Chapter 44
Solas knocked on the door of one of the testing rooms in the sleep lab. He was standing in a sterile hallway in the basement. The patterning of bare feet on the hardwood floors brought a smile to his lips. Despite the unideal circumstances, Solas was enjoying the prospect of spending more time with Ellana. He didn't, however, want to seem overly eager. Clearing his throat, he did his best to appear neutral. Or, at the very least, professional.
The drive back to Val Royeaux made him uncertain if his feelings for Ellana were mutual.
Sunglasses on and arms crossed, she had stared out of the window for the rest of the trip. The few times Solas thought to ask a question, she gave elusive, one-word answers. He did his best not to take her taciturn demeanor personally, but it was difficult not to. Was she still suspicious of him?
Considering all unpleasant surprises and obstacles that had hounded Ellana over the last few months, he couldn't blame her if she was. At her polite request, Solas stayed in the car as Ellana packed a bag. When they returned to campus, she had quietly excused herself to her office. Around dinner time, he had texted her, asking if she'd like to share a meal with him, only for her to send back a succinct note that she'd scrounge something up on her own.
Waiting for Ellana to return to the lab, Solas had sat at his desk, haphazardly reviewing lab reports. Dagna had stopped by, typing away at her laptop opposite from him. It was, after all, part of their regular Saturday routine to review the week ahead. There wasn't much to report on given it was the holiday. Solas was even released from work at the hospital for the next couple weeks, barring any great emergency.
Occasionally, Dagna would ask an abstract question that probed at the events of the morning. Although Solas wholeheartedly trusted his assistant, he didn't want to give away his hypotheses about Ellana's magic. In the event of Inquisition, or even worse Evanurius, subterfuge, revealing too much would be dangerous.
"I can't believe you brought Dr. Lavellan to Bon Frites!" Dagana had almost shouted when he finished his summary.
Solas acknowledged that the pit stop to the fast-food joint was not his smoothest moment, but at the time, he thought convenience would be preferable to any elaborate gesture.
"I seem to recall that their number five combo is one of your 'go-to's.'"
"Respectfully Professor, I thought you liked Dr. Lavellan." Dagna shook her head, quickly correcting herself, "as a colleague, of course."
"Does a fry basket not convey the sentiment of like?" Solas responded dryly. Never one to pick up on sarcasm, Dagna responded with genuine enthusiasm.
"Can I suggest the obvious, and say you should take Dr. Lavellan to dinner, L'Astral or La Lune et le Renard. Oh, or somewhere with a good wine list, a view? I can make a reservation…"
Solas laughed, uplifted at his assistant's optimism.
"What sort of restaurant is this La Lune et le Renard? What a name."
"Oh my god, Professor. Seriously? Do you not read the newspaper? It is the most popular restaurant in the city!" Dagna exclaimed. "Tevinter-Orlesian fusion."
"Ah, I see why you would suggest that for Dr. Lavellan."
He ignored the sound of Dagna clattering away at her keyboard, picking up a lab report, momentarily distracted by a few mistakes one of his students had made in their research, he made a few notes in his distinctive all caps handwriting.
"Evening after tomorrow." Dagna proclaimed with a triumphant grin. "You have a reservation at seven for two at La Lune et le Renard."
"Was that necessary? I don't know if-"
"Sorry Professor," Dagna shouted, scooping up all her papers and computer and prancing out of his office, "I have to get Dr. Lavellan's room ready in the sleep lab. I'll see you closer to the art historian's bedtime."
"Dagna," Solas called out down the hallway after her. "Dagna!"
"Professor," Dagna yelled back. "I'll remind you, that right now is my scheduled dissertation writing time."
"I'll remind you this is insubordination," Solas hotly retorted in a whisper. Loud enough that he knew Dagna heard as she slammed her door shut.
Now, standing in front of the door, an hour or so later, Solas was reminded of the reservation at La Lune et le Renard. How would he manage to ask Ellana?
Who knew what mood Ellana was in any event?
He was relieved when she opened the door to see her smiling. She had changed into a set of black leggings and an MIT sweatshirt, the same one she had worn the night Solas had driven her home from the hospital. Her hair was falling in tousled waves below her shoulders, curly and blonde. Stripped of the usual poised apparel, she looked relaxed, if not luminous.
"Welcome," Ellana said, with a sweeping bow and a flippant smirk. "Although, on second thought, I probably should find different verbiage considering this is your lab."
"I appreciate the sentiment," Solas said, stepping into the doorway as Ellana flopped down on the edge of the bed, leaning back with her arms behind her. Stepping into the room, Solas awkwardly held up a coil of electrodes used to track different sleep cycles.
The sleep lab rooms were sparingly furnished. A large bed is king-sized with a nightstand on either side. There was not a single picture on the wall, or alarm clock. A set of mauve curtains hung over a window into the observation room. Ellana had drawn them shut. The light was soft, the only source a lamp softly illuminating the walls. It was an adolescent preoccupation, but Solas couldn't stop looking at the curved line of Ellana's lips as she spoke.
"You said you usually fall asleep at eleven?" Solas asked, glancing away.
"Yes," Ellana confirmed. Solas realized she had her laptop open. Assuming she was writing, he thought he'd make excuses to give the art historian more time to work.
"I'll come back then in another hour or so?" Solas said, looking down at his watch and quickly set an alarm. Holding up a plastic bag of electrical cords and their necessary accouterments, He begrudged every awkward word that followed "I'm making every effort to let Dagna work on her dissertation as much as possible, but if you prefer she could attach these-"
"Stay?" Ellana interrupted, Adding as an afterthought, "If you like, that is."
"I wouldn't want to interrupt your work."
"Oh, I'm not-." Ellana blushed. "If you really must know, I'm watching the Hero of Ferelden."
Solas laughed. The beloved soap opera was infamous for its poor production values and never-ending, always shifting dramatic love triangles. He hadn't watched more than a few hours of it outside of airport bars.
"I never would have guessed."
"I'm terribly addicted if you must know."
Solas knew it was absolutely the last thing he should be doing, but he shut the door behind him, set down the bag of electrodes on the nightstand and sat on the bed, his back against the quilted headboard. Running his hand over the sheets, he was pleased to feel the high thread count.
"Dagna told me they make every effort to make the bed as comfortable as possible," Ellana said, flopping down to lay on her back and looking up at him from the black expanse of the coverlet. "I don't think I've slept in a bed this nice since the last conference I went to where the department-sponsored my hotel room."
Solas didn't think there was any subtext to Ellana's observations. Only he couldn't help but be painfully reminded of the last time the pair had found themselves sitting on a bed watching a movie. The circumstances had been so different.
"You're brave to wear that sweatshirt on this campus. You know UofO just lost to MIT's rugby team last week."
"MIT has a rugby team?" Ellana said, her face twisting in confusion. At first, Solas thought she was joking. Judging from the perplexed look she gave him, however, it was clear she wasn't.
"Only one of the finest in the league! You studied there for what? Seven years?"
"You like rugby?"
"I enjoy going to rugby games. On occasion, for work, I attend the Charger matches, depending on who managed what head injury that week."
"Oh, I am surprised to hear you do something other than work, Professor," Ellana countered. Her voice sounded harsh, but Solas could tell from the coy smile she flashed him, she was teasing him, if not, purposefully testing his patience.
"I believe that you are also prone to overworking," Solas said, deciding it prudent to change the subject, "Shall we watch this soap opera?"
"Would you really want to?" Ellana replied, he detected some hope in her voice. "I'm behind a few episodes, and trying to catch up-."
Solas nodded encouragingly.
Ellana nudged the laptop to the center of the bed and stood, coming around the opposite side of where Solas was sitting. Picking up the comforter, she slid in, sitting up against the headboard an arms length away. Solas was grateful for the layer of fabric separating their bodies. He could feel the undercurrent of mana in the air shift from a calm and constant tide to a storm.
"I'm guessing you don't watch movies in bed with your other patients," Ellana said, absently clicking the keyboard so that the video played. Solas detected a dare to the edge in her voice. Was she flirting?
"That would be correct, although you'll have to explain to me what's going on."
"This is a flashback," Ellana said to explain the flashing lights, "Cammen and Gheyna are two young Dalish hunters who wish to be married. Cammen however has yet to complete his coming of age ritual due to werewolves-"
"Why are there werewolves?"
"You have to suspend belief," Ellana shushed him as a scene unfolded where the Warden appeared to attempt to seduce Gheyna, seemingly unaware of her previous dedication to Cammen. For some reason, the conversation took place outside in the pouring rain, and the main actor was wearing a white shirt that revealed their toned abs. A sinister orchestral soundtrack played in the background.
"I thought one was to like the Warden?" Solas observed, "Aren't they the hero?"
"Oh, that's the Warden's evil twin, who has tied up the actual Warden in the Keeper's aravel because he wants the werewolves to win."
"What a subtle plotline."
Ellana chuckled, turning to her side to face the laptop screen. For a time, the two of them watched the show in silence. Solas almost drifted off to sleep when he was jostled awake by Ellana clicking her computer shut. With a small sigh, she placed the machine on the nightstand next to her, before flipping over to stare at him.
"Do you remember the day we met on the first day of classes?" She burst, "When we didn't know each other?"
"Of course."
"This might be a little silly, but I had the sense you were going to ask me out."
"Absolutely. It was all I could think about."
It was all Solas could think about now, in fact, picking up Ellana in his car the day after next and sharing a few dreamy hours over a wine list, away from all the turmoil that had repeatedly brought them back together. It was a romantic fantasy, perhaps, but a good one. Now would be the perfect time to ask. Why couldn't he find the words?
Ellana laughed, looking away from him with uncharacteristic shyness. The mirthful glint was so much like the one she had flashed him when he fished her out of the bushes. So much had happened since then.
"It seems like that was a century ago." She continued, her face suddenly sad. "Not four months."
Solas nodded in agreement.
"And now we have an orb to find."
"Yes," Solas repeated grimly, "and now we have an orb to find."
His words were interrupted by the loud monotonous blare of his watch going off. The shrill sound was impossible to ignore.
"What is that sound?" Ellana asked, her voice startled. Solas could see her scan the room as if searching for a threat.
"I set an alarm to signal when we had to hook you up to the machines."
"Oh, well, I'm not sure how to respond to that."
"May I?" Solas asked, reluctantly reaching over and grabbing the bag of electrodes from the nightstand. Patting the blanket in front of him, Ellana moved over. With little ceremony, he unzipped the bag and removed a coil of cables and set them down on the bed, taking out an additional disposable container of paste.
"I haven't done this since my residency," Solas laughed. A small nervous exhale.
"Really?"
"Normally my fellows do this. The overnight testing too."
"So what you're saying is this is VIP treatment?"
"As a matter of speaking," Solas' focus returned to the jar of paste used to affix the electric coils to the skin. It was more of a thick goo that dried when it made contact with oxygen. Using a flat tongue depressor, he'd spread a glob of the stuff to Ellana's skin, and then fasten the cord. The attachment had to be strong enough that the patient couldn't tug it off in their sleep.
For a moment, he considered suggesting Dagna be the one to apply the paste. Some of the electrodes would fasten to sensitive areas of the art historian's body. Clearly, he had not thought this through.
"It's alright," Ellana nodded, noticing his hesitation. "You can. I don't mind."
"So we don't need as many sensors," Solas began in his practiced lecture voice as if to cover up his apprehension, "all we are really concerned about is tracking how you connect to the Fade, instead of, say, your oxygen levels. Fortunately, we have a few specialized cords that can pick up on mana. Which isn't usual."
Unwinding the cords partially, he separated half a dozen electrodes, double-checking he had the right ones. Unscrewing the jar of glue, he dipped the depressor in and applied it to Ellana's skin.
"Ugh, this is gross stuff."
"Yes," Solas laughed at her exaggerated grimace as he quickly fastened an electrode to either temple. "There's pumice soap in the bathroom."
"I was wondering about that."
"Ellana? Do you mind if I secure the next pair to your lower back."
The art historian didn't reply, turning her body and lifting the edge of her sweatshirt, revealing a stretch of deep olive skin. Solas paused for a moment, thinking again to trace his finger up over her vertebrae, but resisted, instead repeating the exercise of binding another set of electrodes to the right and left side.
It was a strange ritual to find erotic.
"Where next?" Ellana asked eagerly. She used the same tone of voice one might use proposing a road trip, or at the very least, a night out at a pub.
"Below the clavicle."
Something had changed in the dynamic between them. Ellana was studying his every movement carefully. Her mouth, subtly parted as she pulled at the collar of her oversized sweatshirt revealing the sensual curve of her neck and decolletage. Grinning up at Solas, he realized for the first time that Ellana was enjoying the whole ordeal. The awareness only served to make him more skittish as he stared at the line of her throat, almost dropping the container of glue into his lap.
Resolving to finish the task quickly, Solas gracelessly moved one of the delicate straps of her bralette, out of the way, stumbling when he heard a sudden intake of breath across Ellana's lips. The mana percolating in the room grew tense as his stomach flipped as the tension built up in his body.
"I-1" Solas stopped himself from speaking while he placed the first and then the second of the final set of electrodes using his fingers. He did his best to repress thoughts of how warm Ellana was.
Handing Ellana the cords, Solas gestured for her to pull them underneath her shirt, allowing them passage. He tried not to ogle as she did so.
"Thank you," Ellana replied, biting her lower lip. She was moving inwards towards Solas before pulling back away with a sudden jerk.
"You're welcome," Solas stood, packing away the leftover cords and items into their pouch before drawing back the covers. Ellana scooted into place and allowed him to cover her before he adjusted the long wires attached to the art historian and plugged them into a machine located at the bottom of one of the nightstands.
"I'll see you in the morning," Ellana said dreamily pulling, the blankets up to her chin.
" On nydha," Solas said with a wink, closing the door behind him.
Tomorrow could not come soon enough.