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The robes certainly would not leave much to the imagination.
Isii slipped the thin shift over her head, wriggling as she pulled it down into place. It felt strange against her skin - silken and yet unlike any cloth she had seen before. It was not completely sheer, yet light moved through it easily, outlining her form beneath each draped angle. It had no sleeves- just two thick woven bands where the folds of cloth met at her shoulders. The front dipped in a low v, reaching down to the base of her ribs, her back similarly exposed. She took the sash she’d found with it - she assumed it was to be worn as a belt - wrapping it low on her waist.
Isii took a moment to look into her mirror, studying the garment. It was an ancient relic - something they had found in a set of crumbling ruins and yet despite its age it remained perfectly intact. Solas had said something at the time about spirits and preservation but all she could think about was the initial look on his face when he saw it. There was something there, some thought that struck him in that instant before being immediately pushed aside. She was well aware of that look by now. She’d seen it in the times when his eyes would dart to her lips before he changed the subject - times when he’d reach out to touch her before retreating, thinking the motion had slipped her notice. It was a brief moment of intrigue, an unstated hunger that disappeared beneath his calm demeanor as quickly as it had appeared.
She’d quietly slipped the robes into her pack when he wasn’t looking.
She smiled at her reflection now, biting playfully at her lip, an excited flutter simmering in her stomach as she grabbed her dressing gown to cover herself. It was made in the shemlen style, designed more for modesty than anything salacious. She was still tying it into place as she hurried down the steps leading from her quarters. She wanted to catch him before he left the basement archives. It was one of the few places in Skyhold where she knew she could get him alone.
There were a few sets of eyes that turned her way curiously as she walked through the main hall. It was a bit early in the day to expect to see the Inquisitor in what amounted to her bedroom attire, but she knew if she held her head up and walked with purpose that none would question her. She was certain Vivienne was probably clicking her tongue disapprovingly from the loft upstairs but she cared little for that now.
She padded as quietly as possible into the lower levels, creeping toward the archive breathlessly, biting back her grin as she saw him leaning over the table, pouring over a tome. He did not look up as she closed the door behind her but it was clear he was well aware of her presence. “Is there something you need?” he muttered distractedly, his eyes scanning the page.
Wordlessly she slipped the dressing gown off, letting it fall behind her. She waited through an unbearable moment of silence before his eyes finally lifted. Her satisfaction was instantaneous as she watched him take her in - a look of surprise, eyes widening, quickly scanning her before settling into something altogether different, something unspoken, a tightly wound tension. His lips parted but there were no words at first, a hesitation before his tongue slowly whetted them, beginning again.
“I see you kept the robes.”
She laughed lightly, grinning. “Is that all you’re going to say, Solas?” His eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched as he stared at her. She stepped closer, each movement precise and calculated. She was conscious of the angle of her shoulders, the roll of her hips, pleased to see he was equally as attentive. “What do you think?” she asked playfully, giving him a slow turn. There was a heated longing in his eyes as he looked her over and she relished his gaze, feeling somehow victorious that she’d been able to provoke a response from him that he so rarely showed. Still, he did not let go of his ever-present reserve, his brow lifting as she turned to face him.
“They are well-suited to you, vhenan,” he said calmly, “though there is one detail you have gotten wrong.”
“Oh?” She tilted her head, looking up at him.
He nodded. “May I?” he asked, stepping closer.
“By all means,” she purred.
He lowered his hands to the sash at her waist, fingers slowly worrying the knot loose. Her heart skipped, breaths shallow as he stood close, so very close, pulling the tie from her. The robe hung loosely at her shoulders now - she knew at this angle all it would take would be one short glance downward and he would be able to see far more of her than he had previously. Part of her silently begged him to take advantage of the opportunity, her skin heated with anticipation, but he kept his eyes at a more modest level, slipping the sash higher along her back before wrapping it just below the swell of her breasts. The brush of his hands through the cloth drove her wild as he wound the bolt around her once more, tying it so that one end of the cloth hung longer than the other, draping along her side. His hand traced its path - her ribs, her waist, her hip, her thigh. She could hear his hitched breaths, see the way his eyes searched her, gliding up the length of her until they settled on her lips. He leaned forward, a small movement and she angled her chin up, ready to meet the press of his mouth, waiting for him to close the distance.
Then, he stopped. His hand tightened briefly along her thigh before retreating, his gaze shifting as he took a step back. “Better,” he murmured. “I believe it was tied in this fashion.” He took another step but she wasn’t going to let him pull away. Not after that. She hooked her hand behind his neck and pulled him forward, capturing his mouth with her own.
It was as if the kiss lit a fire in his veins, tearing down the thin reserve he’d been clinging to. He pressed her into a few staggering steps until her back hit the bookcase, his fingers sinking into her hair, angling her head back. She moaned hard against his eager tongue, writhing against him, her arms wrapping around his neck. He held her close, searching her with his free hand and she shivered. The feel of the cloth beneath the press of his fingers made her skin come alive with sensation. He slipped the robe off of one shoulder, his lips searching the newly exposed skin and she leaned her head back against the shelves, raking her nails lightly against his scalp. His mouth ended its trail at her neck, his fervor lessening as he nuzzled against her cheek. She grinned, humming softly as he pulled back, looking into her face.
“I get the distinct impression you like seeing me like this.”
“It is an unexpected sight,” he murmured. “One that is certainly not displeasing.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” she purred, nipping at his lips with her teeth.
His fingers loosened their hold on her hair. “I should get back to work,” he said, his tone lowering. “There are… tasks that require my attention.”
“And what if I require your attention?” she asked, her eyes darting between his own. “Would you like to finish this conversation in my quarters?”
She could see him debating himself and she prayed that this time he would finally give into her offer. She knew her answer when he leaned forward, pressing a chaste kiss to her forehead. It was a gesture she knew all too well by now. “Another time, perhaps,” he said calmly.
She let out a slow sigh, her jaw clenched as he backed away from her. “Right,” she said, nodding. She gathered the dressing gown, slipping it back over her shoulders. “Well, thank you for your opinion on the robes,” she said as he watched her. “I’m rather fond of them myself. I think I may sleep in them tonight.” She kept her eyes on him, closing the distance to press a kiss onto his cheek. “I’ll leave my door unlocked in case you change your mind,” she whispered, lips lingering beside his ear before she quickly turned, tying the gown closed as she walked briskly to the door.
If he was going to turn her down at least she could feel satisfied knowing he’d be stewing over that thought for the rest of the evening.