His magic brushed across her skin like a living breeze, granting soft reprieve from her body's discomfort and disquieting ache. It passed across her the way his palms do when he pulls her close and whispers elvhen words of comfort in her ear, soothing down the wrinkles of tension gathered in her muscles with the ease of experience.
A relieved sigh departed her lips and crossed the room to him, who received it with a fond chuckle. "Faring better?" He inquired, somewhat smugly, but absent the imperious air he keeps for those with whom he dislikes. No, this was victory in the peace of a quiet moment shared by them alone.
"Much," she groaned indulgently, stretching like a cat from where she mulled in the bathwater, ever so slightly exposing the pink tips of her nipples to his perceptive gaze. A tease of arduous retaliation for his assumption of early victory.
"Vhenan," he warned softly, his magic forming into something more tactile around her—the press of a finger over her slit and the squeeze of a hand around her hip. His brows drew lower, and even without him nearing, she knew heat was gathering like water in his eyes, blowing his pupils towards the edges of his violet irises as he watched her arching display in response to his ghost-touch.
"Ma lath?" She answered with faux innocence, pressing her shoulder blades into the stone edge of the tub as her leg emerged from the water, her foot easing to rest over the side, opening herself to him in passive invitation. His low groan of response was a victory all its own, and she grinned mischievously. "You look quite strained, my love," she purred softly, admiring his futile restraint. "Perhaps you should partake of the bath. Relax yourself."
He chuckled, a quiet, defeated sound coated in the thrill of concession. "Perhaps you are right, vhenan. Allow me—ah," he tutted when she began to adjust to allow him space. "Maintain your prior position, if you would please. I believe I will require it for maximum relaxation."
She laughed, then, returning her leg to the side of the tub. "As you say, darling."
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Between getting Covid and this chapter ending up twice as long as originally intended (I had very important things I needed to make sure were communicated, okay?), this took a hot minute to get out. But, I hope it was worth the wait, because after 128197 words... it happens. 👀 Here be a snippet right before it all goes down:
“You know that I’ve got a good memory, ma fen, you know that. I don’t forget things easily,” She was back to nicknames, it would seem. “Well, do you know what Garrett Hawke told me when he first arrived?”
Had she scooted closer? No, that was just the way the shadows cast across them from over the wall. Surely, there was no other explanation.
“Tell me.”
“He told me,” A snort. A snort! Mellan covered her nose with one hand and squeezed Solas’ with the other, eyes closed and face cast to the ground. “He told me, that my symptoms - oh, you won’t believe a word of this - that they mean, that I’m smitten with you!”
Solas’ eyes felt wobbly.
Ah, well--that was a new sensation. He wasn’t altogether sure he’d felt that before; not in a context like this, at any rate.
Give him the credit of maintaining his composure, the world within him shook with greater violence than a Titan fighting against the bonds of--
Is this how adolescents felt? Real, true, young people? Was it always so stifling hot?
“Oh, and Solas? Solas, the best part. You’ll find this funny,” Did she even realize he wasn’t laughing? Of course not, ragged hand covered giggling mouth and she hadn’t looked up to him once since she’d started. Was he to stop her? Let her continue? Did this manner of ‘announcement’ count towards that finish line he had promised he would meet her at one day? Was this the correct path?
Ironically, she was a balter from his own path, but an enrapturing one that left him dumbstruck with each new revelation of hers. Like an impatient reader he wanted to skip ahead just a few of her pages. Have her spoil the story and tell him what lay ahead.
“He said that,”
‘What comes next?’
“That you were a ‘lucky guy;’ that we were more than dear friends.” Another giggle and their shared fate was sealed. “As if, oh, my goodness, as if you were smitten with me as well!”
Mellan shook her head for a final time, before, at last, she raised it up to meet Solas’ eyes.
“But, that would be silly, wouldn’t it?”
She hadn’t actually thought much on what she expected to see when she opened her eyes. Perhaps a smile, a shared laugh, but not a stare. Not a look from her friend that held something deep and lurking just beneath the surface of murky waters.
Not something that made her wonder if the petname she’d given him of ‘fen’ was a bit too apt, and that if she moved too quickly, some emotion would snap; and oh, dear, Mellan was nowhere near ready for whatever that emotion might be.
“W-Wouldn’t it?” Had she actually spoke aloud, or simply thought the words? Mellan supposed she might have mouthed them, let them fan across her teeth. It took a real gulp of purest bravery for her to truly speak heartily again. “S-So, um, academically. Academically… my symptoms.”
‘Spirits, even my nose feels like it's on fire; I probably look like a tomato to him. Why couldn’t I just keep my mouth shut? Why couldn’t I just learn the blasted dance and be done with it all?!’
“Thought? Your thoughts?”
Peculiar, even by their standards, Solas held a single chuckle in his chest. Barely hiding his lip, he rested fingers upon it to shield the smallest smile as he turned to think.
“My thoughts,” he began, a twinge of well-measured mirth to his tone. “Are that Ser Hawke is far more attentive than I gave him credit for.” And that he could now confirm that he had been a right prick to the man, but that was neither here nor there at this point.
Out of the corner of his eye he could see Mellan take a gulp for air, most likely absorbing the information he had technically-not-confirmed - and, therefore, was still following his own personal set of rules - but, also not at all denied. The blessing was that he knew she was smart, and that she knew precisely what he was getting at, all with his plausible deniability still perfectly intact.
He still was just as much of a prick, wasn’t he?
“A--hm,” She nodded, readjusting herself yet again, back straightening. Solas could see how her shoulders rolled back beneath her braids like branches beneath leafy willows, how her chest rose and fell across the skin exposed above her ill-fitting tunic. “I see. So, then, I suppose you are suggesting that Garrett’s observation was, ah, correct?”
“No, I am declaring it.” To him it was not a subject for debate.
Read the rest here on Ao3!
I hope you guys are excited and enjoy because holy moly I’ve been fucking amped for this jerhbuerbgueibguearburbygber I really hope it was worth the wait and this chapter is enjoyable D’x Love y’all!!
I am excited to say that I am featured in the Solas-centric Zine, Solasmancy! You can preorder until December 20th and all proceeds go towards helping the Indian Residential School Survivors Society. Thank you @solasmancyzine for all your hard work!
This is my little preview, featuring Solas dealing with Istie Lavellan (who may be familiar to some of my followers), an elderly Inquisitor who won't stop calling him da'len.
“Da’len, have some tea.”
She sits next to him under the lean-to and offers him a small cup. Solas shakes his head.
“Thank you, but no. I do not like tea.”
“You just haven’t had my tea. It’s an old Dalish recipe. Try it -- we have both had a long day.”
Indeed the constant cold rain of the Storm Coast has made for miserable travel.
“That’s very kind of you but --”
“I’m going to get very irritating until you drink it.”
Solas gives her a long suffering look, which she bears with the smile tugging in the corner of her mouth -- an exchange they have repeated so often over the weeks.
I swear, my brother can smell when I’m feeling stressed on the wind like some sort of hound dog.
Well, he kidnapped me today for a sibling day, and my partner made sure to take care of and watch our kitty, so I was able to actually unclench for a bit (or, at the very least, was forced to.) I think I needed it, though. I’m winding down, and going to be getting back to watching her, but I wanted to post an official update of the newest chapter, just because routine really helps me, too. Thank you, @noire-pandora & @emerald-amidst-gold for tagging me, I hope you enjoy. 🖤
Chapter 13: Indisposed
Aislin could finally let her guard down once Cullen came to her side, shucking off his furs in a heartbeat to wrap them around her shoulders. However, the redhead didn’t stay by his side long, imploring him and the medics to concentrate on her sister in the snow. Aislin had retained injuries, yes. She was cold, but that wasn’t important; her sister was bleeding out and she could not lose her.
Cassandra, thanking the Maker that the Heralds were alive, now nodded to Aislin and ordered the medics to begin lifting Mellan from the snow. The Chantry’s surviving medics weren’t sure the severity of the woman’s injuries, but before Aislin had the chance to describe the gash to them, the aforementioned wolf among the tree-line moved. Cassandra, equal parts thankful that she had convinced Solas to evacuate and worried for the look on his face, moved aside as he darted past to come directly to his dearest comrade’s side.
One of the more foolish medics made a move to come up to Solas, possibly drag him away from the Herald, but Cullen’s strong arm swiftly reached out to lock a grip on the young man’s shoulder. Pulling him back, the Commander shook his head. Absolutely not.
Cullen may not know, or understand, the specifics of whatever strange relationship the two elves had, but he would let Solas have his space with the woman.
Especially with the way Solas was petting her damp hair away from her pale face.
His familiar voice whispering to her was the one that finally cut through the noise. “Da’len? Mellan, are you with me?” Mellan blinked, her glossy orbs clearing just slightly as she turned her attentions to Solas and weakly smiled.
“Solas.” she mumbled happily, before he began to lift her up and out of the snow. The group had begun to hasten back; the survivors having set up a camp nearby. There were fires built, and medical supplies at the ready; far better ways they could all help the Heralds than out here in the cold.
Looking down to where she had been in the snow, Solas felt his stomach lurch at the bright red proof of how the dragon’s tail had whipped the woman. It was leaking onto his hands now, as he cradled her tight against his chest. It was the warmest he could keep her at present, and she had to stay awake for just a little while longer.
Following the others in a pack, the mage looked down to the elf in his arms.
It was against his greater mission to begin to… to care for them. To see the people of this world as something more than beings to be fixed. He had awoken in an unrecognizable place where most everything and everyone had their conscious connection to the Fade severed. He had to do whatever he must to restore that connection, but now the idea of seeing a specific member of this tranquil populace as just that felt like a betrayal against her. Against his comrade.
What was it another had once said, before he betrayed him in turn?
‘They’re stronger than you think, you know.’
Continue reading here on AO3
I told you guys I needed those Felassan lines for a reason! And its only going to get worse throughout the chapter.
Tagging anyone who would like to share (as usually, no pressure), and local sweethearts, @cartadwarfwithaheartofgold @dungeons-and-dragon-age @varric-tethras-editor @the-dreadful-canine @dreadfutures @blueheaded @whataboutbugs @oxygenforthewicked @pikapeppa @ashalle-art @palepinkycat @kantrips @shift-shaping @fiadhaisteach @dalish-spectre @drag-on-age @dumbassentity 🖤
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Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
