Chapter Text
"We'll have to go back in soon. Celene will no doubt want to speak with you, Adaar." Cassandra sighed, wincing slightly at the way Adaar's head dropped back.
"Of course she would." He already knew that, but still. A moment's rest would be greatly appreciated. He slowly made himself get up, everyone cleaning off as best they could before heading back into the ball. Hopefully to wrap up the politics, at least for the night.
Adaar found himself on the balcony, waiting for the Inquisition forces to be ready to move out after he had officially concluded his business with Celene. Morrigan had apparently joined their merry little crew, so that was something. A good something, Adaar hoped.
"I'm not surprised to find you out here," Solas spoke, finding his place against the railing, next to Adaar. "Thoughts?"
"It's been a very long day." Adaar sighed, gaze fixed on the view before them.
"For everyone, I'd imagine. It's nearly over, now. Cullen is giving the men marching orders as we speak." His hand rested against Adaar's arm, a comforting presence. "Come," Solas looked at him, a small smile gracing his lips. "Before the band stops playing, dance with me." He held his hand out, beckoning the qunari to join him.
Adaar watched him for a moment before laughing and shaking his head, taking his hand. "I'd love to." A distraction, one Adaar would gladly take. They held each other, slowly moving through the steps of the dance. "Are you alright?..."
"Fine, yes." He nodded. "I hate to give Sera credit, but she's an excellent marksman. The Duchess had barely cut me, nothing to worry about.” It had already healed over, likely a result of his own magic. “You had no such luck, however." He looked up at Adaar.
"I'm alive enough to dance, so there's that. Honestly, the politics were more taxing than anything else." He gave a small smile, dropping it a moment later when it was clear Solas didn't want to make jokes. "I could have lost you." He broke, pain seeping into his voice. "I was reckless and it nearly cost you your life and there was nothing I could do about it. I can’t let that happen again."
"I am here, Adaar. We both are. Remember what happened, but do not dwell on it. We have much more to focus on than what could have been."
Adaar was going to refute that before Joesphine appeared, knocking her hand against the open door.
"Sorry to interrupt," she smiled, polite tiredness dancing around her eyes. "Our forces are ready to move out, Inquisitor. Leliana has secured a hotel within Val Royeaux, so you'll be able to rest before we get back to Skyhold, as well as have your wounds tended to by local medics."
"Thank you, Jose." Adaar smiled at her, leaning down to gently pressing his head against Solas' before pulling away. "Shall we?" He squeezed Solas' hand. The elf nodded, reluctantly leaving the moment behind.
They made their way to the hotel, more than happy to rest. They'd be treating wounds first, though. Sera and Cassandra, luckily, didn't have very harsh injuries. A few potions and rest would do them well and Solas was practically unharmed.
Adaar, however, at the very least needed to have the arrow head removed from his back. He laid on a bed, a medic coming in with a pair of quills. They apologized for any future pain, asking him to hold still.
He tensed, breath hitching as the quills entered his wound, methodically moving around until they hit the arrow. They covered the barbs on the back of the arrow head, letting it come out much easier, leaving the skin without tearing through it.
They nodded to him, placing the arrowhead on a desk. Adaar pushed his head up, downing the last bit of ale left in the bottle he had been given.
Solas dismissed them, wetting and ringing out a rag before gently running it over the wound, slowing slightly as Adaar flinched. He cleaned the wound, washing the blood from his hands before handing Adaar a potion. "Vhenan."
"Thank you." He sighed, slowly sitting himself up to drink it. Relief washed over him, more so as he felt Solas' hand gliding over the wound, magic tying it back together.
"You should consider the use of shields. Even in disuse, they'd offer protection to your back."
"I'll wear heavier armor." Adaar chuckled, wincing when Solas wrapped a finger around a strand of hair, tugging on it with more force than necessary. "Ah-! Solas ."
"Hm?" He asked, a smile on his face. "Something wrong?"
Adaar rolled his eyes, moving his head back, hitting Solas with his horns.
"Ah-" he chuckled, pushing Adaar's horns away. "Was that necessary?"
"Only as necessary as you pulling my hair." Adaar smiled, doing it again.
"Adaar-" Solas laughed, ducking down.
"Oh, I'm sorry," he laughed, bending back, torso twisting so that they were facing each other. "Did I do it again? My bad." He smiled wide, teasing.
"Adaar." Solas hissed through a smile, getting up in his face. "Ar lath ma, vhenan."
Adaar leaned down, pressing a kiss against Solas' lips. "Ar lath ma," he echoed, "kadan."
They stayed like that for a time, heads pressed together, breath syncing up for brief moments. A rare moment of peace in a chaotic world.
"Now," Solas spoke, pulling away after pressing a tender kiss to Adaar’s lips. "Sit still. Let me finish with healing your wounds." Magic danced around his fingers as he brushed his hand over Adaar’s head, easing his headache as it worked to seal cuts and tears.
Adaar would much rather cuddle, but that could wait just a bit longer.