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"I do hope our dear Commander ah, 'attentiveness' was not lost on you."
Dorian's low tone barely reached Solas' ears, the faintest edge on his hearing. He makes no sign he heard, turning another page in the treatise on relics without reading it. Dorian's eyes weighed heavily, but not as heavily as the sudden halt of Val'wen- the Inquisitor's quill. She bit her lip a moment, letting the implement rest in the ink pot.
"No, it was not." She hesitantly confirmed, trying to think of how to fluidly change the subject. “I don’t really want to discuss this here.”
"Come on now, you know my sordid debaucheries-"
She snorted.
"Alright not all of them... He was wriggling in his seat like a puppy at the prospect of a game with you, you must have some reaction!"
"Dorian..." she began, her voice tense and quiet, Solas found himself slightly inclining his head to ensure he overheard. He wondered if he should be ashamed listening, hesitant to miss the easy redirection of her attention, but just as hesitant to drive her towards a Templar of all things. She was a precious thing, and the idea of the innate instability such a union would bring rankled him. He admitted a small twinge of jealousy, a small one. It made appearing nonchalant and absorbed all the more difficult.
“You can tell me, your fashion-illiterate apostate won’t hear if we’re careful. What do you think of the good commander?”
A heavy sigh, the rustle of what surely was a glance down at him, and a shuffle of her blotter marked her hesitance further.
“You know I feel a way for Solas,” she murmured, fidgeting with her papers.
“Yes, yes, but the heart is a fickle thing, or sometimes a diverted and most steadfast thing, in any case love is not simple, and he is deplorably enamored of you. Do you plan on encouraging him?”
“That would be cruel,”
“Well, not if all parties are in the know.”
“I... Suppose. I doubt Solas would entertain such a notion. They’re very different.”
“Ooh, but our scandalous inquisitor has some sense to entertain the idea at least! Or if you and Solas don’t work out, that could happen too.”
“What an unpleasant thought, why would you say that?” Solas grimaced and hoped they did not see.
“Surely he’s not your first paramour?”
“Well, no, but,” her voice dropped further, and try as he might, Solas could not discern her words.
“Oh, Val...” Dorians voice dropped with hers so much he crinkled the page he had been staring at for far too long. Solas took a breath and turned it, lips set.
“That’s, well, that’s-” The frustration of the missing sentences clawed at Solas' stomach.
“Dorian.”
“All right, but you still haven’t told me how you feel about Commander Cullen.” He hears a swat and a groan, the tevinter finally chipping away at Inquisitor Lavellan’s patience.
“It’s... Yes, I suppose it’s complicated. I, that is, Cullen means to be a good man-”
“Means to be?”
“Well, we’ve had our differences.” She hedges, picking at her quill. “But, he’s earnest, very very earnest. I do fondly think of how forthright he is. And I... I may have teased him a bit at Haven, but... Not since. He turned so red when I asked him about his vows.” He heard the shy smile in her voice, he’d seen that shy smile more often lately. “And he does want the best for... well all of Thedas, really. He wants to make the world a better place, for everyone involved. He actually puts forth his best effort to do just that.”
“But?”
“But...” Another sigh, “Well, in the end it doesn’t matter. I didn’t encourage him at our chess game, and I won’t in any other occasion either. Maybe in another life.”
“So no midnight trysts to the Commander’s tower? What a shame, you have seen him changing into his practice gear, haven’t you?”
“Not all of us are peepers, you terrible creature.”
“Peepers? Oh you adorable thing.”
“You know what I meant, don't you laugh at me! And... no, as much as... as...” she sighed “I do find him endearing, and... as much as I tend not to care about physicalities-”
“Obviously- Ow!”
“As I was saying, he is attractive in an aesthetic sort of way, but I can’t see myself willingly leaving Solas for him, it’s not like that. I couldn’t... do that to someone, you know?” In the rotunda below, Solas suddenly felt sick. He knew he would leave, eventually. He had reconciled his familiarity with her as a fleeting joy to grasp, but with this overheard, he marked his place and closed the book with an uncertain clench in his chest.
“Well, tell me how in the name of Andraste’s Anointed Arse that hedge mage managed to snare you so well, this has got to be good.” Dorian’s grin was entirely audible, along with the disgusted noise Val'wen leveled to rival Cassandra’s.
“Oh, you insufferable fop!”
“You love me for it.”
“Wretch, fine, if you’ll stop needling me.” Her voice dropped carefully, but not carefully enough. “He... He’s incredibly sharp, perceptive, I mean. He’s got this wry sense of humor,” Solas rose and placed the book away, recovering a different one and his smile. Out of the corner of his eye, he did see Dorian glance furtively at him, but Val'wen faced the window, her cheek in her hand. She continued once he’d settled down and the noise of vellum scraping falsely assured them he did not hear.
“I always feel so comfortable around him, especially with all this madness circling us. I love hearing him talk of his wanderings in the fade, there’s so much to be learned there, not just of the loss of our- er, my people, I should say, but Thedas itself, even some of you Tevinter pests figure in there somewhere I’m sure.” Dorian hissed, much to her amusement.
“Well, go on, but not about my pestilence, please, I’m too lovely to bear such slander personally.”
“Oh, I’m joking, surely you know that.”
“I forgive you, but only if you go on, you sap. You’re as bad as Cassandra, you know that?”
“Why should I continue again?”
“Indulge me.”
“I...” She sighed, “He’s so slyly charming. You’d never guess what a sweet talker he can be. Solas is....”
“Oh, you’re blushing, this is repulsive, please continue.”
“He’s so ardent, he holds me so tightly.” She took a breath her voice still thick with quieted wonder. Solas feels his own air stutter in his lungs. “I’ve never been kissed like that. I mean, admittedly, I’ve had a few fade dreams I’d not discuss in polite company but... When he kissed me... Oh, why am I telling you this?”
“Because it’s adorable and it makes you happy and flustered as a maiden, go on.” She attempted to stifle a strangled noise, covering her face.
“He is... he’s so much more than what people assume when they see him. I was too dazed by all... this business,” Solas didn’t have to look to know she was gesturing with the mark. “Exploding temples, demons everywhere and suddenly shemlen looking to me like... like the second coming of your maker’s bride, to make any sort of assumption about him, it was all too much to take in. Even if I hadn’t been all wrapped up in this, I can’t say how I would have reacted to him, he’s so curious.”
“I can’t imagine...”
“But... He kept me alive, when this was spreading. With the growth of the breach, I was in so much pain when I woke, I don’t want to think on what it had been before he helped. But more than that, he has such a different perspective than anyone I’ve met before.”
“Nevermind the commander’s puppy love,” Dorian trailed off too quiet for Solas to hear, ‘teakettle’ the only word he caught.
“Shh, he’ll hear you!”
“Don’t you want him to know?”
“Well... It’s just...”
“You’re frightened.”
“Not frightened, just...” She struggled to find the words,”He had... reservations about entertaining a relationship...”
“More the fool he.”
“It’s not your place to say,” Val'wen stated firmly, “His mind is his own and... I don’t want to drive him away, to make him uncomfortable.”
“Hmm. Well, if he doesn’t see how wonderful you are, and what he’d be missing, he doesn’t deserve you.”
“Stop flattering me, you lout, you’ll make Mother Giselle nervous again.”
“Oh, I think I accomplish that with my mere existence well enough.” In the distance, the chantry bell tolled the end of afternoon services, breaking all three of them from their thoughts. “Speak of the demon-”
“Fenhedis! Josie’s going to be so upset, I should have been by to see her already.”
“You needed the distraction, be honest, you’d been scribbling horribly on that poor parchment long before I started talking to you.” There was a pause and Dorian laughed, likely at the inquisitor’s expression.
“Fine, I’m throwing you under her wheels when she comes for my blood, then.” Solas heard the shuffle of her paperwork, the rustle of a rag drying her quill, and then the subsequent snap of said rag at Dorian, who only laughed. Val'wen bustled down the stairs with her arms full of missives and writing practice. She looked up once through the arch, without surprise, but with some degree of embarrassment. Solas smiled, though he did not feel it. He had to assure her he hadn’t heard a thing. When she stepped closer he held her gaze. How should he have proceeded? Coldly, to drive her towards the commander? Or as he wished to react, in staid intention, for just as long as they could?
“Did you need something?”
“Well,” She began, then gave the level above a startled expression, then a glare. By the time Solas turned to look, Dorian ‘innocently’ read a book as he leaned against the railing. “First I need you to ignore that incorrigible busybody,” She mouthed ‘GO AWAY’ at Dorian and grumped, her ears a bright red. “But I...” Val'wen struggled, as ever, to express herself. “I may need to apologize.” Solas arched his eyebrows, waiting for her to continue, sliding his book’s ribbon into place.
“I... may have kissed and told a little bit. That- did I get that expression right?” she tucked an errant bit of black hair back towards her braids. He nodded but she did not lose her frown.
“Are you ashamed?” Solas hid his surprise, that she would confess so soon, or even at all.
“What? No! I just... I want to consider your privacy.” She set her bundle down, stepping closer to him, faltering, and then leaning back against the desk by which he still sat. “I know... I know you said there are things to consider, and as much as I confess to being... um... a little eager, I don’t-” Solas set his hand on hers, trying to consider what he ought to do. This was cruel. It was cruel to both of them, though she might not know it yet. Even that small contact, however, silenced her rambling completely. She glanced down at his hand and tried to contain her beaming smile. She did, however, glance to make sure Dorian had at least made it look like he wasn’t watching. His heart lurched, especially when she pulled his hand to her lap to run her thumb along the crease of his palm.
“I do appreciate your honesty, but I don’t expect you not to talk with your friends.”
“So you’re not... disappointed?”
“No. We do not exist in a void, if you wish to discuss us, within reason, I do not mind.” Her shy smile returned, settling her weight on the desk fully to cup his hand with both of hers. It was such a small touch, but the tenderness she traced his hand with gave him pause. The bustle of chanters redistributing themselves to the spaces of skyhold made Lavellan cringe.
“I’m late to meet with Lady Montilyet, but... I didn’t want to go without telling you.”
“Then you’d best go, now that you've told me.” She sighed and reluctantly released his hand. At the last moment she drew away he grasped her hand, unable to stop himself, and brought it to his lips to kiss her palm. The smallest gasp slipped from her, and even once Solas let her hand go, she did not retract it just yet. His smirk finally prompted her to grin sheepishly and pick up her things.
“Sneaky.”
“Perhaps. Until we speak again.” He watched her go, and did not turn away even at the last glimpse of her smile had been overtaken by the door. He glanced up to find Dorian neither mocking not disgusted, but pensive.
Solas cleared his throat and returned to his work, only to find she had left one of her practice sheets behind. The scrawl was nigh unintelligible, but there was a small drawing of one of Leliana’s ravens, or at least he assumed the sharp haystack of black lines was a raven. He tucked it in the back of the book and managed to read a paragraph before he stilled and finally began to consider just how much trouble he was in.