For the UST prompts: 8. The restless half remembered dreams for whoever strikes your fancy, please!
Hey, remember when I got this prompt like 87 years ago? GUESS WHO FINALLY FINISHED IT.
Featuring Roz and Rolfe just after everyone made it to Skyhold. Features some mild spicy dreams, pining and oh no I like him.
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“You don’t seem your cheerful self this morning,” Dorian commented dryly from across the table, jolting Roz from her thoughts. Her grip on the steaming cup of tea tightened, shooting a small glower at Dorian before lifting it to her lips. Scalding, just as she liked it, but too bitter and she couldn’t disguise the face she made as she swallowed. The burning she could handle, but she didn’t have it in her to go searching for milk to ease the taste.
“It’s too early for cheer,” Roz mumbled, brushing a stray strand of red away from her face. “I’m never cheerful this early.” She had never been a morning person, preferring to linger in bed as long as she could muster without losing out on breakfast when she’d lived in Ostwick; now, however, she found herself rising earlier as everyone pitched in to try and get the shambles of this fortress back together.
“Suit yourself,” Dorian replied with a shrug, going back to his book and his own plate, leaving Roz to sulk over her tea. Maker, why couldn’t she be back in bed?
There was a small commotion across the hall, her blue gaze lifting from the murky depths of black to see what the fuss was.
Ah.
It was hard these days, Roz mused, for Rolfe not to cause a scene wherever he ended up. Despite his injuries (some of which, she knew, were still healing), it seemed like their new Inquisitor had leaned in hard towards charm and zeal, eager as ever to get things settled here without all of them worrying about the what-ifs when it came to their collective safety. There was a pit in all of their stomachs, Roz especially, at the thought of enduring what had happened at Haven yet again.
Watching the mountain fall on Rolfe had sliced deep at the heart of everyone who had been in Haven.
It had cut Roz deeper than she could have ever anticipated, more than she intended on sharing with anyone. There had clearly been moments before with Rolfe. Despite flirting with anyone who he spoke with, there was something more when they were alone. Roz knew she hadn’t imagined it, though why he thought to flirt with her was puzzling.
There were plenty of other women around, those who were far more beautiful than she, and probably far more appropriate. Her own heart still felt too battered and bruised, the cracks only just healing from losing Alderis.
How long will you mourn for those lost? And will you miss out on what’s ahead of you? Roz frowned into her tea, taking a small sip, ignoring the burning at the tip of her tongue. More than likely, Alderis was dead and gone; at least he could have some peace and she had to hope he’d find himself reconnected to the Fade.
But mourning him wouldn’t make her life any easier. Enough time had passed that his loss, while still painful, had lost its initial sharpness. The memories were treasured rather than pushed away from grief and, while she was still worried about what she should have done, there was nothing more she could do.
His gaze slid to hers, offering a smile across the room. It was a dance Roz kept gracefully recalling the steps, remaining polite and uncertain of just how close she truly should get. Roz knew it would be easier if she simply stepped away from it, firmly planting herself and continuing her work rather than focusing on the fickle emotions that came fluttering in her chest when he gave her attention.
But, as their eyes met, Roz’s breath hitched. Alarming clarity washed over her, eyes wide as she recalled just why she had slept so poorly the night before.
I thought I’d find you here. His voice had been a rumble in her ear, breath hot against her skin. Lips ghosted the place where her neck and shoulder met, teasing with a barely-there kiss that heated Roz’s skin at the memory.
In the great hall, her lips parted, squeezing her eyes shut as images, half-formed and fuzzy, rose from the depths of her mind. Of hands that wandered, laughter against her skin, kisses placed in far more intimate places-
“Good morning, Roz.”
Her eyes snapped open, bewildered as Rolfe approached their table. Her face felt flushed, pink rising high in her cheeks and creeping down her neck at being caught remembering something so illicit and racy at the breakfast table. Her traitorous heart hammered hard against her ribs, longing rising so hard and fast that it threatened to overwhelm her the moment she opened her mouth.
“Good morning,” Roz lifted her tea to her lips again, giving herself something to occupy her mouth.
Dorian had already pulled Rolfe into a conversation, thankfully keeping her from having to open her mouth again and accidentally say something ridiculous. She drained her cup, only half-listening, her mind still turning over her thoughts from before.
“Are you going to the gardens?” Rolfe stood when she did, pausing when she had to pause, surprise evident on her face.
“Yes, actually,” Roz replied, unable to stop frowning just slightly at the comment. The gardens had become her project since they arrived. While Roz couldn’t lift some of the heaviest of planks or plan their next moves, she could gently coax the garden back to life.
“I’ll walk with you,” Rolfe offered an easy smile, hands clasped behind his back. There was space between them as they fell into step, Roz taking a slight lead. For a brief moment, her face still a little flushed at the memory of her dreams, Roz thought about closing that space by just a bit. If she’d wanted to, she could have reached out and brushed her fingers against his side, to casually reach for what she wanted-
The thought flew from her mind swiftly, but not before she let herself slip a little closer than before, the gap lessening between them.
The crew of the enterprise having ‘transporter malfunctions’ while Jim and Spock are planet side bc the only alternative is locking them in a maintenance closet
