Asryn felt worn leather grip in her fingers rub against her callouses as she swung both dagger in terrifying tandem in a whirl through a Venatori mage. Since she'd been big enough to grip a knife, Lavellen had been training to fight and hunt and survive. Her hands were small and covered in little scars that all shone just a little when caught in the right light. The pads of her fingers and knuckles were all hardened skin worn rough by the constant use of her weapons.
With a twist of her body, Lavellen leapt, using the crumpling mage as a spring to push herself over and onto a soldier running for Bull's exposed back. With a casual thrust, she stabbed upwards into the back of the Venatori, feeling the sweaty leather grip slide and tear against the palm of her hand. The man fell instantly, ripping her dagger from her grip, Lavellen unable to tug the blade out fast enough. She had to stop, brace her foot against the body and yank at the blade until it gave with a thick, wet sucking noise that had her overbalancing and falling flat on her back. The breast plate thwacked painfully against her back and knocked the air from her lungs. Lavellen lay there stunned, her hands stinging slightly at the gritty leather.
A hand suddenly came into her vision, large fingers gesturing for her to hurry and grab the hand so he could pull her up. She lifted an arm and Bull's fingers encircled her wrist tightly, overlapping themselves on her tiny arm. He yanked her up and thumped her back with a meaty hand.
"You okay there Boss?" Lavellen nodded, still sort of dazed.
"Yeah. Yeah I'm fine Bull. Thank you." Bull nodded and looked about the battlefield. Lavellen and her team had been scouting the Hissing Wastes for some latent Venatori and found a group of them studying the corpse of the dragon Lavellen had killed a few months ago. The fight was a quick one, as the Inquisition's forces had the upper hand in finding just a small guard watching the researchers.
Bull left Lavellen to check the field and make sure all threats had been put down. Left alone to check herself for injuries, the stinging on Lavellen's hands had surged as she gazed around her surroundings.
"Vhenan?" A smile tugged at her lips and Lavellan turned to see Solas walked through the carnage towards her. His careful gaze stole over her, searching for injuries and his gaze halted at her hands, still loosely gripping her daggers. Once he reached her, Solas caught her wrist in his delicate fingers and lifted it up so he could see it closer. Blood was welling from where she held the grip of her dagger and Solas frowned. As the Inquisitor's forces swept the field Solas took her daggers and handed them to a passing scout. Lavellen winced as she had to uncurl her fingers from their death grip. Opening her battle scared hands Lavellen let out a breath seeing the blood seep from gashes that had opened both palms. The gritty feeling between her fingers had her realising the rubbing of sand, sweat and force had torn the skin open.
There was nothing much Solas could do to heal his beloved on the battlefield, so her gently doused the cuts with water from his canteen and made her sit behind him as he rode her Hart back to camp. Once ensconced in their tent Solas' careful clean hands helped Asryn undo all the clasps that held her armor together until she sat on their bed rolls in her loose shirt and breeches. Her heart mate retrieved his pack from the corner and sat down opposite her, pulling out his small healing kit with those long, slender fingers.
Those delicate pale hands were smooth against her warm skin as Solas started to tend to her wounds. Slowly and gently cleansing the cuts and making sure no dirt was left under the skin before he used his magic to close them. She couldn't help but sigh against the soft skin of those hands, always gentle and caressing when needed, and firm but still soft when she begged. Lavellen, craving his touch turned around and lent her back against Solas' chest as he held her hands cupped in his healing ones. He cradled her so tenderly Lavellen might have wondered if he thought she was made of glass. The tingling of healing magic had her squirming and twitching. Healing magic always made her twitchy.
Solas hissed as his elven beauty ground her bottom between his legs again. He knew she was only reacting to the healing but he couldn't stop that hardness that grew feeling her leaning back against him. That friction. Like the friction of her callouses against his lower half. That rough and soft touch moving up and down on him. Her fingers creating a delicious friction as they moved up and down on him, or when they traced the line of of his pointed ears. He wanted her to feel the very same friction. Solas bent his head into the crook of Lavellen's neck and placed a slow kiss. His heart immediately stopped moving and leaned her neck away, her raven's mane falling to the side, exposing more of the creamy skin for him. Solas continued his loving kisses, until he had finished his healing. With careful movements, he gently untied the lacing of Lavellen's breeches and pulled them away from her hips, leaving him a clear view of- Solas cursed, his lower half now prodding Lavellen harder than ever. No underwear. She knew it was torture for him to know she was walking around with nothing on under all that armour. With a steady hand, Solas cupped one of Lavellen's in his and guided it down to her breeches, moving until he could feel the growing wetness between her folds. Then, using her hand, he started to pleasure her until she writhed under the same friction she so teased him with.