#i do not partake in chain asks but i am grateful all the same

[arvoze]

^_^

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[morgansunflower]

Sleepless

Tim Drake X Reader

Tim, will not rest until he finds Y/N

Tim's P. O. V

Wearing my uniform without my cowl on. I walk into Bat-cave. Bruce, requesting to speak with me. I hope he's had luck on information on, Y/N's disappearance. I haven't slept in day's, I think? Maybe weeks? I feel dehydrated and exhausted, but I can't take a moment not looking for anything that could give me information on where she is. Y/N, disappeared 3 weeks ago. I can't stop feeling worry, loneliness and a wave of remorse. I should have been there to protect her. I have to find her. I can't rest until I have her back in my life. She makes me feel alive, she makes smile and she makes me laugh. She's so beautiful and kind. She drives me crazy sometimes because I can't stop thinking about her. She always made me take care of myself when I was consumed with work, patrol and the team. I always felt like something was missing in my life before I met her. I stop by the Bat-computer where Bruce sits on his chair. Please tell me the Batman has found something. I've been rethinking the night she disappeared every time I close my eyes. He spun in his chair looking at me. I feel my stomach aching for food. My body wanting to shut down. Though my love and need to find, Y/N is too important.

"have you found any information on, Y/N" please say something to give me hope

"you're not taking care of your--" I cut him off

"I have more pressing matters to worry with, than myself"

I'm being hostile and rude I know I should be grateful for his help. I can't grasp my temper and control it. He stood folding his arm's with a stern look on his face. Bruce, usually does but if feels more of disappointment. I feel, ashamed because not only have I disappointed my adopted dad, I'm scared I'll disappoint, Y/N.

"and how do you expect to save her when you are malnourished? If you continue to neglect yourself than you are in no way capable of partaking in patrol and saving, Y/N"

I snap back "I am not risking a moment to take care of myself when Y/N could be--" hurt more than likely, de--my gut turns into knots at, those worrying thoughts. I can't even say that word "I have to keep looking, Bruce"

He points to his chair with a stern look on his face "sit down" he demanded

I did as he said. I sit on his chair feeling relief in my legs. Bruce, opened the fridge that was by the Bat-computer. He grabbed a water bottle. I put my hand on my forehead. My head throbbing from a migraine starting to linger. I've been trying to fight. He opened the top of the bottle. I don't want to know how thirsty she is, how scared she must be. I doubt whomever had the nerve to take her away from me doesn't care about her well-being.

"Bruce, I-I-I" my brittle voice not allowing me to go on with my sentence without tears. I can't, I have to keep looking I'm wasting my time, what if she needs me right now? What if she only has a second before--

"drink the damn water, son" his voice was stern but caring

'Timmy, babe please don't torture yourself' I hear Y/N's voice say in my mind. I took the water bottle I drank the water gulping until I drank the entire bottle. I abruptly threw it in the trash can. I stood, I'm so angry. I should be able to find her! I should have never let us separate. This is all my fault. I feel my heart racing sweat dripping on my face.

"Tim"

"what?!" I snapped back at Bruce with a clinched jaw. I took a deep breath "I'm sorry I just am soo angry "

"I know"

"I-I am better than this! I'm the smartest person" I kicked the chair abruptly "but I can't even find the one person I love!"

I grip my hair taking a deep breath. I hear footsteps, my brother's. I took the elevator to the Manor. I open my bedroom door and went inside. I slam the door behind me. I plop on the bed. I rethink about those last moment's with her. We we're in Arkham, all the criminals were loose. We each separated to cover more ground. Afterwards each criminal was, accounted for. Then our coms went to static. I went to Y/N's tracker. I came to halting stop by the drop off for prisoners of the building. I only found her gear on the floor with blood. I ran test it was only her blood. No fingerprints, all the criminals were in their cell. I can't shake the feeling that she's in the most obvious place. I went back to Arkham in my Red-Robin uniform alone. When we were there the power was out so looking through the security cameras was not an option. By the time the back up generator began to come on, she was gone. I stood in the place we found her gear. I remember seeing her blood the gut wrenching feeling I have yet to shake. I shut my eye's I imagine, Y/N standing here. I walk to the window and wonder. Could someone have broken in, why would someone break into a prison? Someone must have used an outside man to get him out. Y/N, was in the way he knocked her out. I look out the window in the distance, those tire tracks are from a, S. W. A. T truck. I text, Jim asking if he has any missing vehicles.

-you're a smart kid where'd you find it? (Jim)

I feel my heart drop. Using my spy-contact's I look at the current account of Arkham inmates and compare to the night she disappeared. All criminals here the same night Y/N disappeared. I watch the security footage from the satellite Bruce had. I see the two men sneaking into the S. W. A. T car. I zoom in, Joker! Which means he got out put a different man in his place. A perfect cover. I watch the vehicle with Batman's satellite. Joker, pulled away from the security cameras. The other man in Joker's attire with his clown look. He went inside I look at the time. 1:30 o'clock Y/N's tracker went of at 1:35. I continued watching I see Joker dragging Y/N's unconscious body to the S. W. A. T vehicle. What has he done to her? I know what he did to Jason. I feel sick. I look for any reports of suspected Joker sightings. Nothing. I told Jim I needed to talk to 'Joker'. I'm doing this myself. He opened the cell

"you sure you want to do this kid? I can call, Batman"

I ignore Jim's worried statement. I stepped in seeing the man. Sitting on the chair in front of the table with a deck of cards. It took everything in me, not to strangle him for allowing Joker to escape and take, Y/N. I hear my intercom I ignored. I sat down on the chair in front of the table. Just has I suspected, not Joker. No belittling remarks, his demeanor of a sane man not of a sick psychopath and no laugh. I grabbed his collar with my hands. I lost it. My control to use my brain over my brawn.

"do you have any idea what you have done?! Where is he?! Where's Joker?!" I lifted him slamming him to the wall the white makeup wiping off his face "where is he?!" I demanded

I am not the strongest amongst the, Robin's. I almost always use my brain. Though my strength is serving well in this predicament.

"I-I ain't afraid of Y-you kid"

I move him away from the table and then slam him to the wall. I am better than this but I can't waste time.

"your trembling voice and trembling voice say otherwise. Where is he?!"

"I-I don't know"

I believe him. I let go of him he fell to the ground as the door opened. I see, Jim

"Joker's, escaped"

I step to leave I'm going to find her, I have to find her. Then I'm bringing her home and she'll never leave my sight again. I finally have a lead off. I can find out where Joker was, headed then I can find where he is and then I can find my girlfriend. I finally found the vehicle only painted as cliché circus colors. It was parked behind a old abandoned warehouse. I walk to the vehicle. The back chained shut. I use the lazer on my smart watch cutting it. I open it my heart breaks. Blood stains everywhere, old enough to pinpoint back to when she was captured. I feel sick, scared but my hope that she's alive. Is the only thing keeping me going. I snuck into the building through a broken window. I stood on the loft. I look down seeing, Y/N! Sitting on a chair. Her feet tied to the legs and her arms tied behind her back. I see, Joker with a crowbar. I jumped down. He laughed his evil laugh with his back arched.

"ha! Ha! Ha! Haha! Ha! Little red Bird-Y boy, we've been expecting you!"

"get the fuck away from her" I demanded

"ha! Ha! Ha! Lose the chance to break ya! Piece by piece until you--" I threw my batarang at him. He ricochet it with the crowbar

I grabbed my bow staff pushing the button expanding it. Joker, swung abruptly right. I block his blow with my staff. I push him before he could retaliate I abruptly poke the end of my bow staff at his chest. He stepped backwards. He laughs again. He then swings aiming at my head with his left arm. I arch my back. As my back is arched I swing my bow staff at his feet to cause him to fall. Joker, fell and swiftly stood.

"ha! Ha! Ha! Nice try little bird"

I hear something behind me, Batman. I take a silent breath of relief. I've been holding back because I'm so filled with rage. He hurt, Y/N he hurt someone who I love most in the world. I don't know how I'm going to heal with that anger, but I know with Y/N anything is possible.

"ha! Haha! Batsy, came along to play"

Out of respect, for my mentor as well as my only father figure and that Y/N needs me.

"he's all yours" I say to Bruce

I ran to her. I ran faster than I ever thought I was possible of running. Though I felt I couldn't run fast enough. My heart racing. First thing first untie her and get her medical attention. Let her heal before I kiss her deep enough to lead to more.

"ha! Haha! Run run has fast as you can--" I hear, Batman punch him. Better bat's than me. I honestly don't know if I can spare him much pain for what he did to Y/N

I quickly untie her as she cried. My heart drops to my gut. My breaths heavy I stutter under my breath holding my tears back.

"shhhh, it's OK you're OK, Y/N you're safe now, I'm here"

I look at Y/N's tightly shut eye's "H-how d-do you know my name" she fearfully questions

"Y/N" Please remember me "it's me, open your eye's. I promise you everything is OK"

She opens her eye's and sobs "T-Tim-my"

I gasp in relief. My heart jumps in relief I held her. She buried her face in my neck. She clinched onto my cape. She sobbed, racking her body. I began to cry that turned to sobs. I gently rock her side to side. She's really here, she's in my arm's. For the first time since she's been gone. I can breath with ease. I feel wholesome. I feel calm. I feel like I'm going to be OK. I have a reason to fall asleep.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N" I choke on my sobs

She kisses my neck "shhhh, just hold me"

[ebbforeman]

The Court of Fen’Harel

                                     Chp 2 Heir of the Empire

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24574054/chapters/59348788

He watched her glide and twirl across the polished ballroom floor. How ethereal she looks , he thought, as his eyes tracked her around the room. Ashalle glowed, brilliant and bright like the light of the sky’s largest star. She wore a gown of samite made of the purest green and inlaid with emeralds and sapphires. Selfishly, he imbued the gown with magic, so she and she alone stood out among the court. Courtier cheered and applauded their queen, the children of Elvhen: those of broken Dalish clans who were once scattered across Thedas, and the downtrodden of the alienages who once clung to the fragmented faith of the lost culture they never knew. Now, all were equal, Lords and Ladies made anew, because he had deemed it so.

He sat on an ornate chair of gold and ebony upon the dais, elevated high so that he could watch and see all the festivities occurring in the ballroom. He had always enjoyed the heat of the dance, the thrill and excitement of seedy gossip, and the allure of lust, desire and prestige. In his youth the attraction of such spectacles had been undeniable in the fade. Like a moth enraptured by the intoxicating orange glow of a burning flame, it lured him in with the promise of wonder and indulgence. In his court the same was true, albeit he hoped for fewer scandals and attempted murders, the balls he hosted had become a reflection of those once thrown in Halamshiral.

“You dance beautifully, My lady Ashalle.” Briala said, “But now, perhaps you should rest a moment.”

“ Ar lasa mala revas , Briala.” Ashalle said, her crimson painted lips parting to show a genuine smile. “You don’t have to watch me so closely. I am safer here than anywhere else, go, enjoy yourself and the ball.”

Briala glanced quickly at him, the movement so subtle that an untrained eye may have missed it. Her duty was clear, she was to assist and guard his queen - to lay down her life even, should she be called to do so. In this new world where he created the shadows of the strings, the puppeteer masterfully guiding what he created without revealing the hand behind it all, he required all of his agents to be at his disposal - to be dualistic - and Briala was no exception.

To his court she played the role of handmaiden, begrudgingly of course, for Briala believed her calling higher than that of one rooted in servitude. She proved her resourcefulness in addition to usefulness and he quickly noted in order to gain the trust of the elven people that Briala would be the key. Once she had been called ambassador - a voice for the invisible in Orlais - speaking against an empire that refused to acknowledge the rights of all it’s people and many still viewed her favorably, the champion of the people during the time they deemed the reign of the shemlen.

“If you prove to me that you can protect her, watch her, and ensure that our child is safe from all harm then we will speak more of your role,” he told her, when she called for an audience in his study. “For now, help me guide her.”

“For all the trouble you have gone through in order to ensure the elven people were restored to power, you keep your lady Inquisitor, chained on a tight leash.” Briala nearly sneered, “I am no babysitter. Do not forget that I once controlled the largest network of spies across Thedas, and the Eluvians with them.”

“You will do well to remember that it was because of me that you were allowed to do so. My spies placed you in the position to seize such control and to gain power to sway the Eluvians.” he said calmly, hands firmly behind his back. “And Ashalle is no longer the inquisitor, she is your queen. Show her the respect she deserves.”

“While she may be queen and you a king, be careful of how high you climb, Lord Fen’Harel. For as I once warned the nobility of Orlais, you may believe the elven people lost, mere insects scurrying beneath your feet, but so are wasps, and even the wisest man knows better than to poke the nest.”

He had chuckled, amused by her childish threats. “Fear not, Briala. I am well aware of the needs of the people, go now and do as I have asked. Once my heir is born, we will speak more of how you may aid them.”

Two weeks had passed since then and Briala had grown more so restless than before. He locked eyes with her, his magic demanding her to heed him, his warnings and his power, and to bring his love to him. She obliged, although her will fought against the pull of his own.

“My lady, I can hardly enjoy myself while you struggle to maintain your balance.” Briala offered her hand, “I will help you to your seat so that you can catch your breath.”

Several moved aside for Ashalle as Briala guided her through the swell of the crowd. A man, once a lowly servant at the Winter Palace, bowed to her and pressed a soft kiss to her hand as she passed. His dark hair was pulled back from his face in a tight bun atop his head to reveal gaunt cheeks dusted with the traces of vallaslin. Eyes the color of midnight lowered respectfully and he moved to offer an elaborately draped extended arm to Ashalle.

“Lord Harwyn, I would gladly accept your offer as escort. If nothing else it would give Briala a well deserved break.” Ashalle laughed, accepting his hand.

“It is a gentleman’s duty to offer such assistance!” Harwyn proclaimed joyfully, “The beautiful lady Briala is more than welcome to join the rest of the court to partake in the ball and feel as ease knowing I will ensure her majesty makes it safely to the king.”

Briala scoffed, unappeased by Harwyn’s flattery, but nevertheless acquiesce to his request due to her desire not to cause a scene. “Please be mindful of my lady’s condition. She carries the king’s heir.” And with skirts flaring Briala melted into the immaculately dressed throngs of guests, her cinnamon-brown hair swirling in curled ringlets behind her.

Charming , he mused thoughtfully, He is a natural. I chose well when I elevated him to the status of High Lord of Autumn . He followed their movements up the marble stair, passed the sentinels standing at attention, alert and focused, in gilded golden and green scaled armor, and then to the dais where her chair resided to his right of his own. “ Ma vhenan …” he breathed as Ashalle drew near. He inhaled the sweet smell of her perfume, one thing he refused to allow her to change, Sandalwood and rosewater, the tantalizing scent of their courtship, from a time and place that resided solely in the deepest of dreams.

“Lord Harwyn, I am grateful for you returning my queen to me.” he smiled, “She has been sorely missed.”

Ashalle leaned forward, to the best of her abilities with the state of her growing belly, and greeted her king with the lightest of kisses. She had become awkward in her pregnancy, even weaker in some regards, and was prone to fainting spells and sudden weariness. He was partially to blame for the...undo side effects. The spell he gifted Briala compromised his love, altered aspects of her fortitude and shear strength of her will. A necessary sacrifice. She need not fight any more wars, and there were no battles he would ask her to take up arms for. That part of her life was done. So long as he drew breath, comfort and happiness would be her constant companions.

“It is my pleasure, your majesty.” Harwyn bowed, “It is the least I can do to demonstrate my fealty to you and thank you for all you have given me.”

A friend. A true friend, appreciative of his efforts of righting old wrongs. Rare though it may be, this elf...this man was trustworthy and genuine. He would do well to keep Harwyn close in the days to come.

“ Ir abelas, ma vhenan ,” Ashalle sighed as she took her place beside him. “I wanted to enjoy the excitement of the ball, before my time nears.”

“Ashalle, there will be many more. You need not worry about missing them, I shall host as many as your heart desires. Anything to keep you happy.” he reached for her hand and laced his fingers within hers. “All of the court will await your return, that I promise you.”

“His majesty speaks the truth, my lady. Our radiant queen with molten hair of silver and starlight, your name remains prevalent on the lips of the people.” he smiled again, “how fortunate we are to have such a woman of your esteem to rule beside our king. Peace and prosperity for the elven people thanks in no small part to you, my queen and lady Inquisitor .”

Ashalle scrunched her face curiously at the foreign title and then looked to Solas. “I’m not familiar with that name. Is this some new style our people have awarded me?”

There was a shift in his face, swift and silent like rolling grey clouds before a summer storm. “I believe Lord Harwyn is mistaken, forgive him vhenan. Perhaps the wine has gotten the better of him?”

“What is an inquisitor, I’ve never heard of such a thing…” she paused, her face thoughtful as if searching through her mind for a forgotten memory or missing piece of knowledge. “And yet, I feel as if...Ah!” she gasped and placed fluttering, worried fingers on top of her belly. “I’m sorry, the baby - it is a good thing that Briala urged me to rest. Our little one appears to be upset with me.”

He narrowed his eyes at Lord Harwyn. Perhaps reeducation was necessary before trusting him fully. It was a mistake, an error in judgment, and he understandably misspoke out of respect for Ashalle. Yes, he need not be punished, at least not just yet. “Please excuse us, Lord Harwyn. Right now I must attend to my wife and our child, I will seek you out at another time to discuss matters of the Autumn realm.”

Harwyn bowed and then departed. With any luck he would be able to smooth over the slip of the lordling’s tongue and ease Ashalle’s troubled mind. He could sense her frustration through their bond, the mating bond established by ancient elven rituals of love making, soft magic and silent prayer. Some would claim it was blood magic, but the joining of each other’s essence - their very life’s blood and energy - enabled him to understand every fiber of her being better anyone could ever hope or claim to. He placed a cool, calm hand over her own easing both her mind and the fretting mind of the child.

“Calm yourself, da’len. You have no reason to worry, it was but a mistake. Nothing more.”

She sighed, “I suppose you are right. Just so strange - even when I was with my clan, I never heard of such a thing...an inquisitor, must be a one of those shemlen words.”

The tips of his fingers began to glow brightly. He fanned them out across her belly and watched as the soft kicks from the child within slowed and then stopped. “You are correct. It is a word for a person who represents the formation of an organization that no longer exists. The People are all the better for it, although the organization accomplished much, it unfortunately befell the same fate as all shemlen constructs - greed and corruption. And such are a taint to everything and everyone. You needn't worry yourself over it.”

Ashalle nodded and settled herself on her cushioned seat. She looked downward at all the beautiful faces of the elven people gathered merrily on the ballroom floor. Each lord and lady dressed in the colors of their chosen realm. A woman with hair warm as honey wore a gown of amber, umber, yellow ochre and inlaid with stitching of crimson and gold - a lady of Autumn. Two men beside her wore the colors of Spring: pale lilac, salmon and evergreen on their doublets and surcoats. One by one from the North to the South, the elven people of the seasoned realms arrived in all their finery to assist Ashalle and Solas in celebrating the impending arrival of their heir. She looked around once more, peering in-between newly erected wolf statues of gold and bronze with watchful eyes of obsidian.

“Where is Abelas,” she asked, cradling the lower swell of her stomach. “He promised to be here, you did ask him here, didn’t you Solas?”

“ Atish’an my love, peace.” he said, soothing her once more. “He will be here. Abelas was investigating something for me, he promised to return before the night’s end. Give him time. It’s been a month’s journey - I’m sure he will be tired.”

She leaned back disappointed. Ashalle had grown fond of the looming elven mage. His tales of the days of old, when the gods and goddess lived and breathed among the elves, entertained her and filled her with a hopeful light. Foolishly, she mistook Solas for the hero of these tales, a reincarnated god come to save the People, as those of the elven pantheon once did. He was no god, but instead a man determined to restore things as they once were, sacrificing his own life if necessary to accomplish his goal.

The music on the floor grew and swelled in a majestic crescendo and the shuffling of feet and rustle of skirts could be heard, blending in time with the lovely sound. The band was perfect, much like the evening itself. He was enjoying himself more than should admit. It had been some time since he’d attended a ball, not since he and Ashalle’s time at the Winter Palace. It was where they met Harwyn, and where Ashalle somehow intervened and negated the political manipulations of the empress, grand duke, and duchess. But oh, how they danced the night away afterwards. He reached for her hand, pulling it toward his lips, and pressed a gentle kiss to her knuckles. It was a fond memory, even if he was the only one who remembered it.

“Do you plan to meet with the Council of Seasons this evening?” she asked, just as the music finished and the partnered dancers turned to extend their appreciation to one another.

His head snapped around quickly to face her, utterly surprised. “How did you learn of the meeting?”

“Was it a secret?” her tone went cold. “Do you plan to keep me ignorant and sheltered in my own home, Solas? If you have concerns, I would hope you would share them with the mother of your child, not keep them from me.”

He had failed again at not causing her pain. “You are right, as always. I only sought to shield your heart from any worries or troubles. You deserve nothing but comfort and ease until our child is born, that is all I wished to give you.”

“Is that why Abelas has not returned, due to some errand you have asked of him?”

“No, Abelas and I share similar concerns regarding...the future of our beautiful empire. Seems fitting, I suppose, that he retained the name sorrow after all this time. He is determined to be more grim and fatalistic than I, and that vhenan is a rare accomplishment.”

The ringing of the bell signaled the beginning of dinner, the first course came forth in a rush of fragrant scents and aromas. Silver platters filled with honeyed roasted boar on a bed of potatoes, carrots and barley; sweet greens mixed with chopped nuts and dates, and stuffed pheasant overflowing with cinnamon glazed apples, cloves, walnuts and onions. Endless bowls of soup followed, from leek and garlic, to a hearty rustic tomato paired with baskets of warm oak bread.

“You’re not eating?” he asked, his own spoonful of soup poised before his lips. “Are you feeling alright?”

Ashalle waved away another offer of food. “I’m fine, Solas, I’ve just lost my appetite.” She stood to leave, the chair slid back - the sound of wood against marble echoed off the walls like the pounding thud of tiny fists - and excused herself from the ballroom. Briala took her position beside Ashalle, her eyes full of what could have passed for a maternal, if not, familial concern for his love, and helped her from the grand ballroom on hand on the small of her back and the other minding the length of her skirts.

---

“There has been no sign of the Evanuris.” Lord Harwyn said, “I have sent my best spies to every corner of the Autumn realm, and they have returned with nothing - not even whispers.”

“Is that not good news?” questioned Deshanna Istimaethoriel. The ex-clan keeper turned her focus to the young lord and then to her king. Once he tore down the veil and the remaining (or rather surviving) elven clans emerged, she guided her people with a calm, steady hand to the edges of the Arlathan Forest and for the first time in well over a two thousand years finally settled down and established a home. Her status was quickly elevated, in part due to her wise and thoughtful decisions, but largely thanks to her history and relationship with Ashalle. High Lady of Spring, she was called now, and it well suited her. “Given what our king has shared, the truth of our pantheon, it is safe to assume they will be vengeful for what they deem wrongful imprisonment.”

He tapped his fingers along the arm of his chair. The council chamber was grand and richly furnished. With a wide sweeping vaulted ceiling that seemed to pierce the sky itself, and ornate arches marking the windows and door inlaid with humming magic and gold - the chamber seeped power. Along the walls were woven tapestries from all across Thedas depicting stories and legends of Fen’Harel and those who sought him out during the rebellion, told in every beautiful, rich vibrant color known to elven kind. And of course near the door marked twin wolves, tall and proud with teeth bared and with polished eyes of onyx set in fierce marble and granite faces.

“I had suspected as much before I called this meeting,” he said finally. “They are not brash, nor unthinking. Patiently they have waited, lurking in the shadows for millennia, biding their time for the most opportune moment. That moment will be a time of great vulnerability to me.”

“The birth,” Abelas sneered. “They will strike down the child and then Ashalle.”

“Yes, I believe so as well, old friend.”

“How can we be certain they are still alive?” Flavius, the High Lord of Winter, asked. “As you have said yourself, when you created the veil and banished the Evanuris - the magic of immorality all but vanished.”

“If there is but the slightest chance that Evanuris yet live, then they will continue to be a threat to all the elven people, not just to myself and my family.” he said calmly, his cool and even. “I will protect the People, as I did before, and the empire I have created for them. While I sought to undo all that has been done, I refuse to allow the Evanuris to return to power or to enslave the People once more.”

Abelas crossed his arms over his chest, his pale face pinched in anger. “I would see justice for Mythal, Dread Wolf. For once my people protected her shrine and all that was her essence, and desired nothing more preserve all she was - the murder cannot go unpunished.”

The high lords and ladies of the seasons all glanced at one another nervously. To them, this was still new, unnerving and frightening. Long they once thought the pantheon of gods, the Creators, nothing more than myths and legends of their culture, but now they feared the wrath of the self-proclaimed would-be-gods. The truth is far worse than they truly realize , he thought sorrowfully, his own brows drawn, with the veil destroyed the Evanuris will not rest until they have won or destroyed the world in the process.

Falon snorted loudly and straightened his collar. He wore a doublet of richly made velvet, with swirling colors of crimson and orange that bled together like a bleeding sunset. A cloth-of-gold cape was draped over his shoulders with bursting suns embroidered on it. Falon was once a hunter for clan Ghilain, descendant from Inquisitor Ameridan, renown for his skill with a bow and his uncanny insight, his clan agreed that he would do well as lord of their people. And why wouldn’t he? His kills kept them fed in harsh times, and the pelts from those same kills kept them warm and clothed and additionally offered materials for trade among other clans and even human merchants. Now he reigned as High Lord of Summer, a fitting title for one who’s preference it was to bask in the illuminating glow of praise, warm and strong like the heat of summer. “I say we hunt them down like dogs.”

“Gods or no, they are not so easily killed as that.” he said with a small smile on his lips. “Believe me, da’len, if it had been that simple I would have gladly slaughtered them all eons ago to free the elves and avenge Mythal.”

The amber eyed youth’s frown only deepened. “That is the past. We have loved ones to think of, friends and family, not age old ancestors whom we’ve never met and are a thousand years dead.”

“Guard your tongue,” Abelas growled, extending a gloved finger. “ One who does not respect the past possesses no true future.”

Ariane brushed strands of auburn hair from her face. She was a very feminine beauty for a hunter, her features soft and delicate like that of a child, but behind her brown eyes the strength of an old soul. “Perhaps we should revisit this at a later date. We will accomplish nothing by arguing or shouting.” The Guardian of the Crossroads offered, her voice soothing and gentle. “My people will continue to watch the labyrinth for any sign of the Creators, er the Evanris, should they appear we will inform you at once.”

“Thank you, Ariane. All of you, thank you for your time. I agree, let us shelve this for another time.” he sighed, “It has been a long day and I would rather like to return to my queen.”

All stood, nodded in agreement and then bowed to their king before quickly shuffled from the room, except for Abelas, who lingered behind with his mouth fixed into a hard line. “Time is not on our side. You may regret putting off today what could have saved us all tomorrow.”

“Perhaps tomorrow will offer us more than sorrow, Abelas. With luck, tomorrow might offer hope instead. But please, enough of this.” He pushed back from the table and stood abruptly. Abelas remained where he was, his gaunt face a near mask made from stone. “Will you go to her, not now, but when there is time...when you have time? She values your companionship and holds you very dear in her heart.”

Abelas only grunted, the hood from his cloak shielding his emotions from Solas. Not much had changed of the sentinel who once watched over the Temple of Mythal. With the wisp of immortality restored some color had returned to his skin, and even youthful locks of grey-white hair covered his head. He wore the silken strands in a braided fashion with the sides of his long narrow face and shaven clean. Experience, age, time, youth, and rejuvenation all blended together in the tall, strong frame of the elf.

“I will go to her, if she calls.” Abelas said after time. He departed with a diminutive bow and left Solas to his thoughts.

Free to seek out his queen he abandoned all thoughts of the Evanuris. He walked the long stone corridors of his home, hands interlaced behind his back, with the soft glow of fire illuminating his way. Statues of the fabled Emerald Knights stood sentinel along the walls. All nineteen, proud and true elves, peered down at him with judgement in their stone eyes. They were from a time when the elven nation still existed, albeit the shadow of what it once was, the knights stood vigilant and protected the Dales against the thoughtless actions of humans. He lingered on the last, Lindiranae, the last knight to wield the Evanura, the mystic blade blessed by the god June, and the last to fall in battle. Pure and righteous, she stood against the Orlesian forces and refused to yield in the face of defeat. Yes, a worthy name .

He pressed on, knowing where his love was without a second thought. Up a spiral stair and into a tower, he found her sitting on the window seat in the nursery. Her gown had been discarded for something more comfortable, if not more breathable for her expanding waist. Ashalle gazed out of the window aimlessly, her eyes glazed with a hazy longing for sleep, as if on the precipice of dreaming without being asleep. Her hair fell in tumbles around her, spilling over her shoulders in a waterfall of silver and white. He had never seen anyone more beautiful.

He went to her and stood behind the frame of the window, his shoulders pressed against the stone so he could see what she did. “I have upset you again, haven’t I”

“No.” she whispered. “I am not upset with you.”

He laid a hand on her shoulder and leaned down to press a kiss to the back of her head. “Then if I have offended you somehow - “

“I am afraid, Solas.” Ashalle pulled away and walked toward the crib tucked in the corner of the tower chamber. “I am afraid for our child and what they will be born into.”

Immediately he followed and took her into his arms. “You have nothing to fear, my love. All is as it should be. We are happy and well, and our child grows strong inside of you with each passing day.” He placed his large palm on her belly, sensing the surge and stirrings of magic pulse from the child. “They will be a gifted mage, and possess a natural talent with magic.”

Ashalle laughed despite herself. “They have their father to thank for that. He was the original self-taught mage, after all.”

He joined her, a smile spreading across his own face. “Well, that is not entirely true, but I appreciate the sentiment nevertheless.”

She turned to face him and laid her face against his chest. Ashalle inhaled his scent as she listened to the steady rhythm of his beating heart. Solas felt her trembling within his arms, it saddened him greatly to see her in such a state...but there was nothing he could do for her but comfort her with reassurance. The truth would break her. Everything would be perfect, it must be. In time, in due time everything would reveal itself - and he would make her understand why he did all that he did to make her happy.

“If our child is a girl,” he started, tangling his fingers in her hair. “What are your opinions on the name Lindiranae?”

[conant21]

Heart of Iron

Sorry for the wait, my finals just finished so I should have more time to write. I am really excited where this is going. I have mapped out the rest of the chapters and I think I have an idea of who the reader ends up with but y'all have to wait. As always I hope you enjoy this chapter!!! Let me know what y'all think 

Prologue: The beginning  

Chapter One – Ophelia

April 6th, 2009…Two years later

It had been two years’ worth of training to get to the physical level of field agent. The SHEILD Academy of Operations had been home and had felt less like that in the past few months. Looking around your room, you spotted the picture of your dad... No, Tony you were as good as a stranger at this point. you knew that he would be proud of your work regardless, yet you had lied to him, faked your death and for that you could never show your face, at least not yet. “You ready the graduation ceremony is going to start soon and come on now you’re like the youngest agent to graduate,” yells Bobbi Morse a person whom you have grown to love as a sister. It felt nice to have someone look after you, she had taken you under her wing once you had entered the academy. The two of you had been roommates and with that, she showed you the ropes and ever since then you were thick as thieves. “Hey, you’re not even done packing! Come on you should be happy we finally get to head out to the field,” she exclaims walking in, “Oh I was just thinking about things…don’t give me that look Bob I am fine.” “Sure, whatever come on you can finish packing once the ceremony is over. I heard that the director would be present.” Getting off your bed, you joined Bobbi walking down towards the training yards. As you walked together giggling like school girls, a voice was calling out your name, spinning on your heel a short man, little bit on the chubby side, was surging forward towards the two of you. “Hello, I am Agent Billy Koenig, I was sent to take you to a debriefing.” Looking over at Bobbi who appears to be analyzing this strange man. “Umm… I wasn’t aware of any briefing. I was on my way to the graduating ceremony. I didn’t think I was an agent yet?” “Oh, it’s not that type of meeting come along it won’t take that long,” he replied already walking towards his destination. Looking towards Bobbi shrugging your shoulders, you told her that you would catch later, you rushing to keep up with Agent Koenig. After walking into the conference wing of the building, you finally asked whom your meeting was with. “You will see. This classified level 10 type of information I won’t be joining you, but Good luck!” replied Agent Koenig, giving one last look he shuffled off. Preparing yourself for whomever was on the other side of the oak doors, you pushed them open to be greeted by darkness. “Close and lock the doors,” replied a guff voice. Looking up a figure was standing behind the table. He was dressed in all black a long leather trench coat adorned his body. Something set across the back of his head, yet you couldn’t make it out in the darkness. Turing around the man approached taking a seat in one of the many chairs. “Are you going to keep staring or are you going to join me Agent?” replied the man, “Your director fury…I-I-I mean of cours-se you are I am sorry I wasn’t expecting you,” you could already feel the blush rising to your face. Waving a hand “It’s alright Agent Stark, I needed this to remain between the two of us without the knowledge of other Agents,” he paused, “I am hear to talk to you today about I mission. As you are aware you are the one of the youngest to leave the academy as an Agent, yet I would like to think this wasn’t some random occurrence. You know about the founders of SHEILD, your grandfather would be proud of you continuing the Stark legacy within SHEILD. This mission I am about to ask you… it will be hard, and I would understand if you have your doubts, but I can see you becoming one the finest Agents SHEILD has ever produced.”  He paused for a moment looking at you as if he could see through to your soul. “What do you know of hydra?” “I know that is was a rouge Nazi science division that Captain America took down once he killed the Red Skull,” you knew that confusion was clear on your face, yet you still had little to none understanding of why he was asking about Hydra. “What if I were to tell you that Hydra is very much alive. We have been gathering reports of such in eastern Europe. I would like to believe that it’s a small group trying to cause trouble again; which is why we need you.” “Me sir?” “Yes, we would like for you to infiltrate Hydra and work your way up the chain of command relaying information directly to me. It would stay between the two of us and Agent Hill; meaning you would seem a traitor in the eyes of SHIELD if you are caught or until we are able to take them down.” You stared at him in shock. you had never once in your life gone undercover, you were no Natasha Romanoff, yet he asked you an untested field agent to carry out a mission that many senior agents would be afraid to take on. “Sir, I am grateful for this opportunity, but are you sure that I am the best choice for this…I have never been in the field, Sir.” “That is where you are wrong Agent you being untested means that Hydra has yet to see you, they can train you to fight in their style. I personally think you are more than ready for this, but I understand if you don’t wish to partake.” Siting there for a moment your mind races looking for a reason to not accept, yet you kept coming to the same conclusion: you had none. Your father he is-is well coping, and you and Bobbi will be separated after today.  “Yes” You reply within a heartbeat looking up at the director. “Very good your personal effects are being removed as we speak; you will be leaving now with agent Hill she will help you make contact then you will be contacting me only after that” he replied standing from his chair walking towards the doors. “Good luck Y/F/N.”

April 20th, 2009

Walking down the cold streets of Budapest, you shove your hands in your fraying coat. It had been two weeks since you had gotten your assignment from Fury. You had been dropped off at a safe house and given a new identity. Ophelia Sarkissian; orphaned at the age of 9 you had been living of the streets for years and acquiring skills that the right person would notice. Your appearance remained mostly the same, yet the differences would be noticeable to those who knew you from the academy. Your hair had lost its shine and your eyes told stories of pain and hardship. Looking over your shoulder as you passed the rundown corner store you noticed men following you yet trying to remain inconspicuous. Finally, you thought, Hydra had finally noticed you. Pulling a cigarette from your coat’s pocket you lit it, standing in the entrance to an ally with your head down low waiting. A shuffling noise caught your ear from behind you. Turing around you noticed that the ally was empty. Tires screeching from the street before you could turn around. Men jumped out of a dark van grabbing you, cigarette falling from your mouth in the shuffle. In the unmarked van a dark bag was placed on your head blocking your sight from your captors. “Make a sound and you die,” came a voice from your right. Under the bag you smiled, little did they know it was you who captured them.

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