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Isii stirred, moaning groggily as she felt movement on the bed, her blankets slowly slipping down her side. Fingers traced soft trails along her back, caressing her into consciousness as her eyes drifted open. She turned, peering over her shoulder, her mouth lifting into a sleepy grin as she saw Solas laying beside her. Firelight danced across the shadows of her quarters, the fireplace no doubt brought to life by his magic, the air pleasantly warm as she rolled over, letting her blanket fall further below her hips.
“This is a nice surprise,” she murmured, eyes still half-lidded as she smiled at him. He returned the expression and yet said nothing, silently studying her, his features softening. He was a welcomed sight, stripped down to his breeches and she took advantage of his bared skin, running an idle hand against his chest. “What are you doing here?”
“You have said your door was always open to me. I hope I’m not being too presumptuous,” he began, his brows lifting. He leaned over, kissing her shoulder softly as he drew his arm around her. “I hesitated to wake you, but I couldn’t stop thinking about you...”
There was heat in his voice as he whispered against her skin. Isii giggled, scooting closer. She let her thigh brush against him and he let out a sigh, tightening his grip on her, already half-hard as his hips shifted. “I’m more than willing to help ease you of your preoccupation, ma fen,” she teased, pinching her lip between her teeth as she laughed. She pulled him into a kiss and it was blissful. His hunger was gentle, no less passionate for the reverent way in which he touched her. He pressed her body to his, his lips consuming her giggling as she hooked her leg against his side, humming happily as his tongue flicked against her own. His hand rested against her back and then slipped lower, leaving a shivering trail with the lightness of his touch, tickling the back of her thigh. She felt movement behind her, another hand on her hip, the warmth of something, someone, pressing against her back. Isii stiffened, startled as she pulled away from his lips, turning her head as her brow furrowed. She barely had a chance to recognize the younger man’s face hovering inches from her own before Fen’Harel slated his mouth over hers.
She whimpered against his kiss, whining a confused protest as his tongue sank past her teeth. He pulled himself closer, trapping her body between the two of them as he wove his fingers into strands of her hair, angling her head back. She felt Solas press a soft kiss to her throat and she nearly jumped out of her skin, startled as her back arched, her hands pressing against the younger man’s chest to free her lips. She studied them both, eyes wide as she frowned.
“What is this?”
Solas guided her chin, stroking his thumb along her cheek. “We’ve come to an arrangement.”
She stared at him, gawking. “You… what?”
Fen’Harel let out a purring laugh, his lips hovering by her ear. “It does seem rather absurd that I would fight with myself, does it not? We are the same man, after all…”
“I want you no less now than when I was younger,” Solas whispered, his eyes darting briefly to his younger self. “More, in fact, though he would beg to differ.”
“We both want you,” Fen’Harel stressed. He shifted, grinding his hips against her backside, causing her to shudder as he forced her to rock between the two of them. “And it is more than clear that you want both of us…”
“Are you…” Isii gaped, unable to form the thought, let alone the words. Her eyes darted from one face to the other, paired like mirror images with only the slightest differences between them. The younger one smirked, brow arched, long dark hair shaved short at its base and held back loosely; the other possessing an older face with kinder features, subtly aged by his experiences with a distinctive scar on his brow. She stared at Solas, eyes wide with confusion. “You’re not actually alright with this, are you?”
Fen’Harel laughed brightly. “See? She thinks you’re too uptight, Old Man.”
Solas’s face softened as he dragged his thumb against her lips, turning her to face him fully. “If this is what you desire,” he began earnestly, “I am more than happy to oblige.”
“Besides,” Fen’Harel purred, “the prospect of having an extra set of hands to make you squirm is oh so very appealing.” He gripped her chin, twisting her head back, taking her lips once more in a possessive kiss.
This was a dream. It had to be. There was no other explanation; no way she could possibly conceive of this happening. The two of them could barely hold a conversation without snapping at each other. The idea that they would agree to this and both invite themselves into her bed, half-naked and eager, was uncharacteristic in every sense of the word.
Isii tested her theory, opening her eyes as he drew away from her mouth, running his tongue against her throat. She studied the room, tried to see flaws in her recollection of her quarters. If this was the Fade, something would be imperfect. Soon, the facade began to slip. She could see that certain items were shifted out of place or missing altogether. The details of her vision began to blur as they reached her periphery and both versions of Fen’Harel suffered from the same effect. If she didn’t focus on the two men, if she looked past them, the characteristics of their forms grew indistinct. Their touch felt undeniably real in every way, but she could see the Fade for what it was.
“You’re not really here, are you?” she asked, though it was more of a statement than a question. “Neither one of you.”
Fen’Harel’s laughter rumbled low against her spine. “Is that going to stop you?” he growled, biting her ear before drawing the tip between his lips. She shuddered, arching against him, against them both, her nails pressing instinctively into Solas’s chest.
A brief pang of fear struck her. As confident as she was that neither of these men were truly the Dread Wolf, that didn’t eliminate the possibility that one or both of them could be demons. She’d been tricked by Desire before in her youth - and would this not be the method it would use on her? Give her something she could never have in waking? Seduce her using the face of someone she trusts? She tried to calm herself, searching for the signs. She knew the subtle scent and taste of Desire; easy to miss and yet undeniable if you knew to look for it. She took a deep breath, drawing the young man into a kiss. She scraped her teeth against Fen’Harel’s lip, tasting him as he hummed happily. Even as she focused, there was no sign that he was anything other than a figment. She broke away from him, kissing Solas with the same rough treatment, feeling his hands tighten against her, drawing her closer. Nothing. No metallic flavor, no slightly sour scent. The two of them were little more than creations of her own imagination.
My rather perverse imagination, she mused.
Solas moaned, trying to draw her deeper into the kiss before Fen’Harel pulled on her arm, forcing her to roll towards him. She objected for only a moment as the younger man’s lips consumed her own. Fen’Harel’s kisses were always rougher; demanding though not unkind. Solas’s lips were slower, softer. He would caress her, taste her, pleasure her with silent praises. As much as she enjoyed it, there was something undeniably thrilling about how his younger self gripped her with such unrestrained desire. She could feel Solas moving behind her, kissing a slow trail along her shoulders. He brushed her hair back, tickling curls sliding against sensitive skin before his teeth scraped her nape, making her shiver.
Fen’Harel broke away, his lips lingering by her own as he spoke. “You haven’t been able to stop thinking about this, have you? Ever since your eavesdropping planted the thought in your mind…” He grinned. “Did you really think we couldn’t hear you hiding around the corner, listening in?”
“I also distinctly remember him punching you in the face for suggesting we do this,” Isii quipped. Solas chuckled against her skin as Fen’Harel’s eyes narrowed.
The younger man’s hands went to her shift, slipping under the hem of her nightclothes as he smirked. “I can be very, very persuasive.”
It was nothing more than a dream. It couldn’t hurt to indulge in it, could it? It wasn’t as if Isii had never had sexual dreams about Solas before. Nothing quite like this… but she was allowed to have her own fantasies, wasn’t she?
She allowed him to lift her nightclothes and together the two men slipped the cloth over her head, quickly turning their attention to the newly bared skin. Solas feathered kisses on her neck, his fingers gliding along her sides, down to her outer thighs, brushing places he knew would make her tremble. Fen’Harel cradled her jaw in his hands, taking her mouth with his own once more, his nails raking against her scalp as he sank them into her hair. There was something strangely coordinated in this as the two men worked in tandem. Solas would make her shudder, breaths hitched as her back arched and Fen’Harel would draw her closer, rocking his body against her own, pressing her back into the older man’s touch. Hips rolled and she moved between the two, able to feel their need as they trapped her between them. She passed her lips from one to the other, taking each in turn; the youth’s rough bites soothed by Solas’s tenderness. She could feel a familiar ache between her legs, a pained longing to be touched, to have some release from the heat building in her flesh. Fen’Harel sucked along the swell of her breast, biting hard and she hissed, gripping his shoulders as her head snapped forward. He looked up at her, a sly smirk spreading across his lips.
“Where do we begin, then?” he asked, his eyes flicking to his older self. “Do we take turns?” His gaze returned to hers, dark and mischievous as his brow lifted. “Or do you wish to feel us both at once, pet?”
She gawked wordlessly, suddenly overwhelmed by the possibilities. Solas wrapped his arm around her, drawing her back against him. “Patience,” he murmured softly. “There is no need to rush.” He kissed her shoulder, his hand slipping gently between her thighs, curling his fingers against her smalls. “You deserve your pleasure first, do you not?” he whispered, his lips brushing the spot just behind her ear that he knew would make her coo with delight. He kissed her cheek, dipping his hand into her smallclothes, teasing her folds apart with a light touch. She jerked at the sudden stimulation, stifling a quiet whine as she bit her lip, his fingers easing into her. She could feel his breath against her neck as he exhaled, groaning softly. Fen’Harel’s smile widened.
“Ase irmes?”
“Ir’vin,” Solas moaned, pressing deeper. Isii stifled a cry, arching against his hand. His touch was gentle, so gentle and yet firm as he explored her, stroking in languid, teasing thrusts. She closed her eyes, her lips falling open, soft breaths quickening with the pace of his fingers.
“Sildear on, ma haurasha?” Fen’Harel’s voice was like silk as he murmured to her. He cupped her cheek, angling her head as he kissed her throat and she let out a sigh, nodding. He sucked her lip between his teeth, his fingers trailing slowly along the slope of her breast. She quivered, whimpering as she felt the subtle tingle of magic trailing from his fingers. It began like a whisper on her skin, fluttering and twisting into her flesh, a trickling shiver of heat that made her clench around Solas’s fingers, jerking her hips back against his arousal. She could nearly hear the smile behind Solas's heavy breath as his touch curled inside her.
“Again,” the older man hissed. Fen’Harel grinned and Isii felt another wave, stronger this time, energy surging into her skin; stretching, expanding, unfolding inside her. Solas quickened his fingers and soon she felt the heat of his magic doubling within her. Every cell, every nerve-ending, the entirety of her being was alight with sensation, pure and unadulterated pleasure coursing through her like a heartbeat. She couldn’t keep from crying out, mouth slackened with lust, straining against their hold as her body began to shake.
“I will never tire of the sounds you make, pet,” Fen’Harel moaned, rolling one of her nipples between his fingertips as she let out a mewling whine. He laughed as she squirmed, rolling her hips wantonly against Solas’s touch.
“Vhenan!” she gasped, her body quivering with each thrust. The press of their magic was maddening, throbbing in her core, twisting and lifting and surging towards a climax that she now desperately chased. His fingers slid along her folds, barely brushing her clit and she ground against him, trying to push him to where she needed to be touched.
“I think she’s trying to tell you something,” Fen’Harel chuckled darkly.
“Solas! Solas, please…”
“Use my real name,” he hissed.
“Cry out for both of us.”
“Fen’Harel!” Solas rewarded her, wet fingers circling the tight bundle of nerves, the intensity of it nearly throwing her into a shriek. She shouted his name again, chanted it, plead with it as her release finally took her. She trembled, gasping, eyes closed as he drew out her orgasm, stealing her breath away with each delicate flick of his fingertips.
Drunk on sensation, her limbs still heavy with relief, Isii could do little more than whimper as Fen’Harel pulled away, dragging her with him, forcing a demanding kiss onto her lips. “On your knees, ma haurasha,” he growled through a grin, jerking her body up. She let him guide her into position, her arms soon wrapped around Solas’s shoulders as he knelt before her, kissing her, supporting her as his younger self angled her hips back. He nudged her knees apart roughly, tugging on the closure to his breeches and her breaths quickened, already aching with need for what she knew would come next. She felt the press of him on her slit for only a moment before he buried himself inside her, forcing her to cry out against Solas’s lips as she heard Fen’Harel curse. Groaning, he withdrew, gliding against her slick, sinking into her again. His fingers delved between her thighs, making her tremble with each stroke, his breaths shuddering each time she shook.
“Oh how did you ever say no to this, Old Man?” he rasped, rocking himself into her, guiding her hips back to meet each press. She could feel him curl against her body, the heat of his skin against her back. “She feels so divine.” His voice was breathy, heavy with pleasure as he hummed his approval. “By far the best I’ve ever taken to bed.”
Solas cupped her cheek, gazing down into her face, studying the line of her parted lips as she gasped, panting. “She is so much more than that,” he whispered before claiming her mouth again. She whimpered as he caressed her, soothing her through each sharp thrust. She worried the front of his breeches open, licking moans from his lips as her fingers curled around his length, stroking him. She wanted to see him, to feel him, to repay him for what he so eagerly gave. She savored each sound, the way his hips twitched under her grip, the way his breaths grew ragged as she twisted her hand, brushing his head against the base of her palm. She knew his body both past and present. She’d been to his bed as a god and as a wandering apostate. She knew how to touch him, how to make him growl against her lips, desperate in his need and soon he matched his younger self in a chorus of ecstatic desperation.
Hearing them both take pleasure from her, hearing their hitched breaths in sync with her own, feeling the writhing rhythm of their bodies moving together - it was intoxicating in a way she’d never imagined. Each thrust rocked her forward into Solas’s embrace, her face soon buried against his throat, pleading for Fen’Harel to go harder as she quickened the pace of her hand. Fingers glided over skin, slick with sweat, hands grasping, stroking, teasing, raking, yearning and hungry. She was full, stretched, bliss burning through her, climbing to what she thought would be her peak only to press on further, the tension within her growing to a maddening roar. She was drowning in this, in them, in magic and flesh and tongues and teeth until she broke, unbridled ecstasy coursing through every vein.
“Don’t you dare stop,” Fen’Harel growled. He gripped her hips with both hands, driving himself into her, summoning, casting, the obscene torment of his magic making her body flood with heat. Each thrust felt like its own climax and she keened, whimpering, unable to form any word but his name. He was close. She could hear it in his voice, feel it in the way he desperately buried himself within her. She tightened her grip, forcing a groan from Solas as he crushed his lips against hers. Fen’Harel let out a strained shout, stilling as he spilled inside her, gasping for breath.
There was only the slightest pause before Solas jerked her forward, dragging her into his lap. She let out a startled whine, able to do little more than hold on as he drove her hips down, pressing into her. He moaned, growling, snarling, aching and urgent, piercing and pulsing and close, so close, driven and chasing release. This was how she wanted him. This was how she always wanted him, pushed to the point where his control slipped, where the mask fell away, where his desire was laid bare.
“Once more,” he choked out. “Come for me again. Come with me. I need…” He gasped, gulping a breath, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her hips as she felt them begin to burn. “I need to feel you.”
There was nothing gradual, nothing gentle in the sudden pulse that tore through her as he cast. She threw her head back, mouth agape, lungs struggling to scream with no breath as she writhed, jerking, the strength of his hands being the only thing keeping her grounded. She clenched around him, thrashing against his hips as he came, her name spilling from his lips in rapturous praise.
They stilled then and she struggled to breathe, shaking even as he dispelled the energy that coursed through her. He cupped her jaw with both hands, forehead pressed to hers. “Breathe, vhenan,” he whispered. There was a calming chill on his fingertips and she melted against it, eyes closed as she allowed herself to collapse against him.
Once her breaths slowed, he lifted his head, studying her face. “Are you alright?” he asked, brushing a damp curl from her brow. “We weren’t too rough with you?”
Fen’Harel laughed, lounging back against her pillows, sated and grinning. “She’s not made of glass, Old Man. She can probably take more than what we gave her.”
Isii smiled softly. The question was rather absurd. This was a dream of her own making; of course everything felt good. But her reflection of Solas was an accurate one in that sense. She knew he would want to be certain of her well-being. She nodded to him, reassuring him with a kiss to his brow. How strange the Fade was, that she could taste the salt of his sweat even as she consciously knew none of it was real? Solas had told her once that the anchor granted her the ability to dream with more conscious control. She doubted he’d ever imagine she’d use that ability to dream up something like this.
Solas’s touch was gentle once more, delicate as he helped ease her off of him. She could do little more than crawl up the length of her bed, collapsing next to Fen’Harel. She felt as though she could sleep for days, relaxed and exhausted in equal measure. She let her eyes close, a soft smile on her lips as she let out a contented sigh.
“What do you want to bet she won’t tell either one of us about this little dalliance when she wakes?”
Isii chuckled at the young man’s comment. “Hush,” she chided, eyes still closed.
“Perhaps Solas would not be too pleased to hear of it,” he said, drawing lazy patterns on her arm with his fingertips, “but you know if you asked I would be more than happy to make a personal appearance the next time you intend to conjure up this little scenario in the Fade.”
“I know you would,” she said with a laugh, one eye opening to peer at him. “Which is exactly why I won’t tell you. You’d never let me live it down.”
He hummed, not quite agreeing and yet doing little to deny it. “Or perhaps we could take this out of the Fade?” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to her shoulder. “If you asked… maybe I could talk some sense into the old man. We could give you what you want…”
“This is little more than a dream,” Solas said, settling in beside her, his arm wrapping loosely around her waist. “She does not need it to be anything more than that.”
“What harm would it do to ask?” the young man pressed. “We both desire you, do we not?”
Isii peered at him, smirking. “I’m guessing you’re the part of my subconscious responsible for coming up with absolutely terrible ideas.”
Solas chuckled, the sound muffled into a pillow as he curled his body against hers. “That would be appropriate,” he muttered.
Fen’Harel scowled as Isii giggled, drawing him forward with a light touch to his cheek. “You’re delightfully ridiculous,” she hummed, kissing him briefly before settling back against the plush warmth of her bed. She let out a slow sigh, enjoying the feeling of being cradled between both of them, limbs comfortably entwined, breaths steady and slow.
She couldn’t help but love them both. They were the same man at their core - even if the two of them couldn’t see it. To see Solas before the weight of the world was on his shoulders, to know him before that quiet unspoken pain knit his brow; it made her feel strangely protective of him. She didn’t fully comprehend what made this man who seemingly cared for so little become a man haunted by regret. But when she saw the young man smile or heard the ripple of his laughter, she couldn’t help but think of those moments when Solas would let his mask fall aside, moments reserved for her alone, where she could see him as he truly was.
How could she not love that part of him - no matter how brash and immature he was in comparison?
She shifted, sighing, and felt them both stir - a kiss on her cheek from Solas, another to her collarbone from his younger self. She couldn’t help but laugh.
So what if this couldn’t be real?
She could always dream.