Author's Disclaimer: I don't own a thing belonging to "Dragon age: Inquisition." Naffing.

Author's note: This is my first Dragon Age 3 thing. Hawke, I will have to put you aside for now. I always had a thought about a possible romance between Inquisitor Lavellan and Solas. I know he'll put her aside without warning before consummating their relationship. But what would have happened after that? Time to write that! :P

And no, I'm not having Solas take her vallaslin away. That's staying here.

"Shifting Interest"

Chapter one "Let down"

Lavellan smiled up into Solas's face. The older elf smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling slightly as he leaned down to kiss her. She leaned into his thin frame, blushing to feel his hand move low down her back and then gently grasp her rear. She leaned happily into him, kissing him back. All of her love and feelings surged forward, and her arms twined round his neck. The man's smile when they parted was fading and Lavellan couldn't name as to why. Then he pushed away from her arms, abit too abruptly.

"Why?" she asked, confused. Yes, she'd refused his offer to remove her vallaslin…..truth be told, she wasn't sure that could even be achieved. When a Dalish tattoo was set to skin, it stayed for life. Her facial tattoos spoke of her clan, Clan Lavellan, that grasped onto any hint of the past and held onto it.

Regret distorted Solas's features, and he stepped back from her. The gardens, dimly lit, now seemed shadowed and grotesque without his warmth. "I can't," he said bitterly and left her there. Lavellan had held out a hand, as if to restrain or draw him back. Like a stupid maiden in a picture story. She had lowered her hand and sank to her knees in the cold grass, staring at nothing.

They were in love, or so she'd thought. But his two simple words severed their romance as cleanly as any denial. Her heart thundered, hurt, in her breast, and Lavellan blushed, scrubbing her hands over the edges of her elbows, trying to scrub away the hurt. Her body hadn't gotten the message yet and still throbbed with unrequited lust. She thought they'd be together in the garden, then her chambers the rest of the night.

Now, she was alone.

Well, that wasn't exactly accurate. The Inquisitor was never truly alone. Even now as she shambled out of the gardens hoping she didn't look as wretched as she felt, Lavellan was hailed by random castle workers, and soldiers who were walking about their business, or heading to their own affairs as the night drew on.

Her trudging footsteps drew her across the courtyard and toward the tavern door. Raucous laughter and singing rang out as she pushed the door open. The two largest tables were taken over by two groups that lapped over and mingled. At the first, Varric was holding court, smoking his pipe and telling another story, elaborating with one spread hand as faces stared at him raptly. Lavellan gave him a watery smile as he hailed her across the tavern. Stepping around the resident musician, the elven woman made her way around the hearth in the center of the room and to the corner. Iron Bull's Chargers had taken over the second largest area, sharing drinks and stories with soldiers that stopped curiously by. Iron Bull was seated with his back to the corner, affording him the best view of the tavern. He lifted a tankard in greeting.

"Hey, Boss!"

The Chargers urged her to sit and soon a drink was plied on her. Lavellan found drinking it wasn't so hard with her current mood. By the time she'd slapped the tankard down, Krem was pushing a second upon her. He clinked his mug against hers and Lavellan found herself smiling as Stitches began another story. Something about someone's wound going wrong. When Bull shrugged awkwardly, she got the story was about him.

"Is that how you lost the eye?" Lavellan asked curiously. She blinked through her foggy vision as the drink got to her. But she was surrounded by smiling faces. And Bull was grinning at her. She was safe.

"No! I think I told you that one, Boss," Bull said. Lavellan burst out laughing. Krem let her lean against him, and she was started to feel breasts through a binding through his shirt. But she found it intriguing and let him massage her shoulders.

"Hey, Krem, hands off the Inquisitor," Dalish reprimanded him across the table. Lavellan was interested to see a look dart in Bull's eyes at those words. His strong hand curled around his tankard, making it look small in his grip. She stared at his scarred fingers interestedly as she drank more and more.

"She's tense. Inquisitor, what's got your muscles hard as rocks?" Krem murmured beside her. Lavellan took a long sip and hiccupped.

"Just a bad night," she waved a hand. A few soldiers asked what was wrong and Lavellan was touched so many curious faces were around her, wanting to make things right. A leader had to be strong. But sometimes a down to earth leader had problems like everyone else. It made the common soldier connect more with them. Lavellan's mind was going over in similar circles, wondering how much she should reveal, and what Solas would think of her lamenting his rejection of her.

'To hell with him,' Lavellan thought stubbornly. He didn't want her, but Bull and his Chargers and her soldiers were doting on her. THEY didn't find her company revolting. "I was…..cast aside," she said, her drunken mind trying to be as diplomatic as it could be in this state.

"What! No!" A female soldier said beside her. Lavellan nodded. Stitches handed her a fresh tankard across the table.

"Ss true! He said…..he said… he kissed me, then… 'I caaaan't,'" Lavellan finished in an awkward imitation of Solas's words. The men and woman around her laughed in commiseration.

"Maybe he couldn't get it up," Krem suggested. One of the Chargers joshed him across the table and Krem blushed.

"Maybe he fancies men instead!" Another suggested.

"He shouldn't have led you on, then," another insisted. "Who was this anyway?" Some of the soldiers offered to knock sense into the idiot their Inquisitor was talking about.

Lavellan protested, hands raised in peace. "No, no, it's okay!"

But Iron Bull was watching her with a steady eye across the table. The night wound on and more drinks were had. The tavern became blurry and so did all the friendly faces around her. Lavellan closed her eyes for just a moment, just a moment, but when she opened them, her head was upside down, and her body was bumping in midair. She recognized suddenly the press of a hard firm chest against her shoulder and that she was being lifted by someone. Someone tall, and very, very strong, as a hand passing over a hard bicep told her.

"Wuh…." Lavellan said, blinking soupy drunk cobwebs from her vision, or trying to. A familiar face hovered over her and one eye blinked down at her as he carried her along.

"It's alright, Boss. Bull's got you," the voice said and Lavellan recognized Iron Bull's voice. She pressed her face into his bare chest and sighed. Sleep came then, and the world fell to blackness.

End for now

End notes: Hey, if Solas doesn't want the elf Inquisitor romance, Bull's ready! Review if you want. Like it, hate it, let me know.

Sincerely, pen 5/14/2022