They had only returned from Halamshiral three days before but after taking a day to rest, Althima spent the next two in meetings with her council as they planned for their next operations. There were still the Grey Wardens at Adamant to deal with among what felt like a never ending list of other tasks awaiting her attention. It was Josephine who chose to break for the evening, noticing they were all weary but that their Inquisitor was also visibly fatigued. They had already decided on the council’s tasks and given Althima their recommendations for where to direct her attentions next. She accepted them graciously and would determine her own next steps in the next day or so. For now, she was tired. Tired of talking and correspondence and people asking her for judgement or opinions or favors or blessings or whatever else. 

She took her supper in her room and afterward, paced around the space as she mulled over the day, allowing her mind to wander for the first time since they returned. Memories of the ball in the Winter Palace were still fresh in her mind. Gaspard and Florianne were dealt with. Brialla and Celene were allied once again, now with the Inquisition as well. And all that was a relief but she still thought about the sight of it all. The grand ballroom and her announcement and presentation to the court. The fine silks and brocades and jewels glistening in the candlelight. Music, laughter, and whispers alike all drifting through the air like smoke, as potent as it was transient. In another context it might have seemed like a fairy tale or something out of a novel she’d picked up while traveling with her father to sell his wares near some human settlement. 

Solas standing in a shadowy corner, out of the way and observing, glass in hand. He seemed somehow more at home there than most other places she’d seen him. He lit up at the machinations of the court. His comments about the power, danger, and sex that permeated events like this had lingered with her. If they had more time and perhaps less eyes on her, she might have asked him to elaborate, but they hadn’t the opportunity. 

Their dance, though, was the sweetest way that night could have ended. Not only had they achieved their goals, emerging victorious, leaving Orlais safer and more stable, gaining a powerful ally in the process, but after all was said and done, she still got to sweep around her own private dance floor in his arms. A small moment of joy amidst the chaos and danger. She felt safe there with him, without fear or worry. Their mission didn’t exist for a short while. 

Alone in her chambers, she tried to recollect the tune they’d danced to. As she hummed it to herself, changing her pitch or the melody as she searched for it, she swayed in place, then took a few steps back and to the side. Before she realized what she was doing, she was retracing their steps with her arms slightly raised as if on his shoulders, her hand in his again. Her eyes closed and she could feel it again, almost. The rhythm and sway of their movements. The cool breeze coming over the mountains and the vibrations of the crowd and orchestra just on the other side of the doors. 

When she opened them again, she wasn’t alone. Her hand flew to her heart as she gasped at Solas leaning back against the railing in front of the stairs. He had that same gentle smile on his face and his hands clasped together in front of him. 

“I apologize,” he said, “I did not mean to surprise you.”

“I didn’t expect you,” she breathed. If she was still catching her breath from the dancing or the shock, she wasn’t sure. 

“I had not seen you today, but when I arrived, I did not wish to interrupt,” he said. “It was beautiful to watch you move so freely.” Heat filled her cheeks as she smiled.  

“It feels silly almost,” she said, shaking her head, “to be dancing and daydreaming when everything is so dire.” 

“Perhaps,” he said, standing again. He began to walk towards her. “I would not recommend dancing in the throne room or a council meeting, but myself and the birds,” he glanced towards a crow sitting outside her open balcony doors, “do not mind.” He stopped and bowed to her, offering his hand as he had that night. “May I?” With a grin, she let her hand slide into his. 

“But we have no music,” she said. 

“That has not stopped you before.” He drew her close, his hand on her waist. His face inches from her own. It took nearly everything in her not to lean forward and kiss him. “Besides, I believe I can recollect a tune or two.” He smiled and began to hum as he took the first step. 

Like the birds rising and falling in the clouds outside her window, they glided about the room. His tune was not one they heard in Halamshiral nor one she’d ever heard before, at least she didn’t think she had. It was quicker and brighter than the dance they’d shared before. After a minute or two of it, the tune was nearly forgotten but for the guiding rhythm it offered them. He continued humming intermittently and she began to pick up a few notes of it, repeating the melody where he faltered. Breathless and grinning ear to ear, they twirled a bit more beyond where their breath began to fail them. Finally though, she spun away and back into his arms again, her back against his chest and both their arms wrapped around her. With that he stopped and they stood there, their breathing quick and light. She let her head fall back against his shoulder, eyes closed but her lips parted in a smile. 

It was as she imagined. It felt that way, at least. It’s so simple and childish, she thought, to find such joy in a man’s arms like this. But she was grateful for how indulgent he was. 

“Where did you learn to dance?” she asked. Her hands in his refused to let go and leave this embrace, not that he was trying to release her. 

“You remember I spoke to you of my witnessing balls like those of Halamshiral while in the Fade,” he began. His breath brushed against her ear and cheek as he spoke. “I found an echo of one long ago near where Denerim is in the waking world. A spirit of love still lingered there and saw me watching the couples dance and court one another. They offered to teach me so that I might know how to court someone similarly one day, when love should find me again.” 

“I should thank them,” Althima chuckled. 

“If we cross paths once more, I will be sure to thank them again,” he said, pressing his lips against her flushed cheek. She loosened her grip and turned in his arms to face him. Leaving his hands on her hips, she brought her palm to his cheek, resting her other on his neck. 

“And what of the song’s origin? Where did it come from?” She studied his face, endlessly fascinated by him. There was so much he knew and had seen through his walking in the Fade. 

“That is a similar story but far more precious and rare,” he said. “I happened across the echoes of a pair of elven lovers separated by circumstance before the Fall of Arlathan. Memories that old are extraordinarily rare, but this one was guarded by a Spirit of Hope that never let the young maid lose faith her lover would return to her. He did, eventually, but for a very long time, she sang that song given to her by the spirit in the hopes that it would keep the joy of their love alive even as their world seemed to crumble around them. As with a memory so old, the words have been lost as the shadows of the lovers have dwindled and all but disappeared except in the memory of that spirit, but the music persists, as music often does long after its lyrics and composers have been forgotten.”

“That’s beautiful,” she said. “It’s good that they found each other again.” 

“Yes.” 

“I’m very glad you found me,” she added. “For a number of reasons.” 

“As am I.” His hands spread across her hips further, pressing her more firmly against him. Her thumb stroked his cheek as she studied his face. For as much as she felt that she knew him, he was still so much of a mystery. The breadth of his experience continually felt both fascinating and far more extensive than she could ever truly know. There was so much uncertainty about him too. He hesitated so often and yet, they’d still shared such bold flirtations, such fiery kisses. He’d expressed an uncertainty and indecision regarding their relationship followed by confessions of love. What else was she to take from this dance but further confirmation of his affection? Regardless of his wavering though, she knew how she felt and in that moment, with her golden eyes meeting his grays, she couldn’t not speak what was in her heart. 

“Ar lath ma,” she let the words tumble from her lips. He had not heard them from her before. He hadn’t given her the chance after walking away as soon as he had said them himself. The softness ever present in his eyes shifted for a moment as he smiled at her again. There was a sadness in him. She’d seen it before but he had not spoken of it, and it seemed as though he would not speak of it. It scared her but like his uncertainty, it did not deter her. There was enough between them already that she knew whatever else he might carry with him would not sunder it. Her feelings were that strong even now. 

“Ma vhenan,” he whispered as he leaned forward. His forehead met hers and he took a deep breath. Their noses met, brushing back and forth. She wanted to kiss him so badly, she crept forward until his lips met her own willingly. Gentle and closed at first until his reluctance left him once more, then his fingers grasped at her hips and he lurched forward hungrily into her. She had a hand on the back of his neck and one clutching at his tunic as she parted her lips for him. For as strongly as they felt, they’d spent far too little time just like this for her tastes. He felt similarly though he was loath to ever admit it. 

She had never wanted someone like this before. Physically, completely, desperately. Little had ever felt so thrilling as his hands upon her body or his breath meeting hers. His tongue reached for her own as she allowed him in. Their breath was hurried yet stilted and their hearts pounded as his hands dipped up beneath her tunic just enough to feel the bare skin of her back. She wished he’d pull it off as her own fingers reached beneath his collar, eager to feel any ounce of his skin she could reach. What little he offered wasn’t enough to satisfy her then. She wondered if any touch of his could ever satisfy her if that touch would always end. 

Their lips broke apart and though their noses still touched, she felt him shake his head. For fear he’d pull away, she pressed forward and kissed him again. He didn’t, not at first. He kissed her again firmly, intently, while holding her against him with more force than he’d dared before, only to release her and take a step back. His hands drifted from their place at her back to the sides of her hips. Her own fell to his arms and down to his wrists as he backed away. She wouldn’t hold him there if he wished to leave but her wide eyes and soft, parted lips were begging him without saying a word. His hands found hers and held them tightly, thumbs drifting back and forth across her knuckles. Was this meant to be soothing? Would he leave again?

“Solas,” she said. “Will you–” She shouldn’t say it, she knows, but she can’t stop the words now. “Will you not stay,” she continued, “here tonight? With me?” His face, his eyes, they looked so sorrowful but then his smile returned. The sweet, gentle look he offered still couldn’t hide the other look in his eyes and that was the one that scared her, that left a pit in her stomach instead of butterflies. 

“I should not,” he said. “You need your rest, vhenan.” He brought her left hand to his lips and kissed the mark. 

“If you do not wish to,” she began, but wasn’t sure where she was going to end that sentence. 

“That is not– I–uh,” he stopped and sighed, looking down at their hands. “It would not be appropriate now. The last days have been long, and I should leave you to your rest.” His eyes met hers once more, careful in their expression as he sensed her unease and disappointment. He gave her a smile as he took another step backward towards the stairs, hands slipping from her own. 

Hands and arms that were once so full of love were now left empty as she watched him walk to the stairs. He seemed good at that, she thought, making the world feel so full and alive and larger than she ever considered, then leaving it feeling so small and dim and bare the moment he turned away. It seemed a trend with him, offering her understanding and affection then pulling away the moment that things became too real, too intense, the moment that she reached for him too. He stopped at the top of the stairs, giving her one final, loving look before he descended.

“Sleep well, vhenan,” he spoke softly and sincerely as though he were apologizing.

“Goodnight, Solas.”