Chapter Text
"Bundle up, Denerim denizens! A winter storm's coming, predicted to sweep down from the Frostbacks over the next few days. So grab your hot cocoa and your footie pajamas because it's going to be a cold one!"
"Do we have to listen to this?" Ellana groaned. She leaned over as if in slow motion, her cheek landing gently in Leliana's lap as city lights flashed blurrily past the car windows. "What happened to the music?"
"It'll be back in a minute. Don't be so impatient!" Merrill scolded from the driver's seat.
Leliana gently patted Ellana's hair. "I think maybe we let you have one too many drinks at dinner. You're going to be too tired for dancing."
"I won't!" Ellana said, her voice muffled by the folds of Leliana's fluffy pink skirt. "I've been looking forward to it all week. Ever since you kidnapped me."
Josephine politely cleared her throat from where she sat on Leliana's opposite side. "I thought we weren't supposed to call it a kidnapping? For reasons of … cultural sensitivity."
"You shouldn't," Ellana clarified. "I'm going to call it what it is."
"Dalish traditions are very clear -" Merrill began.
"Traditions I don't follow," Ellana interrupted.
"Maybe not, but Keeper Marethari always says you can't throw a decent betrothal party without a kidnapping!"
"She was joking, Merrill. You know most clans don't bother with that anymore."
"Sabrae does. Oh, and when I told Dorian about it, he loved the idea! He said they do something similar in Tevinter."
"Which they most likely stole from us."
"Yes, I thought so too. But I figured it might be rude to point out to him."
"I'm sure Solas has by now."
Most of the car's occupants laughed.
"When are you going to give me my phone back?" Ellana demanded. She'd been doing her best to maintain a mental inventory of all the things she wanted to text Solas, but the cocktails she'd had at dinner were making it increasingly difficult to recall. It was a very long list.
"When we get to the club," Merrill said. "It hasn't changed from when I told you ten minutes ago."
"Coming up, another hour of Fereldan favorites!" The car's speakers interrupted again with a familiar and unwelcome voice. "Until next week, this is Philliam, signing off!"
"Who thought it was a good idea to give that asshole his own radio show?" Ellana grumbled.
"It was something of an inevitability after his 'tell-all' interview with Jovi Merice," Leliana said.
"He's lucky he didn't try that in Orlais." Josephine's tone had taken on the cold edge that always made Ellana just a little afraid of her.
In the months following the incident at Halamshiral[1], Ellana had been the focus of a renewed wave of interest, this round far less benevolent than the first. While official blame was still directed at former-Minister Alexius, murmurs of her own involvement persisted no matter how diligently Josephine worked to scrub them away. Ellana had, after all, just finished a particularly inflammatory speech when the first explosion occurred.
Josephine had done an impressive job, especially considering the Journal was no longer paying her on Ellana's behalf. But Philliam was the annoying outlier. His appearance on Jovi's show had been widely watched in Ferelden, and he'd spent the hour depicting Ellana and her companion (whose name he'd thankfully forgotten) as snobbish academics out of touch with reality.
But she wasn't supposed to be thinking about Philliam, or the Journal, or how the paper's owners had reacted after Ellana and her coworkers published several articles that contributed to the ousting of Tevinter's First Minister. She was supposed to be having fun.
"I suppose I can see why some people enjoy him." Merrill said. "He has a funny way of speaking. So dramatic!"
Ellana rolled her eyes. "Maybe it works for radio. In person, he just sounds like a clown."
"How did you meet him, again?"
"Long story. It was Solas' fault."
"Hmm," Merrill hummed too smugly for Ellana's taste. "He is awfully good at getting himself into trouble, isn't he?"
"Merrill …" Ellana warned. Merrill knew more than most just how troublesome their recent adventures had been, but Ellana had no intention of sharing those details with the rest of their friends.
"What?" Merrill shrugged. "It's a nice thing! You suit one another. Especially since he's been getting into trouble for just as long as you have."
"Merrill!" Ellana said again, this time through clenched teeth.
"Oh, fine! What was I saying before? Right! Our traditions are very clear that the bride and groom must be separated for one week -"
"But it has only been four days," Josephine pointed out.
"It is the Keeper's prerogative to make some allowances for the couple. Knowing these two, I thought I should keep the timeline realistic."
Snickers sounded through the cramped car.
"You're not my Keeper," Ellana mumbled.
"I am today," Merrill cheerfully replied.
"Then prerogative my phone back to me."
"Shh. You're not making sense." Leliana petted Ellana's curls again. "You should try to sit up. I wouldn't want you to wrinkle that lovely dress."
Ellana forced herself upright with a put-upon sigh and rested her forehead against the window.
The fall semester at Lydes had ended just a few days before, and Solas had submitted his final grades in what he described as 'record time.' They'd arrived at Denerim's train station ready for pre-wedding festivities with a handful of their closest friends — and, they'd thought, each other. But Merrill and Dorian had mysteriously shepherded them in opposite directions, and Ellana realized what they had planned right around the time Merrill snatched her phone out of her hand.
"Absence makes the heart grow fonder," Merrill had told her loftily, and Ellana was forced to admit, however reluctantly, that she had some experience with the truth of that axiom.
Her four-day 'kidnapping' had been a whirlwind of fancy meals, even fancier drinks, and endless sightseeing. Merrill had planned visits to her favorite museums in the city, which were carefully coordinated so as not to overlap with Solas' trips to the same ones (or so Ellana had gathered from eavesdropping on Merrill's frequent phone calls to Dorian).
Today, they'd made a brief detour in the early afternoon for shopping. Josephine had chosen and gifted Ellana the dress she wore now. The color was more than she'd usually allow, and certainly different from most of her wardrobe at home, but Ellana had long since learned to place her trust in Josie's choices, particularly when it came to fashion.
The dress was only the opening act in what Ellana intended to be a showstopping performance. She had been looking forward to tonight not only because it would mean being reunited with Solas, but also as her first chance to correct an annoying imbalance in their relationship.
Tonight, she would dance circles around him — both metaphorical and literal — and set his head spinning. Which would serve him right for doing the same to her at the gala a few months ago. He might have the advantage in a ballroom, but a nightclub was entirely her territory.
She grinned as she smoothed the fabric of her skirt.
"Do you think the slit in this dress is high enough?" she mused aloud to no one in particular.
"High enough for what?" Leliana asked with a waggle of her eyebrows that made it clear she had a few ideas.
A heavy sigh sounded from the passenger seat.
"Everything alright up there, Varric?"
"Never better, Magpie. Never better."
Ellana didn't realize it had begun to snow until they came to a stop beneath a streetlight, where she could just make out a few tiny flakes in the glow. A second car pulled up behind them, and Ellana waited impatiently for Josephine and Leliana to climb out onto the curb before she could slide across the backseat and do the same.
She was the last to emerge and had only a second to blink at the numerous shadowed faces before something crashed into her with enough force to make her gasp.
"Finally!" Solas said as he lifted her off her feet. "My wife!"
"Not yet!"
"Put her down!"
A chorus of voices continued their objections, but Ellana knew it was pointless. Solas' grip on her back was a little firmer than he would usually have allowed himself — a sure sign he'd had a few drinks at dinner as well. And while it was not the first time he had mistakenly used that appellation for her, he was always either half-asleep or a little tipsy when he let it slip.
Ellana threw her arms around his neck as he kissed her cheek.
"Dorian stole my phone," he murmured into her ear.
"Merrill had mine."
"I nearly picked it from his pocket, but Sera intercepted my hand. Sera!" Ellana felt him shaking his head in disbelief. "They have all conspired against me. Spinning some nonsense about Dalish traditions. But I thought you didn't want -"
"I don't want," Ellana assured him. "Merrill let the little bit of power I gave her go to her head. She's promoted herself from party-planner to Keeper."
"I am not surprised," Solas said in a gravely serious whisper. "I have always suspected she has the necessary temperament for kidnapping. I think she has plans to abduct my cat."
Ellana noticed that he hadn't said 'our,' but she couldn't fault him for telling the truth.
"Solas." Josephine's voice stood out from the others as she took on a particularly authoritative tone. "You are swaying, and she is in heels. This won't end well if you suddenly lose your grip."
"Then I won't lose it," Solas countered.
"Gods, old man! Would you put her down before you throw out your back?"
Solas let out a thoroughly irritated huff before he gently placed Ellana back on her feet. She was grateful for Josephine's steadying hand on her arm — not that she truly needed it.
When she'd regained her balance, Ellana glanced up at the one face she'd never before seen in person.
"Felassan," she greeted him quietly.
He stood slightly taller than Solas, his dark hair pulled back into a long braid streaked with a few errant strands of silver. It was, as well as she could recall, the one significant change in his appearance from the old photos she'd seen. She'd always imagined the pair of them terrorizing the Police Nationale in tattered t-shirts and faded denim jackets, which made it even stranger to see them standing side by side in tailored suits now.
Felassan smiled at her and it transformed him. He was roguishly handsome, with a grin so charming and infectious that she immediately sensed its twin spreading across her own face. It made Ellana feel like they were sharing some deep secret, an idea which then caused her to blush, and then made her furious to have such a bizarre series of involuntary reactions to something so completely benign.
Solas rested an elbow on Felassan's shoulder, watching her face with unguarded interest.
"It seems my reputation precedes me," Felassan said with an ironic bow of his head.
Ellana crossed her arms over her chest, determined not to be so easily swayed.
"Your voice does," she corrected. "Or did you forget we've spoken before?"
"Have we? Are you sure?" Felassan did not attempt to disguise the path of his gaze as it slid down her legs then back up again. "I think I would remember. Unless, of course, that conversation occurred under somewhat unscrupulous and slightly illegal circumstances. If that were the case, it might be best we start fresh."
Felassan's smile went a bit crooked and he titled his head slightly to one side. It was so incredibly similar to the sort of movement Solas might use punctuate an argument that Ellana could only blink in reply. The likenesses between them — not exactly in their appearances, but in mannerisms and expressions — were so uncanny that she was struck by the sense she might be looking at Solas' brother, not his …
Well. Definitions always eluded them, Solas had said.
"Slightly illegal?" Cassandra asked from over Felassan's shoulder. Ellana wasn't surprised to find her among Solas' group — they'd been close friends since graduate school. "Ellana, if this was for one of your articles -"
"It wasn't," she quickly shook her head. "That is, if that conversation happened at all. Alleged conversation," she added for good measure. Technically, helping Felassan to hack the University of Lydes' servers was done to keep an important secret from the Orlesian government. It had barely anything to do with her work for the Journal.
"She's a fast learner." Felassan elbowed Solas in the ribs. "I bet you find that very stimulating."
"You must forgive Felassan," Solas replied in a bored drawl. "Despite spending his formative years in Val Royeaux[2], he never quite mastered the Orlesian art of double entendre. He resorts to cruder attempts at wordplay instead."
"What?" Felassan cried, as if he'd been deeply wounded by Solas' suggestion. "I only meant it would be a helpful trait for your joint research projects! Drag your mind from the gutter, Solas. Your fiancée is present."
Solas opened his mouth to object, but Felassan plowed forward before he could.
"Ellana, I am truly flattered to be recognized — and by voice alone, no less — by someone of your stature. Not literal stature, of course. You are quite small. Though it makes you a good fit for Solas. He's on the shorter side, himself."
She didn't think she imagined Solas squaring his shoulders as a flush crept up his neck. Felassan seemed to have noticed as well, guessing from his wicked grin.
"I've seen a few photos of you," Ellana explained, mostly to interrupt whatever insults — or maybe punches — Solas was readying to throw.
"Really?" Felassan's smile widened until Ellana was sure she could see every one of his pearly-white teeth. "Now, that is a surprise. Not one photo but photos? Goodness, Solas. You're making quite the effort to show me off."
"You would think it's your presence that makes those pictures noteworthy," Solas snidely replied. "Never mind that I am in them as well and might wish to share them with her. Idiot," he added under his breath.
"Shut it!" Sera roared as she shoved her way between Solas and Felassan, a palm pressed flat to each of their temples.
"I've had enough of you two! 'Blah blah, I'm cleverer.' 'Blah blah, I'm more important.' Why don't you both just take down your trousers and measure them so we can get this over with?"
"There is no need," Solas said with an arrogant tip of his chin. "That particular score has long been settled."
The other conversations surrounding them had died away during Sera's outburst, which now left everyone in both groups staring at Solas. Several cheeks had gone decidedly pink, but Ellana was most surprised to find Felassan's among them. Sera broke the silence with her customary retching noises.
"This continues to be a most enlightening affair."
Dorian stepped forward, a smile curling his mustache. "Ellana!" he embraced her, then placed a kiss to each of her cheeks. "So good to see you! I owe you my congratulations once again. On the engagement as well as … other matters, apparently." His gaze canted toward Solas.
"Thanks." She cleared her throat.
"Let's resume the chatter inside, shall we?" Dorian raised his voice to catch the attention of the group. "It's deathly cold out here and I have spent a lifetime enjoying far more temperate winters. I don't know how you lot survive this every year."
"You'll get used to it," Leliana assured Dorian as she linked her arm with his. They'd become fast friends since Ellana introduced them a few months ago. Dorian shivered visibly as they hurried down the path toward the club's entrance with Sera and Josephine close on their heels.
"Ellana."
Cassandra gave her the briefest of hugs, then a stiff pat on her shoulder. "I am glad to see you enjoying yourself. I hope you'll forgive me if I skip the club? I am a terrible dancer."
"I'm sure you're not that bad," Ellana offered.
"I am not being modest," Cass shook her head. "I am that bad. Besides, I have been with them the past four days."
She nodded toward Solas and Felassan, who were locked in a heated debate. Solas had taken Ellana's hand at some point and now kept it tightly clasped in his, which left his other hand free to gesture wildly in Felassan's face.
"They never stop bickering," Cass sighed. "And Sera only makes it worse. I will hear them fighting in my dreams."
"I get it," Ellana said. She'd only experienced one fight so far, but even that was a little exhausting. "I'll see you soon."
Cassandra smiled as she leaned in close. "I have no doubt Solas could tell us down to the precise hour and minute. He is overjoyed, you know."
Ellana had no idea how to respond without making a fool of herself, so she settled for a quick nod.
"Mind if I share your taxi, Cass?" Varric asked. "I'm going to call it a night, too. Thanks for the invite, Magpie. It was … educational. I'll never look at Chuckles the same way again."
Solas, who had obviously been splitting his attention more than he let on, leaned down to Ellana as Varric and Cassandra left to hail a cab.
"Why was Tethras here?"
Things had been tense between Ellana and Varric since she learned he was writing a second novel under the same nom de plume he'd used to publish Inquisitive Hearts. His editor had deemed the new book, Elvhen Glory, unprintable in its current state and ordered it back to its author for another round of drafting. Ellana was relieved by this development, as she'd discovered the book's main characters were unflattering portrayals of herself and, especially, of Solas.
"We've agreed to a truce," she explained.
Solas raised an eyebrow. "On what terms?"
"Very favorable ones — for me, not him. I'll fill you in later."
"That sounds more like a surrender," Solas nodded approvingly. "I look forward to hearing the details of your victory."
His eyes sparkled mischievously beneath the streetlamp, and Ellana watched with fascination as a snowflake alighted gently near the scar on his brow. It made a slow, watery descent down the length of his nose and she fought a nearly irresistible desire to lick it away.
"I missed you," she told him instead — a much more reasonable reaction.
"Yes." He brushed a matching snowflake from her hair as his expression softened. "Are you alright? When they separated us, I worried that -"
"I'm alright until someone asks me if I'm alright," Ellana said, the words sticking in her throat.
"Then we needn't discuss it," he said with a nod. "I am simply relieved to have you back."
He kissed her again, but not on her cheek and not nearly so demurely as the last. Ellana was unsurprised to taste a sweet hint of alcohol on his lips — as demonstrative as Solas might be when they were alone together, he usually insisted upon a certain standard of propriety in more public settings.
Or, at least, he tried, Ellana thought as his hand slid from her waist down her hip.
They broke apart when Felassan loudly cleared his throat directly beside their heads.
"Sorry to interrupt!"
"You're not," Solas snarled.
"I'm not," Felassan agreed.
Merrill was standing next to him, and Ellana could hardly think of two people who had more potential to cause utter chaos together. Solas obviously felt the same, judging by the catch in his breath.
"Here are your phones," Merrill said. "And keycards for your room. Dorian will drive you to your hotel when you're ready to leave."
All the irritation Ellana had felt toward Merrill over the past few days melted in an instant. She might be occasionally infuriating, but she'd done a fantastic job of distracting Ellana from … from all the stressful things she wasn't supposed to be thinking about. She knew Merrill needed to get back to Markham, but, suddenly, she very badly wanted her best friend with her.
"I'll be there early to help, remember?" Merrill hugged her tight, and Ellana wondered how clearly her thoughts had shown on her face. "For now," she said, pressing a hand to Ellana's cheek, "try to relax. And have fun!"
"I will," Ellana promised. "Thank you."
"Ready, Felassan?"
"You're not coming with us?" Ellana asked.
"My train's leaving soon," Felassan explained with an apologetic dip of his chin. "Besides, I've seen the inside of too many clubs with Solas for one lifetime. If not more."
An odd look passed between them. Ellana was struck by a sense that, at some point over the past few days, there had been a discussion about this point. She wasn't entirely sure what to make of it.
She'd advocated for inviting Felassan to the wedding because he was the closest thing Solas had to family. Whatever else they'd been didn't bother her in the slightest, she reminded herself — as she'd done at least once a week since the invitations went out. No ghost from Solas' past could change things between them, even if that ghost had suddenly become far more corporeal. Even if Ellana was now confronted with inside jokes and knowing glances and a completely unreasonable sense of competition with one another.
In the end, her instinct to deflect with humor asserted itself before she could settle on a better strategy.
"Is he that bad?" she asked, dropping her voice low enough to make it seem like she were asking Felassan to share a secret, but still loud enough for Solas to hear. "Does he have terrible rhythm? Step on your feet?"
They looked at each other again.
"You've never been dancing with him," Felassan said. It wasn't a question.
"Not this kind, no."
His smile didn't quite reach his eyes.
"I won't spoil the surprise, then."
Solas chuckled in what felt like a distinctly ominous manner.
"I'm glad we finally had a chance to meet, Ellana. I've heard so much about you, but I'll admit I never quite believed most of it. Solas has made himself into something of a recluse, locked away in one university or another. I always assumed that, if he emerged at all, it would be with another academic — some homely shrinking violet on his arm. They could stroll into the sun for an afternoon, swear their vows, then retreat forever to a dusty library like contented mice while the world passed them by."
He glanced down at her again, this time with an obvious air of assessment. "I'm very happy to have been proven so thoroughly wrong."
Solas bristled beside her, and Ellana saw Felassan with new eyes. There was an actual, cutting edge to his sharp wit, and he had a nasty talent for hiding an insult beneath just enough flattery that it could easily go unnoticed. It wasn't especially endearing, and her loyalties were too rigidly defined to ignore that, while the flattery had been directed at her, the insults were directed at Solas.
She smiled, narrowing her eyes as she did. "I'm glad we met, too. You're exactly as he described."
"Oh, you two are a pair." Felassan let out an amused snort, and Ellana recalled the last time he'd told her that she and Solas were similar. It hadn't sounded like a compliment then, either. She took a small step forward, placing herself between them.
"Do go on," Felassan lowered his voice, in a clear imitation of what she'd done a few moments before. "I would love to hear what he told you about me."
It was more of a gauntlet thrown than an invitation given, and Ellana opened her mouth to accept when Solas wrapped an arm around her waist.
"That's enough," he said. "You've had your fun."
She wasn't entirely sure which of them Solas was speaking to until Felassan responded.
"I've no idea what you mean," he drawled.
"You do."
Felassan held up his hands in surrender as he laughed again. "Fine, fine! I was only joking, of course. Ellana -" he snatched her hand and brushed a kiss over her knuckles "- enjoy your terrible dancing partner. I will see you both at the wedding."
Solas' grip tightened as he walked away.
"Felassan?" Merrill called from beside the car. "Were you there for any of Solas' eleven arrests? Oh! Maybe you could tell me about them on the way to the train station!"
"Well, I can try. But it's a short drive, and I'm not entirely sure eleven is the correct number. It sounds a bit low to me."
"Fenedhis," Solas muttered against the back of Ellana's head. "They are the two most insufferable people in Thedas. Wild druffalo could not drag me into that car with them."
"You're being a bit uncharitable, vhenan." She carefully straightened his fingers so they were no longer digging into her stomach.
"Am I? Your willingness to overlook Merrill's faults is understandable, considering the bond you two share. But you're giving Felassan undue credit because you don't know him as I do."
"Oh, please." She twisted to face him. "Merrill drives me completely insane and you know it. Felassan is a shameless flirt, and he obviously loves watching it get under your skin. You shouldn't let it."
"That is easier said than done."
"Solas." Ellana caught his face between her hands. "The only thing more ridiculous than being jealous of an oversized t-shirt is being jealous of your own ex when he pretends to flirt with your fiancée."
"Pretends?" Solas scoffed, readying himself for a fresh round of arguments. But Ellana gave him a pointed look. It was entirely obvious — at least to her — that none of Felassan's leering looks had been for her benefit. She knew what it felt like when someone was flirting with her, and this had been something else.
Solas hesitated long enough for some spark of understanding to snap into place.
"You're right. Of course, you're right." Solas let out a heavy sigh. "It has been a … challenging few days."
"I can see that."
"Somehow, I had nearly forgotten how much he loves the sound of his own voice. He's much easier to deal with on the phone," Solas grumbled. "I can simply hang up on him when he begins to drone on."
"I can't imagine who he got that from," Ellana snarked before she could stop herself.
Solas gave her a level look. "Would it surprise you to know I was relatively quiet in my youth?"
"Oh, my mistake. So you learned it from him?"
She grinned as she saw the telltale set of Solas' jaw that confirmed this option was even more distasteful than the first.
"Don't worry. I think it's one of your best qualities. I'll have to thank Felassan the next time I see him."
"It is difficult to say which of us would be more offended by the insinuation."
Ellana laughed as she lifted carefully onto her toes to kiss the tip of his nose. "Come on. It's freezing out here."
Solas had removed his jacket and draped it over her shoulders before Ellana realized what he was doing. He eyed the keycard Merrill had given him curiously before slipping it into his pocket.
"Don't tell me they had you in a hotel this entire time?"
"Oh, no." Ellana shook her head. "I've been sleeping at Leliana's. But they checked me into a really fancy place a few hours ago. Crystal chandeliers in the lobby, a view of the Drakon River from the room, and an enormous bathtub. Apparently it's ours for the night. Why? Where did they have you staying?"
"Sera's sofa." Solas twisted at the waist and Ellana heard an audible crack. "My back may never be the same."
"We'll put it to the test later," she grinned.