A/N: Painting while it's raining outside sounds so romantic!
Ellana Lavellan sat on her cloak on the damp ground as she observed the dark clouds rolling in the distance. Across the campfire Blackwall sat quietly whittling wood, the sharp knife slicing slivers onto the earth. Dorian had retreated to a nearby stream - to freshen up, he had said emphatically, for he obviously missed the conveniences they had taken for granted back at Skyhold that were now luxuries denied them.
Next to Ellana sat Solas, his slender fingers twirled about a pencil as an empty book lay across his lap. The past week had been eventful, Ellana reflected as she stared into the fire. Traipsing across the Hinterlands, closing rifts and saving druffalos – well, one druffalo – it had been hectic and the party was finally glad when they could find some time and a nice spot to make camp.
Thunder sounded in the distance as Ellana looked back up at the darkening sky; she could smell the rain in the air, and began to wonder whether Dorian had gone far. No sooner had she stood up did the Tevinter saunter back into camp, fresh and clean.
"It's going to rain." Solas said absently.
"Well of course." Dorian replied irritably. Ellana sighed softly under her breath. The two mages did not exactly see eye to eye, although she was glad that at least Solas kept quiet.
"I'll be in my tent if anyone needs me." Blackwall gestured pointedly to his tent as he stood up and went in, the flap falling noiselessly behind him.
"Well – I will be in my tent, reading, if you need me." A peculiar smile crossed Dorian's face as he regarded the Inquisitor, and then Solas, and then the Inquisitor again. Ellana groaned inwardly as she rolled her eyes.
"Solas." She turned to face him, and her eyes were instinctively drawn to his lips as she recalled the kiss they had shared in the Fade not two weeks past, and she wanted desperately to shut her inner mind up.
"Yes, Inquisitor?"
"I – can I watch you draw?" The words tumbled out of her mouth before she could begin to comprehend them, and her mind went blank. And then she let out a breath she did not know she had been holding.
Solas seemed taken aback as he tucked his sketchbook under his arm and made to enter his tent. After a pause, his lips turned up in a soft smile. "Sure."
She followed him into his tent tentatively, mentally berating herself, knowing full well that both Blackwall and Dorian knew, and she briefly wondered how she would fend off their curiosity later. The tent was small – standard-issue Inquisition-sized – but Solas had somehow managed to make it look cosy despite the meagre belongings they all carried with them. A soft wolf pelt was placed atop his bedroll, and his travelling pack, spell book and staff lay close by. The faint smell of sandalwood and grass lingered.
"I can't believe you carry your sketchbook with you on the road." She laughed, her anxiety at whether this was the right thing to do fading, as Solas removed the pelt from his bedroll and placed it before her, motioning for her to sit. It was soft and plush and Ellana threaded her fingers through it as she admired its lushness.
"You never know when inspiration strikes." He replied simply as he sat opposite her on the bare bedroll.
"So, has inspiration struck yet?" Ellana was aware of their proximity...and of the privacy the tent, and the rain that had just begun outside, afforded, and her thoughts quickly strayed to indecent ones that involved little, if any, clothing. She gulped.
"Well." He paused as he looked at her, his eyes locking hers in an intense gaze; a shiver went down her spine and her face turned pink. "Yes."
"Oh!"
"I – I'll show you." Solas said quickly as he flipped open the sketchbook.
"Strange." Ellana laughed. "I would have thought you'll be very private with your sketches."
"Not when you are the inspiration for many." He replied softly as slender fingers touched hers softly and guided her to a drawing on one of the pages.
Ellana's heart skipped a beat at his words as her face flushed crimson red, his touch electric. But there it was – a beautiful, if somewhat small, watercolour sketch of the garden back at Skyhold. The flowers were in full bloom, and she recognised them as the ones she had planted. Embriums, all of them, the red vivid against the cool palette of the sketch.
"It's beautiful. And the embriums..." Her voice trailed off.
"You like embriums." He replied simply as he smiled, a soft blush touching his cheeks. Silence hung in the air as she admired the painting, and the quiet wasn't exactly uncomfortable. And then Solas continued. "I must confess, I was inspired to paint this after I saw you plant those flowers. So vivid and vibrant and full of life. Like you."
"Like...me?" Ellana's heart pounded in her chest.
"Yes." He flipped the page again, to a very familiar scene.
"Skyhold," Ellana breathed as she ran her fingers gently along the paper, admiring the scene that Solas had painted: the courtyard of Skyhold. The main hall and the tower that contained her room were clearly visible, the painting bright and cheery with dabs of green and earth.
"You inspire me, Inquisitor." He took the sketchbook away and placed it next to him as he held her hand softly.
"Solas –"
"I would wish to paint you. If you would permit me." His eyes were dancing with mirth now as he smiled at her.
"I would wish for you to do so." Ellana said softly as she averted her gaze, embarrassed. A sudden mortifying thought occurred to her. She very nearly yelled. "Wait – naked?" Oh, f –
Solas laughed so loudly she half-expected Blackwall and Dorian to burst into the tent, the Grey Warden with sword and shield and the Tevinter with spells blazing. Her face flushed a deeper red as she looked at her fingernails.
"Naked? No, no." He shook his head as if to emphasise his point. His cheeks were pink with laughter and he caught her embarrassed gaze with his own. "Come, sit here."
"Now?" She sat upright as she looked at Solas, who was rearranging his belongings in his room to make more space.
"The rain is not stopping anytime soon. So this would be a good time...unless you'll rather wait till we return to Skyhold?"
"I – no. But why do you want to paint me?" She sat upright on the wolf pelt again as she looked at him.
"I have mentioned that you inspire me, Inquisitor. It is only fitting that I paint a portrait of my muse."
"Your muse?"
"That is what you are, no? Please stay still and smile."
"I don't know what to say." She watched as he flipped open his sketchbook to an empty page and began to sketch, the pencil moving nimbly across the blank paper. "How have I inspired you?" Her smile grew bigger as she kept still, her back straight, as Solas sketched.
"You are so full of life. You bring hope and joy to everyone around you."
"And how about you specifically?" Ellana suddenly felt very bold and daring.
"I have told you before in the Fade, Ellana." His tongue caressed her name slightly, sending thrills down her spine, and then he paused as he looked at her. "You have changed...everything." His gaze returned to his sketchbook.
"Everything what, exactly?"
Solas chuckled, and Ellana realised she quite liked the way he looked when he smiled; she could definitely get used to it. "Everything is everything, is it not? It encompasses...everything."
"Including your drawings." Ellana remarked wistfully.
"Yes, including my drawings. Especially my drawings."
"I really don't know what to say." She whispered softly as she blushed again.
"You don't have to say anything," Solas smiled softly as he held up his pencil to estimate length and placed it to paper once more. Outside, the rain continued to fall, fat drops splashing against the mud, the sound soothing.
"Are you done?" Eagerness clouded Ellana's voice.
"Patience, Ellana." And Solas smiled as he reached into a little leather carrier and retrieved a small, wooden box. Catching her surprised eye, he opened it to reveal circles of colour inlaid on the wooden surface.
"Paint?" Ellana raised an eyebrow, incredulous.
"Ground and ready to use." Solas replied simply as he opened a small glass container of water and dipped his paintbrush in, before picking up colour from the inlaid circles of paint. Solas was careful to keep the drawing angled just so, hidden from her view, but Ellana watched anyway as the top of the paintbrush moved swiftly across the paper.
Fat drops of rain continued splashing down upon the tents as Ellana waited patiently for the artist to be done. After what seemed like forever, Solas finally sat upright and smiled. "It is done."
"Let me see!"
And he did. Ellana stared at the completed drawing, her mouth slightly agape as she took in the details. It was beautiful. Her wavy red hair framed her freckled, soft pink face; her smile, with a light wash of colour, looked back at her as she resisted the urge to run her fingers along the textured paper. Solas eyed her carefully.
"What do you think?"
"It – it's so beautiful." Ellana blinked and said softly. "I love it."
Solas smiled as he leant close and pried the sketchbook carefully out from her hand and laid it nearby to dry. There was a twinkle in his eye as he sat close to her, and Ellana was surprised and speechless when he drew her close to him, until she sat leaning against his chest. She could hear the rhythmic pounding of his heart as she leant against him wordlessly, his arms encircling her waist respectfully.
"Ar lath ma, vhenan." He whispered softly as one hand moved to stroke her hair. Ellana's heart raced at his words and she made to speak – but no words escaped her strangled lips and she fell silent. She wanted so badly to turn around and press her lips to his but she didn't. Instead she leant against him, their hearts beating as one, sitting in comfortable silence as they enjoyed the moment.
Outside, the rain continued to fall.