Shame, that he was only an amateur.
Heartburn required shrewd, expert extinguishment. It was prudent to dampen even the smallest embers, least they take and the whole mess ignite anew. Water would have been preferable, but the flow of crisp, crystalline amber and a few dribbles of sweet rosé drowned out the fiery demons just as well.
The sharp tie around his neck felt at once too snug. He pulled the knot loose and the hardest button below joined for relief from the heat. Be it the summer's lingering swelter, or the influx of wine, or the embarrassment he refused to confront, there was nothing more insufferable than being encased in double-breasted, unspun, raw silk that breathed as well as wool, and left to cook in it.
Fainting in the basement from the fumes and his own exhaustion, beside an open container of potentially lethal lyrium no less, had certainly not been the most impressive feat to earn attentions with. Combined with the frightful stunt in the catacombs, the accidents had done little more than destroy any and all of the confidence he'd managed before. How much more pitiful he'd appear now if she saw him, drinking in the mute company of noxious gardenias and unfeeling stone figures.
He had no room or right to be upset with her choices. Still, it didn't leave him feeling any less defeated or outclassed.
Was it the intoned, practically dripping offers that had left him so abashed, or was it simply the surplus of glorious hair and a rich tan...
What did he have to compare, to compete, besides having height enough to tower over most. Being filled to the brim with barely governed anxiety and obsessed with an invisible realm must make him the ultimate catch.
Contemptuous offers of assistance were only making matters worse.
'I did all in my power, dear friend, and you still managed to lose your lady. Splendid. At least I won't be the only one going home forlorn. Maybe a ghost will keep us both company tonight.'
Solas emptied the last from a bottle looted brazenly from the tipsy Tevinter who had teased him in harsh jest. He'd left Dorian in a delirious lounge across a garden fountain's broad edge, coat tails floating in the pool. Giggling to the guests who'd joined him for a moment of fresh air and star gazing. His newest acquaintance lay in a snoring stupor on the grass, more apt at holding the tray than the liquor atop it.
Tucked between ornamental statues, Solas leaned in a brace against the wall and resigned to what he always ended up doing. Watching the world waltz by in its endless and ever predictable patterns. A humdrum, monotonous pastime he'd become all too proficient in over the years.
The woman dipped in strands of silver, who shimmied and shimmered with every slow draw of her long cigarette. She'd tap the ash out in the dish on the table. Glance at the red ring left on the paper. Then she'll roll her eyes as her friend steals a drag. Snickers pierced the smoke ring and he moved on to the next cluster of unassuming party-goers.
A ring of resplendent dwarves playing cards, adding in their coin without seeing the tell-tale rub of a nose from a bearded gent that portended his next influx of minor wealth. There would be grumbling and cries of trickery as the deck was dealt again while pockets were loaded with gold.
All was in good fun, but not everyone in the garden was behaving as stupendously and with such ease.
Though maturity usually came accompanied by grace and virtue, some came of age unbestowed.
A crooning, southerly visitor more than old enough to recognize when he wasn't wanted. He'd try to dance and dodge around a turned back to the amusement of the lady's entourage. Ignoring every dodging, cold shoulder and hard stare. Annoyed, the woman would attempt to leave with the group and he'd still be bold enough to grab. An arm if he could be somewhat civil or perhaps the lech- His hunch was solidified with a crisp slap.
These aimless happenings, wont and uninspired, almost ritual in their settings. Creatures of habit that he held no exemption from, merely in his own manner.
The drained cup in his hand found its resting place on the stone lip of a sculpture's base, and with his thumbs and forefingers, Solas fashioned the square through which he viewed society. Always at a distance and through layers of glass.
And it seemed the wine had skewed his focus. The makeshift lens caught the slow sway of golden beads that flowed with the comfortable motion of a sauntering hip. She was certainly pleased and relaxed, humming a tune to the timing of her own steps. Chiyo's initial beam grew smug when she spotted him.
"Bored, hmm? I couldn't have been gone that long." Was the humidity to blame for turning her curls completely wild or had there been fingers run vigorously through it. And what had left her skin so freshly flush, her eyes burningly bright at this near midnight hour?
"Did you miss me?" A light laugh ensued as he dropped the gesture and waited for the blurry haze in his vision to settle.
Yes. Solas nudged the empty bottle on the ground deeper into the nearest bush with his heel, but he wobbled on the one leg. "I was beginning to think you'd forgotten our purpose here tonight."
"Looks to me like I wasn't the only one having a bit of fun." Chiyo held up a hand when he labored to regain his stance. "You should have stuck around. I'm sure it would have been even more amusing to watch."
To watch what, exactly? If his first instincts about her always proved false- Certainly it didn't mean- She couldn't have possibly… Solas went stiff, or at least close to it in his state, what with the floor beneath him tilting rather hard to the left.
"Do… do you need to sit down?" Maybe he'd gone cross-eyed, but her joking nature shifted into cosseted concern as she took hold of his arm, linking it in her own. "Come with me, I could use a rest too. These shoes are killing my toes."
The stars above spun in their black sockets and the passing faces churned to obscure smears. Solas shielded his gaze while he was escorted back into the discordant throng of a party minutes before it's awaited climax. A gathering bell chimed and echoed through the halls as the blinding lights began to dim. They were not heading in the direction of the ballroom, but against the tide entirely and back to the quiet hall with its chambers left open for any to use.
Deposited into a chair unceremoniously and given a glass of cool water, the darkened sectional room with its low burning candles continued to twirl.
"Well, tonight hasn't been a complete bust yet." Chiyo stretched, using the plush arm of the seat to support herself as she unbuckled her shoes. "I did learn a thing or two from Mr. Arainai. Quite the wealth of knowledge for something so spur of the moment."
Her tormenting inferences breathed life over a few sparks left dry beneath his soggy mood.
"Was that before or after he got dressed?" Solas swallowed the rest of his unpoised words with the lemon-imbibed drink and immediately wished them recalled back to whatever dark corner they'd slunk from.
Her brow came together low and hard over a narrowed glare, but her lips curled into a baleful smile.
Slowly, she leaned over at the waist across the chair and with nimble fingers Chiyo coaxed from his collar the length of an undone tie in a leisurely tug. Solas tilted forward with the sedated pull, the lids of his eyes already heavy and drooping even as her knuckles ran the fabric across his jaw.
"Before. But it was after the orgy for sure."
The glass he'd brought up to his parted mouth slipped, spilling down the front of his shirt.
Her laugh sounded more like the clatter of proverbial game pieces scattering onto the floor.
Chiyo cackled until she ran out of air and massaged at her sides, trying to catch her breath. With a swift shake of each leg, she kicked her heels towards the pillow encumbered daybed centered in the room.
"Forgive me, that was so crass. But it was too funny a thought not to share. The look on your face. Camera worthy." Her hands remained against her ribs where she tugged at the edge of some source of discomfort. "Oh, this hurts."
Dark on the thin fabric, half way down her back, Solas spotted a blotch of deep red stained the beaded tabard as she walked away. It shook him from the stunned silence that had over-ridden his senses.
"Your dress. There's something on it." He shrugged out of the damp jacket to be left in a crumple over the armrest.
"What, are you kidding me?" Chiyo inspected the front from neckline to fringe. She pulled the shoulder around for a quick peek and groaned at the sight. "Why. Why can't I have anything nice for once."
"Please..." With a yank, she lifted the outer shell over her mess of hair and examined the burgundy streak. Into the pitcher of ice and lemon slices, she dipped a napkin and dabbed the delicate material. "Tell me this isn't blood."
"Blood? Why would you be bleeding. Did someone hurt you?" The questions came up in blurts as she turned her back, revealing even more of the mess on the lighter inner slip. It took him less than a bumbling moment to find his feet and little more to cross the room, though not without tripping.
"No. I do a good enough job of that myself, wouldn't you say." She grumbled, working as gently as she could around the fine, seed-sized beads, but the color wouldn't budge. "And remember back to when I said you were lucky? Pants and suits don't come with metal stays stabbing you all night and crushing your ribs. Ladies aren't supposed to breathe, apparently."
"Why would you subject yourself to that kind of torture?" She jumped in her skin when his hand found her bare back and the worried touch was immediately withdrawn.
"If I answered that we'd be here till dawn talking about the injustices in the history of women's fashion… Just…" Chiyo took a deep breath and stood straight, utterly still. "Look for a cut or something. Maybe this is an assassination attempt. Aren't there legends of spies so fast you don't even feel the attack happen and then, wham! Poison gets you a few hours later with the killer safe and sound, miles away?"
"Again, you read too much. Besides. They'd used arsenic in your case. It's simpler to taint food." One cautious finger slipped into the narrow gap between the fabric and her body. Peeling away the border of the slip from just beneath the bone of her shoulder revealed no breaks in the few extra inches of skin he could see, only a medieval-looking, discolored contraption tied snug around her figure.
"It might be beneath that... thing." His mind came up blank for the technical terms designated toward women's undergarments, items that were far from his usual scope of comprehension. "Can you take it off?"
Her shoulders shot near to her ears, striking the borrowed jewelry dangling from each. Solas saw the tips of her ears turn scarlet and could only imagine the shade that must be taking over her face. "I-I'm sorry, that was horribly inappropriate. There is surely someone else around here who could-"
"You'll have to help me with the top clasps. I can't undo that part myself. Then you will turn around and not say another word. Understand?" She passed off the weighty garment and threw down the wetted rag.
He was relieved only in that she didn't see the redness that had spread over his own features before Chiyo rolled the second stained slip up and over her head.
"So, these metal pieces…" He'd never done this before. But which would be more shameful? Admitting that fact or lying about it?
"Pull them together and they should come apart. I think..."
Solas' palms dampened and his fingers timidly reached for the brassy fixtures as the untold weight of the years suddenly crashed around him.
How many had it been, since he'd been this physically near to someone, or even entertained the possibility of… Oh dear.
Five, ten, fifteen, a hundred? Did he even truly know beyond that he must have been young and fool-headedly ardent at some stage of his life. But had the girls he'd fancied then ever adorned such complicated monstrosities? Memory had faded much of those brief encounters to guesses of names and vague faces, the details of clothes were long gone.
The first one snapped open after a few tries, but the pressure on the second made him struggle. It took the strength of both his arms to set her loose. Though perhaps it would have been easier if he weren't so fixated on making a quick study of the fine shape of an exposed spine before having to look away as he'd been ordered.
Buckles of garter straps popped and elastic snapped. He listened while she twisted and struggled and wrenched her way through the taut back laces. It was several minutes of garbled insults before the lined, riveted, and boned contraption struck the floor. A deep sigh of relief escaped her rescued lungs.
"I'm going to burn this like the piece of trash it is." She stomped the stretchy apparatus and gave it a more than deserved kick across the floor towards the empty fireplace. "Let's make it quick, please… Wait a second. This… this doesn't smell like blood. Did someone spill wine on me?"
But it was as he peeked to see the last, clean, lacy slip hanging from thin straps off her back that they both sprung at the sound of the sitting room door banging open. The shuffle of tripping feet and gasping giggles broke the relative quiet and sent them scurrying.
"Someone will catch us!" A female voice squealed.
"Hide!" A hissed and desperate demand met his ear. Clutching the silkier dress to her chest with one hand Chiyo pushed him with the other towards the nearby lacquered wardrobe. Before he could even protest, she ripped the narrow set of doors open and shoved him a second time, forcing his lanky limbs to fold before clambering inside the storage cabinet herself, over the top of him.
"See, there is no one in here. You're mine now."
"Move your leg." Chiyo mouthed the words more than she spoke them aloud. There wasn't width enough to bend his knee another inch, there wasn't even room for him to stand upright when her own head brushed the low ceiling. Solas had to use his arms to push his back into the wall and keep from sliding down into the narrow gap she'd wedged herself in atop the slippery dress that had dropped off his arm. Crammed into an awkward squat, the open gap remained half an inch from shutting.
He could just barely see the outline of a tangled couple blundering their way into the room and falling in a heap onto the pillowy bed, taking no obvious notice of the abandoned shoes by their feet or the coat on the chair.
"I've waited all night for this." A woman purred as her much stockier cohort knelt on the carpet and dove up into her skirts.
The following gasps and squeals quickly averted his stolen gaze. Solas stared at the shadowed face just an arm's reach from his own, already beet red, but a toe-curling moan left it scrunched as tight as the unfortunate press of both her legs straddling one of his.
"Quivering already? Mmm. My darling, long-legged pet, I've got just what you need. Only the finest for you will do. And it's come directly from Orzammar."
A snort escaped through Solas' nose that came with a threatening stare from the horrified writer trapped in the cupboard with him. Creaks from the mattress and a throaty groan required no other pretense, only a hope that the romp would be over with the same rush and gusto as it had begun.
"Oh yesss, Sorrel. Give me your Huge. Dwarven. Goods. Oh Maker! Yes!"
Her hand clamped over his mouth when he sucked in a breath that tried to break into a chortle.
Don't you dare. Chiyo's eyes punctuated the warning as they pled for mercy.
His whole body began to shake from the strain of their held position and the smothered stitches building up his sides. He'd no doubt of her ability to strangle him with the bowtie wrapped in her clutches, though his death would bring with it sweet, sweet revenge for her own wicked joke.
"You take the full might of my hammer so well, woman. But can you handle this? Ahhh..."
"Just keep it off my dress. Oh! OH! Sorrel, like that!"
She squirmed in unpreventable humiliation as wet slaps and delighted cries piercing the air changed abruptly to a disastrous shriek and several hard thuds. Bodies struck the floor and Solas glanced out to see a fuzzy dwarf with his pants pulled down and ankles grasped his hips dangle off the side of the bed in pursuit of his fallen lady.
But it became apparent that no change of scenery would deter the resolute fellow from his amorous pursuit. Right on he went, and Solas felt his chest heave with an unstoppable wave. Uncontested, it ranked as being one of the funniest things he'd ever seen and topped the list of the most ridiculous situations endured.
He closed his watering eyes and a second hand pressed over his quaking jaw when a few raspy wheezes slipped through her fingers.
Teeth opened against her palm, there was no more holding the laughter in.
For a split second as Chiyo's hands lifted their seal, he believed she'd either resigned to the fate of being caught by the intruders or was actually going to kill him. But the new purchase found on each side of his face brought forth something else entirely as she stretched up to reach him, with no lack of help boostered from the thigh beneath her.
Yet, he wholly forgot why he should care or what had even been so humorous in the first place as the misguided thoughts were seared away in a flash of lightning, sparked by lips that quickly let pass their original plight of desperation.
It seemed he would have to get used to always being wrong. An insult he'd be content to suffer.
So long as it felt this right.