#solas returns

Cullen sat up and then leaned back in his chair as she walked toward him. "As much as it pains me to admit, I'm glad we were able to secure the Orlesians as allies. I've received word from the Imperial army. They are ready to march with the Inquisition when called upon. Also, it seems that all your footholds outside Skyhold have increased our reputation. We're receiving reports that people view us as a stabilizing force, which means another round of recruits has arrived eager to pledge themselves to our cause. It looks like we obtained the new smith just in time."

Evana sat on the back edge of his desk, facing him. "Sounds like we should leave Skyhold more often, then. What do you say? The Commander and Inquisitor, cutting down demons and red templars all the way across Ferelden and Orlais."

Cullen gave her a wry smile. "If my duties didn't keep me chained to this desk, I would be at your side in a moment."

Abruptly, he stood, took the papers from her hands and laid them on his chair. Then he took her hand and led her to the fire. The small box Harritt had handed to Cullen sat untouched on the mantle, and she tried not to stare at it. She blushed when she turned to find him watching her with an expression that seemed to be a mixture of adoration and amusement. Finally, he reached up and pulled the box from the shelf.

"I wish I'd been able to give you this the other night, but as it is..."

She smiled as he handed her the box and then internally cursed her silly nerves as her hands trembled when she lifted the lid. She gasped.

"Cullen! It's... is that my design? Oh! And the Inquisition sunburst... and... wait... is that...?"

"A lion to match my helmet. I wish I could take credit, but I merely handed Harritt the coin and asked him to make something of it. Dagna might've helped."

She could only stare at it, then back to him, then back at the amulet. It was a representation of... them. A little of him, a little of her, and a bit of the Inquisition. Harritt had captured it perfectly.

"It's imbued with a Lifeward, courtesy of Dagna," he explained a little nervously when she didn't respond. "Do you have the coin?"

With another gasp, she suddenly shoved the box back at him and ran out of the office. His surprised laughter followed her out the door as she flew back to her quarters, retrieved the coin from her armor and ran back downstairs. This time, she slowed to a fast walk when passing through the great hall, but several people, including Varric sitting at his regular table, gave her odd looks. She didn't care. Suddenly, nothing seemed more important than getting back to Cullen with the coin now squeezed tightly in her fist. She rushed through Solas' empty study and arrived back in his office out of breath.

"Here... it is..."

Cullen gave her an amused look, but merely took the coin from her and placed it inside the clever compartment Harritt had designed. Both sides were visible, but Cullen placed the image of Andraste facing out. Evana was, after all, supposed to be the prophet's Herald. She then turned around and let him place the necklace around her neck. After he fastened the clasp of the silverite chain, his fingers lingered on her neck before sliding down to grasp her shoulders. Lips brushed against the side of her neck as he turned her to face him.

"Mmmm... your doors are still unlocked, Commander."

He let out a small groan and then lifted his head to smile at her. "And I've got six days of paperwork to get through."

He didn't move away immediately, however. One hand moved down to rest on her hip, and the other moved to touch the amulet where it lay between her breasts. A shiver danced down her spine as his fingertips ghosted across the fabric of her tunic when he picked it up.

"It looks good on you," he murmured, his voice low and a little breathless.

"It's perfect, Cullen," she assured him.

Without thinking, she bit her lip, and suddenly, his eyes were on her lips. He bent down and brushed his mouth gently over hers as his hand moved from the amulet to cup her face. The air in the room suddenly felt hot, and she lifted her hands to rest them on his cool breastplate. He pulled away slightly, and the intense, almost pained look in his eyes reminded her of Haven, of their moment in the Chantry when she'd felt he might be trying to tell her something...

"Evana..."

The strain in his voice told her he was struggling with something, but she was unsure of how to help him. His thumb ghosted across her cheek as he shook his head and started again.

"Evana... I..."

He took a deep, tremulous breath, closed his eyes, and rested his forehead on hers. She moved a hand up to his cheek and felt his jaw clench and unclench repeatedly under her palm. She was about to speak when he suddenly broke away from her, took her hand from his face, kissed her palm and looked down at her with a small smile.

"I'm glad you like it."

Something had happened. But she was at a loss as to what.

"I do," she finally said. "I love it..." She paused, hoping he might continue, but clearly the moment had passed. "Now, shall we get some work done?"

"We?"

"I brought some of my reports down. I thought I might read them in one of your fluffy chairs by your fire... unless you'd rather I not..."

"No! No, I... that's... I'd love for you to stay."

She raised up on her toes and pressed a kiss to his lips before retrieving her papers from his chair and settling by the fire. He moved to his desk and shot her another small smile before diving back into his reports. The chairs, arranged to face each other next to the fire, allowed her to glance over at him occasionally. Several times throughout the evening, she found his eyes already turned in her direction, a distant look clouding his expression. She wondered if she were distracting him or if he were thinking of something else entirely.

Eventually, her pile of unread reports dwindled. Giving in to the lateness of the hour, she began preparing to head back to her quarters when Cullen let out a pleased shout.

"Ha! Evana, look at this." He quickly crossed the small space between them and crouched at the arm of her chair. "The smugglers we interrogated gave up the red templars' main source of lyrium. It's located in the Dales, near a town called Sahrnia. Destroying the mine there will cripple Samson's operations."

She couldn't help smiling at his enthusiasm. "Excellent! I'll investigate the mine on the way to the Western Approach."

"Destroying their source of lyrium will be a loss Samson won't soon forget!"

"Indeed. And we'll be taking out Corypheus' main source of troops. If we can break down the red templars and the Grey Wardens, he'll have to start all over. We'll have him at a disadvantage. We should call a war council meeting for tomorrow and discuss logistics."

"Yes," he agreed eagerly. "The sooner the better. I already sent Malia away, though..."

Evana stood from the chair. "Oh, I'm done with my first round of reports, so I was thinking of heading back to my quarters anyway. I'll stop by Josie's office on the way and let her know."

Cullen was still kneeling beside the chair, so she leaned down to kiss him. It was a strange feeling to be the one bending down instead of straining to reach up to him. The amulet swung back and forth between them, and he broke from her lips to catch it and look at it again. A smirk slowly spread across his face. She placed a final kiss on his smirking lips and backed away, smiling.

"Goodnight, Commander," she murmured.

"Goodnight, Inquisitor," he answered in a low, silky voice that sorely tested her restraint.

Overcoming the urge to run back to him, she turned and left him to his work. As she made her way back to the great hall, she paused in the empty rotunda, noting the all the things so quintessentially Solas - books open and stacked on tables, bundles of paper filled with notes, elven artifacts strewn in all corners, paints stashed under scaffolding - still hovering in the silence, waiting for his return.

The longer he stayed away, the less likely it was he would return. A nomad like him would have no compunction about leaving these items behind - leaving them all behind. A strange and uncomfortable ache pierced her heart, and she hurried out of the room. "Hey there, Snowflake," Varric called to her as she entered the hall. "Care to share what was so important earlier this evening?"

Evana blushed and sat down next to Varric with a huff. "I'd forgotten something in my room. And I needed it for this."

She picked up the chain and held it out so Varric could see the amulet. It was small, only a little bigger than the coin itself, but the gold and silverite embellishments shone brightly in the candlelight making it almost shimmer. He let out a low whistle.

"That is something. Where'd you get it?"

She blushed a deeper shade of red. "I'll give you one guess."

"Curly?" She nodded, and Varric shook his head in disbelief. "Every time I think I've got him figured out, he goes and does something like this. You'll have to show it to her in person, because Hawke won't believe it otherwise."

Evana laughed and then sobered. "Speaking of... We'll be discussing the timeline for marching on Adamant tomorrow. We may be stopping in the Dales to shut down a red lyrium mine on the way, so we'll have to leave sooner rather than later. Are you prepared?"

"Bianca and I are at your service and ecstatic for another chance to destroy more of that sick shit, Snowflake. Just say the word."

"Good. I'll update you tomorrow. I have to go speak with Josie."

"Oh, yeah. Don't keep her waiting. She'll probably die from swooning."

She gave him a serious look. "You know, she just might."

Leaving him with a quick wink, she walked to Josie's office. The ambassador was still working at her desk, as promised.

"Inquisit- I mean... Evana. You said you had... Oh!"

Evana had merely held up the amulet as she'd done for Varric, and Josie was transfixed. She rushed out from behind her desk to examine the amulet up close.

"Oh, this is so perfect! So symbolic! And Cullen had it made for you?"

"Yes. He commissioned it from Harritt. He assured me he had little to do with the design of the amulet, but it's really the coin that's important to me anyway."

Josie furrowed her brow. "The coin? Oh, there in the middle! What's the significance of the coin?" "It was his lucky coin. His brother gave it to him right before he left for templar training. Now he's given it to me - that's what the trip was for. Or part of the reason anyway. He took me to a lake he used to go to when he was a child and gave it to me. For luck. So I always come back to him."

Josie let out a long, wistful sigh. "So romantic. Cullen is a much more complicated man than I gave him credit for."

Evana smiled as Josie continued to look over the amulet, and then remembered her charge from Cullen. "Not to switch too abruptly to business matters, but I also wanted to tell you that Cullen wishes to have a war council meeting tomorrow to discuss taking out Samson's red lyrium supply. Can you let Leliana know?"

"Of course. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"Not tonight. It's been a long day, so I think I'll turn in. I'll see you in the morning."

Josie wished her a good night, and Evana headed upstairs, her mind still racing from the implications of the last few days. Most particularly, she couldn't stop thinking about that small moment when Cullen had seemed to want to say... something. As she prepared for bed, a mixture of excitement and panic welled up in her chest. If his demeanor was any indication, it was important. She didn't know what had stopped him, so she could only hope that he would try to speak with her some other time. Creators knew she had a few things she needed to bring up with him as well, and she hadn't managed it so far. They had so little time together - so few stolen, happy moments - bringing up difficult topics seemed cruel to both of them. Her bungled attempt by the lake was evidence enough of that. Perhaps that's what had stopped him? Perhaps he hadn't wanted to ruin the moment with a difficult discussion?

With a deep sigh, she crawled between her thick blankets, still pondering the question as she drifted into the Fade.

 **

 At the war council meeting, they'd decided that, instead of the Hissing Wastes, Evana would set off for the Emprise Du Lion - to Sahrnia - to investigate the mines and then meet the Inquisition forces at Griffon Wing Keep three weeks after they'd all departed. It would take the army at least that long to get there, marching several hundreds of miles across Orlais and picking up a contingent of Orlesian chevaliers at Halamshiral on the way. Cullen's forces would join with the troops already full to bursting out of the Keep. With the help of the new smith, Morgan, they would attack Adamant in approximately one month's time.

The next few days were full of preparing for the coming assault. Cullen worked tirelessly through every waking hour, and though she spent many hours drinking tea with him and working in one of his chairs by the fire, she felt as if she hadn't really seen him in days.

So she focused on her duties and caught up on her own work. She visited with nobles at Josie's behest, practiced magic daily with Dorian - and once with Vivienne, though that didn't go well - and finally met with Bull and an elven Qunari ambassador about a rather shocking offer to ally with the Qunari. They all agreed to wait until after the assault to make any moves, but it was an intriguing offer to say the least. And a risky one. Trusting the Qunari didn't come naturally for good reason.

Evana had also continued her combat training with Cassandra. Now that Evana had expressed an interest in becoming a Knight Enchanter, the Seeker, satisfied with her competency at hand-to-hand, had switched to teaching her sword play. Cullen often tried to join them for a few minutes here and there, but something always pulled him away. He'd shoot her an apologetic half-smile and head off to deal with whatever emergency had cropped up in the ten minutes since he'd left his desk.

Now, as she worked through the new forms with the Seeker only three days before leaving for the Emprise, worry ate at the back of her mind that they'd still heard nothing from her clan or Leliana's scouts. She'd known it would take time but had hoped for some news, even if just to say that things were progressing. Despite how fervently she tried to ignore it, the lack of communication left her to wonder and even, in her most honest moments, to despair. In this case, no news usually meant bad news.

And as she sat in her chair by the fire in Cullen’s office later that night, she mentally prepared herself for the worst when Harvil arrived with a message from Leliana.

"Sister Leliana requests your immediate presence in the war room, Your Worship. And yours as well, Commander. She said to tell you it's about Wycome."

Evana shot a nervous look at Cullen, but he was already walking out from behind his desk, holding out his hand for her to join him. They walked quickly, hand-in-hand, to the war room. She didn't even care what the nobles might say if they saw. His hand was the only thing keeping her grounded. Leliana started speaking before Cullen had even closed the door behind them.

"Inquisitor, I've just received word from my agent in Wycome. I thought you'd like to know as soon as possible that your clan is safe... for the moment. As with each time we act, it seems the peace is tenuous, but they should be secure for the time being."

Evana reached the table and immediately slumped over it. Holding herself up with her arms, her head dangled as a powerful, weak-kneed relief washed over her and left her reeling. Despite the warning in Leliana's voice, a huge weight seemed to lift from Evana’s shoulders. She breathed deeply.

"What happened?" she asked when she’d finally mastered herself. "Did they get inside the city?"

"Yes, the clan was smuggled inside the city and ended up joining forces with the city elves. They organized a strike at the Duke and his red lyrium supplies. The humans in the city quickly joined with the elves once they saw the contaminated wells. The Duke and his retinue - some of whom were Venatori - are now dead. For now, the Dalish are heros of Wycome, but the nobles that fled the fighting will undoubtedly return at some point."

A small silence joined them as Evana tried to process both the information and her reaction to it. Josephine piped up.

"What can we do in the meantime?"

Leliana placed one of her markers near Wycome on the map. "My agents will remain in the area and continue to watch and listen. Perhaps a note to your Keeper that she should keep our agents apprised of any issues would be helpful?"

Leliana was looking at her now. Evana tried to stand up straight, willing her feeble legs to hold her.

"Of course, I'll write a message first thing in the morning. Thank you again for all your efforts to address not only the Venatori threat but also the danger to my clan. This has been a nerve-wracking situation. Is there anything else I should know?"

"No, Inquisitor. That was all for now."

"Very good. I'll... be in my quarters if anyone needs me."

"Yes, Inquisitor."

She flicked her eyes to Cullen and gave him weak smile as she passed, but his gaze held a mixture of sympathy and vague confusion that she couldn't handle. The strength of her feelings threatening to overwhelm her, she looked away, walking quickly through to the great hall.

At her own door, she nodded stiffly to the guards - a new addition since their win at Orlais. Leliana had insisted that some Orlesians would likely put out contracts on her life for supporting Celene and exiling Gaspard. The guards were an extra precaution, and a good one, but tonight, she wished they hadn't been there to witness how she was falling apart. She didn't want anyone to see her so out of control.

Once past the guards and through the door, Evana dashed up the steps at full speed. When she finally reached her bed, tired and out of breath, she fell into the soft blankets and listened to the rushing of blood through her ears.

Her clan was safe for now. It should make her happy, of course, but she hadn't expected this level of relief, the physical weakness in her body, the trembling rush of adrenaline. Why this time? Why had this not happened the many other times her clan had been saved from danger?

A ball of guilt wound around itself in her gut. Was it because she had convinced herself she wasn't that connected anymore? That what happened to them was only of cursory concern? The clan's welfare would always be important, but she hadn't allowed herself think of them as more important than anyone else for quite some time now.

Clearly, she'd just been lying to herself. Tears slipped down her cheeks as she thought of the clan children, likely scared out of their minds at the sudden move to such an unfamiliar place - a city of all places - and the imminent danger. How many clan members had lost their lives in assassinating the Duke and his Venatori? Five? Ten? Twenty? Clan Lavellan wasn't as small as some of the other Dalish clans, but the loss of ten or twenty in such a tight-knit community would be devastating.

She knew that from experience.

And now she'd done it to them again. Her involvement in these shemlen affairs had put her clan in danger. Likely they blamed her even more than before. The tears flowed more freely now as she curled into a ball on her bed. Deep sobs wracked her body even as she tried to tell herself they were safe, they were protected. For now.

The sound of footsteps on her stairs forced her to try to control herself. She sat up and realized the only light in the room was the roaring fire.

"Evana?" came a soft, familiar voice from the stairs.

She quickly wiped her face with her sleeve and met Cullen at the top of the stairs. He immediately pulled her into a fierce hug. He'd apparently left his armor downstairs somewhere, and the firm reality of his body against hers calmed her more than anything else could.

"What's wrong, vhenan?" he asked softly.

How could she explain this to him, of all people? It was too much.

"I- I can't... please, just hold me?"

Cullen swept her into his arms and carried her back to her bed. Instead of tucking her in, however, he sat next to her, pulled off his boots and then crawled into the bed beside her. She pulled herself up against him and nestled her face in the crook of his neck. His arm wrapped around her and gently stroked her back as she entwined her legs with his.

"Stay with me?" she whispered tentatively. She felt him swallow and tense a little, and she instantly felt guilty. "We don't need to do anything, just sleep... or if you'd rather not-"

He tightened his arm around her gently. "It's not that. I... I want to stay. It's only that I often have... violent nightmares. I wouldn't wish to disturb you... or... hurt you."

She pulled her head back to look at him in the dim glow of the firelight. "Ir abelas, vhenan. I didn't know it was that bad. Is that why you don't sleep much?"

"Yes. That and the insomnia due to the withdrawal. The tea helps with that. It's nothing to worry about. I just want to ensure you are well."

Evana reached up and quickly wiped away a few extra tears that escaped from her eyes at his kindness. "It's nothing, vhenan. I'm fine. Please, if you need to go..."

Cullen pulled her back to him. "I can stay as long as you need me."

Forever, then? But she didn't dare say it. She smiled into his neck and breathed in the heady smell of leather and smoke and oakmoss salve mixed with his own musky scent. She would never get tired of it.

Her mind began to wander as she let the rhythmic sound of his breathing lull her into a doze. The amulet slid out of her tunic and thudded gently onto the bed - a reminder of his claim on her. She knew he hadn't meant it or the coin as a proposal, but her clan would see it that way if they knew. She couldn't help feeling the importance of it - and more than him offering it, she'd accepted it. He didn't understand, didn't know, the significance. But it had been significant to her. It was her final renunciation of her clan and of her duty to the People. She was his, to the exclusion of all others, and he was hers. As important as her clan was, he was more important to her now.

Perhaps that was part of this sudden guilt. She had chosen a human, even after all the lessons from Keeper about her duty as an elf - the duty to procreate with another elf, to strengthen the People and not sully the bloodline.

But how could she not choose him? His quiet strength in the face of all his responsibilities, his compassion for the weak and needy, his overwhelmingly generous heart... despite his flaws, it would be madness to reject a man like Cullen. Not to mention how her own heart yearned for him when they were apart and how full and content she felt at his side.

The idea of a person filling her in such a way had always seemed ridiculous to her. She'd heard couples in her clan speak of such things with their chosen bondmate. Now she finally understood what they meant, but it was with her human lover, not an elven bondmate. They would be shunned by both humans and elves.

Despite the assurances of the Champion, the open hostility for elf and human liaisons from both elves and humans troubled her. Not as much for herself, necessarily, but for Cullen. She was used to the derision of others, but the hateful messages Cullen had already received were proof enough that she had reason to worry for him as well. The walls of Skyhold and the kind people within those walls insulated them from prying eyes and most of the derogatory remarks. But if they defeated Corypheus, what would become of the Inquisition? The insults and condescension of the Winter Palace paled in comparison to the harsh realities of a world in which she was no longer needed. A world in which she was simply an elf with a human lover.

She didn't worry for him finding another position. If they survived this ordeal, he would have his pick of any of the top military positions in Thedas. But that didn't guarantee an upstart elf mage with a useless mark would be welcomed with him. Would it decrease his opportunity? Would he be openly ridiculed for choosing her? Would his family reject her... as hers would him? Another thought pushed in from somewhere deep in her subconscious, and she felt her pulse and breathing quicken as her conscious mind recognized it.

What about any children they might have?

Children of elves and humans were essentially human. Half elven people could pass themselves off as human if no one knew who their parents were. But her child - Cullen's child... everyone in Thedas would know the son or daughter of the Inquisition Commander and the Herald of Andraste. She could hope that their titles and positions of respect would mitigate some of the discrimination he or she would face, but that wasn't the only worry.

What if their child were a mage?

She would never allow any child of hers to go to a Circle. Not ever. But if the Circles were reinstated, would he try to force the issue? What did he even believe now that the mages had been with them for months without incident? His words by the lake haunted her - "Whatever I fear of magic..."

Which meant he still feared magic. As well he would after having experienced the worst of mages. But how could she be sure how he would react to magic from his own child, especially as the child was learning to control his/her powers? The process could be messy, and extra precautions had to be taken to make sure a young mage didn't harm themselves or others. But the Dalish knew all this and had processes in place to mitigate the chance for harm. Would he even allow her the opportunity to prove she could train a mage without interference?

As long as she led the Inquisition, she would work to keep the mages free. She would work with Fiona to create safe processes and education for young mages. Up to now, Cullen had always supported her decisions, even if he didn't agree with them. But would he shun that path when she was no longer in a position of power? When it was just her asking him to believe in a world where mages could be free?

And how could she bring up such subjects? It seemed even more impossible than talking about her clan right now. They'd been together for months, known and trusted each other for months before that, but in reality, they saw little of each other. Everything still felt so fragile, so new.

Evana gently wrapped a slender arm around his waist and snuggled further into his body. She felt him shift slightly. His breathing was even, but she couldn't tell if that meant he was asleep or simply relaxed. This was the first time she'd really had the opportunity to find out.

"Cullen?" she whispered as softly as she could manage.

The answer was immediate, and his voice reverberated through her body as she pressed against him. "I'm awake."

"May I ask you something?"

"Always."

She tried to think of how to lead into her questions, but couldn't think of anything relevant. So, she just asked the first question and braced herself for the answer.

"The Inquisition won't last forever. If we survive... what will you do when this is over?"

It took him a moment to answer. She didn't dare lift her head to look in his face. Finally, he spoke hesitantly.

"To be honest, I hadn't given it much thought until recently. I'm not used to having so many... possibilities."

She hoped he would continue, but he seemed content to let the response rest there. She couldn't help pushing just a little.

"You could go to Orlais. Be Celene's military advisor. I'm sure the chevaliers would follow you around the Winter Palace like loyal little Mabari puppies."

Cullen chuckled weakly, and then she felt him shiver slightly. "I'd be perfectly happy never again setting foot in the Winter Palace. It wasn't the gossip and backstabbing - I know what the Game entails. But the indifference to it all... no... I don't think there's anything in Orlais for me."

"At least there was dancing."

Cullen laughed outright. "Or an attempt at it, anyway."

Evana shrugged. "I thought you did well."

"Well, I'm grateful for your poor taste in dance partners."

It hadn't been the direction she'd hoped to go, but she was pleased to have made him laugh. In the small pause that followed, he began rubbing small circles on her back, and she had to force herself to focus on her questions instead of his hands.

He hadn't "given it much thought until recently." Did that mean he was thinking about it because of her? Or was there another reason?

"You've certainly become more... Er... popular since our time with the Empress."

He actually groaned at this. "Don't remind me. Leliana is currently collecting all the marriage proposals into a file so she can use me for bait in her little intrigues. You heard her at the war council meeting a few days ago - telling me to 'hush' and 'just look pretty.' I might as well be a piece of meat."

Evana snickered a little, but sobered immediately. "You've received other types of messages since then as well. Not so nice ones."

He went completely still. "Leliana told you about that?"

"I asked."

"How did you know?" he asked, confusion tingeing his voice.

Evana finally pulled away to look at him, propped herself on her elbow, and smiled at him sadly. "I'm not naive, Cullen. I'm a mage. On top of that, I'm an elf, and incidents like the one at the inn are not a new experience for me. It would be odd if the rumors about us didn't generate hateful messages. I know you don't care, but a lot of other people do."

Cullen let out a violent puff of air followed by a vehement, "Fuck them. All of them."

Evana couldn't stifle her surprised laughter nor the teasing in her tone. "Creators! Such a dirty mouth, Commander!"

He gave her a half smile, but the look of anger mixed with sadness remained. He reached up to caress her cheek, and she closed her eyes to revel in the feel of his calloused fingers. A tendril of heat shot through her belly, but she ignored it. Now was certainly not the time for that.

"I mean it," he affirmed. "They can take their unwanted and unwarranted opinions and shove them up their own backsides. I hate that you have to deal with that. I hate that I can't always shield you from it, though I will whenever I can. I don't care what they say or do. You are..." Cullen took a deep breath and then sighed. "They have no idea what they're talking about."

She smiled into his palm and then kissed it gently. She did feel a little better about their future together as human and elf. But again, the moment in which she could reasonably bring up the mage and templar issue seemed to pass. She lay down, and after a time, Cullen's breathing turned deeper. Every so often, he'd murmur something nonsensical through an exhalation. She grinned into his chest, letting the sounds soothe her. It was late, and as much as she wanted to stay awake to enjoy this time, her eyes eventually slid closed in sleep.

 **

 The next morning was a new experience for them both. She woke to the feel of his fingers gently tracing the lines of her vallaslin and smiled before she even opened her eyes when she realized that he'd stayed with her. She cracked an eye to see him watching her.

"Sorry. You looked so beautiful, I couldn't resist touching you."

She felt a bit of heat spread across her face. "No bad dreams?"

"Not one. I think perhaps giving you that coin was the best idea I've ever had. You are far more lucky for me than it ever was. And if it will keep you safe..."

He moved in to kiss her, and she turned away laughing.

"Cullen, my breath is awful!"

He grinned at her and shrugged as well as he could while lying entwined with her on the bed. "So is mine."

She leaned forward and placed a closed-mouth kiss on his lips. "There. Now, we should get up before other people do. There's already enough gossip as it is."

"Gossip?" he asked innocently.

She shot him a disbelieving look as she tried to move away from him. He held onto her tightly, and she flopped back on the bed next to him.

"Yes, gossip. The kind where certain people in our inner circle wonder aloud in my presence exactly how 'well endowed' our Commander is."

Cullen blushed furiously and finally let her go. "Ah... yes... I can't imagine who that might be..."

"I just tell him I don't have any information to add to the discussion as of yet, but from my limited experience, our Commander seems to be well fit in that area."

She hadn't thought it possible, but his face turned even redder. He sat up quickly and cleared his throat.

"You are teasing me, aren’t you?"

She got out of the bed and took a large drink of water, swishing it around to get rid of the sour taste in her mouth, then handed the mug to Cullen. Her tunic and breeches were crumpled from sleep. She usually put on warm pajamas and a metric ton of blankets to sleep, but Cullen heated the bed impossibly well. Her own personal hot water bottle... only much more handsome. She suddenly felt a little too warm.

"Well, I'm sure you know... there is gossip about us. But, yes, I am teasing about that particular scenario." Sort of.

She looked over at the tub, and a devilish grin spread across her face. "However, let me tell you... you haven't seen anything, yet."

She walked to the tub and called down a controlled wall of ice directly into the tub. She immediately hit the ice with a warming spell. It melted with a hiss, filling the room with a light haze of steam. Turning back to him, she walked as seductively as possible to the middle of the room.

"Would you like to watch me bathe, Commander?"

She saw the muscles work in his jaw as he swallowed hard and then clenched his jaw. She also noticed his hands close into fists as he narrowed his eyes and shook his head at her. His voice sounded strained as he replied.

"What if I said yes?"

Without a word - and with only a faint blush - she pulled her tunic over her head to reveal the intricately crafted breast band Josie had picked out for her in Val Royeaux. The barely-there fabric, made of delicately embroidered vines over sheer fabric, left no doubt about her state of arousal. She took a step toward him, dragging the tunic behind her.

"I'm undecided. Should I tell you it comes with matching smalls? Or tell you instead that I rarely wear smalls at all?"

Cullen let out a strangled growl as he vaulted himself off the bed, closed the distance between them in two strides and covered her laughing mouth with his own. His trembling hands smoothed over her bare skin seductively, causing her to sigh lustily into his mouth as the waves of pleasure washed over her. Then, once he had her trembling with need, he abruptly pulled his mouth from hers and walked away without a word, shooting her a wicked smirk as he disappeared behind the banister.

 **

 Later that afternoon, as she walked down the stairs from Cullen's office toward the stables after pulling him away to kiss him breathless as payback, she noticed the gates lifting. Something stirred inside her - a flash of familiarity. She paused to watch, expecting yet another pesky group of nobles. Instead, a lone silhouette, lithe of step and carrying a beautiful elven staff, appeared in the archway. Evana’s breath rushed out of her as if she'd been punched.

She couldn't help it. She ran for him.

He met her rush with open arms and wrapped them around her protectively as she pressed against him and squeezed her arms around his waist. Then, suddenly aware of the people around them, she blushed hotly as she quickly pulled back and put some distance between them. No need to start any false rumors...

"Solas! I can't believe... I mean..." She laughed at herself then continued, "I guess I owe Varric an ale. I wasn't sure you were coming back."

"Neither was I... for a time. But only a short time. You were a true friend. You did everything you could to help. I could hardly abandon you now."

"Where did you go?"

"I found a quiet spot and went to sleep. I visited the place in the Fade where my friend used to be. It's empty, but there are stirrings of energy in the Void. Someday, something new may grow there."

"I hope it's not too difficult to speak of... but I've been wondering... What happens when a spirit dies?"

"It isn't the same as for mortals. The energy of spirits returns to the Fade. If the idea giving the spirit form is strong, or if the memory has shaped other spirits, it may someday rise again."

"You're saying your friend might... come back?"

Solas shook his head sorrowfully. "No, not really. A spirit's natural state is peaceful semi-existence. It is rare to be able to reflect reality. Something similar might form one day, but it might have a different personality. It would likely not remember me."

He paused and looked away from her. Pain flashed across his face, but in a moment, his serene expression returned. If she didn't know him so well, she would have missed it entirely.

"It would not be the friend I knew."

Her heart ached for him. She knew what it was to mourn.

"The next time you have to mourn, you don't need to be alone. You have friends here."

His head dropped. "It's been so long since I could trust anyone."

"I know."

She reached out to touch his arm lightly. The gesture was brief and meant to be comforting, but he looked to her hand and then watched it depart with an intense expression. Looking up again, his eyes burned into her, and she felt another, different flush of heat across her cheeks. Unbidden, their practicing session all those months ago in the Hinterlands flashed through her mind as he tilted his head in acknowledgement.

"I will work on it. And... thank you."

"Oh... o-of course."

"I'll be in my study should you need anything."

She tilted her head in return and watched him depart, her cheeks only now returning to their normal paleness. She needed to be more careful. In her excitement, she'd let down her guard, and that thing - the awkwardness she'd been so careful to avoid since the early days of the Inquisition - had happened again. Her newfound closeness with her friends never caused such difficulties with Varric nor even with the ever flirty Iron Bull, but somehow, the same actions with Solas were taken in a different way than she intended. It didn't help that a part of her seemed to reach out for him any time he was near. She found it disconcerting, and much like the dream the night after that strained practice session, it left her ill at ease. As glad as she was to have him back, a thought rose up in the back of her mind that perhaps it wasn't the best thing after all. He still had his secrets - that much she knew. But he also seemed to have a small hold on her now that she couldn't shake as easily as she had in Haven.

It was too much. She needed a distraction. She'd told Iron Bull she'd drink with him to celebrate the dragon slaying, but in all the preparations, she'd yet to do it. And tonight would be her last chance for some time.

Yes. Drinking myself into a stupor sounds good right about now. I should go find Dorian. He always approves of drinking in excess.

She headed to the library to find the Tevinter mage, passing through the great hall to the stairs leading directly to the second floor in order to avoid Solas' study. And all the while, a slowly dawning realization caused a leaden ball to form in the pit of her stomach.

Maybe... maybe Solas thought of her as more than a friend?