#that's up next after i finish replying to the ch22 comments

[syndrossi]

there's always an uptick in hits wednesday night that makes me think either wednesday is just a popping day of the week or people are refreshing to see if the new chapter's out yet

[imwastingmylifeinhere]

Magnus Chase and the Obligatory Hogwarts Au Ch22

Hello, folks! I have an important announcement to make! My sister (remember her?) read this story because she was bored and liked it so she wanted to make some fanart! She has only finished one of the pieces as of now, but once she finishes all of them I'll post them on my tumblr. Tbh, I'm announcing this now so she won't lazy out on me ;) Anyway, enjoy some angst and fluff!

“And the Second Task is over, ladies and gentlemen! Magnus Chase is the victor of this task, with Raphael Beaumont in second place and Helga Leifsson in third!”

The Hall of the Slain was filled with clapping and cheering. Magnus had only stopped kissing Alex when Thor had made a comment about “young love” but he was still hugging her. He helped her get off the table despite her protests – he was afraid that she would feel dizzy or unsteady on her feet because of the poison and he didn’t want her to fall down and get hurt. She wasn’t happy about being treated so softly – “I’m not made from glass, Magnus, I can stand up without help” – but Magnus was prepared to put up with her complaining if it meant she would be ok. She swayed a bit when she stood up and she would have stumbled and fallen down if it wasn’t for Magnus’s arm under her armpit and around her back. He raised an eyebrow at her, smile tugging at his lips and she elbowed him in the ribs. He laughed and pecked her on the cheek.

Louis had woken up by now and he was sitting up on his table, Raphael next to him. The Beauxbatons Champion was hugging him close and Magnus saw his lips moving as he whispered things to him in French. Louis was hugging him back with a content smile on his lips, whispering back to his boyfriend and running his fingers through his curls to soothe him. When Raphael finally pulled himself away from Louis it was to pepper kisses all over the blonde’s face. There were tears in his eyes and it was clear to anyone watching that he was beyond happy that Louis was alright.

Agatha was awake too. She was the last to be given the antidote, just bare minutes before the time limit, but she was awake and well. The moment she woke up and sat up on the table, looking like nothing had happened and she had never been poisoned, Helga had collapsed in her arms and started sobbing. The blonde girl had been surprised, of course, but she quickly hugged her best friend back and started tracing circles on her back to cal her down. It only seemed to make her cry harder.

As the three Champions were reuniting with their loved ones, the audience was let out of the stands. Most didn’t bother going near the Champions to congratulate them; it was clear they had eyes for no one else but their ‘treasure’ right now. The ones who did were each Champion’s closest friends.

The whole group – Sam, Amir, T.J, Mallory and Halfborn – went straight to Magnus and Alex. The smiles on their faces were wide and the enveloped Magnus and Alex in a hug the moment they were close to them. Sam, like the mum friend she was, hugged them like they had just come back from saving the world. T.J, Mallory and Amir were hugging them as well and they were all held inside Halfborn’s big arms. All in all, Magnus and Alex felt like they were being killed by hugs.

“You did it!” Mallory said, maybe a bit too loudly in his ears. There were congratulations coming from every side and he wasn’t able to figure out who said what, but he didn’t care. After everything he went through in the Second Task, especially the boggart, he really needed the hugs.

When they finally let go – and it took a few good minutes for that – Magnus could see in the worry in their eyes and he realized it must be because of what they saw happen in the Divination classroom. Still, they didn’t bring it up and Magnus was glad about that.

Before he was able to say anything, Professor Blitzen came up from behind him and hugged him along with Professor Hearthstone. It took Magnus by surprise and his hand slipped from inside Alex’s. He was frozen inside his guardians’ embrace, rendered speechless by the sheer parental love that seemed to be oozing from them. Their hug was steady, strong, as if it was telling him “We’re here.”

When they finally pulled away they smiled at him. “We’re proud of you, buddy,” Blitzen said and Hearthstone nodded next to him.

If you ever need to talk about anything, Hearth signed, come to us. You know we love you.

“I will. Thank you,” Magnus replied, signing the words as he spoke.

Blitzen and Hearthstone smiled again at him before walking away to Professor Sif, who was calling them. Magnus was holding Alex’s hand again and he was about to say they should go see how Raphael and Louis are doing when a loud yell made everybody in the hall freeze.

“No!” A girl’s voice yelled, deafening and furious. Magnus glanced at Alex for a moment before he run through the crowd that let him pass easily.

Helga was standing there, in the middle of the ring the students had formed, her parents opposite her. There was fear but also a strange confidence in Helga’s gaze and the way she held her hand up made Magnus think that she had just yanked it away from them. She stood in front of Agatha protectively, like she wanted to shield the shorter girl from her parents’ gaze. “I’m not coming with you!”

Her parents obviously weren’t happy with that little show of defiance. Both their faces were red, shock and anger twisting their features. It probably wouldn’t take long for smoke to start coming out of Helga’s father’s ears and make his bad wig fly off his head.

“Nu, lystna härtill unga dam-” Helga’s father was saying something in Swedish and while Magnus didn’t have a clue what he was saying, it didn’t sound too good. He found himself feeling bad for Helga – it was clear from what he had heard between her and her family when he was hiding behind the tapestry that their relationship was bad at best.

“No!” Helga interrupted her father again. The sound of English coming out of her mouth seemed to make him angrier. He said something again in Swedish, probably to stop talking in English, but Helga was having none of it. “No, if you have something to say, then say it in English! A Leifsson doesn’t have something to hide, right?” Magnus would have to be stupid not to catch the bitter sarcasm in her voice at the end.

“Fine, if that’s how you want to do it,” Her father scoffed, his voice sharp and cold, his eyes even colder. Magnus couldn’t understand how he could glare at his own daughter like that, with such anger and disappointment. “I wanted to spare you the humiliation of having this talk in public, but it seems like you don’t care if your reputation suffers because of this. But then again,” he laughed, and Magnus hated the sound of it – bitter and harsh, as if he was laughing at someone so much below him, “you and your brother have already marred the Leifsson name, so what was I expecting?”

Helga’s eyes narrowed even further and her fists clenched at her sides. Her face was red with fury.  “Don’t you dare talk about Ron like that!” she growled at her father, taking a step forward. She was glaring at them with such intensity it was a wonder they hadn’t dropped dead already. Helga’s mother took a step back and her father, despite trying to hide it, was obviously shaken by her words. Magnus’s couldn’t blame them – right now, Helga was terrifying.

“Oh, please, that boy was trouble from the very begging!” Her father yelled back. Shaken or not, it seemed like he wasn’t going to let his daughter get the best of him. “No wonder he turned out the way he did!”

“Turned out what way?” Helga demanded, taking one more step forward threatenigly. Her chest was heaving and her voice deafeningly loud. She was finally letting out everything she’d bottled up and she couldn’t hold it back any longer. “Happy? Brave enough to be who he wanted despite the bullshit way you raised both of us?”

Helga’s mother gasped. “Language, young lady!”

“Oh, please,” Helga said as she rolled her eyes. The rage in her voice, in her eyes, in her whole body had made everyone in the room freeze. Agatha was still standing behind her, concern clear in her eyes, but also something else – a knowledge this had to happen. “What, are you afraid that your perfect little girl cursing will get you a bad reputation? That those stupid ‘friends’ of yours will talk about you behind your back? Newsflash, they already do!”

“We’re your parents!” her mother shot back pathetically, her voice too high-pitched. “You can’t talk about us like that!”

Helga froze for a second, mouth slightly ajar, like she couldn’t believe her mother had actually used that card. Everything was still for a single moment and then Helga erupted. “I can when you always treated Ron and me as little more than robots!” she bellowed, stepping even closer to her parents, who were looking at their daughter speechless. “We were never your children, we were just the heirs to your stupid fortune! Just another object to prove to the world and your judgmental rich friends that you had a successful life!”

There were tears running down her face now but they didn’t stop her from saying everything she’s waited so long to say. “Did you ever even care about us?” She stepped forward again. “Did you care that Ron had panic attacks because of how much you pressured him to have good grades? That he had to calm me down after I started crying every time you yelled at me for not being the perfect little princess you wanted me to be?” Her voice hitched at the end as she sobbed and she took another step. “That I had to force him to sleep or eat when he was studying because he would rather starve than face your wrath for disappointing you? That I was always ‘the Leifsson girl’ to everyone and not just myself?” Another step. “That the only reason why I managed to deal living with you after you made him leave was because Agatha and her family was there to do what you never did? That Ron was too paranoid to hold Henry’s hand because he was afraid you would somehow find out and kick him out and then I’d have to deal with you alone?”

Helga was crying hard now and her hand was buried into her hair, pulling at the strands as she laughed brokenly. “And- and that when you finally found out he was gay and you threw him out, he was happier away from you?” She pointed an accusatory finger and her parents and moved even closer to them. They didn’t move. “That he has a great career and a boyfriend that loves him that he wants to propose to even though you told him he would never amount to anything when you kicked him out? Did you care? No you didn’t, you fucking didn’t!” Her voice rose at the end and Magnus saw that her parents flinched away.

“So I don’t know why I cared!” She kept yelling, somehow getting the words out despite all her tears. “I don’t know why I cared so much about your opinion!” Another step. “Do you know how many things I did just so you would be proud of me? But did you ever say ‘good job’?” One more step. “Did you ever just pat me on the back for trying? With you it was always awards and being the best! In school,” step, “in sports,” step, “in looks,” step, “in behavior,” step, “always the best according to what you thought of as best, even if your best meant I couldn’t be who I wanted to do what I wanted.”

“Helga…” It wasn’t her father who spoke, or her mother. They weren’t apologizing for all the accusations Helga was hurling at them. No, the one who spoke was Agatha, a tentative hand on Helga’s shoulder. It seemed to calm her down because she wasn’t crying anymore and when she spoke her voice was even.

“You saw what happened with the boggart.” She spoke calmly, no longer screaming, but there was a passion in her voice. She was standing a step away from her parents, her back held straight and her eyes blazing with the bravery she needed to be facing two

The screens up on the walls were showing what had happened when Helga was facing the third guardian – she was trembling on her knees in front of an older version of herself that looked and acted just like her parents. On-screen Helga was watched in horror as her older self talked horribly to Agatha and made her cry. “I won’t be like that. I won’t be like you.”

“Fine,” her father said, his voice steely cold. “You won’t be like us then. You won’t have our name either, not unless you apologize for how you just spoke to your parents. I’m giving you one last chance, young lady”

A loud collective gasp went through the crowd of students, but Helga didn’t seem surprised. She just looked at her parents with an icy confidence. “I know I have to apologize to people. You’re not part of them.”

“Very well.” Her parents said nothing else. They turned around and left the Hall of the Slain without spare a single look for their daughter. Helga watched them go until the door slammed shut behind them.

The murmuring in the crowd got even louder when Helga’s parents left. Magnus felt awkward, like he wanted to do something but didn’t know what or how. A glance at Alex told him she felt the same way.

Helga and Agatha still stood in the middle of the circle of students that were slowly dispersing. Agatha’s face was the dictionary definition of worry but her movements when she took Helga’s hand weren’t slow or hesitant but sure. I’m here, she seemed to say. She knew Helga needed this and didn’t give her actions a second though.

Helga didn’t hesitate either; she wrapped her arms around Agatha’s back and hid her face in the crook of her neck. She started trembling as Agatha petted her hair and muffled crying laughter came out of her lips.

“Are you alright?” she asked in Swedish and while Magnus couldn’t understand the words he could understand the affection in her voice.

“I’m not,” Helga replied. “But I will be. I had to do that.”

“I know,” Agatha said back softly. She tucked a strand of Helga’s hair behind her ear and kissed her forehead. “I’m proud of you.”

A few seconds passed as they stood there. The moment felt awfully intimate and Magnus had to look away.

“There’s something else I have to do,” Helga said quietly before pulling herself out of Agatha’s arms. Much to Magnus’s surprise, she turned to them and started walking towards them. Her eyes might have still been red from tears but she had back the same confidence as always. This was the first time Magnus noticed how frail that confidence was.

Helga finally stood a few steps from Alex, looking her straight in the eye. Magnus’s friends and Agatha all looked at the two girls with curiosity, but Agatha seemed to realize what was happening because she smiled approvingly.

Despite everything that had just happened there was still hostility in Alex’s eyes; just because she could relate with Helga for shit parents didn’t mean she would forget what she did or forgive her for it so easily.

“I’m sorry,” Helga said simply. Alex just looked at her; that wasn’t enough. Helga took a deep breath and kept going. “I’m sorry,” she said again. “I know that’s not enough and I don’t expect it to be enough. I was a bitch.” The corners of Alex’s lips lifted up in the barest smiled and she nodded. “I was too much of a coward to act different than my parents. I don’t expect you to forgive me; to be honest, I wouldn’t forgive me if I were in your place. But I needed to say this.”

There was silence for a moment as Alex and Helga simply looked at each other. Magnus had to admit he admired Helga a bit for facing her fuck-ups head on like this, but he wasn’t sure he had forgiven her completely just yet.

“I won’t forgive you,” Alex finally said. “Not yet. Maybe someday, but not now. Maggie would probably forgive you more quickly but I’m not that good a person.”

Magnus let out a sound of protest at the nickname but Helga smiled. She had been expecting that. “Then I guess I should become a person worth forgiving by then, huh?”

Alex nodded. “Yep. Good luck.”

“Sooo,” Agatha said in a sing-song tone to cheer up Helga and break the tension in the air. “Since your parents aren’t in the picture anymore, does that mean I can hold your hand now?”

Helga chuckled a bit, tension successfully broken, and took Agatha’s hand. “Yeah, I guess.” She smiled at the other girl and Agatha smiled back.

“Excuse moi,” Raphael said suddenly. He was standing amongst Magnus’s friends, his left hand clasping Louis’s right tightly. “I’m sorry if I’m wrong, but are you two together?”

Helga and Agatha immediately flushed red.

“Yes?” Agatha asked with a smile, squeezing Helga’s hand a bit.

Helga smiled back and nodded. “Yes.” She liked the word on her tongue. She hadn’t thought she’d ever be able to call Agatha her girlfriend without feeling scared.

Magnus could help smiling a bit at the cute scene in front of him before he realized something. “Okay, wait, so if you’re gay,” he pointed at Raphael, “and you’re…” he trailed off, pointing at Helga.

“Lesbian,” she said smiling. Saying it loudly felt nice.

Magnus nodded. “Okay, so if Raphael is gay and you’re gay and I’m pan that means that none of this year’s Champions are straight.”

“Huh, you’re right. I hadn’t thought of that,” Raphael said with a chuckle. “Anyway, Louis and I should be going. After that whole thing I desperately need a nap.” Raphael and Louis left the Hall of the Slain together, hands intertwined between them. They probably wouldn’t let go of each other for quite some time.

“We should go to the infirmary to get your arm checked,” Agatha said to Helga, eyeing her arm with worry. Whatever spell Helga cast on her arm might have stopped the bleeding but a hippogriff’s talons left deep wounds and it was bad enough it was left like that for that long.

Helga agreed with her new girlfriend and the two of them had started to leave when Helga turned around. “Goodbye,” she told Alex. Her whole posture seemed awkward but her voice was polite. A week ago she wouldn’t have even bothered to say the word to Alex, let alone be polite about it. It was a clumsy attempt, but it was a start for change. As the two girls left the dining hall, Magnus saw Agatha smiling and Helga.

“Should we be going too?” Alex asked, tugging at his hand a bit. “I want to hear what happened in the second task. I can’t believe I was asleep during the whole thing. I wanted to see you kick ass.”

Magnus chuckled at the pout on his girlfriend’s face and felt so grateful she was here next to him and no longer on the cold table. “Alright. It’s not an epic story though.”

“Nah, I’m sure it’s epic,” Alex said. “At the very least you got your ass epically handed to you, right?”

“Ha ha. Very funny.” Magnus tried to frown as he talked but the effect was ruined by how happy he was that Alex was well enough to be teasing him like always. Alex chuckled at him and kissed him on the cheek. Magnus may have been smiling like an idiot.

“Ugh, Mallory, they’re being lovey-dovey again,” Halfborn groaned in protest, making the others snort at him.

“Oh, shut up. You wanted them to get together just as much as the rest of us,” Mallory said.

“Yeah, but I didn’t know they’d be this grossly in love!”

“Oh, that’s nothing,” Alex cut in before Mallory had the chance to say something to her boyfriend. “This is grossly in love.”

Much to Halfborn’s disdain, Alex leaned in and covered Magnus’s lips with her own, a smirk on her lips. The kiss in itself was sweet and simple and Magnus loved it. They moved their lips together for a bit, their movements perfectly synchronized from so much practice. Alex’s palms were cupping his cheeks, her thumbs running circles on his cheekbones, and Magnus’s hands rested just above her hips. Magnus smiled against her lips and kissed her more.

When they pulled away for air Magnus heard Halfborn sigh relieved. “Oh, thank Merlin, they stopped.” But they had only stopped for a second before their lips were joined again. “Oh, come on!”

Magnus didn’t care for Halfborn’s protests, not when Alex was kissing him like this, her lips so soft and warm. He trailed his arms up her sides until they were wrapped around her neck and he pulled her closer. He leaned his head to deepen the kiss and Alex reacted enthusiastically, pressing her lips against his harder. She ran her tongue against his lower lip and he opened his mouth happily. His whole body felt as hot as a light bulb and he would be surprised if his whole body was glowing.

They pulled apart with a content sigh leaving Magnus’s lips. Were they to look at anything else but each other they would have seen that Sam and Amir were looking the other way to give them privacy, T.J was filming the whole thing so he could play it at their wedding and Mallory was laughing at the suffering on Halfborn’s face. As it were, they were about to lean in to kiss again when Halfborn interrupted them with a loud, “Get a room, goddamn it!”

“Fine!” Alex said back just as loud. “We will!” She took Magnus’s hand again and they left the Hall of the Slain together.

“Two galleons Magnus will be limping tomorrow!” Magnus heard T.J say as they left the room. His face flushed at the implication. Damn teenage hormones.

“You know they’ll be teasing us for this for the next week at the least, right?” he asked Alex as they walked down the halls.

“Yeah, but you have to admit that was a great exit.”

Magnus snorted. “True. So, what do you want to do now?”

“Mm… How about you go get us some food from the kitchens and we go hang out at the Room of Requirement while you tell me what happened in the second task?”

“Will there be kissing?” Magnus asked with a grin. After everything that happened today he wanted to lie down and kiss Alex until dinner.

“Hmm…” Alex tapped her chin with her free hand as she made a show of thinking over his offer, even though they both knew she liked kissing just as much as he did. “Alright,” she said finally. “But I want one of those pink and green cupcakes.”

Magnus kissed her cheek before letting go of her hand and doing a deep, exaggerated bow. “Your wish is my command, milady.”

Alex giggled at him and Magnus though that his smile was wide enough to split his face in two. “Did you just call me ‘milady’?”

“And what if I did?”

Alex laughed at the mischievous twinkle in Magnus’s eyes and Magnus felt his heart flutter at the sound of her laughter like every time. “You’re a dork.”

“Ah,” he said with a cheeky smile, wiggling a finger in her face, “but I’m a dork that’s getting a cupcake and cookies.”

Alex kissed him in the cheek with a snort. “Yeah, that’s the only reason I’m keeping you around.”

Magnus feigned a surprised gasp. “I knew you were only using me!”

“That’s right,” Alex said with her best cartoon villain imitation, hands held out at either side of her like she was holding two very large oranges. “I was only using you for your sweets and your body!”

Magnus’s laughed at Alex’s antics, feeling the warm feeling of happiness spread through his entire body. He leaned in and kissed Alex on the lips, trying to make her understand all the joy he felt at having her by his side safe and sound through a single kiss. He wasn’t sure if she understood, maybe she did, but if she didn’t then he’d just have to kiss her until she did

“I love you,” he said when he pulled away. It took a few moments before his stupidly in love brain realized what he had just said and his face went red. Alex was looking at him with dish-wide eyes and an open mouth, surprise evident on her face. Magnus was about to open his mouth to apologize for springing that on her but he didn’t get the chance. Alex practically pounced on him and kissed him with everything she had. Magnus was so surprised that he stumbled backwards and he would have fallen down if it wasn’t for the wall behind him. As it was, Alex had him pined to the wall, her hands holding his face as she kissed him hard enough to forget his own name.

When she pulled apart her face was beautifully flushed, a bright smile on her lips and her two-colored eyes shining. Magnus was panting and his intelligent respond was a breathless, “Woah.”

Alex laughed, the sound music to Magnus’s ears, and she leaned in to kiss him again, this time gentler, softer. Magnus closed his eyes and got lost in the kiss, burying his finger in her soft hair.

When Alex pulled away she beamed at him like she was living a dream she never thought would come true. “I love you too, Maggie.”

“You had to ruin the moment, didn’t you?” Magnus frowned at her but not all the frowns in the word could hide how happy he felt right now.

“Aw, come on, don’t be like that,” Alex said as she nuzzled her nose against Magnus’s. “You wuv me.”

Magnus leaned in to press his lips to Alex’s. “That I do. Can’t understand why, though.”

Alex laughed again and Magnus laughed with her. There, against a Hogwarts wall, his forehead pressed against Alex’s, simply breathing in each other’s sent, Magnus felt happy.

I honestly think my blood sugar rose just by writing that last bit.

My sister wants me to kill Helga's parents, btw. Tell me if you agree.

Nu, lystna härtill unga dam – Now, listen here young lady

[bluekrishna101]

Here, Here I Quake Ch61

A/N: Holy shit, I’ve been gone awhile. Lol. Sorry, all. Here’s the next chapter, if you still follow this silly thing that I keep meaning to dive back into. Enjoy! 

 Links to:  Ch1, Ch2, Ch3, Ch4, Ch5, Ch6, Ch7, Ch8,Ch9,Ch10,Ch11,Ch12,Ch13,Ch14,Ch15,Ch16,Ch17,Ch18,Ch19,Ch20,Ch21,Ch22, Ch23, Ch24, Ch25,Ch26,Ch27, Ch28, Ch29, Ch30, Ch31 Ch32, Ch33, Ch34,Ch35,Ch36,Ch37,Ch38,Ch39,Ch40,Ch41,Ch42,Ch43,Ch44,Ch45,Ch46,Ch47,Ch48,Ch49,Ch50, Ch51, Ch52, Ch53, Ch54, Ch55, Ch56, Ch57, Ch58, Ch59 

“—a wonder they didn’t throw me out! The hostess just stared at my … my exposure, then asked, calm as anything, whether we’d like a table or a booth!” Elgar’nan’s tale finishes with a arm-flailing flourish, and the elves all around burst into raucous laughter. 

Nearly choking on his mouthful of food,  June shakes his head as he points his fork at the old guitarist. Syllaise pats his back, chuckling.

Andruil, wry but smiling, says, “Most of us were there, El.”

“It’s still pretty funny, even the hundredth time he’s told it,” June manages, finally clearing his throat enough to speak.

Falon’din grunts. “It’s the delivery that makes it funny. Otherwise, it’s just El forgetting to wear pants. Again.”

“Well, I hadn’t heard it before,” says the only human at the table. Andruil’s private detective. She turns to Elgar’nan with a wide grin. “So, this happened pretty often, I take it?”

“Too often,” says the rest of the former bandmates in unison.

Elgar’nan sputters his drink and glares all around for a second before capitulating. “Fine! Yes, it happens. What’s wrong with a man enjoying the feel of the wind ‘round his nethers?”

Solas clears his throat. “Nothing at all. In the privacy of his own room. But I believe the old you would not have rested until all of Thedas had a good look at … your business.”

“Indeed. His … little guy was awake for more gigs than he was.” June laughs.

Falon’din contributes, “If I had a sov for every time his pixelated … hardware made the cover of the scandal sheets—”

“Cock!”—every eye in the restaurant swings toward their group—”Just say it,” Andruil growls, exasperated. “I swear, you men can be so squeamish when it comes to talk about dick.”

Ghilan’nain giggles. “As if you have more than a just passing acquaintance with dick, Andi.”

“Hush, darling,” she retorts, kissing Ghilan’nain on the tip of her nose. “One need not want to handle them to have an opinion. Or be an adult about the whole thing. They’re just cocks, you infants.” At this, the rest let out a burst of laughter. Andruil huffs and rolls her eyes. “Really.”

“Excuse me,” says the nervous host as he sidles up to the table. “I ask that you please keep it down. This is an upscale establishment, after all. A family establishment. The crude language and noise—”

A thundercloud gathers in Elgar’nan’s eyes. Solas steps in before it bursts into a deluge with a terse, “Our pardon. Bring us the check, please.”

“All together?” asks the shuffling human. His eyes and wringing hands say he wonders if the group of elves will suddenly disappear the moment his back is turned.

Pushing down the stab of anger in his gut, Solas pulls out his wallet and hands the host a jet-black credit card. White Spire’s jacquard logo glitters in the light of the low-hanging chandeliers over their table. Solas says, cold, “Just put it all on that.”

When the host scuttles off, the others look at Solas. June whistles. “Hear that, guys? Fen’s got it.”

“We could have pitched in,” admonishes Andruil. “It’s got to be at least six hundred sovereigns altogether.” Everyone else mutters similar sentiments.

“What’s an expense account for, if not to use?” asks he. Solas peers at them all, looking for signs of jealousy or bitterness. Then relief warms him as he finds nothing but simple worry that they’re taking advantage. How different this would have gone once upon a time.

Elgar’nan smiles. “I guess you got us there. Things must be going pretty good for Inquisition then?”

“Yes.” He returns the smile with one of his own.

“I’ll say!” Ghilan’nain exclaims, blue eyes glittering. She tosses her gold hair to one side, and leans forward. “They’re all the kids talks about. My store can’t keep the CD’s on the shelf, they move so quickly! Speaking of which, have you looked into streaming services, like Spotify, SoundCloud or Fadio—?”

“I, too, have questions,” June says. “Why now? Why them? How did you meet— ?”

Syllaise joins in, “Yes. Tell us all about your new band, Fen. Are they headed for the top?”

The rest chime in with a chorus of variations of, “Tell us!”

“I—” Solas starts, a little overwhelmed.

“I’ve met them,” Elgar’nan interrupts, puffing up a little under all the sudden attention that swings his way. “They’re good! That Ellana has a great voice, and she’s-she’s, like, grounded, you know?”

As they all turn their questions to Elgar’nan, Solas shoots him a grateful glance. The older elf grins and fields the flocking queries like a master.

“I think he just saved you a fair measure of aggravation,” says Andruil’s private investigator at his elbow.

“No doubt,” he agrees, turning to the human with a tip of his head. Then he asks, “I’m sorry. I never caught your name.”

“Elizabet Cousland. Betty, to my friends,” she says, sticking out her hand. “And you’re the Dread Wolf.” Her sudden lop-sided grin disarms the tickle of mocking razz right out of her tone. Not that her teasing bothers him at all. They’d chosen melodramatic stage names for a reason.

“Call me Solas, please.” He shakes her hand, then pauses. “Any relation to Teyrn Cousland?”

She nods. “To my father’s great chagrin, yeah. I’m his wayward daughter. Bringing shame onto the family is sorta my thing. My jam. My cuppa.”

“Who hasn’t disappointed a parent? But you don’t seem that bad,” Solas reasons. “From your attire, you’re well off. Successful. And Andruil told me many clients keep you on retainer, so you must be good at what you do.”

“Says the one it took the longest to find. Every time, I might add,” she says, as she mimes a playful poke. Pushing her brown hair over one rounded ear, Betty snorts. “I pride myself on being a good fisherman, but you were a very elusive fish. That’s what they should’ve called you. The ‘Elusive Fish.’ What’s that in elvhen?”

“Unflattering,” he shoots back, then chuckles as Betty lets out a single hearty guffaw.

“That’s as may be, but it’s more apt, possibly. And you? You don’t seem all that dread.”

“You didn’t know me before. Everything from my dress sense to my manners. Just dreadful.” He raises an impish brow.

“I don’t know,” she drawls. “Some of those outfits in the vids were … scandalous. Low, low, looow rise pants. Ha! And had they not yet invented the shirt back then?”

He chuckles. “It seemed the thing to do at the time. Sex sells and all that.”

“Yes, it does! A whole ton of records, from what I gather,” Betty cajoles, holding up her drink for a toast. He obliges her with a clink and a nod. Then she waves around and comments, “So what’s this then? Trying to recapture the lightning? Gettin’ the band back together?”

“No!” Solas blurts, taken aback. Others at the table glance towards his outburst and he can’t help but notice some have shifted in their seats to split their attention between regaling Elgar’nan and himself. Chagrin trickles over his nerves as he clears his throat to say in a more reasonable tone, “Not at all. We’re just catching up. I have my obligation to Inquisition, after all.”

“I’m just sayin’. All of you. In one place. Someone’s bound to notice, if they haven’t already. And those someones are gonna draw certain conclusions,” she says, waving a hand. Then she points suddenly, and Solas turns his head just in time to see a flash of light coming from a cell phone half-hidden in another patron’s hands. Betty chortles. “Six, by my reckoning. So far.”

Resisting the urge to slump into his seat, Solas growls, “Wonderful.”

Settling the tip, he stands. “Ladies, gentlemen, I bid you goodnight. I have a long flight in the morning—” He waves his hands in the midst of the chorus of groaning and booing flying his way.

“C’mon, Fen,” Elgar’nan wheedles, reminding Solas of why ‘getting the band back together’ would be folly at best. Insanity, at worst. The older elf continues, “We were gonna go to that club down the street.”

“The one with the neon legs above the door? No, thank you. I’m headed back to the hotel.” Solas turns away as the booing renews, waving one dismissive hand over his shoulder. “I’ll be better entertained diving into the Fade for some much needed rest.”

Another flash catches his attention. “Besides, I think I’ve done enough damage for one evening.”

Sitting in the midst of the stark, white landscape of the huge hotel bed, Solas winces at Madame Vivienne’s response to his text—

‘Get ahead of it, darling? Of course we’ll try, but you know as well as I how these things get blown out of proportion. Already we’ve had phone calls asking if Inquisition’s breaking up, and if we’re going to represent Evanuris for a big comeback. Really, my dear, I wish you would think of the consequences before acting.’

The digital clicking of his keyboard sounds in his ears as he picks out a reply, ‘I’ll own that. I should have insisted on private dining. Enough of blame, Madame. What can be done?’

Three dots flicker over and over next to Vivienne’s avatar, the White Spire logo. Then they disappear. And reappear. This happens a few more times before he types, ‘When you actually have a plan, call me.’

The dots disappear altogether this time. He imagines outrage on the other end and smiles. Then a new message pops up on his screen. This time from Morrigan. The sheer number of expletives deplete her word cap.

Solas feels a bit more guilt in this instance, for the former metal diva works very hard on their behalf. Still, insults are uncalled for. He shoots back a tart rejoinder and refers her to Vivienne.

Then more messages arrive in rapid succession. Leliana with civil, calm questions asking for clarification and his first-hand account. How many photographers did he notice? Were there any outside when he left? What was the name of the restaurant? And so forth.

Josephine texts, ‘Band meeting as soon as Cassandra returns. These issues need to be addressed as a group. Making the label nervous doesn’t do us any favors. We have tour dates lined up and it’s not fair to the fans who’ve already purchased tickets to make them think they’re suddenly going to be cancelled.’

‘I know. I apologize,’ he responds, heart heavy. ‘And I will apologize again when we meet en masse.’

Irascible Varric is the only one to actually call, gifting him with a saucy, “Hey, did you happen to snap one yourself or get the name of one of the guys who did? I’d pay a pretty penny for it! Picture the headline—Evanuris Returns! Three exclamation points. Or is that too many exclamation points?”

“Far too many, I’m sure,” he replies, with a weary hum of humor. Leave it to the dwarf to lift his spirits. Solas sinks into the cloud of blankets. “And not true, in any case. Evanuris is dead. They will never, ever return.”

“Never say never, Chuckles. Still, you got Inquisition. If Evanuris did re-form, they can always do it without you.” Varric’s confidence almost dispels the sudden, tiny pang in Solas’s chest.

Shaking it off, the elf says, “Truer words, Master Varric. I have my hands full.”

Varric laughs. “Speaking of Rosy, I haven’t spoken with her for weeks. How is she doing?”

“Elated to be near the end of her probation. Excited to be back on the road,” Solas answers, ignoring the rush of warmth in his cheeks. “I was about to call her, actually. See how she’s faring on her own.”

“What do you mean ‘on her own’?”

“Well, the band dispersed to take care of private matters before the tour. Out of town, most. Out of country, others. I admit to guilt at leaving her alone, but she insisted. Quipped about a vacation of her own, away from the band drama.” Solas laughs, thinking of the mischievous grin on her face when she’d said that.

“That funny girl of mine, eh? Well, I suppose I should let you call her then. I’m serious about those pics, Chuckles. Well, halfway serious. News is news, and my magazine could use the bump!”

“I’ll see what I can do.” Wouldn’t that just irritate Vivienne to no end?

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Varric.” Solas smiles as the line clicks closed. Then he opens the Skype app, giving an eager tap on Ellana’s photo. The lyrical ‘bwoops’ cascade as they seek to summon the image of his love over the hundreds of miles separating them.

The call ends, uncompleted.

Frowning, Solas tries again. To no avail.

Four more times and nothing. Uneasiness blossoms into outright nerve-rending apprehension.

He attempts to contact her through social media and reaps nothing but more worry. Solas then tears through his phone directory, searching for someone who might still be in Kirkwall.

Anyone who can go check on Ellana—

“The P.O.,” he mutters, staring at the qunari’s number. Chewing his lip, Solas casts about for another option. Any other choice.

Taking a deep breath to steady shaking hands, he says to himself, harsh and decisive, “No, Ellana’s probably in the bath. Or-or left her phone in the fridge again. Everything’s probably fine. Her P.O. will find her. Safe. At home, during curfew. Like she hasn’t failed to be once.”

Squashing the sense of dread foreboding to make space for hope, Solas pecks at the Arishok’s number.