In the heat of battle Solas finds Niamh in immediate, mortal danger. What's his reaction? After all, if she dies his plans will be difficult... but if *he* dies in this weakened state the People will not be saved. At least, that's how he'd think about it in a rational setting. How does he *actually* behave, and how well does it fit with what he expected?
And here’s the last one! I really missed writing Solas and Niamh, so I very much appreciated these prompts. This one in particular was fun and quick, and exactly what I needed today. :D
“I’ve got this,” she shouted proudly as she summoned a burst of magic that jettisoned her petite frame into the middle of a group of chanting Venatori. Solas groaned in unison with Cassandra as Varric chuckled from behind them.
Inquisitor was a lofty title for one so brash, so reactive, so utterly, infuriatingly impulsive. She was a mage, and yet she consistently threw herself into the midst of battle, barely armored, as if she were a skilled warrior. She did not seem to understand that fireballs were just as effective when cast from a distance as they were when one used them to punch a bear in the nose. Niamh was difficult predict in battle, and even more difficult to protect.
Solas cast a ward around her as Cassandra rushed into the fray. Varric stood back and readied his crossbow, waiting for an opportune moment to attack. Niamh was a whirlwind of flame and frost, but she did not see the venatori stalker behind her, daggers at the ready, prepared to end her life with a stealthy stab in the back.
She did not “have this.” She rarely ever did.
A pang of concern tugged at Solas’ chest, and without his usual degree of forethought, he rushed into the thick of the battle, placing himself between Niamh and the Venatori agent who aimed to kill her. There was a sharp pain as a dagger met his shoulder, and another as a second dagger nicked his cheek.
Such a foolish risk of his own life, of his plans for restoration of his people, yet he had to protect her did he not? She bore the Anchor, after all.
“Solas,” Niamh gasped, before sending a spike of ice into the stalkers chest. She disposed of the remaining foes in the same manner.
“Are you alright,” Solas asked with a grimace as he clutched the wound on his shoulder. He could feel a trickle of blood rolling down his cheek.
“I should be asking you that question,” she said as she pulled his hand from his arm and inspected the damage, “Why did you do that?”
That was a good question. Why had he thrown himself in front of a blade for her? There had to have been thousands of alternate maneuvers that would have been sufficient, and much safer. Still, he had risked life and limb for her. He reasoned with himself that it must be his desire to protect the mark, not her, that had caused his own recklessness. However, he could not deny the flutter in his chest as he looked at her.
“I did what any reasonable person would do when a comrade is in danger,” he explained as he watched her clean and bandage the wound on his arm. She bit the corner of her lip and furrowed her eyebrows as she worked, focused intently.
“ A reasonable person would have disarmed the Venatori with a ranged spell,” Niamh chided as she wiped the blood from his face with a cloth from her pack.
“A reasonable person would not needlessly put herself in danger.”
“I never said I was reasonable,” she said with a slight laugh and a wink.
There was another flutter in his chest, and he laughed with her. Indeed, he had to protect her, but he could no longer tell himself it was only the Anchor he cared for.
