She is quiet now, bright amber eyes dimming as sleep and the steady rock of his arms carry her towards slumber. He can still hear her voice bouncing across the walls as she announces herself with raucous abandon. He has never heard a sweeter thing.
Solas runs a finger up the slope of her small nose, across scrunched brow to swirl in the fuzz of raven hair atop her crown. Not for the first time does he bring her close to him and kiss soft skin, breathe in her scent. He does not know how to describe it accurately. It is warm and makes him think of endless possibilities, of spring's first bloom. It is something altogether new.
He holds her close to reassure himself that she is real, that any of this is real. He has spent countless centuries between the worlds, a vagabond drifting with no tether to anything tangible but his solitude and grief. She is his anchor, this small, fragile miraculous thing and his love for her is already rooted deep within his breast.
The bed shifts beside him and he can hear the smile in a gentle exhale. "She's not going to disappear if you put her down."
"I would rather not take that chance."
"Solas." The tender tone of her voice pulls at his attention. Her skin is returning to its usual warmth, the turmoil since wiped clean from her body, and there is a tired triumph in the angle of her mouth. Keela reaches out for him and when she gives a weak tug, he is helpless against it. Ever so careful, he places the small bundle between them before stretching out on his side.
His gaze returns to the slumbering child. He does not believe he could ever grow tired of looking at her. The long years fall away at the sight of her plump cheeks. There is only the present in each breath she takes, only the now that rules over his thoughts. Solas runs his touch across her tiny fingers and toes and counts them all once, twice. This cannot be real.
Keela's hand moves under his chin and lifts his eyes to her all-knowing stare. Solas drapes his arm over them both, grounding himself in the touch. Despite her weary state, Keela holds onto him tight as she whispers into their embrace. We're yours. You deserve this and more. This is real and it is yours, you beautiful, wonderful fool. I love you I love you I love you.
Solas breathes out and the air shudders back into his lungs, his sight blurring at the truth and wonder of it all. He speaks the words back to her with unabashed worship. This force who brought the world to its knees. This goddess who made his heart mortal so he could love her forever. This queen who has given him a kingdom.
She yawns, still very much an exhausted woman. "You should rest, vhenan."
Keela grumbles even as her eyelids flutter. "I think you should know her name first."
"You have decided then?"
"Perhaps if you would have helped me I wouldn't have taken so long." He opens his mouth to protest and she sighs, swiping her fingers against his lips to silence him. "Yes, yes, I know. Your Elvhen tradition."
She leans forward and wraps an arm around their child. Solas has seen her resplendent in glistening armor, breathtaking in shimmering silk and irresistible in nothing at all, but now, with her lips pressed against new life, he has never seen her more beautiful.
"And your choice?" he questions and she laughs at the eagerness laced in it. She pauses just a moment longer and he fakes a frown. "Ke-"
"Fenera."
His grimace turns sincere as the name washes over him, carrying him off to sink into its deep sentiment. "I…," he clears his throat, but the words stick. There is no way to thank her properly with such fleeting things so he settles for the adoration in his eyes, the gratitude rolling down his cheek.
Keela's smile is kind, understanding, as she wipes it away. "It's perfect, don't you think?"
He glances down at his dream made real. "Yes, perfect."