Chapter 23
Ellana turned the shower up past an advisable temperature. Always cold, she preferred the water to be scalding hot. The glitter and blush she had applied to her skin was starting to itch. She pulled off her costume, carefully unrolling the sheer pink tights from her legs, and stepped into the shower, standing under the water for an interval before she began the chore of scrubbing off the make-up.
Besides, she needed a few moments to gather herself before she joined Solas again. His unexpected presence had left her euphoric. She knew that it would have probably been preferable to go on a more traditional date if that was what was going on, only she hadn't the heart to hit pause on their evening when the Kirkwall had been mobbed. Nor did Solas demonstrate any reluctance to "hang out."
Judging by the way she had caught him looking at her several times, he was more than eager to spend more time with her.
Had anyone ever looked at her that way before?
It wasn't a lewd stare; no, it was reverential.
Ellana wasn't quite sure what to make of it. If she had realized anything in the week-long absence of their texting, that she was a bit spellbound. She was determined, however, not to rush into any premature territory during the evening. Besides, as she had observed, Solas was old fashioned. Even if the rest of the night went well, she didn't expect him also to attempt a good night kiss, unless she, of course, initiated it.
She might.
Running her hands through her hair with shampoo, and then washing her face, she waited until the water ran clear before stepping out, toweling at her skin and hair until she was dry. She had picked out a pair of flowy black shorts with scalloped edges and a wool wrap sweater, the type that ballerinas wore. She had debated, somewhat crassly, if she should have selected some options from the provocative sections of her underwear drawer. Only, she had resisted, choosing a plain matching cotton bralette and hipster briefs.
Pulling her hair into a messy top knot, she checked her face in the mirror one more time for any errant glitter before exiting the bathroom.
She found Solas staring at her bookshelf, carefully studying a photograph that had been taken of her and a group of friends on a beach outside of Minrathous. Everyone was in their swimsuit, striking a silly pose. She was wearing a vintage-styled bikini, with a matching swim turban and sunglasses, held up in the arms of two of her male friends. One of whom was, as Cassandra disdainfully called him, "the never-ending ex."
"If I had anticipated you were coming over, I might have hidden that picture," she laughed self-consciously. She wanted to avoid explaining who everyone in the picture was.
"You must miss your friends." Solas appraised.
"Yes, and the beach," Ellana replied. "Orlais is freezing. It snowed only once the entire time I lived in Minrathous."
"I hope you invested in a suitable winter coat," Solas responded in a clinical voice before moving over to look at her shelf of drawing notebooks. Each was the same size and color, labeled carefully at the corner with the date and year in elegant cursive.
"Yes, doctor." She sassed.
"Forgive me, It's hard not to turn it off," Solas chuckled, rubbing the back of his head.
Ellana melted a bit, seeing the dreamy look he gave her. In the dim light of the University ballroom, and the car, she hadn't noticed how his button-down shirt stretched just so across his fit chest. Nor had she noticed the welcoming laugh lines around his sapphire-blue eyes.
She wouldn't say that Solas was traditionally handsome, but he was undoubtedly regal.
A chime in the breast pocket of Solas' forest green tweed blazer interrupted Ellana's thoughts. She plopped on the edge of her bed and watched as Solas pulled out the phone, chatting briefly with the delivery driver before grabbing Ellana's keys from the top of her desk and stepping out of the hallway, his step echoing as he ran down the stairs.
Grabbing a few plates from the kitchen, along with cutlery, Ellana surveyed her small apartment. Usually she ate on the floor, or at her desk. She had planned, at some point, to purchase a set of folding chairs and a table for when she had the rare guest over, but hadn't gotten that far in her to-do list especially considering that she was only starting to feel better the past few days.
Solas knocked and then entered her apartment, carrying a brown paper sack, laughing good-naturedly when he found Ellana turning in a circle with a hopeless expression on her face.
"Where do you usually eat?" He asked.
"On the floor," Ellana admitted, a flush spreading across her face. "I did not think about this before suggesting take-out."
"Relax," Solas said, gently taking the plates from her hand, gesturing for Ellana to sit down, before joining her on the shaggy rug, crossing his legs, before spreading out several containers on the hardwood floors. Ellana found the whole process strangely sensual, his long fingers elegantly opening each take out container, shoving a spoon into each cardboard package.
The two chatted a bit about the food, comparing each different pickled vegetable, along with the spicy lemongrass and shrimp salad, that was her favorite. The conversation was easy, and for the first time in months, she felt the stress melt away, listening to Solas' baritone voice. Before Ellana knew it, Solas insisted on cleaning up after the entire meal, rolling up his sleeves as he washed the plates and packed away all the leftovers into glass containers for later.
Picking up the brown bag to throw in the trash, Ellana found the stapled receipt. Skimming it, she saw that the entire meal had been paid for with a single credit card, the last four digits not matching her own.
"I thought we were splitting dinner?" she asked, leaning on the doorframe between her living room and the closet-sized kitchen. She couldn't repress a bossy scowl.
"Next time," Solas shrugged. "You know, I'm rather too old to be using apps unchaperoned, so you can't be too mad. I'm a hahren, after all."
"Oh please," Ellana laughed, stepping away to finish throwing away the greasy bag in the trash can. She fussed a bit, straightening Solas' blazer hanging off the back of her chair, and scoping a few stray paperclips into a jar, before returning to the kitchen and intently staring at Solas.
"Yes?" Solas asked, meticulously rinsing off each plate and putting it in the dish dryer.
"Thank you for dinner."
"It was my pleasure."
Ellana flashed a coy smile before sauntering over to her bed, sinking onto it with her arms stretched out, listening to Solas whistle as he finished up in the kitchen. Her phone buzzed as Solas walked over, and she opened it to find that Bull had sent her a picture of Dorian, still in his costume, passed out on an enormous sectional, affectionately cradling the stuffed nug on his chest like a newborn baby. It looked like he was snoring. Another text shortly followed the picture.
xxx-xxx-1235, Iron Bull. 9:20 p.m.
I think you broke my husband ;)
From the corner of her eye, she could see Solas sit apprehensively on the edge of the bed, giving himself enough space that he wouldn't fall, but not so much that he could be considered to be lounging.
Sitting-up, Ellana showed him the screen.
Solas chuckled.
"He's going to have such a headache tomorrow," Ellana said. "Dorian insisted we pregamed a few mimosas while we were getting ready."
"You appeared sober when I arrived."
"I had two. Mostly orange juice. Dorian had four, almost entirely champagne." Ellana sighed, shaking her head. "Art Faculty."
"Ah," Solas responded, "To be honest, I understand that the winning costumes were elaborate, but I still am confused about how anyone would have come up with the Siege of Haven as a concept."
"Creators, you really are a hahren."
"What?" Solas said defensively. "It's an obscure historical moment rarely taught in public Orlesian schools. I've been to the archeology site, and there are never any tourists."
"Yes, but didn't you see the Siege of Haven two summers ago?"
"The what?"
"The movie, Siege of Haven? It won several awards. It stared Michel de Chevrin?"
Solas' expression grew more bewildered.
"I can't believe you didn't see it! I was living in an artist commune with no indoor plumbing or electricity, and I saw it!"
"Really?" Solas teased. "I have a hard time picturing that."
"Believe it." Ellana grinned.
"You continue to surprise me," Solas said in an admiring tone. For a second, his gaze lingered over Ellana's face, following the line of her mouth. She could feel his mana racing around her, buzzing in her ears. Her heart began to pound as he leaned forward a bit, wrapping an arm loosely around Ellana's waist with just enough pressure to escalate the tension, but not enough to be a clear invitation.
She wanted him to kiss her.
"It's growing late. Perhaps I should leave?" He asked in a melancholic voice.
Ellana shook her head.
"D-do you want to go?"
"No, but it might be considered decorous to do so."
"I wouldn't mind putting etiquette aside for a few more hours," Ellana replied carefully, "Actually, I own the Siege of Haven if you want to watch it."
"If you don't mind?"
"Stay," Ellana said decisively, grabbing her laptop and pulling up the file. It was a lengthy movie, but not so long that Solas would leave at too unseemly of an hour. Placing the laptop at the center of the bed, she looked expectantly up at Solas, who seemed uncertain, realizing that she intended for them to watch the movie together on her bed.
She thought to reassure him that she didn't have any plans for anything but a chaste viewing experience. Only all the explanations she came up with sounded more awkward than simply adjusting a few of the pillows for Solas to have a spot at least an arms-length away from her.
Solas carefully pulled himself adjacent to her, crossing his arms as the credits rolled. Ellana struggled to pay attention to the opening scene of Michel de Chevrin valiantly riding into Haven on a white steed to warn the town about the impending archdemon attack.
"You know he's half-elvhen?" Ellana muttered, inching a bit towards Solas, who extended out his arm again, just enough that so she could lean towards him.
"I did not," Solas said, his eyebrows arching with interest, his fingers grazing Ellana's hip.
Over the next half-an-hour, the distance between their two bodies grew smaller. By the time the Archdemon arrived, Ellana was shivering, and Solas had-without needing to be asked-wrapped her in the fuzzy blanket she had folded at the end of her bed. As the two rearranged themselves, Ellana pushed herself flush against Solas, who responded by firmly putting his arm around her.
"Is this?" He had asked in a tender voice.
Ellana responded by burying herself into his chest, placing an open palm over his heartbeat. Her own was pounding as the blood rushed to her head.
"You're so warm," She observed, as Solas grabbed a loose pillow from his side, placing it on his lap, gently guiding her into a more comfortable position, so she could lay entirely on her side as the movie played. Ellana would have been disappointed that he hadn't kissed her, but the way he sweetly began to stroke her hair as the movie played on, made her feel completely at ease.
Michel de Chevrin was giving his award-winning monologue about sacrificing himself to save Haven when she began to fight to stay awake.
She didn't make it to the end.