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“- fucking idiot! How many times did I say? But nooo. It’s always ‘perfect, precious, Yara’ who shits gold and - OH!”
Ariane stops her rant when she sees Solas standing silently in the doorway; doing his best to hide the smirk creeping across his face. She narrows her eyes at him, that door had been locked, and crosses her arms when he does nothing but enter the room and calmly lock the door behind him once again.
“Good evening Ariane.”
“Solas.” She nods at him then watches him watch her long enough that the air thickens and the silence becomes uncomfortable. Ariane sighs and slumps onto a nearby bench; he’s far too composed to ever capitulate first. “How much did you hear?”
“Enough to know your familial bond may not be quite as… inured as the Inquisitor often proclaims.” Despite the numerous pieces of discarded furniture scattered about, he’s still not sat down and the way he moves as he paces the small space sets something off in the back of her head. Not danger; they’ve spent enough time traveling and working together for her to know he wouldn’t hurt her. But there’s an awareness of him, of the presence he exudes, she hadn’t felt before.
Ariane purposefully shifts her hips and scratches lightly at the bench, testing him, and sees when he spots her movements. She watches him hesitate, still waiting for her answer, but the presence she’d felt fades back when he slumps his shoulders and brings his hands from behind his back. Now she’s the one fighting to keep the smirk off her face.
“Don’t get me wrong,” her resolute tone interrupts their study of each other, “I’ll protect her until the world ends… possibly even after; depending on if I’m alive. But I still look forward to the day that’s no longer my responsibility.”
Solas graces her with a skeptical look of consideration. “Does she truly require such protection? Her actions as leader and magical proficiency would suggest otherwise.”
Ire floods her like a tsunami crashing to shore, her limbs heat, her face turns red, and she leaps purposefully to her feet. If he’d been searching for a way to set her off he’d found it.
“Do you have any idea what her great plan for Halamshiral was? She was going to tell the political leaders of a triangular civil war about one of them possibly dying and that they all needed to just get along.” Her voice is a hiss of rage stronger than any demon they’d come across. “I found the material to use against all three of those assholes! I am the one who cornered each. and. every. one of them. I blackmailed them into agreeing when Yara put forth her absolutely moronic solution or else!”
She’s panting, shaking, and a strange green tinge has crept into her peripheral vision, but she can’t stop. Something inside won’t let her. “And I am the one who handed Commander Cullen the very recently revised plan for Adamant! This shit is exactly what I’ve been doing my whole. damn. life! So don’t tell me -”
Her breaths are barely keeping up with the emotions heating her blood and the green tinge that had begun taking over her vision suddenly explodes outwards. A dragon, seemingly made of veilfire, bursts from her chest into the room at speed. Ariane stares in awe as the creature lets out a jarring roar and flaps powerfully toward the high ceiling of the tower; its great wings scorching the stone walls where they clash. The dragon restlessly circles the perimeter, searching for danger, as she’s unable to do anything but watch.
Another roar vibrates through the room and Ariane vaguely sees Solas’ stance turn calculating, as if readying for battle, but there’s no need to fight in such tight quarters; they’d both surely die. Before she understands what she’s doing she reaches one hand out to the dragon. Still shaking, she retreats into herself and feels for the infinitesimal thread of her magic; brings it to the surface and allows the matching vibrations to flow from her fingertips. The instant her magic reaches the dragon it’s flaming face turns to her and, with terrifying grace, it pivots. Plunging from the air to dive at her at breakneck pace the dragon opens it’s mouth, deadly fangs exposed, and Ariane hears a brief shout before she’s consumed. The dragon disappears with another green flash and she falls, unharmed, to sit back on the bench with a thump.
Her vision swims a bit and strawberry blonde hair curtains around her as she stares at the ground, digging her fingers into the worn wood of her seat, trying to still the dizziness. Her heart is only beginning to calm when she sees a pair of feet in tan wraps come into focus in front of her. Solas’ feet are clean and toenails well cared for, a fact that makes her giggle, until she forces herself to follow the lines of his body upwards to meet his quizzical violet gaze.
“Your sister said you had very little magical talent.” He says nothing else, but his brow is furrowed and his hands still glow with reserved magic.
“Half sister.” Ariane corrects automatically as she nods; that sounds exactly like Yara. “I can’t explain everything. And…” after what just happened she can’t blame him for wanting to understand but, “you can sit down if you want.” She doesn’t mean to snap except he’s not sat since entering the room and it’s really beginning to annoy her.
They regard each other again, each one staring unabashedly at the other long enough that her eyes start to burn, but he finally nods at and sits on the bench beside her. The visible magic in his hands fades away and she glances up to see him patiently waiting for her to begin.
Turning to face him Ariane folds one leg up to rest on the bench and lets the other dangle to the floor. With a deep breath she tucks her hair behind her ear and tries to explain. “My magic’s always been… different? I guess that’s the best way to put it.” She shrugs and Solas nods at her to continue, “You know how different spells are different colors? Mine’s always green; always. I can heal little things pretty well but nothing big, feel magical vibrations, sense intentions, even light a fire if I concentrate hard enough; that sort of stuff. But… since the breach? It’s changed. I’m stronger. Not that I’m going to tell Yara that.”
Solas, mirroring her posture, is practically vibrating with questions but he seems to compose himself and his voice gives nothing away when he speaks. “You say you’re stronger. May I ask what you mean?”
She giggles at him again. After all the hours they’d spent researching together, postulating theories, listening to him latch onto the most esoteric fragmented line, or verbally sparring with him; that hadn’t been the question she imagined him starting with. Nevertheless, she turns her focus inwards and silently summons a giant stone fist to hover briefly at her shoulder before sending it smashing into a pile of junk stashed across the room. The crash of shattered wood and metal rings out and suddenly all she wants is to show off. Thinking little of it Ariane waves her fingers and a splash of green slams a heavy wooden dresser to the floor. Another gesture and the green fire reappears in her palm; taking the shape of a tiny nug. She laughs, bright and clear, as the fiery little creature scurries up her arm and across her shoulders to rest in her other hand. She holds the little nug out to Solas with a smile and lets him examine it, even touch the flames, before she dismisses it back to wherever it came from.
“I’ve never summoned fire animals before now. Didn't even know I could. It’s going to be bittersweet when Yara finally closes the breach.” She murmurs into her lap; partly to herself. “I know it needs to be done but I’m going to enjoy this while I can.”
Looking back up, Solas’ expression is one she can’t quite identify. Even her idle magic can’t hint at more than a bit of curiosity. “What?”
“I have met precious few in this world who find genuine joy in magic for it’s own sake as you do. It’s a welcome change.” He smiles at her and leans in to grab her hands. “Would you accompany me tomorrow? To the lake? We can explore your new abilities together and you can tell me more of your life’s accomplishments outside of your sis - half sister’s, shadow.”
The excitement and wonder in his voice brings out a playfulness she’s not yet seen from him. The difference between this and his usual stoic comportment is enchanting. Not as stark as night and day but gentler; like watching the sunlight shift from the calm pre-dawn purples to the vibrant oranges and yellows of a new day.
Ariane nods, “ok, that sounds fu -”
His surprise kiss makes her squeak and tense and, after everything else that’s already happened, he withdraws faster than she can recover.
“My apologies,” Solas’ voice is low, warm with affection and tinged with a bit of sadness she’s not about to let continue, “I should not have -”
Ariane frees her hands from his grip to cradle his sharp jaw and pull him in. Their second kiss is much better. His hands wrap around her waist and pull her close as he leans forward, the tip of his tongue flicking against her lips; asking entrance to the warmth of her mouth and rushing forward to tangle with her own when she complies.
Longing, joy, pleasure, even a hint of his lingering sadness, all wash over her as she moves with him to straddle his lap and slides her hands over his jaw to stroke her thumbs across his ears in a teasing sweep. She could happily end her night this way; but it’s not to be when a moment later Solas pulls away and, hands on her hips, moves her to sit beside him once again.
“As it appears to be in most things; you are much better at that than your sister.”
A surge of satisfaction rushes her at the breathless quality of his voice before his words register and Ariane squinches up her face at the idea that he knows how Yara kisses.
“Please tell me you’re not trying to get a matching pair. Because that’s both disgusting and very much never going to happen given -” she waves a hand indicating her entire appearance. Her half-sister is the epitome of elven beauty in her petite lithe form, white blonde hair, bright eyes, and showy magic; versus Ariane’s taller, sturdier form, grey eyes, and usually distinct lack of magical prowess.
“Ah,” he looks away from her for a moment and her suspicion grows, “she did take me by surprise at one time. I refused. I believe she has since set her sights upon our dutiful commander.”
Ariane scoffs and rolls her eyes. Yara always did go for the big, strapping, human boys when she could find one that wasn’t drowning elven misanthropy.
“But, should you still hold any concerns, no. I harbor no desire for anyone outside of yourself.”
Solas still hasn’t looked at her and there’s an irksome little voice at the back of her head that she can’t ignore. Ariane’s no stranger to rejection and she’s never let herself linger where she’s not wanted. Steeling herself she refuses to let her voice waver for her next question.
“Do you regret it?”
Finally, Solas turns to meet her gaze and grabs her hand once again. “It was impulsive, and ill-considered, I should not have - “
Ariane squeezes his hand in return and leans into his space. “That’s not a ‘yes’.” She whispers to him feeling a spark of hope that perhaps something good might be in her future.
“It has… been a long time. I am uncertain this is the best idea. It… could lead to trouble. If I could take a little time to think?” His hesitant uncertainty makes Ariane pull back to look him in the eye once again.
There’s no real regret in his gaze and he’s leaning towards her instead of away so she hums in agreement. She’ll give him time; but she’s going to weigh the odds in her favor however he’ll allow. “Take all the time you need. But tomorrow,” she purrs at him, “when we’re on that romantic walk to the lake, maybe you’ll let me talk you into a few other… considerations.”
He chuckles at her but nods and stands, holding out a hand to help her up from the bench; which she takes. Their time in this room coming to a distinct close.
“I am willing to listen to whatever you wish to discuss. For tonight I will simply wish you pleasant dreams.” Solas kisses the back of her hand and walks to unlock the door he’d come through what feels like ages ago.
“Hey,” she suddenly calls to him as he opens it to leave, “how is it that no one came running with all that noise before?”
Another of his chuckles reaches her ears and the mischief in his eyes causes the violet of them to sparkle sharper than ever. “I warded the room of course. Good night, Ariane.”
She hears the lock click back into place after the door closes and huffs, crossing her arms over her chest, before a smile breaks over her face. “Tricky bastard.”