It was a quiet evening, a rare thing in Skyhold. Everyone was serenely busy with his task with the utmost care, from the stable boy to the Herald of Andraste in person. At least, that was the impression the Inquisitor Lavellan gave to those who went to the library at this time of night.
Rosal'in had taken advantage of Dorian's departure to abandon the imposing solid wood study table on which she had been studying for several hours in favour of the red velvet chair that the magister occupied daily. Moreover, the study table wasn't the only thing she had left behind during her migration. Curled up comfortably against the armchair, her bare feet resting on the seat, she was reading one of the famous novels of the writer Catherine Morland. Although she was best known for her cloak-and-dagger novels, in which demons and swordsmen occasionally mingled, her later works tended to pay homage to the sentimental literature of her mother's native kingdom, Antiva.
The Andrastian messiah had taken care to hide the cover of her book with the help of a second work, the Tales of the Destruction of Thedas by the Chantry scholar Brother Ferdinand Genitivi. While her faithful admired with pride and reverence the conscientiousness of their guide, she blushed and agitated discreetly and with impunity before the incredible adventures of Miss Viniciana and Monseigneur Desjardins. All had been fooled by the clever subterfuge staged by the Dalish girl. At least almost all of them.
As Solas silently wandered through the various shelves in search of a Tevinter treaty about the manifestations of the Fade and their consequences on the environment, his attention was caught by a familiar giggle. Cautiously, he leaned slightly towards the noise, half hidden by the bookcase in front of which he was standing. Where usually stood in a distinguished and almost haughty manner a tevintide mage that he could barely stand was curled up Rosal'in. A heavy manuscript that the apostate knew very well rested on her lap. He had had the opportunity, not long ago, to read the works of Brother Genitivi. Remarkably erudite, but deadly dull.
A slight exclamation of surprise escaped from the young woman's vermeil lips as her cheeks took on a pleasant pinkish hue. She promptly placed a hand in front of her mouth to hide her emotion. She obviously seemed pleasantly surprised by her reading. Solas watched her for a brief moment, confused, before he realized that the pages of the Chantry scholar work remained motionless, even when he heard her turn a page.
He skillfully put the book he was leafing through back in its place, and then approached Rosal'in with a wolf's pace and a grin on his face.
"It's rare to see you studying so late, vhenan. Your studiousness is to your credit."
Rosal'in slightly startled at the sound of her teammate's voice, presumably caught off guard.
"Oh- Emma lath! I didn't hear you coming..."
With his hands behind his back, the mage bent down to pretend to read the title of the book and then looked into the emerald irises of the inquisitor.
"Brother Genitivi seems to have you on the edge of your seat."
"Yes, he- His travels are quite exciting."
Rosal'in put one of her blonde curls back behind her ear and looked away. She had never excelled in the art of lying.
"Isn't it? The chapter on Dalish morals and customs is remarkable both for its accuracy and its richness."
Rosal'in discreetly pursed her lips. She hadn't gotten past the introduction. She took a deep breath and then renewed the eye contact she had deliberately interrupted because of her embarrassment.
"Indeed, it can be said that this is an exceptional testimony." she asserted with a shy smile.
Solas took two steps forward, inexorably reducing the distance between them.
"Do you agree with what he said? He's particularly virulent towards the Dalish, even disrespectful. "He subtly raised his hand towards the work. "Let me show you the passage I'm referring to."
In no time at all, the apostate stole the little book that Rosal'in had been trying to hide for several hours. The young woman straightened herself up immediately, letting the old manuscript fall into total indifference.
"Solas! Give me back that book!" she whispered so as not to draw attention to them.
Aware of her smallness, she began to climb on the armchair to try to take back what her companion had just stolen from her without any scruples. When Solas turned her back to examine the object that aroused his curiosity, she knew that her maneuver had failed and that she would have to face the consequences of her actions.
"The impertinent Miss Viniciana by Catherine Morland. Here's a book that certainly doesn't deal with your subjects of study..." He immediately began to leaf through the book, first reading a few passages here and there before turning his attention to the page where the inquisitor had stopped. "Oh, vhenan. I didn't know you were fond of erotic literature. "A small, clear laugh crossed his lips as he turned to face a Rosal'in whose cheeks matched the crimson colour of the armchair on which she had resigned herself to sit again. "Does Cassandra know about this?"
At first, Rosal'in didn't bother to answer him. With her arms folded across her chest, she looked both upset and embarrassed. Solas was indeed the last person she wanted to be told about her lewd literary tastes. She didn't want him to see her as a young woman with dissolute morals when their relationship was about to take shape.
"Don't make fun of me."
The rift mage placed the book on the armrest of the armchair and then tenderly took hold of his lover's cheek so that she could look at him.
"That was not my intention. I apologize if my words led you to believe otherwise. Your reactions simply piqued my curiosity."
He leaned towards the young woman, his lips at the level of her ear.
"I just wanted to know how Brother Genitivi managed to make you blush so easily." His fingers grazed her cheekbone in a fleeting caress. "But it would seem that the credit belongs rather to Monseigneur Desjardins."
A pleasant warmth rose within Rosal'in's chest while Solas' deep and calm voice whispered in the hollow of his ear some gallantry.
"I must confess that I feel somewhat aggrieved. I would never have thought that an Orlesian, though fictitious, could seduce you."
It was the turn of the chosen of Andraste to laugh. A frank and joyful laughter, barely stifled.
"And what are you going to do, emma lath? Ask for reparation?" A second laugh escaped her, this time more discreet, followed by a small mischievous smile.
"Precisely."
As she was about to tease him again, a hand slipped around her waist and lifted her up. Without further ado, her eldest claimed her lips in a kiss inviting voluptuousness. He kissed the delicate curves of her mouth with lascivious devotion, drawing out whines of pleasure which he was careful to silence as soon as he heard them. No one else was allowed to hear the sweet moans of his inquisitor as he made her lose her mind in the hollow of his arms.
Taking advantage of their sudden promiscuity, Rosal'in freed herself from the grip of Solas' lips to passionately embrace the salient curve of his jaw. She then felt his hands grow bolder, lingering on her generous hips for a long time before grabbing her buttocks in a gesture of obvious dominance that wrenched a new moan of pleasure from her.
"Solas... The soldier-"
"He just left."
As his full lips ventured into the hollow of her neck, biting the creamy skin within their reach, the mage grabbed his companion's thighs and lifted her up to the level of his pelvis. Rosal'in instinctively tied her legs around his waist, as if she had been struck with frenzy by the boldness that Solas had just shown.
Her back soon hit the wall next to the armchair, shattering what little restraint she had left. She shockingly cambered herself against the apostate who was far too busy unbuttoning her blouse to notice that the Dalish woman's desire had materialized between her thighs and was slowly flowing down her ass, barely covered by her long camel skirt which was now dangerously tucked up.
Dazed with voluptuousness, she tried in vain to pull on her skirt to hide this sight of pure debauchery from a potential visitor. As soon as he noticed it, Solas took her hands and placed them above her head. The grip on his wrists was firm but gentle, a way of letting her know that her role as a submissive depended solely on her own will.
A cheeky smile appeared on Solas' lips as one of his hands began to stroke Rosal'in's soaked ass.
"If I'd known you were more sensitive to brutality than gentleness, I would have taken you against a wall a long time ago." He whispered as his tongue traced the tip of his ear, pressing his erection against her ass. "Isn't that what you want, unless I'm mistaken? To be savagely taken against a wall like a whore. At least that's what your reading suggests."
His words made her tremble with apprehension and arousal. A mere brief reading of some dirty novel had given him a better grasp of her fantasies than any of her former suitors. She nodded her head before she realized he was waiting for a verbal answer.
"Ye- Yes."
Her answer was brief, expeditious. She'd never indulged her fantasies before. She didn't know how to go about it.
"Good."
Against all odds, he kissed her forehead tenderly and then laid her down carefully on the ground, leaving her even more confused than she already was.
"...Solas? I don't get it. Is something wrong?"
Her tone was hesitant, her voice slightly trembling, fearing the answer he was going to give her. Her desires were perhaps too degrading for him. But if so, why would he have put so much ardour and taken so much pleasure in playing with her fantasies?
"As appealing as the idea of taking you against a wall is, vhenan, I prefer to do it in a more intimate place." He took one of her hands and then kissed it deferentially. "I'm afraid I'm not as bold as Monseigneur Desjardins." He punctuated his tirade with a cocky grin.
The inquisitor rolled her eyes, falsely irritated, but definitely delighted by the turn of events.
"So, your room or mine?"