Hands down, my favorite verbal exchanges between Lavellan and Solas:

Lavellan- "You say that, but you're the one who started with tongue."

Solas- "I did no such thing!"

Lavellan- "Oh? Does it not count if it's only Fade tongue?"

And:

Lavellan- "Admit it, you're just being grim and fatalistic in the hopes of getting me into bed."

Solas- "I am grim and fatalistic. Getting you into bed is just an enjoyable side benefit."

As a fangirl, I am not ashamed to admit that of all the romance options in Dragon Age: Inquisition, Solas is probably my favorite. But it's that kind of favorite where I love him- EVERYTHING about him, from personality to voice to looks- and simultaneously want to strangle him. Okay, maybe not him, the writers. I don't know why Bioware insists on throwing at least one romance in each game that utterly enthralls me, then proceeds to rip my heart out of my chest and stomp on it until it's just tiny little heart-shards ingrained in the carpet. (I'm looking at you, DA2's Anders and ME2/3's Thane Krios. Also ME2's Jacob. Bastard.) It's like Solas was tailor-made to lure me into pain. (At least The Iron Bull offers the kinky, good kind of pain, you elven tempter!) *sighs* Anyway, this fic is what I picture going down a few hours or a day after the full-on commitment bit with Solas on the balcony in the Inquisitor's quarters. They may not have given me any saucy love scenes beyond a few solidly-appealing makeouts, but the inferred intimacy is enough to make this venting fic happen.

Warnings: Passionate lovemaking. Between elves. There, now you know there's smut ahead, so you can't say I didn't warn you about it.

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Age. I still just enjoy venting my naughty headcanon thoughts through fanfiction. Non-profit fanfiction.

Note: I may do more with these two. Maybe. So yeah.

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I've become attuned to her presence, Solas thought as Isariel padded softly into the room. It was as though she were a focal point around which his energy had begun to swirl. He felt her at his back, lithe hands brushing fondly across his shoulders. Warmth spread from the point of contact, magic tingling between them. Frightening, this familiarity, the ease with which he could lose himself to her. All his plans, his hopes for the future, his very dreams seemed to pale in significance to her gentle smile.

She twined herself around him, arms slinking around his waist, palms flat against his chest as she laid her cheek between his shoulderblades. Lavellan inhaled slowly, closing her eyes as she sighed into his back. "I could spend a lifetime with you and it still wouldn't be enough," she murmured.

"I understand the sentiment." He did not look up from his books, but he was no longer reading. The words slipped out of focus with each subtle rise and fall of her breast against him.

Isariel's eyes opened halfway, contemplation flickering in their bright green depths. She hesitated, uncertain what reaction she might receive. The risk, she decided, was worth it. Her touch roamed, idly trailing the length of his body...

He inhaled sharply as her hand slipped beneath his tunic to cup him through his breeches. He abandoned the books entirely, eyes closing as she began kneading softly. Logic dictated that he should retreat. Her lips found his neck, gliding feather-light across his skin, and he acknowledged that logic and Isariel Lavellan had little in common where he was concerned. He gave one fleeting protest, "We shouldn't..."

"Like our first kiss?" A moment that would remain with him forever. Her boldness in pulling him to her, the needful pressure as her lips had molded to his, his own impulsive response, taking hold of her before she could twist away, pulling her into his arms, unable to get enough, for one brief, dizzying moment thinking that he might never let her go, cursing himself for coming to his senses when he did release her seconds later.

"Do you have any notion of what you do to me?" he whispered.

"It can't be worse than what you do to me," she countered. "Please, Solas... I need you..."

There could be no denying her now. He had made his choice with their second embrace on her balcony. However dangerous this bond might be, they needed each other. He twisted in her arms, capturing her mouth, sweetly at first, then devouring. He drew back before she could trap him there, inclining his head to nuzzle her cheek. "Not here," he said quietly. "Too many prying eyes." She nodded, allowing him to take her hand and lead her towards the door.

They moved in silence through the hall, neither saying a word as they made their way to the Inquisitor's quarters. Not until the door was safely locked behind them did either lift their eyes. Away from witnesses, his demeanor shifted. Solas took both her hands in his, lacing their fingers together as his mouth covered hers once more, lips parting, spirit flowing between them. Isariel shifted, inhaling sharply as his tongue flicked across hers, his teeth sought to capture her lip, his lips closed on hers. It was almost playful, the way he teased her, but the dark glimmer in his eyes was anything but.

"Solas..."

So pure, no pretense, simply raw desire in her voice, her gaze, the heat of her body against his. So dangerous...

He walked backwards up the steps, his eyes locked with her own, his hold on her hands gentle, guiding. Had she ever touched a lover before him? Somehow, he doubted it. She had told him once that she always felt alone among her own people. The Keeper had trained her well, wanted the young woman to take her place, but she could never be entirely one with her clan. She would always be apart, separated from them by her interpretations of their myths, the intricacies of a history they had largely fictionalized.

I've always had an affinity for wolves, she told him as they sat studying one another, side by side at a campfire in the Hinterlands.

Why? Solas could not have said why he felt the need to be near her that night. Their legs, their arms nearly touching. Perhaps it was the chill in the air. Or perhaps even then, he knew he was beginning to love her.

Lavellan smiled, a trace of sorrow in the curve of it. When I was very young, perhaps five or six, I wandered away from our camp and into the forest. I came upon a wounded wolf, his fur as black as night, his eyes like two burning embers. He was so big, but I wasn't afraid at all. He reminded me of the idol of Fen'Harel we kept at the edge of our camp to ward off evil. I said something to him, I can't remember what, exactly- something like, "Don't be afraid." I held out my hand and edged towards him, slowly, talking to him as I tried to get closer.

That was foolish. An injured wolf would be likely to lash out.

Isariel shook her head. I can't say why I knew he wouldn't hurt me, but I did. He let me get close enough to touch him, and I let him sniff my hand. He whined plaintively, smelling me, and then he licked my hand, trying to wag his tail. I sat there petting that wolf for a long while, looking him over to find the source of his injury. It was his leg. He must have been chasing something and he stepped into a trap. He had freed himself, but the trap had bitten deep, and his paw was barely recognizable as a paw for all the matted blood. I shushed him, stroking his face, and I placed both hands over his wound.

You tried to heal him? But you were so young.

I was, and healing spells have never been my strong suit. But I wanted so badly to help that wolf. He was important, I told myself, a protector, just like Fen'Harel. Her expression was wistful. The other children insisted that the Dread Wolf was a monster, that he'd betrayed the gods, but I never believed them. I would look at the statue on the edge of our camp and I would feel safe, knowing that he was keeping watch. He was a soldier, I told them, watching over all elves. They... thought I was crazy.

Unthinking, Solas drew closer to her. Did you heal the wolf?

Her eyes misted. I was about to. I could feel the light welling up in my hands, the warmth... One of our hunters found me kneeling there beside the wolf. He growled at her- she had come upon us so quietly, I was certain she'd just startled him, but she assumed he was going to attack me. She loosed an arrow, catching him in the breast just as he raised up to growl again. I screamed at her the entire way home. She had to physically tear me away from that wolf and carry me over her shoulder. I cried for hours. When the Keeper finally got me calm enough to tell her what had happened, she told me I was lucky, that the wolf might have killed me, but I...

You knew he wouldn't have.

Yes. I think... I think that was when the clan started treating me differently. To be honest, I think I frightened them a little. She sighed, wrapping her arms around her knees, curling into herself. I hated them because of what happened to that wolf. They pretend to have this connection to nature, to the Beyond, to magic... but, really, they're as scared as shemlen when it comes to using the gifts in our blood. So long as it's safe and comfortable, it's beneficial, but the moment it becomes unfamiliar, different, it's dangerous, terrifying.

Isariel lifted her left hand, studying the Mark. It shimmered on her skin, in it, around it. She clenched and unclenched her fist, watching the magic pulsing there. I trust you, Solas. He was taken aback by the statement, the genuine conviction behind it, the honesty she offered freely as she turned her head to smile at him. For the first time in my life, I've found someone who understands that the unknown doesn't have to be so frightening. That it can be like making a new friend or uncovering a useful secret or... I don't know, like finding a piece of the past my people have lost. I... I'm glad we've become friends.

Solas was quiet for a moment, gazing at her in a sort of wonder. As am I, da'len...

Friends. And so much more than that. A bond he could never have anticipated in all his calculations. A twist of fate, a ploy of his Creator, a gift. All of these things at once or none of them. They reached the bed. I will hurt you, he willed her to understand, unwilling to say the words, selfishly wanting this connection in spite of the cruelty it would inflict later. I can never make you happy. But I... Forgive me. Forgive me, ma Vhenan, for taking everything that you offer...

She was so pale, lying naked before him on the satin sheets. Her hair, soft as his fingers traced through its short, unkempt locks, the barely-there gold of dawn light. The vallaslin, delicately etched across her forehead in a tracery of branches in sky blue. The almost-black shadow lined across her eyelids, the dark stain coloring her lips, shadows on a field of snow. Her eyes, springtime in winter. So beautiful... He bent to her, his lips finding hers once again in a sweetly possessive kiss. His hands spread magic in her veins wherever they touched, his fingers dipping to meet the contours of her form, flexing instinctively as her own arms wound around him, her hands beginning to do the same to him. The spark of her touch spread through his body, sounds of pleasure between them stolen by their lips before they could escape.

Her leg slipped around his thigh, her skin sending tiny shockwaves along his own as she pulled him down, closer. He was between her thighs, hard against her but not yet inside, her hips rising to meet him, a silent plea. What was it he told her? It has been a long time. It had. Years since he allowed himself to get this close to anyone. Her mound brushed his length and he groaned softly. Unable to hold back, he entered her at last.

Lavellan gasped, a hand trailing up along his shoulder to stroke at the base of his skull as he dipped his head to kiss her neck. His hips snapped forward and she coiled tight around him, both legs holding him to her now, her free hand rising to touch his face. Without thinking, she murmured, "By the Dread Wolf..."

Solas nearly laughed. If she only knew... He bit her flesh, gently at first, then trailed love-bites down to her chest. "Is it everything you hoped it would be, Isariel?"

She nodded against the top of his head, her body arching as he filled her, withdrew, stroked deep inside again. "Yes..." The Inquisitor moaned, his pace, the tenderness of his attentions bringing her nearly to tears. She had ached for this since their first kiss. It was better than she imagined, the strength in his wiry muscles, the magic infusing their lovemaking. She cried out as he hilted inside her. Her thumb traced encouraging circles along his scalp. "What about... you?"

His tongue flicked across her throat, followed by his lips. "I... Nh..." Her sex contracted around him, pushing him ever nearer to the edge. "Better... It is... better than I imagined." He felt her laugh before he heard the giggle work its way free. "What is so amusing about that?"

"I was thinking the exact same thing."

He joined her in her laughter, but the mirth faded to endearments rather quickly. Their bodies practically hummed with energy, each thrust igniting wildfire in her, every matched shift of her hips rising to meet his stirring lightning inside him.

At last, it was too much. Isariel came with a sharp cry, embracing him tightly as the climax overtook her. Solas kept the momentum going for a few more moments, but her release brought him to completion quickly enough.

He rolled onto his back, panting, his eyes closed serenely as the pleasure ebbed. His lover nestled into his side, laying a hand across his heart to feel his pulse as it steadied. He glanced at her, tilting his head to appreciate the flush on her cheeks, the rosiness of her parted lips.

"Solas?"

"Hm?" he replied, brushing his thumb across her lower lip, leaning in to trace the same path with is lips.

"I hope you aren't going to make me work that hard to get you into this bed every time." She sighed contentedly as he stole another kiss, a languid one this time. "Don't get me wrong, it was worth it, you playing hard to get, but I don't think I can stand it if I have to go another four months flirting with you just to get you into bed one time."

"What would you do if I did make it that difficult a second time?" he teased, smirking.

"I would probably ask Bull to teach me how to tie a very secure knot. Or borrow some manacles from the dungeons."

"Hmm... The image presents possibilities." The Dalish mage's eyebrows arched. Solas continued, taking the opportunity between every other word to steal another kiss, "A game of submission can be enjoyable, provided the couple involved shares complete trust." He could tell she was trying to picture him engaging in such bedroom antics. Judging from the deep red blooming anew along her already-flushed skin, she liked the thought. He chuckled, nuzzling her cheek affectionately. "But no, my heart, I do not believe I will 'play hard to get' again. You act as though it was easy for me to resist you."

"Your composure was impressive."

"Ah," the apostate lifted a finger, "but it was nearly impossible to maintain that composure. You've no idea how attractive you are when you give that enigmatic, come-hither smile."

"So all I have to do is give you a come-hither smile and you'll happily jump into bed with me again?"

"It would seem so." He laughed as she batted her eyelashes and smiled coyly. Solas rolled on top of her, capturing her lips all over again.

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If you enjoyed the fanfictional... er, fanfic that is the aboveness, feel free to R&R, lovelies!