Chapter Text
A line of moonlight spilled through the gap in the curtains and cut across Ellana's arm. Solas traced it gently with his fingers as he watched her sleep, careful not to wake her. The last night Ellana had spent in his home, her dream of the Breach had sent her sleepwalking out into the garden. He worried it might happen again now that they were back.
Solas knew that watching her like this was an indulgence he should not allow himself. She had granted him many intimacies, but he worried this was too much; surely she would not enjoy knowing how soft she looked as she slept. Her dark lashes lay still atop her cheeks, and he thought again - as he had the first time he'd seen her like this - that such quiet did not suit her.
Eventually, he succumbed to the steady rhythm of her breathing and the appeal of resting his head on her chest. He closed his eyes and tried to calm his excitement for all that was to come.
In the morning they breakfasted at his favorite café, then bought groceries, then stopped at the boulangerie for fresh bread and a half-dozen croissants. By the time they arrived back home, Solas was overwhelmed by the newness of it all - mundane errands he'd run thousands of times transformed to something extraordinary.
Ellana was content as ever to live out of her suitcase, but he rushed to make room for her. By the end of their second day in Lydes, he'd cleaned out a drawer in his dresser. Two days after that he finished reorganizing the closet in his spare room so she could hang her clothes. Gradually, she filled the space that he made.
Solas learned new things about her each day. She ran in the mornings, listening to music so loudly he could hear it bleeding from her earphones when she arrived home. She enjoyed cooking - a truly shocking revelation, though her abilities seemed to be primarily limited to shellfish (which he understood, given where she'd spent most of her life) and cookies (which he did not particularly understand but certainly enjoyed). She was unable to reach most of what was in his kitchen cabinets, a problem which she solved by loudly calling his name any time she needed to summon him to retrieve something from the higher shelves.
She had almost no experience with pets but was determined to forge a bond with Parchment. Unfortunately, her enthusiasm was hindering her cause more than helping it. Solas thought that perhaps she would eventually learn the same lesson he had - that patience and, occasionally, feigned indifference would serve her much better.
A day passed, and then another. Soon it was a week, and then two.
In the evenings, he taught her to dance.
Solas quickly realized that Ellana was the sort of student who was accustomed to things coming naturally to her, and so she did not handle her mistakes all that gracefully. His repertoire of Dalish curses expanded greatly. His toes suffered. He looked forward to it every day.
He remained uncertain how they would manage at the gala, though not from a lack of confidence in Ellana's ability to learn the steps. She improved steadily, even if it was not fast enough for her limited patience. The issue, rather, was the way their lessons typically ended.
It was impossible to hold her in his arms for so long, to watch her ears go pink as they progressed, to tease her lightly when she misstepped and see a retributive fury crinkle the corners of her eyes, and not want her. It always started the same way - with her inching closer to his chest than the position required, and with him spreading his fingers across her lower back to draw her gradually against his hips. What happened next took varying shapes. They rarely made it quite so far as the bedroom but the sofa was nearby. The floor had proven adequate on more than one occasion, and once - memorably - they put the island in the kitchen to good use. Such diversions would not be possible at the gala itself.
Caught within the happy daydreams of their new routine, they'd managed to put Alexius' threats out of their minds until a Tevinter news story slowly began to make its way to Ferelden and Orlesian outlets. An unnamed source with the Ministry of Culture and Heritage had leaked one letter that would be part of a larger, forthcoming publication. The letter in question was addressed to a Tevinter magister, and contained a very direct threat of assassination should he not immediately surrender his estate to Inquisition forces.
Ellana was annoyed by the irony of it - she complained to Solas that such an academic curiosity wouldn't have received this kind of attention had the Inquisitor not recently returned to the public imagination. They both handled a flurry of concerned emails - Ellana from the Journal and her literary agent, Solas from the Orlesian Ministry of Culture as well as Briala, who had received several sudden cancellations from some high-profile gala invitees. They did the best they could under the circumstances to smooth things over and assure everyone their own research would provide context for the Inquisitor's actions.
Later that week, Ellana told Solas she was going to make a quick trip to Denerim - the first time they would be separated since she'd joined him in Lydes. They both handled it as well as could be expected. Ellana paced the house, debating (mostly with herself) whether she should book a hotel for the pair of them rather than stay with Leliana as she usually did. It didn't matter that she was scheduled for an entire day of meetings at the Journal, with her agent, and a dress fitting with Josephine. She wavered on her decision at least four times (and those were only the ones she expressed out loud) before he finally heard her mumble that she was being ridiculous with an exasperated huff.
Once she made up her mind, Solas immediately called Dorian to schedule a dinner in Val Royeaux the night she was gone. He did this because it had been too long since they'd last spoken at length, and there was plenty of new research to discuss - certainly not because he wasn't ready to spend an entire night alone in the house.
He saw Ellana off to her train in the morning and then spent the rest of the day reviewing the Inquisitor's letters at the university, preferring the hum of voices and bright lights of the lab to the quiet that would await him at home. When he finally returned to his house in the afternoon, he spent an hour in the garden, tearing weeds and pruning the ivy that was always one sunny week away from reclaiming its hold on his fence.
He showered, dressed, and then sat at the table because it was still too early to head to the station. Parchment made several determined attempts to claim his lap and he had to reluctantly wave her off so she wouldn't leave fur all over his pants.
Solas stared blankly out the rear windows, aware and annoyed that he should be using his time to do anything else.
Parchment crossed to the closed garden door with an angry flick of her tail. She circled once, and then several more times before finally settling down on top of a pair of Ellana's sandals that she'd left on the floor.
With a small smile, Solas stood, making a slow survey of his house. She'd left a mug in the sink after hurriedly drinking a cup of coffee so she wouldn't be late to catch her train. A threadbare flannel shirt that he thought he'd disposed of years ago was draped over one of the dining chairs - she'd found it somewhere in his closet and claimed it as her own. When he straightened himself in the bathroom, preparing to leave, he spotted a pair of her earrings on the vanity. The evidence of her was everywhere.
Solas gave the house one last look, murmured a goodbye to Parchment, and closed the door behind him. As he walked to the train station, he told himself he could survive one night.
"Tell me everything."
Ellana burst into awful, embarrassing laughter as Leliana plopped down beside her. The futon in her apartment wasn't all that comfortable but Ellana loved staying there. It always made her feel a bit special - Leliana didn't let just anyone know where she lived, and it was such a cozy surprise to walk through her door and find a place so different from the intimidating image she cultivated at work.
Potted plants - much healthier than the ones that surely must be dead at Ellana's place by now - were scattered across nearly every surface. Much of the decor was handmade, fruits of Leliana's numerous hobbies. There were macrame curtains covering the windows and a crocheted blanket spread across the back of the couch. The main room that comprised Leliana's kitchen, living room, and dining room was faintly illuminated by little, white string lights that hung from the walls.
"I've already told you most of it," Ellana said, carefully scooting back on the thin mattress to give Leliana more room. "And anything I haven't told you … well." She took a sip from her wine glass and shrugged.
"That is so unfair!" Leliana objected with an annoyed sigh. "I listened to you cry about him for weeks."
"I really didn't cry that many -"
"And I pulled you out of that club and took you home when you were making an ass of yourself."
"I really don't remember most of -"
"What was the point if I don't get something in return?"
"Being a good friend?" Ellana offered.
"Not enough," Leliana said with a very serious shake of her head.
"I can tell you about the meeting I had with my literary agent today," she suggested, guessing this might be one of the few things that might actually provide a sufficient distraction.
"Is there an offer already?"
Ellana nodded slowly, having not quite absorbed the news herself. "An advance. From the same publishing house I signed with last time. Apparently the old book sold out all the copies they had left and they ordered a second print run. That, plus the popularity of the article, has them pretty eager to make sure I don't go anywhere else."
"Even with the news out of Tevinter?"
"They're still deciding how they feel about that, apparently," she said, echoing what her agent had told her. "I guess they think a more provocative story could be an interesting angle - Sister Jeanne turned assassin, that kind of thing."
"Maker, what a sequel that would be," Leliana laughed.
"But they're a bit worried, too. They don't want anyone from Tevinter to publish before we can."
"How soon do they want a proposal?"
"Yesterday," Ellana rolled her eyes. "But really, they want it as soon as it's done. I'm already working on it, but obviously it's complicated when we're still sifting through the letters. We're pretty confident the person the Inquisitor was writing to was a high-ranking spy in her organization, so nothing she wrote is straightforward."
Leliana nodded her approval. "You're going to let me edit the proposal before you submit it, aren't you?"
"Let you?" Ellana laughed and took another sip of her wine. "If you're willing, I'd be grateful."
"You should know my motives are entirely selfish. I just want to know more about her."
"She's … not what I expected, honestly," Ellana said. "It looks like her association with the Chantry was pretty limited. Only a year or two, directly. And then a much more informal relationship with the Divine she helped choose - Victoria."
"Who was very controversial, from the little we know of her," Leliana said.
"Yeah … well. She's about to get a lot more controversial. She and the Inquisitor worked together closely, though completely behind the scenes. They were each pushing for reforms for elves and … for some other groups as well. The Divine was able to do it out in the open - lean on the Orlesian court, that sort of thing. But she was also helping the Inquisitor with more covert plans."
"Such as?"
Ellana took a breath before she explained.
"Funding and aiding slave rebellions that were breaking out across Tevinter."
Leliana blinked at her, then made a quick trip to the kitchen to retrieve the bottle of wine and refill both their glasses. "Are you absolutely certain?" she asked as she finished pouring for Ellana.
"I will be before I submit the proposal. But, basically, yes."
For the moment, Ellana omitted the more complex details that she and Solas had not yet decided how to explain. The Inquisition had been formally disbanded after only a few years, and yet the Inquisitor herself had a large force at her disposal shortly after the battle Ellana had seen in her memories. The letters made it clear that these were elves once loyal to Fen'Harel, who'd walked away from alienages in the South or escaped their bonds in the North and then risked everything to help others do the same.
The Inquisitor wasted no time after his death. She was issuing letters and orders days after that battle, acting swiftly before his people could disperse. She had a handful of spies within his ranks, as he did within hers, and she somehow convinced (or forced, the language was too vague to be certain) all of them to work together to bring the remaining forces under her control.
They invoked his name frequently, encouraged the use of his symbols, and all the while muddied the truth and made themselves more difficult to track. Their attacks were chaotic by design, a precaution to make it impossible for Tevinter to realize how much coordination was truly happening. Their enemies could not understand if the Dread Wolf was real, nor whether a single person or many held the title. By the time the Radiant War began, the name Fen'Harel was synonymous with rebellion.
"And what has Solas been doing while you've been writing the proposal?" Leliana asked.
"He's been deciphering the letters - figuring out the logic of the vague ones and then actually decoding a few others. We thought at first we'd have to bring in a cryptographer to help but … well, now we don't."
Leliana eyed her curiously. The truth was that Solas had figured out one of the fully encoded letters first. They suspected the cipher had been provided by the spies who once worked for Fen'Harel, since it was only used after the Inquisitor had taken over his forces. It could also explain why Solas had found the code so simple to break - an explanation Ellana hated to consider, no matter how much sense it made. From there, he worked backwards to untangle the ambiguities in the earlier letters. He'd done it all in a little over two weeks while she watched him in awe.
"Is that his?" Leliana pointed at the too large t-shirt Ellana had changed into when they got back to the apartment. She obviously already knew the answer.
"I just grabbed the first clean thing I found in the dryer," Ellana lied.
It had not been in the dryer. It had been in his dresser and she'd packed it specifically because it smelled a little like him and that was horrifyingly sentimental in a way she knew Leliana would find adorable and probably never let her live down.
"I don't believe you," Leliana said, and she was not at all surprised. "So now you need to answer at least one question for me."
"I'm probably not going to do that."
Leliana set her glass on the end table and then held up her hands in front of her. She placed her palms together, and slowly began to move them apart. Ellana nearly snorted wine out her nose.
"Oh come on," she groaned. "How old are you? Stop."
"Stop here? Really?" Leliana hands were a few short inches away from each other. "I'm surprised. That's not how he carries himself in the photos I've seen."
"I am not doing this with you."
"You don't have to say a word. Blink when I get there."
Ellana shut her eyes. "You know I slept with him before we left Boranehnan. It's not like I hadn't …" She flailed her free hand in lieu of finishing the thought.
"That's different. How much do you really see during a one-night stand?"
"Two nights."
"A two-night stand, then."
"Plenty," Ellana admitted.
She could sense Leliana was preparing another salvo of questions when she was saved by her phone buzzing beside her.
"Is that him?" Leliana demanded.
"Yes."
Why was she blushing? There was absolutely no reason for it, but she couldn't seem to stop herself.
"What does he say?"
"Genuinely nothing interesting. He's in Val Royeaux having dinner with Dorian, who apparently didn't make it onto the guest list for the gala. He's just asking if I can talk to the event's organizer about it."
"The gala!" Leliana grinned at the mention of it. "Did Cass tell you she got an invite?"
"She said something about it while I was in the office earlier. Are you going with her?"
"No. I'm covering for her while she's gone. And I might be a bit sad about that if the alternative weren't so interesting."
"What do you mean?" Ellana asked, intrigued.
Leliana lowered her voice to just above a whisper, as if they weren't sitting alone in her apartment. "She's taking Varric."
"Taking him, like … as her date?"
"No, and don't let her hear you say that. She's been very clear that she's doing him a favor - I heard that he practically begged her to go."
When Leliana said things like that, Ellana couldn't help but imagine that she had listening devices planted in every office at the Journal.
"Why does he want to go so badly?"
"He claims it's for research. I don't know what he's working on," Leliana said, anticipating her next question. "But you know Varric. It's probably his next mystery novel."
"Maybe."
Varric had been out on assignment when Ellana visited the office that afternoon, which meant she hadn't had an opportunity to corner him about the Elvhen Glory chapters. She was convinced her instincts were correct, but she still wanted to confront him in person so she could see the look on his face. Varric was too good of a liar - at all times but especially in text - to risk him being able to wiggle his way out of the conversation.
"You're not going to believe this," she began slowly, excited by the sudden realization that she might actually have a piece of gossip Leliana didn't have first. "He definitely shouldn't have told me, but Solas said that Varric and Cass -"
Leliana waved a hand to stop her. "You should not betray his confidence for something I already know."
"Shit!" Ellana slapped a hand down on the mattress and then rushed to steady her wine before it could spill. "Why did everyone know this before me?"
"Because Varric rarely goes a full week without mentioning it."
"Yeah, but I thought he might be lying! Or at least exaggerating a bit."
"That's always a good guess," Leliana nodded, "it just happened to be wrong this time."
Ellana let out an annoyed grunt as she turned her attention back to her phone and tapped out a reply to Solas. Then, the wine or the faint scent of him on the shirt she wore or maybe just the fact that they'd been separated for several hours planted an idea in her head.
"Here," she handed Leliana her glass. "I'll be right back."
"Something important you need to send?" Leliana asked, her eyes focused knowingly on Ellana's phone.
"Just using the restroom if that's alright with you," Ellana snapped as she walked away.
She had only begun to consider her options when Leliana called out to her.
"There's a full length mirror in my room that you're more than welcome to use. The angle will be much more flattering. Just please try not to wake Schmooples!"
Ellana poked her head around the corner, glared at Leliana, then crossed the hall to the faintly nug-scented bedroom and shut the door.
"An embarrassing oversight," Solas said. "The Ministry of Culture should be aware of your work in the Arbor Wilds. You have been modest about your efforts, but I doubt Orlais would have the Inquisitor's portrait at all had you not been there to persuade Alexius."
"I am so rarely accused of modesty I hardly know how to respond!" Dorian smirked as he sat back in his chair. "But if Orlais would like to acknowledge my contributions to its cultural record - particularly since I am currently applying for citizenship here - who am I to complain?"
Dorian returned his focus to the confit de canard he'd ordered. Solas was uncertain how his friend had even managed to get reservations on such short notice. They sat in the restaurant's atrium, beneath a domed roof and surrounded by stained glass windows depicting fields of sunflowers. Solas thought that he should have waited until Ellana could have joined them. She would have loved both the surroundings and the food.
He slipped his phone from his pocket to check if she had replied.
"Ellana has promised to speak with Briala - the curator at Halamshiral in charge of the event," he told Dorian as he read her message. "I would expect an invitation by the end of the day tomorrow."
Dorian laughed loudly in reply and Solas realized he must have sounded as if he were either joking or boasting, neither of which he had intended.
"She does have a unique gift for persuasion, your girl," Dorian said with a grin.
Solas bristled at Ellana being characterized as such, while also wrestling with an equally insistent part of his mind that quite enjoyed the idea.
"I shall have to visit you two after we all make it through this gala business. I admit I'm terribly curious to see the letters you found in Nevarra myself."
"Of course, you'd be welcome. I am not certain how long Ellana will be in Lydes, but -"
"Aren't you?" Dorian regarded him with a smug tilt of his head.
When he didn't immediately reply, Dorian placed his utensils on either side of his plate and shook his head.
"Solas, my friend. From one stubborn bachelor to another, allow me to make an observation. That woman is far more smitten than you are capable of seeing. And you can't see it because you are too smitten to view the situation with anything even approaching objectivity."
Though he was, in the distant recesses of his mind, entirely aware of everything Dorian said, hearing the confirmation from someone else was a balm Solas hadn't quite realized he needed.
"I am obviously aware of her affections -"
"Affections?" Dorian's voice rose and Solas side-eyed the crowded tables surrounding them. "When we met in Vyrantium she was planning your wedding in front of you."
"She was joking. With you."
"She was joking. Until she absolutely wasn't. I know you saw it too."
Solas drummed his fingers across his knee and tried to force the words orange zest and white chocolate buttercream from his thoughts.
"Dorian, I appreciate that you think you're being helpful, but I know her. It's best for me to be cautious. She does not wish to feel as if she is being dragged along by some inescapable tide. She wants to see the shape of her decisions - assess them logically."
"Oh, please," Dorian scoffed and Solas continued on, ignoring him.
"There is nothing logical about insisting she move faster than she is able. It's bad enough that I bought a ring -"
"You bought a ring? Maker's breath!" This time, Dorian was practically yelling and Solas was certain he saw a few heads turn toward their table. "How long has it been?"
"About a month." He would not give Dorian the satisfaction of knowing he could have cited the precise number of days. "Though I bought it before then."
Dorian took a deep drink from his cocktail glass, momentarily stunned.
"I see now I was wrong to think you needed my help, or at least that you needed my help in this way," Dorian said when he recovered. "The two of you are living in a lovely state of delusion and the best I can hope is that you manage to snap out of simultaneously. She'll be fully moved in by the fall and you'll be married by this time next year - and, mind you, those are extremely conservative estimates on my part."
It was extraordinarily unhelpful to hear Dorian saying aloud all the things he wished secretly in his head, particularly when he'd been working very hard to control such impulses.
"I am considering applying to Markham," Solas admitted for the first time to anyone other than himself. "It would be closer to her apartment in Ostwick and her clan in Wycome."
"Well if you're asking for my professional advice …" Solas waved for Dorian to continue, knowing he would do so anyway. "I think it would be very silly to make a move at this point in your career. Lydes has been good to you. You've been good to Lydes. You'll probably end up head of your department as soon as whoever's in charge now decides to retire."
"Perhaps. But Ellana has made it clear she has no desire to live in Orlais."
"Well neither did I and look at me!" Dorian proclaimed loudly. "Dining on Orlesian delicacies in its capital city! Speaking of which, I am going to finish my dinner now, before it gets any colder. And you need to ask her before you do anything stupid."
"Of course I will," Solas grumbled, stabbing a piece of eggplant from his plate.
They ate in silence for a few minutes until he felt his phone buzz in his pocket.
Solas was caught entirely unprepared for the photo that awaited him. It had been too long since they'd last played such games.
He dropped his fork. It bounced off his plate and then clattered to the ground. He cleared his throat.
Ellana stood in a dimly lit room with her back to a mirror, her upper body twisted so she could look over her shoulder with her phone held near her chin. He couldn't quite make out her eyes - they were downturned, looking into her phone rather than at her reflection. Her lips were pursed mischievously as she studied the image on her screen to ensure it would have the most devastating effect possible.
In her other hand she gripped the bottom of the shirt she wore - was that his shirt? Solas suddenly noticed - and pulled it high enough to expose the side of her breast, a sliver of her torso, and all of her ass. Her legs were just barely open, and he could not determine whether she was truly leaning over slightly or if he simply wanted her to be. Regardless, he could not tear his eyes from her delicate curves, nor the shadowed suggestion between her legs.
He made the mistake of opening his mouth and heard his breath come out in a broken gasp. As he stared down at her image, another message appeared.
Ellana: How's dinner?
"Monsieur?" A waiter hurried over to offer him a new utensil.
"Merci," Solas said absently. He quickly turned his phone over and set it on the tabletop. His cheeks were burning as he adjusted the napkin on his lap.
"Well," Dorian drawled, barely holding back laughter. "I hardly have to guess what that was, do I? Should I give you a moment? Do you need to be excused to … gather your thoughts?"
"No," Solas coolly replied. He took in a long breath through his nose.
"I could hardly blame you if you did. How often do men of our age receive such photos? I speak generally, of course," he clarified. "My unique charms ensure that a number of exquisite specimens are always available on my phone."
"We are not quite so old as you imply, Dorian," Solas said, raising an eyebrow. "And as to your point, you might be surprised to learn this is not an entirely uncommon occurrence for me either."
Dorian guffawed. "And there you have it! Every new thing I learn just confirms what I've already told you. Absolutely smitten, as I said."
"I am not debating the point," he muttered. He grabbed the phone again and Dorian looked delighted.
"Going back for seconds?"
"A reply is warranted."
"Oh, I can only imagine," Dorian said, his eyes widening as if he were scandalized by the idea. He was obviously not.
As Solas typed his response, he realized he'd forgotten that being separated from Ellana did have at least this one enjoyable side benefit.
Solas: Dinner was diverting. How unfortunate that I will have to wait until tomorrow to eat such a tempting dessert.
Solas made the mistake of continuing to text with Ellana while he was on the train back to Lydes, which caused the half-hour ride to feel at least twice as long. By the time he made it back to the house, after jogging down darkened streets in his suit, she'd stopped replying. She had likely dozed off with her phone beside her. He realized with some dismay that he should not send anything else and risk waking her - she would have an early morning to catch the first train back from Denerim.
He paced the kitchen, annoyed Parchment (who clearly resented him for not being asleep in his bed), considered taking a cold shower, and then retreated to the bedroom instead. The thin treatise on cow motifs in Marcher art sat expectantly on the top of the pile of books on his nightstand, but after an hour with its dry prose he found himself no less aware of Ellana's absence.
Solas forced himself to turn off the lights and found his bed suddenly enormous. He stumbled blearily to the sofa where he finally fell into a restless sleep.
Ellana thought Solas looked exhausted when he met her at the station, but it didn't dull the joy she saw on his face. They flew home and made up for lost time as soon as he closed the front door.
It felt like it had been a month since he'd last touched her (which was profoundly stupid - it had actually been a day). She grabbed his hands and dragged them beneath her shirt because what she wanted more than anything was to feel his skin on hers. He smirked as she ripped off his belt with more force than was necessary, then gasped against her hair when she had him free of his trousers a moment later.
In a few short minutes they were naked on his bed, Ellana on her stomach as he kissed his way between her shoulder blades, down her spine, then gripped her ass with both hands and made good on his promise from the night before.
When they were both thoroughly sated, she laid her head on his chest and he spun her hair into little spirals with his finger. He told her about the restaurant where he and Dorian had eaten, and she couldn't wait to visit it with him. She recounted her meetings, and he congratulated her with kisses when she told him about the prospect of an advance.
Later that afternoon, Ellana found Solas sitting at dining table staring intently at the Markham University website on his laptop. She stopped suddenly, struck by an odd instinct that this was precisely what he wanted her to do.
"What are you working on?" she asked, leaning on his shoulders.
"Nothing yet." He said it casually enough but she felt the tension in his back. "I have been periodically checking their open positions."
"Really?" Ellana surprised herself with how much she immediately disliked the idea.
"I am committed to Lydes for the next two semesters, but if I something becomes available, there is a chance I could be in Markham by next fall."
She leaned back against the table beside his laptop so she could see his face. He was entirely serious and, she thought, more than a little nervous.
"You want to leave Lydes? I thought you liked it here."
"It is a much shorter trip to Ostwick from Markham than from Lydes," he said, resting a hand on her knee.
Ostwick? she thought. Over the past few weeks, she'd barely spared a moment to consider her apartment - aside from the occasional guilt she felt about her dying houseplants. But surely he didn't expect her to go back there now?
She'd slept in the same bed for almost a full month. It had been strange at first, accustomed as she was to moving from city to city, one hotel room to the next. But now she loved waking up on her side of the bed every morning, knowing he would be there beside her. She knew his neighbors, and the local shop owners, and everyone who worked at the university labs. She had a favorite coffee cup. She'd filled her phone with pictures of a cat who, at best, tolerated her presence.
"But what about Parchment?" Ellana blurted out the first objection that came to her mind. "I know I read somewhere that cats have a hard time moving, and she's lived here her whole life, hasn't she?"
Solas frowned. "It is kind of you to worry about her, but I'm sure Parchment will adapt."
Ellana nodded too quickly, filled with some irrational sense that she was fighting for her life, while Solas pressed anxious circles into her leg with his thumb.
"I know Markham is a city you enjoy," he said, "and I thought -"
"If I wanted to live in Markham, I'd live in Markham."
It came out much harsher than she'd intended.
"I see," Solas said quietly.
She floundered, feeling like his wonderful house with all its bright windows and colorful paintings was collapsing down on her head. Some part of her mind was still rational enough to tell her he didn't want her to leave, but it was drowned out by the rest screaming that he was dismissing her in the politest way he could manage. She'd tried to be so careful - to only take up space where he had offered it - but maybe even that had been too presumptuous.
But the thought of going back now - of pulling her clothes out of his closet and his drawers, of hearing his voice through a phone rather than a room away, of waking up on her own more often than not - it was more than she could bear. She grabbed his hands, terrified by how the little lines in his brow had turned to deep creases.
The words spilled out before she could stop them.
"What I want is to live here. With you."
When he spoke again his voice was so delicate that it made her pulse flutter in her neck.
"You don't want to live in Orlais," he said carefully. "You have been quite clear on that point."
"Well." A nervous chuckle escaped her mouth. "I guess something changed my mind. Like maybe a a few weeks' worth of fresh croissants every morning."
Solas' lips turned upward as if he wanted to laugh with her, but wasn't yet sure if he should do so.
Just fucking say it, she thought, exasperated with herself and remembering what he'd asked of her the first night she spent in his house - to speak her mind, to be honest with him, and to occasionally drop the humor for just long enough to squeeze out the truth.
"Or maybe it wasn't the croissants at all," she said, placing a hand on his cheek.
Close enough, Ellana thought as she was rewarded with the lovely sound of his laughter and the feel of his hands on her waist as he pulled her down into his lap. The breath he had been holding ghosted across her lips when he finally exhaled and then caught her in a kiss.
"You nearly managed it without joking," he said with that annoying trick he had of following her thoughts.
"'Nearly' is probably too generous," she admitted. "But you'll just have to get used to it. We're roommates now."
"Roommates?" Solas arched an eyebrow. "How quickly I've been demoted."
"Honestly, I'm shocked you're letting me stay, given Parchment's feelings about me." Ellana glanced over her shoulder at the cat, who was sitting by the back door with what she interpreted as a distinctly judgmental expression.
"Parchment will adapt, as I said." He brushed her hair behind her ear and turned her gaze back to his. "This is your home as much as mine. It was incomplete without you here."
She hadn't quite allowed herself to see it before now. But as she remembered how relieved she'd felt to step through the door again after only a day away, as she considered how he'd rearranged his kitchen cabinets so everything she needed was now on shelves she could reach, as she thought of the life he'd made here and how easy it had been to become a part of it, she knew it was true.