Fandom: Dragon Age
Rating: G
Pairing: Solas x Sarya Lavellan
Word Count: 475
(why yes I do have some dragon age up my sleeve)
Good Enough
There’s something about her gaze as the firelight reflects in her pupils. Both here and in the ether she exists, lost to the world for the empire she’s built in her head. It seems rude to ask to be let in.
“Inquisitor?” Half beat of a pause and then once more, a little louder. “Inquisitor?”
He lets out a sigh because it seems far worse to just storm the keep.
“Inquisitor!” Sarya snaps to attention, head craning to gaze up at the Seeker.
“Yeah? Something the matter?”
She hasn’t noticed him staring, not that he should want her to notice but he finds himself wanting anyway. Wanting, willing and waiting for her to notice him.
Seeker Cassandra hands over a bowl of stew. “Eat. We must keep our strength up.”
Sarya’s hands take the bowl and she brings the edge of it to her lips while the Seeker eyes her and nods, nudging her to sip. One loud slurp and the Seeker is satisfied, leaving Sarya be. The bowl finds rest on the ground and Sarya catches him then and there’s a hint of a smile. Hand to the dirt, she smooths a space for him and he knows his calling.
“They want too much,” she says while the flames dance in her pupils.
Does she read minds? His want is no different.
“What of you, Solas?”
He swallows, shudders an involuntary shiver under the potential of vulnerability.
“What do I want?”
“Yes, what do you want from me?”
Everything. All of you. To lay you out beneath the stars and rule the empire you’ve built so carefully inside your mind. To be wanted in every way by you in return.
“Nothing,” he says, a flat out lie. The only one to be held against him.
There’s the hint of a chuckle. “If only we could all be so good as you.”
“I—am not good,” he says, this time it’s not just a thought but voiced aloud, interspersed between the crackle of wood made ash.
“Good enough,” she tells him then fits her hand into his. She brings his hand up to her lips and kisses his knuckle.
“Then I take back what I said,” he tells her. “I want to be good enough. For you.”
“No, no, that still counts—what you said before. You want nothing from me. But for me. It’s nice.” She kisses his cheek and leans into his shoulder.
But she doesn't realize that it is what he wants from her. He wants her to always see him that way. Good enough. When he is the worst of everyone. That he would malign the good that she truly is so that she could understand his goodness. If such a thing for him even exists anymore.
He wants everything of her. And he will take it. She just doesn’t know it yet.
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