Notes:
Hello! This is the first fanfiction I have written in a very, very, very long time. It was quite cathartic to be back in it, so I hope (if anyone reads this) that you enjoy!
I decided to write the sex scene we deserved before Solas absolutely destroys our heart and breaks our soul into a million tiny pieces. This sex scene bleeds into the scene right before he asks us to go with him and he can remove the vallaslin and all that jazz. I really just wanted an excuse to get Solas into bed. You'll probably notice the dialogue from the game towards the end, just to lead into the break up properly.
I've also added the Elvish translation in the bottom note, just so everything I say is somewhat clear. (I used a dragon age elvish translator, don't judge me)
I hope someone out there enjoys this, as much as I love the dreadwolf.
Lots of love!
She had not seen him for hours. Not since they had returned from the Temple of Mythal and all the consequences of their actions were still coming to fruition. More as the hours went by. It worried her, of course. But she could only focus on one emerging issue at a time. And now, her focus would be on Solas.
Solas was a lone wolf, but he always had something to say. She had expected him to lecture her, to inform her of the fracture she put between her and the old elves. Even a dullard lesson on the Well of Sorrows would've been welcomed.
But he had simply fallen into himself. Again.
She knew he'd be in his office at Skyhold, where he already spent so much of his time. Meditating, perhaps. Or painting a new mural on the walls. But of course, she had forgotten the most obvious of the choices. That he'd be sitting at his desk with a large book in his hands.
He didn't look up when she walked in, engrossed in the pages of the black grimoire. His brows were knit together tight in dissatisfaction and she wondered where his mind was at that moment. What far away place the ancient text had carried him to this time.
"What troubles you, Somniari?"
She watched him carefully, but he did not show any sign of surprise that she was there.
"Do I seem troubled?" He says mindlessly, flipping through the pages.
"More troubled than usual, yes."
"Hmm."
"Solas," she sighed his name, leaning her body against the side of his desk. She was not above begging him to look at her, if she must.
He took a moment, then shut the book, his scenic mix of gray and violet eyes moving from concentrated to soft as he looked upon her. Despite the many times she had been captured beneath his mystifying gaze, her stomach never ceased the fluttering.
She moved along the desk, traveling until she was leaning in front of his seated figure, covering the grimoire with her body. "Talk to me. Tell me what's wrong."
He laughed lightly. "Am I so easy to read?" She sensed something heavy in his words but did not want to unravel it. "I thought I had mastered the art of being a mysterious and secretive bald elfy arse."
"Sera?" Lavellan smiled slightly.
"Of course."
She let out a quiet chuckle. "She's not wrong. You have certainly mastered it. " He raised an eyebrow. "The mystery, that is."
He cocked his head. "To all but you, it seems."
Her heart jumped, enjoying the implication of being the one who could read him best, despite the countless moments she felt that he was still holding back. She wished that he would tell her what was bothering him now. To have him yell at her would even be a greater blessing. If he thought she made a mistake at the Well, she wanted to know about it. She respected few people more than him and his knowledge was always an asset. "So you admit it then. I can practically see your racing thoughts, Solas.."
He stared at her softly, and not for the first time did she wish she could peel back the layers of his gaze and understand the meaning behind the words he would not say. What secrets he wanted to give her that his mouth would not allow. She would be a fool if she thought Solas was nothing but an honest man. But they all had secrets. Every member of the Inquisition had things they'd die for, things they'd kill for. He was no exception, no matter how many times she wished it weren't so.
"It is nothing, Vhenan." His hand reached out for her, cupping the back of her thigh in a gentle, affectionate touch. The pant leg cusped tight in his grasp. She relished the feeling. He was not a man who gave into his physical desires, even towards the one he called his heart.
Her hands moved to trace the smooth, transcendent lines of his face. "Are we not beyond deceiving each other? Especially now?"
Now, when the world was so close to ending. When everything may cease to exist in the coming days.
She watched a flash of shame cover his face, so swiftly gone that she wasn't even sure it had happened at all. His hand caressed her leg vacuously but his gaze remained fixed to the floor, deep in thought. "There are so many things to vex about, Inquisitor. The rift. Corypheus. Keeping you alive. Safe. Are we not beyond these little intricacies?"
He had a point and yet. "You can be a very frustrating man."
He gave her a small smile, breaking the concealed tension he was carrying, if only slightly. She liked when he smiled and it simply did not happen enough. "Is there something else I can help you with? Or have you just come to sit on my book and distract me with your womanly wiles?"
"Depends. Do you prefer the book or the wiles?"
His appreciative eyes roamed over her, starting from the bottom all the way back to her knowing gaze. Her casual garments left much to the imagination and she wasn't wearing anything particularly seductive, nor had she been planning on doing any seducing. She had come here to relieve him of his quiet enmity and perhaps let herself express the way she truly felt, before it was too late.
But with the way his eyes traveled along her body, perhaps it was time to rethink the ways she could do that.
"I am sure you are perfectly aware of which I prefer," His unique elven accent was deeper when he replied, causing a sweet ripple in her belly.
"It's the book, isn't it?"
He slanted his eyes at her, shaking his head while standing from his chair. She glanced up, a small grin on her face as his lean body towered over her, catching her chin in between his fingers. "It is not the book."
"I don't know whether I should believe you."
"No?" he said, moving closer, so close that their lips were only a breath away. "And why ever not?"
"I've seen the way you treat it, Solas. The way you flip the pages. The affection in your eyes when you roam over paragraphs. The way your fingers crawl and caress those dusty spines."
She said the words slowly, so slowly, arching her back as his long fingers began to dance along the smooth ridges of her own spine.
"Are you perhaps jealous, esteemed Inquisitor, of a book?"
"Very much so," she stated, allowing him to push her back slightly so she was seated completely on his desk. Their gazes stayed confined as one, melting into each other in a silent yearn.
"Don't be," he replied, his teasing smile tangled mercilessly with his inane serious expression. A contradiction in a way only Solas could manage. He moved her hair out of her face, tucking it gently behind her ear and whispered, "my heart only belongs to one."
Despite being so polished in battle or obtusely careful in deliberating politics, she resented that had little mastery over the racing of her elven heart when he said such things.
"You should probably kiss me," she murmured, tilting her face up to try and do just that.
"Should I?"
"Mhm."
He smiled and instead of pressing his lips against hers, he moved his face down to the exposed skin of her collarbone, pushing away the linen to make room for his mouth to nibble, to bite, to tease her with the promise of said kiss.
"Not fair," she stuttered, the words shaking like a sinner's prayer. "You…I…I can't think when you do that."
"Careful, Vhenan." He whispered against her neck, moving her hair behind her shoulder to expose the skin there too. "You show your weaknesses far too easily."
She hummed and clutched him tight between her thighs, leaning back to allow him to kiss the veins in her throat. "Will you use it against me?"
"Of course. The world must know how easily the Inquisitor crumbles beneath my touch," he replied, roaming his hands over her covered chest. Slowly his fingers worked on a button, popping them off one by one until her chemise was completely removed from her body, leaving her chest exposed. Her nipples peaked at the cold air. "Or how her breathing increases when I kiss her breasts," he said, doing the very motion he claimed, taking the flesh between his teeth and sucking gently. "And how wet she gets when I touch her here."
She whimpered as he continued his work on her body and when she felt him at the lowest part of her, the part that was craving him the most, she opened her thighs, still clad in her leisure trousers. She leaned back on the desk to allow him to unbutton them and slip them down her legs, disregarding them along with her crumpled shirt.
A part of her recognized how completely and utterly foolish this was. So open in Skyhold, right in Solas' observatory; with only his paintings scattered along the walls and not a lock in sight. Varric was merely feet away from them, likely beating Blackwell in a game of Wicked Grace right outside the door. She knew that anyone could walk in. Anyone.
And yet…
She couldn't bring herself to stop him. She'd done riskier things than this, hadn't she? And he was giving her something she had never fully had. A piece that he shared with no one else. Himself. Whether it was in the form of his words in conversation, or in his cautious touch, she wanted it all.
Her thoughts dissolved while Solas continued kissing down her now naked body. She pushed herself up onto her elbows to watch him, letting her thighs fall open as he made it to the place she languished with hunger. He put his hands on her legs, keeping her steadily spread, licking his lips as he stared at her exposed flesh.
"Glistening," he muttered, mostly to himself, in his habitual, erudite way. "As suspected."
"Feel free to write down all your findings after you—"
She cut herself off when he put his mouth between her legs, licking and sucking the sensitive area with such astounding precision, she almost laughed. Almost. If it hadn't felt so unbelievably euphoric. His tongue lapped her up, hitting the pulsing spots with such a deep stroke, her head fell back with a determined groan, thumping his forgotten book below.
This was…there were simply no words to conjure enough meaning. She knew he did not give this easily but gods, how she took.
Solas' large fingers caressed her and when she felt them probe slightly at her entrance, her body shuddered in greedy anticipation. One finger. Then a second finger. His tongue. His words murmured in elvish against her body. That was all it took for the trembling to start in her legs, which were hooked over his shoulders. She cried as the gratification moved rapidly to her core and she held onto him as he rode out the wave with her, letting her plead and scratch until she was completely satiated beneath his fingers and tongue.
Her climax was impeccably perfect and Solas stared up at her from his position, eyes half closed with a dangerous craving for more. She was confident that she had never seen anything so inviolable in her entire existence.
"Delicious," he teased, giving her one last, arduous lick, having her sensitively jerk beneath him.
"Solas? Have you seen—"
Cassandra's voice broke through the barrier of their intimacy and with a hearty squeal, Lavellan pushed Solas away from her and crumbled to the ground behind the desk, hiding like a child ready to be scolded. Solas remained calm, of course, giving Cassandra a look of impassivity, even with the wet shine of their previous actions on his chin.
"Andraste above!" Came Cassandra's roar. "My eyes! Varric! Why did you tell me to go in there! You knew what was happening you idiotic—" The door slammed shut.
Levallan laid on the floor, bare, shutting her eyes and rubbing her temple. Cassandra's scolding voice was no doubt loud enough to wake all of Skyhold. Of all the people, she would not have chosen the Seeker to be the one to find them in such a compromising position. And it burned her even more that Varric had been listening in. The depraved dwarf.
"I am sure she will be fine," Solas said, reaching down to pick her up off the floor, his face neither embarrassed nor annoyed.
"And I'm sure I'll hear about it later. In a very long lecture about public indecency ," she muttered, allowing him to lift her and comfortingly wrap her forgotten clothing around her. She pressed against him as he dressed her, feeling his still growing hardness pressed against her hip, reminding her that she had not gotten a taste of Solas just yet.
Despite the misfortune, her eyes flicked down to his lap, her mind rushing with the idea of touching him too. When was the last time Solas felt exuberant bliss, like she just had? Maybe it was something that would ease the battle he was fighting within. It would be all to easy to just bend down and—
"Don't even think about it, Inquisitor," he chuckled, reading her ease that scared her. "There will be no more public showings for Varric to gather more ideas for his next novel."
"But you're still…I mean I still want to…" She trailed off, looking for a way to angle her desire for him in a way that said: if you don't get inside me in the next few minutes, I might as well let Corpyhus kill me because the thought of not being with you for one more moment is excruciating.
"Inquisitor," Solas said, pulling her out of her own head.
"Mm?"
"I will meet you in your room."
There was a beat before a grin split her face and she nearly sprinted through the door, stopping briefly in the hallway where she passed a traumatized looking Cassandra and a smug, giggling Varric, whose quill seemed to be working at quite a timely speed. Ink marked the parchment messily as his new story came to life. Cassandra continued to look at the floor as she approached, a mug of ale in her hand, whereas her dwarf friend's face glanced up in full maniacal glee.
"Inquisitor! Tell me, would you describe Chuckles as a soft lover or more of a demon destroyer?"
Lavellan promptly reached over and took Varric's feather quill, breaking it in half. Varric whined, but she ignored him, surging by her throne and up the stairs to her empty bedchambers.
Since being at Skyhold, and on the off chance she was allowed some semblance of sleep, her room had remained vacant of company. There were no bodies to keep her warm in the chilly mountain nights, despite the overwhelming opportunity around the castle grounds. She would never admit it aloud, but Solas had captured her from the very second they had met. Her mind had not strayed from the mage, not for one moment. Their first kiss, their first real kiss, still made her body hum when she thought of it.
It had always been him.
Perhaps that made her defenseless or idiotic. But with the world ending, she was tired of denying that she wanted to spend a few moments with her mage.
"Vhenan?"
She took a moment to observe him as he became visible from the staircase. He smiled at her and for one fleeting moment, in the basking yellow moonlight, he reminded her of a cunning, dangerous wolf. She found herself at a new loss. How could someone describe such beauty of an ethereal being in simple, mundane words?
"You came."
She has only been sitting on her bed for ten minutes or so, lost in thought.
"Did you think I would not?"
"Sometimes I don't know what to think of you, Somniari."
He gave her another smile, but this one was melancholic. "Think only of now."
He approached her, prowling, as he reached the end of the bed where she was sprawled out. His eyebrow rose, observing the garments that remained on her body.
"I'd very much like to see your clothes off again, inquisitor."
"As I'd very much like to see yours off."
He chuckled and did just that. Hooking his fingers into his pale tunic, he pulled it off his body and revealed himself to her. He had gotten more muscular over the last months, his body defined in places it had not been in Haven, and she felt vertiginous knowing that she had a hand in it. Dragging him all over the different regions on foot had its positives, clearly.
"You are a very beautiful man, Solas."
He chuckled, shaking his head. "You might be the only one to think that, Inquisitor."
"I doubt it," she replied. "Don't let Sera's words get in your head."
He grimaced. "Let's not discuss Sera while I am in the midst of removing my clothes, please."
She laughed and grabbed at her clothes too, discarding them easily on her floor. Now they both remained naked, open and barren. Her eyes were doing everything they could to look at his mesmerizing face and not the swelling member between his legs.
Still, it was impressive.
She reached out to grab him, pulling him on top of her with ease. She kissed his cheek, his forehead, then his nose before his meeting lips. He smelled of books and tasted spices.
He pulled back after a few moments, unmoving between her legs, watching her through wistful eyes.
"It has been a long time, Vhenan," he said longingly as he rested his forehead on hers. "A very long time."
She kissed the side of his jaw, her hand following a simple path down the nakedness of his back, feeling the smoothness, the rawness, the newfound muscled strength. She couldn't help but tease him, keeping a lightness to balance out the fervor. Vulnerability was not her strong suit. "You still remember how it works, don't you?"
He did not find her amusing in the slightest and covered her laugh with a sharpened kiss. He hovered over her, pushing her legs further apart. She moaned at the slight contact of feeling him completely and utterly there. This time with his hardness pushing against her in lue of his fingers. It was disorienting.
"Solas." she whispered and all the humor had lessened with his flaming touch. "Sathan."
His hips moved forward. Slowly. Deliberately. She could feel every part of him, every ripple across his back as he strained himself inside her. She was replete, tight to the brink of an explosion, even though he remained unmoving.
"Ma sildeara aron tarasyl," he groaned and his proper elvish sounded strained. Like he wished the words would stay where they were instead of burning like a confession. "Can you take more?"
She viciously nodded, not realizing that he wasn't fully situated inside her yet. Gods, he was big. She raised her hips slightly, opening herself to let all of him in at once. With a swift movement, he surged his hips forward and sheathed himself completely, right to the brim of her. She cried out, completely lost in the new sensation of intrusion, the pain mixing with pleasure as her body welcomed the entire extent of his cock.
She swore in her own strained elvish now, followed by a few choice words in Qunari that Iron Bull had once kindly taught her, and grabbed the back of her headboard above, squeezing the Orlesian wood between her fingers.
"Hamina," he said, holding her hips tightly. His large hand gripped the sides of her while keeping her still below him as he kissed her jaw, her nose, her cheeks. "Relax, my love."
"I feel…so full," she whispered, her hands moving to grab her breasts to relieve the pressure in some part of her body, the only part that she had current access to. He followed her hands with his eyes, leaning down to take a nipple into his mouth and bite the soft flesh gently. She cried out, her body releasing all tenseness, and he took that opportunity to begin to pound into her hastily.
"Solas!" She screamed, her body completing submitting to the elf's advances. She felt herself give way, releasing any control of the situation, which was so unlike herself, and he took the lead easily. Like it was what he was meant to do.
"Look at you. At us." She followed his instructions, watching their bodies connect, balking at the way his cock moved in and out of her rapidly. The pain was gone, and only the slapping of flesh, the mingling of breath, the moans and groans riling between them, existed now.
It was unlike anything she had ever experienced with anyone else. She had never felt so close to another soul and she knew, without any semblance of a doubt, her love dwelled within him.
"You are so tight," he murmured softly, as if it was against his better judgment. Even through her lusting haze, she could appreciate that Solas, the proper and academic mage, was losing bits of his own control.
"Faster," she prompted, clawing at his back. "Harder. Rougher. Anything, Solas. I just need more."
With a knowing grunt, he took his arm and put it under her arching back, flipping her easily so she was now on her knees on the bed. Before she could say a word, he was back inside of her, fucking her, marking her, pushing her towards the headboard so fiercely in an act of punishing desire.
"Gods above," she cried out and then yelped in surprise when she felt his hand come down and slap her right cheek. Her body was like lightning, zapping up the pain and pleasure.
"Again," she whimpered, holding onto the wood as he impaled her. "Do that again."
"As you command, Inquisitor," he said, his voice low and dangerous as his hand came down, marking her other cheek with a reddening handprint, before doing it again and again on both sides. "Look how red it's getting, love. Look how I'm marking you. It's fascinating."
Her bottom was burning, her stomach was clenching, her mind was slipping further and further away into a state of raving ecstasy.
"The great and mighty leader of the Inquisition," Solas grunted, caressing the spots he had slapped and yet keeping his thrusts rapid and true. "On her knees for me."
She could have wept at his words, at the feeling that was building up inside her because of them. She pictured it, pictured what her friends would think, being ravaged by her lover like this. The leader they respected, on her knees for her surreptitious elf.
"S-Solas. I'm going to…"
"Finish, Vhenan. Come all over my cock."
Those filthy words falling from his lips pushed her into the beyond. Her scream was endless. He continued his impounding thrusts, ensuring that every inch of her body was hit with his touch. He felt the strength leave her and he held her body up by wrapping his fingers around her neck, capturing her to let her feel what he could do to her. Her back curved and her legs shaking and her body continued exploding into a million tiny fragments. She reached back to hold on to her lover, trying to catch her breath while simultaneously ensuring that he was still there with her.
Solas' body slowed for a moment, letting her ease down from her high without the assaulting pressure of his hips. She was beautiful. It ached in his chest. He met her hand and lovingly caressed her fingers, her wrists, and stopped there to feel her pulse beneath her veins. He wanted to count the beats, see how fast her heart worked for him when she was in this imminence.
"I'm afraid I've made a mistake, Inquisitor," he said, and Lavellan's stomach rolled, anxiety now imposing on her still orgasmic being. She turned her head towards him, her chest heaving with a breath her body refused to catch. "I should very much like to watch your face the next time you come."
Relief shuddered through her and she turned around to clutch at him, pushing him back to climb onto his lap. His hardness had no relief, and was still prevalent, still ready, and now shiny with her moistness. The bedding was tangled up around their limbs and sweat was dripping heartily from their skin, but she made sure to connect their bodies once more for fear of dying without it. She needed him. He was surrounding her, oozing into her blood, and she was not ready for him to be gone from her reach. Not when she could not predict what the morning would bring. None of them knew if they'd survive the coming days. This might be the last time they were like this. The only time she'd ever get to fully have him.
"That's two for me." She whispered, though her voice was harsh and raw. "Your turn."
She slowly opened her thighs and sunk down on his erect cock, taking him into her still pulsating core.
"Tarasyl," he gasped, his hands going up to her hips to help guide her down onto him. Slowly, so they could both savor the way it felt as he stretched her again. She wasn't sure she'd ever get used to it. "Ma' tarasyl."
She completely impaled herself on his lap, leaning her head on his collarbone until he tangled his fingers in her hair and lifted her head up, pressing his lips against hers.
The kiss had all the elements of their love making. Heat. Passion. Ferocity. She infused herself in the feeling of it, not pulling away from his mouth as she started to move her hips, riding him tediously. She felt an addiction to him, to his taste, and she thought; this must be what they feel when templars are overcome with Red Lyrium. Closer to the Gods.
"Beautiful," he muttered into her mouth, meeting her movements with his own, hitting so far into her, there were black stars in her vision. "Ride me faster. Use me. Take your pleasure, Vhenan."
"I can't," she whispered, leaning down and biting the flesh of his shoulder. Her teeth marks settled into his white flesh, marking him like he was marking her soul. "I can't do it again, Solas. I'll break."
"Nothing can break you," he replied and she pulled back to catch his fevered eyes. She wanted to see the sincereness in his gaze, as she had heard it in his voice. She didn't know if she believed that, but she was happy knowing someone in her life thought so. She wasn't sure of any of it, really. Of winning this war, of fighting Corphyus. Of getting her people to the end, alive, unharmed. Of saving this damned world.
But he was. She could see it in his gaze. He, at the very least, believed she could do something in this world.
Her lips met his and she moved her hips faster, letting him wrap his arms around her back to restrain her closer to his chest, her breasts pressed tightly to him. She couldn't move, not that she would want to, and she let him meet her efforts, his cock slamming up into her as she bounced down the same way.
"Solas…you're too deep," she groaned against his lips. "I can feel you everywhere."
"Good. Feel me, Lavellan. Let me take it all."
The pressure was building in her stomach again, burning, while her body was still tired from the multitude of orgasms that had hit her prior. Yet it started again, only this time, she could hear the wetness between their bodies growing louder, the sound filing in between the passionate groans and the whispers of affection. He was hitting something inside of her, and she could feel the consequences of doing so coming to fruition.
"Solas I'm…I'm—"
"Let go, Vhenan."
At his final thrust up, her orgasm blew through her body and she screamed louder than she had before, her entire body letting go and her eyes rolled back inside her head. The wetness gushed around both of their connected bodies, soaking the bedding. She couldn't control the shaking of her legs around him. He swore, his guttural grunts becoming louder in her ear. His movements jerked forward, and she knew he was close to finishing too. He had to be—she wasn't sure her body would be able to keep up anymore and she wanted him to feel the orgasmic rapture that ensnared her.
Levallan had fought demons, monsters and aspiring gods, but her body had never been ravaged quite like this. Her mind was halfway to the Fade when she finally felt him empty himself inside of her, holding her tight as he stuffed her over and over again, filling her with his seed.
"Solas," she hissed, her nails clawing at his back, her thighs opening wider as she let him give her everything he had. He jolted through his own completion, clutching at her like she was the air he was trying to get back into his lungs. His state was erratic, satiated, and it took more than a few, blissful moments for the two of them to come back to a conscious state of being.
Still connected, they looked at each other, their eyes wide, the bed a mess, their thoughts just as convolutedly tangled in the web of elation they just weaved. She could feel him leaking out of her, staining her thighs, even though they remained as one.
"Wow," Levallan croaked. She noted the redness in his cheeks and the sweat shining from his brow and she promised herself that she would never forget the sight of him so unguarded.
"I…concur," he replied, his voice deep and dry. "That was…"
She smiled against his chest. Unusual for Solas, the all knowing and opinionated mage, to be at a loss for words. "It was."
He kissed her collarbone softly and the motion caused her body to have the opposite reaction to the fiery, erotic passion from moments ago. This one only made her feel safe. Content to be in his arms.
He pulled out of her and brought her to his chest. "Sleep, Vhenan. You will need all your strength for tomorrow."
Tomorrow?
She didn't question what he meant. She was too tired. To satiated. She'd think about it in the morning.
It didn't take long before she was softly dreaming in his arms.
Lavellan woke in the night, alone. She knew the bed was empty. She had been so used to the way it felt. She turned over, seeing the imprint of Solas' body, and then towards the windows where the darkness painted the sky outside. It couldn't have been more than a few hours of rest she'd taken, given the movement of the moon.
She turned and moved off her bed, grabbing a tunic hanging on a chair and putting it on quickly.
Something felt different.
Where was he?
She walked down the stairs, looking around the empty front hall. It was wholly quiet now, most people had taken to their beds. The only sounds were the birds taking flight from the castle towers. She moved down the hall, seeing an orange light coming from Solas' room. She made her way towards it, though her stomach shared an uneasiness with her mind.
Solas was standing in the candlelight, deep in thought, bent over his desk. It was as if he had not moved from hours ago, as if nothing had happened between them, and he was still silently fretting over something consequentially important. He wore his same tunic, still polished and clean, and she tried to remember desperately what his face had looked like unguarded and flushed from the moments they laid in bed. She knew she would likely not see it again.
"Solas?" He looked up, blinking at her with a strange expression. He ran a hand over his face, rubbing away the sleepless lines that had formed.
"I…I'm sorry for leaving," he said. "I just needed time to think."
"About what?" She asked, frustrated that they were back to this. To him sneaking away, keeping himself locked in his room and fretting over things he could not control. Like the last few hours has been merely a dream and he was right back to his reticent ways, unbothered by how that hurt her.
Solas stood, his back straightening as he walked over to where she stood. He opened his mouth, then shut it, contemplating his words carefully. "You…you have not been what I expected, Inquisitor. You have…impressed me."
She raised an eyebrow. She hadn't been expecting that.
He took a moment before continuing, not breaking eye contact. "Forgive my melancholy. Corypheus has cost us much. The temple of Mythal did not deserve such a fate. The orb he carries, and its stolen power…that at least we may still recover. With luck, some of the past may yet survive."
He reached up then and touched her vallaslin with a light finger, tracing the tattoo somberly. He had never paid much attention to it before, but his gaze would certainly not leave it now. She didn't know what to say to that, what he wanted her to say to that, but before she could respond in the slightest, he grabbed her hand softly and said;
"Come with me, Vhenan."
End Notes:
Elvish Translations:
Somniari - Dreamer
Vhenan - My Heart/Heart
Ma sildeara aron tarasyl - You feel like heaven
Hamina - Relax
Tarasyl/Ma' tarasyl. - Heaven/My heaven
I'm also thinking about doing a second part called After the Wolf Bites that happens during Trespasser, but we shall see.
Thanks so much for reading. It means a lot, you have no idea :)