Solas growled fiercely, lowly. His nights had been sleepless, his every thought tormented. Haunted by her.
By Aisla Rem.
Their friendship had been the most natural of occurances. With Solas' wisdom and experience, and Aisla's deep curiosity, intelligence and open mindedness, not to mention her wit and tact.
He had noticed early on how she could mould her personality to the needs of the moment or individual. He tested her intellect and imagination – nothing was incomprehensible, or even taboo to her.
Of course, her striking appearance would be appealing to anyone with taste.
Slender, hourglass figure and a small, defined face with a milk white complexion. Her long, sleek blue-black hair was enticing, mysterious. Her pale pink, plump lips and large, almond shaped sapphire eyes…
He knew he shouldn't have allowed himself to get so close… but he was unable to resist her.
She was his drug. His poison.
Solas felt the familiar strain in his pants. He rubbed his temples, frustrated. He couldn't stop her. She had invaded his every private space. His hand travelled down, grasping onto his manhood…
"Solas… are you alright?"
Solas his the grimace that was about to reach his features as he looked up to his torment, "Just a sleepless night."
"Another one?" Aisla asked, head tilted curiously. "Is there any way I can help?"
Oh. You have no idea.
Solas smiled wearily, "It's nothing to worry about."
He kept eye contact, losing himself as he fell into those sapphire pools, melting away his mental armour.
He hadn't realised he had moved until he was looking directly down at her, mere inches from her. Her dainty eyebrow slightly raised in curiosity.
Before she could react, Solas grabbed onto her rear, pulling her against him as his other hand grasped her ink hair, forcing her lips to his.
He stopped only a second later, stunned by her response.
She had all but melted into him, immediately tracing her tongue gently over his lips, her hands firmly on his shoulders as she raised her thigh, rubbing it gently against his crotch…
Is this real?...
"Why'd you stop?" She asked, head tilted slightly once more, but a slight, unintentional pout graced her lips.
Solas smirked slightly, this time holding onto her hips as he pulled her to him once more.
I won't. Ever again.
Solas looked over anxiously towards Aisla Rem.
He was confused… and not a little hurt.
The raven haired beauty had only spoken to him a little since the rendezvous the day before.
After what he believed to be a passionate evening (and if he was completely honest with himself, one of his favourite experiences insofar), he had awoken in the early morning hours – alone. He was not a little hurt.
Of course, the new day had been filled with travelling and many a battle. But still…
Lying awake in his tent that night, Solas frowned up at the canopy as he heard the Iron Bull make a lecherous comment to Aisla Rem, his frown only deepening as he heard her quiet, sultry chuckle. He was not a little hurt.
Hours, it seemed to him, as he lay awake, wrapped up in his own thoughts, as he heard the tiniest shuffle at his feet.
Bolting upright, hand already on staff, Solas' eyes widened slightly, as he found none other than the reason of his constant insomnia standing over him, sapphire orbs piercing through his very being as he gazed back up to her.
The tiniest of frowns fell upon her face, "I hurt you."
Her voice was quiet, slightly puzzled, guarded and remorseful.
Why did everything about her entice him? Her very tone reminded him that she could she right through him… farther than he wished…
He knew he couldn't dream of telling her… telling her…
"Yes." Was his simple response. It was true.
She nodded pensively, before she knelt down before him. His eyes quickly glanced at her dainty features, his gaze remaining for a moment on those delicious lips. Even through the slight pain in pride she caused, and the complexity of his feelings for her and his situation, he could not help but feel the want for her building…
"I'm sorry, Solas."
Had he ever heard such a beautiful sounding apology?
He watched her features carefully, noting the slight grimace not in her expression, but in her eyes.
"That was never my intention." She had stressed the word 'never'.
Utterly charming…
"I just thought it would be for the best." What? "You see, we are both holding back on something. I know whatever it is that you're hiding – it's very important to you, possibly important for many." What?!
Aisla Rem gave Solas an enigmatic smile before conituing. "Honestly though, how could I expect anything from you when your heart lies elsewhere? That would be selfish." …Selfish? "Besides, I really believed you would also agree that this is the best route." She's right…but…
His thoughts must've shown. At least enough for the sharp, eagle-eyed Aisla Rem to notice.
She chuckled – that same quiet, sultry laugh he had heard hours before, directed to the Iron Bull.
"See? So I hope you can understand my confusion as to why you'd be hurt." She stood in one swift notion, taking aback the elven god.
"Wait!"
Solas surprised himself with his reaction. Along with his demand, he had grabbed her wrist harshly, he knew his grip might be enough to be painful, since when he pulled her back to him, she almost tripped. Something Solas had never seen her do before.
He reddened, embarrassed, only for his colour to deepen as the moments passed and her inquisitive expression morphed into a quizzical, disarming grin…
She's always right… but…
"Ir abelas…" How could she turn him into such a fumbling mess? Seconds of silence turned to minutes as he tried to articulate his thoughts in his mind."
"If you're wondering if I enjoyed our endeavour, I assure you that I relished in every moment of it."
"What?!" Solas quickly shut his mouth, mortified at his own open surprise at her earnest words. His face heated up as he tried but failed to look away from her devilish grin.
She chuckled once more.
And it was in that instant he realised it. That low, sublime chuckle was another of her guarded facades.
Solas marvelled as he knew, yet again, Aisla Rem would be the most complex puzzle in all of Thedas.
Solas also wondered though – what was Aisla Rem like when her guard was down? When she was nothing but her real, pure self?
"Well, seeing as you're struck silent, I suppose I shall leave."
But as Aisla went to move, Solas still held her wrist firmly.
Could she really not see that she has me… bewitched? Can't she see I'm falling for her?
"I am sorry…" He said slowly, testing his wording. "For my… ah… reaction, there…"
But unlike Aisla, it really would be selfish of him to hope for more… how could he ask that, when her sister was Inquisitor, which will inevitably affect his future plans…
Aisla sighed, sitting down cross legged, facing him with a curious gaze. She simply waited, as Solas did not release her wrist from his grasp.
Solas stared back as he tried to find words that would help… somehow.
The tiniest sliver of moonlight shone through the tent, straight across Aisla's face, illuminating her halla-white skin and bringing out the almost silver dots in those pools of blue. The stark contrast between her ink black hair and pale complexion gave her an ethereal appearance.
So beautiful…
"Oh! Um… thank you?"
It was only then that Solas realised he had said his last thought aloud. It was also the first time he had seen Aisla Rem look discomforted – her gaze darting straight from him to an unremarkable spot on the ground.
A shiver ran down his spine, however, as he noticed the tiniest of colour reached her cheeks…
Aisla Rem never blushed.