It had been a few weeks since their last excursion to the Exalted Plains. Inquisitor Lavellan was still trying to build a better relationship with the Dalish clan that made their home there, near Var Bellanaris — a daunting task, to be sure. They were still wary of the Inquisition, despite the fact that Ash had repeatedly stood up for his people and their way of living.
He’d earn their favor soon, though. Solas had no doubt of that. The Inquisitor was remarkably resourceful, and… charming.
Solas was still coming to terms with the fact that Ash had even managed to charm him, but his thoughts about the Inquisitor were now always followed by memories of sparkling energy and a smug grin.
Half the reason Solas had tagged along on this trip was so he could see Passion again. The thought alone made him giddy and eager, considering how frustrating the past couple weeks in Skyhold had been. Once they’d set up camp, Solas made an excuse to retire early and set wards inside his tent to keep his companions from disturbing his sleep. This time, he didn’t even care what they thought he was up to — he was far too restless to worry about their judgments or concerns.
It took him far too long to settle enough to slip into the Fade, but once he had he gave a small sigh of relief.
Good. Now, all he had to do was call out and hope —
There was a shift in the wind, a tug of gravity pulling Solas in a certain direction. He chuckled and let it guide him through the shifting expanse of the Fade until he caught sight of a giant wolf statue… and the spirit sitting cross-legged at its feet, smirking at him.
Solas let out a soft huff of air, annoyed that the use of that endearment actually made him feel a little warm. “Lath'in'iseth, ” he replied.
“I think more than your heart is warm right now. You’re as bright and as proud as a beacon.” The spirit's smirk shifted into a grin as the spirit stood up and hopped down from the statue with all the grace of a beast on the prowl. Solas shivered a little. This was new.
“New, but not unpleasant,” Passion quipped. An echo of something he’d told Solas before, the last time they’d met: unexpected, but not unwanted.
The spirit was within arm’s reach now, but Solas remained still — allowing Passion to be the one who closed the distance. But then the spirit vanished, only to reappear behind Solas in an ambush, arms wrapping around his waist. Solas gasped in surprise, then groaned when he felt Passion’s mouth on his neck.
It seems like you’re the one who got caught this time, da’Fen.
Solas could feel the amusement radiating from the spirit in a low, pleased hum. As the initial bewilderment faded, though, he felt a mix of other things flare up within — frustration foremost among them. Passion bit down on his neck, then, and Solas whined as his mind was flooded with several brief flashes of things the spirit wanted to do with him.
Most of them involved Solas pressed up against things while Passion claimed him, made him plead and beg for his release. Some of them also included creative uses of magic — hot, icy, electrifying…
“I’ve been playing this game for a long time,” Passion sighed, breath hot against Solas’s ear. “I know what to do for you. Trust me. I know what will please you.” A hand crept down Solas’s body to palm the front of his pants, which were already quite taught and strained by his erection. Solas arched into the touch before he could stop himself and Passion had the audacity to laugh — a bright, bubbly sound that had no right to make his heart skip and flutter so much.
Then Passion was in front of him, shoving him all the way back against the statue. Solas grunted, which the spirit took as an opening to press in closer and capture the elf’s mouth in a hot, fervent kiss. It was more than just a meeting of lips, though — it was a shift between them, a battle for power… and it was one that the spirit actually seemed to be winning.
You gave me a lot of spark last time you were here, Passion hummed, not even having to pause from the kisses to converse. I’d been asleep for a long time, but… you awakened me, da’Fen. I want more.
Solas felt a tongue slide across his lips, seeking entrance. He knew giving in even in such a small way would firmly grant Passion the upper hand here, but when he thought of the things Passion had shown him earlier, it was like a jolt went straight through him… and he groaned softly, his mouth opening to allow the spirit to take what he had to give.
He wanted more, too.
As the soft, warm tongue invaded his mouth, Solas swore the form holding him grew more solid — something that was entirely possible, actually. It was part of how such partnerships worked: both sides grew stronger from the exchange of energy.
When the spirit shifted against Solas again, though, something firm definitely pressed up against his thigh. He felt the spirit’s lips flutter into a smirk against his own, the sharp tongue flicking against his. A playful gesture, but… it ignited something inside Solas, and suddenly he felt hot all over, like he was being consumed by a brilliant flame.
Passion finally withdrew from the kiss to tug at Solas’s clothing — and he shivered as the layers simply melted away into nothing from that touch, baring Solas in only a few moments. He gave a breathless laugh.
“Hah, someone’s eager…”
“Of course I am,” Passion purred. “Why wouldn’t I be? I get to make the Dread Wolf whimper and beg for my mercy.”
Solas held back a whine as the spirit’s hands slid down from his waist to grasp his hips, lifting and guiding them with ease into a position that allowed them to grind and slide against each other. The noise escaped anyway when Solas glanced down and got his first good look at Passion’s shaft — which was, like the rest of the spirit, perfectly capable of shifting to meet Solas’s needs.
Presently, though, it was quite… daunting. Large, long, laced with crackling Fade energies. It sparked and burned like ice whenever it touched Solas’s sensitive skin. His own cock ached from the mere thought of how that was going to feel inside him.
A tongue grazed his ear, then, followed by teeth and a gentle suck — and his eyes fluttered closed as he gave in to the sensations he was being assailed with. Then he felt Passion shift again, and suddenly all the sensations were concentrated at his entrance.
Solas hadn’t been on the receiving end of sex in a very long time, but the fact that they were doing this in the Fade made things a little easier on him. There was no pain when he was penetrated — only an intense, somewhat uncomfortable pressure that was made more intense by the sheer size of Passion’s shaft.
The more he was filled, though, the more heat bloomed within him.
Passion chuckled low and deep beside his ear, and Solas felt the spirit kiss his neck again. Then their hips met, and a jolt of electric energy ran through his entire body. Solas tilted his head back and groaned.
“I knew you’d like this.”
Passion sounded entirely too smug about that, but Solas was far too fired up to care. Yes, he liked it. He liked it a lot — and he really, really wanted the spirit to start moving, damn it…!
“As you wish,” the spirit hummed, another soft chuckle vibrating against Solas’s neck. Solas whined aloud as their hips surged like storm waves and began moving, slow and steady. He reached out to grasp the spirit’s shoulder for support, the tips of his fingers digging into the blue-green, glistening form. His other hand tangled into Passion’s pitch-dark hair, tugging on it to encourage the spirit to stay close.
When his head tilted up and his gaze crossed over the wolf statue keeping silent watch above them, he felt his cheeks flush. The spirit knew who he was and had some manner of control over the Fade just as he did, so this choice of scenery had been deliberate.
A spark of amusement flickered, only to be nearly immediately replaced by an overwhelming urge to claim and dominate. Solas’s mouth fell open in a gasp as he realized this could be trouble if he wasn’t careful — this spirit seemed to be a very old and powerful one. And it liked to tease him and turn the tables like this…!
The spirit was still moving just as slow and steady as before. It was excruciating. Solas felt like he was near the point of bursting already, but this pace wasn’t quite enough for him.
“More,” Solas groaned.
Passion nibbled on his neck and Solas shivered. Another surge of amusement came through right before the spirit pushed in with greater force, pressing Solas’s cock up between them. His head fell back and he yelled, toes curling as he —
Solas writhed and whimpered, still tense from the release that should have happened. Passion pulled away enough to flash a grin at him, eyes twinkling with impish mischief. “Don’t want you to come before me this time, da’Fen.”
Solas growled, fury surging up within him — but that only seemed to amuse the spirit more. “Please, Solas. We both know you like this arrangement. But, if it helps…”
There was a shift in the air, followed by a falling sensation, and Solas closed his eyes to fight the sense of vertigo. When he opened them, their surroundings were different — they were in the same familiar quarters they’d awakened in after their last encounter: a canopied bed with delicate satin and lace curtains, carefully painted walls, and intricate stained glass windows.
He was nestled against soft, downy pillows with Passion still pulsing inside him — though the spirit was now kneeling on the bed between his legs instead of standing. Yes, this would be more comfortable —
“Is that what you think?” the spirit asked, flashing him another cocky grin. Suddenly, there was a chill as icy cold energy prickled along his skin, leaving gooseflesh in its wake. Solas gasped and arched his back, clenching hard around the spirit.
“Fenedhis lasa…!” Solas gasped.
Passion growled and pressed him down against the bed, frosted fingers digging into Solas’s hips just hard enough to keep them in the right place as the spirit started moving again. Faster, this time, thankfully — or, perhaps not.
Solas still felt dazed and dizzy, left teetering on the edge of a cliff. Each movement now multiplied that feeling and sent more chills creeping up his spine. He was so full and stretched thin, every muscle drawn taught like a bow ready to fire. He was sweating, shaking, shivering…
It was too much to bear, but it was still not enough.
“More,” Solas groaned, annoyed by how feeble his voice sounded. “I need more.”
He tugged Passion close and growled as he felt the spirit bite his shoulder, teeth sinking in deep. His cock jerked, still aching for release. Solas felt the spirit wrap a hand around it and squeeze, yet more mirth fluttering through their connection.
You need to ask nicely, the spirit mused, tongue sliding over the new marks on Solas’s skin. I want to hear you say ‘please.’
Solas lay back and groaned. Other words flitted about the edge of that thought, and he shivered as his pleasure-addled mind took time to process them. Please. I want you. Want you to say you want me, too. Want you all to myself. Mine. Nuvenan rosa’da’din in ma sule enan’ma.
Jutuan ma ir rosas’da’din, ma tel’aman melin, da’Fen. Only me.
"Fenhedis,” Solas whimpered, another chill coursing through his entire body. What the spirit wanted could be dangerous, and yet…
The spirit seemed to swell up inside him, stretching him further each time their hips met again, and Solas felt a thumb swirl over the head of his own cock. It was dripping and glistening, but still… still not… Solas exhaled sharply as the thumb pressed down, sending a spike of pain and pleasure through him.
Solas was desperate, now, tired of teetering on the edge of this blade.
He needed to come. Even if it meant...
Even if it meant he had to...
“Please,” he gasped out, shuddering. "Sathan, lasa rosa'da'din…!"
Passion bit down again, a groan escaping the spirit as the humming sensation in the air grew more intense. The next few thrusts were hard, piercing — filling Solas so much he wasn’t sure he could take any more. He dug his fingers into the spirit’s shoulder and hair, pressed his heels into the mattress beneath them, and howled.
His vision was flooded with bright light, then, and the ringing sound in his ears peaked and plummeted. There was an electrifying burst of energy deep within him that sent the whole world tumbling — and finally, finally, Solas was able to surrender to his own release.
It took several minutes for him to recover. He felt thoroughly spent and completely full; sated beyond measure. The weight of Passion’s body pressing down on him was oddly satisfying as well, very… comfortable. Solas hadn’t realized how much he’d missed the wonderful feeling of being so close to another warm body in the wake of fantastic sex.
“Flaterer,” Passion mumbled, but Solas was pretty sure the faint, glittering wisps that danced across the spirit’s cheeks meant Passion was blushing.
It was cute.
Fondness bloomed in Solas’s heart as Passion traced a lazy pattern over his chest and shoulder, fingers delicately stroking over the bite marks that lingered there. After a few moments, though, the spirit sat up to gaze at him.
“This room… it’s familiar to you. Comfortable. You brought us here last time, too.”
Solas nodded, then closed his eyes. He could conjure up thousands of memories that took place in these halls, but he settled for a few choice moments. Reading by the fireplace, watching dragons fly in the distance as he stood on the balcony, wiping paint off his hands after making a few finishing touches to the mural that spanned the wall over the bed.
Trees, a mountain, a proud figure wearing a wolf cloak.
“I lived here, a long time ago,” he sighed. “These were my quarters, and… this was my bed.”
“They’re very nice,” Passion sighed, seeming pleased. “I like the painting — you are a man of many passions, da’Fen.”
Solas gave a soft snort of a laugh. After all, one currently mattered more than the rest — despite the insistence on using that ridiculous nickname. Little wolf. Humph.
“You like it,” the spirit said, chuckling. “You blush a little more every time I say it.”
“Shut up,” Solas groaned — but he could tell by the heat in his cheeks and the smug grin on Passion’s face that he was once again proving the spirit right. “Fenhedis lasa!”
Passion giggled and leaned in to kiss Solas — soft and sweet this time, entirely devoid of the sparking need that had filled their earlier kisses. I may take you up on that again next time. I do like the way you taste. Like honey… and wine. Intoxicating.
Solas broke the kiss with a sigh and stared up at the ceiling. He did like the thought, and he could get used to this, but… there was one small problem. “It may be some time before I can get away from Skyhold. The Inquisition has grown a lot, and… I’m quite busy.”
“Then I’ll just have to find my way to Tarasyl'an Te'las,” Passion said, as if such a feat would be the simplest thing in the world. Solas actually felt hope flutter in his stomach at the thought of being able to see the spirit whenever he wanted to. It was a pleasant feeling.
“I look forward to it,” Solas said, cupping the spirit’s cheek as he smiled wide. Sule melan’an, ea son.
As he began to wake up, the Fade slowly dissolved from view. The last thing to disappear was Passion’s bright, gleaming grin.
It was not yet dawn when he awakened. Crickets chirped nearby, the ground was wet with dew, and the sky was dark except for a sliver of pale blue on the horizon. Solas felt full of purpose and energy, as if he’d been completely renewed.
A gift, perhaps. It was certainly not a feeling he would squander.
He made use of those early hours to crack open a journal and work — jotting down some new ruminations and notes on ideas he’d been mulling over in his mind. He was so engrossed that he didn’t really notice Inquisitor Lavellan emerge from his tent and walk over to watch him work.
“Quite busy this morning, I see.”
“Yes,” Solas said, shifting a little to stretch his neck, which had begun to feel a little stiff. He took a moment to glance up at Ash. He looked a bit silly, with his short auburn hair still ruffled up and his clear-blue eyes all bleary with sleep. “I have some coffee brewing over the fire.”
“That’s nice,” Ash mumbled, yawning. “I certainly need it.”
A few minutes later, after he’d poured himself a mug and taken a few sips of the stuff, Ash spoke up again. “By the way, Solas... I could make you some ointment, if you need it.”
Solas blinked once, confused, and turned to face the Inquisitor. “What? Why would I…?”
“It looks like you got into some rashvine yesterday,” Ash said, rubbing his neck as he grimaced a bit, eyes gleaming with empathy. “There’s a big, bright rash on your neck. Didn’t you notice?”
Solas felt his cheeks heat up slightly, and he bowed his head forward as he pinched the bridge of his nose as he realized that was another gift from his night with Passion — all those prickly bites must have marked him, even outside the Fade. “I… suppose… I could use some ointment, yes. How silly of me, to… to not notice such a thing.”
“It happens to the best of us,” Ash said, laughing as he opened up his pack and started taking out various herbs. “I used to get into rashvine and prickle-weed all the time. But a mild poultice does the trick — feladara, embrium… a bit of aloe, if you have it. Voila. Works on almost any mild irritation. I use it all the time.”
“Thank you, letha’lin.”
As Solas tucked his journal away and found somewhere slightly more secluded to apply the mixture, he found himself burning with a desire to show that smug little spirit why toying with the Dread Wolf wasn’t the best idea.
Oh well, he thought. There is always next time.