A/N: For the Secret Santa exchange over on ye ol' facebook. I got paired with my favorite person ever, the best beta and best friend a gal could have. I know you would probably prefer your own headcannon characters and such but I get so terrified writing someone else's headcannon/characters, that I just made something up. A tiny bit of (nondescriptive/random) F!Lavellan and Solas fluff because I couldn't resist. I hope you like it. Merry Christmas Dear!
Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Age.
Have yourself a Merry little Satinalia!
...
It was early in the morning when Lavellan was pulled from her slumber with a knock on her door.
"Hnngg-whaf-?" She was sure whatever had just come out of her mouth had not been any known language but it made no matter. The minute her sleep-ridden words were out, the door swung open. Loud cheerful music and cheers drifted in before the door shut.
Lavellan blinked at the two women making their way to her bed. Josephine lacked her ever-present parchment, candle, and quill. In fact, as Lavellan tried to blink the sleep from her eyes, she was almost sure she was still dreaming.
In place of Josephine's usual gold and blue silk, she was dressed in a deep red, velvet gown. Gold threading was present in the stitching and her collar dipped low on her shoulders. Her usual up-do was gone. Instead, her long, glossy, dark hair was down with soft curls at the ends.
The effect was incredible.
Lavellan shifted her gaze to the woman beside her.
Where Josephine was dressed in eye catching reds and golds, Vivienne was dressed in a radiant blue. Silk and lace wrapped around her like liquid, making her darker skin tone practically glow, and Lavellan had to glance away in envy. These women were beautiful, and she and her willowy figure could never compete.
Shaking her head from these thoughts, it finally occurred to her to ask why they were so dressed up. "What's going on?" Was all she managed before Vivienne raised a brow, planting her hand on her hip.
"Do get up, Darling. We have much work to do, and little time to get it done," she insisted.
Lavellan pushed herself into a sitting position, pouting.
She attempted to wrack her brain for clues but nothing was forthcoming. She wasn't traveling to the Western Approach for another week. Her shoulder was still healing from the arrow she had taken no more than five days ago.
She glanced at Josephine in bewilderment. "Work to do?" she inquired.
Josephine took pity on her, patting her hand, and sitting on the edge of the bed.
"I don't know what the elves call it or if you even have something similar, but everyone else calls it Satinalia. In Antiva, we celebrate for at least a week!" She explained, her eyes lighting up in excitement, "It's very festive! Of course, that's not practical here, sadly, but it would be good for morale if we were to have a little fun, yes? There's to be a feast tonight, and everyone will exchange gifts afterwards."
Lavellan was completely lost, but she nodded at Josephine in false understanding. She'd ask someone else about it later. Perhaps Varric would know.
"I don't care much for this day, but we simply cannot have you in your usual drab. It's a celebration after all," Vivienne piped in. "Despite the dreariness of Skyhold, Josephine has managed to work magic to turn this place into something presentable. Lively even." As Vivienne spoke, she snooped around in Lavellan's wardrobe while making noises in disapproval. "What am I to do with you, dear?"
Lavellan had learned long ago it was best not to answer. As she pondered why this was happening to her, she pinched herself, hoping it was all a bad dream. Moments later Dorian all but danced on his toes as he entered. She held back a groan of misery.
Clearly, going back to sleep was out of the question. She scolded herself for not having locked the door before going to sleep last night. A mistake she was sure she would never make again.
"Vivienne! Don't panic, sweetheart!" He exclaimed, "I was more prepared for this. Had the tailor whip something up. He already had her measurements. Would you be a dear and fetch it?"
Vivienne gave him a scathing look at the mere suggestion that she be an errand girl.
"I am no hound," she snipped.
Dorian rolled his eyes but before he could retort, Josephine cut in."Oh! I will! I have a question for him I had been meaning to ask." She got up from the bed, making her way to the door. "I'll be back in but a moment!" She called over her shoulder.
Vivienne made her way over to Lavellan. Picking up a strand of her hair, she tutted. The elf frowned in annoyance but after the success at Halamshiral, she had learned to trust Vivienne in these matters.
"This simply will not do," Vivienne said, allowing Lavellan's wispy hair to flutter back down, "Sit tight, dearest. I'll be back."
With that, Vivienne departed as quickly as she had entered and Lavellan was left alone with Dorian. The Tevinter, whom she had come to like after their initial rocky start, plopped down on her bed. He grinned at her, lips almost disappearing in his outrageous mustache.
She narrowed her eyes in suspicion, "What?"
"Oh, nothing," he replied, his voice rising higher than his normal cadence. His eyes betrayed his innocence, however, as they twinkled in mischief. She raised a brow, determined to wait him out.
Finally, Dorian huffed, glancing away. "Bloody hell, you're too good at that."
She laughed, before poking him in the arm."Tell me. What is it?" She would be relentless if need be.
Dorian reached up, and touched the necklace around his neck she hadn't noticed before. It was a simple gold chain, nothing flashy, which was unusual for the Tevinter.
"Oh, that's beautiful. Where did you get that?" She asked, reaching out to finger the chain. It was warm to the touch, like he'd been wearing it for a while.
Dorian bit his lip and Lavellan quirked her brow in amusement. "A gift...from...ian tull." He muttered the last bit.
"I'm sorry, from whom?" She asked, leaning forward some so she could hear better.
He repeated himself but she still didn't catch what he said.
She huffed, swatting his shoulder. "Stop that and tell me."
Dorian glared at her, rubbing at his shoulder even though she knew it hadn't hurt him. "I said... Iron Bull," He looked away from her quickly, blushing scarlet.
She knew he pretended he and Iron Bull were completely casual. Perhaps they had started that way but Lavellan knew the truth. Dorian was in love, and if she knew Bull as well as she thought, the qunari was just as smitten.
Giggling, she threw her arms around him. "How sweet!" She enthused, laughing harder when she heard him grumble, "Was it an early Satinaly present?"
"Satinalia," he corrected.
She shrugged, "Don't deflect the question." With that said she rose from bed, giving him time to prepare the whole story.
She knew he would crack. He always did. As he opened his mouth to launch into what she was sure to be a lovely play by play, footsteps echoed outside her door.
Dorian mouth clamped shut, and he rolled his eyes. "I'll just have to tell you another time," he said, rising from the bed as well, "Don't you dare say a word! Varric is still hounding me for details so he can start his next book. I blame you completely for it."
Lavellan waved her hand. "You blame me for everything."
Dorian laughed, sauntering out of her room as Josephine bustled busily in. The tailor, an Antivan man with a severe face and quick movements, trailed quickly behind her. Some kind of emerald green cloth was draped over his arm and silver slippers in hand.
"I'll hand it to Dorian, he certainly knows how to save the day," Josephine conceded.
The tailor said nothing as he held the dress up for Lavellan's inspection. The gown was simpler than she expected.
It was long, down to her ankles at least, with silver threading. She touched a hand to it, and let out a small 'oh' in satisfaction as soft velvet moved between her fingers. The sleeves were long as well and flared out at the bottom. Silver designs were subtly stitched in at the end of the sleeves, around the collar, and at the bottom of the dress. Instead of a corset the waist was tied with what originally appeared as a silver belt, but upon closer inspection had the same muted stitching as the rest of it. As she squinted to see, she let out a surprised gasp, her eyes rising to meet the tailors.
"Little hallas! How clever!" She exclaimed.
The tailor smiled in appreciation. "You like it, yes?" He asked.
She nodded, enthusiastic. "Very much so, thank you."
The man bobbed his head, before handing the gown and slippers over. Lavellan took them with eagerness. She may not understand this holiday, and she didn't care much for dressing up, but this was magnificent in its simplicity. The fact that the tailor had included a piece that was wholly hers, like little hallas in the design, made her eyes well up in gratitude. As the man left so she could put it on, she thanked profusely.
"Happy Satinalia, Herald," he said as he walked out the door.
"How sweet he is. We should double his pay," commented Lavellan, eyeing the dress in admiration.
"I'll see what I can do." Josephine replied with a hint of amusement. The door opened again, Vivienne strolling in with three servants following behind her. Each carried something hairdressing related, and Lavellan let out silent woe of despair at the torture she was sure Vivienne planned to put her through.
"Now, dear, sit. We have work to do," Vivienne clipped, holding the brush up as if it was a weapon.
Lavellan sat and it felt like hours later when Vivienne had finally finished.
Instead of Lavellan's usual pinned up braids, Vivienne had opted for the Inquisitor to wear it mostly down. She had taken the top half and braided it, adding in flowers and a green ribbon to go with her dress. It was simple yet elegant design, much like her dress, and Lavellan may have teared up a little at the sight of herself in the mirror.
After the three women had their bonding moment, Josephine had left to see how the kitchens were fairing, and Vivienne mentioned needing to get Lavellan's gift ready. It was after that, that Lavellan had realized she hadn't gotten anyone anything. She hadn't considered it as she didn't celebrate the holiday.
Feeling guilty, she decided to slip away to make a few stops.
...
Her first stop was the Undercroft where she asked the blacksmith and Dagna to make a new sword hilt for the Commander. Later, as she was dallying with the merchants, she managed to find several different gifts. By the time she made it back to her room her basket was full of random items. She laid them down on her bed in order to decide who would receive which gift.
She ran a finger over the hand-painted Antivan mask and smiled. Josephine would love it, she was sure. She set it aside, and continued her deliberation. The carved wooden horse statue would be perfect for Blackwall. The necklace made of dragon bone would fit even Iron Bull's neck. He would appreciate it most, anyway. The ink pot made of silver and gold was Varric's, there was no question in her mind.
She picked up the bottle of Tevinter wine and frowned. A conversation shared with Dorian some months ago at the tavern flitted through her head. She remembered he had been appalled that she hadn't tried Tevinter wine. Her memory of the rest of night becomes hazy after that and she smirked; definitely a gift for Dorian. She moved it aside.
She picked up the hat next. Putting it on, she wandered over to the mirror.
"This is most certainly a Cole hat," she said to empty air. She took it off and added it to the pile of gifts already established. She added the slippers next. Several conversations with the Spymaster, Leliana, had made her well aware of the woman's love for shoes.
The last item was something simple - a paintbrush. Nothing special or extraordinary, and yet when she saw it at the merchant's stall, she had wanted it. For who she'd give it to, she didn't know. Shrugging, she set it aside to contemplate later.
"That just leaves Cassandra, Vivienne, Solas, and Sera," she mused aloud. She tapped her chin in thought before turning swiftly to her door. She left her room, making her way to the kitchens. She decided on cupcakes for Sera, as the other woman hated cookies, and snagged a few other treats to use as bribery for her next two stops.
Varric had been easier to bribe than she hoped, but he was a better haggler than she had previously thought. It took the entire sack of treats (aside from the cupcakes) to get Varric to write a story for Cassandra. However, he did agree, and that's what she had wanted.
Dorian was next. As she climbed the stairs, she nibbled her lip hoping that the Tevinter would be easy to convince.
...
"You want my what?" He asked. His voice showed both his astonishment, and his amusement. She sighed.
"Please, Dorian, just this book. It's all I need," she begged, giving the snarky man her best pouty face. He rolled his eyes, and to her dismay, shook his head.
Crossing his arms as an added measure of his stance on the matter, he continued, "No way, Lavellan. That won't work this time."
Lavellan's shoulders slumped in disappointment, her face crestfallen. She turned despondently away, making it halfway to the stairs before an idea struck her. Was it cruel to use it against him? Probably, but she needed that book. Turning back around, she stomped her way over, snatching the book before he even realized what she was doing.
"Hey! Give that back!" He made to grab for it but she hopped back out of the way. She held the book over her head, and leaned away so he couldn't reach.
"Never! I need this book. Besides, if you don't let me have it, I'll tell Varric everything." She threatened.
Dorian gasped, looking betrayed. "You wouldn't!" He snarled. She lowered her chin, meeting his eyes defiantly.
Seeing the seriousness in her expression he hmphed, "Fine. Take it. But just for this, I'm never telling you anything ever again."
Lavellan laughed, walking over to kiss Dorian on the cheek. He clenched his jaw, refusing to acknowledge her.
"I swear I'll get you another one," she promised.
He scoffed. "That book is rare and very hard to find. Why did you think I didn't want to give it to you?"
"I know, which is why I wanted it," she insisted, laying a hand on his shoulder, "I will get you another copy, Dorian. I swear it. Even if I throw my status as the Inquisitor around, and have Leliana send out her agents to track it down."
At the determined assurance in her voice, Dorian's anger melted away. He grinned down at her. She gave him a relieved smile.
"Very well. Now go, before I change my mind," he mumbled. She giggled, turning away and hopping down the stairs in glee of her victory.
...
The feast was magnificent. A full course meal was spread across the table like a buffet and Lavellan's mouth watered as the smells of the different dishes tantalized her senses.
Vivienne had not been lying when she had said Josephine had worked magic. The banquet hall was bustling with servants and all walks of life. From merchants to stablemen, the hall was full of noise. Conversations rose and fell, echoing off the walls. The celebration was rife with noticed people with various backgrounds who normally didn't get along laughing alongside one another. Mages mingled with the few Templars they had milling about, handing them plates of food as if for just this one day their old grudges were set aside.
The cheerfulness of this holiday was sinking in, and she felt her spirits lift. Corypheus and the chaos were pushed aside from her thoughts, if only for the moment.
She felt someone approaching from behind her. "Enjoying the atmosphere, ma vhenan?" His voice was like cashmere and silk. It made her bite her lip and curl her toes as she glanced over her shoulder to look at him. Solas gave her his half-grin, trailing a finger up her back that sent a shiver up her spine. She let out a sigh, and leaned into him as he wrapped his arms around her from behind.
"I am, indeed. Where have you been hiding?" She asked, glancing up at him in curiosity, "I haven't seen you all day."
He looked down to meet her eyes, "I'll show you later. For now, I suppose we should join the feast. I am actually rather famished." She snorted, letting him pull her to the table. The pair joined the others and food was passed around.
It was hours later when Lavellan was so full she felt she would burst that she was able to pass out her gifts. Cassandra had refused to accept Varric's story until Lavellan threatened to burn it. The warrior woman had snatched it out of her hands, and stormed off, presumably to read it privately.
Varric was extremely grateful for the new ink pot, and the chance to fluster the moody Seeker.
Cole was pleased with his new hat, and Blackwall had thanked her gruffly for his wooden horse.
Sera had swatted the cupcakes away, saying she couldn't even look at anymore food, let alone eat it. She did manage to thank Lavellan before wandering off to pass out in some forgotten corner to sleep off her ale.
Iron Bull's reaction to the dragon bone necklace was more heartfelt and sweet than she expected. He had hugged her, thanking her for her thoughtfulness. Dorian, naturally, took the opportunity to tease him, and it took her busting out the Tevinter wine to distract them from arguing.
Cullen got more of a promise than an actual gift as Dagna and the blacksmith were still working on his sword hilt. He smiled at her, waving away her apologies at the wait. He expressed his gratitude at the fact that she even bothered.
Leliana practically cooed over her slippers and Josephine had shed some tears over the mask.
Vivienne glanced at the book dubiously, unsure how to respond. She finally settled on a "thank you, my dear," the barest hint of a smile on her lips.
All the gift giving left her with a sense of peace. Her team had become her closest friends over the time they had spent together, and to see them laughing and getting along made her heart swell. They were not her clan, perhaps, but they were her family all the same.
"Come on, sweetie, it's your turn to be lavished with gifts," Dorian said, breaking her from her thoughts. He pulled her to join them by the fire.
Drinks and gifts were passed around, stories were shared, and it was very late by the time Lavellan was able to return to her room.
...
She had hung the gown up in her wardrobe with loving care. It was special to her now. Even if she never found another occasion to wear it, she knew it and her memory of this day would be with her for the rest of her life. Today had been both exhausting and enchanting. The gifts she had received from her friends and advisors had made her feel special. Each one had been chosen in careful consideration.
Lavellan sighed, pulling a robe over her nightgown before walking out on her balcony. As she lost herself in thought, she heard a knock at her door. Curious, she called out.
"Come in."
The door creaked open, and Solas made his quiet way in, shutting the door softly behind him. She smiled, walking back inside to greet him. She wrapped her arms around him, her hands sliding up his back as she breathed in his scent. He smelled of the trees, and the rain. However, underneath that, something else tingled at her nose.
She let go, quirking a brow at him. "Why do you smell of paint?" she asked.
Solas smiled, and it was then that she noticed he had something rolled up in his hand.
"I brought you something," he said, handing her the rolled parchment, "I am not the sort to celebrate this holiday...given its origin...but somehow I found myself admiring the comradery it brought out in people. I also...wanted to give you a gift."
Lavellan leaned up on her tiptoes, kissing him softly on the lips. He lifted a hand to lie gently on her cheek, deepening the kiss briefly before pulling away. Lavellan let a smile play about her lips as she unrolled the parchment carefully.
A sketch of her face met her eyes. At least she thought it was her. The woman in the sketch was much more beautiful than Lavellan. It was like Solas had captured all her good qualities and she gasped in appreciation. She glanced up at him, and he gave her an endearing smile that made her heart speed up a beat.
"Solas...this is..." She trailed off, unable to find the words to express her gratitude. He lifted his hand and trailed fingers delicately through her hair.
She swallowed, feeling tears prickle at the corners of her eyes, "Ma serannas, vhenan. This is stunning."
He leaned down, and kissed the top of her head. "It is how I see you, emm'asha, you are so beautiful," he replied, giving her another half-smile that set her heart fluttering, "I would have painted it as well, but my brush had broken while I had been adding to the wall in my room. A pity..."
It was with that thought that she remembered the paintbrush she had set aside earlier that day.
"Oh! I have a gift for you then!" she exclaimed, rushing over to her bed. She snatched it, making her way over to him, and brandishing the paintbrush in triumph. Solas laughed.
"Perhaps you are the herald of perfect timing," he joked. She giggled at the thought. He took the rolled parchment and set it off to the side along with his paintbrush. Grabbing her hand, he tugged her toward the bed.
"Come, vhenan, dream with me. There's is still much to show you." he whispered.
She followed, tenderness swelling inside her, as they crawled into bed. She rolled on her side, and he tucked himself beside her, his arm curling around her waist making her feel loved and secure.
"Happy Satinalia, Solas," she breathed. The cocoon of warmth enveloped her, and her eyes grew heavy. As she began to drift off, she felt a gentle kiss flutter across her neck.
"Goodnight, emma lath."
...
There ya have it. Hope you like it. I apologize for it not being my best work. Also, HUGE shoutout/thank you to Rachel for beta-ing for me. Thank you dear!