AN: So this is an exerpt from one of my long stories, A Dance Along The Grey, but you don't need a whole lot of background to enjoy smut. Isa Lavellan is the woman here, full name is Isenatha. Da'avise is Solas's nickname for her, it means little flame. Enjoy!
It was late in the evening, a few days after their return from Crestwood, and Isa was in her room, combing out her hair after a long day. The odd crinkles in her hair from being up in a tight bun all day gradually smoothed themselves out as she brushed, adding rosewater to her hair to help the process and to get dust out. Her delicate fingers helped untangle any knots. She looked in the mirror, her eyes tracing the vallaslin on her face. She looked down at the table part of the vanity, where Josephine had left her a sort of gift. Make-up. It wasn't much, stains for her lips, powder for her cheeks and eyes, but Josephine expected her and the Inquisitor to be invited to many more formal events in the future and wanted her to learn how to wear it.
Now was as good a time as any to practice.
What had Josephine said? Isa was trying to remember. There were several brushes, a bunch of coloured powders, pastes, paints, all sorts of things. "When you practice, start simple. You have bright eyes, so start with something soft and light. I would suggest the gold powder, just a little on your eyelids, then a line of black, like this. Make it look like a wing." Isa started with that, taking one of the smaller brushes and dipping it in the golden-bronze dust. She leaned in close to the mirror to see, dusting it lightly on her eyelid. The candle light made it sparkle. She did the same to the other eye. Isa had to admit, it was rather pretty.
She took a thin brush and dipped it into the black paste. How different could it be than vallaslin? She had never done real vallaslin, but all Dalish children practiced with paints made from crushed berries. She did what Josephine had showed her, making a delicate line along her lashes, coming to a point past the corner of her eye. She did the same for the other. It made her eyes pop.
She moved onto her cheeks. Over the black vallaslin she took some of the pink dust on a big, fluffy brush and brushed it over her cheeks. She looked like a blushing maiden. She giggled a little bit, actually enjoying herself. She was never one for vanity, but she did like looking pretty upon occasion.
She looked at the colours Josephine had given her for her lips. "You have very full lips and pale skin," Josephine had said, "try a darker lipstick. The red will come out because of your hair." Isa dipped a brush into one of the pastes; it looked like a rich red wine. She looked in the mirror and slowly brushed it over her lips, the shininess going away as it soaked in. She traced the curve of her lips with the brush, filling out the middle with the lovely colour. Josephine had been right. She looked beautiful. She sat there for a moment admiring herself, the way her copper hair curled slightly around her face, the way her lips popped, the way her eyes drew her in. She smiled, feeling like a child indulging in an extra sweet after dessert.
Of course, she couldn't stop there. She looked to her clothing rack, where the simple, yet elegant satin dress suit Josephine had gotten her for a dinner the next month with some Orlesian noble hung temptingly. She pulled the gold pants on, then carefully put on the wine-coloured shirt, making sure the fabric didn't touch her face. She even put on the matching heels, taking a few practice steps in them. They felt… natural, as if she had worn heels before, though she had no memory of doing so. She twisted her hair loosely and pinned it up behind her head with the golden inquisition pin on the vanity, letting a few strands hang loose in her face. She looked in the mirror again, scarcely able to believe her eyes. Was that really her? She let herself glide around the room, imagining she was at some grand ball, imagining she was dancing, talking with strangers, having a grand time.
She was startled by a knock on her door. She didn't even have time to answer when it was pushed open slightly, "Isa? Are you in?" It was Solas. She felt so embarrassed, frozen to the spot. He entered the room, closing the door behind him, then turned and caught sight of her, and he froze, his eyes widening, his mouth slightly open.
Her confidence plummeted, and she feared she looked ridiculous, worrying suddenly that the makeup was too much, that he would think her silly dressing up for nothing, that her hair was too careless. "I…" She struggled for something to say, feeling her face heating up.
"How do you expect me to come in here and have a civil conversation when you look that ravishing, vhenan?" In an instant he hand crossed the room and had one arm around her, the other lifting her chin. Her confidence lifted again, she asked shyly, "you like it? Josephine said I should start practicing with makeup." He looked absolutely enamoured, which melted her heart. "Of course. You look beautiful. That is a lovely lipstick. I wonder if it tastes as good as it looks."
He didn't give her a chance to respond. He kissed her hard, practically shoving his tongue into her mouth. She wrapped her arms around his neck, gripping the back of his shirt, pulling him closer. His hand fell from her chin, sliding down her back, his fingers tracing her spine. She tugged on his shirt, feeling rather bold. He growled against her lips, making her shudder. He broke the kiss, looking into her eyes, his own burning with lust. "Manners, da'len." Isa raised an eyebrow, "I'm not a child, hahren." He brought his hand around from her back and rested it on the front of her neck, gently, making sure he wasn't pushing boundries. "Manners," he growled.
His hand on her neck set her on fire in ways she didn't expect. She leaned forward into it and snarled, "make me." He gave a slight squeeze and kissed her again, biting her lip and tugging. Her legs felt weak, so she leaned into him, tugging on his tunic again. He pulled away from her, raising his eyebrow expectingly. "Please?" She gave in. He smirked and removed it, pulling it over his head. He was surprisingly fit, his subtle muscles visible on his slender frame. Isa traced her fingers over them, blushing hard.
"Vhenan," he murmured, resting his hand on her cheek. She leaned into it, looking up at him. "Yes?" He smiled, shaking his head slightly. "You're irresistible, you make it so easy to give in to desire. I think about nothing but you all day, how you might feel, the sounds you might make, how beautiful you are," he kissed her again. She draped her arms over his shoulders, melting into him. He slid a hand under her shirt, his fingers tracing her ribs. She broke the kiss laughing, "that tickles!" He chuckled, tickling her more. She squealed and wriggled out of his grasp, backing away from him.
"I'm sorry, vhenan, I won't do it again." He smiled impishly at her. She put her hands on her hips, "I don't believe you." He winked at her, then turned to the bowl of water she had. "Wash off your face and change your clothes, vhenan. I wouldn't want those fine garmets to get messy with what I have planned for you."
Her face turned bright red as she realized what he meant. Of course, her surprise quickly turned to excitement, and she hurried to her clothing rack. "Turn around, Solas." "Why?" "Manners," she stuck her tongue out. He laughed softly and turned his back while she changed into a simple tunic. She decided to omit trousers, just this once. She then went to the washbasin and cleaned the makeup off her face, then let her hair down, brushing it out.
Hands snaked around her waist, and warm lips met her neck, earning a soft sigh from her lips. "Vhenan," her lover murmured against her skin. "You make me do so many things I shouldn't. You change everything." She leaned her head back against his bare shoulder. She nipped his ear softly, backing her hips into his, whispering, "you make me crazy."
"You have no idea," he growled, turning her around and pushing her against the wall, biting at her neck, letting his hands wander her body without a care. She melted at his touch, so soft, yet so demanding. She traced the subtle muscles of his back and shoulders, leaning her head back and closing her eyes. "Solas," she murmured. He chuckled softly, "ma'lin'sila*," he began, biting her shoulder rather harshly, earning a squeak. "I want you to be louder than that. Speak up so your hahren can hear you."
She lifted up one of her legs, resting her knee on his hip, moaning his name into his ear when his hand came down to run along the underside of her thigh. "Solas!" She breathed, lightly scratching his back. Every little thing he did was driving her crazy. Maybe she was just pent up after nothing but teasing and interruptions for so long. He seemed to know it too, and judging by what was pressing against her hips, he felt the same way.
"Isenatha," he murmured, kissing her collarbone. She hadn't really liked the name before, but she loved the way it sounded from his lips. She then decided that he was moving way too slow for her tastes, and decided to give him a little push. She jumped a little so both legs were around his waist and dragged her nails down his back. He let out an animalistic groan and used one hand to hold her up, gripping her rear tightly. The other grabbed the front of her shirt and burned it a little so he could rip it the rest of the way, right down the middle. Isa shivered at the hunger in his eyes. She loved it.
He wrapped both arms around her and pulled her off the wall, tossing her onto her bed. He was on her in an instant, letting his hands and mouth wander her body. She laid her head back on the pillow and let out an elated sigh, her hands gripping the blanket beneath her. "Ah!" She cried out as Solas's fingers wandered between her legs, brushing against her. She blushed at how sensitive she was. He teased her more, drinking in all the little sounds she made. Finally he pulled her smallclothes off, sliding one long finger inside of her. Her whole body reacted, her back rising up off the bed, her hands coming up to grip the pillow. "Solas~" she purred, biting her lip. He started sucking on her chest, determined to leave a mark. He added another finger and moved them slowly inside of her. "You tease," she breathed out, releasing the pillow in favour of running her hands over his shoulders.
He pulled his mouth away from her skin with a slight pop. "What are you going to do about it, vhenan?" She lifted her head up, opening her mouth to say something, only to drop it again and moan out his name as he curled his fingers inside of her. He seemed to know all the right spots to touch, his other hand wondering her body, finally coming to rest on her hips where he dug his nails in. She cursed quietly, her face flushed, breathing heavily. Solas smirked and kissed her softly, mumbling against her lips, "you seem to be enjoying yourself." She wrapped her arms around him, scratching his shoulders and biting his lip, letting out a loud groan as he hit a particularly pleasant spot with his fingers. His other hand came up from her hips to rest on her neck again. "I thought I had taught you some manners, da'avise." Breathless, she looked into his eyes.
"I guess you're gonna have to try again."
His fingers started moving faster, earning a chorus of moans and curses. Isa dug her nails into his shoulders as he bit her neck, curling his fingers, "say my name," he growled. "Solas!" He bit harder, so she cried out louder, "SOLAS!" A wave of euphoria washed over her as all the pent up energy she had released. She laid back breathless, releasing her grip on her lover's shoulders. Solas chuckled softly, sliding his fingers out of her and bringing them to his own lips, looking into her eyes as he sucked them clean. Just like that, Isa's lust was renewed. She sat up, pushing on his shoulders and straddling him. He seemed surprised, but allowed her to do so. She leaned down and pressed her lips to his, then murmured, "Ar isalan ma latha em.**" Solas rested his hands on her hips, and his voice absolutely melted her. "Garas, aman ara'mis.***"
With quick fingers, Isa untied his leggings and pulled them off of him, tossing them aside. She crawled over him, settling her hips over his, letting out a soft gasp as she slid down on him. "Oh, Solas," she leaned her head back, lifting herself up before sliding back down. He held her hips, the look on his face absolutely sinful. His moans drove her wild, making her bounce faster, making her desperate. She braced her hands on his chest, enamoured by his expression. His lips slightly parted, his chiseled jaw tense, his eyes fluttering with every movement, he was putty in her hands, and she loved it.
"Isa," he moaned, gripping her hips tightly, his hips moving up to meet hers. "Isenatha," he cried out, one hand releasing her hips and coming up to hold one of hers. She interlocked her fingers with his next to his head, her other hand remaining on his chest. "Solas, vhenan!" She cried out, sitting up straight as her stomach tightened. "Isa!" He squeezed her hand tightly, closing his eyes as he finished.
Isa laid on his chest, breathing heavily. She felt like she was in heaven. He continued to hold her hand, his other hand tracing her spine gently. She smiled, then turned her head, pressing her mouth to his collarbone and sucking. "What are you doing?" She only hummed in response until she was finished. "You left a mark on me," she stated, admiring the purple mark forming on his pale flesh. "It was only fair." Solas brought her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers. "You are the most beautiful woman I have ever met, vhenan."
Isa grinned, kissing him sweetly. "That was incredible, Solas." She kissed his cheek, trailing down to his jaw, then settled her head on his shoulder. He ran his fingers through her hair, letting out a sigh of contentment. "We should get cleaned up," he spoke after a few minutes. Isa nodded, getting up. "Stay with me tonight?" She asked, feeling shy all of a sudden. "Of course, vhenan," he kissed her cheek. "Ar lath ma."
*my student
**I want you (a closer translation would be 'I lust for you')
***Come to me, let me sheathe my blade within you