Dragon Age One Shots

An Answer: Solas/Lavellan story

Solas' eyes fluttered open, his body rising from the desolate ground while the impossible happened. Even as his mind denied it, his heart recognized the silhouette tugging away his tent's door and sliding inside.

"Inquisitor," he gasped, shaken from his errant slumber as she...how could she be here after all this time?

"Shh," her gracious hand reached through the air, barely glancing against his lips, "Vhenan."

He had much to explain, to confess to her -- his heart heavy with the full truth. It almost slipped his lips in the grove, his old world nearly physical around them. But to watch her eyes turn cold to him, to lose all respect from her. He, of all people, could not go on without that. So he chose anger instead. Loss. Hate over the far more debilitating fear his past would uncover.

How was she here after his betrayal? How was this possible?

The night shifted around her, fading to reveal her perfect skin freed of the marks of bondage. Her hand pierced through the lonely air, warm fingers curling to his cold jaw. Solas' ever watching eyes closed tight, his very being leaning into that one touch. "Ir abelas, ma vhenan," he whispered the words forever locked upon his tongue. It was he who walked away, he who could not own his mistakes while in the corona of her being.

"I know," she said. Solas whipped his head up in surprise only to fall into her unending eyes. Perfect. There is no gemstone in this thedas that could compare. She crossed the space between them, her arms entwining around his chest as she pressed her lips to his ear. "Be with me, Solas."

"You do not know what you ask," he shook his head even as a thrill took control of his spine. Even as the coward inside the Dread Wolf tried to scamper away, his hands enveloped around her lithe body -- fulfilling every dream he dared have since Haven.

Her teeth grazed against his earlobe, Solas tipping his head back in exquisite agony. He hungered for her, for all of her in every way she'd give, but he didn't deserve her either. It wasn't right of him to ask.

A warm breath twirled through his ear, her words pregnant with need, "I know you."

Their lips locked in a kiss of more hunger than he'd ever known in his lifetime. She tasted of honeysuckle and clover, of a spring meadow by a crystal lake. Of his long held denial dripping through his fingers, freeing him from his imposed shackles. With each thrum of her hot tongue, he forgot himself. Why did he hold himself apart from her? From this?

Solas' hands, no longer bound by the chasteness he chose, ripped apart her leathers. The human garments she wore day in and day out while trying to correct his mistake tumbled to the ground. By the glow of an impossible light, Solas stared at what he could only picture in his mind's eye.

"You are," he brushed his forehead to hers, "more beautiful than I ever imagined."

Her lips, glistening from his kisses, lifted at the edge. It was a smile all her own, one of accomplishment, of prestige, of surprising a jaded man into believing beauty was still possible in this dead world. He would have confessed the truth, all of it for her smile, dropped to his knees and begged for her forgiveness.

"Be with me, Solas," her words echoed themselves. She was beautiful the way the moonlight off an assassin's blade is beautiful. More striking than the glint of sun rays through the forest glenn landing thrush upon a halla's wintery coat. Powerful. Strong. Dangerous.

And not only to her enemies.

"I can deny it no longer," he gasped, his hands cupping the pert breasts he tried to put from his mind. Her lips claimed his, his Vhenan's hands stripping away every fur he decorated over his body. He treated them like mantles of war, trophies to declare himself worthy of this coming fight. But in his love's hands they were proven for the truth -- childish ribbons worn by a man who believed he had nothing to lose.