Conversation and fluff abound this chapter! Also, with this chapter I break 50k words, which is just mind boggling.

Chapter Text

The mayor of Crestwood had vanished when the group returned, prompting wry grins from Fen’Falon and Dorian. When the four returned to Skyhold, Fen’Falon made a beeline for the rookery where Leliana preferred to lurk.

“Did you get my raven, Leliana?”

“I did, Inquisitor. I have my scouts out looks into the Western Approach now, as you requested.”

“Good. That’s good. Could you spare a few agents to find the mayor of Crestwood? He vanished after we did him a favour, and some documents I spotted in Old Crestwood seemed to implicate him in its flooding. In a very not-nice way.”

“It never is, Inquisitor. He ran, which means he has something to feel guilty about. My agents and I will look into it.”

“Thanks, Leliana.”

Fen’Falon traipsed down into the ever-growing library to find Dorian perusing a book.

“Nice book, Dorian?” she asked.

“I requested it weeks ago. Much of the information is woefully outdated, of course, but you never know when a kernel of truth could hide inside.” Dorian carefully set the book down on top of a pile of other books near his chair. “But I digress. What brings you here so soon, Fen?”

“Oh, you know, just a desire to see your handsome face.”

“I knew you couldn’t stay away from this much amazing for long, my dear.” The two mages laughed, enjoying the light banter with each other.

“I had a question for you, Fen’Falon,” Dorian said suddenly. “Why did Solas call you that - da harrel an? Are you two...together?” His accent in ancient elven was terrible.

Fen’Falon flushed a bit. “It’s just a nickname, Dorian.”

“So you two have progressed to pet names now? Do you have one for him, Fen?” Dorian caught on quick, a fact for which Fen’Falon was normally grateful. Right now it just made her want to hide under a heavy blanket where no one could see her. She wondered how on Thedas he’d managed to catch Solas’s soft words to her in Crestwood.

“Shush, Dorian.”

“No really, I want to know.” Dorian raised his eyebrows suggestively. “If you don’t have one for him yet, I could help you come up with one? Just give me all the juicy details.”

“Dorian, one of these days the Creators will get you back for these conversations and the only thing you will get from me is laughter.”

“You can’t just hold on your friends like this, Fen. Think of the pain you are causing my perfect mind!”

Fen’Falon rolled her eyes. “Fine, fine. Yes, Solas and I are a thing. Happy now?”

“You cannot just leave it at that, dear. It isn’t right. Inquiring minds wish to know.” Dorian grinned wide, clearly enjoying Fen’Falon’s discomfort at discussing a relationship where anyone could hear.

“Dorian, I swear by the Dread Wolf himself that if you don’t shush I’ll burn your perfect moustache off. We can have a funeral and everything for it.”

Dorian smirked at the elven apostate and held up his hands in surrender. “As you command, oh Inquisitorial one.”

“You’re an ass, Dorian. A loveable ass, but still an ass.”

“You forgot perfect too.”

Fen’Falon rolled her eyes, shook her head, and took the stairs down into the rotunda. Solas would not be there painting yet, she knew. He liked to relax in the rooms he had been given first, when they came back from a trip out to the gods only knew where. Now there was a thought. Fen’Falon decided to visit him at his rooms. The look of surprise on his face alone would be worth it.

Worth it was right. Fen’Falon didn’t even knock, she just walked into the room to be greeted by the sight of Solas’s bare back as she shut the door behind her. She could almost make out the gaps between muscles and even the curve of his hipbones just above the edge of his breeches. The sound of the door alerted Solas and quicker than her eyes could follow Solas had her arms twisted up against her back with her chest pressed into the wall.

Just as quickly he let go. “My apologies, ma vhenan. I occasionally react on instinct. It was thoughtless of me.”

Fen’Falon grinned and turned to lean her back against the wall. “Forgiven, Solas. Although…”

Solas quirked an eyebrow at her. “Although, what?”

Fen’Falon blushed. How did one go about telling someone that you kinda liked it when they were scary? Fen’Harel take it, she would go for the blunt method.

“Um...How do I put this without sounding crazy?”

Solas grasped her hands with his.

“Okay,” Fen’Falon said. “I kinda like it when you do things like that.”

“Like what, da’harellan?” asked Solas.

“Like what you just did. Like that one night in Crestwood against a tree. It was...nice is too mild. Amazing is closer. I liked it. A lot.” She blushed deeper, her face nearly as red as Sera’s clothing she was sure. Solas pulled her into a hug, his chin rested atop her head.

“Then I shall endeavour to do more of it, vhenan, since it pleases you so.”

His bare chest was distracting, Fen’Falon decided. It looked like the ones that sculptors gave to statues, except it was real and warm and right next to her.

“Vhenan?” he asked.

“Mmmm?” Gods he was comfortable to hold like this.

“Is there something the matter?”

“Mmmm no,” Fen’Falon murmured.

“Might I ask why you have not let go, then?”

“Comfy.”

“Ah. Come then, there is a better place for this.” Solas wrapped his arms around Fen’Falon and picked her up, depositing her on his bed. Fen’Falon twisted around to see him stacking untouched pillows between the bed and the wall. Solas settled himself into the pillows even as he pulled Fen’Falon into him, her back against his chest with his arms resting around her waist. His fingertips just barely came to her hipbones. It was nice to see that she had been right, those months ago in Haven - her head did fit nicely into the hollow of his shoulder.

Fen’Falon wasn’t even aware of when she fell asleep, curled into Solas like that. She was aware of when she awoke. Someone was knocking on Solas’s door loudly, almost sounding panicked. When Solas refused to answer, his hands smoothing her hair against her head, the door was flung open to reveal Commander Cullen.

“Oh! Um. I - uh - I’ll just...I’ll be going then,” Cullen said. Fen’Falon briefly wondered if he was born that awkward or if he had just become so from years of templar training. The Inquisition Commander backed out of the room and shut the door, and Fen’Falon could hear his footsteps echoing away down the hallway.

“Solas...shouldn’t we stop him?”

“I thought you did not care what the others think, vhenan.”

“I mean, I don’t but...You seemed to.”

“What’s done is done, vhenan. There is no undoing it now, however much we may wish we could.”