#( honestly though it’d probably get taken out by solas )

[endawn]

still thinking about an inquisitor pax au but like it ain’t pax anymore

[himluv]

Excuses

It seems I’ve fallen slightly behind on my 14 Days of Dragon Age Lovers prompt fills. I’ll be rectifying that today, but as an apology, please accept the next oneshot in Riallan’s journey! This one is set directly after Heaven in Hiding. I hope you like it!

P.S. This one is slightly nsfw. Just a heads up.

Riallan knew it was a dream right away. It wasn’t that they were back in her favorite meadow outside Wycome, that was believable enough. As the weather grew warmer and warmer in the Frostbacks, heralding summer, her heart clamored for the coastal air and the warmth of lowland sun. She would go there now if she could.

It wasn’t that Solas was there, resting back on his palms on the riverbank, eyes closed and face upturned to the sun.  He was a feature in her daily life these days; it would be stranger if he wasn’t there with her.

No, what told her it was a dream was that she was sunbathing, stretched out on the bank in just her small clothes. She hadn’t done that since just after receiving her vallaslin, at first because the tattoos were sensitive to the sun, but then her duties as First had kept her busy. With her dedication to Dirthamen came increased responsibilities. She rarely had free time to just lay around.

“You’re very fond of this place,” Solas said. She looked up at him, smiled at how he looked everywhere but at her. She thought he must be warm in his usual tunic and leggings, but it was the Fade. Maybe he could just imagine the discomfort away.

“A lot happened in this meadow,” she said. His silence begged her to continue. “I found my magic here, during a summer storm.” It had been a terrifying experience, as if the lightning had barreled down from the sky and into her chest, only to explode out of her hands. But Deshanna had felt the swell of power and mitigated the damage.

“I kissed my first boy here,” she said, then laughed. “My first girl too, though that was a couple summers later.” She peered up at him to gauge his reaction to her revelation, but his expression held only warmth and appreciation. It seemed he liked hearing about her youth.

“As you know, I received my vallaslin here.”

A tentative brush of fingertips over her stomach made her breath catch.

Solas traced the bright green line of her vallaslin as it bisected her torso, passing through her belly button. “I did not realize the markings went beyond your face.” There was awe in his voice and something else, something almost sad.

She swallowed hard, struggling to find her words with his hand on her skin. “Few decide to mark more than their face,” she said.

“Why did you?”

“Honestly? Because Deshanna did, and I was desperate to prove I would be as good a Keeper as she was.” She chuckled. “A really stupid reason to withstand so much pain.”

“Do you regret it?” There was a weight to his gaze she didn’t understand, but she desperately wanted to remove it.

“No,” she said. “I like it. I like how it looks. But if I could make the decision again I wouldn’t get them at all.”

He cocked his head at her and let his palm splay across her stomach. “Why not?”

“The vallaslin prove nothing. They don’t prove devotion or status or respectability. That comes from our actions.” She laced her fingers through his, relishing such simple touch. “The type of Keeper I will be has nothing to do with how many hours I could bear the needle, or how much of my body I devoted to Dirthamen.” She shook her head. “Especially when it turns out he wasn’t worth honoring in the first place.”

He moved to lay beside her, on his side, propped up on one elbow. His hand stayed on her belly, warm and heavy and reassuring. “You’re angry.”

She shook her head. “No. Not really. Not anymore. I mostly just have questions.”

Riallan moved to mimic his posture, laying on her side, propped on an elbow, facing him. They were close now, closer than they would be if this were the waking world, she was certain. He was more casual here, less vigilant. He had said the Fade was easier for him, and his behavior here made it clear.

Solas’ touch was light but unafraid. His hand roamed from her ribs to her hip and back, brushing a lazy path along her skin. He watched her face, keen to be sure she approved of such a touch, but once it was clear she had no desire to stop him, he grew bolder.

He used her vallaslin as an excuse to touch more of her. He followed the line up from her belly button, through the valley of her sternum, and up her throat. It was the faintest, featherlight breath of sensation.

She bowed her neck to the side, inviting him to explore her jaw, and then her ear. She closed her eyes as he obliged her, her lips parted and breath coming fast. When he cupped her face in one hand, she opened her eyes to find a different kind of weight in his eyes.

That one she recognized, and she had no trouble returning the heat in kind.

He leaned toward her, just a fraction, a subtle submission. But he let her bridge the gap between them and press her lips to his.

It was a gentle kiss, slow and exploratory. Despite the fervor of their previous encounters, this was still new. They were still learning the intricacies of one another, the little preferences and tricks that made them unique.

Solas, for all his timidity leading up to the kiss, was not so hesitant once they’d begun. He wasn’t forceful, but his tongue did not ask questions. It offered answers, promises, hints. A gentle push into the heat of her mouth, eager to explore. A flick against her upper lip, suggestive of where else it might be put to use. That made her moan against his lips, and he chuckled.

“Felas, vhenan,” he said, the words little more than breath against her mouth. “We have time.”

She didn’t want to take their time. Hadn’t they taken enough already? She had wanted this, wanted him, since before they left Haven. It’d been months since they last kissed in the Fade, and while the kiss shared on the balcony had been all she could have hoped for, it was too brief to slake her desire for him.

But, she acquiesced. She let her pace fall back to match his, and did her best to revel in the taste and smells and sounds of him. That didn’t stop her hands from sneaking under his tunic in their desperation to feel his skin, however.

He hissed when her nails trailed over his stomach, and she thought he might pull back. She always worried she might cross some unknown boundary with him, that one moment they would be fine and the next he would take offense. But his hand found her hip and pulled her across the bank to press against him.

It was a natural thing to sling a leg over his hip as their tongues tangled. And then she was on top of him. His hand never left her hip, while his other found purchase at the back of her neck.

She moved against him and he shuddered beneath her. She didn’t care if this was only the Fade, if it was little better than a dream. She had imagined this for months.

“Vhenan,” he said. When she didn’t stop, he put his hands on her ribs, pushing her to sit up. “Ria.”

She felt flushed, as if every inch of her skin was covered in a deep blush. She sat astride him, her hand on his neck. “What? What’s wrong?” She panted, which was suddenly embarrassing.

He shook his head. “I don’t think we should do this.”

She pulled back from him, as if the words were a physical blow. He looked at her, propped on his elbows, blossoms of pink on his high cheekbones, then glanced away. But not before she’d seen the emotion on his face. Guilt, shame, and desire.

He wanted this as much as she did, but something held him back.

She sighed and ran a hand through her hair. “Too fast?” She nodded to herself and rolled off of him, staring up into the perfect blue sky. “I’m going too fast. I’m sorry, I--”

“Please, do not apologize.” He rolled to look down at her, his hand resuming its place on her stomach. “I thought… I thought I was ready,” he said. He shook his head, his lips pursed. “I was wrong. It has--”

“--Been a long time,” she said and winced. That sounded more bitter than she intended.

He fell silent, his hand stiff against her bare midriff. “Ir abelas, vhenan.”

She sighed, an effort to expel the heat that had gathered in her core, but there was no relief. So, she laced her fingers through his and gave him a tender smile.

“Tel’abelas, Solas. I don’t want to rush you.”

He searched her face, then nodded. “Thank you.” He looked around the meadow for a moment, then looked her over one last time. His eyes lingered over her stomach, her chest, and then her face. “Perhaps it’s best if we…”

“Yeah,” she said. “Probably.”

The dream didn’t melt, didn’t fade. One moment they were in the meadow, the next she opened her eyes to find the pre-dawn light and the familiar chill of her quarters. She was alone, cold, and frustrated. And she knew he felt the same way, alone in his room overlooking the garden.

What a terrible thing, she thought, to suffer together and yet be so far apart.

[enchantment1385]

OC then and now

I was tagged by the ever lovely @heraldofwho , thanks gorgeous!  This is gonna be a long post... Be warned! 

Faeron & Nico  Lavellan ~ 

Faeron has gone through the most changes since conception, of any of my OC’s with the biggest changing before he ever went public.  Faeron was a sleepless 4 a.m creation, who I just wanted to look ‘different’ to my other inquisitors.  Originally, he was going to be far louder, outspoken, and overly confident, all to mask the troubles he actually had, but, it never made it past his initial creation as it just didn’t ‘feel’ right. Especially after seeing the screenshot that eventually made me keep him. So, he became the gentlest, blushing, and shyest of them all!  He was always going to be a ‘dreamer’ as I liked the idea of tying that to the ‘rift mage’ specialisation tree. It also allowed me to make him a ‘good rival’ for Solas.

Nico was made as Faeron’s twin. She was always going to be his counterpart, and was always going to be the physically and mentally stronger of the two. Not to mention moodier, and bitchier one of the pair. (That isn’t me saying Faeron couldn’t beat her in battle. They spar often and know each others weaknesses, not to mention Faeron can just put people to sleep by willing it to happen. Bioware!! Where are my sleep spells?!)  

In trespasser, Faeron had grown his hair once again, which makes it all the sadder that he’d have to cut it all off by the time the events are done. I just never seem to give this poor sod a break, do I? 

I did try a different style, but, because his hair is dyed via a mod, if I change the style it defaults back to brown/black, which although you might think, wouldn’t look that different, it really, really does.

Run 1 vs 2 -

Last time, Nico romanced Cullen, but then ended up not marrying him in trespasser. With Dorian leaving, she just couldn’t give herself or her time to anyone but Faeron at that point. After I’d finished I kinda questioned the whole relationship choice tbh, just because, Nico is a brash, opinionated, hardass. I just find it hard to imagine her ending up with a chantey boy, who is, at least somewhat, anti-magic, at least to begin with. This time around I’m going to set her up with Bull to see if I think it suits her better, if not, she might just stay single, as alas, there is NO choice to ‘beat the crap’ out of Solas if you date him which IS very much what would happen if he ever pulled that shit on her. Also she’d never get rid of her Vallaslin, even if she knew. Yes, she’d be pissed, but she’d probably be more angry to Solas at that point stating that if that was true, why not say something sooner. Why only tell her and not Faeron.  Yeahhh... It’d be bad...   This as due to me messing up and not switching a mod off! 

I did think about setting Faeron up with someone else, but, honestly, I just feel he’d be so taken by Dorian, I can’t really see it happening, not to mention, who?? Also it’s Dorian who makes the moves on Faeron, as Faeron is hopeless with stuff like that.  Even though in reality, Dorian isn’t a great match for Faeron in a lot of ways. He’s always talking about leaving, which leaves Faeron feeling really insecure, and that he’s not ‘good enough’ or simply an ‘embarrassment’ to Dorian, but he loves him to much to to not be with him. 

In their first run, Faeron came off as a little bit too assured for me, not to mention generally being able to talk Nico round to his way of thinking 99.9% of the time, thus it feeling like a kinda one-sided run on completion. This time around I’d like to add a touch more conflict between the decisions that both would make in the main game, and what Nico wouldn’t negotiate on. I feel it would better help further develop the emotional strain that being in command puts on Faeron.  For example, handing Blackwall over to the wardens, which Nico felt was fitting, this however will have a MASSIVE impact on Faeron.

I decided to keep Faeron looking as close to original as possible, although I’m not sure his scar is in quite the right place, and his lips may be a tiny bit pinker...  I do love him in his eleven armour, and despite the stats sucking beyond comprehension, I am trying to keep him in it, because = <3.  This time round I want his emotionally struggling side to shine through a bit more, especially after drinking from the well of sorrows, and finding out who Mythal really is. Both of which really screwed him up and left him emotionally drained and in a state of depression. If I ever decide to emotionally punish myself by running him through trespasser again, I think he’d be a lot more resigned to not making it through the events, and not caring that he might not make it. 

Nico has had a slight cosmetic change, but nothing too drastic. I made her, ever so slightly darker skinned, to better match Faeron, and of course, gave her a cool new haircut, which I really love on her.  Her personality hasn’t, and likely won’t change all that much. Weirdly, I always knew who I wanted her to be, and it’s never felt wrong. And to clarify, Nico is NOT evil, she does have a good heart, and is very smart, as well as a brilliant strategist, it’s just... A, She doesn’t want to be where she is for quite a long time, as she resents helping the very people who they spent their lives avoiding.  And- B, She knows that the ‘best choice’, isn’t always the ‘right’ one. She can, and will sacrifice the few to save the many, something Faeron just can not do. She is also very slow to trust and (depending on situation) totally unforgiving if that trust is broken. And I’d like to add a bit more tension at the start of her run to show that.  As a weird side note - Nico is incredibly quick footed, and I have thought about  making her a rogue from time to time as I like the thought that she ditched the shield and just picked up another blade instead, but again, her being a warrior just seems to fit. (Damn you for taking away the dual wielding warrior build, Bioware!)

I also dressed them in matching PJ’s this time round because I’m an asshole, who would thinks that shit is cute...  

So on review, more angst, more tension, more gritty, and depressing this time round, but in cute matching outfits... ... Yay?  

No matter what happens, these two will always have each other, and whatever comes their way, they’ll face it together. 

Tagging: @john-cousland @keeperscompanionsdai @tessa1972 @dinah-myles @gugle1980 @sassylavellen  @dreadwolfiscoming @dreadhobo @goldfishfiasco @dickeybbqpit @quizzikemen  Next bit is stolen from @heraldofwho who says it better than I can... (sorry, and thanks, love.)  …if you cannot mod or don’t have any screenies, feel free to talk about developing headcanons or changing face-claims - or changes in backstory… Anything that fits the theme. :-) (No obligation and no pressure, of course, as usual.)

[patheticnugbaby]

Change

Thought I was gonna write a sweet little three or five page drabble about their first kiss and I slammed out nine fucking pages AGAIN.

Solavellan first kiss because I wanted to. Have some fluffs.

Adahla opened the new door, finding a short little hall that opened into a wide, rounded room, well lit by evenly spaced torches and braziers along the wall of it. In the middle was a lone desk with a tall-backed chair. Even if it’d been only a few days since the Inquisition’s arrival to Skyhold it was already heaped with papers and books.

“Hello?” She called into the room from the hallway.

“Hello, Inquisitor.” She heard Solas’s voice and allowed herself a smile.

She clucked her tongue as she walked in, “Not used to that yet. I don’t think I like it. ‘Inquisitor Lavellan’ makes it sound like I interrogate people.”

“You will grew accustomed to it, in time.” He replied, just to the right of the door, hand on the stone wall before he turned back to her, “What can I do for you?”

“Well, if you had time I would like to talk for awhile,” She gestured to his desk, “but you look busy. Josephine says I have the rest of the evening to myself, though I’m to expect more work in the morning.” She smiled ruefully, turning to look around the room, “You’ve claimed this room, I’m told.”

“I have something in mind for it,” He said, walking up to her side, careful space between them, “and I do have some time, despite appearances. Was there something in particular you had in mind?”

“I was actually hoping to talk a little more about you, and your studies,” She hoped she hadn’t tacked the last part on too horribly.

Solas smiled in a way that made her think he noticed, “That is... Surprising, Inquisitor. Come, let us talk.” he lifted a hand like he was going to touch her arm but just hovered his hand a few inches away, gesturing to a sofa that was pressed against the wall.

Adahla sat before he did, folding her legs under herself and leaning on the armrest-

She was walking in the snow. It crunched pleasantly under her boots, like it had just barely frozen over the top. A pleasant, crisp wind tugged at her shirt collar, it made her want to unbind her hair. Adahla giggled softly and crouched down, gathering snow in her hands before throwing it out in front of her, turning to Solas with a sheepish little smile.

“Sorry. I’d never seen snow before I came this far south. I love it, even if it’s a little cold.” She wiped her hands dry on her coat.

“You don’t need to apologize, Inquisitor.” He smiled a little wider when she wrinkled her nose at the title, “Is it better or worse than ‘Herald of Andraste’?”

“A little better. At least with ‘Inquisitor’ I’m not directly tied to a human god, or whatever she’s supposed to be for them.” Her left ear twitched, then she squinted her eyes, “Are you avoiding talking about you?”

“You haven’t asked me a question yet, Inquisitor,” He almost smirked, walking a little ahead of her.

“You didn’t say much of where you grew up. Just that it’s a little village in the north.” She followed, running her fingertips along the rough bark of the trees, “Was there really nothing interesting about it?”

“Not really. I did not stay there long,” He paused, ears flicking a little, “Perhaps, had I stayed longer I may have found something valuable in it, but even if I had I would’ve left eventually. There were too many wonders to find.”

“Do you think it’d be possible to see all of them?”

He chuckled, “Not in one lifetime. Not in a thousand, I imagine.”

“Good,” Adahla smiled and took a few skipping steps ahead of him, “After all of this I think I’ll try to find some.”

“After this?”

“If I make half-baked plans for what happens after, should we do the impossible, should we somehow manage to right all the wrongs, stop a false god with an archdemon from the beginning of human chantry tales, it’ll keep me from remembering the very clear reality that all of this may just kill me before it’s over.” She stopped short, putting a hand to her heart, “It should’ve killed me already. Probably twice over.”

“Your heart still beats, lethallan, and this world is better for it.” He set a warm hand on her shoulder, she leaned a little into the comfort of it.

“Yes, I know. Without me you’d all be, oh what did Varric say? ‘Ass-deep in demons forever’?” She smiled a little sadly, looking at her left hand, the bright flash of green that was the Anchor, then shot him a sideways glance, “Or is it because you enjoy my company?”

“Both, actually,” He let go of her shoulder, “though I’m quite fond of your company.”

She blushed a little in the tips of her ears, flicking them a little, “Thank you. I am partial to yours too.”

“I had noticed,” He sounded almost like he wanted to laugh, but he only smiled, “you come by often, usually with an excuse.”

“I’ll have you know I don’t make excuses,” She sniffed with mock indignance, “I just happen to have reasons to see you.”

“Such as?”

“Wondering how you got that little scar on your forehead,” She tapped her own to indicate the spot, he lightly touched it, like he’d forgotten about it. “Your eyebrows tug on it when you frown. Which is a lot.”

His smile softened a little, “These are not happy times, Inquisitor, reasons for cheer are few and far between.”

“All the more reason to smile more, then, don’t you think?” She bent, gathering snow in her hands again, “The world is dark and huge and terrible. If I can make it a little brighter then I’d like to, even if it’s just by giggling at the snow.”

“You have a bright spirit, lethallan. I pray that never changes,” He shot her a wider smile, almost a grin, before turning away and walking up the hill.

Adahla’s lips curled mischievously as she started to ball the snow in her hands. She drew back as if to throw it, the trees seemed to part, revealing Haven, still in the quiet of early morning, the sun shattering through the Breach. She dropped the snowball.

“Haven,” She breathed, a sharp pang in her chest that she couldn’t place.

“This place will always be important to you,” He said, standing at the edge of the trees, waiting, “The beginning of everything.”

“I wish I remembered what happened before,” She admitted, coming up to stand next to him, perhaps a little closer than she should, “but I can’t. Every time I try it’s just me waking up in that cell, this burning pain in my hand.” Adahla held up her left hand, squinting in the light of it.

“Does it still pain you?” His face creased sadly, it made him look much, much older.

“Not often. It hurts when we’re near rifts, when it reacts,” She turned her hand, wiggling her cold fingers, “it stings a while after closing a rift, kind of like when you stub your toes.”

“I am sorry.”

“Don’t be. You didn’t do this.” She gave him a warm grin, lightly touching his shoulder with her fingertips. “I easily got hurt worse than that just being dalish. Getting my vallaslin hurt more than this does.”

He was a little quiet at that, ears twitching a little before he started to walk with her. They entered the hallway before her cell, it was exactly as she remembered it. Dark, dank, cold. Empty manacles in the center of the room. It smelled of mold and old blood and the yellow sourness of fear.

“I sat beside you while you slept. Studying the anchor.” His eyes were fixed on the manacles in the center of the room.

She chuckled, almost nervously, forcing down the memory of waking in this dismal little place, “Must’ve been quick. My hand’s a green torch now, excellent for night reading.”

“No,” He smiled, turning to look at her, “it wasn’t. A magical mark of unknown origin, tied to the Breach? I could’ve taken weeks, if we had the luxury.” He frowned a little, tugging on the scar, “I ran every test I could imagine, searched the fade, yet found nothing. Cassandra suspected duplicity. She threatened to have me executed as an apostate if I didn’t produce results.”

“Of course she did,” Adahla groaned a little, covering her face with her hands, “When I woke up she asked me why she shouldn’t kill me now. Honestly I never want to be on her bad side ever again. Do you know how threatening she looks in this light?”

He tilted his head back with another chuckle, almost a laugh, “Yes, I do,” Solas put a hand to her shoulder, leading her away from the little room. “You were never going to wake up,”

“I live to shock you, apparently.” She grinned, gently bumping him with her shoulder, he smiled and nudged her back.

“You did. By all reasoning you shouldn’t have woken up. A mortal sent physically through the fade?” He frowned again, ears pinned close to his head, “I was frustrated, frightened. The spirits I might have consulted had been driven away by the Breach.” He bowed his head a little, one ear flicked, “I wished to help, but I had no faith in Cassandra... Nor she in me. I was ready to flee.”

She chuckled almost derisively, “Where? The Breach threatened everything, everyone, everywhere.”

“Someplace far away where I might research a way to repair the Breach before it reached me,” He smiled, ears pricking forward, as he glanced down a little sheepishly “I never said it was a good plan.”

Solas stepped away, turning to the slow-turning maelstrom that was the Breach. She stepped behind him, nearly close enough to touch. He raised his hand towards the Breach, as though to touch it.

“I told myself: One more attempt to seal the rifts.” He took his hand down, stepping back to her side, still staring into the Breach “I tried and failed. No ordinary magic would affect them. I watched the rifts expand and grow, I resigned myself to flee, and then-”

Boiling green light. The stench of burned and festering flesh on the air. A hand grasped tightly around her left wrist and thrust her at the rift, the hissing of angry, roiling magic thrummed in her ears before it cracked like a whip, throwing her back.

“-It seems as though you hold the key to our salvation.” He had turned back to her now, warm, soft eyes and smile, butterflies in her chest. “You had sealed it with a gesture... And right then I felt the whole world change.”

Adahla blinked, unable to help the heat that crept up on her cheeks and her ears. A little smile, soft and hopeful curled her lips, she shifted her weight to her other foot, left hand on her cocked hip.

“Felt the whole world change?”

“A figure of speech,” He replied smoothly, his ears twitched a little.

“I’m aware of the metaphor,” She took a few small steps up to him, something hot and confident rising in her chest with the butterflies, “I’m more interested in the word ‘felt’.”

“You change... Everything.” He admitted, leaning back as though he was going to try and retreat, then took a small step forward, inches away.

“Sweet talker,” She looked away, a bashful little smile on her lips, butterflies swarming in her, she nearly felt a little nauseous.

Adahla idly noticed that her heart was pounding, it felt so loud she was surprised he didn’t hear. Her ears flicked wildly, she felt like her face was on fire and yet, that warm and powerful feeling washed over her again. She bit her lip, just for a moment before glancing at him. He had just started to look away.

She lunged at him, catching the edge of his jaw with the tips of her fingers and turning his face to plant a soft, hurried kiss on his lips. Adahla pulled away, her cheeks and ears blazing. Her heart thundered in her chest and she turned as if to run.

His hand caught her arm, turning her back to kiss her. She pressed her hands up against his back to press him close, then to hold herself up as his thigh pressed between her legs, prompting a soft mewling sound. She felt his tongue at her lips and she let him in, feeling his hands tighten at her waist and her back, nearly holding her up on his own. He pulled away all too quickly, wet lips and heated eyes. He gave a little shake of his head before he leaned in to kiss her again, her hand laid on his neck, a softer, sweeter kiss before he pulled away again.

“We shouldn’t. It isn’t right. Not even here.” He stepped back, his voice nearly trembling, softer than a whisper.

“What do you mean ‘even here’?” She wanted to reach for him again, hands slightly outstretched to him.

“Where did you think we were?” His smile turned sly as he tilted his head, eyes gleaming.

She took a slow look around, Haven, snow, the Breach, “I’m dreaming? Are you-?”

“I’m real,”

Adahla allowed herself a winsome little smirk, “Good, but this, this isn’t.” she gestured expansively at the town.

“That’s a matter of debate... Probably best discussed after you,” He leaned a little closer, then whispered: “Wake up.”

Adahla jolted awake, ears flicking wildly as she looked around. The round room, the torches and braziers having burned down, dimly bathing the room with an almost red light. She moved her legs, wincing as she felt the tingly not-quite pain of numbness shoot up them. Her eyes went wide, searching for him.

“Sleep well?” He stood up, he’d been in the chair, there was a warm smugness in his voice.

“I’ve never done anything like that before,” She paused, ears flicking, “on a number of levels...”

He chuckled, a warm, content sound before he cleared his throat, lacing his hands behind his back, “I apologize. The kiss was impulsive and ill-considered. I should not have encouraged it.”

Something sharp clenched in her chest and she stood, “Solas, I thought you were, interested in me,” she knit her fingers together nervously, “If I misread you, I apologize.”

“No, you have no need to apologize. I-” He stopped, like he wasn’t sure what to say, “It has been a long time, and things have always been... Easier for me in the fade.” Solas paused, looking down before meeting her eyes again, “I am not certain if this is the best idea. It could lead to trouble.”

Adahla took a moment, wringing her hands a little, “That doesn’t exactly sound like a ‘no’, Solas.”

“It isn’t. I-” He stopped again, ears flicking, “I am... Entirely too fond of you to refuse you outright.”

“Then,” She paused, standing up and walking up to him, keeping a respectable distance, as much as she’d like to close it, “I’m willing to take that chance, if you are.”

“I-” His voice caught, ears flicking forward, then pinned back, the tips tapping his head, “Maybe, yes. If I could take a little time to think. There are... Considerations.”

“Of course, take all the time you need,” She smiled, reaching out with her hands before she pulled back to allow him his space.

“Thank you. I am not often thrown by things which happen in dreams,” He paused, looking down before looking back up to her, “but I am reasonably certain we are awake now, and if you’d still like to talk, I would enjoy your company.”

“I’d like that,” She smiled, tilting her head a little, “you can start by explaining that little scar. You never did.”

“You’re right,” His smile was warm, mischievous, it made butterflies in her chest, “Would you like to sit?”

“Will I fall asleep again? She grinned, playfully nudging him.

He chuckled softly, nudging her back, “Not unless you’d like to.”

She laughed, moving around him to take a seat on the only cleared corner of his desk, “After you explain your scar, would you tell me a story, Hahren?”

“The scar is less interesting than my other stories,” He admitted, taking a seat in his chair, “Is there a story in particular you’d like to hear, lethallan?”

“One I haven’t heard before. One that’ll help me forget that I have to be Inquisitor Lavellan.” She said, turning towards him with a little smile, “Can you manage that, Solas?”

“Only if you promise not to interrupt,” He chuckled softly, leaning back in his chair, resting his elbows on the armrests, lacing his fingers together.

“I would never,” She grinned and leaned forward, lightly tapping the scar on his forehead, “now tell me.”

“Ma nuvenin, lethallan.”