#I FRIENDED him and he kept kissing Lanil in the second playthru

[spainkitty]

Blasted Halla and Drunk Lavellan

Lanil's Pieces Masterlist

Her blood was still boiling as she stomped down the stairs. Blasted halla. Blasted halla. How dare he? The halla were sacred! The request from the Hawen clan had been moving and earnest! And he called it a blasted halla. She wanted to punch him in the face. Normally, her initial knee-jerk reaction was fireballs. Or lightning bolts. But no. She was going to physically shake him like a ragdoll and punch him.

So what she had gone behind Fairbanks' back and his noble birth was exposed? So what he'd explicitly asked her not to? He had a duty. They all had a duty. Of every Orlesian silkbiter she'd met, he was the only decent one. Of course she'd want him as both agent and ally! He'd already been doing a noble's job better than any of them. Clara hadn't been some misty-eyed girlish dreamer, she'd been absolutely right. And Lavellan had been right, too.

Cullen and his blasted sense of privacy could go dunk their head in a horse trough. Where had her privacy gone? Where had her choices and her life gone? She didn't get a pass, why should Fairbanks, who was arguably a better person than her anyway?

She steamed and glowered and stomped towards the main gate. There were trees out there. She would find one and sulk under it in peace.

"Hey, boss! Boss!"

Lavellan forced her feet to stop, turning towards the Iron Bull with a very forced and pained smile on her face. Iron Bull, she liked. Iron Bull hadn't called it a blasted halla.

"Yes, Bull?"

"We took down two dragons, and lived to tell the tale. We have to celebrate!" He approached her, completely ignored whatever 'fuck off' vibes she might’ve been throwing off, and cuffed her around the neck. "You look like you need it. What's with the face?"

"War table," she bit out.

"Politics shit," Iron Bull said wisely with a nod. "You definitely need this. Come on, meet the boys while they're all here. Have a drink, have ten!" He laughed heartily and steered her towards the tavern.

It was either walk or be dragged like a toy, and Lavellan hated feeling small. Plus... drinking. She liked wine. Briefly, she thought of that night long ago, her and Varric and Solas, drinking wine and laughing. Toasting to 'whatever friendship means'.

Yeah, that wouldn't be so bad. Better than sulking in the snow by a long run.

"I have to leave at first light for a mission, but... I wouldn't mind a few drinks. Or meeting all the Chargers," Lavellan said, sloughing off a little of the rage as the Iron Bull opened the door.

"That's the spirit, boss," Iron Bull guffawed, slapping her on the back so hard she stumbled into the tavern and barely managed to catch herself.

...

Lavellan stumbled through the empty main hall, weaving unsteadily. She felt so much better. She barely remembered why she was angry earlier. Her face hurt... oh, she was still grinning. But other than that, she was basically flying.

Or spinning.

Dizzy.

Lavellan wobbled, grabbed at a chair, and breathed raggedly. She hiccuped. Giggles bubbled out of her, more and more, giggles like bubbles. She shoved a fist in her mouth because she had to be quiet. It was really dark, so people would be sleeping, and she couldn't wake them up.

Cullen probably wasn't sleeping. Stupid insufferable bastard never slept. She should tell him to sleep. And that he was insufferable.

Also, she wasn't angry anymore. She was kinda sorry about Farbates. Fairdates.

Lavellen scowled at the wall.

Fairbanks! Fairbanks deserved his privacy. Cullen was right. She was right, too, but so was Cullen. She should say sorry. And make him say sorry. Then, they could be friends again.

She liked it when Cullen smiled at her. It wasn't fair that he was so mad at her. She didn't like that, so she got madder at him. She had to explain that to him. It was very important he know.

She nodded to herself and almost toppled over, but luckily she was smart and was still holding onto the chair. Slowly, carefully, like walking on a tightrope, she headed towards the door near the fireplace. One foot in front of the other. When she very intelligently figured out walking again, she picked up the pace. Already eager to see Cullen and make him laugh again. She walked into the first room, blinking at how dark it suddenly was. No fire. Only the faint blue and disturbing hum of the skull shard on the table.

Solas' room.

Right. To get to Cullen, she had to go through Solas' room. She better be careful. Solas liked sleeping. She shuffled across the floor, cringing, holding her breath. She could do it. It was only a few feet away--

Her shoulder banged the scaffold in his room and she cussed virulently. A light so bright it instantly blinded her filled the room and she fell to her ass with another grumbled curse.

"Who is--Lavellan?"

Lavellan shaded her eyes and gazed around. Finally, she found him peering over the scaffold's platform at her.

"You sleep up there!?" she blurted.

"Why are you in my room in the middle of the night?" Solas asked, sighing and rubbing his temple. The light faded and he set down the staff.

"I didn't mean to, but Cullen's that way," Lavellan said, scowling. "I have to apologize."

"You have to apologize to Commander Cullen in the middle of the night."

Lavellan nodded, and tipped over sideways. She barely managed to right herself, and looked at her feet with a frown. "I don't know if I remember how to get up."

"Lavellan, are you drunk?"

"It's not my fault. Iron Bull was drinking, and I couldn't let him drink more than me. That stuff is awful, though. Don't drink... uh... that stuff. It's bad."

Solas murmured something in elvish she couldn't catch, but she smiled dopily up at him.

"Your elvish is prettier than mine. I should practice so I can be as pretty as you."

"Oh, da'len, you are a mess. Must you do everything in excess?" He was climbing down now and Lavellan frowned.

"What you doing? Go to sleep. You like sleeping."

"I'm afraid tonight I have more important matters to attend to," Solas said. He knelt next to her and slipped an arm around her waist, wrapped her arm around his neck. "I'll help you figure out standing."

"No. Go to bed."

"You can't give me orders now. You can't even keep your eyes focused."

"I am very focused and I'm the... Quizanater. Go to bed."

He merely chuckled and hoisted her up. She grumbled and scowled, but it really helped finding her feet leaning on him.

"Even drunk, you're a force of nature. What will it take to break that, I still cannot help but wonder," Solas murmured, chuckling.

"I don't wanna be broken. I like being strong. If I don't feel strong, I gotta pretend. But don't tell anyone I'm pretending, promise, Solas?"

"Yes, lethallan, I promise. Let's hurry now. You need sleep."

"You need sleep," she muttered mulishly. She balked when she realized he had turned them around. "No, Cullen's thattaway."

"We are not going to bother the Commander now."

"But I have to apologize! I was mean to him."

"You're rather mean to a lot of people."

"I am?" she asked it quietly, head bowed. "I am. I'm sorry."

"I need no apology."

She glanced up at him, leaning close and holding tight around his neck. He was sort of blurry, and the room was spinning. But he looked sad. Gazing at her like... like he had on the balcony. When he said the words that scared her.

"I am mean. I couldn't say it back. I wanted to, you know? I really did. I've never met anyone like you, Solas."

"Lethallan, you don't have a memory older than eight months," he reminded her gently.

"Oh. Well, I'm still right."

He chuckled. "You are right, and you were right then. Romance is not an option for us, though I forgot for a moment. It's exceedingly difficult to remember some days."

"It's suseedingly difficult to amember every day."

"Yes. That proves it's time to get you to bed. Let's go."

Lavellan gave in with a sigh. Bed did sound nice. And it was getting harder to keep her eyes open. She didn't normally stay up so late. She stumbled a bit, hitting a chair when they reached the main hall, and Solas had to wrap both arms around her. She was suddenly so close, and he smelled like wine and parchment and brisk winter wind. She nuzzled closer, humming contentedly.

"S'good. Les's stay here."

"At least you're compliant. And light."

"Not small. You're small."

It took a lot of Solas prodding at her, and half-dragging her, but they got up to her room at last. She sat on her bed, blinking owlishly, while Solas brought a bucket towards the bed, and then poured water from the ewer on the bedside table into a cup.

"Drink."

"I'm already drunk." She pushed his hand and the cup away.

"I am very glad this was not my first impression of you. You are ridiculous. Drink the water."

"Oh." She gulped it down thirstily. "Thank you."

"Good." His hand touched her hair and she leaned up into it. "I should go."

"No, stay," Lavellan grabbed his sleeve. "It's so empty. I hate it. I hate it."

"Lethallan--"

"Please, Solas?"

He slowly knelt in front of her, taking her hand in his. "And so she says please."

She nodded, lips pressed tightly together, glaring down at their hands. She wouldn't say it again. In her alcohol-hazed mind, there was already a sliver of shame worming its way in.

"All right. I am worried about when you wake up," he said, sighing.

Hurriedly, before he changed his mind or the shame took stronger root, she kicked off her boots and crawled into the bed. He slipped in after her and she eagerly snuggled closer, burying her nose against the crook of his shoulder. She sighed, contented and happy. His touches were always so comfortable. The kissing had made it complicated, had taken away her easy enjoyment of it, but now it was back. Solas was back.

"Ma serannas, falon," she murmured, rubbing her cheek against his shoulder.

She was already deep in a dream, the Fade pulling her in like an anchor dropping into the sea, when his hand touched her hair. Brushed a strand away from her brow. Gently covered her vallaslin with his palm.

"I must remember, ma vhenan, but you make it so difficult."

Part II