Something just didn't feel right, tonight.
Her body constantly rolled and squirmed from underneath the wisp-thin sheet of fabric. Distractions tended to keep her awake such as noises and light bouncing off the walls. But tonight was still. Tonight was the perfect kind of night to fall asleep to.
So why couldn't she sleep?
All she could see when she shut her eyes was the glow of green. It was the stuff nightmares were made of. Bodies littered the ground and, until recently, they were all piled on her. It didn't matter the this sentence was lifted. For the rest of her days, Lavellan would know what had happened. She would take that to the earth. There was no point in trying any longer. Sleep would have to come for her. Until then, she had to pass the time.
Cautiously, she brushed her feet on the floors of Skyhold. The thunderous snores of Iron Bull reached her from even down the hall. Who on earth could she talk to at this time of day? Cassandra was with good intent and she had known her the longest of all but she didn't care for their conversations. Whenever she talked to her, the Seeker seemed to have the dissonant look behind her eyes. It was as if she just couldn't understand what the inquisitor could be worried about. It made her feel overemotional or something.
Hmmm. What about Cole? Did he even sleep? If not, there could not be a possible way to disturb him. Where did he like to go. In the shadows and corners of the darkest room. Heck, he could have been in this very room. He could be staring at her even now.
Shake it off, girl. Focus.
It was times like these she wished to run back into the wood; the only place she had known. It was home. Not this.
A slight detail caught her interest. A pale sliver of moonlight peeked through the door's crack. It was barely thin enough for a person to get through but maybe enough if you sucked your innards in. She turned her body in, getting a good look at whoever, or whatever, was outside. Down the large, winding steps of stone was a short cut of lawn. There, she saw the ebb and tide of a flame warming pale skin.
The elven woman was nothing if not fatally curious. She pranced down the steps, watching her toes bounce. As she came closer, the smell of a smoldered campfire played with her nose. She was near enough to him to be noticed in return. She could feel her cheeks rise with a smile. That bald head was unmistakable.
“Mind if I join you?”
Solas took a sharp inhale. He must have not heard her coming. Perks of being a rogue.
“Not at all.” He shimmied his legs farther to the right, leaving her a comfortable amount of space on the moss green blanket he put down for himself.
Lavellan could hear her sighing into the night as she shimmied her body to comfort. She must have been annoying Solas, distracting him with her attention deficit ways. Still, the silence begged to be broken.
“Is it just me or are the stars brighter that usual?”
She could hear a smile cross the elven man's lips. His laugh, even muffled and plain, demanded to be heard. It was deep yet clear as the clink of a glass. “They seem that way, don't they? The closer you get to the city, the less dazzling they become. That's why I prefer it out here; It's simpler, not as much noise.”
The young woman's artichoke eyes leapt from one cluster of lights to another. A wave of calm crashed over her like water to rocks. A lengthy melodic sigh escaped her as she breathed in the cool air through her nose.
“It really is lovely.”
His slender fingers weaved with one another as they rested just below his navel. His breaths, slow and steady, lifted them up and down, again. “I used to do this every night. I would fall asleep staring at the stars. Looking at them, just knowing that they were a countless many...it takes the one-ness out of everything.”
Lavellan pictured a young clean shaven man traveling afoot across the land. His home was whatever little he could fit into his back and take with him.
“You've been on your own for a long time, huh?”
Solas gulped hard, still staring into the sky.
“I've said too much. I should be asking about you. I...Forgive me.”
She shook her head. “There's nothing to apologize for, Solas. Besides, I have nothing to say. Before all of this, I had to have been the least interesting person alive.”
A single deep chuckle filled his chest before he turned on his side, facing her. A fingertip traced the blanket as he replied, “Somehow, I find that hard to believe.”
The Inquisitor craned her head back as she caught his eyes. Hers, for a second, rolled into the far corner as she contemplated her next words. “Can I share something with you?” She said in almost a whisper.
Solas shrugged.“Sure.”
“I overheard you the other day in Skyhold, when you were talking to Dorian.”
“Oh, right. We were talking about Metaphysiology.”
“Yeah. You were talking about your journals on the fade and then you started arguing with him about the Harrowing-”
“I like to think of it as a impassioned debate but, yes, go on.”
She dropped her chin down. The sound of her tongue clicked and her breath was nearly tangible. “You're smart...y'know and I'm..well...not smart.” Quickly, she sat up. He mirrored her movements. All the while she stared at her palm. The very sight of it nauseated her. “I just don't know why I had to be the one. Why did I have to be the one who got this....I don't even know what to call it.”
“A river.” He interjected. The woman froze with a raised eyebrow before he explained. “When I was young, I asked my mother what the lines in my right hand where. She said...” Instinctively, Solas took a hold of her seemingly pure hand. “that our hands are maps to other worlds, to beautiful worlds. No one wants to travel and admire the flattest of earth; they want to see every crevice and mountain that gives them pause, and our hands wish to be remembered. This line is your river. This hand is your world.”
“A world that I do not wish to be a part of.”
“I feel the same, sometimes. About this world, I mean. But, when you look at everything individually, just as it is instead of in the larger violent sense, then it all seems tolerable....even, quite wonderful.”
His stormy blue irises lingered upon it, taking note of every detail and admiring it's unique tapestry. With a thumb, his traced the deepest of lines, wherein. Something about his face seemed different, in that moment. His usual pale and simple color warmed. There was a color to his cheeks and his eyes went from cold to fiery. The whole time, his attentions were magnetized to her hand.
“Tell me. Do you find my hand a fascinating phenomenon for study or do you just have a fetish for that sort of thing?” She grinned.
Solas' color bled out. He pulled his hand away, stammering.“I...didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable.”
“No.” She nervously laughed. “You're not...That was just my left hand doing the talking for me. She's the jealous type, you know.”
His color returned, even deeper a hue. “Oh?” His eyes brightened with the arch of a single brow. After a juicy pause, the corner of his lip curled. “Is little lefty feeling a bit lonely, now?”
She nodded, allowing her desire to be more palatable than intended. With his hand still retaining her right, his spare went to hers stroking the knuckles of her fingers as he steadily pulled it closer. He looked to one, then another both in his grasp and pressed his lips against the smooth backs of her hands. With each peck, his gaze wandered the elven woman's face, gauging for a cue to either stop or continue.
Then,
“Aaugh!” Her body did a somersault back. Stunned, Solas paused in the position. After a beat or two, he turned to his shoulder only to find a familiar pale young face.
“Cole, how many times must I tell you not to do that?”
He blinked and ran his round eyes over the two. “You can see me?”
“Of course we can see you!”
Like a beaten pup, the spirit recoiled. His voice maintained it's even tone with a twinge of hurt.
“Please don't be upset with me. I just wanted to watch.”
Lavellan quickly stood, brushing strips of grass off of her sleeves. Her breath was still ragged. “You know what? I'm...I should be going to be, now. Josephine wants me to look over some paperwork tomorrow and, Creators, that will take all day. I'll see you around?” She waited for the boy to nod then turned. “Solas.” She bobbed her head before turning away.
“Good night...Inquisitor.”
Cole inched closer to the elf. His body was kneeled before him.
“You're mad at me.”
Solas bit his lip. A cold breath filled his throat.
“No, no. It was never your intention and I know that.”
Cole skimmed the ground. He pursed his lips, searching for the thought.
“But weren't you about to kiss her?”
Solas' attentions ran right through the boy that sat in front of him. The further she walked away, the harder his stomach became.
“I don't know.”
I just kinda assumed they would literally show the first hour, so I avoided it.
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