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Once, in the ancient days, Halamshiral had been home to the elves, but now it stunk of Orlesian treachery. The Grand Duke Gaspard--now Emperor-- was only too inclined to extend his hospitality to the Inquisition. He remained pompous, even with Briala holding his leash. Regardless, he made certain that Ellana understood his displeasure at the arrangement. His voice dripped with disgust and sarcasm as he sighed, “Imagine what wonders have occured, Inquisitor. Bested by that Rabbit.” The newly-crowned leader wielded intimidation with the same kind of efficacy that Empress Celene had weaponized courtesy.Even if the term ‘rabbit’ didn’t have the same bite as knife-ear but it demeaned her all the same.

She wanted to slap his smug, masked face but Ellana recalled Briala’s temperate advice. She was reminded of a cat’s purr, “Leaders do not beg to be heard, silence is your ally. Courtesy your shield.” Instead of striking the Emperor, Ellana bent her head, unused to the authority she was forced to wield. “Emperor Gaspard, the wonders of the game are never consistent. Even now the world seems new,” she offered tactfully. She hid her anger behind her own mask and pride concealed her fear. What did she have to be afraid of? She was a Dalish elf, her people remember and kept the old ways, protecting the past. She was no city rabbit or oppressed knife ear.

Gaspard was not amused by her tone and dismissed her with a blunt wave, “Another time, then.” He did not speak as one who commanded, but as a beleaguered fool. A smile lifted the corner of her mouth at the Emperor’s defeated gait. Ellana was grateful for the silence and found comfort in the stars, knowing her clan was out there looking at the same sky. She clung to the balcony, her fingers grasping the stone bannister. It felt like the only thing that grounded her to Thedas.

Solas approached Ellana with stealth befitting a bard and the caution of a spymaster. The whole evening shocked nobles attempted to steal glances at the Dalish elf. The rabbit at the center of the of the changing world. Despite the attention, she looked peaceful as she gazed upon the wide sky and he watched, transfixed, as she charted the stars. He stood at her side, marveling at how they found peace together. “You did very well, Vhenan,” Solas praised her, taking her hand in his own with a courtly boldness. A wry smile played on his lips as he admired her serious expression. It was no surprise a Dalish elf found the Orlesian blend of intrigue and politics exhausting.

His hands slipped around her own like a glove and Ellana took comfort in their encompassing warmth. “We aren’t done. This is hardly a victory,” she stated. It was hard to feel powerful, she reasoned, when the only thing that stood between you and imprisonment was the regard of Shemlen. “Corypheus is still out there,” Ellana admitted. Even if the ancient magister was not the true reason of her fear, he was a convenient lie. She did not want to look weak to her mentor and lover, who seemed so at ease in Halamshiral.

The laugh in Solas’ voice was unexpected as he squeezed her hand with a benevolent tenderness. His lips were inviting and soft against the front of her fingers as he kissed them with admiration shining in his grey eyes. Ellana’s cheeks flushed a bright red as he admitted, tucking the Dalish elf in a partial embrace. “Yes, that may be true, but you have scored a major victory. The elves in Orlais may have a stake in their future and they have you to thank for it.” He could not help but admire the deep shade of red on her cheeks. It was quite becoming on her features, despite the vallaslin that marred them. Solas met her gaze, analyzing the gold in her eyes and assured her, “Celebrate, Da’len. You are the hero of the hour.” His words sounded more like a command, even though he spoke in dulcet tones. “Dance with me,” he ordered as he whisked her from the balcony.

Anxious nobles watched the Inquisitor and her elven servant in stolen glances. Solas guided her carefully, smiling each time her foot caught on the smooth stone. The music sounded distant, and the grandeur of the chords were muted by the gently babbling water from the garden fountains. Even though the bright red fabric of the formal attire left the Dalish elf feeling caged there was something in Solas' gaze that steadied her. He held her waist so delicately, but she could still feel the heat through his fingers. How could he be so tempting in that ridiculous hat? Each time she stumbled, Ellanna smelled him accidently; he reminded her of dusty books and the dew on the leaves as the sun rose. Soon, she forgot about the prying nobles and found herself hopelessly enraptured.

Solas touch was steady. He knew just how to direct her, even if her feet did not want to cooperate. More accurately, he guided her with the slightest gesture and she followed precisely. Even though her movement was rigid, she grew used to the feel of his hands and found a rhythm in the music. This was nothing like the music back home and it transported her to the heavens. Or was it the expression on his face as he watched her intently? Ellana blushed vividly as as the music began to die down and Solas pulled her close once more.

This time however, the gesture was far more intimate as he led her to a secluded corner of the balcony. Somehow, as he spun her, she fell against the wall. The smirk on his face was enough to tell her that Solas had other designs. The hand that once rested on her waist now moved to cup her cheek and pressed a gentle kiss to her parted lips. "Vhenan, what would have of your servant?"

She heard the teasing laughter beneath his words and blushed. The image of the tied soldier on the bed was still fresh in her mind. Creators, I’m all nerves, she maligned. The intent expression on his face left her bewildered. As if I had any such answers, Ellana sighed internally and felt Thedas shift between them. Although she was the inquisitor, he held the authority firmly in his grasp. Solas had the power to unmake her.

She looked exquisitely vulnerable as if words danced on her tongue and then evaded the dalish elf. Here, in this mirror of an ancient palace he knew so long ago, Solas was reminded of a younger man who saw a wide-eyed offering at his mercy. “Solas, Th-thank you for dancing with me earlier. I wasn’t aware you were quite so adept at Orlesian Balls,” Ellana spoke, finally finding her voice. “When I was young I would read about these and always wanted to dance like that...” she said, beginning to ramble. “Sometimes, when I went to the city I would...” she continued before Solas kissed her devoutly.

Normally, he concealed his affections, but the wine left his senses giddy. Ellana’s skin was so soft and he painted her with the tips of his fingers, drawing Ellana closer. The seam of her lips parted at the gentle insistence of his tongue as Solas enticed her. She could barely breathe as she felt their essences intertwine. “Forgive me, Vhenan, I read the longing in your eyes and could no longer deny you,” he whispered beneath her ear.

Her resistance melted away. Ellana felt naked despite the stifling formal attire. Her mind was laid bare as her soul jumped out of her body. She had never been kissed like that before. She fell limp against the wall and Solas smirked at her dazed expression. She was the perfect offering as he bent his head and captured her gaze. Somehow, she felt his fingers on her skin, carefully caressing the curve of her breast. Every nerve tingled, as she felt his mana overpower her own. His cruelty almost moved Ellanna to action as her hands moved up his body, settling on the broad pane of his chest. Her fingers gripped the blade of his shoulders before a loud voice called, “Pbbtht! Elfy and Inky, you know half of Orlais is watching you two make out. Gross!” Ellana would have sunk into the stone if Solas was not holding her there. She turned bright red with shame and tried to hide her face.

Solas glared harshly at Sera, who giggled profusely. “Sera,” he growled. He barked murderously at the other elf. Her face turned white, paleing with fear as she observed something dark in his eyes. Sera’s nerves got the better of her as she backed away, his figure shrouded with a malevolent glow. As the effect faded, her wits returned and stifled open laughter before fleeing the balcony.

The moment passed. Even so, Ellana watched him cautiously. She felt an innate fear as he revealed a darker nature. However, his voice shattered the spell. “My heart,” he said softly, “Sera is correct.” His eyes were purple beneath the grey irises, “If we wish to continue we should do so privately.” The gleam in his eye conjured images of a thousand kisses like the one he just gave her. She felt an unbidden warmth pooling in the bottom of her stomach and nodded silently. Suddenly, her mouth produced far too much saliva.

There was a promise in his glance and Ellana felt a keening hunger as Solas revealed he was far more adept at these games. “I am your servant,” he reminded her. “I cannot lead you through the ballroom, Vhenan.” He kissed the back of her hand as he allowed the smaller elf to steady herself. Her innocence beguiled Solas as she attempted to regain her composure.

His kisses had reduced her to abrupt sentences that felt graceless compared to his compelling words. “Yes,” she agreed, trying to speak through the lump in her throat and the heat that grew in her belly. It was like hunger, only more desperate. Ellana’s thoughts returned to the bound soldier in Celene’s bed, curiosity driving her instincts. Solas exchanged a playful glance with her and his fingers brushed against the small of her back as she turned away.

Her steps were urgent and determined, but in truth, Ellanna appreciated the time to think. She knew instinctively what Solas promised her. She felt it in his lips as they brushed against her own and conjured images of passion. Yet, she felt cornered, almost like prey. She could not forget the darkness she saw in him and it only made her more intrigued. She discerned something primal deep within.

The guest wing was a few winding hallways away. Somewhere in the pomp and grandeur, she lost Solas. Ellana blinked incredulously. He was simply gone, vanished from sight. She tried not to panic, but her nerves got the better of her. What had she done wrong? Was she not responsive enough to his advances? Maybe Sera had put him off entirely and he no longer wanted her tonight? Her mind raced to a myriad of conclusions as she approached the double doors to her suite of rooms. Alone, again, she sighed.

She slipped through the double door of her apartments in a narrow crack and sighed at the innate luxury. The Inquisition had been granted a guest wing at Halamshiral to house the upstart peacekeeping force. It was only a fitting a nation known for grand gesture propped up the rebellious organization with such style. It gave them an heir of legitimacy or a garrish legacy, but Ellana did not care either way.

The floors were smooth, unblemished marble with exotic fur rugs and framed by a roaring fire. The bed was Orlesian in style, swathed in dramatic curtains and carved in gilded extravagance. It looked more like a stage than place to sleep. A chair rested in the direct glow of the fire and by it a simple table. “It’s a bit much,” she heard Solas utter, slipping in behind her. Ellana was rendered speechless as his hands rested on her shoulders and traveled down her arms. The suggestive silk of ribbon brushed along her skin and she blushed furiously as she speculated at what they might be for. “Still,” he whispered against the skin on the side of her neck. “This was nothing compared to Arlathan, they say. Walls made of light, more beautiful than anything the eye could behold. Humans have worked with stone and precious gems to create this, but the ancient elves could carve light from the stars themselves.” Solas’ voice washed over her as he painted a memory of something that her mind could barely comprehend. A grand vision of unmeasured beauty and unlimited possibility seduced her. She thought to ask how he knew but the question evaded her as Solas narrated the scene flawlessly.

Each gesture was measured as Solas tilted her head back and kissed the side of her mouth. It was a teasing kiss and she fell against him. She leaned into the taller elf and as he turned her in his arms. It felt like a dance again. “What’s the ribbon for?” she asked, her voice delicate and curious.

Solas smirked as he set them down and led Ellana to the center of the room, where the large mantle fireplace dwarfed the wall. “Later,” he purred, drawing the elf into his embrace once more. Any clumsiness that affected her earlier was gone and she felt almost like a marionette in his arms as if he tugged on invisible strings. “There is a ritual to this,” Solas explained .His fingers tangled in her hair, enjoying the feel of the deep red strands between his fingers.

Methodically, he traced Elana's jawline, tilting her chin up so she met his eyes. They were wide as she waited on the precipice of something that she had only ever imagined. “To what?” She asked, swallowing, hoping that her nerves would die down and Solas would simply kiss her. Talking was becoming far too difficult. He began to unbutton her suit and revealed her skin to the golden glow of the firelight around them.

He smiled at her, as if she was meant to understand. “To the offering,” he stated. The entire night, she had seen another side to the humble apostate. His hands were smooth against her cheek as he he kissed her lips softly, sliding the thick formal attire from her shoulders. She shivered as he cool air touched her skin and saw Solas grin at her subtle reactions.

She waited for explanation. “Offering?” she inquired simply, before she realized what he meant, ‘Sex, you idiot,’ Ellana internally answered herself, blushing furiously. She had never heard it called that before. It seemed so ceremonial, as Solas traced the vallaslin on her face. The nerves tingled as he touched the markings and she shut her eyes. The ambient magic in his fingers created a tremble that started on her face and moved to the base of her spine. Her lips parted wantonly, he made her want more than his hands on her face.

“Dirthamen, keeper of secrets,” he said quietly, in hushed whispers, “Why did you choose him?” It grew more difficult to concentrate on her words as Solas propped her against the table and settled on his knees. His eyes implored her meaningfully as he removed her boots.

She ground her palms on the marble surface of the table and sighed as he removed the first shoe, wiggling her toes once they were free of the constraint. “ Uh--my keeper said that I was always too concerned with what I did not know, instead of--,” she said, pausing to find her words as Solas rubbed her feet purposefully. “--my clan,” she admitted, ashamed of her own curiosity.
His expression was impish and playful as he removed the second boot and massaged both of her feet, which were worn and sore from the fighting.

Solas stayed there for a moment, relishing in her sighs as he soothed her aching muscles. “Dirthaman was always fascinated with his secrets, often at the expense of the people,” he responded as if he knew the creator personally. The statement seemed out of place, as rose to her waist and slid her pants down her legs. She thought to question him until she felt Solas fingers on the bare skin of her leg, brushing the inside of her knee. She sighed at the gesture, almost frightened at the looming intimacy.

He saw the splinter of fear in her eyes and stopped, concerned, “Are you alright?” She nodded, her mouth suddenly dry as she felt warm arousal pool in the depths of her stomach. Solas’ touch tempted her.

In this moment, the possibilities were limitless as she looked into his grey eyes and saw freckles of purple in the iris.“I’ve...never done this...” she admitted, hoping that Solas would not abandon her now. He seemed relieved at her confession and continued to admire her legs. He caressed patterns on the skin and she felt an electric pulse as her energy fluctuated.

The upward quirk of his lips indicated that he did not mind as his hand settled just above her core, and warm fingers parted her labia. He caressed the lips with a delicate stroke and assured her, “Then, you shall enjoy this.” She was already slick as his fingers interacted with her slit.They traveled up it and nudged her clitoris, brushing against the pearl and she bucked gently against the pressure. Ellana’s words failed her as her mind went blank and her circled the bundle of nerves slowly, drawing an unexpected moan from the Dalish elf.

Solas relished in her submission. Her eyes shut of his own accord as he traced her collar bone while his lips entreated her once more. He whispered words to an ancient spell as he touched her skin with the delicacy of a sculptor. Ellana wanted to guess what art he created as an ambient, warm energy surged through her. “Creators,” she gasped, closing any distance between them as he began to unravel her slowly.

Any seduction was a dance, but Solas wanted nothing more than to see desire burn in her golden eyes. “Ar lath ma,” he whispered, his hands traveled to her mound, lingering just above it. He traced the curve of her breast and her entire body sighed as it settled on the delicate hairs. Her palms dug into the marble table as he explored her core with an agonizing patience, kneeling between her legs once more.

Before she could ask why, Solas drew his tongue along the slit of her vagina. Her arousal almost tasted sweet with decadent release. He had done so little, but she was already dripping for him. He felt a surge of power before indulging in the nectar that had gathered. His tongue danced on her folds, drawing the moisture from her vagina to tease her clitoris with the tip of his tongue. He taunted it with delicate flicks never quite touching, it was only a few moments before she was crying out, begging for something she barely understood.

He lubricated even her smallest crevice, slowly driving Ellana mad as she bucked against his face. Her body acted of its own accord while he pleasured her methodically, leading her from one orgasm to the next. “Solas!” she pled, tears forming in the corner of her eyes, as a wave of ecstasy traveled down her spine and to each nerve in her body. Solas did not stop, instead he inserted a narrow finger into her flooded entrance, seeking to finally unravel the inquisitor. He pumped her softly, never forgetting to kiss her pearl with reverence. He sucked on the bud firmly as her vagina clamped down his finger and her wordless cries echoed on the marble walls.

Solas continued to kiss her clitoris as he began to slow his fingers motion and her orgasm subsided. He listened for her pulse as Ellana’s expression fell into a lazy, sleepy grin. His fingers left her with an audible gush and he traced relaxing circles on the inside of her thigh using the lubricating moisture until he felt her body go limp. He caught her effortlessly and cradled her in arms as she breathed slowly.

Everything seemed so far away shrouded in the afterglow, Ellana tried to kiss Solas. She smelled her on his lips and wanted to taste herself. The thought was lewd and her cheeks beamed at the embarrassment. “You are so beautiful,” Solas praised as he set her gently on the bed. His fingers never left her body as he continued to caress her and feel the subtle vibrations of her orgasm lingering.

Solas appreciated the incandescent glow of her skin. Her entire body shimmered in the flickering firelight that danced on the walls. The flush on her cheeks revealed an enticing vulnerability as he purred, “Vhenan, you should see yourself.” His voice was a deep, low growl and reverberated through her entire being. She focused on breathing as feeling flooded through her entire body. As she recovered. Solas caressed her skin thoughtfully, as if studying a sculpture. “You look like star, fallen from the heavens.” He said through a thoughtful smile. His normally cool eyes were impossibly bright. He knew that he would remember this for the rest of his life. His fingers twitched as if he intended to draw. Briefly, Solas frowned. He would need to remember how she looked so he could paint her likeness later.

“Creators,” she sighed. Her voice carried a slight lilt, “I never knew I could feel like that.” The rustic accent carried through as Ellana bloomed. The offering, her offering, felt so pure and devoted that Solas reminded himself of exactly who he was.

Still, his ancient blood sung in chorus with crescendoed lust. Solas found amusement in her wanton surrender. “I am glad you enjoyed it, then,” he stated. His fingers ceased their leisurely ,but purposeful journey. Solas caressed her face, drawing a finger along her jawline and tilting her chin. He watched her expression attentively, as the golden light of her eyes refracted in erratic patterns. He lowered his head and kissed her cheek with a chaste reverence.

Then, his lips brushed moved to the side of her mouth as she drew a ragged breath. “Again?” Ellana asked her body heaved in anticipation. Solas chuckled as his mouth dropped from her face to the unblemished skin of her neck. He did not bite hard, instead he nipped. His tongue dancing over a pulse point.

Her back arched into his arms.“Are you tired already? The night is young,” he whispered beneath her ear. Solas warm breath tickled her skin and she somehow managed to not laugh aloud. Ellana felt suspended, her head spun with desires she could hardly comprehend as Solas tangled his fingers in her hair. Finally, he kissed her in earnest. She could not resist him as her lips parted for his tongue. She was helpless, vulnerable. Her entire being pulsed for want of him and she invited him to claim her, body and soul.

Solas discerned the flutter of divinity, as she reminded him of a past he had forgotten. A spark surged in him, and instead of shying away, he continued his conquest. He embraced the feeling of power in his veins as he explored her body.

The separation between them was brief, as he lifted himself from her side and stood over her. Her shoulders were narrow, muscular blades and her arms were willowy but firm. Years of wielding a stave left her trim. His fingers lingered above her breasts, before he traced the hard bud of her nipple. Each one was unique and Solas intended to memorize exactly how they felt against the pads of his fingers. Ellana stirred beneath him responding to the stimulus of his fingers as they indulged in her breasts. Massaging the skin with the flat of his palm.

Ellana perceived a gentle flow of magic that stimulated the skin. It was an ambient warmth that heighten her senses and she tried to meet his mouth in yet another kiss, but Solas denied her. It was his turn to fully appreciate Elana's surrender. “Not yet, my heart,” was all he said. His voice a gentle command while he manipulated her senses. Solas traced the curve of her breast and enjoyed the soft skin of her stomach, lingering on the bare skin. Small jolts of energy coursed through her as if he sought to possess her soul. Her moan was musical, a song of lust and need. Without touching her most intimate parts, a crest rose from the pit of her stomach and she cried out. Her voice fluctuated in staccato. Her back arched into the air, she dug her fingers into the blankets. Ellana gripped them with a profound strength while she ascended to another blissful release.

Solas arms were firm as he held her with the utmost care. He drew her from the mattress where her body still felt the tempting ache of ecstasy. Each nerve reaching and longing for more of his touch. Her legs were still weak from the sensations of pleasure that had overwhelmed her earlier, but Solas moved her with ease. His chest was firm against her back. She felt the strength of his erection press against her back of her thigh. “Vhenan,” Solas purred, drawing a finger along her jaw and tilting her head back to meet his lips in a kiss.

Ellana was nearly limp, her limbs mere clay in his arms that he could mold so perfectly. It was a feeling of power he thought he had lost. He growled softly and a low rumble echoed through them both as traced the sides her body. He began with the hard points of her nipples and down the lithe muscles of her stomach until they rested at her hips. Then he splayed his fingers along the bone, grinding her against him, teasing the wet lips of her slit with his penis. She felt the head of his cock brush her lips and she wanted more, twisting her hips against his. She tried to feel more of him before he chided her. “Patience,” he whispered, biting her neck with a bit more force before sucking on the inflamed flesh. “Keep still, Vhenan,” he commanded his hand acting as anchors on her hips as she twisted against him.

Regardless, she strained in his grasp, writhing against the firm pressure of his penis on her vagina as he began to tease the lips with his fingers, exploring her folds with deliberate leisure. “You’re so wet for me,” his voice low and dulcet taunted her. “Tell me, what is it you want?” he shifted his hips, thrusting forward as the tip of his penis, moist with precum rubbed against her already dripping slit.

Ellana could not even talk, her very words robbed from her mouth before she spoke. She bit her lip to focus, hoping that she could find the right phrase as his fingers drifted over her pearl tweaking it, but never quite hard enough for her to orgasm .“You.... I’m yours, belonging only to you,” she said between gasps. It sounded like a prayer as she begged while he aroused her senses, drawing the elf closer to the pinnacle. Her entire body wound around his on finger, as he merely stimulated her sopping core in the most gentle caresses. Even though it as the softest of touches she felt it reverberate in her mind and felt nothing but being enveloped in the rush of an orgasm that never quite came.

Solas was reminded of his past. Fen’harel would not have approved but he remembered that even the Dread Wolf enjoyed the hunt. “As you wish,” he stated. He spoke deeply and appreciative, shifting the ribbon between his fingers. “Would you like to be bound? At my mercy, Vhenan?” Her eyes grew wide at what he insinuated. The ribbon was soft against the her arms, caressing her skin as she moaned at the feel of the silk. He snaked it around one wrist and captured it.

The ribbon was softer than she imagined it would be and the smooth texture left goosebumps where it touched. She wanted, no needed, to be bound and helpless. She wanted to be taken, to know that she was his alone. “Please,” she begged with a stifled cry. the fingers of his other hand had never abandoned their purpose and stroked her clitoris more firmly. When she felt the pads of his fingers being replaced by yet another ribbon, her legs buckled from the pleasure. She would have fallen to the bed, but Solas gently lowered her to the mattress. She sighed indulgently, tempted to curl up like cat after her profound release.

The sight of Ellanna Lavellan, the Inquisitor, at his mercy made him feel predatory, and his control was disappearing. He wanted nothing more than to fuck her. He imagined how wet and warm she was, and how her walls would embrace him to perfection. However, there was a ritual to the offering, and the claiming. “You may feel some pressure,” Solas explained drawing up the her body so her back was flush against his chest. The tip of his penis just entered her and her walls embraced him, wanting to feel more. Ellana sighed as the soft ribbon looped around her forearms, creating a sturdy vice. Wordlessly, he lowered her to body to the bed and Ellana was embraced by a a rising tide of lust. The ribbons allowed Solas to control her entirely as she sheathed more of his erection.

Ellana’s heart pounded as Solas entered her with care. With one hand he guided her as she moved further on the mattress. Her vagina was greedy for him, claiming his cock before he could adjust properly. It almost hurt, but the pain was exquisite and she came as he thrust forward in exacting strokes. “Solas,” she cried, drowning in the friction of his erection sliding inside of her. She wanted to slump down, to relax her posture, but Solas held her in place.

The way her body devoured him on impulse alone was enough to unleash the Dread Wolf. His eyes gleamed once more, but Ellana could not see it. She was enraptured in ritual so ancient that it was imprinted on her limbs while Solas kept thrusting. Each stroke a little deeper until he felt her cervix. She came, her vagina clamping around the walls of his penis. The lust began at the base of her spine and traveled through each nerve in her body as she cried out, begging, “Ungh, more.” Solas obliged Ellana without a second thought as she unraveled. Her body began to slump, her strength fading as she found oblivion. Swiftly, Solas lifted her torso as he finished inside of her. He held her close as he found his release, accompanied by a wave of energy as his divinity fluctuated.

Ellana barely noted as Solas set her on the bed and untied her bonds. She was left in a haze. The ancient power still radiated in his veins. Still, this was not mere lust. It was a bonding. He could see the fringes of her dreams while sleep claimed her. He smiled contentedly, curling his body around the smaller elf as she rested. He would guard her dreams. When she woke he would hunt that same lust and claim her once more.