AN: Another little drabble set right after "All New Faded for Her". Someone is falling in love. 3
Rated: K
She tucked the woolen blanket around him carefully, fighting the urge to let her fingers linger longer than necessary when they came in contact with the slight swell of his bicep, the knot of his shoulder, the dip of his lean hips. He had fallen asleep in his study again, sprawled languidly across his couch. Even in sleep, sorrow had etched itself into his features, still mourning the loss of his friend. The weight of his grief felt like a ball of lead in her chest, solid, dark, and aching, rising up into her throat whenever their eyes met. She wanted so badly to hold him, to convey the sort of comfort that only comes from touch; a soft warm sense of belonging. But he had asked for time to consider their relationship, and time is what she was giving him. If only he would let her give him more.
"You are safe," she whispered to him, thinking of the Chantry priests who still gave her Fade expert dubious glances whenever they overheard them discussing magic.
"You are valued," she continued just as softly, remembering the numerous occasions he had been brushed aside and overlooked based solely on his modest attire and his pointed ears.
"You are home." Her voice broke on the last word, recalling the gnawing worry that had torn at her gut when he had not returned to their camp in the Exalted Plains, the bubbling panic when he was not at Skyhold to meet them, and the selfish sense of paralyzing loss when the realization struck her that she might never see him again.
She kissed her fingers and, not quite daring to touch his face, placed them lightly on the blackened wolf jaw where it lay over his heart.
"Ar lath ma, Solas." The words were his even if he would not have them. "Sleep well. May the Trickster never find you in the Beyond."
He waited until he heard her close the door softly behind her, listening as the light sounds of her footfalls trailed away into the Great Hall. Keeping his eyes closed, he pulled the blanket up to his nose with one hand and breathed deeply. The smell of lavender and fresh water washed over him, sweet and clean. He held it in his lungs until he was dizzy with it, as though it might purify him of all his past transgressions. Her words echoed in his head like the sound of the ocean, coming back to him again and again. They buoyed him up and away from his sadness, only to pull him back down into something darker, deeper, and infinitely more disastrous. She loved him. She loved him. He threw his arm across his face as a strangled bark of laughter broke past his lips. The Dread Wolf may have caught her scent, but it was he who was ensnared.