#tooelfyfxryou

                           But I will lead them until my last breath.

The times they have that are quiet and docile are so rare that Solas is never sure that those they do have are real. But as he sits in front of the fire they had made, Regin next to him and the stars like twinkling diamonds in the sky, he feels... at ease. Strange, given their life as it was. How much of it was running and gasping for air from ever-pursuing gods.

But now... His arm remained around her waist, and as she looked up at him with a questioning glance, he smiled, gentle and full. Leaning down the bare few inches to press his lips to hers, his other arm gently moved to wrap about her, pulling her close. He felt her arms move to loop around his neck and he hummed a pleasant tone into her lips, a smile still curling his own. A deeper kiss, one he had shared with only her, meant something to both.

A love was fleeting, a connection faulty. To him, her spirit and his own were the same. Separated so long ago and only finding each other through his own unconscious providence. She filled in what he lacked and he added to an already beautiful canvas of memories, experiences, and passion.

To express all this in a kiss was difficult, but it did not mean Solas' lips did not try to wordlessly convey so many feelings.

Pulling away with some reluctance, Solas' forehead rested against hers and he caught his breath, feeling her do the same as she made a small noise in return. Content, she rested her head against his chest and he settled back again.

tooelfyfxryou

Velahari sighed pushing her hair back from her face. It had been a long trip to the exalted plains‏ and there was a lot of work to be done, people to save, rifts to close and demons to kill just to name a few things she had to do.

"Set up camp here and send the scouts out. We need to know where the rifts are and where people need our help the most." She tells one of the Inquisition Sergeants before turning and spotting a statue in the distance, a statue of a wolf, and it looked like there was something in front of the statue, something ruffly human shaped.

Six similarities between mun and muse:

Both huge assholes and bicker with people

We both have very nice butts

We both like to sleep sooooo fucking much

Way too curious and LOOOOOve it when people ask about things we like/know a lot about. We can both talk your ears off

Both like little frilly cakes

Both think everyone everywhere should have the freedom to do what they want where they want (So long as it's not like... ethically wrong)

Six Differences between mun and muse:

He is bald and I have hair down to my ass

I'm less prone to judging people or bickering with them about their culture. Solas, however, will yell at you all day about it.

He's way more confident and sure of himself

I'm not a centuries-old god parading as a mortal (so far as I know...)

eyebrow game on point and mine are not

He's way better at cards than I am, since he apparently beats people a lot

The Iron Bull was named by students and colleagues alike for his absolutely ruthless arts style. The rumors that flew about him were absolutely hilarious at times, and downright scary at others. Regardless, he and Solas made uneasy friends. The Hermitic man was usually dragged back into the sunlight to share drinks at a bar, play pool at the hall, or generally spend time with the present world. It was not that he complained- quite the opposite, but this time was different.

He'd been talking for an hour now about the tattoos. The woman was only one of three in the country that had the license to do these tattoos and they weren't cheap. Solas volunteered to tag along, if only because an excuse to visit the woman was hard to come by. Now, with Bull talking about the deeper meaning of these marks and the interesting woman herself, Solas wondered just what to expect of her.

We Will Rock You [x]

Unfortunately, the idea that one will get better at something with practice is  simply not true. After all, Antha has danced with many that night, and  she is no closer to figuring out how one is go about the task without tripping over their own feet than she was hoursprior. She has not had the benefit that others of the noble class have -- what with being stuck up in a tower for most of her life. This does not stop her. Her face is alight with enthusiasm as she winds her arms around the Inquisitor's shoulders; body swaying in what is surely a mockery of the graceful dances seen in the noble houses. 

They had been moving so much that there was so little time for sleep. When they did sleep, it would be in shifts, the ever-present feeling of the other gods too fully encompassing his mind to allow him proper rest.

As he looked around the Temple, setting up wards while Regin found a good place to bed down, something felt like it... shifted. The whispers of the Fade were kind, now, and he wondered if it was because they did not fear the pursuing gods. Perhaps it was the temple itself that asked him to rest, that there was some measure of safety here. Wary, but trustful of the Spirits, Solas finished a last Ward and found where Regin was. Already asleep, the elf moved to her side, tugging one of the thick blankets around her shoulders.

He wondered how it was she was happy with him- running around for the rest of her life, always looking over their shoulders and hoping desperately that they would not be found in a moment of peace. But he would always cling to her now, wishing to protect her rather than chance that the gods would not find their vengeance in her death.

Fatigue pulled at his eyelids, reminding him of how long it had been since he had slept. Reassurance from his wards, and feeling the pull of the Fade, Solas slipped in next to her. He pulled the blankets around them both and looped his arms around her, head dipping to rest against the gentle ride and fall of her chest. A steady, slow heartbeat drew him quickly to sleep.