrors that surrounded me, corralling me into a moderately sized room. The floor, the ceiling, all four walls— black mirrors. At the mirrors' edges were razor thin lines of blue light, appearing to hold them together like some strange glowing caulk.

Panic welled up in my gut, that feeling of emptiness and great fear. I remember feeling that way moments ago when Solas told me I had the Taint. Solas. He was here. I could feel him in my mind, here in the Fade. Only this was like no Fade I had seen before.

The heartracing panic began to subside. I knew I was safe here. Something about the blue glow of the walls settled me. I knew I could not be harmed; the magic protected me. It felt something like lyrium. Although, it was much stronger than any lyrium potion or even pure lyrium dust that I had ever been near. It had a sort of hum to it.

A shiny black cabinet appeared in front of me, its gleaming countertop beckoned me to perch. With my hands behind me, I hopped up to sit upon the black surface. Its texture suggested it was stone, not glass like the walls. I stared ahead at the reflection of the cabinet below me. Its surface appeared to be be something else entirely, perhaps some sort of metal. I kicked my heels against it, listening to the sound it made.

Definitely metal. But, a very thin metal, mounted on some type of wood perhaps. I needed to open the cabinet. I hopped back down, squatting on the floor. The handle appeared to be something like steel, though I was neither expert in metal nor cabinet handles. Inside were two shelves, each made of translucent black glass. My best guess for what the walls of the cabinet appeared to be was some sort of extremely smooth, grainless wood. Although, it did not actually sound like wood when I knocked on it. There was more of a rattling sound to the strange material of the cabinet walls.

"What in Thedas is that?" I asked to nobody in particular.

Solas' voice replied. "It is not from Thedas. Whatever it happens to be was created by your mind though."

"Solas," I sighed in relief, looking around at my reflections. That was too weird. I looked back into the strange cabinet. "Where are you?"

He laughed a short, quick laugh. "Well, I am am not in there."

I scrunched my nose at him. "What does go in here, then?"

Another laugh. "Do you want me to answer both of those questions?" Solas asked.

I did ask Solas a lot of questions.

"I am here, in your mind," he told me.

"Great. Okay, you're in my head," I nodded.

"I can get out, if you wish. However, I believe this spell will be much more difficult to maintain, and I wa— "

I waved a hand, cutting him off. "Unnecessary. You're welcome to be here. I find it quite comforting, in fact. I suppose I mean, 'it's weird because I've never had someone else in my head before.'"

"Ah, thank you for clarifying," Solas replied. "As for what goes into the cabinet, I suppose whatever you want."

"What I want is some coffee. But, it seems silly to keep coffee in this cabinet down here." I heard the sound of something being set down on the counter. As I stood up, I saw a shiny black kitchen device. A clear glass pitcher sat beneath a black reservoir, full of dark, hot liquid. That rich, sweet, heartwarming aroma filled my nose. "Coffee!" I exclaimed.

I picked up the pitcher by the handle. It was smooth, and the same shiny black material as the reservoir, and similar to the material of the cabinet walls. I looked around for a cup, finding nothing, when a smooth black mug appeared before me. It sat about a hand tall, the handle running the entire length in one smooth arc the perfect size for a hand. I picked it up, looking inside: black, just like the rest of the mug. I turned it over. The matte ring around the bottom outer edge of the mug denoted it to be ceramic. "Ooo, that's fancy!"

I watched the most beautiful coffee I had ever seen purl into the mug. The oil slick, that only freshly ground coffee forms, shimmered on the surface in the glowing blue lights of the room. I filled the cup about two-thirds of the way, then looked around for cream and sugar. A white ceramic cow-shaped pitcher appeared to my left, filled with cream. An opaque white glass sugar bowl appeared to my right. The sides were stippled in tiny raised dots. The lid had a small cut-out for a silver spoon handle to poke through. The sugar inside was the large brown crystals used in Ferelden, as opposed to the fine white powdery crystals used in Orlais. "Why is the sugar brown when everything else is white?" I asked.

Though I could not actually see Solas' face, I knew exactly what expression he was making in this moment. "No, I don't want you to answer that question! I know it's in my head. I should know. Why do I have to keep asking all of these questions aloud? And, why don't you know what a rhetorical question is? Huh?"

"I once told you I would answer all your questions. And, that any question I could not answer I would be honest about. I do not want you to think that I am avoiding any of your questions. I know it is a 'bad habit' of mine."

"I believe I used those exact words," I laughed.

"Yes, you did. This is your mind, Isabeau. I can hear all of your thoughts. If you do not wish for me to hear your thoughts, I will have to do this a different way," he reminded me.

"This. You mean keeping me under this elven spell so my f*cking TAINT doesn't get any worse," I yelled."I have to undergo and survive the Joining or I die. Right? That's what happens next. And, you have me under this spell because I started to lose my f*cking mind when the symptoms started."

"All of that is true," Solas stated, flatly.

I stirred the cream and sugar into my coffee. "I like the brown stuff better. It's the kind we used at the Circle. Mother used the white stuff. It's one of the few things I prefered about the Circle. That's where Papa and the boys were. I used to resent the Circle because I wanted to live at home with the horses and Momma. I don't feel like I appreciated the Circle enough. But, my life there is what made me who I am. I do not regret anything about who I am."

The sweet smell of coffee wafted into my nose. I felt every tense muscle in my neck and shoulders relax. Everything was okay if I had coffee. "So, I'm going to be a Grey Warden after this. That's . . . well, that's unexpected." I gripped the mug in both hands, taking a sip. The first sip of hot, fresh coffee was one of my very favorite activities. "I'm going to be a Grey Warden," I repeated.

"My apologies, but I feel I need to bring up the fact that the survival rate of the Joining is not one hundred percent, Inquisitor," Solas reminded me.

"Oh, I know. But, I'm sure the process of surviving the Joining is pure agony, and fate would not deny me more agony, Solas." I took another sip of the righteous coffee. "I am afraid of neither pain nor loss any longer. I expect to feel pain at every turn. And, everyone dies." I looked into the cup. "This coffee really is righteous."

I hopped back up to sit on the counter again.

"I do not mean to be presumptive, however you do realize you could make yourself a seat, correct?"

"First, you are using your presumptive voice. And second, yes, I do. However, I like sitting on the counter. It has a good view." I swung my feet, realizing I was looking at myself drinking coffee in the mirror. I could hear the smile on Solas' face.

We were both quiet for a while.

"I wish I could see you," I admitted. "Why can't I see you?"

"I am not asleep," Solas answered. "My mind and my body are in the Waking World. They cannot be in the Fade as well."

"So, how can I hear you if you're not actually here in the Fade with me?"

"I am in your mind, Isabeau. It should be painfully unpleasant. You should feel me in here even though you cannot see me."

"I do feel you in here," I said, flailing my arms about using air quotes. "It isn't unpleasant in any way. I suppose the unpleasant part is that it just feels like where you're supposed to be. I don't mind it. I mean, it's weird with you in my head. I can practically hear your thoughts, too. I mean, I can't actually hear your thoughts. But, it's like I don't need to. I just know what you're thinking. I know what look you have on your face. I know what you're going to say next most of the time. Though, to be fair, you do surprise me plenty." I couldn't stop myself from rolling my eyes. It appeared that in my head, I was incapable of keeping my true feelings from my face, which, in all honesty, was very similar to how life was 'out there,' too.

"You think you can read my mind?" Solas asked, a playful drawl in his voice.

"You try to hide what you're feeling. You try not to wear your heart on your sleeve. But, I can see the way the edge of your lip twitches, ever so slightly, as you fight the urge to hide that sly smirk when you just know you're right about something. Or the way your nostrils flare when you fight your attraction to me." I fidgeted with the smooth, warm mug in my hands, biting my lip. "Sometimes I do something just to see if I can make your nostrils flare."

"Inquisitor . . ."

He left the word to hang heavy in the air. For not long ago, I had told him that I knew he only called me that when he was trying not to be attracted to me. As if referring to me by what had recently become 'my title,' would put the 'professional' distance between us we both kept trying to pretend was there.

My heart raced. But, this time, not with anxiety.

"Did you just admit to flirting with me?" Solas asked, his voice deep as he tried to keep it steady. He refused to let me hear his thoughts now.

It was too late. I didn't need to hear them. I knew. I remembered the way he looked at me, that one time, in his Fade grotto. I would never forget it: the inescapable 'want' between us.

I shook my head to clear my thoughts. Cullen was lying, broken in a triage cot, and I was lusting after Solas in the Fade. Maker, take me.

"I want to feel guilty for flirting with you. I should feel guilty for flirting with you, especially now considering the state Cullen is in. However, I just can't bring myself to feel guilt. What I feel is . . .?" I realized I could not quite define what I felt for Solas.

He waited my answer for several long moments, until saying, ". . . lust."

"Lust is only a small part of what I feel for you. Trust. Complete and utter trust. I trust you with my life. And somehow, though I can't believe I'm going to say this outloud, my heart. I trust you with my heart. I don't know how that's possible since I've already given it to Cullen. Maybe I have two. Maybe it has split in half and you have to share it with each other, because apparently none of us are getting a choice. My heart wants what it wants."

"Seeing you happy makes me happy, Isabeau." I could hear the tears threatening to spill over in his voice. "Cullen is a lucky man."

My beating heart stuttered. "Are you saying you don't want the other half?" I asked.

"I am saying that he is deserving of your heart," Solas told me.

"And, that you're not." Of course not. Solas didn't know how to be loved. I knew the question in his heart. How could anyone possibly love him if they already had someone else to love? "Well, you don't get to determine how I feel."

"You are right. I do not," he said.

"It's not something you can return, Solas."

I sipped my coffee trying not to think about Solas hearing all of my thoughts, instead thinking about how the place seemed to respond to me. We were, in fact, in my mind after all. Why wasn't it more interesting?

As I strolled around the island of cabinets, I trailed the fingertips of one hand along the smooth, glittering black countertop, noticing there were no smudges left behind.

"Isabeau . . . ," a mysterious voice whispered from nowhere, yet everywhere.

I froze, letting my eyes travel around the room looking for anything out of place.

"Isabeau, you need me," it said.

"Well, I'm pretty sure this isn't you, Solas. So . . . ?"

"No, it is not I," Solas answered. His voice was so clear it was as if he were standing next to me.

"Who is it?" I asked.

"We are the salvation of your people," it answered.

I met my own eyes in the reflection of the black mirrored wall. "I have a feeling I shouldn't be conversing with it," I said to Solas.

"You have always had good instincts," Solas replied.

"So many will die. You will never save them in time," the voice continued.

I held my own gaze. "Who is it?" I asked Solas. "And, why do they sound so familiar. Yet, I cannot place their face." I became transfixed upon my own face, my nose and brows scrunched up in confusion. The voice came from within me.

"You have met before," Solas answered.

A hole opened in the pit of my stomach, swallowing any other piqued curiosity. My heart raced. My hands became clammy. I could feel my wet hair against my scalp, and my shirt cling to my armpits. "Solas?"

"I promise you, I will not let anything happen to you. Though, you do not need me. You can do this yourself," Solas replied.

"Go away," I shouted. "I will not deal with you, Demon!"

A smooth black door appeared in front of me, slamming shut. Its edges glowed with that brilliant, lyrium colored light. There was no knob on this brand new door, just a flat black rectangle where a knob should have been.

In my mind, I could see the corners of Solas' tight mouth curl into a smile he would try to conceal. I shook my head in an attempt to try not to think about his mouth. "How long do I have to stay in here, Solas? I think I'm going a little mad already."

"A while," he replied. "Do not worry. I will not leave you alone. Although, Dorian will be replacing me shortly, if you do not mind."

"Ah, a changing of the guard. Of course I don't mind Dorian's company. But, why are you going?"

"It has been a very long day. I need to recharge, and to discover what has transpired," Solas informed me.

"A long day? I feel like it's been maybe an hour. Oh, right. The Fade. There's no time in the Fade." Another reason I disliked this place.

"Will you be coming back?" I asked. "Can you let me know how Cullen is doing, please?"

"Yes, I will return . . ." He let the sentiment hang pregnant in the air for a long moment. "I will always return for you."

I let the depth of his affection for me into any crack that had been letting doubt seep in. So far, he had only proved his words true. At every turn, Solas strengthened my confidence in making it out of this alive on the other side.

"Cullen is here, you know," Dorian told me.

"He is?"

"Yes, he's sitting right next to me, holding your hand. He's very worried about you."

I looked down at my hands, my face and mood sinking in worry. "I can't feel it."

"Of course not. This repose spell you're under separates your mental self from your physical self. Solas explained it all to me in agonizing detail before he would allow me to cast it."

"Why?" I asked.

"To stop the corruption from spreading. Since your body is being held in some sort of stasis, the Taint cannot continue to invade. Solas will not let it take you. Although I have no idea what he's doing, he seems to know. That has become good enough for me," Dorian told her.

"He does seem quite certain," I replied.

"In all honesty, Beau-Beau, you're the reason I have decided to trust him. I see the way the two of you dance every time you're near each other. You constantly gravitate towards one another, both of you fighting against it. When I watch you work together, I have no doubts that we can defeat anything standing in our path."

"There's this little part of me that cautions me against trusting him, because I know he tries so hard to hide the truth at all times. But, I've seen him learn to trust me. Times when he would bite his tongue, he now takes a deep breath and lets me in, reluctantly, perhaps even inadvertently drawing me closer."

"I don't think anything Solas does is 'inadvertent'," Dorian warned.

I shook my head. "No, neither do I. You're right."

"Whether you like it or not, he has become your partner. You're stronger with his guidance. You don't need Justice."

"Justice?" I asked.

"Justice, the spirit that is speaking to you," Dorian answered.

"How do you know about that?" I asked.

"Honestly, I don't know how to answer that," Dorian replied. "Does any of this feel familiar to you, Isabeau?"

I nodded, but didn't know if Dorian could see me. "Yes," I answered him. "Yes it does. I think it's the reason I've realized how much trust I place in Solas. I can sense his motives now, almost as if he has let me in just enough to be able to guess what he's going to do next. He's full of surprises still, to be sure. But, I've come to understand him." I looked at myself in the mirror again. "And, I think that's why these feelings are . . . trying to run away with me. To realize I know someone who has tried to hide himself from me at every turn . . . Well, it's just become a very intimate relationship right in front of my nose."

Dorian chuckled. "Solas likes people to think he's quiet. That way, they talk about all kinds of things in front of him. He just disappears into the background of Skyhold, like he's a part of this place. However, I find when I'm with him, I can't get him to shut up."

I smiled, nodding in agreement. Solas, very much, felt a part of Skyhold.

"You love him," Dorian stated.

I continued nodding. "Yep."

"More than Cullen?" Dorian asked with bated breath.

"No," I answered without hesitation, taking a deep, sharp inhale. "Although, maybe the same," I exhaled.

"Have you told either of them about it?" Dorian pried.

"No? Or yes, I guess I have kind of mentioned it to both of them in some way. Honestly, though, I haven't given it much thought. Every time I think about it, I just think about what Cullen will say. It will be over between us, and that isn't what I want." I wrung my hands in front of me. "I don't know what to do, Dorian. I don't want to lose either of them, but I can't go on like this. My heart hurts."

"It is a predicament I do not envy. Well, no. That's not true. I envy it. Cullen is a perfect specimen of a man. If you do not want him, I will trade Bull," Dorian joked in an attempt to lighten the mood.

It worked. "You're a good friend, Dorian."

"I am an excellent friend," Dorian corrected.

"I don't know if I'm Bull's type," I said.

"Everyone is the Iron Bull's type," Dorian replied.

"That's not true," I told him.

"No, it isn't," Dorian agreed.

I could see the curls at the ends of his carefully coiffed moustachio rise, as his eyes twinkled, the way they did only when he thought about the Iron Bull.

Some time later, after Dorian had been silent for awhile, I heard a knock at the door. "Uh, who's there?" I asked.

"Marnie," Marnie, I presume, answered.

"Marnie who?"

"Marnie Evanwood, she answered.

"That was unhelpful. It has occured to me that I do not, in fact, know Marnie's surame."

"Well, it's Evanwood," Marnie possibly Evanwood answered.

"Come in, I guess," I replied.

The tall, buxom redhead walked through the door. "Where are we?" she asked.

"The Fade."

"This doesn't look like any part of the Fade I've ever seen," Marnie stated.

"Me neither. What are you doing here?"

"I got the Taint," she told me.

"Sucks, doesn't it?"

"Yeah, it really does."

"How are you, Marnie," Solas interrupted.

She looked around for the disembodied voice. "Fine?"

"Inquisitor, have you heard from the spirit again?" Solas asked.

"No, I haven't," I told him. "It appears I have attracted some sort of spirit," I told Marnie. "They were calling to me earlier, when Solas was here before."

"A spirit? Great. Just great. Solas, I thought you brought me here to help keep me away from spirits?" Marnie shrieked.

"You are both safe here. I assure you. Now, I must concentrate. The spell is much different with two people. Isabeau . . ."

"Yeah?"

He waited. Too long. It made me uneasy. "Let me know if you need anything."

"I will. Thanks, Solas."

Marnie and I chatted idly to pass the time. We compared our time in the Circle: our favorite and least favorite enchanters, what daily life was like, our Harrowings. After a while, we quieted down again. I sat on the countertop, trying not to kick my feet against the rattling cabinet underneath me. Marnie wandered around the room in slow circles, studying the lights and the mirrored walls.

"Now, there are two," the spirit called once again.

"Oh, no," Marnie inhaled sharply.

My head snapped in her direction. "What?"

"I know that voice," she told me, her eyes wide.

"How do you know that voice?" I asked her.

Marnie twiddled her fingers, scrunching up her face. "I . . . um, well I was involved with someone who may have been kinda . . . possessed by that spirit of Justice before."

My mouth gaped open. "Wow. Really? How did that go?"

"Fine, I guess. There's more, though," she told me, reluctant to share more, knowing she had no choice.

I leaned my forearms against the cool black countertop, holding my smooth black coffee mug between both hands in an attempt to steady them, waiting for her to go on.

"He happens to be in Skyhold right now. He arrived with the Grey Wardens."

"Is he still possessed by this spirit?" I asked.

"Yeah, he is. There's still more," she said wringing her hands as if they were a wet dishtowel.

"Uh huh," I said, my jaw tight.

"He's the mage who blew up Kirkwall's Chantry."

So many emotions welled up within me, it was if the Chantry was exploding all over again. Anger that that person had entered my home, and fear that he would treat Skyhold in a similar fashion.

"Isabeau, you know you want to. We know you want to," the voice said.

Marnie's eyes went wide as she shook her head side-to-side.

"How do you presume to know what I know?" I asked.

"How many times have we danced this dance before?" they asked.

It was in that moment I felt a sort of door in my mind open. I felt the rush of what the power of Justice-turned-Vengeance would provide. With the Abomination of Isabeau, I would run rampant over Corypheus and his army of Darkspawn.

"He has an entire army of Darkspawn now?" I shrieked.

Marnie looked at me sideways. "It's not worth it."

"Get the f*ck out, you f*cking demon," I spat. "You are not welcome here."

The door Marnie had come through, which was very much closed a moment ago, slammed shut with such force the glass coffee decanter rattled in its shiny black housing.

I felt Solas' arms surround me from behind as he rested his chin on top of my head, though he wasn't there to actually do so. "I am so proud of you," he said softly.

"Do you mind if I have some of that coffee?" Marnie asked, pointing to the coffee pot.

"Sure, cups are—" I was interrupted when another smooth black mug identical to mine appeared on the shimmering black countertop next to the coffee.

Marnie's eyes darted back and forth nervously. "Thanks."

"I have a feeling that will keep them out for good," Solas practically purred against my neck. I could almost feel his lips tickling the fine hairs on my ear.

"So . . . Solas, can you hear my thoughts, then?" Marnie asked.

"No, I am occupying Isabeau's mind, not yours. Your thoughts are safe," Solas assured her.

"I'd certainly rather not have you in my head. I'm okay with that." Marnie poured her coffee, adding cream and sugar. "Well, that's cute," she said holding up the cow shaped pitcher of cream.

"Thanks. I think I made it," I told her.

Marnie nodded appreciatively at the cow. "So, this is, like, your Fade place?"

"Uh, I mean, it is now. But, I've never seen it before," I told her.

"You had to have seen it before somewhere to create it here, in the Fade," Solas asserted.

"Yeah, you said that before. See, I was listening." I refrained from sticking out my tongue.

Solas often remarked that I didn't listen to him. If he didn't talk so much I would listen more, I had told him. 'Noted,' he had replied.

I hopped up to sit on the counter, holding my head in my hands. "Solas, can you give me a minute, please?"

"Of course," he answered.

In the next moment I felt a door close, knowing his presence was no longer in the room.

"Are you all right?" Marnie asked.

"No, not exactly," I answered running my fingers through my hair. "He makes me crazy."

"That's evident," Marnie quipped. "You two seem to . . . spend a lot of time together."

Although, I had never spent any time one-on-one with Marnie before, I found myself at ease with her unassuming demeanor. "Every moment that I am not with Cullen, I seek out Solas." I admitted to her. "I guess I spend more time with Solas than with Cullen most days. I don't know what that means anymore."

"And, you and Cullen have been in a relationship for some time now?" she asked.

"Yes, since the Inquisition arrived at Skyhold, I suppose." I ran my hand across my forehead, trying to rub out the confusion. "Sometimes I feel like I should be more worried about this Corypheus sh*t, or this Darkspawn sh*t, or this having the Taint sh*t! But, all I can think about is how much my heart hurts."

"I don't envy you," Marnie said. "I know how bad a heart can hurt. And, how much that takes out of you. Sometimes, all the choices seem like the wrong answers. Just keep looking until you find the right one."

I looked at her with what counted as a smile. "I will try that. Thank you."

Chapter 3, Part 3: - Meeting the Warden Commander

"Excuse me, ladies," Solas' disembodied voice interrupted.

I grabbed my chest in semi-faux surprise. "Maker, Solas! You scared me. I thought I told you to get out of my head!"

"My apologies. I am only here a moment to see if you would mind being visited by the Warden Commander," Solas asked.

His voice sounded as apologetic as I had ever heard. Although I could not see him, I knew the look on his face. I could see the sadness in his eyes that he had displeased me. Yet that smirk quickly returned to the corner of his lips as he realized I was never regretful at hearing his voice. In that moment, I realized Solas knew exactly how I felt about him. I had practically been wearing it on my sleeve.

I couldn't stop myself from flirting with Solas. I couldn't stop my laugh from coming out a giggle, nor my desire to position myself as close to him as possible. All I had managed to do was keep my clothes on and keep myself from straddling him whenever I saw him sitting down. I was throwing myself at him left and right, and he had kept his hands to himself, well mostly anyhow. He had such deep respect for Cullen, and for myself, that he wouldn't make that mistake again.

I hadn't been able to stop myself from thinking about him that way ever since I gave myself to him in the Fade. Every move he made I found seductive. I couldn't stop staring at his hands, or watching him walk across a room. I kept wondering if he had used some sort of spell on me. But, I knew he hadn't. Furthermore, I knew that if I asked him, he would tell me the truth.

It almost seemed as if we had nothing to hide from each other any longer. I knew that wasn't exactly true. However, there was something about the way he looked at me, even when I couldn't see him like now, that I could trust. I knew the face he wore, the one you couldn't trust. I knew the difference between them. I could see it in the look of his eye, the set of his jaw, the tautness of his cheeks. Those angled cheekbones stood out when he was hiding something.

I rubbed my fingertips across my forehead, frustrated that I missed him already.

"Yes, please. I'm going crazy in here, Solas!" I tried to keep my voice in check.

"To be fair, Inquisitor . . . you were going crazy before you got in here," he teased, his voice buttery soft. "I must add," he continued, "Cullen has expressed some concern that you are meeting Trio. He told me about their former relationship at Kinloch."

I nodded. "Of course he is. That makes sense. Well, I'm not concerned. He has only ever had positive things to say about her. I respect her as a woman and as someone who is about to be in her debt. He has nothing to worry about."

"I will relay that information to him," Solas promised.

"Thank you . . . and Solas, tell him . . ." I covered my face with my hands, choking back a sob. "Tell him I love him." I couldn't resolve my heart between Cullen and Solas any longer. When I got out of the Fade, probably sometime after my Joining, which I had gathered would occur immediately after Solas let me out of here, I would have to tell Cullen about my feelings for Solas.

This was all going to come crashing down around me. My whole world was about to come crashing down around me, because what was coming next came with no guarantee of my survival.

I almost didn't care if I lived through my Joining. Death would be easier than breaking Cullen's heart . . . again. Squaring off against Corypheus would be easier than breaking Cullen's heart again.

"Inquisitor Trevelyan?" I heard a soft-spoken voice say, as she knocked on the door.

"Come in," I told her.

When the door opened, a thin woman slightly taller than Marnie entered. Her white hair was pinned on top of her head in a bun so tight it might have lifted the corners of her eyes. Streams of blue light seemed to swirl beneath her skin. Glitter danced on her cheeks. She wore the familiar blue and silver Grey Warden uniform. Her robes were topped with a griffon breastplate, wide armored belt, and platemail greaves on her shins. She extended a hand, gripping my wrist in her fingers.

"Trieste Amell-Theirin, Warden Commander of Ferelden. Call me Trio. It is my pleasure to meet you," she said with a genuine smile.

"Isabeau Trevelyan," I replied.

"Cullen hasn't stopped talking about you since we arrived. He's very worried. I see how much you mean to him." Trio hugged me. "I'm glad he has someone. I'm sure you know he meant a great deal to me many years ago. I'm going to get you back to him. I promise."

Our arms fell back to our sides. "But, you can't promise that, can you?" I asked.

A half smile returned to one corner of her mouth. "No, I can't. Not really. However, I hear you're the most powerful mage in the keep. I have a feeling you'll be no match for the Joining, Inquisitor," Trio replied.

I thought about telling her that I was most decidedly not the most powerful mage in Skyhold, but decided it was unimportant. Instead, I mentioned, "Leliana has said the success rate is about twenty five percent."

"She's right. It is. For normal people. For a mage like you or I, it's much closer to ninety percent. I have only been surprised by a loss one time in ten years. The Architect and I have done quite a bit of research and experimentation on the formula." Trio's face grew excited as she talked about Grey Warden things in her Grey Warden voice.

It almost made me excited, until I remembered that if I survived the Joining, I had to tell Cullen about my feelings for Solas.

"Are you all right?" Trio asked, laying a hand on my arm.

"I'm just nervous," I answered, scratching my forehead.

Trio took my hand. "I know it itches. That will go away soon. Isabeau, there's nothing to be nervous about. All you have to do is believe in yourself. Believe that you are strong enough to survive a little, ol' drop of Archdemon blood. Believe that you are meant to be a Grey Warden. Believe that the Joining is no match for you, and you will come out of this a Grey Warden."

From the look on her face, there was no doubt in my mind that she believed it. That was enough for me. I nodded. "Who told you I was the most powerful mage in Skyhold?" Everyone in the Inquisition knew Solas was the most powerful mage in Skyhold.

"Solas," she answered.

I closed my eyes, bowing my head. Knowing that Solas believed in me was all I needed. I had known Solas was the most powerful mage in Skyhold since we arrived. What he saw in me, I did not understand. Tears stung my eyes. "I'm just a Circle mage," I told her, meeting her piercing sky blue eyes.

Those eyes twinkled. "Me too," she said. Trio turned to Marnie. "I hear you are also a Circle mage, and from Kinloch. But, I think I was a year ahead of you." Trio reached out a hand towards Marnie. "Trio," she said.

"Marnie Evanwood. Yeah, I think you were a year older." Marnie's blue eyes were as wide as I had ever seen them. "I can't believe I'm talking to the Hero of Ferelden. Sorry."

"It's all right," Trio smiled. "I'm used to it. I hear you're a fast learner, and a strong student, Marnie. I need you to believe that you're strong enough to survive the Joining. I need you to believe that you are going to be a Grey Warden." Trio set her hand over Marnie's heart. "I need you to believe in here, and you will see it happen. I promise."

Marnie smiled a smile she was surprised she didn't have to force. "If the Hero of Ferelden tells me I can do it, I can certainly believe it."

"Let's get this on with, then. Shall we?" Trio walked to the door, stopping to turn back to us. "I am proud to add two such talented mages to our ranks. Welcome to the Joining, ladies."

After Trio had disappeared, Solas spoke again. "Are you ready, Marnie?"

I took Marnie by the shoulders. "I've seen you learn at least two new spells since you got to Skyhold. I know you can do this. We're going to be Grey Wardens together, Marn."

"Thanks, Isabeau. With the Inquisitor and the Hero of Ferelden on my side, I'm pretty sure I got this." Marnie touched my arm. "It's all going to work out."

Then, she was gone. The quiet saddened me, stretching on into my newfound loneliness.

Solas' welcome voice broke the silence. "Marnie's parents are here. She's meeting with them before her Joining. It should just be a few moments before I wake you. Is there anything, anything at all I can do for you?"

Part of me didn't want to say it outloud, but Solas was in my head and I would not hide from him any longer. "When I wake up, I just need you to hold me for a minute before this goes down."

I heard him catch the hitch in his voice. "Of course, Inquisitor."

Many long moments later, I felt that familiar nudge in my mind as Solas spoke again. "Marnie's Joining was successful. Are you ready?"

"Solas, I . . ." I don't know what I wanted to say. There was so much, I didn't know where to start. "I am."

"So am I," he said.

As the thick fog cleared from my mind, I coughed myself awake. I felt Solas' steady, firm hands on me, helping me sit up. I looked at him. My chin quivered.

Solas wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into his warmth. I couldn't stop the tears. I cried, nestling my face into the fur he wore over his shoulder. He enveloped me, whispering, his lips pressed against my hair. "Let it out, Vherlin."

I felt Cullen's large, warm hand on my back. It had an unfamiliar shakiness to it. I sniffled.

"Are you all right, Beau-Beau?" Cullen asked.

I nodded, gathering my emotions, unable to answer just yet.

"It's a very heavy spell," Solas told him. "The transition is jarring."

"Beau-Beau?" I heard my mother's voice, agreeing with the 'jarring' statement.

I felt a small, cold hand on my knee. I looked at my mother crouching before me. My mother's hands were always cold. She was smaller and older than I remembered. "Momma?"

Lady Elsbeth Trevelyan nodded. My sister Elsbie stood behind her. I wiped at my eyes, throwing my arms around my mother's neck. She sat on the cot next to me, hugging me in return.

"Oh, Isabeau," she said, smoothing my hair away from my face. "Leader of the Inquisition and a Grey Warden? How could I be any more proud of you?"

"I could get married and come home to be bann," I answered.

"Yes, that would do it," she said. "However, your post here is too important for that. We'll sort out the banndom one day down the road. No one seems too concerned about that at the moment. Besides, you or Elsbie could still give me grandbabies one day, though I know better than to hold my breath."

I laughed, sniffling. She handed me a handkerchief. "I guess this is where I become a Grey Warden," I said, balling up the lacey fabric in my hand.

My eyes landed on Trio standing next to Solas' desk. A large silver chalice sat next to a couple of phials and a mortar and pestle. She looked just as she had looked in the Fade: both regal and affable. Perhaps it was the white hair that helped give her youthful face a grandmotherly, and approachable look. Thanks to Marnie's conversation with her earlier, I knew Trio and I were the same age.

"Are you ready?" the Warden Commander asked me.

"Yes," I answered, meeting her eyes.

Realizing my legs were draped over Solas' lap, I pulled them back, standing as he held my hand. My mother stood to my left, holding my other hand. I quickly found Cullen standing in front of me, his hands reaching for me. I draped my arms around his waist as he enveloped me in his embrace. He crushed me to his chest, delicately cradling the back of my head. I felt the quiver of his jaw as he pressed his lips to my temple.

"I have never been so worried that you were trying to leave me," he whispered.

I clutched at the thick wool of his coat. "Never," I told him.

"One thing at a time," I told myself.

I released Cullen from my embrace, looking at Trio over his shoulder. A decade ago he had lost his virginity to this magnificent woman who was going to usher me into a new chapter of life. What a tangled web of emotions this room now bore.

I stepped up to the desk. The Hero of Ferelden removed a phial from around her neck, dripping a single drop of the thick, black liquid into the oversized silver chalice. Trio held up the chalice. "The blood of the Archdemon Urthemiel, slain by my own hand, annoints the Joining chalice that will bring you into the order of the Grey Wardens. Isabeau Trevelyan, are you ready to undergo the Joining?"

I nodded. "Yes," I croaked.

Trio looked around the room. "Join us, brothers and sisters. Join us in the shadows where we stand vigilant. Join us as we carry the duty that can not be forsworn. And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten. And that one day we shall join you."

I took the chalice from her. My lips began to tingle the moment they touched the silver. As I inhaled, my vision began to swim. I wiggled my toes rooting myself to the floor. When the foul liquid rushed into my mouth I thought, "it's no worse than that Qunari sh*t Bull made me drink." Immediately, I knew I was wrong. My throat felt as if it had swollen shut. My eyes felt glued together. Flames ripped up my esophagus. I was consumed. I saw a massive network of Darkspawn. They spanned beneath Thedas throughout the former reign of the dwarves in the Deep Roads. Bravely, they walked aboveground now, too. Seeking Corypheus, who sought me.

An image of a monstrous dragon, not-quiet-dead-yet-not-quite-alive filled my vision. It's breath smelled of corpses. Black bile dripped from its slavering maw. Its eyes flashed blue as Trio attacked it. I felt their weakness. Being aboveground was unnatural for them. Even with all their physical strength and their army, they still were no match for a powerful mage. They were beings who were now so warped from their true form that they knew they had no hope for defeating Thedas, unless they had help.

Corypheus wanted to be the salvation of the Archdemons, for two more still slept in the deepest of the Deep Roads. Now, they had a powerful mage, too.

The next instant, Trio stood before me, taking the cup from my hands. "Welcome to the Grey Wardens, Inquisitor Isabeau."

I looked at her in disbelief. It certainly didn't feel like I had survived my Joining. I rubbed my forehead as the headache I had been ignoring intensified. A stabbing pain shot through my right eye, then my left. Everything went white. Then, thin lines of rainbow light pulsated behind my eyelids.

I was brought back to consciousness inside the rotunda when I heard Cullen ask, "Isabeau, are you all right?" I noticed he was holding hands with Solas, who appeared to be holding Cullen back. Their grips on each other released. Solas smiled as Cullen's hand slid from his. Cullen was at my side, ushering me to a small sofa.

Solas knelt in front of me, examining my pupils with two fingers placed on the side of my neck. He looked back at Trio. "May I administer some healing?"

Trio nodded. "Of course. Whatever she needs. The hard part is over." Trio looked between myself and Marnie who sat on another sofa a few feet to my right. "There may be a lingering headache, it may be severe for a few days. I recommend a dark, quiet room, and lots of liquids. Make sure to eat, even if you're not feeling hungry. It will help the headache and the nausea. There will likely be disturbing visions. We will stay for several days to help you cope with the adjustment period. For today, you should both retire. Take it easy, extra easy."

Trio turned to the desk gathering her things.

Cullen put his arm around my shoulders. "I had some amenities added to my quarters since yours were destroyed in the battle. Well, Josie had them added, in all honesty. "

"Thank you. And, I will be sure to thank Josie. That was thoughtful," I said trying to bury the sadness that had crept in when I realized I would soon be alone with Cullen. I could think of nothing else except that I had to tell him of my feelings for Solas. I started to have trouble breathing. Ragged gasps rushed in and out of my lungs. My vision became blurry again.

I felt warmth begin to spread through me, emanating from Solas' hands on my knees. "Shhhh," he softly calmed me.

My breathing slowed. My eyes drifted closed. I grew increasingly sleepy. I felt Solas' lithe hands catch my shoulders as I collapsed towards him. Then, I felt Cullen's warm, strong arms scoop me up.

"Take her to bed," Solas instructed. "She will feel better in the morning. Cullen . . ." I felt Cullen turn back to Solas. "If you need anything from me, you know where I will be. I am at your beck and call."

"Thank you, for everything Solas. She wouldn't have made it through the past few days without you. I won't soon forget that," Cullen said hoisting me higher up into his grasp.

I felt my mother's hand on my head. "Get some sleep, my darling daughter. I will see you tomorrow." She laid a kiss on my cheek.

I felt Elsbie's hand take mine, giving it a squeeze. "Feel better, sister."

"Thanks, Els. Thanks, Momma."

Chapter 17: The Vengeance Within

Chapter Text

Inquisitor Isabeau's Tale

Part II: Fading Through Time

Chapter 4: the Vengeance Within

When I woke up the next morning, the light of dawn had started to brighten the Frostbacks. Cullen was nestled behind me, his arm laying down my side, his hand resting on my thigh. I wiggled back into his warmth. He sighed against my neck.

I had wanted to talk to him last night, to tell him everything I had been wanting to tell him. But, I was too tired, my mind too jumbled to manage anything of substance. I didn't want to wake him with it either. That was cruel. Hopelessly, I thought how there would never be a good time to tell the man I loved that I also had feelings for another. There would never be a good time to break his heart.

While I didn't want anything to change between Cullen and I, I couldn't get my mind off of Solas.

I turned in his arms to face him, pressing a kiss to his mouth. "Cullen, I need you to wake up. I'm sorry, but there are some things I need to tell you."

He returned my kiss, then slowly blinked into morning. "You can tell me anything," he replied.

"I know. That's why I have to tell you this." I sat up. The covers pooled around my waist. I pulled the sheet up, tucking it under my armpits.

That's when I heard the voice of Justice again. "It is time, Inquisitor," Justice called to me. I could feel their approach.

I heard the voices of three women outside the door.

"I don't know what they're doing," Marnie yelled in exasperation.

Cullen jumped out of bed pulling on his pants. I tossed a chemise over my head, blindly walking towards the newly erected spiral stairway. I heard the locked north door to Cullen's office open. By the time I had pulled my head out of my shirt to stand next to Cullen at the top of the steps, I saw a most unexpected scene.

A nearly seven foot tall man of blue light stood in front of Marnie, and two of the new elven scouts, Issera and Elliara. Solas stood behind them in the doorway with a pathetic, apologetic look on his face.

I felt dazed and confused. Cullen's voice echoed as if we were in a cavern, drowned out by a waterfall. I could hear the sloshing of water against stone. My skin was on fire. I couldn't move. Panic welled up inside of me that time was starting over again. I felt nauseous. Nothing about this was right.

I wanted to scream for help, but couldn't find my voice. I was trapped. But, where? Inside of my own body? Inside of some unknown cave?

"Inquisitor… " said a soothing, far off voice.

Was the voice familiar? I thought, for a moment, I knew the voice. Was it my father? One of my brothers? I trusted this voice. I welcomed this voice.

"Inquisitor," they said again.

I wanted to answer them. I wanted to find answers to all of these seemingly unanswerable questions. I wanted to find my feet.

Finally, a light. A familiar green light beckoned me. I went towards it, trying to pull it into myself. Everything was green, both within and without. The Fade was eerily comforting. I could sense nothing else except for green. There was no glimmer or ripple of the Veil. Just all consuming green. Until the blue arrived.

The green became blue. No, the green was dominated by blue. There was no consent. There was no choice. The green didn't let in the blue, or meld with blue. The blue was. Blue knew and saw and took.

I heard the voice again. "Inquisitor… it is time for Thedas to receive Justice. What will you do for them?"

"To give them justice?" I asked the disembodied voice.

"To bring Justice into the world," they answered.

"I will end Corypheus once and for all. I will see that another of his ilk can never enter the Waking World again. I will kill him and lock the demons in the Fade. I will stop the spread of red lyrium. I will make sure that the Circles know peace and freedom. No mage will suffer again for simply existing. Justice lifts the fear of magic. Justice is found within me," I replied, though I wasn't sure why.

None of that sounded like what I believed. I knew the answer to be so much more complicated than what people wanted the answer to be. That's why we hadn't found it yet. That's why we couldn't just reset the rules governing the Circle, and the Order, and the Chantry. We had to search. We had to discover trial and error solutions. We had to expand our reach beyond Ferelden, beyond the Orlesian nobles, and the letters to nobility throughout Thedas.

"You can do that with my help. We will do it together," they told me.

"Who are you?" I asked, the answer already on my lips. "Justice."

"You are so much stronger than my last host. You will be glorified, perhaps even deified. You should be remembered. The Inquisitor. The Lightning Cat. You are the star of the show. Not I. I will not be remembered. They will not sing my name around the bonfires of celebration. They will not paint murals, fashion mosaics, paint reverential frescoes, wear my colors. It is you they will remember. Let us make memories together, Inquisitor. It is time." Justice's voice echoed as Cullen's had before the blue.

What color had there been before blue? Why couldn't I see it, remember it? Why didn't I know where I was, or what I had been doing before this?

I was not helpless anymore. I did not struggle to make decisions any longer. I knew what was right. I knew what must be done. I knew I could win the war. I knew I would end fear.

I would not let the weakness take over again. Incompetence was no longer a part of me. I now had certainty. I had never felt anything like this before. I had never felt all consumingly powerful.

I did not question it. I embraced it. Corypheus would beg me for mercy that he would be denied. There was no mercy in justice.

Blue began to subside. Cullen's voice fought through. "She couldn't have chosen this. Not on her own. She would never…"

Then, Solas told him, "But, she did. She was desperate and scared. The Taint, the Joining, they changed her."

I awoke on the floor of Cullen's bedchamber. Cullen knelt at my side, Solas at my head. I felt their hands on me. I felt their warmth and their breath. Worry subsided. I was safe in their arms.

As I regained consciousness, I reached for them. I felt Cullen's warm hand in mine, felt the callouses from the swords and shields he wielded. I felt the nervous sweat of his palm, saw the sheen on his chest peeking through the 'V' of his collar.

Solas' hands cupped my temples as he poured healing magic into me. His hands were cool and dry. His fingertips hummed against my skin. "Isabeau, how do you feel?"

I didn't know how to answer that question. How did I feel? "Better," I answered.

Everything around me seemed so much clearer than before. I could see the nails of the patch in Cullen's roof. I could count them: sixty-six. I could feel the knothole in the board beneath my right hip. I could see the tears Cullen had wiped away that had streamed down his cheeks moments ago. I could feel his disappointment at what I had done.

"Beau-Beau," Cullen said, using the diminutive my mother, and Dorian often used. "Are you sure this is what you want? Are you sure this is the right course of action after all you've been through? It isn't too late to change your mind. Solas and I will find a way to…"

What? They would find a way to what? Remove the spirit I had accepted as my partner? Cullen had been my partner all this time. But, I could not defeat Corypheus and close the breach. The demons continued to amass large numbers, and destroy entire villages. The chartreuse miasma in the sky continued to swirl above, threateningly. The Fade continued to call to me.

I met Cullen's eyes. "I am sure. It is the only way." There was a part of me deep inside, the part of me they called 'Beau-Beau,' that knew it wasn't true. But, that part of me was no longer necessary. She didn't matter. It was almost as if she never existed.

I shut the door to Beau-Beau, putting her away indefinitely.

I am Justice. It is the only way. The way was shut. Now, the path I must take is clear, stretching before me, with power I have never before even dreamed possible. I know why Solas spent so much time in the Fade. I know why he befriended spirits, and why he was so inconsolable when he killed those mages in the Exalted Plains.

I am Justice. I am unstoppable. I am the voice of every mage extinguished under the bootheel of a Templar. I am every child whose life has been ended too soon at the hands of fear or anger. I am the Hawke family who Corypheus used to try to gain access to the Black City. I am the Maker who will never allow another to tarnish my crumbling walls.

I am Justice. I feel the fury rise within me, suppressing the bile that has been in my throat. I know the cost. I know what I must do. Justice is not enough. It has never been enough. Justice is strong, but balanced. There is weakness in understanding the plight of the suffering. It hides behind righteousness.

No, Justice is not enough. Justice wants to be Vengeance. Justice craves the peace in not caring about who is injured or how. Vengeance wants to be released, has been pent up for too long. Vengeance is the racehorse who cannot be contained longing to burst forth from the stable in which it lives. Vengeance is the voice that has not been heard because bureaucrats fail to meet the needs of society while they volley for power. Vengeance is every person who has had a loved one taken from their grasp, and lost everything in life through a single death. Vengeance is the child whose molester is never caught, the survivor of every rapist who walks free, the family who does not know how to cope with the loss, the lame who cannot keep up through no fault of their own.

I am Vengeance. I am the Inquisitor. I am here to bring answers to those who question, and punishment to those who deserve it. I will not ask for permission, nor wait for forgiveness. The time to feel is over.

I am hungry. My mouth is dry. My throat is parched. My skin feels as if it might flake off entirely. I must find a drop to drink. Blood will soothe the ills. I will crawl no longer. Now, Vengeance flies on the wings of a dark angel who has the bloodthirst that no blood mage has ever sated before. I am no blood mage.

I am Vengeance. This Inquisition will be remembered for bringing peace, for defining the rights of mages from here forward, for bringing chaos to order. Our hard work will finally pay off. There will be no more uncertainty. There will be no more Inquisitions. Vengeance will settle this. Maybe then, Vengeance can rest, for they cannot stay. That is the deal Justice made.

Chapter 18: We're Not in Thedas Anymore

Chapter Text

Chapter 5: We're Not in Thedas Anymore

Isabeau

When I woke up the next morning, the light of dawn had started to brighten the Frostbacks. Cullen was nestled behind me, his arm laying down my side, his hand resting on my thigh. I wiggled back into his warmth. He sighed against my neck.

I had wanted to talk to him last night, to tell him everything I had been wanting to tell him. But, I was too tired, and my mind too jumbled to manage anything of substance. I didn't want to wake him with it either. That was cruel. Hopelessly, I thought how there would never be a good time to tell the man I loved that I also had feelings for another. There would never be a good time to break his heart.

While I didn't want anything to change between Cullen and I, I couldn't get my mind off of Solas.

I turned in his arms to face him, pressing a kiss to his mouth. "Cullen, I need you to wake up. I'm sorry, but there are some things I need to tell you."

He returned my kiss, then slowly blinked into morning. "You can tell me anything," he replied.

"I know. That's why I have to tell you this." I sat up. The covers pooled around my waist. I pulled the sheet up, tucking it under my armpits.

That's when I heard the voice of Justice again. "It is time, Inquisitor," Justice called to me. I could feel their approach.

I heard the voices of three women outside the door.

"I don't know what they're doing," Marnie yelled in exasperation.

Cullen jumped out of bed pulling on his pants. I tossed a chemise over my head, blindly walking towards the newly erected spiral stairway. I heard the locked north door to Cullen's office open. By the time I had pulled my head out of my shirt to stand next to Cullen at the top of the steps, I saw a most unexpected scene.

A nearly seven foot tall man of blue light stood in front of Marnie, and two of the new elven scouts, Issera and Elliara. Solas stood behind them in the doorway with a pathetic, apologetic look on his face.

Justice kept speaking to me, though I didn't hear a word they said.

I felt Solas nudge my mind, the way he had done when he spoke to me in the Fade, asking for permission to enter. I opened the door.

"I am sorry. It is time," Solas' voice spoke so that only I could hear.

Everything first went green, then an unexpected golden light took over. The light felt as if it were being pulled through me, as if it were a part of me. I felt millennia go by in a flash. When I opened my eyes, I was gasping for breath, standing in the middle of Solas' rotunda. The walls were bare, his frescoes gone. I looked down at my bare feet on the stone floor, cleaner than I had ever seen it.

"What the f*ck?" I heard Marnie's familiar voice say.

I looked around at the three other women who stood with me. Marnie, Issera, and Elliara looked at me.

"Why are we here?" Issera said, cautiously. Her long light brown hair was plaited, hanging over her shoulder. She looked as if she hadn't been to bed last night.

Elliara stood next to her, looking similarly haggard. Her messy, curly red hair stuck out in a giant poof around her head. "Weren't we just in the Commander's office?" she asked.

"Yes, most definitely," Marnie answered. "Did you bring us here?" she asked me.

I shook my head. "No, I did not. But, I think I know who did."

"Why did he paint over all the paintings last night?" Elliara asked, surveying the empty room.

"I don't think that's what happened to the frescoes," I told her, walking towards the door that lead to the catwalk across Skyhold's bailey toward Cullen's quarters.

When I opened the door, I held my hand up to the sky, shielding my eyes from the unnatural, bright light. As my vision adjusted, I saw the sky had a lavender hue, the clouds pink. Skyhold's Great Hall was unfinished, under construction far greater than I knew yesterday. There was no roof atop the walls, just rafters.

Before me, there was no stone catwalk. Instead, a structure of smooth white wood stretched across the bailey far below. The bridge was curved in an elegant arch, lined with decorative curlicues and relief carvings on the walls to either side. A lattice work domed ceiling stretched across the length of the bridge, covered in a thick layer of ivy. Flowers such a bright shade of blue, they appeared to glow, dotted the canopy.

"I don't think we're in the Dragon age any longer," Marnie said behind me.

"No, I don't think we are," I agreed. I saw a familiar figure walking across the bridge I had been admiring. The set of his shoulders, the hands folded behind his back— it had to be Solas. However, he appeared to have something I hadn't seen before: a thick head of hair worn in intricate braids, gathered half-up in a bun.

He looked directly at me, his mouth twisted in confusion. I let my hand fall away from the door I was still holding open. I heard Elliara yell "hey" as it hit her. I began slowly walking towards him. He did not portray any other signs of concern as he approached.

"Wow, that's a lot of hair," Marnie said.

I could hear the three of them shuffling behind me.

As Solas crested the bridge, I could see that he wore a white robe decorated with a green and gold pattern. He wore knee high white suede boots, trimly fitted against his slender calves. His hair was a tawny brown kissed with hints of red. I found him all-consumingly breathtaking.

His eyes flicked over each of us, analyzing every detail. By the time he was close enough to speak he met each of our eyes in quick succession. "Are you looking for me?" he asked, his voice smooth and deep, yet slightly unfamiliar somehow.

I swallowed the nervous lump in my throat. "It appears I'm always looking for you," I told him.

His eyes narrowed, squinting at me. A look of surprise washed over his face. He took a step forward, saying a word I did not understand. "Isaqullika . . . you came back."

"No, I'm Isabeau," I said, stepping forward. I had this urge to touch him, but withdrew my hand. "Solas?" His face scrunched up in surprise when I said his name. "I— I'm Isabeau Trevelyan."

"You look just like her," he said, closing the distance between us. His eyes traveled over me, drinking me in. He grew quickly serious as his eyes bore into mine. "How do you know that name? Who sent you? Why do you look like her?" he asked, his voice more insistent with each word.

Foolishly, I would not fear him. I laid my hand on his chest. "No one sent me. I'm not here to hurt you. I don't know why I look like her. Is she a friend of yours?"

Solas clenched his eyes shut bowing his head. He snatched my hand, crushing it between both of his. His chest heaved for breath. In the next instant his eyes caught mine again, though now they were kind and understanding. His face lit up in shock, then joy as he pulled me into his embrace.

"I did it," he whispered tucking my head under his chin. "I kept you out of the grasp of Justice."

"Solas, what's going on?" I asked, stroking the soft fabric of his robe.

He held me at arms' length. "Walk with me?"

I nodded.

He glanced around me at Marnie, Issera, and Elliara. "My deepest apologies that you ladies have gotten caught up in this. I will explain. I need a moment with Isabeau first." Solas took me by the hand and began to walk back over the ivy-topped bridge.

"What in the f*ck is going on here?" I heard Elliara exclaim as we walked away.

When we were halfway across the bridge, Solas turned to face me. "This is somewhat difficult to explain. Please, bear with me."

"Of course," I replied.

"When you touched me, you passed a wealth of knowledge, all of our time together thus far, in fact. When I cast the spell that sent you back to me, I loaded it with this knowledge so that I would know you here. It is all quite jumbled in my mind, though as I focus on a memory it seems to sort itself out." He forced a smile. "I am sorry, I know this does not quite make sense."

"Well, you might be surprised what I find nonsensical these days," I retorted.

"Do you know when you are?" Solas asked.

"When?" I looked around. Some of the architecture looked the same: the rotunda, even the unfinished Great Hall. But, certainly this walkway was different. It must have been an earlier version of Skyhold. I looked up at the purple sky. Much earlier. "Have you brought me back to ancient Elvhenan?" I asked, trying to keep the tears at bay. Solas knew how much I loved the lore and the ruins of Elvhenan. We stopped at every ruin we saw on our journeys for him to tell me a story of the long lost empire of the Elvhen. Little did I know, he had seen it with his own eyes.

Solas nodded. "Yes, I did. I had to keep you away from Justice. I am sorry to make such a drastic decision for your life. However, I do believe I can get you back. I will just need several days to rewrite the spell and gather some components."

I could not imagine a more apologetic look on his beautiful, young face. In the Dragon age, Solas appeared to be a man, perhaps in his early-forties, who could easily pass for a man ten years younger. Now, he appeared much closer to his mid-twenties. I reached up, running my fingertips along the length of his perfectly smooth jaw, settling my thumb in the mouthwatering dimple of his chin. "There's no hurry. Suddenly, it feels like we have plenty of time."

He bit off the smile that began to spread across his lips. "I am not sure why these other three ladies have wound up here with you. Something about the spell went awry, and I will need some time to work out what it is, and how to correct it. It may go faster if Marnie helps me," he said.

"Well, you know me enough not to ask for my help," I teased.

Solas' hand slid past my cheek, his thumb flicking gently over the rounded tip of my ear as he cupped the back of my head. "You do not give yourself enough credit," he said, his steel grey gaze meeting mine.

"That woman you just asked me about . . . who is she? Why haven't you mentioned her before?" And, why did her strange name feel so familiar?

He took a deep, uneven breath. "Isaqullika. Hers is a long story, for another day." He still held my hand. Bringing my knuckles to his lips, he placed a nearly chaste kiss. "I will tell you everything. I promise."

My heart raced in my ears. Everything else faded away when he touched me, especially with those pouty lips. I was a sucker for pouty lips.

"Come, we should fill them in on what is going on," he said, taking my hand in his, gently tugging on my arm as he descended back down the bridge.

"What kind of flowers are these?" I asked, fingering the bright blue petals as I walked past it.

"Lyria," Solas answered.

"They are glowing!" I exclaimed.

"Indeed," he replied. I could feel his eyes on me as I stopped to peer around Skyhold.

"I can't believe you sent me back to Elvhenan. How is this even possible?" I marveled.

"I had to send you somewhere safe. That spirit of Justice doesn't even exist here, yet. I could not think of anywhere safer," Solas said, giving my hand a squeeze. "I hope you are not too upset with me."

I pulled his arm, turning him towards me. "I am not any upset with you. This is miraculous." We stared into each other's eyes for far too long, though neither of us could tear ourselves away. "It's like seeing you again for the first time."

He broke the silence shortly after I realized that all I wanted to do was kiss him, pondering why I hadn't done it yet. "You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen . . ." His fingers trailed down my neck as his hand slid down my spine, settling in the small of my back. ". . . in over three thousand years."

In one sentence, Solas had swiped the breath from my lungs.

"I am uncertain about how to proceed," he admitted.

I needed a drink of water. "I'm sure you'll figure that out."

A smile broke out across his face, staying there for an absurd amount of time. "I do not think it will take long."

As we sauntered back across the bridge, I saw Elliara's eyes shoot daggers towards where my hand was clasped in Solas'. "Where are we?" She yelled as if we were standing all the way across the bridge still.

"You are still in Skyhold, though it is not called that, yet," Solas answered.

"Then, when are we?" Marnie asked.

"You are in Elvhenan, over three thousand years before any of you will be born," he informed them.

Issera's eyes glazed over as she scanned everything she could see. Her chin quivered. She did not let the tear escape that threatened the corner of her eye. "Really?" she whispered.

"Yes, really," Solas told her.

Elliara took Issera's hand. "Damn. Well, would you look at that?"

Marnie was less interested in sight-seeing. "Why have you brought us here?" She stared at Solas demanding an answer.

"I will fill you in on everything I know," Solas told her. "It is a very long story. Shall I get you all something to eat first?"

"Oh, yes. I'm starving," Elliara said. "We didn't even get to eat breakfast yet."

"No." Marnie's voice was stern and cold. "I want to know what's going on."

"For f*ck's sake, Marnie. Didn't you hear me say I was starving?" Elliara screeched.

Issera tugged on her sleeve. "Can it, please?"

Elliara crossed her arms in front of her and leaned against the outer wall of the rotunda.

"I agree with Marnie. I, too would like to know what's going on," Issera said, facing Solas.

"Very well," Solas began. "I must offer you my deepest apologies. I do not know exactly why the three of you are here. I had cast a spell to send Isabeau to this time and place. It is the first time I have ever cast such a spell, and must have made a few mistakes." He looked down, his eyes darting back and forth. "It must have been the rider I placed on at the last minute. I can work those out, Marnie, perhaps with your help. Then, I can get you all back to the right time and place."

Marnie stepped forward. "You're f*cking with time magic? What the f*ck, Solas?"

"Yeah, what she said," Issera agreed.

Solas glanced over at me. "I did it to save Isabeau's life. And, it has worked. I'll do it again a thousand times over if need be."

"I guess we all know who really matters here," Elliara said from where she leaned against the wall.

Issera turned to her. "That's not fair."

Elliara made a face that clearly read she was unconcerned.

"I think some food might be a good idea after all," Marnie said.

Much later that evening, Solas and Marnie poured through the spell together. Solas spread his grimoire, as well as several other books out on the table after we ate. I tried paying attention for a while, but gave up after they lost me in some Ancient Tevene.

Elliara refused to have anything to do with Tevinter, and had been sitting at the far end of the table since it was mentioned. Issera, not being magically inclined in any way, sat across from her.

I looked at Issera. "Do you want to take a walk and see the rest of the place?"

Issera's face lit up. "Yes, definitely."

I walked over to Solas, laying my hands on his shoulders from behind. "Can we go explore?"

He reached up, laying his hand on top of mine. "Of course. Just mind the construction." He squeezed my hand briefly before turning his attention back to Marnie and the spell we were affectionately calling, 'Time Cookies.'

Issera and Elliara were standing at the apex of the bridge where Solas and I had stood earlier, surveying Skyhold's ancient beauty. Suddenly, I didn't want to join them, but felt I couldn't abandon them now since the walk was my idea. I approached slowly, trying to give them time to finish their conversation before I entered hearing distance.

Elliara glared at me as I walked up the bridge. I met her gaze. Eventually she began walking the other direction.

Issera followed as I reached her. "It's so pretty. I can hardly believe I'm actually here. I've dreamt about seeing Elvhenan my whole life. I have to get out of Skyhold, or whatever it is that they're calling it these days."

"Well, I guess if the spell can take us back to the place and time we choose, there's no harm in spending a little time here and getting to see the world." I looked around at just how different this world was from whence we came. Skyhold's main structure may have been the same, but literally every thing else was different. The sky, the clouds, the trees? All different. I, too, was interested to see what the rest of the world looked like.

We walked across the catwalk over toward the gatehouse towers beneath a lavender sky of pink clouds. The trees in the courtyard had branches curling upwards into spheres, such an odd, orderly layout for tree branches.

I did not want to walk into Cullen's office to find his desk and bookshelves missing. He wasn't even born yet. Of course they were missing. I turned the other direction.

"Why do you get two?" Elliara shrieked at me.

I turned to her. "Two of what?"

"You get the hot blonde, and the time-traveling elf-mage in not one, but two different time periods. How is that fair?" Elliara asked.

I shook my head with a sigh. "I am only in a relationship with Cullen. Solas and I are just . . ."

"Bullsh*t," Elliara called my bluff.

I met her angry brown eyes, unsure of what to say next that might be less provocative.

"You're not even an elf," she shot again.

I shrugged. "Elliara, what do you want me to say?"

"If I had it my way, I'd never hear you say anything again." Elliara turned on her heel, dramatically striding away from me.

Issera shrugged. "Sorry, Inquisitor." Then, she took off after her friend.

I was left standing at the top of yet another spiral stairway. I watched Issera and Elliara trudge away from me through the bailey of not-yet-Skyhold far below.

Slowly, I made my way back to the rotunda. Solas was closing books and rolling up scrolls. Marnie was rubbing her eyes.

"Did you lose your friends?" Solas asked.

"They are not my friends," I replied.

***

"I think I'm going to retreat to one of those little alcoves upstairs. I'm exhausted," Marnie declared, tucking a stack of books under her arm. "The other two turned in a while ago."

"Goodnight, Marn," I said, setting a hand on her arm. "Get some rest so you can have lots of brainpower tomorrow."

"Goodnight, Isabeau. You get some rest, too. There's another bed upstairs for you when you're ready," she said, leering at Solas.

I watched Solas, who pointedly avoided eye contact with Marnie, close his grimoire, setting it off to the side of his desk. I listened to Marnie walk up the stone steps to the second floor of the rotunda before speaking.

"Why did you bring me here?" I asked. It wasn't the question I wanted to ask. I wasn't sure what question I did want to ask. But, I knew it was a question I didn't want to ask. "Ahhhhh!" I screamed in frustration. "I can't take this, Solas!"

Solas turned to me, leaning back against his desk. He crossed his ankles, gripping the edge of the desk to either side of him. "I thought I was fairly clear about why I brought you here: to save you from Justice."

"Why didn't you just tell me to stay away from Justice?" I asked.

"I tried reasoning with you," he answered.

"Really, because I definitely don't remember that," I scoffed.

"I think I should show you," he replied.

"Yes, please," I pleaded.

"Come," he held a hand out to me. I took it. He threaded his long fingers through my much shorter grasp.

We walked back across the white wooden bridge covered in glowing blue lyrium flowered ivy.

"You look . . . becoming in Elvhen clothing," Solas said, about halfway across the bridge.

I felt my face flush with warm pink blush. "Thank you. I've never seen you look so much like an elf. It's . . . different. I don't even recognize you until I see you walk."

"My walk?" he asked, softly.

"You have a very distinct walk, Solas," I informed him.

"Noted," he replied.

"About the name," I started.

"Ah, that would be the other thing I need to tell you, when we get to my quarters," he said, keeping his pace.

Night had fallen some time ago while I was wandering the Keep getting clothing and food while Marnie studied with Solas, and Issera and Elliara did Maker knows what. The sky was a deep indigo. Wispy pinkish grey clouds occasionally passed in front of the waxing moon, which was thankfully familiar.

I found another familiar celestial object, my favorite constellation Fenrir, the great wolf. "That's weird. Fenrir has four legs. He only has three legs in the Dragon Age. Well, I guess you know the story of Fenrir."

Solas nodded. "I do. What do you know of Fenrir's story, though?"

"He chewed his own leg off when he was caught in a trap by Elgar'nan, who had captured Fenrir's beloved cat." When I looked at Solas, I had never seen his eyes so wide. "What? A human can't know that much Elvhen lore? My grandmother is an elf."

"It is unusual." Solas straightened his shoulders, regaining his composure. "That you know Vher'Sou'tarsyl, is shocking. She is a far lesser known goddess of Elvhenan."

When he said the goddess' name, it rolled off of his tongue like waves on the shore. I had only heard my grandmother say it in her thick Marcher accent. And, I had no idea how to spell it.

"Why is it so hard to find anything written about her?" I asked. "My grandmother told me about rumoured altars to her hidden around Thedas. But, that nothing in writing had ever been found. To her knowledge, only the oral tradition survived."

A strange, happy smile spread across his face. "She was here in Elvhenan for a relatively short amount of time. The rest of the Elvhen pantheon had a much longer run than the Lightning Cat," Solas said. "I believe when you get back to the Dragon age, Brother Genitivi in Denerim has a book that mentions her."

"You have a thing for her, don't you?" I asked, knowing that look.

He nodded. "You could say that." Again, he grew solemn. Solas never let the happiness overstay its welcome. "Isabeau, when I say I need to show you why I brought you here, I need to clarify that it's going to be unpleasant." His eyes caught mine, sincerity on his face. "It will be painful, both emotionally and physically. If you want to proceed, know that I will be here for you, for anything you need. We will get through this together. It is a lot of information to process."

"I trust you," I said, stepping into him.

"Know that if you do not feel that way after this, I will understand," Solas told me.

"I'm sure you will know if I change my mind," I replied.

"Yes, I will." He may have looked two decades younger, but he had the same serious face.

"Can you read my mind?" I asked, something I had suspected for quite some time.

With my hand still in his, Solas started walking again. "I could. However, I would never do such a thing to you without your permission," he answered.

"I think that's the most honest thing you've ever said to me. Somehow you're both weirder here, and hotter," I said, swinging my arm, my hand in his.

"I feel much the same way," he agreed, making me laugh.

A felt a smile spread across my face. I found it easier to talk to him here without the impediment of decorum coloring our every word and action. "Where are we going?" I asked.

"To my quarters. The spell will require privacy. What you tell the others about what you learn is up to you. But, I think you will want some time to be alone after this. I will leave when you are feeling well enough after, to let you get some sleep. We can discuss it whenever you are ready."

We continued walking hand-in-hand. It felt as if the nearer we got to the other side of the bridge, the slower we walked. I followed him up the spiral staircase to the tower atop the gate house opposite Cullen's. Both gate house towers had spiraling white wooden towers atop them.

There were a lot of steps up to my quarters in the tower that wasn't built yet, but they were arranged in what we considered to be a traditional pattern for a flight of stairs. These spiral staircases were a much different beast. I stopped halfway up when the walls and stairs had started spinning.

"It's a long climb," I said, leaning against the railing, hanging on tightly. The openness of the stairs below was rather unnerving.

"I do not miss spiral staircases in the Dragon age," Solas stated.

"Cullen just had some installed for me, like yesterday. Or will in three thousand years. This time thing is going to be very confusing. Isn't it?" I asked, as if he should know the answer to that.

"I suppose it will be confusing. Time is not supposed to be something that occurs out of order. Certainly, this will have unforetold side effects. I am sorry for my part in that." Solas took me by the hand, encouraging me to keep walking. He let his arm trail far behind him tugging me along. "I am sorry for my part in all of it."

"What have you done that has wronged me? I have never heard you apologize twice in the same breath before," I exclaimed, panting.

I heard the corner of his lip twitch at the thought of a smile. "You will find out."

He held his hand out for me as I reached the top of the spiral staircase. I placed my hand in his, standing next to him in awe of his space. There were no real walls. White branches curled into waist high walls, interweaving in an intricate, distinctly Elvhen, pattern. The bed sat to the right, its frame matching the walls. Small, round end tables sat to each side of the bed. The table to the left held only an unlit white pillar candle. The table to the right had a stack of three books, a glass half-full of water, a pencil, and a small statue of a cat.

The rug was a large beige, fleece hide. He had a white armoire across from the bed, and a linen chest at the foot. A gentle breeze blew across my face. I could see all of Skyhold and out into the Frostbacks from up here. As I knew from my own balcony back in the Dragon age, the wind up here often whipped so frantically, I had to keep my doors closed on all but the sunniest of days.

A waxing pink moon illuminated his face. Tree branches formed a pointed dome above us. The ceiling was thick with ivy that climbed the tree trunks in each corner.

Solas grabbed several large pillows off of his white, beige, and gold embroidered quilt, tossing them onto the fleece rug. He sat in a tall white wicker chair, shaped like a throne, unlacing his boots. "Make yourself comfortable. I will have you lie on the floor. The spell may make you feel a little nauseous and dizzy."

I sat on the edge of the bed, feeling nauseous and dizzy right now. I was in Solas' bedroom in ancient Elvhenan. My heart raced. I could hear the drumming beat in my ears. I knew the weird giant vein in my neck would be throbbing. I pressed the backs of my knuckles against the side of my neck. I removed the soft suede and fleece slippers I had been given earlier, since I arrived in Elvhenan in my chemise.

I wore flowing pants and a matching V-neck tunic in what I could only describe as cloud pink. They were the softest, bounciest material. There was nothing like it in Thedas. I sat on the floor, taking a pillow between my hands.

Solas sat on a pillow, placing another much smaller pillow on his folded legs. "Are you ready?"

I nodded, looking behind me at his lap as I laid my head in it. He rubbed his palms together briskly, before setting his chilly fingertips on my temples.

"Sorry, my hands are cold," he apologized.

My face was still flaming hot from his statement on the bridge earlier. "You feel good," I said, blushing again.

I felt Solas tap at the corner of my mind, asking permission to enter, a recent familiarity. I opened the door to him.

In that moment, I felt all of the closed doors come flying open. A tidal wave of information came rushing back to me. Memories from lifetime after lifetime were stacked atop one another. Years and years of memories repeating: the explosion at the Conclave, losing Haven, being rescued from the avalanche by Cullen, marrying Cullen again and again. Then, the Darkspawn attack. These memories had few happy endings. They had Justice, then Vengeance. Then, anguish, regret, and doubt.

Though, they did have Solas. Everytime after Justice left me, I ran to Solas seeking help when I could no longer hold myself together. Every time, he was there for me. Again and again, Solas swept up the pieces of my mind, trying to put me back together when I was far too broken to mend.

In one recent memory, Solas stood before me on the battlements atop Skyhold, late at night. The Frostbacks were darker than they were now. There was no moon, no shadows.

~~~

I wore just my dressing gown over my nightclothes, walking the midnight battlements in my slippers. Solas removed his wolfskin cloak, tucking it around me.

"I'll give it back to you tomorrow." I said it to him every night, and gave it back to him every morning. It had become our routine. Looking on it in retrospect, I knew it was his way of finding an excuse to touch me, and my excuse of needing to find Solas the first thing each day, and the last thing each night.

"Anything means anything," Solas said, running the back of his knuckles over my cheek.

I knew he would do anything for me. He didn't need to say it, but he had, on multiple occasions.

"I have not been showing you the mercy you have begged for." Solas cupped my cheek in his warm palm. "I have been casting a repose spell on you. That is what triggers the loop to reset. I have been keeping you in this nightmare. And, I am so sorry for my part in it."

Of course he thought all of this was his fault.

I lifted my chin high. "Do it. Put that spell on me. Let's do this one more time, and only one more time." I found my thumb tracing the edge of his bottom lip. I knew if this was going to be the end, I had to touch him. I settled in the seductive dimple of his chin.

He took my hand in his, pressing a kiss to my fingertips, nodding in affirmation. "One more time. First, I have something to ask of you. There was a time when I would not have asked for your permission. But, now I must."

I laid my hand on his cheek, my heart prostrate before him as I echoed his words, "I would do anything for you."

Solas squeezed my hand, swallowing the lump in his throat, with a glint of something like hope in his eye. "I ask that you give me your memories, all your knowledge of what has been happening here. I fear if you realize what is happening, that your magic may inadvertently interfere when I cast a spell using time magic to try to get us out of this trapped existence, like what happened at the Conclave. There will be consequences of accessing magic I do not fully understand. I cannot predict what will happen. Any interference could be catastrophic. I will return all the memories back to you when we are safely on the other side. I promise."

I clutched at his chest. "Take them! Take them all! Take Justice and Vengeance. I don't want them anymore."

"You will need them one day, to find strenth again," Solas told me. "But, I will take them for now. I would that you know peace."

It was the end of the timeline, and I knew it. I searched his eyes. "I'm in love with you. And, I need to know: Solas, are you in love with me?" Even in the moment I couldn't believe I was brave enough to ask him.

Ever so briefly, he set his mouth and hardened his heart. But, it melted away as quickly as it had shown up. His hands that had been gently sitting on my waist, slid around to rest on the small of my back, pulling us together. "Ar lath ma, Vhenan."

"What does that mean?" I asked.

He chuckled softly. "I do not believe I should answer that question."

Eventually, the flood waters of my mind began to recede. I awoke in Solas' lap. My head was now pillowed on his thigh. I was curled up between his legs, clutching a pillow under my arm, and his thigh in my hand. Solas had tucked my hair back away from my face, and was stroking my cheek.

"Isabeau, are you all right?" he asked, his hands gripping my shoulders, helping me to sit up.

"Yes. You were right. It is a lot of information." I turned to face him. "We've been traveling together for lifetimes," I said, thinking that it felt like I had been chasing him through the lifetimes.

"That is all of our time together. That is what you gave me. I now give it to you." He took my hand. "All I have ever wanted is for you to be safe, and happy. I do not seem to be able to help you achieve that." He looked down at his hands. "I cannot stop Justice, nor you. I could not find a way to help you after Justice left." Solas met my eyes. "I had to do something. This is what I chose."

I took his hand in mine. "It was the right choice." Tears had already begun to stream down my face. I looked up at him. "There's so much carnage in my wake."

He shook his head. His cheeks were taught as he reined in his emotions. "There is no wake this time, no carnage. It is all a memory now. No one else in this lifetime knows of it save you and I. I have prevented it from happening, and perhaps we will never again repeat it. That is why I brought you here. That is why I decided to experiment with something as dangerous as time magic. You are worth the risk."

I grabbed my head as pain exploded behind my eyelids, overtaking my vision. "Ah, it hurts," I said through clenched teeth, pressing the heels of my hands into my eyes.

Solas helped me to my feet. "Come, lay down on the bed. Let me administer some healing."

I nodded climbing under the linens as he turned down the bed. I rolled onto my side away from him, curling into a ball, trying to make the pain smaller. Solas curled his body around mine, chanting ancient Elven words. The white hot pain in my head dimmed as his body heat warmed me.

"I cannot take all the pain. There is too much of it in your memories. But, I will try," he whispered, pressing his lips to my temple.

"Stay, please?" I asked him, my voice high and frantic.

I felt his breath on my neck. "Of course."

"I don't want to wake up alone in a strange place." I was having a hard time catching my breath. I couldn't stop crying. I just didn't want him to leave.

"I will be here when you wake up. I promise. Sleep, Isabeau." Then, Solas whispered some words in Elven that I didn't know.

When I awoke, the strange pink light of day surrounded me. At first, I thought it was Cullen pressed up against me from behind. Then, I smiled. A warmth I had been longing for filled me. It wasn't Cullen. It was Solas. I woke in Solas' bed, in his arms for the very first time, and we weren't even unclothed.

There wasn't even an inadvertent erection pressed between my ass cheeks.

"Good morning." His melodic baritone voice was thick, yet soft, rumbling in his chest.

As I turned to face him, he retracted the hand on my hip. I ran my fingertips down his arm, threading my fingers between his. "Please, don't stop touching me." I reached for him, pulling us together. With pointed toes, I nudged a leg between his, running my bare foot over his calf.

"So, now that I have a headful of memories, I understand that a measurement of time, such as 'a week ago' hardly means anything to us any longer. However, a week ago you and I were f*cking in the Fade."

His eyes flared to life. "f*cking, were we?"

"I wanted to say 'making love,' but that felt . . . perhaps a bit exaggerated, I suppose." Exaggerated because I had been professing my love to him, and he had been avoiding me. I guess this was it. My heart was going to make it or break it here in Elvhenan.

His hand left a blazing trail down my arm to my thigh, hitching my leg over his hip. His lips sought my neck. "Well, were we f*cking or making love?"

Oh, this was happening. But, were we f*cking or making love? I didn't know. I burst into tears.

Solas instantly extricated himself from our increasingly sexual positioning. "Isabeau, my apologies. I did not mean to upset you."

I waved a hand. "I think I'm still all emotional from last night. I'll be okay in a minute. It's just . . ." It's just that I'm in love with you and you're not in love with me. How could I possibly say something like that out loud?

"I don't know if we were f*cking or making love. From what I recall, I've told you on multiple occasions that I'm in love with you." Oh, there it was. "And, you always brush me off. So, I guess I do know how you feel, and I've been a fool. I've been absolutely destroying myself because when I literally disappeared out of my boyfriend's bedroom, I was brought here. Instead of finally getting the chance to tell him that I have been having feelings for you, I'm here with you." I looked him in the eye. "I was going to f*ck up the best relationship I have ever had. I couldn't look him in the eye one more time without him knowing how I felt about you. And, he would have walked away from me. And, I would regret it for the rest of my life. All because I don't want to resist you any more." I sucked down the lump in my throat, throwing myself out of bed.

I found myself pacing the floor on the fleece rug where I had regained all of my traumatic memories yesterday. Sure, the joyous memories were in there too. But, the trauma sat heavy on my mind this morning. Currently my feelings for Solas were overwhelming, which made sense given the situation.

"I think I need to be alone for a while," I said, staring over the new view of Skyhold.

Solas pulled on his boots. "Would you like some coffee. It is not quite the same as it is back in Thedas. I will apologize in advance. But, I think you will find it a suitable substitute." He began to step out the door, pausing. "That is not a euphemism. I . . . I do not expect you to love me the way you love him. I am not trying to take Cullen's place in your life. I will get you home to him, as soon as possible. Give me seven days."

He closed the door without looking my way. I collapsed to the floor. At every turn, he stepped out of my life, afraid to take up space. I knew I had room enough in my heart for both Cullen and Solas. But, neither of them could understand that. How could they? It wasn't the way things were. I had to pick one of them, and Solas thought I had already chosen Cullen. But, when I told Cullen of my feelings for Solas, I knew that Cullen would be gone. And, Solas wouldn't let himself love me.

I would be alone. For the first time in my life. For the past twenty years, I have had the Circle. Now, the Inquisition filled that void. Although Skyhold was a much lonelier place than the Circle at Ostwick. In the Circle, I always had another Trevelyan around. My four brothers, my father: all dead. All dead because my magic had been unpredictable. Which is why Solas took the memories from me in the first place.

I'm unpredictable. I killed them. I killed my father and my brothers. How could anyone trust me? My magic is unpredictable, which makes me fear that Cullen is afraid of me. He isn't. I know this now. But, it doesn't stop the fear.

Solas patiently taught me control and discipline over the past four hundred lifetimes. That's what I learned when I had lived with Justice and Vengeance: control, and what it felt like to lose it.

It was too late to save my family. It was too bad the loop of time didn't go back farther so that I could have a chance to save them. But, as Solas had pointed out, the time loop originally began following the explosion, until the Darkspawn attack on Skyhold occurred. Ever since, that was where the loop of time reset.

I have made the mistake of taking all of my gratitude for Solas and falling for him. What choice did I have? He spent so much time with me. He tried so hard to help me harness the power within myself. Had I squandered it?

My brain felt scrambled. I could hardly hold one thought, let alone sort through lifetimes of lifetimes.

I loved him. I loved him, and I was here in Elvhenan with him. I knew he loved me. Why else would he bring me here? And, why wouldn't he say it?

Because he knew I loved Cullen. I had loved Cullen through the lifetimes. I had married Cullen.

Solas didn't tell me that he loved me because he knew I chose Cullen again and again. So, he didn't let himself love me.

That means Solas wanted to love me, but didn't know how. I was going to have to show him.

Elvhenan was a harsh mistress of truth.

Solas knocked on the door.

"It's your room. You don't have to knock," I said, opening the door.

"It is currently your room," he said, handing me a cup of coffee.

I took a quick sniff and blew across the top of the perfectly caramel colored beverage. It smelled like coffee. As I took a sip, it tasted like coffee at first. Then, the aftertaste had a much earthier flavor, less bitter than coffee. "That's delicious. Thank you."

He still held the door in his hand.

"Please, don't go. There are so many things I want to say to you," I told him. His eyes were kind, understanding. "I don't know where to start, exactly."

"I think we will have plenty of time to get things off our chests, so to speak. Why not try starting with what was upsetting you earlier?" He took a seat in the throne chair.

"I don't think there's much more to say on that. I have to tell Cullen that I have feelings for you. He'll leave me. And, I'll be alone. It's frightening. Skyhold is so big, and so full of people. But, sometimes it's just so lonely." I tried to quell my quivering chin. "My father and brothers are gone. I'm just so lonely. I would have done anything to silence the call of the loneliness, even letting a demon possess me." I looked up at him. "I don't want to feel that lonely ever again. I never want to feel that desperate again."

Solas took the coffee from my hands, setting it on the nightstand. He held my hands in his. "Can I ask you something?" His hands trembled. I had felt this sensation before, all those times we stood on the parapets together, in the cold, after Justice.

My mouth gaped open at him. "Yes, anything."

There was that word again. Anything.

"What is it about me that you are trying to resist?" he asked, his face stoic, his eyes sadder than I ever could have imagined.

In that moment, I knew that he believed himself to be unlovable. My heart broke thinking about what he had been through in his past to make him feel this way. In fact, I could not remember a time when I had not been in love with him. All this time . . . I had loved him, but had never shown it, not like I did with Cullen. It felt like a crime. I realized that I was not simply hurting myself any longer, I was hurting Solas. I could feel his pain, for it was my pain too.

My heart shattered every time I wanted to kiss him, and I held it in. Every time I walked away from him without touching him felt like a lie. I had been hiding it from Cullen, a lie of omission. The guilt in my stomach clawed towards the surface.

I couldn't tell Cullen anything while in Elvhenan. The time would come. I couldn't let Cullen in here. He didn't belong between Solas and I any longer. My heart shattered a little more thinking about watching his heart break. He wasn't here. I had to put him away.

Solas looked at me with those tempestuous grey eyes.

I held his gaze. "I've been trying to resist everything about you. I find you irresistible."

His gaze held mine. "What I want is for you to be happy. You are happy with Cullen. He is a perfect specimen of a man. And, you have been joyously happy together for lifetimes before I came in and ruined it. I am sorry for that. I did not want to interfere in your relationship."

I didn't know what to say to make things better. "I do not regret a thing about making love to you that day in the Fade." Everything I could think of to say, would have just made things worse. But, I had to say something. "I only regret that I fell so hard for you because it hurts so bad. And, I don't know what to do about it."

Solas' face went solemn. "Back in the Dragon age, I will have waited three thousand years for you. I do not know what it feels like not to want you, Isabeau Trevelyan."

The words that just came out of Solas' mouth were impossible. He wanted me? Me? He had never said anything like that before.

"Do you have any idea what three thousand years feels like?" he asked.

I glanced around, remembering what it felt like to be pulled through three thousand years of time in one moment. "Yes," I answered honestly. "I felt those years being pulled through me as you brought me back here. I thought it would never end. It was almost sickening."

He put a hand on my shoulder. "You felt it?"

I nodded. "Yes. I felt it." I stared at him intensely.

He met my eyes, reaching for me. I intertwined my fingers in his. "Every moment without you felt as if it would never end."

The next words to come out of Solas' mouth were more impossible.

Solas took a deep breath. "When you leave here in a few days, I will wait three thousand years for you. And, in this moment, all I can think about is how I never want to let you out of my grasp ever again."

Chapter 19: May the Dread Wolf Take Me

Chapter Text

Chapter 19: May the Dread Wolf Take Me

The next words to come out of Solas' mouth were more impossible.

Solas took a deep breath. "When you leave here in a few days, I will wait three thousand years for you. And, in this moment, all I can think about is how I never want to let you out of my grasp again."

"That's a really long time," I replied, still wondering how I could feel all of that time as it passed through me yesterday. Three thousand years in the the span of a breath. I still didn't understand. But, here he was with his long flowing braids, the warmth of his palms on mine.

"Yes, it is." Solas rubbed his thumb on the back of my hand, as we stood with them clasped between us.

Imagining what it would be like to live that long was impossible for me. Imagining what it would be like to live that long without him was unfathomable. I couldn't live without him any longer. "I'm sorry."

Solas shook his head, wrapping his arms around me. "I would wait forever for you."

I shut my eyes, letting the tears fall as his touch permitted my feelings to burst forth. "I'm so sorry." I crumpled as the pain of what he would go through became too much to bear.

"Being sorry is unnecessary," he cooed, pulling me into his embrace.

"When I get back to the Dragon Age, I'm going to tell Cullen how I feel about you," I told him. "In fact, I was trying to do just that when I arrived here."

Solas pressed his lips to the top of my head. "Isabeau, there is something I need to tell you, something I think may change your mind. I am sorry that I have not told you sooner."

Oh, Maker, what was he trying to tell me? Why must he always be so dramatic?

"I mentioned that this place is not yet called Skyhold. It is called Fen'Harel's Keep." He pulled away slightly to look at me.

His eyes . . . what was it about those grey eyes? They were a hypnotic field of fine Orlesian steel, the kind where you can see where the metal has been folded back over itself countless times. My heart raced.

He looked down at his feet for a moment, then back up, taking a thoughtful breath before meeting my eyes. "I am Fen'Harel."

The room seemed to shake when he spoke. I heard the glass candlesticks on the nightstands rattle. I think my smallclothes fell off my body.

"You're the Dread f*cking Wolf," I said, blinking my tears dry in a few big, quick, irate blinks.

The corner of his lip curled into that sinister smirk. It made me want to stick my tongue down his throat. And, it made me want to ram my knee into his groin.

Solas took a step back, trying to keep that smirk from spreading across his face. "I apologize for keeping it from you for so long. Somehow, it does not feel especially relevant in the Inquisition."

"How is the fact that you are not merely a three thousand year old elf, but one of the Evanuris not feel 'especially relevant?'" I shrieked at him.

Solas had the good sense to look abashed, finally. "I am not a god. I am mortal, like you, just especially long lived. Here in Elvhenan, yes, we seem immortal. We age very slowly. I could live another three thousand years after your natural death. Although, after you are gone, I do not know that I will ever again find purpose."

"You're evading my questions again. How is it not relevant?" I asked, pointedly.

Wait . . . did he just say that he can't live without me?

"I suppose, what I should say is that no one would believe me. How would I prove it? And, why would it matter?" Solas appeared satisfied at my level of irritation now.

He was trying to get a rise out of me! Fen'Harel, the trickster god of the Elvhen pantheon — why would anyone believe him? Now that I realized he wanted my anger as punishment for his self-imposed crime, I wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

"I would have believed you even if you hadn't brought me back here." I stepped into his field of view to force him to look at me. "I believe you."

I placed his hand on my chest. "I believe in you."

He tried taking his hand back, but I held fast. He met my eyes again, a practiced blank look upon his face.

"I believe in you," I repeated. "This is why you brought me here. You didn't think I would believe you if I didn't see it for myself."

Fen'Harel shook his head side-to-side, tearing his gaze from mine.

I held tight to his hand when he tried to take it from my grasp, again. "Solas, I will always believe in you. Anything means anything."

We had said those words to each other on several occasions before, often standing on the parapets of Skyhold in the cold midnight air after he had wrapped me in his wolf pelt cloak.

When he spoke after a long, pregnant moment, he did not look at me. "I have not let things advance between us, because I could no longer lie to you about it. I needed you to know . . . I needed you to know who I was, who I am."

The man I had known as Solas looked at me, his chin trembling. He took a deep breath, straightened his shoulders. "I was afraid of losing you, even though you were not mine to lose."

"And, now?" I asked.

Again, he shook his head in disbelief. "Now, I am tired of being afraid to hope. Now, that we are here, alone together, perhaps we can have a few days—" Solas trailed off, meeting my eyes.

"A few days?" I asked, trying to keep that accusatory tone out of my voice. "Do you think a few days is what I want with you? Is a few days long enough to get to know Fen'Harel?"

He smiled as I used that name for the first time. "I will hope for a lifetime. And, I will take a few days if it is all I can get."

A lifetime? Could I really stay here a lifetime with him? I couldn't imagine not returning to the Inquisition. Tears overwhelmed me as I thought about what that would do to Cullen. No, I couldn't stay here a lifetime. But, that didn't mean Solas and I couldn't have a lifetime together.

I took his hand between mine. His palm was warm, but his fingertips cold. I just needed him to know. "My heart has been yours for so long, I don't even remember giving it to you."

Solas put his forehead to mine. "Anything means anything."

We stood that way for quite some time. His hands clasped mine so tightly. There was no letting go now. I felt the frantic thrumming of my heart slow with my breath. Through the back of my hand, where it was pressed to his sternum, I felt the drumming of his heartbeat. He laid a kiss to my temple.

I tilted my face up to his. "Fen'Harel."

"Yes," he replied, still waiting for some sort of negative response from me.

"How can that be?" I asked, still in shock.

"Fate, I suppose," Fen'Harel answered, remarkably straight-faced.

"It explains a lot actually." I slid my arms around his back, needing to be closer to him. ". . . the ego, the haughty tone you have to your voice."

Solas' grip around me tightened in response. "I was going to say that I will have a very hard time letting go of you, if you are going to hang onto me this tightly. However, your flattery needs work." An eyebrow raised my direction.

"I have no intention of letting go," I said, sweeping my hands up his back. I felt a change happen in him then. "All this time you've been one of the Evanuris."

"I do not consider myself to be one of them," he corrected me.

"No, but everyone else does," I replied.

"And, you?" He asked.

"You will always be Solas to me," I told him.

Solas swayed against me, stroking my cheek with the backs of his knuckles as his other hand settled into the small of my back. He cupped my face, tilting it up. Softly, our lips met as if he were afraid I was but a wisp of a cloud, and his breath may sweep me away. I was only swept away with thoughts of what it would be like to make love to this man over and over. I thought my lips might never leave his again.

Solas crushed me to him, tighter than ever before, nuzzling his nose into my hair next to my ear. I felt his sudden intake of breath as his lips touched my earlobe. I sighed against his chest. I was going to rip my clothes off at any moment if he didn't start.

Realizing that I had given myself permission to have a sexual relationship with Solas at this point, tore through me rampantly. I had to have him. No. I got to have him, to have my way with him, here in his bed, in Skyhold— a place that had been our home for hundreds, if not thousands, of years already. No longer did I know how to measure time, nor if it mattered.

It didn't matter how old he was, or who had come before. Now, there was only Solas and I. My body exhaled. I unfurled at his touch, reaching for him.

The tender flesh of his earlobe brushed against my lips.

Nipping.

Nibbling.

Biting.

Stretching, I wrestled the taut flesh between my teeth as his breath streamed down my neck.

"Do you like that?" I asked, releasing my grip on his ear with another brief pinch.

Solas took a breath, composing himself. "Yes." His chest heaved great, ragged gulps of air.

"Will you show me what else you like?" I asked, my lips searching the skin of his neck before me.

He dug his fingernails into the meat of my back, through my shirt, raking them down my spine. I melted as our need permeated the air around us.

"Is there anything you do not want me to do?" Solas asked, meeting my gaze.

In that moment, the lust I had been saving up for him was overwhelming. "I want you to touch me everywhere," I told him, my voice trembling.

"We are so well matched," he said, cupping my face in his hands, kissing me yet again. "That is all I want from you, too."

I found his pouty bottom lip with my teeth, nipping at the tender flesh, pulling it away with a snap. "May the Dread Wolf take me," I whispered in my best seductress voice.

A growl rumbled up from his chest. "As you wish."

Solas reached under my backside, picking me up off the ground. Grabbing my legs, he wrapped them around his waist as our mouths crashed together. I enveloped him, pressing my breasts against his chest. We devoured each other. He scraped his teeth against the tender flesh of my neck, biting down, gently tugging before running his soothing tongue across afterwards.

I buried one hand under the thick braids gathered at the nape of his neck, holding his mouth to mine. With my legs clenched around him, my core throbbed longing to have him inside me.

He set me down on that throne shaped chair, standing before me. Plucking at the end of the tie of his dressing gown, the forest green velvet fell open, revealing only his smallclothes beneath— a pair of black silken shorts. He pushed the dressing gown from his shoulders, standing there a moment as I ogled his glorious frame.

Fen'Harel's auburn braids trailed down his back, some falling over his shoulders. The sides of his head were shaved, reminiscent of the beautiful bald head I had fallen in love with back in the Dragon age. His steel grey eyes had far fewer lines around the edges. They drank me in, waiting for an answer to his offering. They would wait a moment longer as my gaze traveled down his body.

He was tall and slender, with the striking outline of washboard abs. I wanted to trace the groove of each muscle with my tongue. The valley of the 'V' of his hips lead me to his co*ck, jutting out at me from behind black silk. I finished my journey down his body, following the curve of his thigh, down his long calf, to his meticulously pedicured toenails. I attempted to take my time traveling back up his other leg, but ended up staring at his tented crotch instead.

I bit my lip, and met his eyes. Then, I pulled at the tie of my dressing gown, revealing the soft pink elven pajamas as the forest green velvet fell from my shoulders. I lifted the hem of my shirt. His gaze fell to my freshly exposed breasts. Inserting my middle finger into my mouth, I pulled it out slowly, catching the edge of my lip on the way. I trailed the wet fingertip down my neck, dipping between my breasts, trailing it down my belly, sliding my hand into my waistband. Unsurprisingly, I found I was already wet for him. I slid that finger inside of myself, reaching for where I wanted him to be.

The hunger on his face grew as his eyes followed my bouncing breasts. After a few more passes, I removed my finger, sliding it back into my mouth, swirling my tongue around it to taste my salty-bitter-sweetness.

Mouth agape, Solas watched me remove my pants. I pushed the rosey fabric from my legs to pool on the floor. Spreading my knees, I showed him my center, biting my finger.

His nostrils flared. I could have sworn his eyes flashed, glowing ever so briefly with violet light. He met my gaze momentarily before looking at my wet snatch. Once again, I slid my middle finger between my netherlips, spreading the wetness as I rounded my cl*t.

I had never seen him look so purely happy as he did in that moment. Truly, it was a look I will never forget. Solas had always been a man who did not let himself feel something so gratuitous such as happiness. I knew that not a single minute of time we would spend together would be a mistake. We were already so in love. I knew that now, even if it had not been said so explicitly. When I was with Solas, I hardly needed words.

As his eyes met mine, with that smirk I loved, Solas slid his hands into his waistband, pushing the black silk to the floor. His co*ck bounced with its newfound freedom, strikingly erect, reaching up towards his navel. I wanted to take it into my mouth, but Solas had other ideas.

He knelt in front of me, placing his hands on my inner thighs, nudging my legs apart. Almost reverently, he placed a kiss on the inside edge of my knee, then another further up on my thigh, proceeding kiss-by-kiss up one thigh, and down the other.

Solas' splayed hands gripped my back as his tongue dipped between my netherlips, licking the edge of my fingers. I flicked at his tongue with a fingertip, which he nipped. His eyes gazed up at me from his tongue's new home buried in my puss* with a mischievous glint.

I felt myself climbing to a quick org*sm. I attempted to delay it, but I had waited so long for this already. I removed my hand, reaching for the smooth sides of his head, raking my nails ever so gently from his temples, across the velvet sides of his scalp, down towards the base to hold him to me. He nipped and suckled at my cl*t, sliding one finger inside of me, then another, gently lapping at my wetness as his fingers curled within.

The tightness within me built, winding, twisting in anticipation. Short quick gasps were all I could manage as my thighs gripped his face. I felt a cool breeze blow across the sweat beneath my breasts, giving me gooseflesh. His tongue delved, exploring every piece of me he could reach. I flung my arms over my head, gripping the chair behind me tightfisted.

His tongue probed, lapping within me where his fingers were a moment ago. Solas hooked his arms under my knees, positioning my legs over his shoulders to reach even deeper inside of me. My thighs relaxed the vice-like grip on his head, letting my legs fall open. The pressure within me built as he took long, slow paths up and down my cl*t with his nose as his tongue traced my honeyed folds.

My hips followed his movement, begging him to continue his ministrations within. I opened for him, giving him access to all of me. His hands gripped my thighs as his arms wrapped around my legs. A long groan tumbled up from his chest as he nuzzled his smooth face against my inner thighs.

I couldn't hold it at bay any longer. I threw back my head sending my release into the air. As he felt me pitch over the edge of a roaring climax, he held his rhythm steady against me, letting me ride the wave. I clamped my thighs around his head. His fingers dug into my flesh where he clutched me.

Solas' mouth found all of the perfect parts of me as I trembled with him between my legs. I felt the sparks of my hand tingle as the magic within me awoke, unbidden. I worried that I had hurt him, but he suckled, and licked, and stroked me until the spasms began to settle and my breathing slowed.

When he pulled away, a thin clear trail connected us momentarily. I wanted to taste myself on him. I leaned down, pulling his face up to mine. That growl rumbled up from his chest once more.

"You continue to surprise me," he said against my lips.

I kissed him again, letting my own juices mingle in our mouths. He tasted of me. I couldn't imagine anything more erotic. I wanted him inside of me. I ached for him as my core clenched in wait.

When he pulled away to catch my gaze, his eyes flashed ever-so-briefly violet. I would have thought I had imagined it if it weren't the second time I had seen it.

"Is that the Dread Wolf?" I asked.

"It is," he answered. "Does he frighten you?"

"No," I answered, assuredly. "Quite the opposite."

I felt Solas' mind nudge mine. I flung the door open, letting him in. "You are always welcome here," I thought, hoping he could hear me.

"Hold onto me," he said into my mind.

Then, I saw the brief image of him standing up. I hooked my legs around his shoulders, tucking the tops of my feet against chest, grabbing onto his head with both hands.

In the next instant, Solas was standing with me on his shoulders, my crotch still in his face. He turned, walking towards the bed. I felt the smile spread across his face as he nuzzled his nose, and dipped his tongue into me again. With his long arms supporting my back, he laid me down on the bed.

As I extricated myself from our entanglement, his mouth took mine again. His hands left trails of fire across my back and over my buttocks as he pulled his arms out from under me.

He pressed a kiss to my mound before pulling away. A smile spread out across his face, something that I had rarely seen before Elvhenan. And, something that was getting increasingly more common the more time we spent alone together.

His tall co*ck stood at attention, pointing towards his overnumerous abdominal muscles. I spread my legs, reaching my hand into the wetness between. He was going to slide right inside of me. His eyes met mine. His mouth gaped open. His chest heaved. I let my eyes fall down his body.

I saw his turgid co*ck throb. I reached for him, sliding my thumb across the tip, spreading the bead of precum around the head. I felt his knees think about giving way for a moment.

Solas leaned down, covering my body with his as he pushed me back down onto the mattress. Our tongues danced. I wrapped my legs around his so that I could feel him throb against my mound.

I wanted him inside of me so bad that I felt like I was going to explode into an org*sm. But, surely that could wait a few more moments since he was still drawing this out.

"Roll over," I whispered into his mind.

Solas reached his arms underneath me, burying his face into my neck. Teeth nipped ever so briefly as he rolled with me onto his back. I hoisted myself over him, flattening him beneath me with a hand on his chest. His eyes flashed violet again.

I moved down his body until I was straddling one knee. I bent over, pushing my ass up into the air as I cupped his balls. Nuzzling the underside with my nose, I placed my tongue beneath his smooth sack. With barely a whisper-of-a-touch, my tongue traced the most intimate of spots on the male body, between ass and balls. With the tip of my tongue, I traced the skin as it tightened against his body. I slid my hands beneath his legs, cupping his taut buttocks to lift him slightly off the bed. He levered himself in the air to give me access.

I listened to the soft gasps of surprise escape his lips as he wriggled. With a quick intake of breath, I pulled one testicl* into my mouth, rolling my tongue gently across the paper-thin skin. I blew softly. The skin puckered. I licked wrinkling flesh as it retreated, moving onto something that would be more appreciative of my attentions.

I flicked a fingertip across his puckered flesh. He spread his legs, relaxing at the touch. I traced the pleated flesh, running my finger from ass to sack, back and forth. His co*ck bounced against my cheek.

I quieted it, laying my tongue flat against the base of his prick. How different it was without any hair in the region. I briefly thought of Cullen's thick patch of golden curls, then remembered Max's elven lack of body hair. I shook my head to remove the intruders.

Starting over, I once again laid my tongue flat against Solas' shaft. Slowly licking up its long length, I stretched, arching my back, lifting my ass high up into the air. With one long arm, he reached out, taking a handful of my ass, before gently slapping it.

A low hum escaped my throat as I mumbled an affirmative at him. I circled the head of his co*ck with my tongue, then massaged the length as I took him into my mouth. I pressed his throbbing member to the roof of my mouth, where I realized I could feel the heartbeat of his dick through my tongue, which made me giggle. Unfortunately.

Immediately, I realized the error of my ways. I took his member out of my mouth, covering my lips in embarrassment. "I'm so sorry. I felt your heartbeat on my tongue, because your dick was in my mouth. And, it all sounded very silly in my head. I didn't mean to laugh with your co*ck in my mouth. I'm sorry if I ruined this."

Solas looked shocked. "I know. I heard your thoughts in my mind."

I heard his voice, though his lips hadn't moved.

"You can hear my thoughts?" I asked.

"If you do not wish for me to hear your thoughts, you simply need to close the door, Isabeau," he told me.

"Perhaps later," I replied. "Anyhow, where was I?" I asked, taking his slightly softened length in my hand.

His shoulders gave way, and he fell back down to the mattress, closing his eyes. I bent over him once again. Taking a deep breath, I wet the head of his co*ck, before taking him into my mouth. I relaxed my jaw and throat, concentrating on not gagging as I nestled my nose into the base of his co*ck. Massaging the shaft with my tongue, I hummed softly deep in my throat.

Solas buried his hands into my hair, sighing in exhale. Wriggling beneath me, he ran one leg down mine, holding us together.

Briefly, I looked up at him, watching him writhe for a moment before he peeked at me. The Dread Wolf flared at me from behind his eyes, as a low rumble reverberated in his chest. Meeting his eyes with his co*ck in my mouth, demonstrating something I considered a prowess, gave me such a strange feeling of power.

He unraveled at my touch, resisting the urge to climb towards climax as I nudged him ever closer to the peak. Closing my eyes once again, I let my lips travel back up and down his turgid rod, sliding my hand along the length to avoid swallowing it up to my gag reflex.

I had never heard him so relaxed before. The noises escaping from him were nothing I had ever expected to hear from Solas. I circled the tip with my mouth, then took his balls in my hand. Running a fingertip back and forth to the soft puckered skin below, I felt his co*ck jump in my mouth. I closed my lips around it, humming softly in satisfaction.

Both of his hands clamped down on my head, taking fistfuls of my hair. I grunted with pleasure. My back arched, my thighs tightened. "Mmm-hmm," I mumbled, co*ck-mouthed. Ever so lightly, I fingered his tight entrance, circling it with gentle pressure. He tugged on my hair, pulling me away.

I removed his co*ck from my mouth, with a pop from my lips, and a flick of my tongue across the head.

"As good as that feels, I fear I will not last much longer with that course of action," Solas said, aloud. "No one has ever done that to me before. I feels unbelievably good."

His eyes were clenched shut, his breathing ragged. He had an arm thrown over his face. This was the Solas I had been yearning for: the vulnerable one.

I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, rolling my body up his, sliding his glistening member between my breasts on my way past. A long sigh escaped him. I took his mouth with mine positioning myself to straddle him. As I positioned his tip at my slickened entrance, his hands gripped my hips.

I rocked my pelvis, passing my wet netherlips across his shaft several times, spreading my lubricant up and down his length. In the next breath, I slid down his sweet long prick, impaling myself on him, splaying my hands on his chest. His stormy grey eyes met mine. His mouth hung open as I rode him, our bodies rolling together in harmony. With Fen'Harel's sweet prick inside of me, he nearly lost the control to which he had clung so tightly.

Again, I felt a strange sensation pull at my midsection. That golden thread! I felt those three thousand years of loneliness pass through me. I would not waste the precious little time we had together. I made love to Solas; I f*cked Fen'Harel. I would not resist him any longer.

His hand buried into my hair, bringing my lips to his. His tongue slid inside of my mouth. I tasted of him and he tasted of me. We devoured one another.

I set my hands on his broad chest, tacky with sweat. His lips parted as he gripped my hips, holding me onto him, sliding me up and down his co*ck slowly, yet more intensely. Even from beneath me, he took control.

Fen'Harel watched my breasts bounce as I rode him. As if we were made to fit together, he found the place inside of me that sent me hurtling towards ecstacy. He reached the parts of me that made me writhe overtop of him.

My core clenched. I threw my head back, announcing yet another mind-blowing org*sm with a yell. The tremors vibrated through us both. Though, I felt Solas hold back the climax that was trying to escape him.

Sliding my breasts against his smooth chest, I lowered myself down to press my lips to his. One lithe hand slid up my sweat-slickened back, cupping my head and neck. The other arm wrapped around me, pressing us together. I moaned in his grip as his co*ck reached even deeper within me, throbbing in my core as he stroked me from below.

I rolled my languid body against his. He nipped at my ear. With one quick motion, he pushed me to the side, rolling me to my back.

Now, from my new position beneath him, I stared up into his eyes that flashed briefly violet again. His lips latched onto my neck nipping and kissing a path across my collarbone, down my sternum and belly, over one hip, then the other. His fingers flitted across my breasts, roving my belly, tracing my ribs.

After taking a tour of my body, his lips returned to mine. I felt the head of his co*ck at my slickened entrance, knocking, asking permission to enter. I reached around, grabbing his taut buttocks, pulling him into me. His long co*ck slid inside of my soaking wet snatch, pinning me to his bed. He grunted softly in my ear, burying his face in the side of my neck. He held his breath for several long moments before releasing a sigh. I felt him throb within me as he took another deep breath, maintaining stillness and control.

"I want to take my time with you, but I fear I may not last much longer," he admitted quietly.

I took his earlobe roughly between my teeth. "Come with me, Solas," I exhaled.

Agonizingly slowly, he began to move inside of me. Solas had unmatched patience. As he withdrew, my core clenched at the emptiness. His eyes met mine once again, as I felt him fill me. My legs fell open accepting his weight. I clutched at the meat of his back, holding him to me. When he had sheathed himself to the hilt inside of me, I wrapped my legs around his, rising to meet him.

He pressed his forehead to mine breathing in heavy, ragged gasps. His hips followed mine in short quick bursts.

Then, he curbed his appetite, holding himself still for many long breaths, fully within me, before withdrawing, ever so slowly.

So . . . painfully . . . slowly.

Little by little, Solas withdrew the length of his co*ck with the finesse of the finest violinist. I felt the strings within me vibrate to the tune he played.

As his co*ck left me, I languished, but only for a moment. The sensation caused my body to clench around his. The muscles in my arms and legs spasmed so strongly that I didn't think I could hold onto him any tighter. My legs were locked around his, my heels digging into his calves. I clutched his rippling shoulders, pulling myself up to him as he lifted his weight off of me.

A smile broke out across his face. "I was not trying to escape you."

His hard length was pressed between us. I rolled my mound against him. "I want you inside of me," I said as my body undulated against him of its own volition.

Solas placed a steady hand on my back, as he held us both off of the mattress with one arm. I felt the cool sheets, damp with our sweat, welcome me back down into his bed.

That sinister smirk tipped the corner of his lip. The crook of his eyebrow shot up towards his hairline, which I was still getting used to. "I must admit, my first instinct is to make you squirm like that some more. However, I know that you will take what you want, and would rather give in this instance."

Then, he placed just the tip of his prick at my entrance. It was only a long moment, but as he throbbed against my skin, I felt as if I wouldn't survive another second unless he was inside of me again.

I reached between us, moving his co*ckhead a bit lower as I reached for him with my hips, engulfing him. Solas lowered himself, sinking into me with the entire weight of his body as it roiled against mine.

Once again, my body locked around his, refusing to let go this time. I took his tight ass in my hands, pulling him deeper, holding him there as I stroked his co*ck from below.

He cupped my head, cradling me delicately, as if he were afraid I would break. It reminded me of the way he had held me before my Joining, before he had placed me in that repose spell to keep the taint from ravaging my body. When he held me this way, I knew that I was the most important person in the world to him.

Solas put his forehead to mine, breathing heavily. Inch-by-glorious-inch he began to withdraw again. But, before withdrawing completely, he began to resheathe himself within me. Again and again, slow and steady, back and forth. He held me so gently, yet I could not do the same in return. My arms and legs were twisted around him, grappling us together.

My breath trembled. His mouth took mine. Our tongues danced as I held him to me with all my strength.

In and out, again and again, Solas moved within me until I heard him gasp, and felt his resolve slip. With long strokes, he moved more quickly, edging me closer and closer to ecstacy. I saw my left hand erupt in green sparks, something it had never done before in a moment such as this.

"Sorry," I said, thinking I had hurt him. But, he did not flinch.

"Let go, Isabeau," he replied, his body almost coming to a halt.

The glowing green light doubled in size as the sparks crackled. Then, a warmth spread through me. We had been enveloped in a golden dome of light, crackling with green sparks. "I don't know what's happening," I declared, wrapping my arms around his broad shoulders. The sparks coming out of my left hand had never before made such a display.

With his lips against mine, he said, "Let it happen."

So, I did. Sparks from my hand jumped into the canopy above. Tiny green sparks danced around us within the golden glitter. I clutched at him watching my magic run wild. I soon forgot about what was happening before my eyes and returned to the pleasure growing within me yet another time.

As the tremors started once again, I felt my magic vibrate at its newfound freedom. I lost myself in Solas in that moment, giving into the urge to fling myself into the abyss.

A growl rumbled up deep from inside his chest. A glimmering purple dome sprang up around us, encasing my magic within his, enveloping us both.

"Are you ready for this?" he asked.

"Yes," I answered, then immediately realized I didn't know what he was asking about. "Wait, ready for what?"

The moment I met his eyes, I watched as our reality shifted to green. The ceiling above became swathed in foggy, green light that flowed out from us. Eventually, the entire room existed within a glimmering green, otherworldly light surrounded in a purple dome.

"Are we in the Fade?" I asked.

"Isabeau, the Fade is within you," he answered, looking at my hand. "Or it was a moment ago."

"I did this," I began to realize. Solas' co*ck throbbed within me. My eyelids grew heavy as my body continued responding to his.

Solas nuzzled his face into my neck. "You did. We are safe here," he told me.

I nodded in agreement. His lips took mine as his body moved within me. My hand crackled. The light of the Fade flickered. Solas threaded his fingers through mine, stretching my arm above my head, pinning it to the pillow beneath me.

Warmth spread through me. The hunger within Solas broke through to the surface. He moved quickly within me, as his own release climbed.

We clung to one another, hands gripping, teeth gnashing. White-knuckled I clutched him to me knowing I had given him a part of my life, and a part of my soul. I heard our magic humming in harmony, ensconced in all the beauty and unknown of the Fade. I gripped his legs, wrapping mine around them as my muscles spasmed uncontrollably. Our bodies vibrated as we finally let ourselves truly come together. I felt the green sparks travel across us both, tiny stings against my skin.

With the heave of every breath, Solas' body pressed me into the soft mattress, nearing the apex.

I yelled my enthusiasm into the crisp morning air for another time as my body heartily submitted to him.

With a howl, Solas' back arched. Finally, he had granted himself freedom from the confines that had kept us apart for so long. He pumped within me, sending me hurtling, still upwards. I thought it would never stop.

Never before had I let my magic run wild in this manner, nor my heart. Lights danced behind my eyelids as I squeezed them shut, curling around his body. Spasms continued crashing through me until something happened that had never happened before. I felt thick liquid squirt from me, covering my buttocks. Still he spilled within me, adding his seed to mine with every thrust. My body convulsed in uncontrollable ecstasy as Solas and I found our releases together.

Solas pressed his forehead to mine as his movement within me began to slow. I felt the tremors begin in his arms and shoulders as he held his weight off of me. Cradling me in his arms, he finally succumbed, collapsing on top of me. My quaking core held him throbbing within me, my legs still wound around his.

Every once in a while, I would undulate beneath him, or he would stroke me from within. My grip on him slowly loosened.

Solas hugged me tightly. "Ar lath ma, Vhenan," he whispered.

"What does that mean?" I asked.

I felt sorrow run quickly through him. "You will find out soon. I promise." He pressed a kiss to my forehead.

For many long moments, we let the aftershocks run through us as we relaxed with one another. When he started to extricate himself from within me, I pulled him back down, enjoying the feel of his weight.

"Stay," I said, reluctant to let go of him so soon.

Solas let some of his weight sink back onto me. I felt his softening co*ck throb now and then as the blood pumped back into his core. His warm breath streamed into my ear, then down my neck. I hugged him to me. Then, he conceded, letting me bear his full weight again.

I ran my fingertips up his back and neck, then down, sliding across his sweaty spine. I pressed my lips to his cheek. "I have been dreaming about that for a very long time."

He raised himself up on one elbow, cupping my face with his other hand. "How do I compare to your dreams?"

"I could never have imagined how blissful it would be." Our eyes searched one another's for several long moments before our lips met, tenderly. I felt as if I had finally caught him once again, after searching for him for so long. He was my home.

Solas gathered me in his arms, cradling my head before rolling to his back. Without breaking our kiss, he took me with him, flipping our positions. Momentarily, I languished being beneath him. I didn't know why, but I so enjoyed his weight holding me down.

I settled into the crook of his arm, one leg thrown over his. He reached down, grabbing the covers at our feet. As the cool sheet settled over my warm skin, I tucked it between my wet ass cheeks. Then, I slid my hand over the soft swell of his chest.

With a strong sweep of his arm, he pulled me into his side before resting his hand on my hip. He turned his face away from me as a sorrowful look I knew all too well resurfaced. I turned him back towards me, with just a fingertip in the dimple of his chin.

"I'm not going anywhere. Let's enjoy every minute of this, please?" I begged. There was no room for sadness here.

"I cannot fathom letting go of you again," he admitted.

"Then don't," I said.

He squeezed me in his embrace, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. We both knew, that one day he would have to.

We laid that way, in silence, falling back to sleep in each others' arms.

When I woke again, Solas was brushing his knuckles across my cheek. I could feel the sorrow left in the wake of his touch. Would we ever be able to do this without sadness between us? I swallowed the tears that threatened the corners of my eyes as I thought about leaving him to go back to the Dragon age.

"Tell me something: how did you send me back through time?" I asked.

Solas cleared his throat. "I unraveled the magic from Magister Alexius' necklace, translating the Blood magic into Fade magic, then used you as a conduit to manipulate the Temporal magic," he answered matter-of-factly.

"Used me as a conduit? How does that work?" I asked in surprise.

"Isabeau, do you truly not know? You are the key to all of this . . . time inconsistency," Solas revealed to me.

"How am I the key?" I asked, more confused than ever.

"It is hard for me to explain." He stared up at the ceiling ruminating on his next words. "Time moves through you in a way that I can . . . see somehow. I thought perhaps I could move it through you in the other direction, to save your life, if you would allow it." He turned to face me. "The golden light is time magic, Vhenan. It is your magic."

Chapter 20: Consumed

Chapter Text

My First Day with Isabeau

I am consumed.

There are moments where I am nearly paralyzed thinking about sending her away, back to the Dragon age. Waiting three thousand years to see her again feels as if it may kill me. I loved her before I even knew who she was. She has stolen my mind and my soul. And, I give her my body willingly, again and again. I can not recall a time when my heart was not hers. It has always been hers.

She is Isaqullika.

I know it as I know my name is neither Fen'Harel, nor Solas. Who was I before this . . . before Thedas? I can feel this other world, the one where our souls bonded long before ever reaching this place— this place that she has made my home. I do not know who or where I was before. But, it hardly matters now that she is here with me. All I know is that pride burns deep within me, although the sounds of my given name will not make their way past the tip of my tongue.

'The tip of my tongue' . . . we have come full circle back around to Isabeau. We were meant to find one another, through time, again and again.

I know her.

I know how she takes her coffee without asking: the color of caramel, but not quite as sweet.

The magic within her calls to me, a familiar, harmonious song that I have heard only from Isaqullika before. I remember feeling the magic of the golden woman before I had even seen her. Time stood still as I felt her reach for me. It was as if I had found something I didn't know I should have been searching for. I knew she had come for me.

It cannot be coincidence that the magic burns the same within Isabeau. I felt her reach for me before I had even seen her walk out of the Rotunda, the same way I had felt when I saw the golden woman walk into my view while I was still tethered to Mythal.

As Isabeau walked across the bridge yesterday, I thought it was Isaqullika. I thought she had returned to me. There was no disappointment, when instead I saw Isabeau. I knew she had travelled through a great distance of time to come to me. I knew her glowing left hand crackled with sparks of green lightning, unlike anything Elvhenan had ever before experienced. I knew, that together, we would harness that energy.

I do not know how it is that they are one and the same person. However, I know this truth. How will I unlock that secret?

I suppose only time will unlock such mysteries. I will continue to seek patience.

Isabeau's left hand received the glowing green mark the after touching the orb Corypheus had stolen, the orb she and I created together, with magic she already had. The crackle of the Fade lightning has always been within her. The orb did not give her the magic. It awakened the magic, magic that is now growing, threatening to break out of her.

She doesn't appear to want to use it. I have never before seen such reluctance to wield power. Even in the Inquisition, she shirks her duties at every opportunity.

I think she liked her life when it was quiet, before me. She speaks fondly of her days in the Circle, much more fondly than most other Circle mages I have met. The Circle at Ostwick truly must be a unique tower amidst the debasing behavior happening in the other Circles. The Trevelyan family was the right family to send to negotiate for mage rights, while simultaneously being the wrong family. They will all perish the day Isabeau's magic awakens. Something I might be able to stop, if I weren't too afraid of what would happen if I were to change the future— a future I have seen and lived.

What would happen, if I saved their lives? She would want me to save their lives. I have three thousand years to think about it, and I still will not know what to do in the moment when it comes. I know I have seen Isabeau's dead body in the rubble of the Temple of Sacred Ashes, even though that is not what will come to pass in this lifetime. That I cannot bear, not again, not ever again.

Even as I have cradled her breathless body in my hands, I could still feel the hum of magical energy emanating from deep within her, singing of otherworldly ancient wisdom and the immense energy of the green lighting. It is unmistakable.

She is Isaqullika. I have not thought of Isaqullika in quite a while. It feels as if time itself pulled her memory from my mind. When she left, the grief was so strong, I was not sure how I would go on alone in this world. One day, I simply did not think of her anymore, for years and years, until Isabeau stood across that bridge from me.

I realize that in the Dragon Age, it is as if I do not even know Isaqullika, as if her memory has been pulled from my mind once again in the three thousand years of Isabeau's absence. Perhaps, when Isabeau returns to me in the future, the memory of Isaqullika will return with her. I am still not sure how I have so much knowledge of the future, or why I thought that attaching my memories to Isabeau was a good idea. Perhaps, I have lived so many lifetimes with her, the outcome is destined to be the same— she comes back to stay with me in Elvhenan.

The awareness of all of these lifetimes with Isabeau feels as if Isaqullika is attempting to bring herself back to me, for Isabeau has forgotten her, too. I know she is in there. I can feel her.

Isabeau is unaware of the magicks that lie within her. She does not understand, nor heed their calls. She is human, and so young, only twenty-nine years old. However, we have lived hundreds upon hundreds of lifetimes of the Inquisition together, all the while building up a trust, and a yearning for each other.

I must teach her what lies within her before she returns to the Dragon age. She must learn it here. Otherwise, I fear she will call down the breach in the sky, and raze Thedas to the ground. Perhaps that is her destiny. Who am I to stop her? If that is what she wants to do, I will walk at her shoulder.

I am in awe of her.

I hesitate to start off with any sort of teacher/student relationship, for the obvious imbalance of power in a relationship that is already sexual in nature. And, seeing as how I do not have nor understand her power, I do not see how I can possibly be the teacher. At best, I think I can be a guide to her, showing her how to discover what she has ignored and hidden for so long.

I suppose I would still prefer that she leaves in a few days with Marnie, and the other two women that accompanied them from the Dragon age. If any of the Evanuris get wind of Isabeau, she will be in danger. I cannot keep her in a world that thirsts for her blood more than the Inquisition's foes. If Elgar'nan gets wind of her, he will not allow a mage with such power to exist. She is a threat to them, perhaps the first real threat to ending the greed of Elvhenan. Perhaps, it is time to start looking for an end.

Solas

For the second time that morning, Solas woke with Isabeau tangled in his arms and legs. One of his arms was pinned beneath her, wrapped around her back, tucking her into his embrace. His other hand was buried in her hair, cupping her head. Unmoving, he laid there cherishing this time with her, breathing her into himself.

In all of their hundreds of lifetimes together, this was the first day he had the pure pleasure of waking with her naked in his arms. Her right arm was tucked under the pillow, while her left arm rested against his side, her hand cupping his back. Solas could feel the crackle of the magic sting his shoulder blade. He felt as if he could hold her forever.

There had been many occasions when they had woken on the road together, wrapped in each other's embrace followed by a moment of joy before the awkwardness set in. They had always been drawn to one another. She often sought him out for comfort. He kept her close to make sure she hadn't shot a poor bystander with a misplaced lightning bolt.

The days of the Inquisition had not even happened yet. He would still get to relive all of those days three thousand years in the future. Solas wondered if he would always have the knowledge of what was to come. In the memories she gave him, he did not feel that he had this foresight.

The thoughts of lifetimes upon lifetimes at her side was overwhelming. He needed to touch her. Hesitantly, he brushed his knuckles ever so softly against her cheek wanting to kiss her, but not to wake her.

Would they get the opportunity to do this, once again, in the Dragon age? Would they do it again here? Or would she shrink away from him as she grieved for Cullen? He could not help but to dwell on the sorrow. The fear of losing the joy he experienced with her in his arms was too great. He never wanted to lose her.

Languid as a cat, she stretched, squeezing him between her taut arms and legs. "Good morning," she mumbled, burying her nose into the crook of his neck.

Solas smoothed her hair over the crown of her head, combing his fingers along her scalp, cradling her to him. He pressed a kiss to her brow. His lips lingered.

Isabeau sighed, melting into him. Her lips pressed a kiss to the apple of his throat.

"Nehn dhea," Solas whispered, his lips still pressed to her forehead. "Good morning, the best, in fact."

She pulled away to gaze up at him. Her eyes were mesmerizing. Emerald rings circled sparkling chartreuse irises, matching the crackling sparks of her hand. "The best?" she asked.

"The best morning of my life, by far," he admitted, sweeping a thumb across her cheek.

Isabeau's eyes searched his. "You feel like home."

Solas thought it impossible for his heart to swell any further. He had long known that Isabeau consumed his heart. But, having her here, in his arms, Solas found that he fell even further in love with her with every breath. He captured her mouth. Her lips answered his. Solas felt himself losing all sense of where he ended, and she began.

"Vhenan," he whispered as their eyes met once again.

"Vhenan," Isabeau yawned, placing the back of her hand over her mouth. "Tell me something: how did you send me back through time?"

Solas cleared his throat, cupping her cheek, gazing into her Fade green eyes. "You call me 'vhenan' for the first time, and expect me to answer a question."

"I can't count the number of times you have called me 'vhenan' and I didn't know what it meant," she told him, with a dubious eye.

"Every moment of our lives together so far, I have just wanted to profess my love for you. Holding it in has been . . . difficult," Solas admitted. Difficult? It had been repeating cycles of near torture.

Isabeau passed her thumb across his cheek, up the long edge of his ear, around the sharp corner, over his earlobe, to his jaw. The tip of her thumb settled into the divot of his chin. "Ar lath ma, Vhenan," she said for the first time, then kissed him.

Quite some time later when their lips parted, Solas answered. "I unraveled the magic from Magister Alexius' necklace, translating the blood magic into Fade magic, then used you as a conduit," he answered matter-of-factly.

She was confused. "Used me as a conduit? How does that work?"

"Isabeau, do you truly not know? You are the key to all of this . . . time inconsistency," Solas revealed to her.

As the information settled into her mind, Isabeau pushed herself out of his arms to sit up in bed. The covers pooled around her hips. She sat thinking, her bare breasts exposed to him.

Solas forced himself to keep his eyes on her face, watching as she began to sift through the previously unopened box of puzzle pieces.

"How am I the key?" Isabeau asked, more confused than ever.

"It is hard for me to explain." Solas stared up at the ceiling ruminating on his next words before sitting up next to her. "Time moves through you in a way that I can . . . see somehow. I thought perhaps I could manipulate it to save your life, if you would allow it." He turned to face her. "The golden light is time magic, Vhenan. It is your magic."

Truly, she did not know until that moment.

"I'm doing this?" Isabeau shrieked, her eyes darting to and fro. "I'm doing this." Her voice had grown much more matter-of-fact sounding.

Solas nodded. "Yes. You are the reason we are reliving the Inquisition."

Her jaw went slack as she ran through the truth in her mind. "I am." Her eyes welled up with tears. "How long have you known?"

"A long time," Solas answered. "I am powerless against you," he revealed.

"I can't—I can't be stronger than you. You're the strongest mage I have ever met!" Isabeau's voice was shrill.

"That is why I think it is imperative that you hone your magic. I know you can get yourself back home," Solas assured her.

"I'm doing this," Isabeau whispered, reaching for him. "Solas . . . ?"

No one else had ever used that name for him, except Mythal and Isaqullika. He had not given it to a soul. Yet, here she was, calling him by a name that wasn't his own, making it feel like his name for the first time.

"Do you want children?" Isabeau interrupted his thoughts, taking his breath away yet again.

"Excuse me?" Solas asked, not imagining how he could have been more startled in the moment.

Isabeau cupped her belly in her hands. "I was going to do the spell, and then I— Well, I thought I should ask. Cullen and I have agreed not to have children. I've never liked the idea of being pregnant. And, he says, 'Ours isn't a world into which children need to be brought, Isabeau.' Oh, I can hear his voice." She looked down at her hands, interlocking her fingers, squeezing one hand with the other. "But, I suspect that he's always wanted kids, and has avoided answering the question, much like you usually do: by avoiding giving me a 'yes or no' answer, and instead offering such a lengthy reply I don't even realize you haven't answered my question until after you've changed the topic."

Her dazzling green eyes met his, challenging him in a way no one else had ever dared— waiting.

"I . . . have never felt settled enough for children," he replied.

"I've never felt grown up enough to have kids," she added. "I just thought I'd ask." Cupping the gentle roundness of her belly, she whispered words of Tevene with enough mispronunciation that he worried it would not work, roughly translating to: "Allow no offspring to come of this."

"Is that what you rely on to avoid pregnancy?" he asked, trying to keep the exasperation out of his voice.

"Yeah, why?" One of her eyebrows was co*cked his direction as she mimicked the look he so often gave her.

"Your pronunciation of Ancient Tevene could use work, Inquisitor." Her eyes always lit up when he called her 'Inquisitor.' The green sparks danced. He needed to touch her. As he slid a leg to either side of her, he grabbed her ample hips in his hands, pulling her between his legs until her back pressed against his chest. With a sweep of his hand, he laid her long, raven black hair over her left shoulder, where she kept it, exposing her graceful neck. Like a cat, he rubbed his cheek against her smooth skin, breathing in the scent of elfroot that clung to her. Pressing a kiss to the juncture of her neck and shoulder, he slid his hands over hers. Together, they cupped her womb.

He whispered first in Elven, then in Common. "Banalasa thai shena. Do not let this union bear fruit."

She repeated the words he taught her. "Banalasa thai shena. That's much easier to say. I never really picked up on Ancient Tevene very well."

Banalasa thai shena.

Mythal had taught him those words. She had said the phrase every morning when he would awaken next to her, in her bed, in Elgar'nan's palace. He wore her vallaslin, then. In the mornings, he bathed her. Throughout the day, he brought her all of her meals. He dressed her, and escorted her everywhere she went as her personal bodyguard. Mythal spent little time with Elgar'nan while she was bonded to him. Most of her nighttime hours that should have been spent with her mate, she spent with Solas instead.

As a question to ask Isabeau formed in his mind, Solas' first instinct was to squash it down. For with Mythal, one did not ask questions.

"What would you have said if I had told you that I desired to have children?'" Solas permitted himself to ask.

She turned her face up to his. "Well, I guess you and I would be having a very different discussion right now."

"We can have any discussion you desire," he told her.

"All right, in that case, you didn't answer the question. Or, rather you did, but you answered the question with a vague statement. It's a 'yes or no' question, Solas." The name rolled off her tongue in a way that made him think about all of the places her tongue went. It made him feel safe and loved when she said it.

"It is not a 'yes or no' answer, Isabeau," he explained. "What would you have said if I had told you that I wanted to have children with you?"

Her mouth fell open as she blinked at him.

"See?" He waited a moment for her to draw the connection after he surprised her with his last question, realizing he was answering her question with a question, which she would be sure to throw back in his face at a later date. Much like himself, Isabeau Trevelyan liked her revenge served cold. "I have the desire to have the lifestyle that would tolerate the benefit of children. I have never felt particularly paternal, perhaps as I have no positive paternal role model to admire."

She blinked, saucer-eyed. "Nope, that's my bad. The first answer was better. I shouldn't have pushed."

He laughed, reaching for her, pulling her closer. "You are very humourous," he said, nuzzling his face into her neck, smelling the elfroot and lavender of her shampoo, wondering if he had just admitted to himself that he wanted to have children with her.

"I just don't really like kids, and pregnancy looks horrifying, not to mention the act of giving birth. I just don't want to go through any of that. I don't want kids. I feel like, maybe we . . . kinda like each other a lot. And, I know that can be a deal breaker— "

Solas kissed her cheek. "Isabeau, I want to tell you that there's no deal to be broken here. But, that's not true." She sighed heavily in his arms. He pressed his lips to her ear. "The deal that exists between us cannot be broken by anything."

"Anything means anything," she replied, her breath quivering with words that had been spoken between them on countless occasions.

"Anything means anything," he echoed.

She reached up for his face, settling her thumb in the dimple of his chin: a dimple he had always hated until she touched it. "I know."

In one swift motion she had spun around on his lap to straddle him. Her arms were thrown over his shoulders as she pressed her breasts to his chest, ravishing his mouth with hers.

***

"I know I can tell you anything. That's why I love you." A toothy grin broke out across her face as she bit the edge of her lip. Then, she turned on her heel and walked across the bridge.

The words slipped through her lips as if she had said them a thousand times before. She walked away from him, not giving him the chance not to return them. She gave them with no agenda. She had wanted him to know. He loved her so deeply. It pained him to hold it in, but she had to go home. Certainly, it would be impossible for Fen'Harel to have the time for love.

She had let the word 'love' spill so casually into the conversation. Part of the reason he loved her so, was because she gave her love so freely, and asked nothing in return save honesty. He had no choice but to love her. She was burned into his soul, a memory of his very definition of love from a life he could not recall.

Solas watched her walk across the walkway towards the Rotunda. She moved effortlessly, the way she used to during the early days, when they were still in Haven. That was both a very long time ago, and had not happened yet. Sorting out the labyrinth of time that had woven its way into his mind had used all of the time he could spare not thinking about Isabeau.

Would she believe him, when he told her he was not of this world? Would she believe him when he told her that he did not know his name, nor from whence he came? Did he really believe he had lived thousands of years in this world waiting to see her again, instead of looking for answers to his own existence? Did she believe him when he told her that the Elvhen called him Fen'Harel?

Ultimately, he knew the answers no longer mattered. If they lead him away from her, he would not follow. He would not return to whatever former life existed for him before he awoke in the body of this elf named Solas. He would stay. He would be Fen'Harel; and, he would be Solas; and, he would be hers.

Solas was grateful that she had told him she loved him, then walked away. He ached not saying it back to her. But, if he told her that he loved her, he thought she would never return to the Dragon age. He knew she could not stay here. She did not belong here. He would see her again in three thousand years. Isabeau was worth the wait.

Yesterday, Solas had been afraid to hope. He had been certain that Isabeau would spurn him, yearning to get back home as fast as possible. As he walked to attempt to clear his mind, he had some time to sift through the memories he had received yesterday the first time he had touched her.

First and foremost, he knew that he had loved her through every moment of every lifetime. In that moment, he realized how unhealthy it may be to live his life for her. However, he knew no other way to live.

Even if Isabeau never looked upon him again, he would still want to do everything in his power to be assured of her safety. If anything happened to her, his life felt forfeit. She burned in his core so intensely, he could hardly feel anything else.

Everything else he had ever felt had been suffering, guilt, shame, anger, vengefulness. He didn't like feeling any of those things. But, he loved everything about Isabeau, even though her happiness with Cullen meant his own heartache.

He had caught up with her just before she reached for the door handle of the Rotunda with her glowing left hand. He threaded his fingers through hers, relishing the crackle of the green sparks on his skin. Solas pulled her back into his embrace as he nestled his face into her elfroot and lavender scented hair.

Isabeau sighed in his arms, closing her eyes as she let her head fall to the side. Solas pressed his lips to her neck.

"I would do anything for you," he said, softly. He felt her tense as she choked on her emotions. "Garahnen tana garahnen."

"Anything means anything?" she asked, looking up at him.

"It translates to 'all things indicates all things,'" he told her.

"Garahnen tana garahnen," she repeated. "Thank you for teaching me." Isabeau looked over her shoulder at him.

Solas leaned down, taking her lips with his.