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Debauchery in the Fade

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The garden in the Fade seemed to bloom more with every step she took, the flowers like none she had ever seen before. They seemed to twist and shift before her eyes, the colors a kaleidoscope, never remaining the same for more than a moment.  Trees waved gently in a breeze that brushed lightly against her skin, picking up the skirt of her thin white dress. Evelyn smiled lightly as a small butterfly landed on her finger, its wings brilliant rotating shades of blue, green, and purple. The sky itself was lit in brilliant colors, dancing amongst soft clouds as birds chirped and raced playfully overhead.

               It was not often she intentionally stumbled into someone else’s dreams in Skyhold. Most nights, she spent the Fade wandering, seeking out spirits to question, trying to keep demons from straying too close, or letting herself sift through the ancient memories that had accumulated in a place as old as Skyhold. Sometimes, she’d let the spirits guide her into a peaceful dream, something kind and familiar, but other times nightmares would plague her, her restless sleep interrupted by the burning pain of the Anchor.

               The Garden had seemed to materialize out of nowhere. A spirit of compassion had led her to this place, trailing through the Fade as wisps brushed against her face and legs. Now the spirit was gone, but this place was what she assumed it had wanted her to see. As she continued to wander forward, she could see a structure, rising in the distance. At first, she believed it to be the Black City, ever present and always visible from anywhere in the Fade, but no, the spires and the color were all wrong. The building, like the flowers, the sky, and everything else here shifted between colors, its lines blurry as things often were in the Fade. It reminded her of the Ancient Elven temples she would find in the Dales, but this was far more grandiose and magnificent than any of them, even if its size was dwarfed by them.

               She wondered if the dreamer she sought wandered the halls of the temple.

               No, you can’t. Dreams are private, you should not intrude.

               A dark, rich voice in the edge of her consciousness laughed. There is only harm if you are seen.

               Evelyn grit her teeth. Listening to him was never a good idea, but her curiosity had been piqued. Against her better judgment, she began to climb the steps, passing through a small courtyard somehow even more beautiful than the one outside the temple’s walls. A fountain sat in the center, wolf statues guarding the four corners of the square garden, a single large one directly behind the fountain. She wondered if they were related to Fen’Harel, the architecture would suggest the place was elven. But why would any elf worship Fen’Harel?

Her fingers dipped into the cool waters of the fountain’s pool, small fish drifting past, some gently nibbling in curiosity. It was quiet here, beautiful. Then she heard a sound, her ears perking up as a yelp broke through the peace of the garden. The fog over her eyes seemed to clear, the yelp followed by a shout, then a deep, rumbling moan.


 

               Solas hadn’t meant it like this. He didn’t mean to indulge himself in this… this… fantasy. When he’d first seen her, chained to a wall bellow the Chantry in Haven, he had not expected the small, weak mortal elven girl from this age to survive his mark. The power coursing through her would most certainly consume her, breaking her apart from the inside out, fading until there was nothing left. But she hadn’t. She’d been strong and survived. He remembered the blue of her eyes, so beautiful and unsuspecting as she’d smile and asked him questions about himself. The frown and slight furrow of her eyebrows as she declared her intentions to shield him should his apostasy put him in danger from others. He needed no protection, even weak as he was, but the sentiment and ferocity behind the words sent a flutter through his heart he dared not acknowledge. Over the weeks they traveled the Hinterlands, it became harder to deny, until even the spirits in the Fade began to twist their shape to hers, softly whispering to him promises he knew he could not keep. His desire, his ever present need for her cracked his so perfectly formed facade, until every brush of her fingers, every soft smile, every look from her eyes sent a jolt through his spine and he wanted nothing more than to grab her hips and show her in every way how she mattered to him. How much power she wielded over him and she didn’t even know it.

               He’d shown her his dream in Haven, and it was then he truly realized how different she was from the others. She walked the Fade as he did, revisiting ancient memories, talking to spirits, oh how he had wanted to take her there, on those steps. He’d settled for the soft press of her lips against his, her warm body flush and pressed close to him, her hands running over his back and up his chest. With just a kiss, she’d taken the air from his lungs and made him realize all over again how dangerous she was. For a moment, he could imagine giving up everything, letting Fen’Harel die so she could live, they could live in this world she loved, seeing the sun warm her cheeks and the breeze blow through her hair. He’d kiss her, worship her however he could, love her however she wanted him to, leave her shuddering and gasping his name until all she could feel was pleasure. He wanted to know what she’d look like then, flushed and bare before him, holding him in her arms as he whispered everything he loved about her, unburdening every secret he’d kept locked away for so long. 

   ~~           

               His temple. A building long since destroyed by war and time was where he found her. He let himself immerse himself in the fantasy of the dream, reality a mere memory behind him. His feet made no noise as he stalked the garden, his dark brown dreads tied behind him in threads of gold, the small wolf skull a crown on his head. He wore the loose, flowing robes of his time, cinched at his waist in a leather belt, silver twining through. He had come for her, a wolf stalking his prey.

               He found her by the pool, her fingers gliding through the cool water aimlessly, a thin white dress fluttering softly in the breeze. Her long, beautiful dark brown hair cascaded down her back, and he pushed away a soft lock that had fallen into her face. She looked up, turquoise blue meeting his own stormy grey and she smiled.

               “Welcome back.” She stood and curtsied politely, a soft smile playing on the corner of her lips.

A gift from Dirthamen, the most beautiful virgin among them. When he had first seen her, she’d been small and afraid, but her beauty was undeniable. But he hadn’t touched her. He’d refused to do so. He knew the slight Dirthamen had been giving him, what he intended. If he took her, he’d be seen as a hypocrite to all he had begun to fight for. He’d treated her as best he could, and slowly, she’d grown accustomed to him. Soon familiarity bled into friendship which bled into love and only then, when she’d taken his hand and placed it between her thighs had he taken her. She was free.

               This isn’t real. A voice told him as he allowed himself to smile back.

               “Solas.” His name came out in a whisper, his breath catching in his throat as she pushed the straps of her gown down her shoulders, the white fabric pooling at her feet. Underneath she was perfect, and he moved to kiss her, threading his fingers through her hair and pulling as his mouth captured her own. His tongue pushed along the seam of her mouth and she opened it invitingly, gripping his shoulders and leaning into him. He kissed her until he couldn’t breathe, pressing her to him feeling the flush of her warm body against his chest. He grazed his teeth against her lip and she moaned quietly for him and it’s suddenly all too much and he needed her now.

               She seemed to understand and so she untangled herself and turned, bracing her arms against the statue of the wolf. She threw her hair over her shoulder and he could feel himself harden at her every motion, the bareness of her skin and the shifting of her hips. What little clothes he had melted away as he joined her, grabbing her hips from behind as she canted towards his own, pressing the seam of her ass against his cock. He groaned, bending over her, nipping at the tip of her ear with his teeth. A pleasant noise escaped her throat quickly replaced by a gasp as his finger gently began to trace the seam of her cunt.

               His mouth moved down her neck to her shoulder blades as his finger traced the inside of her lips, already finding her slick with want. She gasped again as he kissed the small of her back until he was kneeling behind her. His tongue lapped greedily at her wet heat as her gasps and moans filled the garden, all for his ears alone to hear. He used his fingers to spread her wider for him as she shifted her legs, and she let out a shout as his tongue suddenly delved within her. Her thighs were shaking the first time she came, a sudden cry as she threw her head back and he smirked. He prolonged the moment, stretching it out for what must have felt like an eternity as he licked his mouth clean, standing up and watching her quiver and shake, leaning her head forward, her cheeks red as she braced herself against the statue.

She barely had time to come down from her high before he sheathed himself within her with one quick thrust. She made a yelp in surprise that quickly turned to a loud moan as she bore down on him. He gripped her hips tightly, giving her a moment to adjust and allowing her to reaffirm her grip on the edge of the statue before he thrusted in again, slower this time, setting a steady and even pace. Her hips jerked back towards him, meeting his thrusts and keeping their rhythm for a while.

“Solas.” His name came out as whine, his response a rough snap of his hips that left her moaning. From there he lost all control of himself, his hands digging into the flesh of her thighs to keep her steady until he found the angle that ripped a cry from her throat without fail. A few more rough thrusts of his hips and she came undone around him, the muscles of her cunt rippling and clenching but he doesn’t let her come down quite yet. His magic filled the air around them, twisting and trailing over every sensitive part of her body, magnifying everything she felt as it traced behind her ears, down her neck, her belly, in between her thighs, swirling over the sensitive nub until he felt her clench around him once more as she shuddered, her head thrown back as she screamed his name.

               She was panting when he pulled away from her, sweat glistening on her flush skin. He was still unbelievably hard, but he was not ready yet. Time demanded he wake up eventually, every moment would count. He wanted her, to have every expression she would make etched into his mind, to feel her in every way he could before reality drew him back.

 Her breaths came out in ragged gasps as he eased her away from the statue, lifting her gently so her head rested on his shoulder.

               Her eyes glanced innocently up to his. He placed a chaste kiss to her forehead as she closed her eyes and sighed in content.

               “You are so beautiful.” He whispered, watching her steady even breathes as she opened her eyes to stare into his own once more.

               Her soft hand reached up to glide against his cheek as he began to walk towards the bedchamber, a wicked smile forming on his lips.


 

               Heat flooded through Evelyn’s body as she stayed silent and motionless outside the bedchamber in… wherever this was. She hadn’t meant to come this far, to invade… to see… this she was not supposed to see.

               When she’d heard the shouts, the cries, and the moans, she knew immediately that whoever’s dream this is, it was far more intimate than she should ever be audience to. When she’d turned her head towards the source, he’d chuckled and she’d grit her teeth even harder.

               “Ass.” She’d hissed to no one, and he hadn’t replied, but she knew he’d heard.

               Some unexplainable force had caused her to stand, another had caused her legs to move, and the final had led her in the direction of the sounds of ecstasy being ripped from whoever she would find at the end of the long, shinning, white hallway. She wondered which of Skyhold’s inhabitants would dream something like this so vividly, but the voice in her head told her exactly who she would find.

               “I shouldn’t do this to him.” She whispered to herself.

               “But you will anyway.” He chuckled again.

               “Shut up.” She ground her teeth together and soldiered on as another loud moan drifted down the halls. She wondered who he’d imagine in his arms, a pang of jealousy seizing her heart.

After his… dissuasion after their kiss in the Fade, Evelyn still couldn’t stop herself from wanting him. She’d listen intently as they discussed magic, or the Fade, or Corypheus, truly some days she asked questions just so she could hear his voice. He seemed amicable enough, his arms behind his back, looking down at her as his eyes lit up, imparting his wisdom and stories to a captive enough audience. Sometimes their conversations would turn to arguments if the course took them to Tevinter or history and the like, but it was still better than the few days of silence and one word answers he’d given her in the beginning.

 She’d stare wishfully down at him from her perch in the library, watching the way he frowned, bent over his cluttered desk filled with books, papers, and small artifacts he studied. Sometimes, when her mind wandered, she wondered what he would do if she went down and kissed him. He’d tried to hide it in the Fade, but she’d felt his hardness press against her as he slipped a leg between her thighs, his tongue delving into her mouth, tasting her. Would he press her underneath him, letting her legs wrap around his waist as he ground into her, letting her watch his face twist in desire, or would he bend her over his desk, take her from behind, a fistful of her hair drawing her head back and baring her neck for him to bite and mark as he pleased? The thought always sent a wave of heat through her, pooling in her lower belly but all she had were day dreams and fantasies. Not to mention Josie’s mortification (if they actually did) at the Inquisitor and an elven apostate fornicating in the rotunda of Skyhold for all to see and hear.

When they went exploring, an attack or treacherous terrain might leave her cut and bruised. At camp later in those nights, Solas’s healing magic would seal her wounds, a calming warmth making her wonder if there was more he could do with his magic. Old trashy novels hidden in her father’s library by her mother told her the use of magic in such a manner was possible…. And she wondered if Solas knew how to do that too. Tendrils of his will snaking around her body to touch where his hands could not, runes of ice and fire creating sensations that would send her gasping and crying in ecstasy.

               Sweet Maker, she wanted Solas, not that he would ever care. He made it very clear, no matter his reactions, that they could not be. Why, he never specified but it wasn’t her business to pry.

               He could never know what she was doing.

               She could see Solas, or whom she assumed to be Solas. He was above a woman, the source she now realized of the moans and yelps she’d been hearing. Her arms were bound above her in magic, flexing and twisting occasionally against the restraints as Solas kissed his way down her body. She couldn’t see her face, Solas’s bare body hiding it from view. She should look away, this was his dream, not hers, but she couldn’t as the flush crept up her neck to color her cheeks red. He was whispering in Elven to the woman, too low for Evelyn to hear as she remained in her hiding place behind the door. She needed to leave but she just couldn’t look away.


 

               Solas laved at Evelyn’s neck, biting and sucking his way down, occasionally catching a bit of skin and tugging ever so gently as she gasped and moaned, her hips bucking up, trying to find something to grind against to sate her aching need. He’d tied her hands above her head with magic, her eyes clouded by it as well. It heightened everything she felt, not knowing where his hands would go or what he would. His mouth trailed lower, taking one of her dark, pebbled nipples into his mouth and she gasped, her back arching to meet his mouth ever so slightly. He suckled at her breast as a babe might as she bucked once more against her restraints, trying to find some kind of friction. Her legs squeezed shut trying to build up some kind of pressure, but Solas only chuckled darkly.

               “We can’t be having that, Vhenan.” He pulled away from her breast, giving her nipple a sudden sharp pinch from his fingers causing her to let out a yelp. Solas moved farther down, resting his knees on the soft bed. He watched her briefly, squirming and bare, the marks he’d left on her neck and collarbone claiming her as his, the bruises on her hips from their earlier coupling in the yard. Her breathing was heavy, her chest rising and falling. She couldn’t feel him anymore he knew, only hear his breathing and the slight sink in the mattress at the edge of the bed where he sat watching her. She knew without needing to be told what he wanted her to do. Still panting and with a flush rising to her cheeks, she spread her legs wide for him, her glistening, swollen cunt pulsating slightly in anticipation as to what he would do next.

               “Good girl.” He hummed, a snap of his fingers forcing her feet and legs to remain in place. She didn’t try and fight the restraints, she never did, but now her breaths were coming out longer as she arched her back a little.

               Solas grinned at the sight, bending in between her spread legs, letting his warm breath ghost over the swollen, sensitive flesh. Evelyn squirmed again, this time letting out a plea.

               “Solas… please.”

               “Hmmm, please what?” he asked, kissing the insides of her thighs but refusing to give her what she truly wanted.

               “Solas.” This time it was intentional. The throaty groan he let out at the sound of his name caused him to shut his eyes and bite down gently on her inner thigh. He shouldn’t indulge her now, he should make her beg, but when she said his name like that, a part of him came undone. The part that would do whatever she asked, the part that would die for her if need be.

               But she’s not real. His consciousness decided to subtly remind him. The real her is sleeping, somewhere else in the Fade. This isn’t her, an imitation, a copy.

               He opened his eyes but she was gone. The bed was empty except for him, kneeling at its edge. It was as if she had never been there at all.

The spirit drifted from behind the curtain blowing gently in the wind. The dream began to fade; his hair disappeared until his head was smooth once more, the walls of his temple crumbling with time, vines growing up the walls and weeds sprouting through cracks in the floor. He watched the ceiling crumble, the paint from his murals chipping from the wall until the paintings were grotesque and horrific. Time caught up again, and it was all wrong. But he was still there, standing in the middle of it all, in his woolen tunic and his green leg wraps, the wolf jawbone necklace tied against his throat.  

               You can still have her. It said, tilting its head, listening for words he could not hear.

 Warm bodies pressed together, soft lips, hearts beating. Cool breezes, soft smiles, knowing, seeing, loving, what did I do wrong?  

And then she was there. Bright turquoise eyes, that warm smile on her face. Her dark brown hair braided and tied as she always had it, but her body was pure light, reflective of the spirit trying to imitate it. Some form of compassion he supposed, his breath hitching in his throat before she disappeared.

Her voice echoed around him from nowhere and everywhere at once, burning into his mind even when he awoke and stared at the cobwebs forming in the stone ceiling of his bedroom in Skyhold.

You wouldn’t have to have a dream. She’d be real.

Chapter Text

She awoke that morning still wet and wanting, her cheeks red with blush at what she had seen. Solas… had dreams… where he… where she…

               It was all too much, there was no possibility he actually felt like that… wanted to do that to her. It had to be a demon trying to tempt her… yes, that was it. A desire demon, showing her what she wanted.

               She placed a hand over her heart, trying to calm her breathing, something, anything to calm the blood coursing through her veins, the heat and slick between her thighs.

               In the end, she’d pulled her nightdress up to her stomach and with a quick glance around her room, praying to the Maker that no one would barge in unexpectedly, spread her legs and tentatively traced a finger up her slit to find herself obscenely wet. Her fingers worked slowly, tracing up and down and making slow passes over her clit, gathering her slick on her finger tips, making a few swirls until she slowly dipped two fingers into her wet opening. She threw her head back against the pillow and moaned, wondering how Solas’s fingers would feel inside her. They were larger than her own, calloused from years of holding a staff. Would they be slow and explorative, tracing against her inner walls and curling against the spot that turned her vision white or would he be tantalizing her until she was begging him to push her over the edge?

               She took up a brutal pace as she hoped he would, curling her fingers and using her thumb to make rough, hard passes over her clit. The heat continued to build in her lower belly until she couldn’t bear it. With one final curl of her fingers, she was over the edge, Solas’s name ripped from her throat as she threw her head back against the pillows, squeezing her eyes shut as her orgasm washed over her, her cunt clenching around her fingers.

               She lay there for a second, her heart beating out of her chest, her breath coming in quick, rapid breaths. She wondered what would happen if Solas saw her like this, disheveled, hair fanned out behind her with her nightdress pulled up to her stomach, fingers buried in her cunt, slick and pulsating as she screamed his name. If anyone else in Skyhold discovered her like this she’d be mortified.

               With a sigh, Evelyn pulled out her fingers, wiping them on the sheets as she pulled her nightdress back over herself. Maker’s breath, did Solas realize what he was doing to her? Not even Sebastian had left her this wet and wanting without at least touching her first, she thought as she swung her legs over the side of the bed and began preparing herself for a busy day.


             Solas watched the Inquisitor make her daily rounds around Skyhold that day; traveling from the war room to the tavern to wherever else she was needed. But something struck him as odd; she seemed to be actively avoiding the rotunda, and more importantly, she seemed to be actively avoiding him. He’d attempted to ascertain why, approaching her as she made her way up the stairs to Leliana’s perch but she’d jumped as if he’d come up on her unexpectedly. He’d risen his eyebrow as her face had gone bright red.

               “I’m sorry, Solas, but Leliana needs me urgently.” She’d said, bowing her head and hurrying up the stairs before he’d even been able to get a word out. Only by the time he sat down when the sun had set, candles his only source of light as the shuffle of researchers and agents disappeared above him, did he get his answer.

               “Hot, too hot, shouldn’t have seen this. He wants, wishes, but denies. Too much, it hurts, embarrassed, can’t look at him.”

               Solas sighed, not surprised by Cole’s appearance. Whenever something bothered the Inquisitor, Cole usually came to him first.

               “You help the hurt” had been Cole’s reasoning. He couldn’t help it, it was within his nature to seek out whatever eased the Inquisitor’s pain, usually resulting in an unscheduled visit to Solas.

               “What troubles the Inquisitor?” Solas asked, standing from his chair and approaching the compassionate spirit, his hands behind his back.

               “She’s afraid. She shouldn’t have looked, she went too far, but she couldn’t stop.”

               Solas furrowed his eyebrows. Had he lured her somewhere, forced her to bend to his will? Tied her deeper to him somewhere in the Fade? The thought made his stomach lurch. He knew he visited her there, brought her to places sacred to him that had been lost by the Veil’s sundering, but he would’ve felt something change, he hadn’t become that dull, had he?

               “Hot skin, soft breaths, whispered words. Heart flutters, he wants me, but he doesn’t hold on.”

               Suddenly he stopped. No, she couldn’t have…

               But she could. She walked the Fade as he did, it wouldn’t be hard to stumble into his dream. When he was with her, no not her, his dream of her, he let his guard down. Then she… had she…

               The sudden reality of his mistake, the foolishness of his indulgence hit him like a druffalo. He let out an angry snort of air, more at himself than her.

               “Will you help the hurt stop?” Cole asked innocently, shifting from one foot to the other. He couldn’t possibly comprehend what he was asking. If he indulged Evelyn, if he gave into to what they both wanted, everything he’d planned meticulously would be at risk. He remembered his dream, her smiles, her turquoise eyes, the way she laid her head against his shoulder. He had a chance for that to be real, to feel her like that and know it was more than a fantasy. He would love her and worship her until the end of her days, he’d fight every moment she took a breath to take away her pain. He wouldn’t be able to remake this world if it meant taking her from it first.

               He clenched and unclenched his fists, turning away from Cole. And so he took a deep breath, and made a decision.


 

               She hadn’t wandered the Fade tonight as she normally did. She didn’t dream of Solas either. She couldn’t. If she did, she wouldn’t be able to bear his presence. His cornering of her in the rotunda had almost sent her opening a Fade rift under herself to hide from his eyes with all she knew.

               How it ended up with her pinned under Sebastian didn’t surprise her in the least.  Sebastian… she’d loved him, more than he could ever truly know. He had been the one to… despoil her as it were. She wondered if some of her more… dramatic likes stemmed from him. He’d been far more experienced than her virginal self, his hands knowing just the spots to test her. His fingers had been rough and calloused from years of drawing his bow string taught, giving her the same treatment of drawing her until she’d feared she’d snap. But he’d never let her. He’d hold her, kiss her, whisper sweet nothings afterwards until she fell asleep and when she awoke he’d always be there to greet her to the new morning.

               It was no surprise in her pain over Solas she’d turn to dreaming of him. Sebastian was safe, familiar, comfortable. In the morning it would pain her to remember all the hurt she caused him, but tonight she would allow herself this indulgence, just once.

               “Evelyn.” Sebastian’s Starkhaven accent sent a wave of heat through her. He trailed his mouth down her neck, his strong, muscled arms framing the sides of her body. He pulled back, his features illuminated by the moonlight pouring through the window. The softness of his blue eyes as they studied her made her instinctively reach her hand up to trace the lines of his cheek, his jaw, down his neck. He sighed, closing his eyes and resting against her hand as it returned to his cheek.

               When he opened them again, a wicked glint shone as he smiled down at her. “Turn over for me, lass.” He drawled and she complied without question. The bed shifted as he knelt behind her, a hand gently coming between her shoulder blades, pushing her head and upper back into the soft sheets, leaving her ass stuck in the air. Sebastian hummed happily as Evelyn took a deep breath.

               “Perfect.” Sebastian muttered, his fingers digging into her thighs as he pulled her closer until she could feel his hot breath on the sensitive flesh of her cunt.

               She sucked in a gasp and rocked back against Sebastian as he slid his tongue up her slit, a flood of wetness coating his lips. Somewhere in between rutting against his face, a finger slipped into the equation, sinking deep into her and she almost wailed. Then all of a sudden the feeling of him disappeared completely, a rush of fear running through her.

               A demon? Her mind raced as she attempted to twist her head, only to find a hand pushing her face back into the pillows. There was definitely someone else there, and it wasn’t Sebastian.

               Her breath quickened in fear as whoever it was covered her eyes, drawing her back into his chest. The man was bare, she could feel his arousal pressing against her back as he held her there. She began to squirm and fight against her faceless captor, only to find herself unable to move, magic snaking around her body to hold her still against whoever it was. True fear began to set in, unable to shift or move and something seemed to make her unable to open her mouth to scream, although here in the Fade it would do her no good.

               “I thought after last night you would understand who you belonged to.” the voice spoke to her in Elven, but the sound… that voice it was familiar.

               The magic that had bound her mouth loosened, the figure behind her waiting for a response. “I belong to no one.” She spat back in elven, her eyes still clouded.

               The voice chuckled darkly. “Oh but you do.” His mouth ghosted over her neck, sharp teeth nipping gently at the flesh. “You want to.”

               She sucked in a breath, suddenly forgetting her predicament as a hand slid over her breast, plucking at a nipple, then down further towards where she wanted one most, only to find it stop, resting on her thigh. She tried to squirm only to find she was still bound. Then the realization dawned on her.

               “Solas.” She let his name fall from her lips in a soft breath. She felt him stiffen suddenly, the arm on her thigh gripping at the soft flesh until she was afraid it would leave bruises.

               “You cannot imagine the torture you’ve put me through.” His voice was low and came out more as a growl as he nipped at the tip of her ear.

He removed his hand from her eyes. She opened them tentatively, afraid for a moment she would find a desire demon staring back, it’s twisted and demonic features cutting into her skin as it gripped her. She did not expect to find herself in Skyhold’s main hall, sitting on her throne. The large room was empty, and yet fire still burned in the sconces, the tables for dignitaries still set and prepared for a meal that would never come.

She didn’t turn her head to look at Solas as his arm came around to grip her hip and pull her back against him. “How many ways I imagined I would fuck you. Bend you, break you.” Evelyn gasped as he traced her ear with his tongue. His hand resting on her thigh gently pried her leg open, and upon finding her magical bonds weakened, continued to rest of the way. Solas’s hand dipped into her wet heat, her thighs already slick with her arousal.

               “Look at you.” He hissed into her ear, holding up his fingers, glistening in the moonlight for her to see. “All this, for another man. I thought you wanted me?”

               “I do.” Evelyn’s chest was rising and falling rapidly as he began long, slow, tantalizing strokes from her opening to her clit. “I have since Haven.”

               “Are you certain?” Solas, or what she supposed she was imaging was Solas queried, kissing the back of her neck. She closed her eyes and bit her lip, trying to keep herself from moaning. She almost forgot how to speak as he continued his ministrations, even gently rubbing against his palm to try and create more friction. She whimpered when all that did was slow his pace, his fingers now intentionally missing her clit.   “Are you sure you don’t want him?” He bit down hard against her neck and she gasped, her eyes flying open to find Sebastian standing before her.

“Would you rather he pleasure you than me?” She bucked her hips suddenly at the loss of pressure between her thighs as Solas’s fingers withdrew. Her thighs instinctively came together, trying to do anything to sate the ache between them, her eyes squeezing shut, her head leaning back into the crook of Solas’s neck.

 “Now, now, we can’t be having that, can we?” Solas chuckled, a noise deep and low in his throat that sent a fresh wave of wetness to coat her thighs. Damn it all, even if it was a demon, her head was already a halfway house for an ancient elven mage who would probably not take kindly to sharing his room. But it wasn’t a demon she thought as his magic twisted through the air once more, traveling lower as it spread her legs wide. No demon could imitate the feel of his magic. She tried to fight against her new magical restraints, but found not only could she not move her spread legs, but her arms refused to cooperate, instead tied to the armrests of her throne.

She kept her eyes squeezed shut. She knew what would come next but some part of her didn’t want to see herself; legs spread, her thighs coated with her own arousal, her cunt red and swollen, displayed for Solas and the man she had once loved. An imitation but sometimes that didn’t matter.

“Open your eyes.” Solas whispered into her ear, his breath ghosting over her neck. “I want you to watch.”

Cautiously, Evelyn did as he asked. Sebastian knelt in front of her, blue eyes watching her own. Without a word, he moved between her legs, kissing gently against the insides of her thighs. She whimpered at that, watching him, his eyes occasionally looking up to meet hers as he worked closer to where she needed him most. His progress was slow, tantalizing so. He nipped gently at the crease between her thigh and her cunt until finally dragging his tongue between her swollen folds.

Evelyn let out a gasp as Sebastian worked his tongue between her legs, almost forgetting Solas sitting behind her until his hands snaked up her sides, gently brushing against her ribs until he reached her breasts, cupping them gently. Without warning, he flicked his thumbs against her pebbled nipples and she let out a scream, her back arching. Solas chuckled again, flicking and pinching her nipples as Sebastian continued to lap hungrily at her cunt. But Sebastian was still too slow, Solas’s touches still not hard enough.

“What would they think of you, Herald of Andraste?” Solas’s mouth once more trailed down her neck, his mouth possessive against her skin.

“What a sight you would make.” And suddenly the hall was filled with people. Dignitaries from Ferelden and Orlais, soliders, recruits, spies, all watching, eyes trained on her. Some gasped, cheeks turning red, others whispered comments she could not hear. Blood was pounding through her ears, but Solas’s touches and Sebastian’s continued lapping of her cunt made it impossible for her to stop her legs from shaking or short gasps and loud moans coming from her throat.

One of Solas’s hands left her breast to trail down her stomach and quickly found her swollen clit as Sebastian’s tongue worked its way into her opening. Solas’s hand began to trace a rune against it as Sebastian’s tongue lapped greedily against her inner walls. Suddenly the rune activated, a flash of magic so cold it burned against her clit, a scream ripping through her throat as her climax washed over her. The hall suddenly cleared, Sebastian disappearing as her orgasm caused her now empty cunt to ripple and clench around nothing; and it was almost unbearable.

Her breaths were ragged and short as she slumped against Solas’s shoulder, her chest heaving. Solas sighed, tracing his fingers over her spent body, the warmth of the magic seeping through her skin to settle in her very bones. She could feeling it massage her aching muscles, the binds around her arms and holding her legs  disappearing allowing her to rest against his warm chest. She could hear the rapid beating of his heart, the steady even breaths as he allowed her a moment of relaxation. Her night was far from over she knew. As if reading her mind, Solas traced his finger lazily over her collarbone and up her neck, tilting her chin up and gently coaxing her head back so she could stare up into his face.

For the first time that night, Evelyn got a good look at Solas. He was the same as she remembered: pale, stormy grey eyes, a light dusting of freckles, full lips, his cleft chin, and the small scar in between his eyebrows. He smiled softly down at her, tracing her jaw with his finger.

“Ma vhenan.”


 

               Her turquoise blue eyes watched his own as he gently traced the line of her jaw. Her throat, already purpling with the marks he’d left her, her body flush and her hair disheveled because of what he had done. He indulged her in her sin, her madness until she couldn’t breathe, watched her come undone as he had more times than he could count in his fantasies.

               And it was real. He thought, tilting her head to capture her lips in his. He memorized every expression she made, the feeling of her body pressed against his, the softness of her lips, searing it into his memory for when the time came to light the world on fire to rebuild his own, when he would walk the Dinan’shiral so when he fell into oblivion when his work was done he could remember her in peace.

Ma’vhenan. Ma sa’lath.

He let the magical bindings that held her fall away, allowing her to adjust her position until she was straddling his hips. His hands snaked around her bare waist, pressing her closer to him. He could feel the slick still on her thighs, his cock twitching at the thought of sheathing himself in her warmth.

               She looked down at him now, her hands gently cupping his cheeks as she studied his face. Her brown hair flowed over her shoulders, forming a curtain framing her face as her eyes roamed over him. He felt frozen under her scrutiny, all his earlier strength fading under her gaze. She was perfect.

               Ar lath ma. He was tempted to say it. She thought he wasn’t real, it would be a comfort to her, a softness she expected. But it was true. He loved her, without meaning to she’d imbedded herself into his soul until it hurt to breathe without her. I should not. I cannot. Please…

               He did not know what he was pleading for. He didn’t want to let her go, not here, not like this, he needed her, but he couldn’t hold on, an end would have to come. Every moment like this and he dared to dream of letting it all go.

Then she leaned forward and pressed her soft lips to his own and everything in his mind scattered like dead leaves in the wind. Why couldn’t she have been born in his time; he would have stretched this moment out into eternity, her in his arms like this. They wouldn’t have worried about anything, no Corypheus, no Inquisition, the destruction of her world, none of that, it would be just them. He would have her all to himself to love her as she deserved in a place where no pain could befall her. He would never have to leave her.  

               Her tongue slipped past his lips, delving into his mouth and he breathed her in, his hands tracing up her back and holding her to him.  She smelled like the vanilla soaps he knew she loved, even here in the Fade. Real, she’s real.

One of the hands on his face slipped down his neck, skimming lower to trace his collar bone. It was soft and gentle, unused to years of hard labor her upbringing had granted her. It rested momentarily on his chest before trailing lower over his abdomen then lightly ghosting over his cock. He broke the kiss suddenly at the feeling of her hand on him, his mouth opening in a silent gasp.

               She didn’t say a word as he squeezed his eyes shut, resting his forehead against her shoulder as she traced the length of him with her finger before gripping him firmly and giving a few experimental strokes. He felt her shift off him as she let go, meeting her eyes as she slid off his lap until she was kneeling in front of him. Her hand was still on him as she leaned forward, her warm breath sending a shiver down his spine at its contact with the head of his cock.

               He couldn’t say he’d never imagined this either, her kneeling in front of him, taking him in her mouth as far as she could, fingers raking through her hair as he thrust into her mouth, the ripples of her throat as she choked herself on his cock. She had many times in his dreams, but this was different, she was different, she was real.

               She licked up his length, giving his head light kisses as he threaded his fingers through her hair. How many nights would he now awake from, hard and wanting, coming back to this memory as he gripped his cock and spilled into his own hand? “Vhenan…” She seemed to take that as her que, her mouth wrapping around him and taking him deep.

               Heat flooded his body all at once, his fingers digging into her skull as he threw his head back and let out a low moan. Evelyn hummed in appreciation against him as she bobbed on his cock, her tongue tracing its way up and down his length slowly with care. His control faltered, his breath coming out in ragged gasps as he fought the urge to buck into her mouth, settling for grabbing a fistful of hair and pulling. She moaned around him as she began to suck harder, taking him deeper with each bob of her head.

The heat between her legs was building with every drag of her mouth, but she resisted the urge to touch herself, he could tell, could smell her arousal leaking between her thighs. In one single moment of clarity, he let his magic twist around them again, trailing over her body to pluck at her nipples, other tendrils of his will snaking down her belly, slipping into her wet heat.

Evelyn threw her head back, letting his cock slip from her mouth with an obscene pop as she let out a cry. The magic continued to twist and curl within her, filling her and stroking every sensitive place, working her open for him later. Solas pushed her head gently back towards his cock and she took him in mouth once more, a new urgency overtaking her as she hollowed her cheeks and sucked him greedily. She moaned against his cock, the pace of his magic in tandem with the bob of her head. His magic lashed her clit with fire and ice, and she squeezed her eyes shut, her yelps and moans stifled by his cock in her mouth. Another tendril slipped its way from her cunt, teasing at her tighter entrance. She jerked up suddenly, his cock once more slipping from her mouth as she bit her lip, closing her eyes and resting her forehead against his thigh. Her legs were shaking as she squeezed her thighs together, taking deep breaths as the tendril slowly worked its way into her ass.

 He couldn’t imagine she’d ever felt something like this before. She was trying to rock against something physical, something to give her more pressure, make it rougher, faster. It took all his self-control not to grant her release, to see her coming again and again in front of him from his magic alone. But he denied her, slowing down or jerking away, leaving her whimpering in displeasure. He leaned forward, gently placing a hand on her cheek as her eyelids fluttered open. Her pupils were blown with desire, her cheeks were red, beads of sweat beginning to form on her hair line. She closed her eyes quickly as his magic continued to work her open for him, and so he watched her like that for a while, shuddering and gasping for air as he built her up but refused to properly bring her down.

She let out a wail when all his magic suddenly dissipated.

               “Come.” He heard himself speak, pulling her to her feet. She stumbled, her legs still weak and he caught her, holding her to his chest.

               “Solas, please.” She whispered against him. He grinned, his fingers finding her slit, but he teased again. She was wet, so very very wet. Her thighs are coated in it, dripping even, and he knows she was ready.

“Ma’harusha.” She sucked in a breath. He’s not surprised she knew what it meant, one day he’ll learn the reason she understood so much. But not now. Now, all he wanted is her writhing against his cock, begging him for the release he has so far denied her. And so he lifted her chin to once more look him in the eyes, and kissed her roughly until her lips were swollen and bruised.


 

               Evelyn felt like she was going to go insane. Taking him as deep as she had, listening to his gasps and moans had already aroused her enough, but whatever magic he’d used had only made her feel like she was going crazy. She knew after the first time he wasn’t going to let her come, but it didn’t ache any less when her cunt began to pulse, begging for something more than magic to fill her, stretch her. And then when it had found its way to her ass, Maker’s breath she had never felt anything like that. She’d heard of people doing such things but she never imagined it would feel that good. She wanted it more, deeper, but all the rocking of her hips got her was the feeling abating, only to come back and wind her up again.

               “I’ll ask again.” Solas muttered, biting the tip of her ear. “Who do you belong to?”

               “You.” She breathed out, rutting against the leg he’d slipped between her thighs.

               “And what do you want?” She whimpered as he removed his leg, but quickly replaced it with sinking one of his long calloused fingers into her. She moaned as he worked it slowly in and out, her muscles loosened by his magic not quite able to clench around the intrusion.

               “You.”  She let out a breathy gasp and then an undignified squeal when he removed his finger. “Solas, please.”

               He hummed happily, cupping her breasts and flicking his thumbs over her nipples. It would never be enough to finish her, and he knew that. “Please, what?”

               A wave of deja vu crashed over her, but she was too far gone to care. “Please, Solas. I need you…” sharp teeth grazed the soft skin of her neck, adding another mark to her already extravagant collection.

               “Need me to do… what, vhenan?” Whatever control she had over him was gone the minute she’d given in earlier. He was going to make her beg, damned be her soul.

               “Fuck me.”

               Solas groaned, biting down hard into her neck. “Say it again.”

                “Fuck me, Solas.” She gasped as he gave her nipples a sharp pinch. Suddenly she remembered the dream. Her voice, her voice got to him. He was going to tease her for eternity, but her voice frayed all his tightly wound control.

               “Rosa’da’din in’em.”

               She gasped as he gripped her tightly. He pulled back from her and she could see his eyes again. There was a storm there, she’d just snapped something in him, something dark and primal she didn’t even know was there. She didn't know whether to be afraid or aroused.

Suddenly, the room began to spin, forcing her to shut her eyes, but she knew if she opened them he’d still be there, watching her with an intensity that made her want to shy away from him. Then, the spinning stopped. He turned her around, eyes still closed, but his grip on her arms was ironclad. Cautiously, she opened them to find them in the rotunda, Solas’s desk as she always remembered it. She sucked in a breath, realizing what was about to happen. She could feel Solas’s body behind her, his hot breath against her neck as he bent his head.

“Jutuan ma ir rosas’da’din, ma tel’aman melin.” She gasped, the feeling of all his magic suddenly returning to her at once and she screamed. Hot, cold, tendrils of his magic all filling her at once, it was too much…

And then it was gone again. Her legs were shaking, he was holding her up and she slumped almost limp into his arms.

“We're not done yet, Vhenan. You would not think to deny me my pleasure would you?”

“No.” she responded, as he moved her closer to the desk. He still hadn't let her come. “Solas… sathan… pala em.”

He sucked in a sharp breath of air, gripping her arm even tighter. “Then bend over.”

She did as he asked, her brain too muddled to do anything else. She brushed aside an artifact but left the papers. It was cool against her hot skin as her fingers scrambled for some purchase. It was a bit lower than she’d expected, raising her ass higher in the air, displaying her swollen, glistening cunt for Solas to see. She heard the scrape of his chair, stopping once he was directly behind her, before he sat down. She felt one of his calloused fingers gently trace the outside of her lower lips, before being replaced by his hot, wet tongue. He then dragged his tongue between her folds gently teasing her opening before slipping inside, his fingers finding her clit and pinching it gently. She moaned loudly, rocking against his face, begging to the Maker or Andraste, or damned it be the Old Gods of Tevinter to grant her release.

A moan rumbled through his throat sending a vibration through her cunt that made her scratch her finger nails into the polished wood. She moaned as he continued working his tongue inside her, his fingers pinching and occasionally palming at her clit.

“Mar rodhe ir’on.” He pulled back momentarily, his palm rubbing faster and harder against her.

Sathan.” She couldn’t beg anymore. There’s nothing more than she could say. He kept working her towards her high.

Please, please, please, Solas. But his tongue didn’t return to her cunt, instead, he found her tighter hole, already loosened from his earlier magic.  She clenched suddenly at the strange intrusion; unlike his magic, his tongue was very real. Two calloused fingers found their way into her cunt as she began to moan uncontrollably, still clenching and tensing around his fingers and tongue.

Then they were gone again, once more leaving her aching, wet, and so unbearably empty.

“Solas… sathan, sathan…” Her voice cracked, her throat dry.

               She heard the chair scraping against the stone floor, his hands finding her hips and gripping them brutally. And finally, finally she could feel his cock, hard against her thigh. She spread her legs for him, no need of coaxing from his magic. Maker she needed him so much, she’d do anything now for him to give her what she wanted.

               He chuckled. “Eager are we?”

               She moaned, closing her eyes and nodding her head. “Yes…”

               He rutted against her, his cock spreading her lips and sliding through her drenched cunt but still missing her opening intentionally. It brushed by her clit and she moaned, canting toward him as his cock still missed its mark, spreading her wetness all over her thighs and belly.

               “Solas, please, just fuck me, please, I can’t take it anymore.”

               He didn’t say anything, only grunted when he finally caught her entrance. Evelyn whined, digging into the table once more as he slowly pushed the very head of his cock into her. He was bigger than she’d imagined, probably bigger than anything she’d had inside her before. Thankfully, he recognized it, sliding into her slowly, giving her cunt time to stretch and accept him.

               She could hear him panting, the grip on her hips tightening. He’s going too slowly, out of concern or in attempt to savor it she didn’t know. But she wanted all of him now. She canted her hips back suddenly and he let out a low groan, sinking more of him into her despite the burning as he stretched her. He leaned over her; she could feel his breath on her back. She tried to move again, but he had her pressed up against the desk too tightly. She tried to squirm and he seemed to understand, answering her with one, achingly slow pull before roughly plunging back into her.

               After that, it was hard to think beyond what she was feeling. He began slow, allowing each thrust to give her time to adjust to his size. At some point, he offered to use magic to ease his passage, to remove the stinging burn and slick his way more to ease her discomfort. She found his concern odd, but declined. She wanted to feel everything as intended. And so she did. The gentle, even rocking of his hips bumped her thighs against the table, but he dragged her backwards, holding her hips steady as his thrusts become deeper and faster. His magic returned at some point, tracing over her skin gently to counter the rough and brutal pace he adopted. She didn’t know what she was doing anymore, her throat was so parched and sore she didn’t know if she was gasping, moaning, or screaming, time and feeling bleeding together as he found the angle that has her seeing white.

               His tendrils of will had found her ass again, and she whined, the magic sliding in and out of her tighter hole as Solas’s cock filled her other. It didn’t hurt, a byproduct of his magic she assumed as it worked deeper inside her, filling her as his cock might.

               Solas’s thrusts eventually become more erratic, pulling out before plunging completely back in, and each time, she felt a pressure at her opening, her cunt working itself around whatever it was with each thrust. She was too delirious to wonder why the Solas in her dreams had a knot, but she didn’t protest, didn’t want to. Her cunt pried open for it little by little until it seated itself deep within her. Due to the knot, his thrusts became shallower, every tug too far causing her to whimper in pain. The muscles in her lower belly were tight, clenching and rippling over the swelling knot pressed firmly against that perfect spot within her, the magic tendrils within her ass curling and thrusting and finding another.

               And then she was coming, pleasure shooting through her body as her cunt rippled and clenched around him, wave after wave of pleasure as his magic and knot pushed her through so many climaxes she lost count, the muscles in her cunt bunching and flexing, those of her lower belly spasming and cramping, her legs in not much better condition as tears spilled from her eyes from the intenseness of it all. Solas didn’t last long after that, letting out what almost sounded to be a howl as he spilled inside of her, hot spurts of his come filling her, pressing into her, and even trapped as it was by the knot, some dripped out of her regardless, coating her inner thighs and running down her legs.

               “Ar lath ma, Vhenan.” He whispered into her ear, curled over her and holding her tightly. She could feel his heartbeat against her back, the slick sweat on his skin as his magic once more seeped into her body to soothe her aching muscles.

               She could still feel him inside her, his knot still too large to remove, but she was exhausted. Her eyelids felt heavy, sleep beckoning to her. She tried to open her mouth to respond, but Solas only shushed her.

               “Sleep, vhenan.

               And so she closed her eyes, drifting off into another part of the Fade, a wolf watching her from a distance.

Chapter Text

The Inquisitor that morning awoke once more wet and wanting, Solas assumed, all memories of the previous night fading quickly, as dreams normally do. He couldn’t have her remembering any of it, it’s too dangerous. And selfish. He indulged himself, and her, given himself completely, had him doubting everything he wanted to do.

               Truly, he was ashamed of himself. He let himself go too far, he should never have stepped into her dream like that, taken her like an animal.

               Now he understood her difficulty with speaking to him after the night she’d stumbled into his dream. He wondered if it would be different if he’d confronted her in the waking world, not in the Fade where she thought he wasn’t real. It would mean he would bind himself to her, assure he’d have to break her later if he ever wanted to succeed. In dreams, he can be more of himself, or pretend to be himself. Maybe that was the only way he could love her.

               He promised he’d stay away, and yet the next night he went back. And the next, and the next.

               Even in the Exalted Plains, filled with demons and the memories of the ruined imitation of the empire he had destroyed, he went to her, let himself slip a little bit more. She’d let him do what he wanted, indulged in his anger at the mages who’d killed his friend. He’d let her into a part of him he hadn’t let anyone of this age see. He wanted to scream for her to run away, scare and frighten her in his rage, maybe even get her to hate him, or at least be disgusted in him. It would make it all easier.

               But instead she’d held him, whispered to him she was sorry, let her soft hand brush against his cheek and he’d let her.

               As he traveled alone back to Skyhold, he dared to imagine giving it all up again. He could love her now, defeat Corypheus, and right his mistakes. The Inquisition would disband and he could finally have her all to himself. Maybe they would have little children; a girl with her bright, intelligent eyes, a boy with her lips and gentle smile. They could grow old and be happy. And his heart hurt to imagine all he would never have, the chances he would destroy as the world turned to ashes and he was forced to lay her in a grave. He needed to pull away, it would be kinder, easier in the long run, but whose feelings he was sparing he no longer knew.

               So when she pleaded, “Don’t go,” he let her feel her hands roam over his body, and pulled her close, savoring the feel of her lips soft against his own. He had gained a part of himself he’d mourn for eternity when he’d be forced to let it go.