#I REMEMBER ROMANCED DORIAN'S VOICE DURING ALL THE TIMES THE INQUISITOR HAD BEEN IN DANGER

[devotedlystrangewizard]

if i dont see my inquisitor getting increasingly desperate to find dorian because ooohh danger in tevinter i WILL be disappointed this little twink elf needs to be fucking miserable. rook having the time of their life while lavellan is ugly crying in the corner. all these pansexuals are found familying and he cant even find his boyfriend

[dalishbanalras]

Argument

Leather & Lace Romance Week, Day 4: Disagreements & making up

Fandom: Dragon Age ­­­­­Inquisition

Pairing: Solas x Mahariel Lavellan

Rating: Teens

Notes: Mahariel and Solas disagree about what she intends to do with the Grey Wardens.

Read on Ao3

 “On the bright side, it keeps things interesting.”

She quirked a dismissive brow at Dorian before looking back to the bottom of her tankard.

Did she tell him what happened? No. Did she need to? Apparently not. There had been enough occurrences of this same argument as of late. Solas’ point of view about the Grey Wardens was no secret. As for her, she was no fervent protector of the Order. Though, she respected them, and she thought them an asset that, if used carefully, could be valuable. One not to overlook in the current situation.

Her guess, Solas had been pouting over a book since they parted. The Tevinter would have fill in the gaps easily enough to come pester her at the tavern. Despite her silence and her lack of interest for his train of thought, he went on.

“I mean, you two agree on everything or almost. Must become boring. This is spicing things. Both for the actors and the audience, don’t you agree?” She rolled her blue-green eyes and gulped some of her ale.

“Let’s take a minute to picture how little I care that you are enjoying the show.”

At her utter irritation, he mimicked an angry cat, pocking at her shoulder with his claws.

“Meow! Snarky, are we? Alright, let’s just brood and drink in an uneased silence.”

Of course, he managed to do that for less than ten seconds.

She did not get the chance to linger at the tavern long before another meeting called for her attention. Now, she could see one true bright side to her despicable mood. Matters were handled quickly and effectively, the advisors having no particular wish to remain in the same room as her for the time being.

It left her alone to face one alarming report alone in her quarters. One from Stroud, of course. And what they were to expect. She let out a slow breath. You’ve got to be kidding me. It had never sounded like a piece of cake. Having a location should have been good news to her. Kind of. But the only thing she saw is that for the little they knew of this mess, the Veil had to be in a very poor state where they would be heading. Blood magic and demons tended to do that, especially in old buildings that had seen much.

She needed an advice that she was more than reluctant to seek.

She pinched the bridge of her nose. This could not wait. Hopefully, he would still be in the rotunda. Let’s just hope I’m not going downstairs only to restart a fight.

Solas let escape a long sigh. Cole finally gave up on talking to him for now. The spirit had good intentions, but sometimes, he was just not in the mood to take these.

How stubborn could she be? He had no trust in the Grey Wardens. And she had little of that either, that was the worst. So why, in Mythal’s name was she so obstinate in giving them a second chance? They were blinded by an erroneous sense of duty that would lead them to their fall.

But her clan was in Ferelden at the beginning of the Blight. She would not admit it, not even to herself, but that was why she was set in this decision, he was certain of it. Because some part of her remembered all too well the despair brought upon the lands, and the fairytale-like stories of the mighty Grey Wardens who saved Thedas a decade ago.  

It was naïve. Naivety was so unlike her, it drove him mad about the whole situation. Not because she refused to listen to him. In other circumstances, he could find some comfort even in seeing her, a trained assassin, still having this kind of innocence in her.

Though, not here. She would take the blow hard when the Order will disappoint her. And they will. That made him mad to think how she would blame herself for it because she decided to give them a chance.

He shook his head, jaw gritted, trying to focus on the words under his eyes.

He caught her small moment of hesitation as she stepped into the rotunda. His brow quirked. Was it too much to hope that she thought about it and was ready to see his point? Probably. He finished the line calmly before looking up at her. His storm eyes examined her stance and did not fail to see a remnant coldness laced with some reluctance at standing here. His gaze dropped to the papers held tightly in her hand.

“Inquisitor.”

If the title made her cringe on the inside – and it did – she gave nothing away. She gave a curt nod.

“Solas. My apologies for disturbing you at such hour.”

She certainly had no trouble of her own to sound oh so formally detached. He raised slowly from his chair, glancing at the reports.

“What can I do for you?”

She paused before answering. Definitely reluctant to present him the issue. She eventually extended the papers to him without a word. His brows furrowed at the very first lines. He peered at her with disbelief. Was she so eager for them to fight again? She commented, having no need to hear the untold question.

“This is no ideological point of view that I am seeking. I need a practical advice. The Inquisition intends to bring several mages along, and Stroud’s words concern me about how safe it shall be to do so.”

He took a silent breath and slowly nodded. Wise thing to question, he would give her that. He looked back at the report. She leaned against the doorframe, quietly letting him read. From the corner of his eye, he could see her gaze linger over his frescoes. He had to suppress a smile. No matter how often she saw them, she never stopped looking at them that way. With wonder, admiration.

After reading it twice, he sauntered to his desk wistfully. It caught her attention.

“So?” He pursed his lips.

“First tell me. What was your thought?” She ran a hand through her white hair and admitted.

“Asking for templar reinforcement.”  He spun to her with disbelief.

“What?” Her eyes hardened.

“This does not please me more than you. But every mage that is supposed to be there is needed. I have to be there, Hawke has to, and our troops need healers. I do not want to consider the possibility of taking down our own, but we know little of what is going on. If any of us get possessed, they will need to be neutralized.” His fist tensed.

“The Veil will be thin. Their ritual will attract demons. This is not safe, especially for you. They will be drawn to the Anchor.”

“My presence during the attack is no subject for debate.” His brows furrowed. Of course, she was right. The Inquisitor had to be there, he knew that. But that her back-up plan was templars…His scowl suddenly deepened.

“You mentioned Hawke and yourself only.”

“We have to be there. This does not apply to other mages I could possibly bring along. There is no reason to risk it.” She stated evenly without looking at him. He blinked at that. She could not possibly be serious.

��With all due respect, Inquisitor, I do believe that this particular conclusion of yours is obsolete.” She glanced quickly at him.

“No. And this is an order.”

Despite her words, her voice had softened in a way it did not of the all conversation so far. Or of the all day, for that matter. He shook his head and took a step closer.

“Mahariel, there is no way I am not coming.”

“There is. This is dangerous, especially for mages. I am not risking it.”

“And what if something happens? I shall not rely on templars for that matter. Let’s admit one of you get possessed. They will be as quick as to take the mage down. If this is you…” He paused to still his voice, trembling at the very thought. “They will make you a Tranquil to preserve the Anchor.”

She fell silent, averting her gaze. That sounded like the most likely, indeed. His fingers went for her chin, wanting to make her meet his eyes. She dodged the contact and stepped back.

“Your confirmation about the state of the Veil and the demon threat was all I needed. Thank you, Solas. I shall not bother you further.”

She turned for the door. His arm stood in the way before she could make her escape. She bit her bottom lip, feeling his breath near her neck.

“Do not ask me to have you there, Solas.” She whispered. “You just stated the risks. I cannot…”

“This is precisely what I’m asking you. We do disagree on what to do with the Order. If this is a concern, trust that I will not interfere. My opinion is not the one that matters. However, I cannot let you run into that and rely on templars to save the day. They won’t consider options that I am able to provide.”

Her teeth kept worrying over her lip, appraising his words. She turned slowly to face him, finding him as close as his voice and breath had suggested.

“Your opinion does matter. I know you think I am not listening, but I do. You have good points, I won’t question that. But we need manpower. Even now, we cannot match Corypheus’ army with our number.” She offered.

“And I hear you too. The decision is, in any case, yours and only yours to make. But right now, what I want to hear you say is that you will have me accompany you. If possession there is, I can walk the Fade, fight the demon there.”

“I…Did not think about it that way.” She admitted. She took a deep breath. “This has never been about some silly fight, Solas. I do not want to put you in that kind of danger if this can be avoided.” He smiled and brought his hand to her cheek. She leaned into the touch.

“I appreciate the thought, vhenan. But if you cannot avoid that kind of danger yourself, I most certainly rather be there as well.”

Her arms came around his neck and she raised on tiptoe to reach his lips. She breathed the words against his mouth.

“Ma nuvenin.”