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Castles, lusted after with the visions of grandeur, legends of Kings, whispers and sex within the court. Valiant knights and battles, true love kisses around hidden corners, secret passages with rooms dappled with magic.
Thoughts. Dreams. Realizations.
But for all those thoughts of fantasy most forget the reality until faced with it. A structure consisting of multiple rooms and passages, built with stone heavy and cool. Cold. The chill that settled deep within the bones of the towering edifice. Even, swelling, chatty fires, licking their way up a chimney, hot fingers beckoning with the temptation. Almost flirting. Unable to completely lift the wintry nip. This was particularly true for stone fortresses atop a mountain. In the common tongue, Skyhold.
Chilling. Taunting. Cruel.
For Tala, the bite of cold stone floors was enough to force even the most stoic of Dalish to consider a pair of wool lined shemlen shoes offered by a smiling antivian women. Kissed by the sun and a voice beguiling to even the most twisted Orlesian noble. It was because of such factors that Tala now found herself, feet warmed by the shoes Josephine had ever so...politely..handed her from across the war table that morning. The white wool lining, a strong contrast the honeyed color of her body. That morning during war council, slipping into the boots, with a smile speaking of uncertainty and appreciation, Leliana's tone cosseted her sharp hearing. It seemed as if the contrast of white and her skin appealed in some manner to the spymaster and a new outfit uniform for her to don in Skyhold might become a thing of the near future.
Speculative. Aware. Satisfactory.
It was nothing so different from important clothing of her clan that Tala had to question the shemlen women. Visiting keepers from various clans resulted in special piercings, clothing and even food. Presentation was everything across all races it seemed, if the stories of Iron Bull and Varric were to be held inside a cup of truth.
Truth. Stories. Relief.
Despite the troubles with Corypheus, so far they had been able to trust the coming and going of the sun and his sister the moon. Tala had never been a fan of the gaping hole in the wall of the hall leading to the war room. With the jabbering of the fire in the room, and the windows covered in drapery of a midnight blue her advisers pushed and prodded along with tasks and map markers, achieving much. But the ache of her neck and the dryness of her eyes prompted Tala to peek out into the hall. The hall was now silver, bathed with the light of a quarter moon. It was way past supper time, and when that thought crossed her mind Tala heard the audible berate of her stomach before she felt it. Tossing a sheepish glance back at the three humans in the room.
"I take it that we are done for the day?" Josephine smiled, the movement twitching her lips upwards, long fingers, darkened by the stain of ink, laying her quill down across parchment decorated and named with curling scrawl.
"Most certainly" Leliana regarded the ambassador with a cordial nod. "it seems as if our Inquisitor has reached her limits for the evening. We are certainly able to convene."
"Good evening Lady Inquisitor" A man, golden as the sun, golden as the halla sent to her people in the darkest of times. Cullen smiled at her, friendly and approving. Large hands settled together on the pommel of his sword, a protective man.
Warmth.
Tala looked between the three, turning on the heel of her new boots and gave a short bob of her head "Mahvir." With limbs long for one of her size, Tala slipped from the hall, feet making soft pats against the stone with the hard soles of her new shoes. Skirting rubble dropped around the hall, the first door, the second door and into the hall. The great hall sending gooseflesh along her skin, breasts perking in protest. Always a strange action she deemed, why would they raise when it made more sense to draw in. It had to have been two hours after supper, coupled with the chill of the evening most of the gossiping dignitaries had disappeared to their own private quarters. A feeling of relief relax the muscles through her neck and shoulders.
Sliding a tongue over lips cracked by the chill of the air.
Chill. Growing. Invading.
Colder than the average night at Skyhold atop a mountain. It meant that another storm would be creeping its way over rocky slopes to sink its claws into the hold. "Good evening Varric" she cast a smile at the surface dwarf, ever present at a long table stationed ever so precisely in front of a fireplace. Smart dwarf.
"Inquisitor. Late of you to be out."
"Ever ending paperwork as you know it." Tala turned from her direct path towards her room to move towards the free marcher.
"That is why I am never the hero, just one of the side characters" backlit by the fire, the dwarf, with heavy fingers, delicate in his hold of the pen. His parchment held a highly different type of scrawl than that of Josephine's and Tala would swear his papers would carry much more interesting content. Lithe body dropping into a chair opposite Varric, and propping her chin atop small hands she allowed her own smile to tug her mouth upwards.
"Are you working on something that Cassandra is going to be begging for once again?" a tilt of the head coupled with mirth brightening her eyes she was met with only the warning shake of an author's head. Varric was not one to spill secrets, a way to keep his publisher happy. Crossing her legs, foot bouncing she smiled, a silent begging for at least some tidbits of secrets.
"Not even for you Inquisitor. Could you imagine the Seekers rage if she were to find out that I let you in on my secrets when just this morning I told her that she would have to wait." he folded his hands over his work, an amused smirk. Friendly and comforting. That was her friend Varric. In his own way. The embodiment of Warmth.
Knowledge. Power. Amusement.
"Oh come on." dropping abaft the chair back, moue pushing out her full bottom lip Tala crossed her arms in mock offense. Grey eyes, shining with challenge so bright if one were to state that they were silver, another would be hard pressed to argue. Sensitive elven ears picked up the crackle of flame, the sound of footsteps, murmured discussion and the familiar pop. Someone had just entered her chambers. By the sounds of multiple pairs, that meant servants, servants meant hot water, a full bath and a tray...or two, of food. Out of habit, her front teeth began to worry her bottom lip, pink in natural color, she was not one for everyday lip staining.
Natural. Her. His preference.
Now she had to decide how worth the challenge she had taken up was. One hand, slipping from the confines of arms crossed firmly over her breasts, calloused fingertips found the sloping bridge of her nose only to move out. Tracing, ridges in her mind. Her vallasin, colored in that of fertile fields, awash with Cypripedium Tibeticum Orchids. Apart of her. So ingrained she knew their dance across her skin as if she were slipping her hands down the familiar curve of her breasts, flat belly, ever so dainty pronounced hips and thighs with soap and cloth on wash day. Her mind wandered as she traced the markings path, fingertips cold despite the fire so close, belly clenching mildly with persistent hunger. The challenge wasn't all that worth it. "I guess I will leave you to it then Master Tethras" she drawled lightly, eyes focusing sharply on the male. Placing hands against the carved table she pushed herself to her feet once more. A bath and hot meal were much more important than that of a petty stare down.
"Of course Inquisitor. Ill let Baldy know that you finally left the war room if he ever retreats from his painting.
"Thanks Varric" she peered over her shoulder, striding towards her chambers. The dwarf chuckled, fingers flicking at one of multiple gold rings on his ear. Focusing her attention forwards, she paused for just a moment, hand outstretched towards the heavy wooden door. Five women exited her chambers, each one dropping into a bow. "Thank you" she nodded, a smile replacing the smirk she had offered Varric. Grasping the sanded door, she slipped into the staircase, pulling it closed behind her. She fought a shiver that trembled over her spine. The click of her soles up the stairs echoed around her, cold slipping over her. She loved that balcony, honest to the creators she did. However, despite the doors that latched, and the heavy curtains that caressed the frames, glacial drafts managed to slide through any cracks in the framework. Three additions to her room since the morning caught her attention, filling her with delight.
Breaching the top of the stairs Tala found herself granted with a heavy wooden tub stationed in the center of her floor, steam curling up in tendrils, stark against the chill. Eyes skipped over the lumps in her bed. Bags of warm coals, laid specifically to warm her mahogany sheets, covered with a deep blue Orlesian bed spread. Third, but definitely not least was the heavy laden food tray, kept warm with silver covers.
It was on nights like these, were through cracks in the curtain she could see snow covering her balcony that she had made a picky request. She tried to request little, but the one thing she wanted, was to have a fire burning in her chambers at all times. It would help keep the inclement at bay. Long fingers folding about the edges of the tray, she debated for the briefest of moments and then stepped back. Making quick work of the boot laces that made their way up her calves, fingers popping open the buttons on her blouse. The food would stay longer than the bath would remain torrid.
Nimble. Habitual. Calming.
To a shemlen, the light fabric hitting the floor as she made herself bare would have made no noise. But to an elf, the hiss of fabric as it released her form and crumbled in a disarray of folds, pooling about her toes, wiggling with cold. Tala tested the water briefly with cautious touches, the last time she had leapt straight in...well the shriek had sent four guards charging into her bedroom, to find a naked and very sopping wet Inquisitor. If that were to happen again, they could just leave her in the fade next time. Facing off another Nightmare would be kinder.
Stifling a groan, the Dalish women was a tune to the water swelling around her limbs as she stepped in, the rush of heat curling up her leg with innocent caress. Gentle strokes and pull, welcoming like the buds bringing new life to the forest as the last dredges of winters sleep faded away.
Relaxing. Needed. Pleasure.
Dropping her head back along the rim of the tub, eyes sliding shut she allowed her mind to center itself, focusing on relaxing specific groups of muscles. It was a practice that she had learned from the Keeper, a great tip in regards to destressing after running from humans threatening the clan. She sank further into the water and allowed the flow of time to become unrecognizable.
Tala was uncertain how much time had passed, with a twitch of her ears she recognized the sound of the door opening, the soft press of naked feet against stone steps. Unshooed feet meant that it could only be one person.
"Aneth ara"
"Aneth ara vennahn" Tala turned her head and smiled as two fingers brushed over her forehead. A greeting from Solas that had become familiar.
"A long day I take it?"
"As always" she sighed finally taking notice of the chill the bath water had taken on. Shivering she motioned for the towel on the desk and got to her feet. Stretching towards the high ceiling, twisting from side to side she allowed an appreciative sound to accompany the cracking of her back. Shaking out her arms, she raked her fingers through her hair, desperate to loosen any beads of water clinging to her strands. For having such short hair, it did take a long time to dry. Something she found to be of the utmost annoyance. "Solas that tow-" words died on her lips as arms, cloaked in blankets pulled her forward. "Fairly large towel" she commented lightly, eyes moving towards the bed. The blue blanket she now found themselves to be wrapped inside was the top layer of her bed. But of the entire situation, this was not what she found the most intriguing. It was the hot dry skin pressed against her own. In her focus on herself Tala had taken no notice of the disrobing of the rooms other occupant. Not that she would argue about it.
"I saw you speaking with a small group of elves in the garden early afternoon" Solas commented, arms tightening around the smaller women's frame, moving her back towards the chittering fire. Crossing his ankles, Solas lowered the pair to the floor, the thick blanket, comfortable and familiar, tucking beneath them, a barrier against the stone.
"Ah yes, " moving, she settled between thighs, toned with physical endurance, pulling her knees beneath her breasts Tala leaned back, the elven male folding his legs about her. It took a brief moment to adjust, Solas's leg hair prickly against her own bare thighs. Not unwelcome, but ever so slightly uncomfortable. "They had questions regarding some of my statements and actions. Many of them had been with us when we were setting camps in the Emerald Graves."
"And?"
"And I informed them. "
"Of"
"The basic ways that I was raised, on how to live my life. " she peered up at him " Vir Assan ("Way of the Arrow") - fly straight and do not waver. "Be swift and silent," Andruil taught. "Strike true; do not waver. And let not your prey suffer. Vir Bor'Assan ("Way of the Bow") - bend but never break. "As the sapling bends, so must you. In yielding, find resilience; in pliancy, find strength. Vir Adahlen ("Way of the Forest" or "Way of the Wood") - together we are stronger than the one. "Receive the gifts of the hunt with mindfulness. Respect the sacrifice of my children. Know that your passing shall nourish them in turn." Tala quoted with textbook accuracy. It was those words, among many, that had been drilled into her mind as a small child, and had gained even higher importance as she took the title of first.
"Ah yes, that is some of the most important ways of the Dalish people are they not?"
"Yes" her reply was firm. It spoke a warning. She was in no mood to defend her people against his opinions tonight. And if he wished to continue vocalizing his opinions he would be left to find comfort in the singularity of the rotunda rather than in her arms and bed. Eyes, silver, liquid locked with his, defiant,
"Just verifying" His response, slow and careful. Most nights, his vehnan was more than up for any argument and lesson. But it seems as if the wear of a long day had whittled away at whatever was left of her patience. He watched as the Dalish women, wrapped in his embrace of long arms and legs peered into the fire. Body lax against his own, mind enraptured by her own thoughts. It was times like these were his internal conflicts seemed petty. He had come to the Inquisition with one sole purpose in mind, and it had nothing to do with falling in love with a woman whose tenacity, hope, fire and soul rivaled that of Mythal herself. Alone at night, with his thoughts as his only companion, he would sink into pools of self pity and disgust. He chastised himself for allowing her to distract him, and in the same breath reavled in his feelings for her. It was conflicting. Hour to hour he could lay alone and reveal in the memories of her touch, and gaze. Leaving him aching. Then another riddled with disgust at allowing himself to be pulled off course. Challenging was a word fitting for the situation. He allowed himself to look her over, in her presence he was consumed by her spirit and beauty, He reminded her of the old elves, whether or not it was her obsession with her past, her listening to his stories, Solas was sure that her soul was an old one. It was that reason the foci had not killed her upon touch.
Touch. Soft. Intoxicating.
Her dark hair, a lovely, though not overly strong contrast to tan skin. Both perfect coupling with the lavender vallaslin on her cheekbones. He had seen much of the Dalish's misunderstood markings, but the color Tala's had hers created in was unique. Like the women they adorned. "Ma vhenan"
"Hm?" she turned her attentions back towards him.
"Ma serannas"
"Whatever for?" she frowned, confusion furrowing her brow.
"For simply being" he pressed his cheek to her hair.
" Solas Venavis!"
"Hm." Solas needed no eyesight to know the embarrassed expression her features would take and the blush that would accompany it. A warmth, akin to that of her skin spread throughout his chest. It was a warmth that he welcomed and was wary of in the same step. He should have stayed away, but he was thrilled he had not. This relationship, these feelings would no doubt result in pain when the inevitable separation would occur, but for now. Now, he wanted to soak up the warmth, just as she had done with the bath. He welcomed the warmth, he adored it, nearly as much as he loved the women that brought it to him.
Notes: Image ©
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