Archive of Our Own ^beta

Felassan was at his limits when he finally cornered Solas in the Lighthouse. Felassan was meant to be Solas’ general, but he’d spent most of recent days answering questions from the group managing the kitchens – yes, everyone got a fair share, work was meant to be done in rotations, if you need something specific, mark it down for requisitions to look into – as well as their intelligence unit, which had almost too many new volunteers, all untrained, and no idea how to manage them all, but also worries the recruits would disappear if they asked for time, and the healers, who wanted clarity on where the new beds and potions were coming from.

Felassan knew he got on better with the Collector than most other elves save Solas did – it was a benefit of being a Dreamer – but that relationship didn’t mean he knew everything about how their new base worked. And he was confused why he was the one in charge when this was Solas’ operation. Solas was the one who could stand toe-to-toe with Elgar’nan and the other Evanuris, after all.

Still, he did what he must. But over the recent days, after another successful release of Evanuris slaves, confusion had turned to exasperation, especially when Solas kept disappearing rather than dealing with the people he was responsible for. Usually on missions, from which he would return with some new bit of information they could possibly use somehow.

Felassan managed to untangle himself at last and discovered their glorious leader standing in a quiet out of the way room, where half the walls were glass windows into a tank of water, or perhaps some mysterious sea in or out of the Fade. Colorful schools of fish swam in the glittering depths, and it was truly a mesmerizing sight.

Solas himself stood tall as a pillar, as usual, with his hands clasped neatly behind his back. His long brown mane was brushed neatly down his long neck. And his armor, while made of some of the finest materials the man could find, was relatively unadorned. If Felassan didn’t know the other elf so well, he might have thought some off-duty guard was taking a quiet moment to reflect here. Felassan was again struck by how unobtrusive Solas looked, and knew that, despite his name, it was another statement against the Evanuris. Elgar’nan and the other “gods” were ostentatious and ridiculous, fond of pageantry. Solas, on the other hand, viewed himself as he was just another elf.

At least until he gets upset about something, Felassan thought as he locked the door behind him to keep out curious ears before he marched up to his old friend. Then no one can mistake who he is.

“Is there something you need?” Solas asked with a slight glance back to him. He barely moved, and Felassan thought the image of a wolf in the shadows suited him: Solas always seemed to take up as little space as possible, and it made people miss where his claws and fangs might land. “I was merely taking a moment to myself.”

Felassan didn’t want to begrudge Solas his privacy and rest, and Felassan knew he was being intrusive, but he’d sought Solas out for a number of reasons. He replied, “I need your help to ensure the pathways are secure for people getting supplies. With increased numbers, the Lighthouse, brilliant as it is, can only manage so much. We can’t live on grass and healing tonics forever.”

Solas nodded gravely. “Of course…” He sounded weary. “I can do that.” But he just kept standing by the wall rather than heading off or preparing some new plan. As if the fate of this place weren’t forever hanging in the balance. Not all of them were as strong as a god, and Felassan wondered if Solas fully understood that.

Felassan breathed in deeply and stepped forward, “You know feeding these people is important right?”

“Of course,” Solas said, still sounding detached.

“You rescued them, Solas,” Felassan continued, feeling inordinately annoyed now. “You summoned them here. To save them. Now you have to feed them. So they survive being brought here.” Nothing mattered if they failed in that. What was rescue if you died soon after?

Solas looked at him then, with a reproachful gaze. Not one he leveled at enemies, particularly Elgar’nan, but the one he sometimes used when he noticed something other people missed. Like he could see straight to it, and he thought it needed fixing.

“If you don’t want to hear it from me, you’ll hate it worse when someone else points it out,” Felassan muttered. “The growing number of refugees is turning this place nightmarish, and we really need to get ahead of it somehow…”

He blinked and stared at Solas, realizing whom he was really upset with.

Solas met his gaze coolly.

Felassan put a hand over his face. “Damn… How are we going to care for all these people?” He knew there was panic in his voice.

“Ma vhenan—” Solas began, stepping closer. There was worry in his voice.

Felassan stepped back to plop down on the large couch behind him and clutched at his hair with his left hand, and his left arm with his right. “I didn’t even think about all of this before… I just wanted to help end tyrants, not run a city…” He breathed in, trying to get himself under control. It was hard to breathe now. “I’m not ready for this, Solas! I’m not prepared for it! I don’t— I—!”

Strong hands came down to rest on his shoulders. “Breathe, Felassan,” Solas said. His warm breath pressed against the back of Felassan’s left hand. “Breathe. We’ll all fall to pieces if you start now.” There was a bit of dark humor and fondness in his voice.

Felassan shut his eyes, trying to calm himself.

A sudden warmth moved through him. Some gentle healing spell he didn’t quite recognize. It didn’t do all that much, but it made Felassan’s shoulders relax a bit, and he was able to lower his hands and open his eyes again.

Solas was kneeling on the ground before him, gazing up at him with his sharp, handsome face. The older elf looked worried.

Felassan laughed, quietly and said,  “I’m a mess, aren’t I?” He grimaced and continued, “How will I lead anyone like this?” He felt so supremely useless here. What did it matter if he could fight with the best of them, if they all died under his watch later?

Solas lowered his right hand to cup Felassan’s left cheek and said, quietly, “You are hardly a mess. If anything, it’s reasonable you’re feeling a bit stressed. We’ve accomplished much in a short time, and every step forward is impressive against the odds we’re facing.”

Felassan smiled and said, “They’re scared, Solas. I don’t… I don’t know how to comfort them.” They were strong, too, he knew that. He saw the way they helped each other, training newcomers, singing against the terrible odds they faced… But they needed good leaders, and Felassan didn’t know if he was the right elf for that.

Solas winced before he leaned forward and pressed their lips together.

Felassan made a soft noise before he shut his eyes and opened his mouth to the kiss. They’d been too busy for moments like this recently, and it wasn’t why he’d sought Solas out now, but… he had to admit it was nice, too.

When Solas broke the kiss, letting Felassan breathe, Solas said, “You comfort me. You support me. You can support them.”

“I don’t think you want me letting anyone else kiss me or fuck me, Solas,” Felassan said with a grin. “Unless that’s a new thing you’re tr—”

Solas pressed their lips together again to silence him. And Felassan realized Solas likely wanted more of a distraction, too.

He supposed they had time. Felassan had snuck away because it was convenient, not because disaster was as imminently looming as his worried mind made it seem.

Solas only pulled away briefly to say, “You know I’m not a sharer in that sense.”

Felassan grinned at him. “Prove it, then. It seems I only see you on the battlefield these days.”

Solas smirked and pulled him up to a standing position.

The buckles of Felassan’s armor undid themselves with a bit of Solas’ magic, letting his armor slip down his legs. It was still a bit weird to have magic undo Felassan’s clothes, but it certainly sped things up as he quickly hopped out of it and then allowed Solas to move him closer to a glass wall.

Solas pressed Felassan against the glass, his left hand cupping Felassan’s cheek, and his right moving down Felassan’s back to squeeze his ass.

Felassan wanted to wrap his legs around the other elf, but the armor was a bit of an encumbrance. He could feel Solas’ crotch rubbing against him, though, and reached out to lightly squeeze Solas through it.

Solas pressed Felassan firmly against the glass, with a hard look saying, Don’t you dare move, before stepping back to wave a hand over his armor. More straps undid themselves, and his pants fell, letting him step out of them.

“You’re not worried about scandalizing the fish?” Felassan asked as Solas moved closer again.

Solas scoffed and replied, “They’ve already all swum away. I imagine they see this kind of thing regularly among their own kind anyway, minus the clothing.” His gloves dropped to the floor.

“Is fish fornication something you think about a lot, then?” Felassan asked with a grin.

Solas shook his head and kissed Felassan once more before reaching down to pointedly grab Felassan’s left hip.

Felassan got the message and wrapped his arms around Solas’ neck so that he could leverage his legs up and around Solas’ waist, which meant his back pressed against the oddly warm glass. His thighs pushed against the warm leather of Solas’ coat.

Solas’ left hand caressed Felassan’s right hip. His right hand moved over Felassan’s left thigh, inward, and then down, past Felassan’s cock, and pressed between his cheeks, seeking out Felassan’s entrance.

Felassan gripped his left wrist as Solas pressed a finger into him, already magically wet, which quickly began thrusting back and forth within him. They didn’t have all that much time for longer fun, and Felassan didn’t mind all the shortcuts. He wanted Solas inside him.

Felassan may have felt like an imposter amidst their operation, but he knew Solas wanted him here. For this at least. Despite Felassan taking things out on him.

A second finger joined the first, making Felassan grunt a bit. Healing magic soothed the way, because Solas was nothing if not good at multitasking. It was ridiculously attractive.

“And here I thought it was my strategic mind that appealed to you,” Solas said with a smirk as he thrust in and out of Felassan. His breath was hot on Felassan’s cheek, and his left hand gripped Felassan’s right leg firmly.

Felassan realized he must have said something aloud, and he chuckled. “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s that giant wolf form of yours that can eat through enemy armies. Six eyes really does it for me.”

“Such elegant flirtation,” Solas said, practically stabbing his fingers inside Felassan. “I’m left wondering how we ever started doing this.”

“We both needed it,” Felassan said as he pressed his head back into the glass on a good thrust. His cock was getting painfully hard. “And it was convenient. And you know your tongue is amazing, Solas, or you wouldn’t use it so much.”

Solas chuckled and removed his fingers.

Felassan bit down a desperate whine. He supposed the time since they’d last been together had been a bit long.

Solas returned with his cock, and quickly thrust his way inside the other elf, making Felassan bounce a little on the glass. When the movement grew slightly uncomfortable, something soft, almost like cloth, appeared behind Felassan. A glance back showed him that the aquarium wall was still there, but a patch of it was colored in glittery green magic cloth.

Felassan wondered if he’d have to apologize to the Fade spirits later. He knew they weren’t entirely unfamiliar with passion in the Fade – after all, there were literal spirits all about physicality – but still. He felt like he should. He imagined they hadn’t thought the aquarium should be used this way.

Solas reached out to grasp Felassan’s hips, pulling him closer on each thrust, so that he could bully his cock even deeper into Felassan’s insides.

Felassan squeezed his arms around Solas’ neck, rucking up the other elf’s hair. The air around them filled with more green sparkles. Solas said in the past he sometimes had a little trouble managing his magic when he was close to release, which Felassan found strangely endearing, so long as it didn’t blow him up.

Solas kissed him again, licking his way inside Felassan’s mouth.

Felassan moved his hips with Stolas’ to pull the other elf deeper, wanting more. After their little break, it all felt somewhat new. Most corners of the Lighthouse were taken up by new refugees and their comrades, and he imagined this place would soon be taken by someone else. They’d have to figure out another arrangement of some kind.

It was hard to fathom, that after growing so close through this movement, one of the few things that kept them both sane might be something they lost.

Felassan wondered if it would be harder for him than Solas. Solas was still mourning Mythal, after all. Felassan was so much younger, and Solas was more of a force of legend. It made sense Solas didn’t think about feeding people: he was just a trickster god, freeing their people from shackles. He wasn’t a god of agriculture or the home.

Neither was Felassan. His magic was for destruction. And if they were both wolves, what was to become of the people who looked to them for aid?

Magic wrapped around Felassan’s cock, yanking him back to the most pressing concern inside him.

“You haven’t released yet,” Solas said against his lips. “Am I neglecting you?”

Judging by how you’re rearranging my insides, Felassan thought with a grunt, no. “I—”

A whip of pleasure raced through him, making him gasp. He knew Solas was doing it with magic, massively increasing what Solas’ cock was doing, but it was so overwhelming that Felassan didn’t care.

“Ahhh—!” Felassan cried out, squeezing Solas in his arms. He was spilling over his stomach, making a mess of his remaining armor.

Solas grinned, clearly feeling victorious, and kept thrusting, chasing his own release.

Like this, Felassan felt like a true limb of the Dread Wolf. A piece in his glory. And it was extravagant.

He deserved the name of Pride.

Solas pressed Felassan against the glass as he came, spilling inside the other elf.

Felassan’s right hand clung to Solas’ sweaty hair. His face was buried against Solas’ right shoulder. The pleasure within him was delicious. And he hoped Solas felt the same.

“I have never regretted a moment of our partnership,” Solas said, shakily, against him. “You are my strength. And you shall be theirs. I would fall without you, vhenan.”

Felassan’s eyes were wet and he hugged the other elf tighter. “I don’t know that I’m made for this, Solas.” It terrified him, how easily it could all fall to pieces. And he would be at fault. He didn’t want glory or anything: he just wanted to do right by those they’d protected.

He wanted Solas to be proud of him.

Solas sighed and said, “I know I was not made for this. But we all are capable of much when we put our minds to it.” He rested his right hand over the back of Felassan’s scalp. “I will not make you do this thing if you do not wish. But I will do my best to walk beside you if you stay.”

Felassan felt his throat thicken. “As if I’d leave your side.” The idea was horrible: he belonged here, helping to save their world, and would rather die than abandon it. He shut his eyes. “I’m grateful you’re with me, vhenan. You are my strength.”

“You are your own strength,” Solas corrected him, unwilling to let the argument rest.

Felassan snorted, but didn’t reply. Having the last word with the Dread Wolf was a losing game.

Besides, as he wrapped his arms tighter, holding the other elf close, he had something better than words.