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“Well, I suppose that concludes our studies for the day,” Solas says uncertainly, as he looks around the Rotunda. They had covered nearly every inch of a designated practice area in paper. Yet somehow she had still managed to bury parts of the floor.
Elgara looks up, and flashes him a coy smile. If the floor was collateral damage, then one could almost call her a canvas. Paint clings to her clothes, almost obscuring the original light brown and deep blue of her outfit, and big, flowing spots of paint smudge her face.
“I know art is supposed to be subjective,” she says, “but let’s be honest”, she rubs her hands, smearing it all even further as she gets to her feat, “I suck.”
His lips purse as he resists the urge to grin at the sight.
“You simply need practice,” he says gently and after another look around adds “And perhaps you should also consider… dampening your enthusiasm. Only a little.”
She laughs. “I’ll try my best,” she says and ads with a sly grin “But I make no promises.”
He laughs and she beams at him.
“But I would very much enjoy more practice,” she disclaims and then looks around the room.
“I’m just not sure that the Rotunda can take it.” Her eyes meet his. “Or you, for that matter.”
He arches a playful brow.
“Oh? I have voiced no objections, have I?”
Her smile deepens.
“No. You have been very patient and gracious.” A soft heat brushes against him. She chuckles. “But I can’t say the same of myself.”
His voice turns tender. “You give yourself too little credit. Today, I have had the pleasure of studying some deeply interesting reports, and a curious new tome, and yet teaching you has by far been my most enjoyable task.”
Something about her keeps bringing his guard down. Makes him want to confide in her. But her eyes light up and this one time, he can’t bring himself to regret it.
She smirks and raises a brow. “Oh really? Well then, I guess we’ll just have to continue, hahren.”
He stills as a variety of feelings run through him. The title is heavy with memories. He clears his throat and then gives her a kind smile.
“I suppose we do.”
The grin on her face is perfection. For a short moment he just looks at her. There is a silence, but somehow, it’s comfortable. Then she starts to fidget a bit, and after he raises an inquiring brow, starts to talk again.
“I have a question.”
“Yes?”
“I am interested in what you told me of yourself and your studies,” she says and seems so genuine in her interest. He can’t help but feel a flicker in his chest. In this world, there were precious few ‘people’ that even cared about the skills he brought to the Inquisition. She runs a hand through her hair and leaves a trail of paint. “If you have some time, I’d like to hear more.”
His heart clenches.
“You continue to surprise me,” he says. And it was more true than she could ever imagine. She had shown wisdom and a subtlety that went against everything he had expected. She had grown with her tasks, had come a long way from the one once so frightened of the Dread Wolf. Perhaps the anchor had changed more than he had anticipated? It must have. He did not dare consider the alternative.
“All right, let us talk …” he says and quickly adds “but perhaps a bit later.” His gaze trails the spots of drying color and it takes everything out of him to keep his expression blank. He suspects he doesn’t fully succeed even so. “You might want to attempt salvaging whatever you can of your clothes, while the paint is still relatively wet.”
He watches with some small satisfaction as her eyes widen in embarrassment. She nods and bites her lip. The sight was… cute, for lack of a better word. It clouds his mind, drains some of his restraint.
“And preferably somewhere more interesting than this.”
That rips her out of her flustered stupor. A shame.
“Oh?” she says and tilts her head. “What, is a fortress not exiting enough for a hedge-mage?” she teases.
A sly grin spreads on his face.
“Not if one can wander the Fade.”
She stills and then realization seeps over her features. He watches with no small amount of pleasure as a coquettish smirk spreads on her lips that reaches her eyes.
“Are you saying you want to visit my dreams?” she asks, intrigued. “How do you know you’re not already in them?”
He gives her a crooked smile. “There is only one way to know for certain.”
“Ha, true.” She laughs and then starts moving, slowly, stepping ever closer as she continues “Well then, I guess that means I will see you tonight.”
This sends a shiver of anticipation, of want through him. She peers at him through thick lashes. And then his common sense snaps back. This might be a bad idea. No, this was definitely a bad idea. He had to make it absolutely clear, beyond any doubt, that if he were to visit her in the Fade would not entail any … inappropriate behavior.
“Perhaps,” he says simply. You impotent fool!
She laughs, full and bright.
“Solas, ever the enthusiast.”
Oh he was enthusiastic, way too enthusiastic. He could not allow himself to let his guard down, not with her, and being in the Fade would make that decisively more difficult. And yet… He sighs internally. And yet the prospect of sharing such an experience with her… it made his heart dance with an insurmountable amount of joy. A wonder that was indescribable.
There would be no harm in simply walking with her, in simply talking about rather trivial matters, right? In sharing some, just some, simple, nondescript, parts of himself with her. He would be careful. He would keep his guard up. He would keep his distance.