Total Eclipse of the Heart

Prelude

Esha was born during an eclipse. Her mother mewled, twisting her clammy palms into the sheets of her cot, screaming obscenities at her father, and calling out for Elgar’nan’s bloody vengeance. 

At least, that’s how her father told it.

Before she was Rook, before she was anyone at all, that auspicious beginning shaped her path, carving a conduit through the veil, a direct line to her destiny. 

Willfully, she wandered through the Fade, searching, seeking out the voice that called to her.

“Who are you?” she yelled into the vast, verdant void.

“Hush, Little Bird. I am your every desire.”

Antumbra

She heard him for the first time on her naming day, in a dream, in the Fade. Esha had chosen to honor Elgar’nan with the most elaborate and painful of his designs, which covered her face and neck, one half the dark inverse of the other. 

In the Fade, she walked along the golden shores of Rialto Bay, barefoot in the brine, curling her toes in the sand as the waves lapped at her ankles and the shimmering, golden sun rose on the horizon.

“Then you shall have it, da’len.” Thick and deep, a voice washed over her like a rogue wave, the answer to a wish she hadn’t dared speak out loud. 

It was her last night in Rivain, before leaving her clan and her family forever to join the Veil Jumpers in Arlathan, and inside of her boiled a futile desire for their blessing.

Tracing the thick lines of her vallaslin with both hands, she chuckled. “Elgar’nan’s balls, Esha. Get a hold of yourself.”

Whether the voice was her own mind or a trick of the Fade, the promise was impossible, and she knew it. When dawn broke in the physical world, she was alone. There was no send-off from her Keeper, no tearful goodbye with her family, only a small package left outside of her aravel as she slept. Wrapped in paper, tied up in twine, with a cluster of seashells strung together near the knot, the package was warm to the touch, and Esha would know the scent of her mother’s honey loaf anywhere. She held it close to her chest before carefully tucking it away in her pack and preparing for her journey ahead. 

She tugged the long waves of her black hair into a ponytail and started to walk.

Halfway to Arlathan Forest, she sat beneath the shade of an oak tree, gingerly unwrapped the paper, and tied the string of shells to the top of her staff. Ravenous, she tore a large chunk from the end and began to eat. The taste brought fresh tears to her deep, blue eyes, and she chewed, grumbled, and slumped against the tree with a long, heavy sigh.

Tearing off a second piece, she felt something strange scrape against her finger, a rolled piece of parchment baked inside the bread—a note, in her mother’s hand.

“Ma solas bellenaris, ma’da’len.” [My pride is eternal, my child.”]

Se’th’en’e’r’an
[Land of Waking Dreams]

Strife sent her away. “I think you need some time on your own to cool off, Esha. This is your mess. You should clean it up.” She opened her mouth to argue, but closed it again. If Strife wanted to punish her with solitude, so be it! Fuck him. I won’t beg, she huffed to herself. 

“This isn't a vacation, Esha. You’ll find what you lost before returning. Is that understood?”

Never mind that she’d saved the lives of three other Veil Jumpers; she’d lost his precious artifact to a hoard of darkspawn, and Strife had his priorities.

“Was I just supposed to let everyone fucking die?” Esha raised her voice, slamming the tip of her staff into the ground.

“Yes,” Strife snapped. “If that’s what it took.”

His harsh proclamation caught her off guard. She'd often felt that he prioritized relics over the well-being of their people, but to hear him say so was a betrayal.

“Fine, I’ll go. At least I know you won’t mourn for me if I die.”

“Esha. Don’t be like that, you know—” Strife attempted, but the damage was done, and Esha was gone before he could finish his sentence.

She knew well enough where to start looking for the artifact, and since she hadn’t unpacked and couldn’t bear another lecture, she made her way without another word to anyone.

Keeping to the well-worn paths, Esha traced her steps to the place they’d been ambushed near the Hidden Grove. She was certain the darkspawn were gone by now, but if she had any luck at all (doubtful), maybe they’d left some indication of their path behind.

She walked for hours until the sun dipped low in the sky, and her back ached. Rest, da’len, her weary mind told her in her mother’s voice. It was as good a place as any to make camp, and so she did. The tips of her nimble fingers tingled as she set up her tent in the small alcove. 

Esha settled into her bedroll and began to drift, the troubles of the day bleeding into one another and then blurring into nothing as she surrendered to the placid release of slumber.

“My Little Bird calls to me once more,” a voice, dark and languid, reverberated through her ears, her chest, and elsewhere. The voice. His voice. It had been such a long time since she’d heard it.

She shifted, unable to fully open her eyes, half-in and half-out of the Fade. The gossamer edges of the veil rippled around her, coaxing little bumps of prickling flesh to rise all over her body. 

An almost touch. An unseen pressure, light but tenacious. Esha arched in response, a futile attempt to press against the edges of the veil and feel it pulse against her skin.

“So eager. So willing.”

“Who, what are you?” Esha whispered, her eyes still closed, her silken skin shimmering in the faint moonlight spilling through the thin walls of her tent.

“I told you, Little Bird, I am your every desire.”

“A demon?” 

He laughed. “No. Not a demon, but to know that you burn with desire pleases me.”

Esha did burn, and for as long as she could remember, she yearned to be contained. She longed to be taken, to be opened up, to be spread wide. Used. 

Private, unpleasant desires, she'd kept to herself until this very moment. No. No. No.

“Oh, yes, da’len,” the voice praised her, delighted. “I can give you all of that and more.”

Esha moaned greedily, but she wasn’t good at obedience.

“I'm…I’m afraid.” 

“Do not fear me,” the voice cooed.

The veil swelled, enveloping her in its borders, caressing her with resonant energy that buzzed, hummed, and purred. 

“Mmm. Yes. So responsive. Imagine what my touch would feel like, Little Bird, my large hands seizing your nubile flesh, the warm, wet length of my tongue lapping against your throat.”

At his word, she felt the ghost of a hand on her hips, the specter of a flick of a tongue. She clenched tightly against the aching, quivering lack between her legs and moaned.

“Touch yourself, da'len.”

“Touch myself?” Esha balked. 

“Yes.”

“What? No.”

“Such a rebellious spirit. I could…force you.”

“Force me? How?” Her pulse thumped, and her throat went dry.

The voice snickered. “I will show you.” He paused. “Submit.”

Compelled, Esha slipped her hand beneath her well-worn, cotton nightdress to cup the fullness of her breast and roll the swollen nub of her nipple between her fingers.

“Yes, just like that.”

Inexplicably happy to have pleased the voice, Esha smiled and pinched herself hard enough to leave a bruise. 

The voice quivered slightly. “Mmm. I see. Now the other.”

Slick with sweat, she slid her hand across her chest and did as she was told.

“Such an obedient Little Bird. You simply needed the proper…motivation.”

“Yes,” Esha breathed, unsure of exactly why she’d acquiesced. Her cunt throbbed regardless.

“Ir ghil’as nad’as.” [I will guide you to the inevitable.]

“Ma ghil’an’a,” she moaned. [Guide me.]

“Remove that rag, da’len. Let me see you.”

Esha writhed, her core aflame at the thought of being watched by whoever, whatever this voice was. She shimmied gracefully from her worn, cotton nightgown and kicked away her scratchy blanket, leaving only her small clothes behind. 

“Such a pretty little bird. Now, the rest.”

“You don’t mean?”

“I do.”

Her throat went dry as she slipped off her smalls and clutched her knees to her chest.

“Lie down.”

He hummed with delight as she leaned back, her plush breasts flattening against her chest, the diamond tattoo on her sternum gleaming in the lunar luminescence of her tent. 

“Open your legs, da’len. Let me see you.”

The weight of the veil pressed heavily against her knees, urging, coaxing her to spread them apart, and so she did.

“Now…wider.”

At his word, her legs fell open and spread wide. With the frigid evening air dancing against the wetness of her cunt, she instinctively reached to touch herself. Her pulse raced as she swirled her finger around her clit once, and then again.

“Oh, da’len. You were doing so well. I said that I would guide you.”

“Ir abelas—”

“I will forgive you… just this once. Continue.”

A whimper escaped her lips as she dipped one finger and then two into her slick entrance before drawing the wetness up to her clit. The voice moaned with approval, and she became all too aware that she was not just being watched, but studied. She rubbed herself slowly, with predictable, reliable strokes. 

“Mmmm,” the voice groaned.

Esha writhed, bucking her hips against her hand, and called out for further instruction. “Ma…ghil’an’a…hahren.”

“Oh, ‘hahren,’ how sweet,” the voice laughed. “It will have to do…for now.”

“Mmm hmm,” she managed between the sweet, sticky sounds of her strokes.

“Fetch your dagger."

Mindlessly, Esha reached for the long dagger leaning against her pack. It wasn’t much to look at, a practical spellblade affixed to a Dragon Bone hilt with a spherical pommel carefully stowed in its Dragon Scale sheath. She barely used the thing, much preferring her staff. She couldn’t imagine why the voice would—

“Now, my undefiled little bird, you will put the pommel of that dagger between your legs.”

“Wait, you want me to—” 

“Oh, yes.”

Esha’s heart pounded in her chest as she brought the tip of the rounded pommel to the entrance of her cunt. 

“Come now, da’len. I know you want to please me.”

“Yes.” She nodded as she ran the pommel over her curls, still teasing.

“Now, inside.” 

Gripping the sheath, she did as she was told, stopping as the pommel alone breached her. She gasped at the sensation, the fullness. 

“Deeper,” the voice demanded.

Will-less, she drove the full length of the hilt inside, deeper and deeper with every wild thrust. The sloppy, wet sounds it made compelled her to bring her fingers back to her clit. 

“You are a greedy little bird. Look at you! Pounding away at yourself, desperate, needy. Think of what I could do to you, da’len. Imagine how I would take you, fuck you, use you. Think of how my cock would feel thrusting inside of you,” he groaned. “Feel me stretch your tight cunt to its limit.” 

The edges of reality began to blur as she trembled around her dagger at the bidding of a ghost, a demon, or worse. 

“Yes, sing for me, Little Bird. I want to hear you.” 

She clenched tightly around the hilt as she reached a tectonic crescendo, her hips bucking wildly, her voice crying out. 

“You have done very well, Esha.”

“How…how do you know my name?” She tried to catch her breath.

“I know a great many things, da’len. Now, rest." 

“Will you come to me again?” 

“I will,” he growled.

“In the Fade?”

“For now.” 

Rook

Esha hadn’t been called Esha in years; she was Rook now. She’d joined Varric, and what was left of the Inquisition to hunt the Dread Wolf after disappointing Strife and the Veil Jumpers one too many times. “Come on, Rook,” Varric said to her. “What have you got to lose?” 

“Nothing but my name, I guess,” she chuckled, but, of course, it stuck. She’d been Rook ever since.

Varric was sentimental, funny, and actually laughed at her jokes; trading her name seemed like such a small sacrifice to work with someone who actually valued her. “So, Rook,” she heard him say in her mind like she had a million times over the past two years, just before he was about to ask the most out-of-pocket question imaginable or tell the best story she’d ever heard. 

She cared for him, and she let him get hurt. She let him confront the Dread Wolf on his own. “He’s my friend, I’ve got to try,” he said.

Solas. 

The Dread Wolf, Varric’s friend, the Inquisitor’s lover, and a fucking asshole. He stabbed Varric during his ritual without a second thought, unleashed Elgar’nan and Ghilan’nain, and trapped himself in a prison of his own making in the Fade with only her to talk to. Their tenuous connection was an unfortunate arrangement for them both, but his knowledge of the gods made Solas a necessary, if temporary, ally. 

She’d acquired other allies, too, and even made friends, but being their leader while Varric convalesced had taken its toll. She’d made so many tough choices and too many mistakes. No matter what she did—

“Rook! Look!” Lucanis shouted, his beautiful brown eyes glistening in the moonlight, and blight and blood.

“No! She’s reanimating the dragons! We have to stop her!” Rook yelled as she ran for the ballista, dodging the corpses of the blighted dragons as Ghilan'nain worked to revive them.

She aimed the ballista at Ghilan’nain’s long, sinewy chest, pulled the winch, and hoped for the best. The bolt struck true and pinned Ghilan’nain to the ground. “Oh, thank fuck for that,” Esha said out loud to herself. 

“Ghilan’nain’s wounded. Press the attack!” Evka shouted. 

Lucanis and Neve were by her side when a violent, violet flash of light sparked and then cracked, knocking everyone near Ghilan’nain off their feet and away. There was no sound, only the strongest possible compulsion not to move, and none of them did. 

“Elgar’nan,” Rook hissed, barely able to open her mouth as a larger-than-average man, an elf with the broadest shoulders she’d ever seen, appeared beside Ghilan’nain. 

Unable to move, she focused all of her will on trying to hear what her terrifying, unleashed gods were saying. 

“One resists.” Elgar’nan looked in her direction and smiled. His voice. No. It couldn’t be. 

“The Dread Wolf’s influence. His presence lingers.” 

And then they were gone. 

“Fuck.” 

Disintegration

“All you must do is obey me, worship me, love me…and kneel.”

It was him. Unmistakeably, undeniably, Elgar’nan, the All-Father, The Eldest of the Sun, He Who Overthrew His Father, the elven God of vengeance, and the sun, had been invading her dreams for years, and on many, many, many occasions over the years, made her cum. 

In the haze of his compulsion, she wondered if he recognized her, too. Would he call her Little Bird, instead of The Dread Wolf’s pawn, if she reminded him? 

Rook made her way to the sanctum, burning through Venatori as she went with Lucanis and Neve fighting at her side. 

The path was a labyrinth, a trap, and she started to panic. She wasn’t going to make it. The Dalish prisoners were going to die. Everyone was going to die.

“Rook, can you hear me?”

“Solas?”

She never thought his voice would give her hope, but there was no reply. 

Without warning, Lucanis and Neve were thrown against the rock wall and pinned by an unseen force. 

Frozen in place, she summoned all of her strength to call out, “Solas?” 

In a flash of purple light and a force so fierce it would have knocked her back if she’d been able to move, Elgar’nan appeared before her.

“Solas,” Elgar'nan sniped. “You call for him, when I could give you…everything.”

“Fuck you, Elgar’nan!” Rook spat. “You lied to me!”

“Little Bird, I have never lied to you. That is the Dread Wolf’s domain.”

“I don’t believe you!”

“How…disappointing. Your god is here before you and yet—”

“You’re not my god! You’re a tyrant.” Esha turned away. “Solas!”

“He cannot hear you, da’len. He is impotent and useless…as usual.”

“He told me what you did to your people. He told me what you did to Mythal."

“I am sure he did. Fen’Harel always did love to gossip,” Elgar’nan smirked.

“He told me that you wanted to use the blight, just like you’re doing now, and that he had to create the veil to stop you.”

“Ha! Stop me. I cannot be stopped. The Dread Wolf has always been an irritant and a pest. A miserable, whimpering cur who spent more time buried in Mythal’s cunt, than at her side. He gives himself far too much credit.”

“Solas, please!” Esha cried out.

“Solas, please,” he mocked. “You used to sing for me, Little Bird.”

“I didn’t… I didn’t know.”

“Oh, but you did. You recognized my voice in the Crossroads, you felt my…presence when you tried…and failed to kill my sister.”

“No!”

Elgar’nan chuckled. “A lie, Little Rook.”

“Fuck you!”

“Oh, yes…in time.”

Rook struggled against the insinuating pressure of Elgar’nan’s magic holding her still. She tried to look at her team, but they were too far behind her. What must they be thinking? What must Lucanis think? She tried to push it out of her mind. 

Elgar’nan stalked closer, his overpowering presence stealing what was left of her breath. He smelled like sweet honey wine and a forest fire, like sizzling sparks of magic in a rainstorm.

“How I have longed to touch you in the flesh, Little Rook,” Elgar'nan said as he ran his thick finger over the notch of her collarbone, down her exposed sternum, between her breasts, and all the way to the top of her pants where he hooked it and tugged. 

She tried to wriggle away, tried to resist him, but the soft pad of his fingertip tracing her sweat-slicked skin sent unexpected, unwanted ripples of excitement directly to her core. Rook squeezed her thighs together as tightly as she could and tried to keep her expression neutral.

Elgar’nan laughed and brought his finger to his lips, flicking his long, pink tongue across the tip to taste her sweat. He closed his eyes and moaned. 

“If the Dread Wolf were half as smart as he thinks he is, he would have tasted your fruits, da’len.”

“Solas wouldn’t—”

“Ha! Your loyalty to the Dread Wolf is…misguided.”

Until this moment, Rook didn’t think she had any loyalty to Solas. His arrogance, his willingness to sacrifice millions for his cause. Solas was a prick, but with Elgar’nan’s plush lips only inches away, with his hard cock visibly pushing against the mail of his armor, she needed him more than ever.

Elgar’nan ran his hands over the curve of her jaw, down the dip of her throat, stopping to cup the full weight of her breasts in his palms and squeezing, pinching slightly at her nipples with his forefinger and thumb over her leathers.

If Rook had been able to move, she might have collapsed from the pleasure of it. She’d been touched, of course, but never like this, never in the ways she wanted, and her enjoyment made her sick. 

“Stop!” She yelped, but there wasn’t any spirit in it.

And Elgar’nan did not stop.

He pressed his body against hers, spreading her legs with his thigh. “You resist me…when I would give you everything. You know this.”

Rook pinched her eyes shut as tears began to streak down her cheeks. 

“Let…Rook…go!” Spite yelled, using all of the strength in Lucanis’ body to try to break free. 

“Silence, demon. You and your host had your chance.”

“Lucanis!” Rook called out.

“Rook, fight him.”

“Ha! You are…amusing. You know, the demon wishes to fuck her too.”

“Don’t listen to him, Rook.” Lucanis squirmed against his unseen restraints. “You have no honor, Elgar’nan.”

“I was there when honor was born. I watched them take form. You think you understand honor. There is no honor, except that I allow it to be so, boy.”

“Let my friends go, please,” she panicked.

“Your friends. They’ve been lying to you, too, Little Rook. Such a shame.”

“What? What are you talking about?”

A smile stretched wide across Elgar’nan’s face, and he hummed with satisfaction. 

She strained to see them. “What is he talking about?”

“I’m sorry, Rook,” Neve managed.

“Sorry for what?”

“Oh, my precious Little Bird, I’m afraid the Dread Wolf and your friends have been keeping a terrible secret from you,” Elgar'nan said as he rocked his hips against hers, pressing his considerable erection against her stomach.

“What secret?” She whimpered, barely able to keep from grinding herself into the top of his thigh.

“Your friend Varric…is dead. Ruthlessly murdered by his friend, the Dread Wolf.”

“No, I just spoke to Varric this morning, what do you—”

Rook would have backed away if she could—she would have run. 

“No, Little Bird, Fen’Harel killed him and has been manipulating you with blood magic ever since.”

“No! That’s not true. It's not. Neve? Tell me this isn’t true!”

“I’m so sorry, Rook, we didn’t know what to do. We just thought…we didn’t know Solas was using blood—”

“Lucanis? You knew?”

“Rook, I’m sorry.”

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“I wanted to—”

“But, you didn’t!”

Her heart shattered, the weight of their betrayal, the loss was too much. Tears streamed down Rook’s cheeks, but Elgar’nan caught them with his tongue before they could fall, cupping her face with his considerable hands.

With the illusion broken, everything came flooding back. Solas stabbing Varric with the dagger, Varric falling, dead. 

“Look into my eyes, da’len. I have not and will not lie to you.”

She looked up at his face, his high, sharp cheekbones, the curves of his full lips, and finally into his golden eyes, rimmed with the deepest shade of violet. In his eyes, Rook saw the truth. She saw refuge; she saw an escape.

“All Father,” she whimpered. 

“Da’len,” he beamed, the shock of her submission delighting him in ways he’d perhaps meant to conceal, but suddenly she could move again. 

She dropped to her knees.

“Rook, no! Don’t do this. I’m sorry,” Lucanis cried out, but it was too late; Rook was already gone. “Rook, please.”

Elgar’nan silenced him with a flick of his wrist as she clutched at his armor, unfastening the series of buckles and knots with the nervous hands of a novice.

“Oh, da’len, you only need to ask and I will shower you with the glory of the ancients.” Elgar'nan waved his hand over them both, and their armor vanished. 

Rook’s heart raced as the cool air danced against the exposed wetness between her legs. Elgar'nan was unfathomably large, with broad, toned shoulders, and a strong, but soft, relishable belly. Every part of him was a decadent slice of cake to her eyes. His hard cock, framed by a thick patch of salt-and-pepper curls, hung heavily near her face. It was magnificently thick, with patterns of purple veins that pulsed hot with his blighted blood. She took a deep breath and exhaled a long, hot sigh against his flesh.

“There is freedom in surrender, Little Bird.”

A nacreous pearl of moisture leaked from the tip as he spoke, and Rook licked her lips. Impatient, suddenly ravenous to taste him, she reflexively leaned forward to lave the head with her tongue, dipping gently into his wet slit.

Elgar'nan hissed and bucked his hips, forcing himself into her mouth. 

She did her best to accommodate him, stretching her lips wide, swiping her tongue along the end of his shaft as he wrapped the length of her hair around his fist. 

“How pretty you are when you serve me like this, da’len. How good. I will fill you with my love…my glory.” Elgar’nan’s voice grew darker, deeper as she took more of him. She brought her hand to the base of his cock to stroke what wouldn’t fit in her mouth as his thrumming veins surged against her palm. 

Elgar’nan used his tight grip on her hair to move her head at the pace and rhythm he desired as her friends, as Lucanis looked on, in what she could only imagine was disgust. The shame of it was galvanic, alluring, depraved.

The deep, wet ocean of her eyes remained fixed on his as he pushed himself to the back of her open throat without warning. Esha struggled not to choke, humming against the thickest part of his cock as he fucked her face.

“You take me so well, Little Bird, but I do not wish to waste a drop of my seed down your pretty throat.”

Elgar’nan picked her up as if she weighed nothing to lay her down on top of a slab she was certain she hadn’t seen before. 

“Give yourself to me, da’len.” 

Flat on her back on the stone slab, with her ass near the edge and her legs parted, dangling over the side, Elgar’nan slotted himself between her knees. 

Rook spread her legs wider and reached for him. “I have always wanted this.”

“Oh, my Little Bird, I shall give you all of the glory you deserve. At my side, you will be a goddess in the new Elvhen pantheon. Revered, worshiped…and feared.” He pressed the tip of his dripping cock against her entrance and smiled as he pushed himself inside with one brutal thrust. 

Rook gasped, but it didn’t hurt. His size was considerable, the stretch of him incomprehensible, and yet, she only felt a rapturous tide of pleasure. Desire thrummed through her body as she arched her back to lift her hips and draw him impossibly deeper.

“Oh, da’len,” Elgar’nan moaned, delighted, perhaps by her enthusiasm, her willingness to be fucked on a blighted slab, her callous betrayal of her friends forced to watch. 

Elgar’nan look towards Lucanis. “It must pain you that you were not the first to breach her, Crow.”

“Mmm. It should have been us!” Spite snarled. “We would have fucked her better than this!”

“And yet, you did not.”

“Let us go and we will show you!”

“Ha!” Elgar’nan seemed to consider the proposition. “No.”

Spite grunted, “At least give us a better view!”

“Enough.”

Rook bucked her hips again, clenching around Elgar’nan’s thick cock as it swelled and throbbed, exciting every nerve within her. The torturous ache of his stillness was exquisite, but she longed to be fucked.

“Please,” she whined pathetically.

“Patience, Little Bird. I want your demon Crow to see how well your cunt envelops me.”

Elgar'nan cackled, and his voice reverberated through her body from the top of her spine to her belly and lower. She impulsively, clumsily moved her hands to relieve the building tension between her legs. 

After one slick stroke, Elgar’nan grabbed her by the wrists, able to envelope both with one hand, pinned her arms above her head, against the slab, and growled.

“I will show you what my brilliance feels like, Little Rook.” He pressed his enormous chest against her, the plush flesh of his belly, warm and soft upon her skin. Elgar'nan finally fucked her properly.

His thrusts were long and deep, and she did her best to meet them as she listlessly feigned to struggle against his hold on her arms.

Elgar'nan kissed her throat before sucking a trail of pink bruises to her breasts, where he lavished her peaked nipples with his tongue.

“So eager to be filled with my seed. I will give you all of it, my pretty Rook…my Esha.”

She hadn’t heard her name in years, and with the sound of it still wet on his lips, the heat of his breath on her throat, his cock thrusting relentlessly inside of her, she came splendidly undone. 

“Elgar'nan!”

“Good girl,” Elgar'nan murmured, fucking her harder, faster than before. He released her arms and pressed his sizable palm over her stomach to feel his cock move in and out beneath her skin as he circled her clit with his thumb. 

“You will not cum again until I allow it.” He said.

“Please,” she begged. She was so close to another.

Elgar’nan just laughed. “Not until I have painted your womb with my—” he clenched his eyes shut and grunted as he filled her again and again with the hot spurts of his splendiferous cum.

“Now,” he said, swirling his thumb over her clit with perfect pressure. “You have been so…obedient.”

The implication overwhelmed her with a mix of disgrace and elation. The freedom to revel in rapturous pleasure while the blighted world literally burned around her was as vile as it was intoxicating.

“Esha.” 

She dug her nails into Elgar’nan’s forearms as she came hard and fast around him without warning.  

Before she could catch her breath, she felt Elgar'nan grow hard again inside of her. She blinked in disbelief while he repositioned her body, lifting her hips into the air.

“Embrace the wisdom of surrender,” he said as he fucked her a second, and then a third time, with her true name on his tongue and the power to make her cum with it.

“Esha.”

Penumbra

Esha woke in Elgar’nan’s arms for the third day in a row; at least she thought it was the third day. Keeping track of time had become difficult, even with the scents and sounds of the sea spilling into the palatial room as the rising sun filled it with light.

Tearstone Island was so close to home, but so different from everything that she’d ever known, with its silk sheets, soft beds, and servants. She hadn’t gone a single moment since her arrival without her needs being met. If her stomach grumbled, a servant would arrive with food. When she felt dirty, she’d find the bath had been drawn for her and kept at just the right temperature.

The only thing that eluded her was clothing, which she hadn’t really needed because Elgar'nan barely left her side or her bed.

She languidly kissed little patterns onto his chest, and tucked her face in between his pectoral muscles to nuzzle him as he slept and wondered how this had become her life, how a Dalish girl from nowhere, an outcast, had become consort to a god. 

“Little Bird, you are insatiable, let me sleep,” Elgar’nan grumbled, but she saw his cock rising beneath the sheet, despite his protest.

Without a word, Esha pulled the sheet back and climbed on top of him, easing herself down onto his magnificent erection until she was fully seated. The twinges of pain as she adjusted to his size without his magic were tantalizing, exhilarating, an exercise of her will, of her power. Elgar'nan groaned and stirred, but didn’t wake.

“Hmph.” Esha placed her hands on his belly for leverage and began fucking him slowly, rolling her hips in the ways she’d learned he enjoyed.

Lost in the haze of her own delirium, her gentle rocking transformed into a galloping bounce, and she felt him clutch violently into the meat of her thighs with his nails. 

“Insolent girl,” Elgar'nan hissed and brought his hand to clasp around her throat. “I am not so easily aroused…from my slumber.”

His grasp on her throat was tight, but his cock twitched enthusiastically inside her. “Ir abelas, My Lord,” she rasped. “It’s only that I…”

Elgar'nan squeezed her neck tighter. “You missed being fucked by your god. I am not surprised, but my cock is not yours to command, Little Bird…not yet.”

He bucked his hips up into hers before flipping her onto her stomach, the weight of him straddling the backs of her closed legs. He kneaded the velvet flesh of her backside, grasping a cheek in each palm.

“You will beg for my forgiveness.” Esha squirmed beneath his weight, but didn’t speak.

Elgar'nan gave her ass a thunderous, bruising smacked . “You…will…beg.”

Esha did not. She was curious to see how far he might take this lesson.

Elgar’nan grabbed the fleshiest part of her ass in a brutal squeeze. “Ever defiant…for now.”

She calculated one, maybe two more acts of disobedience before he grew tired of her games, so she buried her face into the silk sheets, smiled, and waited for her next punishment.

Elgar'nan adjusted his body to slide his weeping cock into the tight space between the backs of her thighs and directly into her cunt.

It was an even tighter fit than usual, but he rutted rigorously, feverishly slapping her ass with each pump of his hips. “You must learn…respect.”

He placed one hand at the back of her head, clutching her hair, pressing her face firmly into the mattress, and used the other to gather her wrists, restraining her arms behind her back. 

This, Elgar’nan had learned, was her favorite thing, her deepest desire, uttered half-asleep, years ago. She wished to be dominated, used; to feel the will of another imposed upon her, and to surrender herself to it. Elgar’nan was more than happy to give her what she wanted.

“You relish being fucked like this,” he grunted. “Like a common broodmare…like a whore.” The slick, sloppy sounds of their fucking punctuated his point. She was common, she was his broodmare, she was his whore. 

“I will make your belly swell, girl. I will expend my greatest reward within you, and you will take it all.”

Somewhere in the methodical rhythms of his ravishment and his filthy fucking mouth, she lost herself. Adrift on a sea of contented oblivion, Esha let everything go, the guilt, the pain, the burden of outrageous expectations—all vanished from her mind in the rapture of his glorious correction.

“Very good, girl,” Elgar’nan insisted as his strokes grew faster, harder, his grip on her hair tighter. He jerked, and trashed, and filled her with viscous waves of his resplendent seed, and cried out her name, which had its usual effect.

When he caught his breath, he flipped her over and stuck a pillow beneath her backside, tilting her hips into the air, as he always did. 

“That was wonderf—” 

Before she could finish, he was inside her again, fully hard and throbbing. She wrapped her legs around his waist as he took her, mercilessly, slapping against her with steady, heady grunts and moans. He curled his fingers languidly around her throat. “Tell me that you worship me.” 

Esha smiled against his grasp. “I worship you.” 

“Tell me that you love me.”

“I love you,” Esha whimpered, looking into his golden eyes. 

It was an undeniably sincere declaration of devotion, without coercion, compulsion, or constraint, and Elgar’nan broke, spilling inside of her with such force he nearly collapsed. 

“You…meant that,” he breathed.”

Esha reached up to run her thumb across his cheek, “I did. I love you. Forgive me, but I do.”

“There is nothing to forgive. I have not been shown genuine tenderness, true…affection in such a long time.”

“Then let me show you, Elgar’nan. Let me give you all that you desire.”

He took her hand from his cheek and kissed each knuckle sweetly. “You will give me…everything.”

Elgar’nan knelt between her knees, kissed his way from her belly button, through her curls, to her clit. “You mustn’t spill a drop,” he breathed against the opening of her cunt. 

Esha angled her hips higher on the pillow, delivering herself directly to Elgar’nan’s waiting mouth. 

“I won’t,” she moaned. 

“Good girl.” 

He licked a long line from her entrance to her clit, rolling it, sucking it, taking it between his teeth and lips until she was panting and swearing and convulsing against his mouth with an exquisite release.

“Elgar'nan,” she panted. “Will you…let me taste you?”

“I am a generous lover, you know this. You may taste whatever is left on my tongue.”

He leaned up to dip his tongue into her mouth and down her throat, and she sucked it greedily, running her own tongue along the tip to taste as much as she could. 

He used his fingers to make her cum a third time before he allowed her to move.

“Now, my Little Bird, you need a bath, and then we must take you to the dressmaker. I desire to see you adorned.”

Umbra

At Elgar’nan’s bidding, Esha entered the throne room wearing the dress he’d picked out for her. Long and diaphanous, made of shimmering fabrics in violet and plum, the gown skimmed the curves of her body as she moved, leaving the length of her tattooed legs exposed up to her hips. Soft waves of her thick, black hair fell around her shoulders, decorated with little braids of jewels and gems. 

She was dazzling, a goddess in the new Elvhen pantheon. She was everything that Elgar’nan had promised and more.

“Garas lasa, da’len. Come see the beast I have caught for you.” Elgar’nan stood near his throne, draped in a flowing robe left open at the front for all to behold his glory.

Esha’s eyes beamed with lust until she turned to look at her freshly caught prize.

“Solas?” She didn’t mean to gasp as he came into view, manacled and stripped bare, his flaccid but still impressive cock, hanging heavily against his thighs.

“Rook, please,” he pleaded. He begged with his tear-stained eyes, more amethyst in this light than they had been in the Fade.

“How did you—” she started to ask.

Solas shifted his gaze to Elgar’nan with bitter, indelible disgust.

“Elgar’nan betrayed his own sister to bring me here. It is only a matter of time before he betrays you.”

“Ghilan’nain is trapped in the Fade Prison?”

“Yes. I have no doubt her visions of Andruil will keep her there for a millennia.”

“As you designed, Dread Wolf,” Elgar’nan sneered. 

“I’m sorry, Solas.” Esha forgot herself. Forgot that she hated him.

“You can stop this, Rook, please. Some of your team still live—”

“Enough!” Elgar’nan traipsed across the rostrum to sit on his throne with his legs spread wide, his eyes never diverting from Solas’ recalcitrant glare. “Tsk…Fen'Harel. How tired you look. Your ceaseless failure must be so…depleting.” 

Elgar’nan laughed, charmed more by the Dread Wolf’s defeat than his own victory. 

In this new light, conquered and diminished, Solas was beautiful. His proud shoulders wilted, his delicate hips bruised, his pretty mouth marred with scrapes and blood, Esha finally understood what the Inquisitor saw in him. 

“Come, Little Bird. Show the Dread Wolf how you worship me. How you serve me.” 

Without hesitation, she walked directly to Elgar’nan and dropped to her knees with her eyes still fixed on Solas. 

“You see, Fen’Harel, how simple obedience can be.” 

“And what will be her reward, lethallin? The honor of your loathsome presence, the gift of your graceless, lumbering form, rutting against her in the dark?” Solas barked defiantly. 

“Careful, pup.” With a flick of his thick finger, Elgar’nan willed the cuff around his neck to tighten. Solas whimpered and ground his teeth but remained still.

A harsh wave of compassion, or at least something resembling the person she used to be, cried out in the back of her mind.  Help him. But—

“Rise, da’len.” 

Esha did, and without warning, Elgar’nan clutched at the back of her pretty dress and ripped it from her body with a single tug. She stood, stripped before the court, before Solas, who gallantly, foolishly looked away. 

It was then that another familiar figure caught her eye. Chained to the wall at the back of the room, hanging slack, naked, and bloody—

“Lucanis,” she whispered.

“Oh, yes, da’len. I kept your pretty Crow alive for you. Too bad about the demon.”

“Spite? You?”

“His impudence became…dull.”

Elgar’nan’s cock grew hard in his lap and leaked hot opalescent beads of moisture from the tip. 

“Mm…you are so beautiful, my bird, my Esha. Come.”

Esha remained facing the court, facing Solas, facing Lucanis as Elgar’nan took her by the waist and lifted her into his lap, impaling her slowly, deliciously on his cock. 

Solas finally returned his gaze to see her, legs spread wide, cunt stretched beyond reason, and dripping.

“Rook…Esha, I am sorry,” Solas wept.

For a moment, she imagined she could save him. Save the Dread Wolf, save Lucanis, save herself, but…surprisingly, she found she didn’t want to. 

Facing them all, straddled over Elgar’nan’s cock, his enormous hands clutching at her breasts, she slipped her fingers between her legs and spread herself open to give everyone a better view.

Solas pinched his eyes closed.

“Look at me, Dread Wolf,” Esha commanded. “Save your apologies. See how The Eldest of the Sun fills me, blesses me. His seed will bloom inside my womb, and together we will return Elvhenan to its former glory.”

Solas bared his teeth. “Elgar’nan! What have you done to her?”

Elgar’nan laughed hardily, his colossal cock visibly pulsing inside of her. “I only told her the truth, Dread Wolf. I showed her your deceptions…your treachery.”

“You killed Varric!” Esha raised her voice. “You lied to me. You used blood magic to make me believe he was still alive.”

“I…I am sorry.”

“Yes, yes, you are always sorry. It is…tedious.” Elgar'nan sneered.

“Can we send him away? Esha asked.

“Not yet, Little Bird. I want to see this mutt…kneel!”

Solas dropped to his knees.

Elgar’nan laughed again, holding Esha in place, his hands clamped tight, squeezing her breasts, his dark talons piercing into her soft flesh, drawing pin pricks of blood.

“If only Mythal could see her precious lap dog now, defeated…desecrated. Open your eyes, Dread Wolf! Behold, my glory. My triumph.” 

Solas’ eyes opened, but Esha could see him fighting; his face raw with exhaustion, tears streaking down the paling freckles of his cheeks as he watched Elgar’nan’s cock, wriggle and throb inside her.

“Please, no,” Solas breathed, barely above a whisper.

“My Little Bird likes it when you beg, Fen’Harel. If only you could feel how wet you have made her with your pathetic whining—with your broken promises and your failure.”

Elgar’nan moaned and began to move inside of her, pulling her body up and thrusting it back down, with one of his massive hands clutched around her middle, and the other wrapped around the bottom of her thigh for leverage.

“If only you could feel how hard you have made me with your…despair,” Elgar’nan stopped for a moment and laughed, “Mmm, yes, and perhaps you shall. It would not be the first time, would it, Dread Wolf.”

Ever the rebel, Solas scowled, but his cock betrayed him, swelling and leaking as Elgar’nan bounced her brutally on his cock. 

“Tell me, Fen’Harel, any regrets?” Esha managed between thrusts, reaching back to stroke Elgar’nan’s smiling cheek.

Solas did not answer, though she knew he had many.

“If I’d known this was all I had to do to get you to shut up, I would have done it ages ago.”

Elgar’nan bellowed with laughter as he fucked her, the tremendous stretch of him, hypnotizing, intoxicating, irresistible. She was lost, drowning in waves of ecstatic pleasure, her eyes closed shut. “Elgar’nan,” she whimpered. “Elgar’nan.”

“Yes, pretty bird, sing for me.” He slid his sizable pinkie finger to her clit, vibrating with magic, smoldering with the promise of untold pleasure. 

“Elgar’nan!” she sighed as his magic surged through her, sundered from the self she used to know, lost in the bliss of his touch, enthralled by the honey-sweet words that spilled from his lips as he filled her again and again with his glory, with his ruin.

Written by a human in Ellipsus.