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Solas heard the War Room’s door close softly and rose from his desk, stretching. The Inquisitor must have just left, and since he did not come to the rotunda he must have immediately gone to his chambers. It was late, so Solas moved quietly as to not disturb the rest of the keep from their rest as he walked down to the kitchens to make a tray of food. Fresh palm sized loaves of bread, stew kept bubbling on the stove for those in the keep who needed something late, and dried fruits soaked in honey accounting for The Inquisitor’s sweet tooth. He carried the food up and tapped on The Inquisitor’s door.
It swung open to reveal a very tired looking Lavellan,
“Ah, Solas,” he floundered slightly, “um… hello, sorry I didn’t stop by, I am… very weary after that meeting,”
“I thought you were, so I brought up some food,” Lavellan’s eyes fell to the tray and widened,
“Oh, um please come in,” Solas stepped in as Lavellan stepped aside to let him in. The door closed and Lavellan led the way up the stairs and into the room proper. Solas set the tray on a clear patch of desk and gestured for Lavellan to come and eat. Lavellan settled into the chair behind the desk and Solas settled into the second one that had been brought up for him,
“Eat, you missed dinner,” Solas insisted, Lavellan took a loaf and split it open, watching the steam rise from the still warm center and began to eat. Solas waited until Lavellan had eaten a good portion before taking a loaf for himself and sharing the meal with his love. They ate in companionable silence, enjoying the peace of the moment.
It was when they were just finishing the honeyed fruit when Lavellan spoke,
“Will you tell me a story?” Solas smiled and finished his portion of fruit before he answered,
“I would be happy to Vhanan, but we should get ready for bed first,” Lavellan smiled faintly and nodded,
“Alright,” they took their time getting ready, Solas unbraiding and combing through Lavellan’s hair before they lay down, nestled together in the darkness of the room, “What kind of story will you tell tonight?” he asked,
“A children’s tale, a fable from long ago,” Lavellan settled in to listen with a smile as Solas began to speak,
“A cat had heard the forest birds were ailing
He dressed up as healer with a crooked cedar staff
He came upon the tree and knocked its hallow door
‘Who is knocking at our door, be friend or foe?’
So said the birds from in the tree with caution
‘A healer to see to your hurts and your ails’
So purred the cat from without the tree with hunger
‘Come out and let me take a look at you’
The birds they muttered and chirped and called and sang
‘We see your cedar staff; we see your healer’s cloak’
‘We see your golden eyes; we see your pointy teeth’
‘We shall do so very well, when you doth leave’
And so, the cat with head hung low did leave
For he had been bested by the little ailing birds
A villain may disguise himself, but not deceive the wise”
“I like that one…” Lavellan said sleepily, yawning as exhaustion and Solas’s lilting voice lulled him into sleep,
“I am glad Vhanan,” Solas kissed his forehead gently as Lavellan drifted off into his dreams. Solas basked for a while in the feel of his heart in his arms before following Lavellan into slumber.