Call me Hawen (Inquisitor Lavellan x Reader)
"You're not a people person, are you?" Inquisitor Lavallen's deep, baritone voice fills the air. You look up, eyes swimming with nervousness and surprise as you look up from your sketchpad.
He stands in the doorway of the semi-destroyed tower that stands on the battlements. The cold wind of the mountains come through the windows and broken parts of the walls; but it isn't so bad.
"Not really Inquisitor," you reply, voice soft yet warm as he steps into the room, looking around curiously, his expression remains impassive yet there's a certain look in his eyes.
One that tells you, he doesn't get a lot of time away from being the leader of the Inquisition, despite the defeat of Corypheus four years ago; not there's a new threat.
Solas.
He was a trusted friend and companion to everyone, but to the Inquisitor, he seemed to be someone who understood him; more than others do.
"Why don't you like talking with the others?" he asks, sea-green eyes finding yours, and you're almost breathless at how pretty they are this close.
A soft, gentle blush forms on your pale freckled cheeks as you close your sketchpad, teeth gnawing on your lower lip as you try to form a response.
"I-I don't know how to talk to people Inquisitor," you admit hesitantly, "social cues and myself do not mix well."
"You're speaking perfectly well with me," he says a playful lilt to his voice; it surprises you slightly but a small smile curls onto the corners of your lips.
"It depends on the person I think Inquisitor," you reply thoughtfully as he hums softly in somewhat agreement.
"How long have we known each other, Y/N?" he suddenly asks, you meet his eyes, blinking in slight confusion, lips parting as you go to answer.
"A few years now Inquisitor," you reply honestly, he smiles softly and comes to sit down next to you on the ground, head nestling onto your shoulder and it sends warmth through you.
"Then call me Hawen please."
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Side Note: It's been how many years and I still can't spell Corypheus's name. ;-;