Solas prepares a gift for Miriel and enlists the advice from some of her friends. SFW
Presents
The plan had been made. Commander Cullen and Hawke were leading the army out to the desert where Miriel was already stationed with Blackwall, Dorian, Cassandra, and Cole. They were keeping a level presence in the area to make sure the Venatori couldn't get a stable footing. Hawke would lead the forward scouts in a mad rush to help fortify Miriel's team, while the Commander remained with the bulk of the army including the Trebuchets.
Solas waited outside of the War Room, wanting to catch Hawke before she retired to her quarters. He sat on the small bench recently placed in the hallway, the latest edition of Hard in Hightown resting in his lap. He turned the page, almost done the book when the War Room door finally opened. Cassandra and Leliana were the first out the door, both holding papers. Leliana had a sense of urgency about her that had her power walking through the hallway and to her roost. Cassandra always walked with purpose and today was no different as she strode past him. They did not appear to notice him, and if they did, they paid him no attention. Cullen and Josephine were in deep conversation about the transportation of the trebuchets that were on loan from their allies, and they definitely did not notice Solas sitting quietly. Hawke was the last to exit, looking exhausted and rattled.
Solas always found himself strangely fascinated by Hawke. Here was a woman who had stood against the chaos around her in a city that had spurned her time and time again. Here was a woman who fought for her people with reason and stability, even as the world fell around her. She was a lone stone column in a burning forest, and he admired her for it. Solas also understood the tiredness and inevitable hopelessness that seemed to cling to her. She had stopped fighting the exhaustion, but he was gladdened to see that she continued to try to stave off the hopelessness.
Her red hair was a frizzy mess creating a copper halo around her head. She absently scratched at her head, tired blue eyes closing as she yawned. Solas marked his current page and stood, approaching the human woman.
"Oh, hello Scowly, is there something you need?" She asked, almost automatically. Solas almost regretted that he required her assistance.
"Not need, no, but I do wish your assistance with something." He said earning him a quirked brow.
"That is interesting, I did not peg you for needing anything from anyone…well, maybe a specific somethin' from a certain someone." She winked at him and he gave a small laugh. She wasn't wrong.
"Typically this is true, but I find myself in a unique situation and assistance would be welcome." Hawke nodded.
"Alright, what is it? Sex tips? If so, just ask her, from my experience, women love it when the man just asks what they want. And man, when you give to us how we ask it to be done-
"That is not what I am referring to." He stopped her, and she shrugged.
"Then what is it?"
"I wish to give Miriel a gift, but I am not quite sure what." He was normally not one for gifts, he preferred to convey his affection in a less materialistic manner. The idea of a gift had come one night when he was in her bed, looking at her room and seeing her things and a few of his things, but nothing…connected. She had her things, he had his things, but they did not have things together or things they had gotten one another. Her words about the importance of gifts, about how they signified affection and intention in her clan. Receiving gifts was not important to him, but to her…he wanted her to know how much he wanted her. Every part of him wanted so badly to be with her, and while it may come to pass that he could not be with her, he still wanted, needed, her to know that he did want her and this relationship…whatever this relationship was.
And so Solas decided to get his vhenan a gift. Now came the difficult part: what he was going to get her.
Solas did not like seeking assistance with such things, but he truly did not know what to get a modern Dalish woman of her caliber. In the times of Arlathan he would have given her jewels or robes to court her, tomes of magic and magical items to show the seriousness of his intent, but now…now there were no jewels to give, and she was not a mage. He was out of his depth.
"I was not expecting that, to be honest. With all the seriousness going on with assaulting the Grey Wardens, for you to come up to me and ask for help regarding what to get your lover out of the blue is just kind of…"
"Inappropriate. Yes, I realize that now. Forgive my transgression." It was a foolish idea in such a time, he should not –
"Awesome. Totally awesome. Yes, let's do this." Hawke surprised him with her eagerness.
"Are you certain?" He asked wanting to be sure, she snorted in an unflattering manner.
"Fuck yeah. The world is going to shit, it's nice to see a bit of love before the end. What were you initially thinking of getting her?" Hawke asked as they turned back down the hallway, heading away from the War Room.
"Perhaps a book or a bow? She enjoys both greatly." He supposed but Hawke frowned as she scratched her head.
"The bow is a no go, Fenris got me a staff once for my birthday, an awful Ironwood make that did not meld well with my magic. The person who wields the weapon should be the one to pick it out, especially if that person is a master, and that is what Miri is with a bow." Solas nodded.
"The book then?"
"Solas, what do you want this gift to say?"
"I wish to convey my affection for her."
"And does a book say that?" Hawke asked and Solas's brow furrowed. He would love to receive a book…but perhaps it was not what Miriel would want.
"This is why I sought you out. You and Miriel appear to share a bond, and I was hoping you would have a better idea about what to give her."
"You two also have a special bond, but I see your point. Let's see…who does she spend her time with when she isn't with you?" Hawke asked as they entered the Great Hall.
"She speaks at length with her advisors about all things-
"Socially, Solas. Who is her best friend when I'm not here?"
"The Iron Bull and Dorian are typically the people she seeks out most frequently, but Dorian is with her in the desert at present."
"But Bull isn't in the desert right now, correct?" Hawke said and Solas nodded but skeptical, what will the large Qunari know about getting a gift for the elven woman?
"He spends most of time in the Tavern when not training." They then made their way outside and to the tavern, determined to find the perfect gift idea for Miriel.
They entered the tavern, the crowd currently subdued and mostly just engaging in private conversations. It was only midafternoon so the drinking wasn't going to start until the majority of the soldiers were let off from their duties. In the corner was Bull, reading a report with the Chargers around him. Of course the man might actually be busy coordinating with his Chargers who would definitely be involved in the assault on Adamant. While Solas realized this, Hawke either didn't or simply did not care. She strode through the Tavern, hair bouncing as she walked up to the Qunari calmly. Bull saw her out of the corner of his eye and turned to her, appraising her. Next to him, Krem rolled his eyes as Bull turned to fully face the Champion of Kirkwall.
"Hey, Horny, I got a preposition for you," Hawke said playfully and Bull laughed as he leaned back, smiling.
"I knew it was only a matter of time before you came for me, that elf boy of yours can only do so much," Bull played back and Hawke laughed.
"Alright, big guy, in all actuality a different elf boy needs our help." At this Hawke nodded back to Solas who scowled.
"No shit! What do you need? Sex tips?" Bull asked loudly, causing a brief awkward silence to fall over the tavern. Solas walked silently to the table and exhaled, exasperated, why does everyone think I need help with sex?
"I wish to give the Inquisitor a gift, and was wondering if Hawke had any ideas or if she knew what the Inquisitor would like." Solas said reluctantly. He did not like asking for help, particularly from the Qunari.
"I then suggested asking one of her friends here, Miri and I have only had a few conversations." Hawke supplemented, earning a nod from Bull.
"Makes sense, you two have been together for a while now. But I think Dalish here would be better at a gift giving idea, being Dalish and all." The small blonde elf sitting next to Bull suddenly looked up startled at being mentioned. She was clearly a mage, but did not bear the marks of a Keeper's First or Second…or even Third.
"What?" She said, her accent heavy and rather odd, even for a Dalish elf. The woman's voice didn't seem to faze Hawke though, who pulled a stool up next to the woman and began talking to her.
"What's a good gift for a Dalish woman from her lover?" The elven woman's eyes widened and she drew back a little.
"Gifts in my clan could be seen as proposals if they were romantic enough." Solas wanted to throw his hands up in frustration, this is what I get for trying to do something nice for the woman I love.
"A dance, gifts, what isn't seen as a proposal with the Dalish?" He asked. Dalish's eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
"A dance as a proposal, I have never heard of such a thing." Solas could groan at this point. The Dalish clans were so different from one another that this girl probably could offer no more insight than Hawke or Bull. That's when Cole appeared. The edges of Solas's mouth turned up at seeing the peculiar spirit.
"Hello, Cole," Solas said and the spirit shook slightly as he closed his eyes and recounted how Miriel felt.
"Lost, alone, no one like me here, no connection. Alone. Miriel misses her clan, you should help with that," he said and Solas nodded.
"Something Dalish then? I am afraid I am not the most…familiar with Dalish trinkets," Solas responded and Cole shook his head.
"No trinket, practical, purposeful, strong, suledin." Solas nodded at Cole's words. The Inquisitor would prefer something more practical than frivolous of course.
"So the Inquisitor wants something that reminds her of her clan?" Bull asked and everyone in the room nodded.
"What about Dalish armor? We just got that kid from the Exalted Plains who was a craftsman apprentice or whatever they're called. He probably knows how to design Dalish armor and then he can work with Harrit on making it before we head out to Adamant." It was a brilliant idea. It was practical, Dalish, and something she would use every day and hopefully think of him.
They found the Dalish boy and brought him to Harrit, inquiring if the armor could be made in time. Harrit assured them that he could do it for the Inquisitor, particularly because he was fond of the woman and he had been dying to try his hand at making authentic Dalish style armor. After consulting with Harrit about the colors and what they wanted the armor to do, Hawke, Bull, and Solas went their separate ways.
The armor was ready in six days, which was the amount of time it took to ready the army and trebuchets for the march to Adamant. Harrit presented Solas with the gift, packing it for him and telling Solas that he loved doing this piece.
It was twenty days of marching before they reached the outpost where Miriel was already stationed with her small strike team. It had been a hard march that had leached a great deal of energy out of the soldiers, but they were out here and would be marching on Adamant soon enough.
The entire camp had a serious tone to it, but that didn't seem to stop the soldiers from drinking and telling each other tales of the Inquisitor's heroism. As Solas walked through the camp looking for Miriel's tent, he heard tall tale after tall tale about how Andraste herself had instilled in Miriel the holy light of the Maker to purge the demons and Corypheus from this world. They were good stories, though untrue. He wondered how she would be remembered in the future, after her battles had been immortalized into songs and stories that transformed from truth to legend. He wondered if history would remember her as a savior or as a defender and champion of the unheard and oppressed. He wondered if history would care to know that she was actually rather humorous and terribly compassionate to all. However history wanted to treat her, Solas would ensure it was well.
He finally found her tent, or rather her, since she was sitting outside of her tent with a large pile of newly fletched arrows next to her. She was running her sharpening tool against the points of her newly made arrows, readying for the battles to come. Her movements were quick and precise, well-practiced to the point where she probably didn't have to think about the task too closely. He loved watching her like this, with her entire body so encompassed in one singular activity, her body moving expertly through any motion she performed. Her face was slightly scrunched in thought, her rounded nose would occasionally twitch as her fingers moved. The firelight was always kind to her, making her glow in deep golden hues. She's so beautiful.
Solas strode forward oddly nervous as he held the box containing her armor. He saw her ear twitch slightly before she stopped her movements and looked up. When she saw him illuminated by the campfire, her face brightened and a broad smile spread across her face. She set her tools down and leapt up. She bounced over to him where she lifted her arms as if to hug him before noticing the large rectangular box he was holding.
"Solas! What do you have there?" She asked and he grinned mischievously as he sauntered to the fire with the box. He felt her curiosity peak as she stayed close to him, getting glimpses of the box. He couldn't resist teasing her like this, it would make the reveal all the better. He sat down and when she joined him he leaned over to kiss her cheek.
"I missed you, vhenan." He told her sweetly. She smiled, snuggling up to him.
"I missed you too, now what's in the box?" She tried to open it but he simply batted her hand away.
"A surprise. How has the desert treated you?" He knew he was torturing her by not giving into her curiosity, and he loved watching her squirm.
"Fine, but you are torturing me." She made another pass at the box and he kept it just out of her reach. She frowned but he leaned into her, his lips close to her ear.
"First tell me how much you missed me." He whispered and he saw the involuntary shiver run down her back.
"So much that I touched myself while wearing your sleep shirt that I took-
"You have my shirt?" He asked, suddenly excited that he had finally located his missing shirt. She looked startled but nodded.
"Yeah, I took it because it smelled like you, where are you going?" The box forgotten he walked into her tent, looking for her pack that held her clothes. There! He rummaged through it, finally finding his wrinkled but still intact shirt. He was admiring his shirt when he realized he had left her gift unattended. Dammit. He quickly left the tent to find Miriel holding the armor, a collection of chainmail and leather with a look of awe on her face.
"Is this…is this for me?" She asked softly as she turned to look at him. Solas sighed and smiled as he stepped forward.
"Yes. It is as authentically Dalish as Master Harrit could get it. Vhenan, I imagine it is difficult for you at times to be separated from your clan for so long. I wished…I wished to give you something that may help and to…convey how much I want to be with you." He rejoined the very still woman by the fire. She stared at the piece then gently put it down before throwing herself at him. Her arms came around him in a tight embrace. He returned the hold happily, his face turning into her hair.
"Ma serannas, Solas. I love it." She pulled back to kiss him quickly on the lips before turning back to her present. She scooped it up and dashed into her tent. As she quickly changed clothing, Solas found himself…longing. There were some things that never needed to be said, but 'I love you' or 'Ar lath ma' was not one of those things. She had danced around the sentiment with him for weeks now and while he suspected she did love him, he did wonder why she hadn't said those three words. It was a troublesome thought that he shook from his mind. It was not wise to think of such things on the eve of battle.
Soon he heard a loud high pitched noise emanate from the tent. Miriel was then emerging from the tent, her hair pulled back in a ponytail and her body clad in the new armor. It appeared to fit perfectly, laying protectively on her slim body. Unlike the bulkier leathers she had been wearing previously, this armor was slimmer but denser and in a way more protective as it allowed for more movement. She wore a long but slim red decorative tunic that opened on the sides, displaying the bright silverite of her chainmail. A scarf the color of an eggplant was wrapped around her neck while her shoulders were covered by leather pads covered in phoenix feathers. Her feet were finally free but protected by the thigh high elf-style leather boots made from the hide of a wyvern. The leather underneath the chainmail was also wyvern hide, allowing for a more efficient and comfortable heat exchange than anything made with bear or snoufleur skin. Everything had been decided on carefully and with great thought. He wanted her to have more than just a token of his affection, he wanted her to own a truly wonderful set of armor.
"How do I look?" She asked coyly, spinning for him. Solas smiled as he stood and strode to her. She smiled up at him as he rested his hands on her hips.
"You are the most beautiful Dalish woman I have ever seen." He told her truthfully, not allowing her to respond with words as he leaned down and kissed her like he had been wanting to for weeks.
Bull walked to Dorian's tent, a tall Vyrantium cotton thing that anyone with an eye for such things could spy easily enough, with a bottle of old Tevinter wine in hand. He hoped that Dorian would be accepting of him and the gift, and if not…well there were at least five redheaded Fereldans he had seen marching with the army that he knew who would love to give him a reason to try to forget about Dorian. If I could forget about him, Bull thought as he marched through the sand.
Bull was going to knock or make some noise asking permission to go into Dorian's tent, he really was, but he was tired and he heard Dorian grunt as if he was in pain. With impulse control low and with the even the slight idea that Dorian was hurt, even if it was just a stubbed toe or something, Bull charged into Dorian's tent. The man in question was laying on the ground covered in sweat and wearing thin cotton leggings. He sat up quickly at the noise Bull made, shocked to see the angry looking Qunari hunched over and almost crazed looking in his tent.
"What are you doing?" Dorian asked in shock, sitting up. Bull assessed the situation quickly, realizing that Dorian was probably doing sit ups or some other exercise.
"It sounded like you were hurt, so I, uh, freaked." Dorian, now standing up, grabbed a towel and wiped the sweat off his face.
"Well, I am quite fine, as you can see." Dorian said and Bull nodded.
"Yeah, I can see that." Bull turned to leave but remembered the bottle of wine, "I got you some wine, that's why I was outside of your tent." Bull handed the bottle to Dorian who looked surprised once more before Bull made to leave the tent.
"You know I hate drinking alone," Dorian said quickly, stopping Bull in his tracks. The Qunari turned slowly and smiled at the mage.
"And I hate leaving someone to drink alone," Bull responded. Dorian finally cracked a smile as Bull returned to his side. They sat down and uncorked the wine which began a long night of talking, laughing, and sometimes touching and kissing.
That last gift to be delivered that night was carried by a soldier. The soldier found Blackwall sitting near the main campsite on a rather large rock. The man handed Blackwall the letter in his pack with a polite 'Sir' before leaving to return to his duties. Blackwall made sure the soldier was well out of sight before opening the envelope, breaking the distinctive wax seal. Perfume wafted up to his nose, an intoxicating scent of flowers – Josephine's favorite perfume. He removed the letter from the envelope and read her sweet words over and over again, letting it relax him before he had to harden himself to the horror that was to come.
Fluff! Yay!
On a serious note, next week's chapter is Adamant and the Fade (it may be multiple chapters since it is about 30 pages long right now). It will not be fluffy or happy or fun, it will be graphic. I will post content warnings at the beginning of the chapter to make sure to properly warn those who may adversely affected, but I just wanted to let you know now.
Thank you for reading! Please review!