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Isii strolled into the rotunda, surprised to find the room empty. She frowned, her hands slipping onto her hips as she looked up to the levels above. “Hey, Dorian!” After a moment the man appeared, leaning over the banister. “Do you know where Solas went?”
“Are we really going to shout it out like this?” he asked, his eyes narrowing. “There’s a perfectly good set of stairs right there.” Isii lifted her brow expectantly and he sighed, shaking his head. “No. I don’t know where he is, nor do I know why you’d assume I would care enough to take note of his absence.”
Isii was parting her lips to reply when she heard a shrill peel of laughter echoing through the main hall, pounding footsteps drawing closer before Sera burst into the room, Solas tearing in after her. She had Solas’s breeches hiked up over her own, gripping the waist with her fist. The mage was left in nothing but his tunic and smallclothes. In terms of salaciousness, he was not overly exposed. His tunic provided him with some level of modesty and his smalls, though tight-fitting, covered him from his waist to his mid-thigh. Even so, the sight of him pantless and glaring had Isii desperately trying not to laugh, her hand moving up to cover her mouth. Solas blanched for a moment when he saw her before his anger surged even further, presumably fuelled by his displeasure at having her witness him in this state. He lunged at Sera but she darted away, keeping his desk between the two of them.
“Do I even want to know?” Isii asked, trying to stop the waver in her throat. Dorian was not so shy with his laughter as Solas shot a hard look up to the railing above.
“Thought you’d be happy, Isii,” Sera said, grinning like mad at Solas. “Everybody knows you’ve been trying to get his pants off of him for months.”
Isii barely stifled a giggle as Solas rushed forward again, trying to reach for the rogue as she howled at her own joke.
“Please refrain from moving too energetically, Solas,” Dorian called down from above. “Wouldn’t want your tunic to shift. For some of us it is far too early in the morning for that view.”
“Give them back, Sera.” Solas’s tone was low and stern, his nose creased tightly even as the tips of his ears were flushed pink, his cheeks as close to a blush as she’d ever seen. Even though Isii wasn’t pleased to see him angered, she could not help but find his embarrassment endearing. “As much as I can appreciate a well-executed trick, yours are little more than useless childish pranks.”
“Doesn’t seem to stop her from being effective, though, you must admit.”
“No one asked you, Dorian,” Solas snapped.
“How’d she manage to get them off of you, exactly?” Isii asked, her brow lifting.
“Waited ‘til he was takin’ a bath,” Sera answered cheerfully. “No one guardin’ the clothes you’re gonna change into when you’re in the bath, right?”
“And you didn’t think to go to your room and change into another pair before tearing across Skyhold in your smalls?” Isii asked, addressing Solas. He opened his mouth to respond but Sera gleefully interrupted.
“Pfffft. What? Like I wouldn’t clear out his room first? What would be the point?”
“That is a private space,” he snapped. “You have no right to enter, let alone rummage through my things.”
“How do you even squeeze yourself into these, Baldy?” Sera asked, tugging on his breeches while looking down the length of her legs. “You’re a right size bigger than me, too. No wonder they’re so tight.”
“Sera-”
“Though I guess they’re roomy where it counts, eh?” she added, disregarding his snarling as she wiggled her eyebrows. “Gotta make space for your staff, right?” She shoved her fist down the front of the breeches, pulling it forward on her hips, accentuating the vacant space between her legs. “Does this mean magey-pants is packing a big one?” Dorian tittered above them. Solas was practically growling as he lunged and she backed away with a snort. “Guess that’s why Quizzles likes you so much.”
“I wouldn’t know,” Isii added. Solas shot her a look while Sera hunched over, losing herself to a laughing fit.
“You’re not helping,” he hissed.
“You could probably see for yourself if he turns the right way,” Sera squawked. She was practically tearing up from laughter as Solas’s hands balled up into fists at his sides.
“Dahn’direlan,” he snapped at her. Isii coughed hard, choking on the sudden bark of a laugh that sprang from her unwillingly.
“Right bit of gibberish. Can’t insult me if you don’t use real words.”
“Avys esaya gera assan I’isa’av’ingala.” Sera pressed her tongue between her lips, spitting and sputtering over his retort. Solas grunted, scowling as he caught the corner of the desk, shoving it hard enough for it to scrape against the floor as he pushed past it. Sera dodged, squealing as she rushed towards the door. Isii caught her around the waist as she tried to pass, putting her hand up to stop Solas’s approach.
“Down, boy.” He fumed as Isii chuckled. “Sera, I think you’ve had your fun. Would you kindly give him back his breeches now?”
Her lips pursed, considering it a moment before wiggling out of Isii’s hold, awkwardly kicking off the pilfered pants. “Good luck findin’ the rest of ‘em,” she said, chucking the clothing at Solas’s face. He caught them before they made contact as she turned, heading for the exit. “Some of ‘em will be easy. I strung ‘em up for all to see. The rest you’ll be pickin’ out of dark corners for weeks.”
Solas slipped his breeches on, grumbling quietly to himself as Sera left. “Lasa adhal su nar masa.”
Isii laughed. “I highly doubt that’s what you actually want her to do, vhenan.” She closed the distance between them, her arms crossed. “I’ll talk to her later - get her to fess up where she hid the others.”
“I think you’re passing up on a wonderful opportunity,” Dorian quipped. “You could finally force him into some decent clothing.”
“If your standards of decent apparel are represented by how you choose to adorn yourself, I will enthusiastically decline the offer.”
Dorian pursed his lips, halfway to a smirk, his brow arching. “Hmmm. Not quite a burn. A fair bit too chilly. I’d work on your material.”
“Da’etunash.”
“Well somebody’s grouchy.”
Solas angled his head back, looking up at the Tevinter. “Apologies for my terminology. Would you prefer kaffas?”
Dorian laughed brightly, shaking his head. “You kiss her with that mouth? Shameful.” Isii glanced up, shooing him away with a wave of her hand. He shrugged, returning to his seat.
She reached out, cupping Solas’s cheek with her palm. “You have my full permission to get her back for that.”
His features softened somewhat at her touch though his lips were still drawn into a tight line. “I will consider it. Then again, it would probably lead to an unnecessary escalation. It is a game I do not need to distract myself with.”
She smiled, leaning forward to kiss him and he accepted the gesture, warming to it slowly. She pulled away with a small laugh, her brow arched as she peered at him. “She was right, though. You do wear ridiculously tight pants. Not that I have any complaints.”
“Hush.”