Happy Halladays!
Here’s a little festive fluff for the wonderful @ithesalesman.
In this modern AU, the Inquisition celebrates Satinalia at Josie’s, Ellana Lavellan gives Solas a gift, and he finds a way to thank her.
With his mouth.
***
The room erupted into raucous cheers and laughter as soon as Bull and the Chargers finished their song. Ellana’s friends were packed inside Josie’s apartment, transformed into the picture of a winter wonderland. They spent the evening sipping ale, mulled wine, and hot apple cider and enjoying a variety of hors d’oeuvres and main courses served by the finest Orlesian catering company. There was even an entire table dedicated to sweets and petit fours for them to pick as they pleased. Josie and Leliana had outdone themselves.
Ellana was on her way to the kitchen, when Varric’s voice cut through the chaos.
“All right, everyone! Get your best card face on. It’s time for a game of Wicked Grace!”
“Varric, we’re not betting clothes again, are we?”
“It’s house rules, Curly. I will be deferring to our honorable Ambassador.”
Sera snorted into her ale. “Hope you got breeches under your breeches, ‘cuz my money’s on Josie.” Cullen swallowed and ran a hand through his hair, following the group into the other room.
Ellana chuckled to herself and popped a truffle into her mouth. In the kitchen, Cassandra and Dagna were chatting away about the latest Swords and Shields, while Vivienne and Dorian debated the quality of the Montsimmard vintage versus the Jader red.
As she poured herself a glass of water, Ellana heard Josie’s voice down the hall.
“Not one for Wicked Grace, Solas?”
“I am afraid my gambling days are over, but thank you for including me in your festivities.”
“It was lovely to see you outside work for once, and you are always welcome. Will you have trouble walking home in the snow? I can call you a cab.”
“You need not trouble yourself. I find the weather to be most tolerable, and I do not live far. I wish you a pleasant night.”
“Thank you for coming, Solas. ” Josie’s voice rang with sincerity. “…need anything, we’re just a phone call away. Joyous Satinalia!” The door opened and closed, and Ellana hesitated a few seconds before she remembered Solas’ gift in her pocket.
“Aw, leaving so soon, Boots?” Varric called from the playing room as she gathered her coat and scarf.
“It’s almost midnight, Varric, and I’d rather get home before it gets worse outside.” She motioned to the window.
“Ellana, tsk tsk. Your mask has slightly slipped since Celene’s masquerade last season,” Leliana chastised, appearing out of nowhere. Ellana suppressed a blush and tried again.
“I have to water my elfroot?”
Thom threw his head back and laughed, raising his pint in the air. “That’s a new one!”
“Everyone knows why you’re leaving. You don’t have to lie to your friends.”
Ellana balked. “Right… Thank you for that, Cole. Helpful as ever.”
“You gonna go give Droopy Ears something to smile about, yeah?” Sera popped her head out from under the table.
“Okay! This is me leaving. You’re all gems. Thank you for a lovely evening, Josie!” She kissed the Ambassador on each cheek, waved goodbye to her friends, and almost tripped over her feet as she ran out the door.
The street was still and silent, a stark contrast from the drunken revelry taking place inside. Not a soul could be seen in either direction, except for a figure a block away. Ellana caught a glimpse of a bald head and pointed ears as the figure passed under a streetlamp, and she allowed herself a few deep breaths before taking action.
“Solas!” She cried after him, picking up the pace down the snow-covered sidewalk. He turned and waited for a moment before approaching her.
“Ellana, is everything alright?”
“Oh, yes! Sorry to alarm you.” They met under the bookstore awning, and she pulled out a small parcel tied with a simple green ribbon. “You left without saying goodbye, and I wanted to give you this.”
“Ah, forgive me,” he said, accepting the package. “I did not mean to leave without a proper farewell. I suppose my mind was elsewhere.” He merely held it in his hand and said, “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet; open it!”
Heeding her urging, he tugged the ribbon and made sure not to rip the paper. When the wrappings fell away, he stared down at the token his hands.
“It’s not much, but I know they’re your favorite…” she trailed off, a lopsided grin on her face.
It was a small wooden carving of a sleeping wolf, its features detailed with what must have been an impossibly fine brush. Something caught in his throat, an unfortunate lump he could not overcome. There was a tightness in his chest, as if his ribs were expanding and breaking under pressure, an iron cage making room for his swelling heart.
“I have not received a gift since… It has been more than a few years.” His fingers trailed over the tiny wolf, no bigger than a golden coin.
Lavellan was taken aback. Solas did not have many friends; he’d said so himself in the past. But she never anticipated such a reaction. There was a gleam in his eyes that she could not quite explain.
“Not even for birthdays?”
“It has been longer still since I last celebrated a birthday, I assure you,” he laughed, though she did not understand what was so funny. “It is perfect, and I shall cherish it always.” Ellana broke into a smile. “I only wish I had possessed the foresight to recipro–”
“Oh, no no! Please, Solas. Don’t worry about that. This is nothing.” She waved a hand nonchalantly.
“This is not nothing. This is… everything.” His voice was firm and earnest, and suddenly she felt hot despite the falling snow.
Chantry bells rang, then, about half a dozen announcing the midnight hour. Rather than continue staring into his eyes like a dumbstruck fool, Ellana took a step back and began dancing in the empty street.
“I love this song!” She spread her arms and whirled around. “I know it’s Andrastian, but I’m a sucker for a nice melody and sweet words about the meaning of home.” Solas stepped onto the street, taking slow strides toward her.
“It is not Andrastian,” he said with that look he often got when he knew he was right. Ellana stopped dancing.
“It isn’t?”
“No.” And with that, he took her hand in one of his while the other found her waist. He closed the gap between them until they were almost chest-to-chest. He smelled of cedarwood and cloves, along with a third, more delicate scent she could not place. Before she knew it, they were moving in small circles, slower than a common waltz, with his mouth by her ear.
He was singing, his voice soulful and soothing, in time with the music resonating through the air around them. She could not understand most of the words and suspected his lyrics were in ancient elvhen, the tone more reflective and yearning than that of the version she had learned.
The bells soon stopped ringing, but Ellana barely noticed, for Solas carried on sotto voce. Were they still dancing, or was her head spinning? She felt feverish. She had chills. She was sure this was a dream.
They stood motionless for a moment, entangled in each other’s arms, and then he bowed and touched his lips to her fingers. “Thank you. For everything.” He released her hand, and then buried his in his pockets.
“I should be thanking you,” she uttered, as soon as she could find the words. “That was beautiful.”
“I am pleased you enjoyed it.”
“Can you translate the song for me? Will you teach it to me?”
“It would be my pleasure, but perhaps at a more convenient time.”
“I have time now.“
He smiled, and tiny wrinkles formed at the corners of his eyes. "I would not dream of keeping you at this hour.”
“By all means, keep me!” She laughed at her boldness. “I have no one waiting for me at home.”
"A tempting offer, but it is late.”
“All right, all right. Do you at least live nearby?”
“Yes, I know a shortcut to my home near Skyhold Park.”
“Solas, that’s three miles away! Don’t tell me you were planning on going that far in this weather.“ She crossed her arms.
“I do not mind the–”
“No. Come on; I insist. I’m just a few blocks past the Haven market.” He looked at her, snowflakes dusting his eyebrows and a ghost of a smile lingering on his face. Without another word, he wrapped an arm around her, and let her settle against his side.
”Ma ghilana vir vhenas,“ he finally said, and though the snow crunched beneath her feet, she was certain she was flying.
[A/N: I’m not going to pretend I’m some sort of elven expert, but the phrase is supposed to mean, “Guide me down the path home,” or something similar. Thanks for reading!]
