#adahla lavellan

[rilakkatie]

📚🌿 my baby girl adahla and @haverdoodles's lavellan, te'lise in a funky lil regency au!!

just a lil art trade with my fellow regency loving girlie! :'))))

[nug-tiddies]

A soldier, a savior 

A hero, a leader

[patheticnugbaby]

Hi! Sooo this is my very first fic of literally anything. I initially romanced Solas not exactly on accident. I made an elvish Inquisitor because I wanted to romance Cullen and I stumbled upon the flirt option for Solas and I was just “Wait, you can do that?” because he just seems so different from the usual kinds of romances Bioware throws at you.

So I ran it and I fell into hell. It’s been a very long time since I’ve written literally anything at all ever so I’m exceptionally rusty. Anyways! I hope you like it.

“I have distracted you from your duty. It will not happen again.”

Adahla chuckled a little, tilting her head slightly to look at him better, “I’m sorry?”

“I have-”

“No, I heard you, Solas; I just don’t understand,” She reached for him, to touch his cheek. When he stepped away from her she cradled her hand to her chest, like she had been burned. "Why?"

"I did not wish to hurt you. In another world-" He stopped, as though just for this one moment, words failed him. He stepped back further, lacing his fingers behind his back. "Just not this one."

A sharpness rose in her chest and pricked at the corners of her eyes. She blinked rapidly to stop the hot tears welling in her eyes. She would not cry, not here and not now. She took a long, deep breath, closing her eyes for just a brief moment.

When she opened them again she was no longer Adahla Lavellan. Now, she was the Inquisitor.

Looking at him, she knew he recognized the change. It was in the way his eyes creased, where his eyebrows drew close, and his mouth curled down. There was hurt and pain in his eyes, she almost wanted to laugh, or cry, or scream.

But she wouldn't, the Inquisitor wouldn't.

"If this is what you want, so be it," He opened his mouth as though to speak and she held up her hand to stop him. "Don't speak, Solas, I-I need some time."

He inclined his head, just a little, "I will see you back at Skyhold."

Then he left.

She stood with her fingers laced behind her back, impassively watching him leave. She waited until she could no longer see him through the night fog, then she waited a little longer. It must've been at least an hour before she allowed herself to collapse into the wet grass.

She clutched her stomach tightly like she could squeeze all the hurt out. Tears spilled onto her cheeks, leaving hot trails that felt like they were made of fire. Her chest felt tight, her ribs squeezed with a vice. She curled in on herself, bawling into her knees. She managed to catch her breath, just for an instant, to raise her head and gently trace the pattern of her vallaslin over her left eye.

Or rather, where it had been.

She tried to hold back another sob and failed. The brief memory of magic washing over her face, the warmth of his eyes. It felt like years ago, like a dream.

By the time she finally managed to exert some control over herself she was shivering. The seat of her trousers was wet from the grass, her skin felt clammy from the fog. She stood, her legs ached from sitting for so long. Adahla rubbed her hands over her face in an attempt to scrub away the evidence of her pain. She took a long, shuddering breath and tried to roll some of the stiffness out of her shoulders.

When she left the clearing she didn't look back to it. She didn't look at the trees, the rocks, anything except exactly where she was going.

She even missed the shadow of a man, his back pressed tightly against a tree, his hands clenched so hard that his nails bit into his palms.

Ir abelas, ma vhenan.

[zanidragon-art]

Adahla Lavellan dancing, probably alone out on the snow in the moonlight. Just a little escape from being Inquisitor.

[yourdragonageocs]

I love the coloring on this so much! And I love all the freckles on her! Great job!

More Adahla Lavellan.

[andauril]

Siryn’s mother, Adahla, and her father, Sothen. 

[rilakkatie]

the birds gonna make the wedding bed — — and the trees gonna lay the wedding table and the rivers gonna give us the wedding bands — adahla&bram  — #dragonage

[rilakkatie]

[rilakkatie]

bliss  — adahla&bram

[patheticnugbaby]

Solas. Cuddles in tulip fields, soft sunshine, "you hold my heart" MAKE MY DAY BB

“We should do this more often,” Adahla smiled, reaching over to interlace her fingers with his.

He was quiet, smiling with his eyes just barely closed. Adahla wrinkled her nose, letting go of his hand and nestling herself up against his side with her head on his shoulder. His arm wrapped around her shoulders, idly playing with her wild hair. She let out a soft, happy sigh, turning her head to look at the flowers.

Tulips, that’s what he called them. Their colors were so bright they almost didn’t look real. The sky was almost a fairytale blue with the fluffiest clouds. Even the sunshine seemed softer here.

“How did you find this place?” Solas stirred then, of course, always ready to answer a question.

“An accidental discovery some time ago,” He paused and she felt him press his head against her hair, “I wasn’t sure it’d still be here.”

“Unusually optimistic for you,” She teased him, sitting up to rest on one of her elbows, her other hand resting on his chest, over his heart.

He laughed and she cherished that sound. It seemed that he laughed so rarely she hoarded that sound in her heart, right next to the butterflies. Adahla rested her head on his shoulder again, lightly tracing little patterns over his chest, watching him breathe.

It was several long, lovely moments before she became keenly aware of his eyes on her. At first, she didn’t look, feeling her cheeks and the tips of her ears heat up. She chanced a sideways glance at him, unconsciously biting her lip.

He hadn’t really moved much, just tilted his head to watch her. His eyes looked warm, almost heated but not quite. If she hadn’t spent an embarrassing amount of time just looking at his face she’d have missed the tiniest curve of a smile at the corners of his mouth.

To hide her embarrassment she kissed one of those corners. She felt him sigh before he turned to kiss her fully. An arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her on top of him, the other tightly braided in her hair. Their kisses were so few, especially kisses like this. She treasured them, placing every single one the same place she kept the sound of his laughter and the butterflies.

“You hold my heart,” She whispered, resting her forehead on his.

It took her just a moment to register that she’d said this to him. The butterflies roared up in her stomach and she let out the tiniest gasp of mortification. She didn’t dare meet his eyes.

He kissed her again, this time softer, slower. The kind of kiss that melted her too-full heart.

“I will treasure it, always,”

Okay, wow. Thank you, I didn’t know I needed to write this.

@solemis

[patheticnugbaby]

Ink

Have some more Solavellan fluff, instigated by Cole because he absolutely would. I don’t think there’s any elven that needs to be translated in the tags so I hope you guys enjoy.

Adahla sat at her desk, trying to bandage her fingers. Her left hand was bandaged fairly well if a little lopsided. She growled as she gingerly tried wrapping her right hand again, cursing whichever god had decided that in order to be right handed her left hand had to be absolutely useless. She held up and twisted her hand a little, knocking over an ink vial.

“Fenedhis!” She hissed, scrambling to tip it right side up before it completely ruined all of her letters.

Ink spilled over the half-wrapped bandages on her hand, staining her skin pitch black. After she put the stopper in and set the inkwell aside on her bookshelf she used her ink-free left hand to carefully pick up the letters. Most of them were still alright, it was the bottom three which had been irreparably blotted with the ink so that only a fraction of the words were still legible. On the bright side, they were letters she’d written instead of letters she hadn’t read yet. She threw the ruined letters into the hearth, then used the rest of the bandages she’d intended on wrapping her right hand with to mop up the ink. She rolled her shoulders in an attempt to relax as she walked back around to her desk.

Intense pain stung her toes as she stubbed them on the corner of her desk, “Fenedhis lasa!” she snarled, angrily smacking the side of her fist on the offending desk.

“... Inquisitor?” A soft, hesitant voice floated through her door, followed by a little knock, like an afterthought. Solas.

“What is it?” She growled with a little more venom than she’d intended, “I’m sorry, come in.”

“Cole said you needed my help,” Solas elaborated as he opened the door, cautiously peering into the room as he came up the steps, “through the door, it sounded like you needed someone’s help.”

Adahla shot him a little scowl that wrinkled her nose, “Just a trying day. I can’t imagine why he’d specifically ask you.”

“I imagine because you’ve got ink on your face.” She froze, ears flicking tersely as she slowly turned on her heel to the tiny mirror she had above the dresser.

She had a few long smears where she liked to pinch the bridge of her nose when she was frustrated, two more along her right cheek and a few flecks around her lips. Heat suddenly flared in her cheeks and at the tips of her twitching ears as her lips pressed into a thin line.

“Mmhm,” She heard him laugh, which only made her blush more and she whirled on him, flicking her ink-stained hand at him, making him jump back with a small, indignant yelp, “Not so funny now!”

“Unfortunately, vhenan, it’s still funny,” He chuckled a little more before clearing his throat and nodding down at her hands, “What happened to your hands?”

“Oh,” She gave her fingers a surly look before she folded them behind her back, “still practicing with some of the alchemy Kihm’s been teaching me. It’s more... Volatile than I’m used to, just some minor burns and things. Teach me to be more careful next time.”

“May I see?” Solas held out his hands like he was expecting to take hers.

She grumbled a little before she held them out to him, trying to stay at least a little bit angry with him while he carefully examined her fingers.

“I assume that binding them yourself is what caused the accident with the ink?”

She gave him a curt little nod.

“And the colorful curse I heard through the door?”

Adahla felt her blush creep a little higher in her ears and cheeks, “Ah, no. I also stubbed my foot on the desk cleaning up.”

He smiled like he was holding back a laugh before he let her hands go, “Would you like some help?”

She narrowed her eyes at him, trying to decide if the soft, sly turn of his mouth was worth it, “What is this ‘help’ going to cost me?”

“I didn’t say it would cost you anything,” That slyness became just a little more obvious, something in his eyes, or his eyebrows, “but if it were then I’d say it’d be a promise.”

“What kind of promise?” She wrinkled her nose a little bit.

“Only that if you need help with your hands again you ask me,” He paused, inclining his head at her desk, “if only to prevent you from ruining more letters.”

“I think that’ll be acceptable,” She over-exaggerated the gracious nod she gave him, making him chuckle a little as he went to her desk.

“You have more bandages in here?”

“Bottom drawer on the right,” She held her hands up as she sat on her bed, careful not to drip ink on the bedding.

He pulled a few more bandages and a cloth from the drawer, taking a seat next to her, “Let me redo your left hand, first.”

“What’s wrong with my left one?” She scoffed, but she allowed him to take it and start to unwrap her hand.

“Nothing, if you don’t mind it coming off inside of an hour,” He quipped with a soft smile, looking a little harder at her hands, “what burned you?”

“Oh, that one,” She tilted her hand a little, “that was my first attempt at bottling lightning this morning.”

“Bottling lightning?”

“Mmhm. As far as a first try goes I’m told I did well,” She grinned, a small swell of pride in her chest.

“What is it that this Kihm’s been training you to do that requires that you bottle lightning?” He asked with a soft, skeptical tone as he spread an acrid-smelling paste on the burns.

“He calls it Tempest. Here, I prepare alchemical draughts and explosives for various purposes, most of them involving throwing them at things, or drinking them.” She replied, wiggling her fingers a little as he started to wrap them.

“Hm,” He wrapped all the way up to her wrist, leaving her thumb still mobile, “too tight?”

“No,” She flexed her hand a little with a smile, “thank you.”

“It’s no trouble,” He replied with a soft little smile, unwrapping her left hand and throwing the ink-stained bandage into the fire, “why ‘Tempest’?”

“I’ve always liked alchemy, as much of it as Clan Lavellan knew, which wasn’t much,” Adahla admitted, watching his slender fingers as he scrubbed gently at the ink stains on her hand, “and there is something enticing about seeing just how far you can push yourself, or seeing how far you can push the rules,” her ears flicked a little, “when I actually use the things I’ve made it feels like I’m running in the eye of a storm. I’m sure that to anyone else it looks like chaos, glass, and fire everywhere, but there’s a rhythm to it. Like a dance.”

“Magic can have a similar feeling,” He replied, gathering some of the harsh-smelling paste in his fingers and gently rubbing it into her hands, “I expected that you’d be more... Measured in what path you chose.”

“You of all people should know that I am only a ‘measured’ woman when it is necessary. If there is a freer, wilder path that can be taken then I should like to take it,” She said, giving him a little, feline smile that she almost wasn’t sure he saw.

Solas started wrapping her left hand, eyebrows furrowed a little with concentration. Struck by impulse, she leaned in and pressed a feather-light kiss on the scar on his forehead. He smiled, glancing up at her as he finished wrapping her left hand.

“What’s that for?”

“Do I really need a reason to kiss you, vhenan?” She smirked, flexing her left hand a little, “Can I not kiss you only because I like to?”

He laughed softly, picking up the cloth again and gently tilting her face by the chin, “Hold still.”

Solas gently dabbed and scrubbed at the ink smears on her face, starting with the ones on her cheek. His brows were drawn down slightly, eyes intent on the streak he was currently working on. Despite the fact that she knew he wasn’t intentionally meeting her eyes there was something about the intensity in his eyes that made butterflies roil in her stomach and up to her chest.

“Is something the matter, vhenan?” He asked, a little smile playing on the corners of his mouth, still not directly meeting her eyes.

“No,” She frowned a little, “why?”

“Your ears are twitching, and you’ve been biting your lip,” There was that slyness again, in the way he smiled, she wasn’t sure what about the smile made him look any more sly than usual, but it was there.

“Oh,” She made a conscious effort to still her ears, a blush creeping on her cheeks again.

“What’re you thinking?” He asked, changing what side of the cloth he was using and starting on the bridge of her nose.

“Ah- sorry, what?” She wrinkled her nose a little, blinking a few times.

“What’re you thinking?” He repeated a little slower, dabbing at the side of her nose, “You’re usually a little more talkative.”

How much I’d like to kiss you, She thought, ears flicking a little, or that I’d like to nibble at your ears and drag my nails down your back so you’ll make that delicious little sound.

“Just entertaining ideas,” She answered with a coy little smile.

“What kinds of ideas?” His eyes flicked to hers for a moment, a knowing gleam in them.

“I think you could find out, if you had a mind to,” Adahla gave him a nearly predatory smirk, her tongue running along the edge of her teeth.

His ears gave a sharp little flick as he finished dabbing the ink spots from around her lip. There was something heated and dark in his eyes as he lightly traced the outline of her lips with the tips of his fingers. His ears flicked again and he cleared his throat, slowly, almost reluctantly moving his hands away.

“Another day, vhenan,” Solas pressed a tender kiss on her forehead.

“Vhenan’ara,” She answered, taking his hand and giving it a gentle squeeze, “thank you.”

“You’re most welcome,” He squeezed her hand back before replacing the bandages in her desk, “was there anything else you needed assistance with?”

“No, though you’re welcome to stay if you’d like to,” She smiled, standing as she came over to her desk, “I still have a lot of work to do today but you’re always welcome up here.”

“Thank you,” He gave her a warm smile before he started to step out from behind her desk, only to be blocked by Adahla, “... Vhenan?”

“You don’t need to sound nervous, Solas,” She chided him with a little smirk as she brought her arms to snare around his waist, “May I kiss you before you go?”

He didn’t answer, just brought his hands up to tenderly cradle her face and pressed his lips to hers. His kiss was warm and gentle, only the barest touch of his tongue that she suspected was more of a habit than anything else. She treasured his kisses, the taste of him, the softness of his lips against hers, how after almost every kiss he took the extra time to run his thumb along the outline of her lips, like the ghost of a kiss. He pulled away from her, only to place a softer, quicker kiss on her lips again, followed by the feather-light touch of his calloused thumb. She smiled up at him, something about the warmth and adoration of his gaze made her feel like she was melting.

“Ar lath, ma vhenan,” He murmured smiling a little wider when she grinned up at him.

“Lathan na,” She replied, pulling away a little to let him pass, “Should I come by later tonight?”

“I look forward to it,” He said, tucking her hair behind her ears before he left.

“And if you’re asleep?”

He stopped before he started down the stairs, looking over his shoulder at her, “Then you should wake me. Time spent with you is well-worth lost sleep.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” She smiled, rounding her desk and sitting in her chair, pulling over a stack of letters, “Until tonight, ma’arlath.”

“Until tonight.”

[patheticnugbaby]

Trespasses

Guess what I’ve done!

God, this hurt so much to write, I want you all to know that. Watching all the different ways the trespasser scene can play out was fucking painful. Writing it was also horribly painful.

WARNING: Angst, blood, pain, and suffering.

Enjoy your suffering.

Adahla backed out of the eluvian. The scent of blood and death and the pungent smell of lyrium clung to her like a shroud. She turned away from the towering silver glass, only to find a massive qunari warrior looming over her. She gasped and lunged away, dropping into a crouch, flicking her last throwing knives into her hands before she realized that it was just stone. Petrified mid-swing. She turned, finding the field littered with similar statues. Massive warriors looming over her like mountains, frozen like they were lunging for whoever had walked between them, as she was.

She swallowed the jittery fear that rose like bile in her throat. She knew who walked these steps.

“Ebasit kata. Itwa-ost.” Something sharp and jagged rose in her chest at the sound of that voice, like the last two years had only lasted a breath.

She ran towards the sound, nearly tripping over a stray stone in her rush towards the steps. Near the top, she saw the crest of the vidasala’s horns.

“Maras kata!” The vidasala’s voice was angry, guttural.

Adahla sprinted up the stairs, sheathing the knife in her left hand as she felt the steady rise of painful power mounting in her palm. She grit her teeth against it, clenching her fist.

“Your forces have failed.” Her lungs felt like they’d been scrubbed out with sandpaper. Whatever happened after she stopped the vidasala could wait, “Leave now and tell the qunari to trouble me no further.”

She crested the stairs just in time to see him turn away. The vidasala growled and lunged to throw a spear, Adahla flicked a dagger at the qunari’s wrist and then-

The dagger pinged off of the stone, the vidasala suspended in rock before the spear even left her hands. Adahla swallowed, managing to stand straight as she walked past the vidasala. She quashed the fear that tried to choke her as she stalked after him, his back still turned, walking away from her though she knew he heard her coming.

“Solas.” Her voice was steady, sharp like frosted glass.

He stopped, finally. He dipped his head, ears flicking slightly as he half-turned to look at her. Unbidden, the anchor flared, hissing angrily as green light arced from under her armor. Adahla clutched her left hand, sucking in a sharp breath through her clenched teeth. She felt the jagged tears in her skin reopening, blood slicking her arm and hand under the armor. Somehow, over the growing hum of the anchor, she heard blood dripping onto the stone from the fingertips of her gauntlet. Her knees gave out and she spat a curse, glaring at him as he walked up to her, smooth, steady, powerful. His eyes gleamed lyrium blue, just for a moment. There was a cold sting, accompanied by the smell of ozone and the pain faded to the dull throb she’d become accustomed to. She stood, straightening her spine and drawing her shoulders back. Calm, confident like the ice over a lake.

“That should give us more time.” He smiled at her, tilting his head the way he always did, “Your hair-” he stopped, shifting his shoulders a little, “I suspect you have questions.”

Adahla blinked once, twice, before knife-sharp laughter bubbled out of her throat, her voice hoarse from the screaming she’d done, “That’s what you have to say to me? You disappear without a word after our battle with Corypheus, despite a promise to talk to me ‘when this is all over’ and now- now you ‘suspect I have questions’?” Her voice had climbed almost into a hoarse shriek as she stomped up to him, immensely pleased when he stepped back, “Fenedhis, Solas!”

He bowed his head, letting out a long, shuddering breath, “What would you have me say?”

She let out a disgusted grunt and turned away, throwing her hands angrily in the air, “I don’t know! I don’t know if there’s anything you could say that could make all of this any better.” She snapped, turning back to him before scrubbing her right hand over her face with a deep sigh. “You’re right, I do have questions. We could sit here for a hundred years and not answer all of them. Do I have enough time for a few?”

“We have some time, Adahla,” He replied, she squeezed her eyes shut, the use of her name cut like a knife.

“Well let’s not waste it,” She turned away from him, her hands on her hips before she ran a hand through her short-cropped hair with a jagged sigh, “I found some things, travelling the eluvians,” Adahla had to swallow the steady rise of fear in her stomach, “You-” she had to stop again, “You’re Fen’Harel. Dread Wolf.”

“Well done.” His voice was soft, she heard the warmth of a smile in his voice, “I expected nothing less of you.”

“Don’t! You-” She whipped back around to him, pointing an accusing finger under his pointed chin, “Don’t you dare congratulate me. Racing through mirror after mirror picking up the breadcrumbs you left, each one telling me I was wrong. The gods I honored, believed in, nothing more than glorified slavers! My life, my faith was false, every piece of it an ignorant lie!” She choked out an anguished sob, gasping like she couldn’t get enough air.

He reached for her, then drew back at her venomous glare, ears pinned tightly to his skull, “I apologize. You are right,” he met her eyes, just for a second, “I was Solas first, for what that’s worth.”

“Very little,” She snapped, then she sighed, tilting her head back to look at the clear, blue sky, “What do you mean ‘you were Solas first’?”

“Fen’Harel came later, an insult I took as a badge of pride,” She heard the hints of a rueful smile and refused to look at him, looking instead over his shoulder at the towering eluvian, “The Dread Wolf inspired hope in my friends and fear in my enemies. Not unlike ‘Inquisitor’, I suppose,” He stopped, averting his eyes as his ears flicked wildly, “And now you know. What is the old Dalish curse? ‘May the Dread Wolf take you’?”

Something hard and cold in her heart cracked. Finally, she felt the sting of hot, angry tears in her eyes, the hard ball of iron lumping in her throat. She met his eyes now, full of righteous fury and pain.

“Ma harel lasa!” She snarled, almost like a wild animal.

“Only by omission.” His ears flicked, eyes creasing with sorrow, pain.

“Ma lasa banal’ghilana!” She stepped up to him, hands flicking to the empty dagger sheaths on her hips as he stepped back from her.

“What would you have had me say?” He demanded, a trembling in his tone as his ears flicked back against his head, “That I was the great adversary in your people’s mythology?”

“I would have had you trust me like I trusted you!” Her voice broke, she felt herself shaking, every muscle in her body trembled and the great, aching pain in her chest burned like she had never buried it. “I trusted, I loved you enough to let you change me and you let me!”

He looked away like he couldn’t stand the sharpness of her pain, her rage, “Ir abelas, vhenan.”

“Tel’abelas!” She spat, ripping the gauntlet off of her left hand, thrusting it under his eyes, “You did this to me! I lost everything because of your mistakes!” she took her hand back, flicking blood on the stone, flecks landing on his pristine golden armor, “If you care if you ever cared then tell me the truth.”

“I could never bring myself to lie about how I felt about you, Adahla,” He was quiet, something dragged at his words like needles before he shook his head a little, turning away from her, “I sought to free my people from slavery to would-be gods,” she followed him, something warm, familiar, and gentle washing over her as she recognized the voice he used to tell her stories. Butterflies in her chest. “I broke the chains of all who wished to join me. The false gods called me Fen’Harel, and when they finally went too far, I formed the veil and banished them forever.” He stopped, looking out over the sabotaged fortress that crumbled beneath them, “And, in so doing, destroyed their world.”

Adahla was silent for a time, staring blankly at the maze of a wrecked fortress, wildflowers, and trees sprawling over its corpse. She felt a steady fracture growing in her chest, spiraling out from her heart. The iron in her throat hadn’t gone away, if anything, it only felt sharper. She tried not to sniffle and failed, tilting her head back to the sky as though it could stop the hot rolling of tears down her blood smeared face.

“False gods,” She choked, touching the eye where her vallaslin had once been, “Explains a lot about your attitude about my people. Cre-” She stopped short with a ragged breath, “I am such a fool.”

“You are many things, Adahla, but you have never been a fool,” He assured her softly, “The remnants of culture the dalish cling to are not their fault. All that was lost is my responsibility.”

“Yes, I forgot,” She hissed, turning to glare at him, “We’re a mistake. A mistake built on your mistakes, Fen’Harel.”

The use of that name stung him, she knew in the way his ears flicked, a subtle gleam in his eyes, she dimly heard the sound of tightening leather as he clenched his hands behind his back. She took a breath, it was a heavy, shuddering sound that caught in her throat. His ears flicked, fingers twitching like they did when he was keeping himself from something. She felt the fracturing in her chest begin anew, a raw kind of pain that scraped in her lung as she took another long, deep breath. It sounded like her throat was coated in needles, her lungs felt like they were lined with barbs but it mended the fractures, just a little.

“What are you going to do now?” She managed to ask, she knew he wouldn’t tell her everything but a shred had to be better than nothing.

It had to.

“My people fell for what I did to strike the Evanuris down, but still some hope remains for restoration.” He had started to walk away, towards the enormous, gleaming eluvian, then he stopped, the tiniest shift in his posture. Resolve. “I will save the elven people, even if it means this world must die.”

“You would- you would destroy this world?” She couldn’t keep the raw shock from her voice, couldn’t keep it from climbing several notes higher.

“Not happily-”

“No. No.” She snarled, gripping him by the shoulder with her bloody hand, yanking him to face her, “You do not get to do that to me, not on top of everything else you’ve done! Not after everything I sacrificed to keep this fucking world breathing, limping along. I lost everything cleaning up your mess! My home, my freedom, my clan-” Her voice cracked with a dry, broken sob before she whispered: “and you had the gall to let me love you.”

“I am sorry, vhenan,” His voice nearly trembled as he bowed his head, suddenly unable to meet her eyes.

Her chest tightened as she choked on the air, her lungs burned like she couldn’t get enough breath. She took her hand off of him, leaving a bloody handprint on the wolf’s pelt over his shoulder. She turned from him, pacing wildly, three steps at a time. She was breathing too hard, she knew. Her breath dragged at her throat, little-hooked claws.

“What was supposed to happen, Solas?”

“Corypheus was supposed to die unlocking my orb, then I would’ve entered the fade with the mark you now bear and torn down the veil.” He paused, bowing his head just a touch, “As this world burned in the raw chaos, I would have restored the world of my time... The world of the elves.”

“I-” Adahla choked on the words, taking another breath, if only to keep herself together, “I never thought of you as someone who could do that, Solas.”

He looked away from her, to the ground, like he was ashamed, “Thank you.”

She couldn’t help but laugh bitterly, the sound rang like daggers on stone, “Don’t thank me, Solas, because I was obviously wrong!” she gestured wildly with her hands before turning an accusing glare back to him, “Clearly, you are someone who could murder thousands, hundreds of thousands of people because their world is somehow less worthy than yours! Because my world is less worthy than yours!” She snarled, rising almost to her toes, her face within an inch of his own, “How dare you judge us as unworthy for what we built on your mistakes!”

“You must understand,” His voice finally shook, only with sadness, and pain, “I awoke in a world where the veil had blocked most people’s conscious connection to the fade. It was like walking through a world of tranquil.”

Adahla didn’t expect the sudden stabbing pain in her heart, so sharp it made fresh tears roll down her cheeks as she bit back another sob, “We aren’t even people to you? I’m not even a person to you?”

“Not- not at first,” He sighed, carefully meeting her eyes again, “I was wrong. You showed me that I was wrong. Again. I-” his voice cracked, just a tiny bit as he reached for her, then he straightened, hands behind his back again, “That does not make what must come next any easier.”

“Did you ever care about us?” She asked brokenly, sudden exhaustion making her eyes and her bones ache, “Or were we just a means to an end?”

“In the beginning, no, I didn’t,” He admitted, like the confession hurt to voice, “but you are people and you deserved better. Like all the rest I have used in one hopeless battle after another.”

“Why bother, then?” She asked, soft and forlorn, like she already knew the answer, “Why try over and over again, even when the pride is paid in blood that was never yours to spend?”

“I asked you something similar, once. Do you remember?”

She nodded sharply, “All we can do is try again. We have to try and hope the next time will be better,” she chuckled, a cold, jagged sound, “Had I known you’d use that as reason enough to tear my world apart I’d have rephrased, ma’arlath.” She froze as soon as she said it, pretending to ignore the sound of him taking a sharp, shuddering breath.

She felt the iron harden in her throat as she turned away, hands solid on her hips as she let out a sharp sigh. A too-familiar warmth in the tips of her long ears. The softest trembling of butterfly wings beating against her heart. She swallowed, hard as she took her hands from her hips, flexing her fingers. She made a little disgusted noise at the tugging of tacky, sticky blood on her left hand.

“The anchor,” She said, surprised she’d forgotten about it for this long, “It’s getting worse.”

“I know, vhenan,” A gentle hand on her shoulder, she stiffened, pretending the familiar feeling didn’t send a new tear falling from her eyes, “and we are running out of time.”

It was like a switch had been turned in her hand. Angry green light spluttered into being, it cracked from every tear in her flesh like a foul lightning. She clenched her teeth to bite back a cry of pain. The mark cracked like thunder and her knees buckled. She fell back against him with an agonized scream, he caught her gently, lowering her to her knees as he came to crouch in front of her. His eyes were level with hers, she didn’t meet them.

“The mark will eventually kill you,” He said, his voice heavy with regret, “Drawing you here gave me the chance to save you, at least for now.”

“Solas,” She managed to choke past the pain, “This is- I’m going to die and it’s your fault! You stupid, foolish-” Her voice broke with a sob and met his eyes, looking at him, really looking at him for the first time since she stepped through the eluvian.

His cheeks were fuller like he’d been eating better. The armor suited him too well, and yet it didn’t. He was better in just the sweater and leggings he’d always worn before. His eyes were still stormy but they seemed clearer now, glistening wetly with what she could think were unshed tears. The clear line of his jaw was sharp as ever, expressive brows tugging on the little scar on his forehead. He said he got it falling out of a tree as a child.

Adahla felt something in her heart shatter. All the butterflies, wings edged in razor blades swarmed her with the bitter-sweet memories she buried for the last long, two years. The sound of warm laughter in the sunshine, his long, slender fingers as they tangled in her hair; the scent of the snow when it crunched under their feet, how it felt as they danced together, wild and unbound in the moonlight.

“Var lath vir suledin!” Her voice trembled, ached as she said it with another ragged sob.

“I wish it could, vhenan,” He bowed his head, his voice trembled, like he was desperately holding back; Adahla cried out as the anchor seared its way past her shoulder, “My love.”

He leaned down to her, tucking a few strands of hair behind her ear. Adahla closed her eyes against the hot tears that rolled down her bloodstained cheeks. She felt him take her anchor hand in his own as he kissed her. It was a wet, salty kiss, but perhaps the most honest one they’d ever shared, full of pain and desperation and broken love. Too soon, he pulled away from her, standing with the slightest suggestion of tear tracks on his cheeks.

“I will never forget you.” His voice was quiet and laced with pain, regret.

Nevertheless, he turned, hands laced behind his back as he marched through the eluvian that towered over them. It shimmered a brilliant blue, then silver again.

And he was gone.

[patheticnugbaby]

So uh, I wanted to do another one.

Sleepy morning kisses from Asha’adahlen/Adahla, I forgot her vallaslin but it’s fine. Let's just pretend that everything was wonderful and perfect after Crestwood.

Also, the idea of Solas blushing gives me life for some reason and I think it’s fucking cute.

[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.”

[patheticnugbaby]

@fadedforyou I swear this is totally about them cooking together. I definitely did not get sidetracked at all. I picked campfire cooking because there’s no way the Skyhold cook was going to let Adahla anywhere near that fucking kitchen.

Outside the hollow in the rocks where they’d decided to camp for the evening the wind howled, whipping up loose snow until Adahla could scarcely see her hand should she hold it at arm’s length. Even sheltered by the stone the air was biting cold in the Emprise. Further inside Solas and Cassandra had started a fire, the latter warming their hands over it. She tapped the metal toes of her boots on a stone to alert them of her presence.

When they both looked up she held up her prize, a brace of rabbits, white as the snow outside save for the streaks of red that dripped from where she shot their little black eyes. She wanted to berate herself for not expecting the weather to flare up like this, this far south, this high up. It was too late for any of that now.

She sat at the opposite side of the fire from the other two, taking out a knife to gut and skin the little animals, “Where is Cole?”

“Helping something, I imagine. We don’t need to worry about him, Inquisitor,” Solas answered before he moved a little closer to her, taking the other rabbit from her and pulling out his own knife to help.

“I didn’t know you knew how to do this,” Adahla smiled, tossing some of the entrails into the fire.

Cassandra coughed at the sudden smell, “Excuse me,” she stood up and stalked over to the entrance of the little hollow they found and leaned against the stone there.

“What did you think I ate wandering the wilds?”

Adahla shrugged, carefully working at finishing skinning the rabbit, “I don’t know, Solas, maybe you just magicked the unsavory parts away.”

He chuckled softly, “No, some things are better done by hand.”

She nodded her agreement, then reached towards her quiver, retrieving precisely ten arrows, tying four pairs of them into firm X shapes with some string from her backpack.

“Vhenan, what’re you doing?” She almost jumped, he’d leaned over to whisper in her ear and she hadn’t noticed.

She felt the tips of her ears heat up and she sharply pushed him away with her elbow, “You hush and mind your rabbit, Messere.”

Solas laughed but he obeyed, giving her just enough time to finish binding the arrows to their shape with a good knot. She then set up a pair on opposite ends of the fire and speared her finished rabbit on the ninth arrow, carefully setting each end to rest at the crux of two opposite X’s. They gave, just a little but otherwise stood firmly, holding the rabbit above the cherry-red coals of the fire. She was crouching on the opposite end of the fire from him when she finished.

“Is that how the Dalish traditionally cook rabbits?” There was a teasing edge to his tone that made her playfully wrinkle her nose.

“Did your journeys in the fade show you a better way to cook a rabbit with arrows and string?” She rounded the fire, snatching the rabbit from his hands and set it on the last pair of X’s she made.

“No,” He smiled, taking out a skin of water and washing the blood from his hands before he offered it to her.

She took it, running the cool water over her fingers until they were clean. She wiped the dampness off on her trousers before she put the stopper back in and handed it back. Adahla took a seat next to him, crossing her legs so their knees almost touched.

“D’you have any herbs in your bag that aren’t medicinal?”

“You’re welcome to look,” Solas shrugged the bag off his shoulders, depositing it in her lap.

“You’re sure?” She tilted her head, eyes a little wide with surprise. He was usually pretty guarded with his few possessions.

“There’s nothing in that bag that I need to hide from you,” He answered simply, gazing into the fire.

Adahla was very careful when she rifled through his bag. A pad of paper, bound together with string that ran through holes punched into the paper. Probably by a nail. There were a few tightly folded shirts and trousers, she tried not to disturb them too much. Eventually, she found a little pouch, it smelled herbal but not like elfroot or embrium or any of the other herbs he occasionally picked up. She opened it cautiously, giving the contents an experimental sniff. It smelled good but unfamiliar. She chanced a glance at Solas out the corner of her eye.

He still looked to be staring into the fire but he had a little smile on his lips, the kind he had when he didn’t want to laugh outright. She huffed and wrinkled her nose before she gathered a pinch of the dried, crushed herbs in her fingers and sprinkled it over the rabbits. She brushed her hands off over the fire and closed the pouch, placing it gently back into his bag.

The little hollow was filled with the scent of cooking meat, mingling with the sharper scent of whatever she’d just sprinkled on the rabbits. Honestly, she should’ve asked before she actually used it.

“What is it called? The herbs in the little pouch.”

“In the common tongue it’s basil,” He answered, fanning his long fingers in front of the fire. “It’s good on a number of things.”

“Perhaps you could show me sometime,” She leaned on him, letting his shoulder support her.

He chuckled, wiggling his fingers a little as though to warm them better, “Would you allow me to? You’re a very controlling cook.”

“I am not!” She nudged him hard enough almost to knock him over, “You name three times I’ve been a controlling cook.”

“In the Hinterlands, we were given meat and you insisted on making a stew. Anyone who tried to help was rapped on the knuckles with a spoon. Varric’s were purple for a few days.”

Adahla rolled her eyes before locking them on the fire, “That’s only one.”

“In Haven, you offered to help with baking bread and chased away any other servants currently kneading dough with you-”

“They were doing it wrong.”

“When we first arrived at Skyhold you were peeling potatoes and confiscated the whole barrel from the kitchens until you finished all of them,”

“That’s not-”

“You never let anyone else season anything.”

“I like seasoning things!”

“The last time you and Sera made cookies you fought over the mixing bowl until you drop-”

Adahla silenced him by placing a single finger over his lips. He smiled wide, a kind of playful mirth in his eyes, or was it the fire flickering? She decided that it was both.

“You’ve made your point, Solas,” She huffed and took her hand back, straightening her back a little, “I may be a little controlling.”

“As a cook or as a person?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” She felt her lips tug into a lopsided smirk and she chanced another look at him.

He had a different kind of smile on now, were the tips of his ears a little pink or was that just the light? She couldn’t really tell. Adahla reached over and took a drink from her waterskin.

“If I do, would you show me?”

She spluttered, pounding her fist on her chest to ease the coughing fit that ensued mid drink. He reached over and patted her shoulder until she managed to stop coughing. By the time she managed it her throat felt a little sore but her face still felt like it was on fire. She glanced at him, only to find him wearing a wide, unapologetic grin. She growled and shoved his shoulder gently.

“I want you to know that you’re an ass sometimes,” She snapped, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Ir abelas, ma vhenan.” He reached over to turn one of the rabbits.

Adahla shooed his hands away and turned them herself, refusing to meet his eyes, especially after he chuckled at her.

“How can I make it up to you?”

She tilted her head, regarding him through half-lidded eyes with a slow smile on her lips, “That’s better. I’ll consider it.”

“Ma serannas.”

Adahla bit her lip just a little bit, wondering exactly how she’d have him make it up to her.

[patheticnugbaby]

Kisses

I just wanted to write a cute little fluff thing to soothe my soul after writing a trespasser fic, which is going up tomorrow afternoon.

Enjoy your kisses.

Adahla huffed, reaching back and letting her hair loose as she walked up the stairs to her rooms. It’d been an exceptionally long day of listening to human visitors prattling on about tiny issue after tiny issue. She was almost glad that she was heading out to the Western Approach tomorrow. She growled a little as she swung open the door to her quarters, unclasping her belt and laying it on the banister.

“Vhenan,” She froze, fingers in the middle of unlacing her corset; Solas lounged comfortably on the sofa, book in his hands and a little smile on his face.

“I haven’t forgotten something, have I?” She asked slowly, “Did we make plans?”

“No,” Solas smiled, setting the book aside and rising to meet her, “I just wanted to see you,” he lightly touched her cheek with his fingertips.

Adahla hugged him, wrapping her arms around his neck. He laughed and hugged her back, nuzzling into her hair.

“Long day?”

“You have no idea,” She replied, hugging him a little tighter before she pulled back, “but I don’t want to talk about that.”

“No?” He planted a soft kiss on her forehead, “What would you like to talk about then?”

“Mm. I don’t know yet,” She grinned and leaned up to kiss his nose, “I need to get out of this corset first. I can barely breathe.”

“Would you like some help?” He offered, long fingers toying with the laces.

“If you’d be so kind, ma’arlath,” She gave him a feline smile and wound her hands into the collar of his shirt, tugging him into a kiss.

His arms tightened around her waist with a breathless little chuckle that turned to a rumble when she nipped at his lip. One of her hands moved to grab at the back of his neck as his hands wrapped around her hips to lift her and set her on the banister. She broke away with a little giggle. He smiled at her, one hand resting on her hip while the other idly tugged on the laces of her corset. Adahla leaned a little closer and put a little kiss on his cheek, then his nose, then a soft one on the corner of his mouth.

“You’re in a good mood,” She smiled, one hand reaching up to run a thumb over his cheek.

“Shh,” He patiently unlaced the corset and pulled it away from her, she took a relieved breath, offering him a winsome grin, “better?”

Adahla nodded as he leaned in, planting a soft kiss on her jaw. She hummed softly, tilting her head a little as he placed another on her neck, soft enough to tickle. She laughed, ears flicking a little. She felt him chuckle more than she heard him as he kissed the same spot again, making her giggle.

“Solas, that tickles,” She grinned with another little giggle.

“Does it?” He kissed her neck again, making her nudge his head with her shoulder.

“Yes.” She growled playfully, he gave her one more before he gently tangled his hands in her hair, pulling her forward to catch her lips in another kiss.

She smiled against his lips, hooking one of her legs over his hip to tug him a little closer. He made a soft, pleased little sound and pressed her tighter to him, one of his hands wrapping around her thigh, the other still braided into her hair. She pulled away, eliciting a dissatisfied growl from him before she laid soft, warm little kisses in front of his ears, down his jaw and over his neck, using her legs to hold him to her. His hand cupped her jaw and pulled her back to him, capturing her lips in a softer, more soothing kiss. Her hands wound around his neck, one of her nails lightly scraped at the back of his ear. He pulled away from her, panting softly as his long fingers lightly stroked her cheeks.

“Ar lath,” He whispered against her lips and she smiled.

“Ar lath, ma vhenan,” She gave him a soft, warm little kiss, like butterfly wings.

They traded little kisses back and forth, on the lips, a smattering of kisses on each other’s cheeks, little pecks between their brows and on their noses until they collapsed into a fit of giggles. She grinned at him, lightly touching the tip of her nose to his, prompting another fit of giggles.

“You are marvelous, my heart,” He grinned at her, tucking a few strands of hair behind her ears and pressing another kiss on her forehead.

She blushed softly, ears flicking, “Sweet talker.”

Solas laughed, pulling her close for a warm embrace, holding her tightly. She nestled her head in the hollow of his throat with a contented little sigh, wrapping her arms tightly around his back.

“Solas-”

“Shh,” She felt him hug her a little tighter, nuzzling into her hair, “a little longer.”

Adahla smiled and closed her eyes, resting her head on his shoulder. If he wanted, she could stay there forever.

She felt him shift and she moved to look at him, nothing but warmth in his eyes, his smile, “Sit with me?”

“I’d love to,” Adahla grinned, hopping off of the banister, taking his hand and whisking him over to the couch.

She kicked off her boots then sat between his legs, her back against his chest and her head on his shoulder. He shifted a little, reaching over to grab his book, holding it in one hand so they could both read it. Adahla smiled softly, taking his free hand and pressing a kiss to his fingertips. He chuckled softly, pressing a kiss into her hair before he started to read aloud from where he left off. She snuggled a little closer, closing her eyes and leaning her head back.

She fell asleep to the smooth, soothing sound of his voice. When he was sure she was asleep he set the book aside and swept her up into his arms. He laid her on her bed, drawing the covers up over her, blowing out her candles. She shifted softly in her sleep, grabbing one of her extra pillows. He smiled, leaning over and pressing a little kiss onto her cheek, an easy warmth blooming in his chest. He put another log on the fire before he tucked her in a little better, unable to stop himself from placing another tender kiss on her face, peaceful and relaxed in sleep.

He knew he was in trouble when he finally left her but for the moment he just couldn’t bring himself to care.