#solavellentine

"Time slowed to a crawl, her breath faltering with every heartbeat, until the tension snapped and they crashed together, lips colliding in a single, sudden motion."

The war drags, people die. And, as always, he can do nothing to stop it. But Lavellan is here, and her presence brings an unexpected peace. He draws the smooth line of her shoulder, and thinks of inevitability. Of fate. Of how he never stood a chance against the brilliance of her spirit. He was always going to love her. He had tried, at the beginning, to divine the nature of her spirit. Was she determination? Pride? She certainly had enough of both, to stubbornly refuse the divine mantle when it was thrust upon her. To loudly proclaim her dalish roots. But she was also compassionate, decisive. Confident. She helped all who needed it, regardless of societal standing. The Least were just as worthy in her eyes. Yes, it was inevitable that he love her.

But Ellana…

She was never going to be tied to a single label. She was too much for any single concept to contain her. And, he did her a disservice in trying to find one, her realized. He was once more falling into the trap of trying to label elves as one did spirits. She was more.

The sweep of her closed eyelashes came to life under his hand, her cheeks flushed from exertion. Her lips bruised and swollen. The sheets by her head crumpled from where he had held them in his fists as he moved inside her.

Solas smiled sadly as he drew the long line of her back, pausing to carefully render the stump of her left arm where it lay along her ribs. Its loss was a sign of her strength.

This might be their only encounter, the only time they could drop the masks. No matter the lingering looks that passed between them over war table, and during tours of the troops, Ellana had made it clear that there was no emotion to this. No romance. They were not starting a relationship. This was pure physical release between two warlords who could not ethically bed any of those who followed them. She had insisted. No emotion.

Of course, Solas agreed. No matter that his love for her had not dimmed. No matter that he knew how badly it would hurt when she walked away.

Solas carefully traced the lines of her hair, the crease of his pillow under her head. He needed to capture this moment. Needed to see it again, immortalized on canvas when memory dimmed. To see this remarkable woman, peaceful in sleep. Sated and satisfied. Solas flexed his back as he worked, feeling the scratches she had left behind. Even in love, there was nothing meek about Ellana. She was fierce and passionate and - Solas lifted his right hand and laid it over his eyes, taking deep, slow breaths.

He loved her. Irrevocably and unchangingly. She had done what none before her had and had stolen his heart. He had given it to others, before. Husbands, and wives, and children, who had once been fixtures in his life. All now lost to the Unending War. But she had snuck into him and made off with it when he was not looking. Claimed it as her own before he even realized the theft. He feared she would never give it back.

He feared he did not want her to.

Note: the title is a reference to this song.

"Her breath thinned to nothing as he descended, his lips brushing her skin so delicately, tracing her curves until he paused at her pelvis, nibbled at her soft flesh."