Pride, Wolf and Rebellion

Soap

The room held a table and some small chairs, plus a fireplace Solas took to immediately. Within seconds, there was a slight but warm glow taking to the expanse of the space. Solas examined his surroundings and placed his pack on the table, eyeing a small stone bed surrounded by storage chests and shelving.

The corner of the space was walled off with a sheer curtain that half-concealed a stone bath illuminated by the strange red light emanating from the wall.

"I wonder if it still works," said Fen'Asha. She touched her face, noting the thick earth crusted to her skin. She turned the nearby knobs, hoping for signs of life beyond the burbling noises springing from deep within the adjoining walls. After a few moments, murky water fell from the corroded spigot and dumped its smeared solution into the tub. She frowned.

Soon, luckily, water ran pure and cool. She turned another handle, fiddled with the controls. The water warmed, the last of the mud wandering down the trench. She plugged it and watched the bathtub fill.

"We can take a bath," she said, dreamily. We?

"After you, Inquisitor," said Solas. He was near the table, rifling through his things.

She examined her surroundings and confirmed her fears: there was nowhere to uncloak. The water was filling the tub, inviting her. She bit her lip, slipped off her clothing, upright for a moment in her undergarments and perceiving Solas from the corner of her eye. He wasn't looking. He was poking the fire.

She slid the last of her undergarments over her head and dunked a toe in the water. It was mild and she knelt, first ducking the rest of her leg before gliding all the way into the tub. She felt the stone under her bare hindquarters, sitting still and then pooling water in her hands to finally cleanse the filth from her face.

"Would you like some soap?" asked Solas.

Fen'Asha leapt as she spotted his hand nudging around the corner of the curtain with a small bar presented for her convenience. She offered her thanks and sniffed its tender scent, gathering the sense of elfroot blossoms and touching it to her skin. She thought of Solas as she worked his soap into a lather, rubbed his soap over her skin, flickering thoughts of his hands, letting the bubbles cleanse her from the day's drudgery.

Job done, she pulled the plug and stood. Towels. There were no towels. She flushed, the cool of the room blending with her embarrassment and producing a rush of resourcefulness. She shook her limbs, watching water turn to drops and tumble into the draining tub. She twisted her hair, pressing the water out of each strand.

"Feeling better?" asked Solas. He wasn't watching, but the question implied attentiveness.

Fen'Asha nodded and stood, her form silhouetted against the curtain. Sure of his glance, warm from his eyes. She slithered into her smallclothes, suddenly and acutely aware of how everything felt. She inhaled, tried to still her hasty pulse. She stepped out of the bath.

Pulling her pants on turned out to be quite a struggle. They were snug over her still-damp skin and she wiggled into them, the silver wolf of her necklace springing from one peak to another and back again.

Solas' gaze turned away, a slight grin curling across his lips.

Fen'Asha huffed and buttoned her pants at last, pleased with the eventual success.

"Satisfied?" asked Solas.

"Very."

"Surely you must be famished after such an ordeal," he said.

Fen'Asha saw that he'd pulled food and drink from his pack and presented it on the stone table, a small but starry-eyed meal for two. With the fire gently crackling and the perfume of elfroot blossoms still lingering, it felt cozy. It felt like a home.