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Isii pushed herself up from her bedroll as quietly as possible. She shifted her weight slowly onto her knees, careful not to bump the sleeping figure beside her as she groped blindly through the darkness that filled their tent. She’d only crawled halfway to the flap before she heard Solas stir, taking in a deep, murmuring breath.
“Is something wrong?” His voice sounded heavy. He wasn’t quite awake yet.
“I couldn’t sleep,” she whispered. “Get some rest, falon.”
The short grunt he let out sounded somewhat disapproving, though it was hard to tell with any certainty. Isii heard the rustle of fabric and watched the faint outline of his form as he rolled over onto his side. “Lie down,” he muttered. “I will assist you.”
Isii let out a sigh. She was tired, but the idea of spending another sleepless moment lying on her bedroll made her grimace. Still, she obeyed, crawling back into place beside him. She was surprised when she felt the weight of his arm against her waist, letting out a small yelp as he tugged her to him. She laughed softly when she felt his body press against her back, cradling her form with his own. He tucked his face against the nape of her neck, burying his nose in her hair. His arm snaked under her own so his palm could rest against her collarbone, his fingers dragging loosely at the base of her throat.
He stilled then, unmoving. For a moment she wondered if he’d simply gone back to sleep.
That was assuming he was truly awake in the first place. She’d never known her friend to talk in his sleep, though there had been a few in her clan who did. It wouldn’t be the first time someone unconsciously cuddled up to her. Most times she’d simply ignore the fact that they were mumbling a name that didn’t belong to her and simply go back to sleep.
His breaths were slow and heavy on her neck. His limbs felt boneless. She imagined he would be a bit more self-conscious if he were fully awake. They were friends, close friends at that, but he wasn’t exactly prone to bouts of physical affection.
Isii giggled, straining to try and peer over her shoulder. “I’ll be honest, Solas. You didn’t exactly strike me as the spooning sort.”
He shushed her sleepily. She could feel the sound slip against her skin.
“I’m afraid you’re going to suffocate yourself with my hair.”
“I have survived worse.” He hummed at his own joke, a low and groggy sound before sighing. “Breathe,” he instructed, his voice sounding throaty. His palm pressed a gentle pressure against her chest. “Slow and deep.”
He fell silent again. Skeptical, she laid her head down, eyes closing as she focused on her breathing. His body felt warm against her own, his embrace offering a pleasant weight that left her feeling comforted. While she was certain that a simple breathing exercise wasn’t going to help her, she supposed being curled up in his arms wasn’t the worst place to be. Her pace eventually slowed to match his own, inhaling each time she felt his chest expand against her back, exhaling as she felt his breath brush against her neck. Each wave rocked them ever so slightly. For some reason it reminded her of standing in shallow ocean waters, lazily letting her body be tugged by the gentle undulation.
“Good,” he murmured. His face shifted against her neck, brushing her hair aside with his cheek before settling again. She was certain it was simply done to free his nose from her curls, but in the darkness it felt like he was nuzzling her.
Isii let out a lazy laugh. He said nothing, his palm flattening against the front of her tunic and soon she felt a soft warmth pressing into her. His magic pulsed, slow and steady like a heartbeat - faint at first before gradually expanding. She felt her limbs grow heavier with each exhale. Her head began to feel foggy, like her mind was slowly filling with gentle ribbons of smoke. A small cooing sound bubbled from her throat unexpectedly, but she found herself too relaxed to care.
He mumbled quietly then. Something in Elvish. She couldn’t quite make out all the words - a combination of his vocabulary being embarrassingly more extensive than her own and the fact that he was currently speaking with his mouth half-pressed to the back of her neck. Her hazy brain could only translate a few words here and there. Relax. Beyond. Once you would have. Thinner then. Slip through. Like breathing. Simple. As it should be. You’ll see.
His lips and tongue slid languidly over each syllable. She was fairly certain he was asleep - or as close to sleep as one could be while actively casting. She wondered groggily how he could manage it before she sank deeper. Her senses slowly faded. She stopped trying to translate and simply listened, letting the sound of his voice lull her.
Sleep came on like a sigh and soon the Fade took her.
***
It had been a pleasant dream.
Solas had been warm, tucked away in a bed that he remembered with perfect clarity even though it had been centuries since he laid upon it. It had been a good bed. Comfortable. The perfect balance between firm and soft. After nights of lying on thin bedrolls, he found himself feeling strangely nostalgic for the quarters he’d kept in the days of Arlathan.
There’d been someone lying beside him in the dream. The details were vague. He could remember little about her, other than she’d been warm and soft. She had skin that smelled faintly of honey with traces of jasmine. He couldn’t quite consciously piece together whatever this hazy memory was, wanting little more than to tighten his grip and curl deeper into the embrace, mindlessly seeking heat and the soothing rhythm of breaths that weren’t his own.
He was only slightly aware of his physical form as he felt the stiffness in his shoulder, his arm pinned down under her weight. He shifted uncomfortably. Strange. Normally dreams would overlook such a detail in favor of more pleasant aspects. The discomfort started to draw him back into waking- yet to his surprise, her form did not dissipate.
Isii cooed, sighing sleepily as Solas opened his eyes. For a brief moment he couldn’t recall how he’d managed to fall asleep curled around her body. One of his knees was tucked between her own, her head resting against one arm while she tightly hugged the other to her chest. He paused for a time, listening to her breaths.
They deepened gradually as she stirred. “Is your arm dead yet?” she rasped sleepily.
The corner of his lips lifted. “Only somewhat,” he murmured, his eyes closing again. “I’m certain it can be resuscitated later.”
Her throaty laughter sounded more like a rippling purr as she slowly stretched, letting go of his arm as she leaned forward. He withdrew, lowering himself onto his back as she rolled over, draping herself against his side. He made a small sound, a mixture of confusion and a halfhearted objection.
“You initiated cuddling, falon,” she said, stifling a yawn as she nuzzled her head down into place against his chest. “You’re going to have to suffer the consequences.”
He chuckled, letting his hand rest hesitantly against the small of her back. “If you insist, Inquisitor.”