OOC - for the previous chapter, that is my head canon reason why the Warden is where she is in my story. I know its not game canon.
OOC2 - a little bit of sexytime for these two.
Solana chewed on her lower lip, staring up at the lantern lit grand stairs to the front doors of the castle with no small amount of trepidation. The flames were guttering in the braziers lining the walk as a zephyr swept through the courtyard, lifting the hem of her cloak into a shadowy nimbus around her. She shivered, glancing up to anchor herself by the stars. They were the same stars as at Amaranthine. This was real.
The stairs were interminable and at the top, the guards scrutinised her curiously, but did not halt her entrance. She supposed she didn't have to wonder why. Not really. One held the door open for her. She was met in the front hall by a lovely slender woman with dark brown hair in intricate braids surrounding her head.
"Arlessa. You are most welcome. I am, Aelfwyn, one of the King's stewards. He is out in the courtyard at the moment. Please, will you follow me?" Aelfwyn moved gracefully through the lower rooms, Solana in tow.
Solana pressed a hand to her belly. It was tied in knots. She darted glances left and right. Servants moved throughout, doing whatever servants do. Guardsmen in stoic silence held their vigil.
The courtyard was a small one. Trees and tiny delicate flowers perfumed the cool night air. More lanterns cast golden light over the narrow path. Aelfwyn smiled at her and gestured silently for Solana to precede her and just as silently left.
Solana followed the narrow path, and rounding a corner, drew to a halt.
There was an arbour backed up to the wall. White silk walls were glowing golden from light within. A weathered table and comfortable wing chairs were positioned within. The detritus from a meal was scattered over the surface and the man she had come to see was reading a book, a goblet in hand. She took the moment to study him in repose. He had rid himself of his tunic and only wore a simple white undershirt. His breeches were loose, brown cotton tucked into worn leather boots.
He glanced up as she took a step nearer, and she watched first surprise, then pleasure and to her chagrin, the wariness settle over his lean features.
"Alistair," she murmured softly by way of greeting.
He set down the book and the goblet and rose to his feet. "Solana."
Silence echoed between them until he broke it. "I did not expect to see you."
"I know." Solana twisted her hands together at her waist, under cover of the cloak. She kept her expression schooled into equanimity with no small amount of effort. "If you wish quiet, I can return tomorrow?"
Alistair stepped forward. "Stay. Please." His eagerness overrode his caution. He hesitated, eyes drinking in her form. He gestured blindly. "Join me? I just had my evening meal but I have wine?"
Solana dug in for her courage. She approached him slowly. His bright gaze was fixed on her and he lowered his arm to his side. She lifted both palms and placed them on his chest. She felt his heart thundering in his chest, the beat strong and sure. She met his gaze. His expression was still wary and it made her unsure. She lifted a hand and touched his cheek. When he didn't draw away, she brushed her thumb across his lips. She felt the lightest suction of a kiss and found hope.
"Why are you here?" he asked softly.
"I don't…know," Solana admitted. "But I couldn't leave without seeing you again."
His hands captured her waist beneath the cloak. "I'm glad you came back."
Solana chewed thoughtfully in her lower lip. Then: "Why did you summon me to the castle, Alistair?"
Alistair drew his brows together in a frown. "Rutherford and Trevelyan reported that you were doing well. Reported that Amaranthine was running as it should. That you had returned from hunting when they arrived." He lifted a hand from her waist to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. "And I realised that I wanted to see you. I thought I had inured myself to your loss after the Blight. But I was wrong. One mention of your name, and my stomach tied up in knots."
Solana smiled faintly. "They must have been convincingly descriptive."
"They were." Alistair smiled wryly, his hand cupping her face.
"They said Teagan was ill."
"He was. Very. He almost died. And even now he does poorly."
"He is family to you."
"Yes." Alistair nodded. "And I couldn't bear losing another."
"Oh, Alistair." Solana curled her hand around his forearm. She turned her head and placed a kiss upon his palm. She sensed him draw in a sharp breath.
"How long do I have you?" His voice was tight. "Before you must go home."
"Tonight. Wynne and I return home tomorrow."
"Tonight?" His arm tightened around her waist, drawing her against him.
"Yes. Wynne knows that I will be gone many hours. She has promised not to leave the Inn."
"Smart girl."
"She got my brains." Solana smiled up at Alistair.
"Luckily," he smiled crookedly.
She pressed her lips to that smile, and a groan of pleasure murmured from his throat as he slanted his lips across hers, deepening the kiss. His hand cupped the back of her head, his other arm steadying her suddenly trembling knees. She curled her fist into the fabric of his shirt.
When the kiss broke, he murmured, "Will you be with me tonight?"
"Yes."
Alistair closed the door to his chamber and turned to watch Solana divest herself of her cloak. She wore the green dress from earlier, the deep, rich green making his heart ache with the memories. When she turned to look at him, he couldn't move. Couldn't take the necessary steps into the room and draw her toward his very lonely bed.
It was her smile that got his traitorous limbs to finally move.
Their kisses heated and clothing was pulled off, revealing pale skin still smooth with muscle - though Solana still bore the marks of having borne a child. Alistair kissed those too when they collapsed onto his bed.
Familiar hands found familiar curves, rough fingertips teasing gasps and cries from the other. And when Alistair finally slid into her, he had to close his eyes to find his calm again. Their joining was slow, languorous at first as they found their rhythm. Then as their climax found them, Solana cried aloud, Alistair groaning his release.
And afterwards, wrapped in each others arms as they once used to in a small tent in some distant field, they slumbered.
Solana woke. Something had disturbed her rest. Something hard struck her shoulder and she sat up. Alistair was on his back, his head turned away. His bare chest was covered in sweat and his head tossed toward her. His face was rigid with pain, brows drawn together and lips peeled back in a snarl. His hand was clenching the bedsheets.
Solana's heart beat wildly. No. No, surely not.
She placed her hand upon his chest. "Alistair?"
He didn't respond, merely moaned something unintelligible. His head tossed again, and he cried aloud, back bowed in agony on the bed.
She reached for his hand and his eyes snapped open, his breath coming in shuddering gasps.
His gaze rested on her, wild eyed with fear and it took a moment to realise he was safe.
She touched his face.
"How long?"
"Been getting worse." He lifted his hand and pressed the fingers into his eyes.
"How long?" She repeated.
"Months now." His voice was choked.
Tears gathered in her eyes. "Alistair. Is this really why you asked me to come?"
He dropped his hand and sat upright, leaning forward with his forearms on his thighs. "Yes. I'm sorry. I should have told you."
She wrapped her arms around his big, solid body and held him close as he quietly wept. "It will be alright. We will find a way. We will."
"There is no way," he said hollowly. "You know that. It's the Calling, Solana."
"But it's too soon. You can't be going through it."
Alistair reached out and tucked her into his embrace. "Denying it won't make it not happen, my love."
The sun sent insipid rays through the windows, casting it's light over the two figures on the bed. One curled against the other, her legs entwined with his. The other staring at the ceiling, his face troubled.