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“This is your home no longer, da’len.”
Ellana whipped around at the sound of that familiar voice, eyes darting back and forth in the darkness, straining in vain to see. She felt the familiar resonance of Skyhold around her — she could mistake it for nowhere else — but could not see it. All was black.
“Regret may have driven me from it in the waking world,” she dared say, “but I dream of what I like, Solas.”
The space almost seemed to breathe in the wake of her challenge. Every inch of its blackness pressed against her consciousness, against her dreamt skin, against the healed stump of her arm. It felt as if she stood within a pair of great lungs — that is, until the snicking sound of many eyelids opening fell upon her ears. She looked up, dread mounting in her belly, to see six massive, luminous, slitted lyrium-blue eyes glaring down from impossibly high above her. Ice ran through her limbs at the sight.
“I was Solas first, as he told you once,” the voice conceded, coiling around her like warm smoke. “But remember… Fen’Harel came later.”
That ice that so chilled her sank into her bones, followed by an uncomfortable prickling of her skin. Warmth pooled in her belly, in her pelvis, at the sound of that voice — one she’d longed for for longer than she cared to say. To hear it now, canted so cruelly and in a way that was so utterly unlike the gentle tones she knew, was a torture she was not sure she could bear.
But, to her dismay, excitement thrummed through her veins anyway.
The darkness pressed closer, closer, until she could hear nothing but the bellows of those great lungs, her own heartbeat in her ears, and the soft, wet sound of a mouth opening to speak.
“You are in my realm tonight, little one,” he told her, his words reverberating through her bones, “and thus are at my mercy. What should I do with you?”
She swallowed hard and felt an angry audacity rise up her throat. She pettily let it go. “What you like.”
Growing, ebbing, growing sounds of tittering interest filled her ears, coming and going as if circling her. She felt sized up, like a lamb brought to slaughter. When the voice spoke, it was as if filtered through many menacing lenses — only the cadence was Solas’s, and all else was dark.
“Do you know what you promise, da’len?” Fen’Harel rumbled. “I would shatter your mind here. I would turn you inside out and lick into the valleys of your ribs. I would torture you with such sweetness and pain and longing as exists in my own heart.”
The darkness pressed even closer, and Ellana’s eyes rolled shut when Solas’s voice — her Solas’s voice — murmured in her ear, “Is that what you would like, vhenan?”
“Yes,” she gasped. “I’m yours.”
He snatched her up the moment she spoke.
Those blue eyes blinked, one by one, above her. They drew nearer, as if the creature were approaching her — once she felt warm breath on her face, there came a slow, spreading smile as wide as a crescent moon, full of razor sharp teeth.
Whatever held her was warm and massive, like two clawed hands that could span her entire torso — that did span her entire torso, she quickly realised as the darkness began to fade. It wasn’t that light entered the space, but that she could slowly, slowly see through the darkness to make out the form before her, the thumbs that slid between her breasts and pressed the breath from her lungs, the face that canted over her in its massive cruelty.
He was a horror. The eyes of a pride demon glared from deep within black fur, above a snout that was wrinkled back in a snarl of bared, slavering teeth. In the darkness beyond, where she could make out naught but the dimmest of outlines, she saw a curved bone — webbing, as if between fingers — a claw set upon the arching line of a wing.
It was not lungs that made that rhythmic sound. It was the beating of massive, draconic wings that burst from the back of this monster, that moved through the darkness like sea creatures in the deepest depths of the ocean. She gasped and closed her eyes.
“No no, da’len,” the dark voice that was not Solas’s chuckled. “Look at me. See me, as I truly am.”
Her eyes flew open against her better judgement, her heart beating hard in her chest. The beast was in perfect clarity now — perfect, horrendous clarity — but even as her gaze rested on his rippling pelt, the curve of his wings, the saliva dripping from his fangs, he began to change.
Fen’Harel lowered her to some unseen surface that felt like grass, like a bedroll in a tent, like her familiar bed in the Skyhold tower. Dozens of sensations ran over her skin at once as the creature who leaned over her shimmered and condensed — his skin moved, as if it were merely draped over breaking bones and swelling organs. Hairs drew back into his pores like worms wriggling into the earth. His jaw cracked as if struck, broken — it bent into the face of a man with high cheekbones, a long, narrow jaw, a pointed chin. Braided locks of auburn hair slipped over his shoulder and brushed against her breast.
Her eyes raked over this man, familiar and yet not. He was on hands and knees above her, the press of his body so achingly dear and known — but his eyes remained the impassive six of the demon, studding his forehead and sunken beneath gold-pierced brows. When his plush lips parted, every single one of his teeth were pointed and sharp.
“He knew you as a man knows a woman in the flesh,” Fen’Harel tutted, his breath washing over her with scents of anise, embrium, the tang of lyrium like lightning in the air. “I will know you here, as our people were meant to embrace. He was too weak to love you as I can — as I will.”
His knees nudged hers apart, and his head ducked into the crook of her neck. His lips on her skin felt like fire, like death, like exquisite release — the draw of his teeth along her pulse made her heart hammer in her ears. Her one hand flew to his right shoulder and gripped it tight.
Fen’Harel’s appreciative chuckle was the darkest of music in her ear. One clawed hand gripped her thigh and hefted it over his hip — he ground against her, pinning her to the unknown surface, until she felt a cock that was both familiar and not harden against her pelvic bone. He turned to lave his tongue along the ridge of her pointed ear.
“Open, da’len,” he murmured, his voice enveloping her whole. “Spread your legs wider for me.”
She whimpered and hurried to obey — she pressed her free knee as closely as she could to the ground, then reached for it with her hand and pressed it further until the tendons in her hip protested. He stole all the space she gave him, rutting against her growing slick until she sobbed.
“No no,” he growled, covering her mouth with one hand when she opened it. “You will be silent until I let you speak. You will be good, hmm? I only want to hear your animal grunts and screams now, like the witless creature you are.”
His fingers tightened over her mouth, in the flesh of her thigh, as he lined his cock up with her slit. His sharp teeth dug into her neck as he slowly, slowly pressed inside.
She felt as if she would split open. This was a cock she knew, but it was somehow more than she could bear, more than she could take — her familiarity with it gave her no recourse. He lowered the hand from her mouth to her hip, his clawed fingers digging into her flesh. He fucked into her with a grunt, stealing cries of pain from her lips with open mouthed kisses to silence her. He tasted like sweet, sticky death.
Her skin felt as if it ripped under his fingers as he hauled her pelvis down onto every one of his thrusts. There was tearing pain under his hands, around his intruding cock, at her mouth where he bit and panted into her, but with that pain was pleasure that lit her aflame. She grunted out her shuddering bliss against his lips.
“You take it so well, little creature,” he muttered, tucking his face against her neck once again. “That's my girl.”
She sobbed — pleasure washed through her at the mere sound of his praise. She wanted more. She needed more.
She didn’t realise she’d asked for it until he’d clamped his hand down over her mouth again.
“What did I say?” he hissed, his teeth sharp on the tip of her ear. “Your cries only, da’len. And you dare to ask for more?”
He rolled his hips forward, driving her into the ground. She drew hissing breaths between his hot fingers — tears rolled down her cheeks and into her ears as she frantically nodded.
He laughed at her desperation, the light of his eyes flickering as he grinned. “Greedy little beast.”
Fen’Harel leaned back, parting from her as he sat back on his heels, still buried within her to the hilt. His lean torso bunched and rippled with each thrust into her body, and he gripped her hips with both hands — she wriggled, desperate, until she’d wrapped her legs around his waist. She buried her hand in her own hair, gritting her teeth against the begging entreaties that bubbled up in her throat.
As he leaned back this way, bared to her covetous gaze, the six eyes in his skull began to flood with red until the blue was all but drowned. He threw his head back — baring the lines of his throat, the strong point of his chin — and groaned a gut deep groan as he buried himself as far inside her as he could. She sobbed and cried out her appreciation, her horror, her pain.
Before he looked back down at her, his skin rippled again, but not because of muscles beneath it. His form seemed to swell, larger, larger, until he bent over her on all fours — his skin was now a pelt across his back and down his arms, culminating in great claws that could rend her limb from limb. And when he turned his face towards her again, it was caught somewhere between the man he was and the beast he’d first appeared to her as — sharp, slavering teeth, glinting ruby eyes, skin that bunched on his nose in a snarl.
He flickered, like the flame of a candle, in between the forms of the elvhen man he was a moment ago and the massive creature who had clutched her in hands the size of an aravel. He grunted out pain and pleasure both, it seemed, as if he was holding back —
“Don’t,” she gasped. “Don’t hold it, please. Fuck me as you are.”
The laugh at that was like a cough, a sob, a cackle. He shook and trembled with effort — when he spoke, it was as if dozens of Fen’Harels circled her and whispered, overlapping.
“Did I permit you to speak?”
He rushed forward, a flash of perception, and clutched her to him. The Fade spun, winding about them, until she was seated in his lap. She was speared on his cock, as if made to hold it inside her. He laved his tongue across her jaw, down her neck, her shoulder, her arm — he spanned the stump of her elbow between his lips, his teeth sharp against the magical scar.
“I could swallow you whole,” he murmured, darker than the blackest pitch.
He fucked up into her, once, twice — each time, it felt as if the cock inside her was bigger than before. She groaned at the sensation, tears streaming down her face. She no longer knew if he hurt her or pleasured her — here, the distinction didn’t seem to matter.
Ellana gripped her fingers in the rough pelt on his shoulder, her nails scratching at the skin beneath. His mouth, now tucked against her neck, opened to graze razor-sharp teeth along her skin. He raised one hand to her face — his thumb pressed at her lips, huge and taloned, demanding entrance.
“Open your mouth,” he snapped.
She eagerly parted her lips and took his thumb inside.
“Good girl,” he gasped, voice impossibly low. “Good girl.”
She swirled her tongue against the pad of his thumb, along the sharp point of his claw. He fucked it into her mouth, pressing back and back until his claw choked her. She wanted to beg again for more, more of him — to be completely filled, completely surrounded by him and his scent of lyrium and anise, of the sensation of rough fur and smooth skin, sharp teeth and plush lips. He bit at her skin, and she mewled around his digit on her tongue.
Suddenly, he ripped it from her mouth — she gasped at its loss. He lowered that hand to her hip and used both hands to lift her, then pull her down on his length. She screamed at the intrusion, the exquisite stretch and pain.
“Speak, da’len,” he growled, his breath hot on her face. “I would hear you now.”
It was as if his words opened the stemmed brook of her voice — she gasped and cried, rutting on him like a desperate animal.
“Fuck me harder,” she begged. “Please, I need it, I need it —”
His answering groan was deep, primal — it echoed through the throbbing Fade in time with his cock inside her. He gripped her waist — hands completely spanning it, as if she were no bigger than the stem of a wine glass — and fucked up into her, faster, faster, until she felt as if she would split in half. She tipped her head back and closed her eyes.
Time slipped. In this dream there was only sensation, such as pain and pleasure, ecstasy and remorse, love and roiling hatred. She wanted to claw her nails into his shoulder and mark him — whether to punish him or mark him as hers, she didn’t know — just as he had marked the stub of her left arm. She dimly became aware of tears running down her cheeks and throat, of screams ripping her throat raw. At one point he leaned forward and locked his teeth into her shoulder. His fangs found slick purchase in her flesh.
Her first orgasm shook her entire body, more pain than anything else — it washed over her, through her, out of her, until the air around her seemed to tremble with her cries. He grunted in response, but did not relent.
She could not catch her breath. He didn’t permit it — in a whirling, dizzying motion, she was no longer speared in his lap, and was instead on one hand and her knees. She dimly sensed something soft and wet and long — a tongue? A forked tongue — slide through the messy slick of her cunt, then up to circle her asshole. That tongue firmed and pressed, slavering, until it slipped inside.
Pleasure washed over her skin and through her limbs. She rocked back against his face, against his bared teeth, against the dripping lips of a wolf — sheer lust ripped through her with every fuck of his tongue.
Nearly as suddenly as it began, he drew away. She felt bare and exposed for only a moment — then, he was warm and massive against the backs of her thighs. The tip of his cock — bigger than she thought possible to take — pressed at her hole.
“I can't — I can't —” she sobbed, rocking back in direct contradiction to her words. “I can’t take it, you’ll hurt me —”
"You can, little one," he told her, his voice like silk against her ear. “You are so good. I will split you open, my beautiful creature.”
He leaned over her, bracing his hands on either side of her. The size of them compared to her one small hand was nearly comical — he could crush her skull like a berry in the palm of his hand. His slick cockhead, still wet from her cunt, pushed against her rim — she tightened against it.
“Please,” she begged, fear and arousal rushing through her in tandem. “I’m so afraid, please —”
He growled and bore down on her, until she fell forward on her elbow. Her ass canted up into the air. The snarling rumbles of his breath vibrated through her very soul, but still, he did not force himself inside her. He waited.
Her scattered mind latched on to the recollection that this was the Fade — this was only a dream. If he wished her to, she could — and all she wanted was for him to be sated, to be pleased, and for her body to have pleased him. She rolled her eyes shut against flowing tears and leaned into the sweet, mindless sweep of submission that promised it will feel good if he is happy.
"Sathan," she sobbed. "Pala'ma masa."
He pressed harder against her rim. “Let go, little beast."
He nudged her knees apart with his own, forcing her hips down until her thighs met his knees. Her hips cried out in protest at the stretch. His cock was inexorable, inevitable, against her hole. Fen’Harel leaned forward until his fanged mouth grazed her ear.
“Now,” he growled, “open.”
She relaxed her hole with a sob — at that same instant, he eased forward. His cockhead stretched, stretched, stretched her — she breathed shallow, hitching breaths of blooming pain, tears still streaking down her cheeks. She breathed one last please before it finally popped inside.
He chuckled in her ear. “There. Was that so bad?”
“Please,” was all she could say. “Please.”
She didn’t even know what she asked for anymore. Mercy? More? Less? Her mind was fractured, dancing in pieces among the fragments of half-remembered pain. She didn’t remember why she was so afraid. But just as her body grew accustomed to the head of his cock inside her, he caught the edge of her ear between his teeth and thrust himself in straight to the hilt.
Her scream shook the raw Fade, but all she got in reply was a ragged, desperate groan.
Pain and arousal dulled her mind. She knew she was clawing the raw surface of the dream — she knew she was rocking back, as if for more of him — she knew his mouth on her ear was almost as painful as the cock stretching her ass open. But what came clearest was his voice, his trembling, sobbing praise.
“Little one,” he called her, “you beautiful thing, you are so good — so good — so good —”
He began to rut into her, as if they were animals fucking on the ground. His great body crushed down on her, massive and heavy and monstrous, and his cock inside her felt as if it struck her stomach with every thrust. She lay flat on her shoulder and the side of her face, ass still up to receive him, and placed her one hand on her belly to feel him move inside her.
There was pain and pleasure both in the fullness, in the stretch — she wanted to escape from it, to hide from it, to embrace it and beg for more of it. Ellana didn’t know where to begin.
She was babbling, she knew. Her mind was gone, absent except for whatever tethered her to her sensations and voice. When she focused, she realised she was begging him — to fuck her harder, deeper, to fill her until she could take no more. But what finally broke him was her ragged “please,” repeated ad nauseum until he crushed her flat to the ground.
“That's my good girl,” he gasped, fucking so deep into her ass that she screamed. “Beautiful creature. You look so gorgeous like this, stretched around my cock, like you were made to take it.”
He thrust deep into her, driving more hoarse noises from her throat. He sucked at her earlobe before he raggedly whispered, “Like you were made for me to come into.”
Past that moment, she drifted away again into timeless pain and pleasure. Fen’Harel took his due from her, his clawed hands cruelly gripping her thighs and hauling her back onto his length. Her mind lingered somewhere beyond her body, tethered only by the knowledge that this would end — that she should enjoy it while she could.
When his growling breaths began to hitch, and his thrusts to stammer against the backs of her thighs, anticipation and grief rose in her in tandem. She couldn’t wait for this to end. She couldn’t bear for this to end.
What she didn’t expect, and what brought a fresh scream from her torn throat, was the swelling stretch at the base of his cock. He fucked her with it, popping the swell in, then out, then past her rim one last time before it locked him in place inside her. His flood of come was hot in her gut — his plaintive, moaning cry was like nothing she’d ever heard before.
Her second orgasm shocked her — the size and stretch was exquisite, and the lightning strike of climax crackled over her until her cunt pulsed once, twice, and she gushed against his thighs. The strength of it left her mind numb — she came in two more pulses, squirting hard, until she felt spent and empty.
She came back into herself as if from far away. He was still locked inside her, his body curled protectively around hers on their sides. His hand was smoothing up and down her ribs, no longer taloned and furred — instead, it was much like a hand she’d once known well. His voice was the same tender, familiar one from her waking world, soothing her with whispered endearments and promises she knew he did not intend to keep.
“Vhenan,” he called her. “My love.”
She clenched her eyes shut, trapping a sob behind her teeth.
When Ellana opened her eyes again, it was to an empty bedroom, in an empty bed. She had but two arms and one hand, both empty but for the pillow she had clenched her teeth into. With a sigh, she rose from the gentle grasp of her warm blankets and faced the day.