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She fidgeted slightly under his gaze, studying her so intently. Shifting on the wooden stool she sat upon, Lavellan gazed at the man gazing back at her, tapping her fingers restlessly against the hard wood of the stool.
Solas sighed, setting his brush down. "Vhenan, the more you move, the longer this is going to take," he scolded.
Taryn groaned. "Not that I don't love your art, Solas, but why did you insist on painting me anyways?"
"All great heroes have portraits painted of them, do they not?" He fixed her with a look, and the huntress felt a small blush creep up her cheeks at the praise which she attempted to cover with a cough.
She shrugged with a false-casuality. "S'pose you're right," she mumbled, swinging her legs in front of her before lifting her head to smile at Solas. "Well, better you than the stuffy Orlesian painter Josephine would surely hire in your stead."
"Precisely," the mage agreed with a chuckle. "Now, hold still," he ordered as he lifted his brush and resumed painting. Taryn made a face and stuck her tongue out at him which Solas wisely chose to pretend he didn't see.
The Inquisitor couldn't see how the painting he was working on was coming out to be from where she sat, but she found herself getting lost in the way Solas moved about the large canvas, right hand moving with skill and precision much in the way he maneuvered his staff on the battlefield. She was entranced with the surprising grace with which he moved about and she began to wonder where he learned to paint like that. She'd ask him herself, but figured the answer would be the same as many of the answers to questions involving Solas were. The Fade.
Taryn made a face at that and the mage's eyes snapped up to hers in warning. Lavellan was not one to stand still for long periods of time, surely the man must recognize that.
"You know," she said after a lapse of silence. "When you asked to paint me, I was expecting something much more.. romantic."
"How so?" Solas indulged, eyes flicking to her momentarily before going back to the canvas.
"Well, for starters, I thought we'd be in your quarters, not the rotunda." Somewhere much more private. "Also, I thought I'd be naked," she said with a sly grin, and watched as Solas' eyes remained diligently trained to the canvas suddenly instead of her and the tips of his pointed ears grew a shade of red that matched the red coloring his cheeks. "Oh, relax," she waved off the mage. "I'm not about to strip down to my underclothes right this moment. Dorian's right above us." And she had no doubt the Tevinter could hear every word being exchanged.
"Right, well," he spoke, voice more hoarse than usual as his eyes flicked upwards to her once more. "Painting is hardly a romantic affair." However, the heated gaze he fixed her with clearly said otherwise.
"Mhm," she hummed, sounding unconvinced. "Only because you're not thinking creatively enough."
"Me?" Solas laughed at the irony. "The one currently holding the paint brush is not thinking creatively?"
"Yes," she stated matter-of-factly.
The elf opened his mouth to retort, but seemed to think better of it as he sighed instead. "You realize, vhenan, that the more you attempt to distract me, the longer you and I will be here. And there is still much to do."
Lavellan groaned. "Ugh, this is killing me, Solas."
"I think you'll survive."
"Can't I just see what you have done so far?" She asked, tilting to the side curiously, locks of her black hair flicking over her brow as she did so.
"No," Solas replied sternly. "It is not ready."
Taryn ignored him, hopping off of the stool and grimacing at the feeling of pins and needles in her legs from sitting for such a long period of time. "I don't care about that. I just want to see what you have so far."
Solas moved to try and stop her. "Not until I am finished," he spoke, shifting the the easel to the side as she came around to prevent her view.
"Oh, come on," she pressed, "there's no harm in me seeing it, no?" But Solas stood firm before her, arms crossed across his chest, having none of it. He would not budge on this issue, and she paused, the painting standing between them. "You know," she began, a sly grin that Solas had learned to mean nothing but trouble. "The more you wish to hold it from me, the more I want to know." Solas startled as the rogue disappeared in a cloud of smoke and soon, he could not spot her at all as the shadows concealed her presence from him.
"Fenedhis," he swore under his breath as he looked around for her to no avail. An echo of a laugh came out in a reply, but he could not pinpoint from where it came as it resonated from everywhere at once. In the next moment, Taryn appeared behind him, her breath tickling the back of his neck.
"Got you," she whispered, and Solas spun on his heel to meet her golden eyes, filled with excitement as she stood up on her toes to peak over his shoulder. What she saw though made her stop in her tracks. She blinked, stunned. "Solas, you little shit."
Solas turned facing her, having the decency to look a little guilty, but the amusement was clear in his eyes. "I did say it was a work in progress, did I not?" Which earned him a hard punch on the shoulder.
"Work in progress my arse," she muttered, for on the canvas was not a portrait nor the makings of a portrait. In its stead was the green scenery of a forest which greatly resembled the Emerald Graves what with a Giant slinking through the trees. "You weren't even painting me this whole time!" Lavellan threw her arms in the air, and with that Solas' carefully concealed resolve dissolved and he let out a low chuckle.
"I was curious to see how long I could get you to sit still," he admitted, attempting and failing to keep his smile at bay much to Taryn's annoyance. "Evidently, not long."
His amusement only seemed to get her more fired up and she looked as if she were about to argue, one finger pointed at him as if ready to scold him before she sighed and let her arm drop. "Fair point," she conceded. If she were honest with herself, she should have seen this coming. After all, Solas knew more than anyone how impossible it was to keep Taryn still for more than a few moments, let alone several hours. Painting her would be an undertaking more challenging than sealing the Breach itself.
"If it helps," Solas spoke up from beside her, the corner of his lips twitching upwards in amusement, "you made for excellent company through the whole process."
Taryn let out a laugh, smiling back at the elf before her eyes flitted towards the painting. "Well," she spoke, "I suppose it is a really nice painting."