#thar be SMUT here laddies!

[lillotte17]

Storm Chasers

Oh lord, this was a prompt from...4-5 YEARS ago??? I have no idea where the ask is anymore, but I believe it was “The sound of thunder.”

~

Solas awoke to the rumbling of distant thunder and the discovery that the bedroll beside him had been vacated. After an instant of blind groggy panic, he sensed the familiar magic of the Inquisitor’s mark coming from somewhere nearby. A heavy sigh of relief mixed with mild exasperation slid from him as he sat up and began rummaging around for his clothes.

The air in the Frostback Basin was cool and cloying, with a weighty dampness that seemed to seep into his very bones. Between the layers of thick furs and the warmth of his lover’s arms, Solas had been perfectly comfortable sleeping in just his breeches, but he certainly was not about to stroll around the camp that way.

After a few moments of fruitless searching, he heaved a defeated groan. Aili must have walked off with his sweater. Again.

He pulled on a lighter linen tunic from is pack instead, wrapping one of the still-warm blankets from their bed about his shoulders before he exited the tent, completely barefoot and hoping she had not wandered too far.

Even in the dead of night, the forest was a marvel. Pockets of strange colors turned into something ghostly when illuminated by cool glow of the veilfire torches set around the camp and along the twisting pathways on the forest floor. A weak drizzle of rainfall fractured their light into an ethereal haze, deepening the long black shadows of the massive trees until they looked like holes in the skin of the world. It was all at once beautiful and haunting.

Solas pulled the blanket up over his head to serve as a makeshift hood as he searched their treetop campsite for any signs of Aili. He shivered slightly as the rain began to soak through his clothing, causing the cream-colored linen to stick to his skin. He vaguely hoped that Aili had at least had the good sense to pull on more than his sweater before wandering outside in this weather.

The sound of quiet humming came drifting to him through the gentle hiss of falling water like the memory of a dream.

Sure enough, Aili was sitting out on one of the larger tree limbs, the ones big enough to pass for pathways in their own right, clad in nothing but his sweater and a worn pair of leggings, her bare feet swinging back and forth in time with her song. Her damp hair hung about her shoulders in loose ringlets, the moonlight igniting it into a gleaming halo around her face, edging her features in silver. Her eyes burned with a fire of their own, two violet coals that found him in the darkness long before he had made a noise that a human could have heard.

“Ma sa’lath,” she greeted him quietly.

“Vhenan,” he replied in kind as he made his way out onto the branch. He sat down beside her in the unpleasantly wet moss that had grown over the wood, wrapping one arm around her shoulders to share the relative shelter of the blanket. “What are you doing out here in the middle of the night?”

“Humming,” she said evasively, her eyes flitting away from him to look back out into the trees. He regarded her silently, a sharply arched brow paired with a thin suspicious frown informing her that he was by no means satisfied with her answer.

“I was just thinking, Solas, honestly,” she amended with a tired-sounding sigh.

“And these thoughts could not be processed adequately someplace warm and dry?” He queried.

“It’s just rain,” she huffed at him, rolling her eyes. “It isn’t as though I’m going to melt if I get a bit wet. Besides, I needed the fresh air.”

There was another rumble of thunder, louder than the last, and the rain was decidedly heavier than when he had left their tent.

“It will be storming soon enough,” he said, getting to his feet and offering her a hand to do the same.

 “Do you think it might have been something like this?” She asked softly, still staring out at the forest, ignoring his outstretched hand. “The Dales? …Halamshiral?”

Solas blinked at her in mild astonishment before taking a moment to consider, gazing out into the woods once more. He saw the distant flickering lights of other Inquisition campsites in the trees as well as along the riverbank and fires from other smaller camps which likely belonged to groups of wandering Avaar. The crumbling ruins of elves and humans alike, molded into new purpose. The towering trees standing watch like gigantic sentinels. The tenuous state of the Veil and the lingering sense of older magics.

“Perhaps,” Solas said gently, sensing her melancholy, “I imagine that many of the Dalish settlements strongly resembled human villages from the areas of Thedas their inhabitants originated from. The more Elvhen elements likely did not appear until much later.”

“See that in the Fade, did you?” Aili asked with a wry smile, an unmistakable touch of bitterness coloring her tone.

“I apologize if my knowledge offends you, Inquisitor,” he replied with an unexpected edge of his own, and perhaps a not so subtle trace of hurt.

“I’m sorry,” Aili said hastily, reaching out for his hand and bringing it to her cheek, nuzzling it in apology. She heaved a defeated sigh. “You come by all this information so effortlessly, and me and my people just seem to be perpetually fumbling in the dark, grasping at straws and trying to weave them into a tapestry of where we came from. …but there are still so many holes. Ameridan was one of ours, and we didn’t even know. It wasn’t just the humans who erased him, we forgot. How could that happen?”

“Seeking knowledge in the Fade is hardly effortless,” Solas reminded her, trailing his fingers along her cheek. “And, considering the violent end the Orlesians wrought upon the Elvhen kingdom, it is not wholly surprising that they would spurn someone who had once been close with the Emperor whose son destroyed their homeland.”

“But he was a hero!” Aili protested ardently. “An elf and a mage! And before I joined the Inquisition, I’d never even heard his name. It isn’t right.”

“Such is the way of history, Vhenan,” he said heavily.

“And…the same thing will happen to me?”

Solas took a moment to study her face, her noticeably elven features, the exotic shade of her eyes, the vallaslin swirling across her brow and chin. He thought of Ameridan, and Shartan, their forgotten stories and hacked-off ears. And that wasn’t even that long ago, by his standards. He thought of Elvhenan, their words and stories and traditions. All gone. All lost. His people were little more than ghosts, the pale memories of a dream. If he wanted a reminder that the steady march of time changed people’s perceptions, he need only look into a mirror. It was unlikely that history would be any kinder to her than it had been to him.

“It is…a distinct possibility,” he admitted heavily.  

Aili's expression soured further.

"I don't care about renown," she muttered, "I don't care about getting invited to fancy parties, or offered expensive gifts as signs of friendship from people I've never even met. I don't care about nobles and games and political power. I don't care about any of that. I never did."

She pulled in a deep shaky breath.

"But…if this is something I have to do… If the 'Inquisitor' is who I have to be, then I want to be seen as what I am. I want people to remember where I came from. I know it would be naïve to think they'd get everything right, but to know my home and my race…" she gave him a worried glance, "Is that really too impossible to hope for?"

"It is rare enough for someone who knows us to see us as we truly are," Solas replied apologetically, "Facts become stories. Lines blur, words change with each retelling, shifting things into whatever the listeners need to hear. It is the way real people with flaws and failings are honed into heroes. And villains. Many people who have met you will speak of you as you are, but there are plenty of those who already do not approve of the idea that Andraste's chosen might be an elf. A Dalish elf, of all things. The Chantry has always told them that your people are despised by Maker, after all."

"He's not too crazy about mages either," Aili grumbled, "I have been reminded several times by numerous people that I am basically unpalatable on every possible front."

"Not to me," Solas told her with a faint smile, "I am sorry to be incapable of offering much in the way of comfort on this particular topic, however. I do not wish to lie to you."

"I wouldn't ask you to," Aili sighed, though her melancholy seemed to have abated somewhat. She shook her head slightly, as if to shake away the remnants of her solemnity, scattering raindrops in the process, and finally rose to her feet.

She took both of his hands in hers, smiling up at him with a distinct playfulness.

"So, if I am to be the new Ameridan, does that make you my Telana?" she wondered, "She was an elvhen Dreamer, just as you are. You must admit, there are an astounding amount of parallels. What strange fortunes the Creators weave for us all." 

 "A morbid thought indeed, considering their fates," Solas hummed. "I certainly hope we fare better than they did."

"It wouldn't take much," Aili noted dryly. "Although, I admit, I have a hard time picturing you allowing yourself to bleed out just so you could try and find me in the Fade. You are far too practical."

She gave his fingers a squeeze. Teasing.

"Oh?" Solas returned lightly, "I think you might be surprised. You are much harder to do without than you imagine."

“Sweet talker,” Aili grinned, stepping into his arms and shivering a little from the cool dampness of their clothing. “But regardless of how similar we might seem to the former Inquisitor and his paramour, we already have a decided advantage over them.”

“Is that so?” Solas asked softly, smiling down at her in turn.

“It is,” she insisted, going up on her tiptoes to plant a light kiss on his chin, “Because I have already decided that our story is going to have a happy ending.”

A few heartbeats of silence passed between them; with nothing to be heard but the hiss of rain and the sound of approaching thunder. It would be storming in earnest in a few minutes. The night painted strange shadows across her lover’s face, and Aili began to feel the faintest prickle of doubt low in her gut.

“Solas?”

“Forgive me,” he answered a moment later, shaking his head slightly as though to rid himself of his thoughts, “I fear my mind slips too easily toward melancholy. Thinking only on the ways something precious might be lost robs us of the pleasures of the present. It does no good to dwell on such things.”

“It’s alright,” Aili said, reaching up to softly touch his cheek, “With a hole in the sky and some crazy darkspawn Magister on the loose, I can see why you might be having problems being optimistic about the future.”

“I am afraid that I am not an overly optimistic person, even if the current factors were removed from the equation,” he admitted ruefully. He allowed himself to lean into her touch, closing his eyes briefly and letting out a long breath. “I suppose that is something else I should work on. I would like…to look towards the days ahead and see the same kinds of possibilities that you do.”

“Well, wanting those possibilities is the first step, don’t you think?” she asked, a smile returning to her face, “If this were the Fade, we could simply will such a future into existence.”

"Unfortunately, such blatant displays of power tend to attract the attention of demons," Solas replied with a faint smirk. 

 Aili heaved an exaggerated sigh, but her eyes were bright with amusement.

"You know, I am beginning to think that Bull might have a fair point about them," her smile twitched up into a smirk, "They always seem to ruin the best dreams."

"Not all of them," he answered in kind, his face dipping perilously close to her own, "Once, not so long ago, I dreamt of Haven as it had been before Corypheus and his army came. The sky was bright and clear, and the snow was crisp and cool against my skin. I met a spirit who was seeking knowledge, and the truth of their purpose and the earnestness of their resolve shone with such a fierce intensity that for one moment I thought it might have blinded me. I dared not look away, however, for such spirits are rare indeed, and I feared that if I averted my gaze, even for an instant, I might turn back and find that it had gone."

He kissed her then, deep and soft and warm. Not as desperate or hurried as he had during the dream of Haven, but still somehow just as hungry. Wrapping her up in his arms and pulling her close until even the raindrops had a hard time finding the space to fall between them.

 When he finally pulled back enough to let her breathe, Aili was rosy-cheeked and slightly rumpled. Her eyes shone up at him out of the darkness like a pair of gemstones, her smile wide and knowing. Any trace of worry momentarily banished by the sheer force of her affections.

"Am I really so much like a spirit?" she wondered jokingly, "Or have you just been getting romantic tips from Varric again? Should I see if Cole can teach me his trick of disappearing from people's minds? I can think of a few situations where that would be incredibly useful. Most of them involve dodging Orlesian nobles and their inane gossip."

Solas snorted.

"If I was in need of romantic guidance, I am afraid Master Tethras would not be anywhere near my first choice of solicitor," he informed her with a low chuckle, "As for the other questions, I do believe that you share more similarities with Cole than you might suspect. They are…not easy to explain in simple terms, however. But bright and shining as you are, your own concept of yourself is attached to your physical form, so I fear you would have a difficult time disappearing from view."

"That sounds an awful lot like a challenge to me," she laughed, leaning back into him, mischievous intent written clearly into her expression.

"Hardly," Solas huffed with a particular mix of exasperated fondness that Aili always seemed to inspire. His arms tightened on her after a moment, a touch of seriousness seeping back into his voice. "Besides which, I would greatly prefer that you did not disappear from view."

“Ah, well, if that’s really what you want,” she grinned, cupping his face to guide him down towards her mouth. She stopped just shy of kissing him, eyes as bright as lodestars cutting through the haze of night and rain. She nearly did look like a spirit.

“I supposed you’d better catch me, then.”

That was all the warning she afforded him before her form flashed with the blue-white glow of magic, and she fade-stepped a few dozen feet away onto another enormous tree limb. Rift magic was not Aili’s area of expertise, and her aim was…less than precise. She wobbled slightly on the branch, and Solas called out to her in wordless distress, hurriedly employing the same technique she had used to chase after her.

He had barely closed his hand around her forearm before she shifted away again, leaving a nothing but a hazy blue outline in her wake and laughing all the while.

“You’ll have to do better than that, Solas!” Aili called back to him.

“Vhenan, it is raining!” Solas complained.

A great boom of thunder and a blinding crackle of lightning chased after the sound of his voice.

“It’s not raining, it’s storming!” Aili corrected him blithely, still popping in and out of view across the canopy of trees surrounding the campsite. “But you can go back inside the tent if you’re not having any fun!”  

“Why are you always doing things like this?” he asked with a sharp exhale of breath, “We both know you are going to catch cold and spend the next three days sneezing on me.”

“You like it!” Aili giggled, fade-stepping close enough to make him lunge for her and slipping away again before he could grab hold. “It keeps you on your toes. It’s good for you.”

“And,” she continued from a far-off tree limb, “If you are really so concerned about me getting sick, maybe you should hurry up and take me someplace warm before the chill sets in.”

Solas sighed again, resigned to the fact that in order for either of them to get back to bed in the near future, he was going to have to play along with her. As usual.

“Then you should ready yourself, Inquisitor,” he said as the magic he deftly pulled from the Fade washed him in its pale blue light. Aili paused her own furtive dance just long enough to grin back at him, brighter than a flash of lightning. And then the game was on.

Her mastery of the spell was less than perfect, but what she lacked in aptitude, she made up for with unbridled enthusiasm. He had more experience, but she was unpredictable, doubling back and pushing the limits of how far the magic would carry her. What had begun with unrepentant teasing on her end, and a prickle of aggravation on his, soon became a buoyant chase rife with genuine merriment that not even Solas could hold himself back from. In this moment, they were light and free and fearless. Their mingled laughter bubbled over the sounds of the storm, bare toes slipping on wet moss and leaves as the two of them weaved through the darkness of the canopy like a pair of fireflies. Skin luminous with magic and the fierce joy of living. The wonder of loving. Dazzling as the lightning torn sky, and twice as fleeting.

It nearly felt like a dream of the days before. When there was no Veil. No Blight. And his name was not quite so synonymous with villainy.

He almost did not want it to end.   

It did, of course, as all things must. Aili’s foot slipped. Solas materialized behind her a half second later, pulling her to his chest before she began to fall in earnest. She spun in his embrace, flung her arms about his neck, and kissed him like she was drowning. She was freezing cold and sopping wet, and it was absolutely glorious.

He was less disappointed with this ending than anticipated.

“Vhenan,” he murmured against her lips as Aili seemed to do her level best to pull the very air from his lungs, “I am not opposed to continuing- Mmph! -continuing this, but perhaps we should return to our tent first?”

“Too far,” Aili informed him breathlessly, her thin icy fingers working their way up the back of his linen shirt, making him hiss at the cold, “Much too far.”

Solas chuckled despite himself, doing his best to guide her farther away from the edge of the branch they had landed on and back toward the relative safety of the tree’s trunk. Aili did not make it easy, clinging to him like a lamprey and doing everything in her power to wriggle her way beneath his clothing, even while continuing to kiss him senseless. Their footsteps were awkward and bumbling in the semidarkness, tripping and sliding along in a highly undignified manner, but it was hard to care when it was just the two of them. Both still riding high on the thrill of their pretend hunt, eager to be close and touching. Here, in the shelter of the trees and the cover of night, there was nothing but the sounds of the storm beyond the veil of leaves, the rain singing out like a lover’s sigh, and the thunder mimicking their racing heartbeats.

It felt almost like a shrine; ethereal and divine. It smelled crisp and fresh as water, and newly churned earth. A pair of lovers painted with the sapphire shades of midnight sifting through the leaves. A place of devotion and worship meant solely for them.

 Aili’s skin was still cold, but everything between them was almost unbearably warm. She fell back against the moss-covered wood of the tree’s trunk with a dull thud, tugging him after her. He cupped her face between his hands as he kissed her, soft and desperate. The dripping locks of her hair spilling over his fingers like liquid silver. She laughed into his mouth as he pressed himself flush against her, feeling the firmness of his apparent desire caught between them.

“I see you have finally run out of objections,” she noted, utterly delighted.

“I am certain I could locate a few more, if I tried,” Solas quipped, but his tone was deep and melting, his mouth blazing a warm trail of lingering nips and kisses along the column of her throat. His threat hardly seemed sincere. The sound he made when she unlaced his breeches and reached for him seemed honest enough, however.

“Probably,” she hummed, running her fingers over him with firm practiced movements, “But as the Inquisitor, my schedule is very busy, you know. I’m afraid I currently have my hands full dealing with one of my most trusted advisors, so, unfortunately, your objections will have to wait.”

“Would you prefer it if I submitted them to you in writing, instead?” he wondered, pausing just long enough to suck a dark bruise just below her ear, and tugging her leggings down over her hips.

“Absolutely not,” Aili hissed, scraping her teeth across the place where his collar bones peeked out from beneath the damp fabric of his shirt, “I enjoy the sound of your voice, even when you are complaining. Everything you have to tell me should be done face to face, when possible.”

Her skin was slick with rain, and when he slipped his fingers into her, Solas found that she was already slick there, too. Her grip tightened on him and she gasped, rocking her hips against his hand as he groaned into her hair. Struggling to stay upright.

“And you would have me, even here?” Solas asked softly, his voice thick with want and catching just a bit with an air of wonder.

“Geography hardly has anything to do with it,” Aili snorted, making a brave attempt to somehow keep touching him while also wriggling the rest of the way out of her pants. When she at last got them down to her claves, she raised a knee and Solas obligingly pulled them the rest of the way off over her leg, leaving her free to hitch it up over his hip. He leaned his full weight into her as he continued to thrust into her touch, moving to grip her thigh and hold her to him, keeping her close enough to count the damp lashes around her bright eyes. She hummed in approval, biting at his lower lip, egging him on. “You see me as I truly am, and I have it on good authority that that makes you a precious commodity.”

“Precious, am I?” he said it with a laugh, but there was a softness in his eyes.

“Unique in all the world,” she insisted confidently, “Which means you should be cherished at every available opportunity.”

He crooked his fingers as he moved them inside of her, and she moaned loud enough to echo through the trees, despite the storm around them.

“As should you, my heart,” he told her, his lips pulled up into a self-satisfied grin. 

“Then I suggest we talk less, and cherish more,” Aili rasped out, taking his face in both of her hands and kissing him savagely. Solas met her fervor with equal passion, but not so much that he surrendered his entire mind to it, though it was sorely tempting. One of them had to make sure they did not fall out of the tree, after all.

He grasped her other thigh, lifting her up as she hooked her legs around his waist, her pants still dangling from one ankle. His back was still chilled, exposed to scattered gusts of wind and sprays of rainfall from the leaves above them, but every place their bodies met was nearly burning. Even their breaths mingled together in little visible puffs of warmth that the storm could not subdue.

She moved her hands to his shoulders, digging her fingers into the wet linen with enough force to tear. He rolled his hips against her a few times, trying to find the proper angle to slide home. The sweater she had stolen from him had slipped back down when he had moved his hands away, blocking him from her. Solas nearly let out a curse.

“Ma ghilana,” he breathed against her ear instead, deep and hoarse and close to begging.

Aili seemed past the point of being capable of speech, her head bobbed once in understanding before she turned her face to kiss him again. Her left arm snaked its way about his neck, anchoring, while the other reach down between them, scrabbling at the sodden cloth still sticking to their skin, and doing her best to guide him to the place she wanted him most.

When he felt the silken heat of her against the tip of his cock, Solas paused. He knew Aili did not mind a bit of roughness, but he had his limits. Their position was precarious, and she was not as prepared for him as she could be. He could tell she wanted this, and he would not deny her, but he would not hurt her either, so he took a moment to breathe.

 He entered her in a single smooth slow stroke. Aili gasped into his mouth, gripping him fiercely and attempting to drag him impossibly closer. He kept his cool, though, holding them both as still and steady as possible until he was certain they were not about to slip, and he knew without a doubt that she was ready for more.

He could feel their hearts hammering in tandem, frantic and heady as the chase that had brought them here.

“Move,” Aili demanded after a few moments, rocking herself into him as best she could and biting at his lips again.

Solas moved.

His hips snapped, and his fingers gripped tight enough to bruise. His face dropped to the crook of her neck, and he filled his lungs with the heathery smell of her every time he drew breath. It was grounding, and marvelous, and real. More than any dream he could have conjured.

Aili fought to give as good as she got. Her range of movement was limited, but she pressed herself into him with everything she had. Meeting him at every thrust. She mapped him with her hands, raking her fingernails across his shoulder blades and digging into the muscles of his biceps. She sunk her teeth into the soft meat of his earlobe, and was treated to a low rumbling moan.

It felt as though she had poured liquid fire into his ear. It burned a path from his head straight down to the pit of hist stomach, setting him alight like a spark amidst tinder. He nearly came right then.

“Aili,” he panted, and this time he truly was pleading, although he couldn’t say for what. She clenched around him, and his rhythm stuttered, nearly sending him to his knees. But he would not let it end this way. He would not take his pleasure first.

Solas hefted her higher up the tree, slightly changing the angle of her hips, and the next time he drove into her, he was rewarded with a high breathless keen of ecstasy. Her back bowed, and her head tipped back, mouth moving in a silent litany as she crested the wave of her climax. She slumped into him afterwards, shuddering and boneless, and still trying to kiss him. He was so close to his own end that his magic felt like it was simmering beneath his skin, longing for the same release that he did.

Aili made a soft sound of not-quite discomfort, and he stilled.

“Just a little tender,” she whispered tiredly, guiding his lips back to hers, “Keep going.”

Solas did as he was bidden, keeping the angle she preferred, but slowing his tempo. The storm was finally beginning to recede, and his fervor seemed to ebb with it, turning more towards savoring. She was warm in his arms now, the little hitched breaths and contented sighs slipping past her lips blending perfectly with the gentle hiss of rainfall the surrounded them.  

He pressed another kiss into the curve of her neck. Admiring the strong steady beating of her heart beneath his lips. She called his name softly, and he came undone. It hit him unexpectedly hard, a bright burst of light behind his eyes as his whole body quaked with the force of it. Gasping for air and suddenly almost giddy. The dizzying delight of letting go.

He carefully set her down, and there were a few awkward moments of rearranging stiff and somewhat bruised limbs. She slipped her arms around his waist to keep him close, and he leaned back into her, his nose buried in her hair and his lips resting against her forehead. They stood together in silence for a while, simply enjoying the quite sounds of the nighttime forest and the comfort of a lover’s touch.

“At least…” Aili began quietly, but then paused, as if suddenly unsure. Solas brushed his fingers across her cheek. She leaned into him and sighed, finding her resolve. “I was thinking that… Even if no one else remembers me as I am, at least I would know that you do. You’ve never put me up on some pedestal. You know that I am Dalish, and an elf, and a mage. You know that I try with all my heart to make choices that are fair and benefit as many people as I can, but I make mistakes. Big ones, sometimes. You know that I hate oysters, and I’m always tripping on things, and stealing desserts from the kitchen. You know that I’m silly enough to play tag in the rain at night.”

She peered up at him with open sincerity, her eyes flecked with the stars just beginning to peek through the canopy above them.

“And you know that I love you,” she continued, her fingers reaching up to touch his chin with a soft air of devotion. “You will remember that, won’t you?”

Solas kissed her. Tender and aching, like a fist closing around his speeding heart. He squeezed her hands, pressing his eyes shut against a faint pinprick of tears.

“Forever,” he promised.    

Aili beamed at him.

“Come on, we should probably head back to camp before they send out a search party,” she said, moving past him just enough to begin the process of pulling her leggings back on. “I…think your sweater might be in need of a wash, though.”

Solas laughed.

“Then I supposed we are fortunate that it is raining.”

#solavellan #solas x lavellan #solas #lavellan #Aili Lavellan #fic #citrus #thar be SMUT here laddies! #GOD this took forever #gonna have a glass of wine now #because I EARNED IT DARN IT