Chapter Text
Solas worked his tongue against her methodically, taking great care to touch her gently and move around the sensitive flesh that was flushed red and raw under him. Light, teasing strokes traced along her slit, beginning its path anew just as the tip of his tongue brushed her swollen clit. Each time a sweep of his tongue completed its upward stroke, her hips gave a shudder that reverberated through her whole body while her thighs clenched helplessly around his head.
He could spend a whole lifetime between her legs, driving her to unfathomable heights of pleasure, finally allowing himself to indulge in the relief she offered to a foolish and lonely man. Though he was not deserving of her adoration, he would lay worship to her body and spirit the way any elvhen would have done in the days of Arlathan, despite their austere surroundings. Her eyes fluttered beneath her eyelids, her breasts rose and fell with labored breaths as the glint of the candlelight caught the ink on her forehead.
The vallaslin troubled him, though he did his best to put it from his mind. He had never taken a woman to bed who bore the markings, and he had to remind himself that they meant something different in this age. She was not elvhen. She was not a slave. She was Dalish.
She was here of her own free will. And she wanted this. Wanted him.
It was quite remarkable when he really considered it; this was a woman who spent her first week in the Inquisition sleeping in the stables because it was more familiar than the Andrastians that had imprisoned her, and had eschewed the woolen socks and boots they provided her for over a week until her toes threatened frostbite. At that time she had seem every bit the Dalish savage the humans considered her.
He had considered her as such, at the beginning, to his great regret. When she lay unconscious in the dungeon his eyes had fallen on the markings and he had assumed her as arrogant as every other Dalish that had dismissed him as a flat-ear madman. He'd expected no different from this Dalish keeper in training.
Oh, but how she had proven him wrong. Her stare was wild and intense, as one who grew up in the wilderness, but it was merely a mask for a quiet and soft individual with an inquisitive soul that resonated deeply with him. It was merely a shame it had taken him so long to see it in her, after their first few unpleasant interactions. He saw he needed more tact with his words, as she had come to him willingly and with an open mind. It was not something he went out of his way to do, but he conceded to himself that he need not antagonize her needlessly, if he were to earn her trust in order to secure the orb.
He had kept a healthy, polite distance from the others in the Inquisition and took great care to be as unassuming as possible. Most people who looked at him simply saw what they wanted to see; a severe elven hedge mage who cared more for dreams than reality, humorless and bereft of emotion. He did little do dissuade others of this opinion.
He would be a ghost flitting through an unnatural reality. Observing, but not truly a part of this broken age.
Yet Ashanna had seen the humor and passion that so many overlooked, pulling silently on the strings to his mask until it slipped further with each passing day in response to a kindred spirit such as hers. He found he had appreciated the reaction he got when he showed them to her; the interest reflected in her eyes when he spoke of spirit friends he'd known or discussed magical theory. Delivering books on various arcane subjects for him to the rotunda without being prompted. The heartfelt relief on her face to see him when she regained consciousness after the fall of Haven as he healed the frostbite from her body. He wanted her to notice him. The want turned into an ache until he could not even seek relief in the fade, for his emotions churned inside him in a murky, turbulent mess that was far too likely to attract the attention of demons.
She was real. And when she touched him she pulled pieces of his spirit with her and bound him to this reality. The very thought of it rocked him to his core; it threatened everything he'd put into play.
Fingernails dug into his scalp and broke him from his melancholic thoughts, bringing him back to the task at hand, so to speak, as she began to press harder on his head to urge his tongue to move faster. It appeared her earlier sensitivity was now being overtaken by her pleasure beginning to crest again.
"Ashanna. Do not rush me." He murmured from between her legs, hooking his hands under her ass to pull her closer to his mouth. His tongue traced their earlier path along her flesh.
"But...you-" She stammered, and Solas smiled into her skin at the distraction in her voice. Whatever she was going to say trailed off into a hitched moan when he licked her forcefully, pressing his face harshly into her flesh and creating a beautiful arch in her back. Still, he avoided the spot she was assuredly guiding his head towards. "You tease; I don't think I can-"
"The ancient elves made love for years, sometimes decades on end. I am certain you can endure longer than this, vhenan."
"You saw that in the fade?" She gasped as his nose brushed her clit, and he couldn't suppress the chuckle at the wonder in her voice even with her legs spread before him so.
"I have witnessed many aspects of ancient elven culture in the fade. This includes memories of carnal passion strong enough for spirits to remember the emotion between the People that lived there once before."
That was not a lie at least, such things were possible to witness in the fade for those who knew where to look. He did not wish for her to linger on that line of thought however, so he grasped her ankles instead and pulled her legs upwards, letting her calves rest on his shoulders while his tongue found its way back to her clit, finally giving her the pressure and rhythm she so desired.
No matter how her hips fought his grip, nor when her pleading turned into gasped curses did he slow his pace. Her body arched and trembled from the tension snapping through her body, and Solas found he greatly enjoyed how demonstrative she was with her pleasure.
“Elgar’nan, ar garemah, ar garemah!“
She cried out every name of her elven pantheon as she shattered beneath his tongue, though of course omitting the name of the one actually responsible for her pleasure, Solas noted dryly.
Still, he did not stop, holding her through her trembling and starting anew until she broke beneath him once, twice more. When her bud was too painful to touch directly his fingers slid back into her, twisting magic around them to pulse; tendrils of magic curling gently inside her until she came clenching around his fingers. Only then did he withdraw to slide up beside her, nuzzling the column of her neck to lick the light trail of sweat sliding down.
She turned towards him, delirious and glazed with sated lust he'd seen countless times before of a women truly and thoroughly pleasured. Seeing it on Ashanna however, was far more gratifying and he found a smile came to his face effortlessly, feeling every bit the lovesick fool he knew he was.
She let out a weak laugh at the sight of him, nose crinkling as she reached up to wipe some of the slick that still ran from his chin. Her tongue darted out to taste herself on her fingertips, pink and wet. Something about the image stirred his passion until it boiled, overflowing through his veins, and the ragged moan that slipped from his throat surprised even him. He reached for her on reflex, gathering her in his arms to press their naked skin together. He kissed her hotly, devouring her with his mouth until she was gasping and writhing against him once more. Her shaking hands reached between them to pull at the lacings on his breeches, clumsy in her eagerness to get him unclothed.
When he was freed from the troublesome cloth he parted from her momentarily to discard his leggings and smallclothes, kicking them to another corner of the room in a decidedly inelegant motion. Ashanna closed her fist around him and he was the one to gasp now at the pure need that rolled through him, his hips bucking involuntarily into her grip as he pressed his forehead into her shoulder. His head spun and he took a deep breath to steady himself. Void take him, it had been so long since he’d been touched in such a way.
“I want you,” Ashanna’s breath ghosted hot and wet against him as her lips found the point of his ear. She pushed her hips against his, letting his cock slide up against the wetness between her thighs. All it would take was a quick jerk of his hips and he could slide inside her easily. He wanted to; his whole body vibrated with unspent need as it desired nothing more than to push into her and spend himself between her legs; making love for hours until they were exhausted. Although such an outcome was still very likely to take place this evening.
Grasping her waist, he slide them down so that she lay atop of him still with his back resting against the harsh woolen sheets. Her mouth fell open in a silent gasp as the head of his cock pressed against her, and he took the opportunity to slide his tongue into her mouth briefly, withdrawing when she chased him with her own tongue. He couldn't have stopped the grin that spread on his face if he tried at the frustrated sound Ashanna let out when he pulled back. Her revenge was swift in the form of her teeth pressing into the side of his neck, hard enough to leave a mark.
"The Herald of Andraste marking her apostate lover? What would your faithful think?" He chided her mockingly.
"They already refer to us as rabbits that have nothing to do but rut and multiply, so we might as well play the part," Ashanna scoffed.
"A part I would play with you gladly," Solas placed his hands on either side of her head, kissing her deeply. Still, a troublesome thought began to wind through his head at her words, and he broke the kiss to cough awkwardly.
"Ah. In regards to...multiplying, perhaps we should...."
"Oh. I suppose we should have discussed that. Do not worry, it's been taken care of."
He raised an eyebrow at her, and she sighed as if put upon to explain further.
"I asked Leiliana to procure some witherstalk for me. Discretely, I assure you." She kissed the tip of his nose. "I've been taking a potion for a few weeks."
"I see." He allowed his hands to roam her backside briefly before chuckling softly. "A few weeks then? You surprise me."
"I am nothing if not prepared." She arched herself on him, sighing blissfully. "Creators, will you please get in me already?"
"Ma nuvenin."
Reaching between them, he adjusted himself so he could push into her slowly. She took over then, her hips pinning him and slowly sinking down onto his erection. He trembled with the effort it took not to move a muscle while she adjusted to him, focusing all his attention to the way she worried her lip between her teeth and the flush of freckles trailing down her body instead of the wet, warm tightness that was surrounding him. He could tell she was still sensitive from their earlier actions from the taut way she was holding her body and the line of tension crossing her forehead.
“Ha’mi’in, ma’lath.” He urged, pressing his mouth to the side of her neck. A small burst of rejuvenation magic flowed from his fingertips, soothing and gentle and making her moan as it flowed into her.
Letting out a shaky exhale, she relaxed her body and sank the rest of the way down, hissing between clenched teeth as he glided all the way inside her. His eyes raked down her body and the spot where they were joined.
Then her forehead was pressed against his, one arm braced on his bicep and another wrapped behind his neck to hold him close while her hips rolled against him experimentally and drew mewling sounds from the both of them.
“Alright?” He murmured into her dark hair, damp with sweat as he kissed her temple.
“You’re so…” She hesitated, blushing. “It’s deeper in me than I expected,” she groaned, wriggling in his lap as she sought to adjust herself.
“Flatterer,” He chuckled, dropping his hands to her waist to steady her so he could thrust ever so gently up into her. The moan and the motion it induced in her body caused the mood melt into something decidedly more primal, and for a while no more words were said between them except for the sigh of a name between heavy pants and the press of lips as she rode him. Her movements were slow and hesitant at first, almost frustratingly so as she struggled to find a rhythm that was suitable for the both of them. A couple of deep thrusts underneath her and his hands pressing on her hips allowed them to meet into a compatible synchronicity that was pleasing to the both of them. A rhythm that was both controlled and languid, urgent in its pace but allowing them to simply enjoy being connected so intimately rather than just rutting against one another, chasing their release.
Though engaging in something so base also had an undeniable appeal the more he considered it. Perhaps it would be something for them to indulge in at a later date.
For the first time in a very, very long time Solas found his mind uncluttered and ground very firmly in the present as his attention was consumed entirely by the woman in his lap. The soft skin yielding under his hands was particularly fascinating, as they roamed the planes of her body with wild abandon; eager to touch her for the simple pleasure of being able to. His staff-callused fingers danced along her spine, watching the goosebumps forming on her skin despite the heat in the room. Their eyes met, her gaze burning him instantly with heavy intent.
"I love you."
The sudden confession drew the air from his lungs; his mouth opened but only a choked sound emerged. Words however, were insufficient to express his feelings towards her. Instead he slid his hand up to brush her hand aside, grasping her face gently to press his mouth to hers. She moaned into the kiss, the sound vibrating into his skin and heightening his desire for her.
"You are more important to me than I could have imagined," Solas breathed once they parted for air. "I..."
The air felt heavy with all he left unsaid; words formed in his throat then died on his tongue. So much he wanted to tell her, but an uncertainly churned in his gut at the thought and his inability to express himself. She deserved so much more, deserved the truth, deserved someone better...
Supporting her back, he twisted them sharply so their positions were reversed and he was now controlling the languid pace. A small squeak of surprise from her as he snapped his hips against her, hard, pouring all his feelings into action rather than fumbling with words and secrets he could not bring himself to speak.
She was exquisite; her flesh slick and hot and yielding easily under him. Her moans filled the room as he quickened his pace; the headboard now beginning to hit the wall from the force of his thrusts. Molten pleasure flooded his veins with each rock of their hips, the sensation overwhelming after a thousand years without touch. All composure was lost to him now; he panted, snarled and grunted from the effort of learning her body with his own. When her body grew rigid beneath his he poured his magic into her again, holding her close as she came again with a silent gasp in his arms.
He slowed his pace slightly with the intention of allowing her to recover, but her hands snapped to his ass, pushing him deeper.
"Solas, finish in me." Her voice was weak, pleading. "Please."
And he could not deny her, nor his body any longer. Burying his face into the crook of her neck he let himself go, bringing himself to the very edge. A burst of white behind his eyelids, his body shook from the quiet intensity of the orgasm coursing through every fiber of his body as a series of small gasps escaped him. Ashanna let out a small moan of her own when she felt him release inside her, her nails digging into his shoulders. His lips parted hers, his tongue meeting her own in a kiss that tasted of desperation.
A moment that seemed to last a thousand years stretched until they both relaxed on their sides boneless against one another, her leg slung over his hips. His bed was narrow, and did not afford much room for them to spread out.
It did not seem to bother either of them.
"Um," she mumbled, her voice sounding raw and hitched.
"Indeed," He agreed.
They lay like that for some time, each holding the other while they allowed their thundering hearts a chance to calm. Solas could not recall a time he felt more at ease. He imagined them repeating this dance the next night, and for many others.
Perhaps for longer still. It would require much thought on the subject. Truthfully it was a terrifying thought. The tender look in her eyes was enough to make him rethink everything. Would she look at him thus once she knew his true name? The name her people cowered at and left offerings so that he would not turn his gaze to them?
His face must have clearly showed his turmoil as she placed her hands on his cheeks and turned his head up towards hers. "You're thinking unpleasant things," she said simply.
"It is a habit of mine. Forgive me, vhenan. It is...difficult to explain." The understatement of an age.
She smiled gently, making his heart swell and head pound. "You don't have to explain unless you want to."
He remained silent, digesting her words.
"I'm sorry I avoided you after we returned," Ashanna admitted after the silence stretched uncomfortably between them.
"It is not something I require an apology for. You are entitled to your own reactions."
"Yes, I am aware of that. I knew that when I was avoiding you. It was stupid. I reacted purely emotionally even though it had nothing to do with you."
"Most people normally respond from emotion first, logic second," Solas cocked his head to the side. "Though I admit, it is something I do not see often from you."
"The nightmare demon knew exactly how to push my buttons to get a reaction. Before we left for Adamant I had received a missive from Clan Lavellan. It was...." her voice choked, her eyes shifting to stare at the wall rather than him. "My keeper was stating this would be the last time I would hear from her."
Solas steeled his face, rubbing circles into her back as she struggled with her words. It was understandable that this would be upsetting for her. Though he could not comprehend why her clan would be so foolish as to cut contact off completely. It was absurd to think; she was a steadily growing force in Thedas; an elf that had been raised to an object of worship to the humans that oppressed them. Allying themselves as the clan that raised her would only benefit them. If they shunned her, it was due to foolish prejudices or superstition.
"They are fools to not realize what you offer them," He remarked, not bothering to hide the contempt he felt.
Her face flushed. "You don't understand. They only see what they expected me to do for years. Run away from my duties just like my traitor father. I am and always will be Harellan'ashalan."
***
Elvish Translation
ar garemah - I'm about to come
Ha’mi’in, ma’lath - Relax, my love
Ma Nuvenin - As you wish
Harellan'ashalan - Daughter of a traitor (cobbled together from project elvhen; may not be totally accurate)