Chapter Text
Wandhis walked the grounds of Skyhold, helping the healers treat the wounded, bringing them herbs and sometimes casting spells on those who suffered from great pain.
She enjoyed being useful, and the Inquisition’s members treated her kindly. It was a welcome change after the humans she encountered in Orlais years ago.
Taking the stairs to the upper courtyard and turning to go to the main hall, she heard familiar voices coming from behind, and a smile spread through her face when she gazed the two men.
“I hope you’re ready to pay me a beer after I knock you down. Regarding you’re still conscious.”
Blackwall smirked, pointing his sword to Solas, and the elf’s grin went wider, his tone ever superior. “As long as you can rely on your legs this time.”
The human frowned, his hoarse voice as threatening as his posture, his shield up. “I slipped. It was snowing that day.”
“Then you’re in luck the sky is clear.” Solas prepared his staff, casting barriers around them both, and waved his hand slightly, telling the warrior to come at him.
The warden charged towards the mage, that conjured an ice pillar on his way, and the warrior avoided it surprisingly fast, his sword whirring near the elf’s pointed ear, until it stopped, and the human sensed the hilt suddenly immobile in his hand.
Wandhis was impressed to see that in less than one second, Solas had moved the pillar close to him, and now Blackwall’s sword was embed in the ice.
The mage stepped to his side, getting some distance from the warrior, and moved his hands, conjuring more ice to immobilize the warden, when Blackwall shoved his shoulder against the pillar, freeing his sword. He gazed the mage, his expression fierce.
Solas kept undisturbed, even though he had to rearrange his spell at the last minute, squinting slightly to maintain his concentration. But when he was ready to freeze the warden, the warrior was faster, and his shield flew against the elf’s stomach.
The mage made it to block part of the impact involving himself with the Fade, though he still went out of air when the metal hit his diaphragm, unraveling his balance, he gasped with a small “Ooff!”.
He placed his staff before him, supporting his weight on it, and fade-stepped across the warrior, that turned around hastily, following the glimpse of magic to charge against the elf again.
When he saw the mage materializing himself close to him, cracked a small grin of victory, and suddenly he was flying, the Stone Fist spell made his back hit the wooden fence of the ring.
The impact made Blackwall throw his head back, supporting himself on his elbows, and when he gazed Solas again, the mage was preparing another spell, making green sparkles dance around the warrior while he casted a Veil Strike.
The warden threw his body to the side, sword in hand, and the ground shook with the impact, rolling and catching his shield in the middle of his movement, again coming close to the mage, that jumped to avoid his sword, it almost swept his feet.
Still, Blackwall was faster, and while the mage was still in the air, the warrior pushed him against the fence, his shield immobilizing the elf’s hands.
“Gotcha.” He grinned in victory, but again fell on the ground, a sudden explosion of willpower had hit him. He tried to sit up with haste, but a blade already touched his neck, preventing him from moving.
“Well fought.” Solas bore a content grin, holding the pointed edge of his staff in front of the warrior for a few seconds, then putting it away and offering his hand.
Blackwall snorted, accepting defeat, and took the mage’s hand. “Don’t you ever run out of magic? I’ve seen Dorian having to rely on his muscles a few times, but not you.”
“I told him he might conserve more energy with a less ‘flashy’ style.” Solas spoke while tidying his robes.
“I believe his exact words were ‘And I might live longer eating only rice and cooked vegetables, but that’s just as unlikely.’” The elf shrugged, shaking his head while he remembered of the arrogant Tevinter, and wrapped his staff with some straps on his belt, keeping it on his back.
Blackwall snickered, a disapproving grin cracking on his expression while he put the shield on his back too. “That sounds like the bastard.”
The elf continued. “I grew accustomed to being alone. Thus, I must be prepared for everything. You never know when you will encounter templars, eager to fulfill their righteous duty of incarcerating an apostate in their circles.” A tone of irony coated his last words.
The human raised his eyebrows while sheathing his sword. He found it impressive that the elf had no restraint, and spoke his mind freely, conveying his criticism, even surrounded by templars.
Then, a sight made him smile, and he touched the elf’s shoulder slightly, pointing his thumb suggestively at the woman that stared at them, wondered. “I think someone came to see you.”
“That was amazing!!! Do you guys always fight like that when in the field???” Wandhis stood before the ring, both arms folded around a sack of herbs, now empty.
“Whenever we find those blasted pride demons. Cursed things.” Solas saw Blackwall frowning while he said the words, and the phrase secretly amused him.
Then, the elf turned his face to his apprentice, and couldn’t help but grin at her presence. As always, her eyes scattered every little detail, absorbing knowledge in any way possible.
He stepped towards her, leaving the training ring. “I imagine you’re eager to comment, Lethallan.”
“Yes! I noticed you anticipated most of Blackwall’s movements and managed to counter them with remarkable speed. Is that experience, or technique?”
She could barely contain her excitement, ceasing the distance before them, thirsty for information.
Her movement made Solas’s heart pound in his chest, and he sincerely hoped that that meant he was just excited to exchange wisdom, and nothing else.
“Ah. I’ve been meaning to discuss the matter with you. In the Fallow Mire, you were lucky to have Dagna watching your back, or the corpse might’ve hurt you, or even killed you. To prevent that, you must keep your guard raised.”
While he spoke, he stepped beside her, spreading his feet to demonstrate his posture, picking his staff with one hand, and leaving the other extended in front of him, prepared for a counter move.
Seeing that Wandhis copied his moves, he gave her his staff, and circled her, putting some distance from the woman.
“You also want to have your barriers well sustained, and wide, establishing a perimeter around you.”
Then, when she had done as he instructed, he walked behind her and involved his hand with the Fade, preparing a Stone Fist towards her head, advancing subtly while he spoke.
“By the time someone tries to catch you off guard-“
He couldn’t finish, when she turned hastily, using the staff to immobilize his arm, while dispelling his stone fist, and her other hand went near his heart, now involved in lightning.
Automatically, he slapped her hand weakly, putting it away, and the spark of lightning cut the sky beside them, though he didn’t even see it, he couldn’t stop staring at her, wondered by her skills.
“Impressive.” He exhaled, his voice low with surprise, contrasting with the loud thunder, and they returned to their previous postures, she retrieved his staff.
For a brief moment, she sustained his gaze, confident, and their fingers lingered on each other, around the wood.
Then something changed in her look, and she pulled away, bowing to him. “Thank you for the lesson, Lethallin. I should go back to the garden now.”
“Of course.” He nodded, grinning to her slightly, and watched her go.
While she moved, his eyes scanned the delicate golden skin that glowed against the afternoon light, and her shiny white hair, straight lines waving throughout her back, while several braids, tidied by flowers and branches, danced along with the moon-toned strands.
Then, his gaze lowered to her mesmerizing hips, that moved from one side to another while she took the stairs, and only when she reached the top that he turned away, mad at himself for being inappropriate.
He looked around and felt relieved to notice that Blackwall was long gone.
-
Wandhis entered the main hall, and stopped walking for a moment, starting to turn her body around, when she shook her head, and straightened her posture. A foolish idea.
She knew what she would find. And it wouldn’t be sunshine eyes, nor golden hair. Much less a sword and a shield.
She stilled, looking forward. She thought she had gotten over that.
Then why did she see Ara’lan?
She could not stop seeing warm yellow eyes, staring deeply at her, their fingers touching around the staff. Though this wasn’t her ancient oak staff, and the touch wasn’t hers, it was much more experienced and gentle.
Even so, something in Solas just called for her. And reminded her of someone long gone.
Opening the door to the garden, another elf interrupted her thoughts, and she gladly accepted the change of focus.
“Wandhis! There you are. Someone took a quarter of our mint stock! I believe I saw who it did, but…I can’t remember. Do you think it was magic?”
The mage smiled to the apothecary, and, retrieving the empty sack of herbs, turned back to the door, heading to the tavern. “I might have an idea.”
The fact that she might encounter Solas again on the way of finding her spirit friend brought a warm sensation to her heart.
And the memory of charming lips, very close.