A/N: Inspired by a kinkmeme prompt, but even so this is probably the hardest time I have had writing smut! I hope that you enjoy it nonetheless, please let me know if you do. Constructive criticism equally welcome.
The Exalted Plains. A long way from home, Verah Lavellan thought, in so many ways. This place was part of the history of her people, but there were reminders everywhere of death and destruction, so many that made her wonder about what might have been, had elven blood not been spilled like water on these fields. She sighed deeply. No matter how many years pass, war is the one constant in this life.
Just like so many of the other places they had travelled, there were bandits and demons to be fought. She stood three paces behind the man who had become her mentor and her lover, watching him cast his barriers and draw on the power of the Fade to strike down their enemies. How could it be, she wondered, that she could watch someone in the heat of battle and think only of the heat he drew from her?
She had been a proficient mage before she met him, but she had learned so much more about her natural abilities during the hours she had spent sitting with him in front of the fire, talking long into the night. He had been only too willing to share his knowledge and stories of the history he had seen in dreams walking in the Fade, his face lighting up like an excited child every time she asked him a question.
She had not been nearly as experienced in the ways of courtship, and of this he had taught her more than she had believed possible. From the first moment she had awkwardly pressed her lips to his, quick and shy, she had given herself over to him body and soul. He was like no elf she had ever met, as powerful as he was graceful, and no matter how many nights she lay in his arms, sated and content, she knew it would never be enough.
Even in their dreams they would often walk together as he guided her through the Fade, showing her sights that she could never have imagined. To be by his side in this world of spirits and memories was so incredible that she often felt as if she wouldn't care if she never woke up.
Verah realised abruptly that she was smiling as she watched Solas jump down from a rock and head into the mouth of a cave, one that looked created rather than worn, as if it once had a purpose.
"What is this place?" she said, as she gazed around the dank stone ruin, lit only by flickering azure veilfire.
"Once, it would have been an elven bath house," Solas said, glancing back over his shoulder. "It is likely that there would have been a hot spring nearby, and people would come here to sit in the steam and wash themselves clean. A luxury, really, since most would have had to manage with river water."
"It sounds lovely," Verah said, trying to imagine what it would feel like to soak away the strains of the Inquisition. "It is a very long time since I have had a truly hot bath, I have rather forgotten what it is like."
"A shame, then, that the spring runs no more," Solas said with a lopsided smile. She caught the look in his eyes and felt a spark of electricity shoot into her stomach. He means to connect to this place later, she thought, and suddenly she couldn't wait for night to fall.
They decided to spend the night in camp at the Path of Flame; they were as safe there as anywhere, and it made sense not to wander too far as there was still much to do to help the Orlesian army clear the undead from their ramparts for good.
As was his usual habit, Solas placed wards around the camp on arrival and disappeared immediately into his tent. He was not one for fireside stories or socialising over an ale with the infantry. Verah knew that, for him, the pull of the Fade – especially in a place as steeped in history as this one – was far stronger than the need to be around others. It was one of the things she admired in him – that single-minded focus which lent him a deep strength of character – but she alone of their party had seen another side to the mage. She knew that beneath his immersion in study, beneath that calm, scholarly exterior was a gentle, wanting person, one who had opened up like a blossoming rose to her touch as if he had been starved of affection for far too long. He was lonely; this she understood without him needing to say a word.
Yet here, with her, he had found a kindred spirit in many ways. She had become enamoured with his world, had been happy to share in everything that made him who he was. Each night he would still retire early to spend hours in a transcendent sleep, but now he was not alone.
She smiled her goodnights at Sera and Cassandra, pointedly ignoring Sera's rude gesture with tongue and fingers, before pushing open the flap of the tent she shared with Solas and sinking down on to their bedroll.
He was already half-asleep as she curled her body into his, feeling the warmth of his skin and the gentle thrumming of the pulse on his neck under her lips. He murmured softly and reached for her fingers, entwining them with his as they slipped together into dreams.
The water shimmered in the way it only could in the Fade, the curtain of the waterfall glinting in the sun. She could barely feel Solas' hand in hers, such were the strength of the memories here. Her ears popped as she adjusted to the sounds which surrounded them, the rushing of the water, the way it crashed off the rocks in the river, the distant shouts of battle and ringing of sword on shield.
Verah breathed shallowly, the smell of ash and blood stinging her nostrils. The Dales were burning, and the elves were burning with them. She felt her muscles tense and her teeth grind as she watched the final stand of her people play out before her.
The elf holding the line before them was of a height no modern elf would reach, broad in the shoulder and narrow of hip. Of course, Verah thought, this image of him would be constructed from memories, and it was entirely possible that the man had been elevated by those around him into this imposing warrior.
Rajmael, Solas breathed into her ear, sending prickles down her spine. Could this really be the famous general? It would fit, she thought, as she saw the man swinging his axe wildly, cutting down the first of the shemlen to reach him almost without effort. It was clear, though, despite the efforts of what remained of the elvhen warriors, that they were on the verge of annihilation. Tears sprung into her eyes as she watched a burly, bearded human knight knock the giant axe from the man's hand with his shield, sending the elf to his knees. The end came swift after that, the silver slash of a sword and the river around them ran red with blood.
"Take me away from here," she whispered, her voice breaking on the words.
As they walked the plains, the sound of the fighting diminished and finally vanished, the old memories fading into the ether.
"Our clan tells a different story," she said quietly, eyes pained as she searched Solas' face for answers. She remembered the tale of Rajmael's defiant sacrifice, yet the echoes of the past suggested a rather more ignominious end for the general.
"That is often the way of things," Solas said, his fingers tightening around her palm. "Remember, the past is the memory of many, and people have different truths. We only see some of the tale."
Verah looked at him with no small surprise. When she had first met Solas, she remembered how derisory he had been about the Dalish people, the scorn he had poured on their stories. She had been prideful and robustly defended her clan as the keepers of history. Yet everything he had shown her had proven her wrong, and he had never once mocked her.
"Let me show you something different then, vhenan," he said with a smile. Blinking, she realised that they were standing before the elven baths, now fully restored. The only sound was the bubble of the hot springs. The building was completely deserted.
Verah's eyes were wide. "How did you…?"
Solas cut her off with the secret smile that she fancied only she saw. "Ah, vhenan, I could tell you, but I prefer to spend our time here indulging in other pursuits."
She huffed in surprise and felt her heart leap into her throat. It had been four months since she had first kissed him, four months of passionate explorations of body and mind, yet it was still such a pleasant thrill each time the soft-spoken elf was so bold with her.
"Tell me more," she said, her breath feathering his ear.
"I would rather show you," he said, wrapping one arm around her waist as he guided her to the waiting water.
Verah looked around her in wonder as she descended the steps into the baths. Nothing in the earlier ruin could have prepared her for this, she thought, having pictured a plain stone room full of unclean bodies. The walls were high and appeared to be made from a polished granite, the natural striations curling in intricate patterns pleasing to the eye. Surrounding the pools were effigies of the old gods, created from a material she did not know and had never seen. They were silver like iron, but textured like stone, and each of them was set with jewels of all colours which twinkled in the light from the myriad lanterns set into the walls.
Beside each pool sat a number of embellished golden jars which bore a resemblance to those seen at ancient burial grounds, only these appeared to have a different purpose. She lifted the lid from one, scenting vanilla and musk.
"Oils and potions," Solas murmured from behind her. "These baths were for the higher ranking among the people."
Verah's golden eyes glowed in the lamplight as she spun slowly, taking in the majesty of what the old ruin had become.
"This is beautiful," she said, smiling in wonder as she ran her fingers over an elaborately carved wolf statue.
"Yes," Solas said, regarding her with an intensity that made her shiver. Silently, he pulled her into his arms and she melted into a kiss that caused her knees to crumple.
His long fingers were nimble and strong and they made quick work of the buckles and belts that held her robes in place. Verah watched him work, his face calm and eyes sparkling as he methodically undressed her, only the slight tightening of his jaw giving away how desperately he wanted to see her unclothed. Her skin was pale and pebbled, and she was grateful for the heat of the steam that she could somehow feel as it puffed in clouds around her body, and the heat of his body as he pressed against her back.
"Is this as you imagined?" he said, his voice husky in her ear. She shuddered despite the warmth of the room.
"It's amazing, Solas. Thank you."
She turned to face him and her eyes widened at the serious look on his face. He pushed her short dark locks behind her ear and spoke in a low voice she had never heard from him before.
"Will you give yourself to me, da'vhenan?"
She almost laughed, almost told him that she gave herself to him every day of her life, but something in his expression stopped her. Something intense and as old as the skies.
"Yes, ma'lath," she whispered, feeling as if her voice was barely audible over the beating of her heart.
He inclined his head once, silently, then reached for one of the jars behind them.
"Lay down," he said, his voice clear and firm. She felt she couldn't speak now if she wanted to, all she could do was to follow his order. The floor was polished and surprisingly warm under her skin, the stone smooth against her breasts as she stretched her body out before him.
The oil he had chosen smelled of jasmine and it permeated the steamy air, rich and floral. She gasped as she felt the first contact of his fingers smoothing along her skin, the oil drawing shining pathways to show where he had touched her. He glided his palms along her back, rubbing at the muscles which ached with their long journeys, loosening the knots and tension that she carried with her like the heaviest burden. She closed her eyes, losing herself in the feelings that snaked along her body, the soft elvhen words Solas was whispering to her. Even if she could not quite hear what he was saying, the meaning was clear.
Sighing, she rolled over on to her back, presenting him with her nudity and relishing the look on his face as he gazed upon her.
"Touch me, Solas, please," she almost whimpered as her body curled towards him in wanting. She saw him swallow hard and inhale a deep breath before he leaned over her and began to run a finger along her clavicle, his steel blue eyes almost black with desire in the flickering light of the flames.
This was delicious torture, a slow exploration of every inch of her skin, oiled until it shone and scented with exotic perfume. His fingers danced across her nipples as she arched her back and bit her lip, nerves singing with the electricity of her need for him. She was almost incoherent by the time he parted her thighs and began to stroke her, fingers slick with oil and with her arousal.
Verah writhed at his touch, feeling the tension build within her as she headed towards her peak. She could never get enough of feeling this way, as if everything in the world had narrowed down to this single point in time and space, to just two people in one perfect moment as if nothing in the world was falling apart.
Just as her skin started to feel too tight, just as she was on the verge of shattering beneath him, Solas stopped. Verah let out a desperate whine and pulled him down towards her.
"Patience, ma'lath," he said, smiling at her furious expression. "I have not finished with you yet."
Solas slipped out of his own robe before gathering her in his arms as if she weighed nothing – and, she supposed, in the Fade she probably did. Together, they sank into the inviting, steamy pool and she gasped breathlessly as the heat blossomed over her skin. Verah could not remember a time she had felt this relaxed, the water from the spring bubbling lightly around their entwined bodies.
Verah let her muscles loosen as she rested against his chest. She felt his hands upon her head, his deft fingers tracing circles along her scalp. He was washing her hair, she realised, as she caught the smell of herbs and the light fizzing sounds of foam bubbles forming around her sensitive ears.
"You are so wonderful," she said, her voice rough with desire as she sank into the sensations he was drawing from her body, equal parts lust and contentment. She felt him pause at her words, a momentary stillness before he continued his ministrations with a sharp exhalation of breath.
"And you are far too kind to me," Solas said softly. He sounded so sad that Verah twisted in his arms, searching his face for his emotions. As usual, his countenance was calm and still, and she frowned.
"I am not kind enough, my love," she said, her hand on his cheek. "It seems you have no idea what you mean to me."
"On the contrary," he said, "I have a very good idea, and it is more than I deserve."
"Why don't we let me be the judge of that," she said, tracing her fingertips along the soft skin of his face, across his lips. He closed his eyes and sighed.
"You are more beautiful than anything I have seen even in my most exhilarating dreams. You should know… I love you with all that I am," he whispered, his voice breaking on the words.
"And I love you too," she said, "always."
She pulled his face down to hers and their lips met in a soft kiss which quickly became something deeper, more urgent. It seemed to her as if all their feelings for each other were being transferred into this one desperate embrace. Her hands skated over the smooth planes of his chest, making him shudder against her. How she thrilled at the reactions she could pull from him, normally such a private and introspective individual with the sort of self-control she could only dream of. He was losing that control now in front of her eyes, moaning her name as she curled her hand around him.
"I want to feel you, Solas," she whispered into his ear, and it was as if the fire between them had been stoked to an instant blaze. With a guttural groan, Solas dug his hands into her hips, making her gasp as he pushed her back against the side of the pool none too gently, her legs wrapping around his narrow waist as he pressed his body into her.
"Please," she half-sobbed as he began to push inside her, his teeth marking the pale skin of her shoulder as he stifled his own cries. Once he was fully sheathed within her he stilled, holding her as if she were made of glass. She wriggled beneath him, desperate for the friction of his movement.
"So eager, da'len," Solas chuckled throatily, the vibrations quivering through her body and causing her to whine impatiently. He laughed again before beginning to move - slow, languid and decisive thrusts which had her keening and shaking beneath him within minutes. She never tired of seeing the expression on his face when she came, the almost innocent delight and pride that he had brought her to this moment.
Verah's whole body was fizzing with her climax and her skin felt sensitive all over as Solas continued to move inside her, quickening his pace and burying his face in her neck. His breath was hot against her ear as he muttered words that meant nothing to her, harsh desperate sounds which could have been pain or pleasure. She felt his hand slip between them and press against the junction of her thighs, circling her clitoris with a feather light touch.
Oh Creators, she thought, I'm going to… and she tipped into an orgasm even more powerful than the first, her whole body on fire with sensation and with the sheer closeness she felt to this man. Her body pulsed around him, drawing him to his own peak and he came with a gasp, his arms pulling her close and her name spilling from his lips like a song.
They sank down into the heated water in blissful silence, hands and fingertips tracing light patterns on damp skin, whispering words of love as they drifted away into the deeper realms of sleep.
Verah sighed and yawned as she awoke to tendrils of daylight peeking through the tent flap, an indolent smile on her face. She lay nestled tightly against Solas' bare chest in the bedrolls, feeling the warmth of his sleeping body and the fluttering of his heart beneath her cheek. Such a good heart, she thought, the best she had ever known. She loved him more than life itself, and there was no better reason to keep fighting than this.