Gratitude
This was originally written for another Inquisitor I had but I decided to redo it for an intimate moment with Thema and Solas.
It was a small piece of paradise they had stumbled upon between Haven and the Storm Coast: a little niche of emerald and diamond framed by walls of gray granite and ribbons of obsidian. The only entrance to it was a short passage with rough walls and a floor of bare earth. Stepping into the cove was like stepping into another world, one of serene beauty away from the horrors of the world. It made the Breach, the war between Templars and Mages, fade away.
Water flowed from a carved shute, sliding like little sighs over a series of ledges into a crystalline pool. The jagged earth edges of the pond were softened by thick reeds and grass, vibrant purple flowers dotted throughout, a carpet of jade and amethyst. Vivid moss and lichen crept along hidden stone and shadow, silent watchers of secret beauty. It was a small space, barely big enough for three yet cozy enough for two.
It was a serene, almost supernatural place, untouched by man.
They had camped away from it, the additional members of the Bull’s Chargers called for a larger ground to camp. The Iron Bull and his men, Cassandra and Sera, seemed to ignore the presence of the cove in favor of wood fire and talk. Slipping away from the boisterous voices and scent of smoke had been easy.
Thema had stretched out on the bank, fingers combing through her hair after taking it down. She watched the ripples distort stars on the cool water’s surface around her legs. Her companion sat just a few inches away, encompassed by the reeds and tall grass, cross-legged and holding a carved flute to his lips. Eyelashes fluttered against his arched cheekbones, a surprisingly dark brown at their base and fading to red at their tips.
A deep breath was taken and released like a pray, slender fingers moving over the polished platinum wood. Soft notes resonated with their surroundings, dancing with the waterfall and over the earth like something ethereal. After traveling and speaking with Solas for so long now she was not surprised that he could play something so sweetly as he was. A painter, a mage, philosopher, a virtuoso…
The woman was entranced by every new side she saw of her closest friend. Friend… was it just friendship she felt or was it something more? Ever since that day in Val Royeaux when she sobbed her panic out into his chest her body fluttered when near him. Touch was no stranger to her… but his touch was different. Whether in the safety of Haven, the battlefield or navigating unfamiliar wilds when he touched her skin felt hot, nerves primed. The Anchor seemed to coo at the sensation, nestling like a warm feline into the sinew and bone of her body, and sometimes reached for him like a lover.
It was comforting that the unfamiliar magic responded so to the elvhen man yet she did not give it much thought. Solas had explored the Fade, was a mage of great talent and stemmed the pain when it flared up in her arm. The Anchor was just as attached to him as she was becoming.
Thema watched him weave his aria, a sense of dreamy contentment washing over her. It was little times like these she treasured most. Where Sera was loud and nosy, Cassandra like a mother, here by Solas’ side she didn’t have to say anything or do anything that she didn’t want to. Silence suited her more than words tonight and for once she was comfortable in his presence. Albeit a very attractive man that could make her heart race if he so chose. Just the right kind of smirk or innuendo made her flush, usually walking into a wall soon after. She had a feeling he enjoyed doing that to her.
He was nothing like the men of her world.
As the reminiscing came to an end so did the music. Solas lowered the flute to his lap and a nostalgic, sweetly sorrowful, smile on his lips. Something tightened in her chest at the look. It was almost lonely, the look, even though he had those back at the camp. Even though he had her. How long had he ventured alone? Had no one at all ever stood by his side?
Without thought, she reached out for his hand. Fingers slipped into his palm, thumb rubbing over his digits. “Solas…” Even this little touch made her skin tingle, the red on her cheeks reaching to her ears. “I’m here.”
His face was startled, eyes wide and mouth slightly open. The shock faded with her words. Solas’ eyes softened and the corners of his lips turned up in an almost shy smile. “I know. Thank you.”
They stayed that way until the firey colors of sunrise threaded the sky.
