UTHENARA

By KSCrusaders (Sable Rhapsody on BSN)

Solas split off from them on the way back to the Dalish camp. Night was falling rapidly, and Clariel Lavellan had firmly overruled the idea of all four of them staying near the ancient elven burial grounds. At least Solas was reasonable about these things; he'd given way with good grace and said he'd meet back up with her, Varric, and Blackwall in the morning. They set up some bedrolls and tents outside the circle of aravels; while the Dalish were perfectly happy having Clariel there, they were wary enough of Varric and Blackwall to make things awkward.

"Seriously, though, these guys aren't bad," said Varric after dinner. "They didn't point swords and bows at us on sight. That's downright friendly. No offense, Inquisitor," he added hastily to Clariel.

Clariel didn't even look up from the arrow she was fletching. "None taken. Most of the Dalish treat everyone else with hostility, then have the gall to wonder why no one likes us."

"When I was growing up, there was a certain mystique to the Dalish whenever one of their clans came by our cities. The landships, the halla..." Blackwall set his plate aside, looking at the golden halla who was just barely visible next to one of the aravels. "I'd give a left nut to ride one of those."

Clariel laughed. "That's not necessary. I'll see if my clan is willing to send us one of our halla. It never occurred to me before now."

"You really think a halla would take a human rider?"

She thought about it for a moment. "You are kind and gentle with animals. You'll be fine if you can ride like we do. Bareback, no reins, no bridle."

"Ouch," said Blackwall with a cringe. "Maybe I'll keep that left nut after all."

The rest of the evening passed quickly; Varric and Clariel fletched arrows and bickered amiably over the best kinds of feathers to use, while Blackwall caught up on Varric's guard serial and pretended to ignore them. When the firelight started to fade, Clariel put her arrows carefully back into the quiver and pulled off her boots and armor.

"I still don't understand how you can sleep outside all the time," said Varric, making his way into his tent. "Sweet dreams, Inquisitor." Blackwall lingered outside a bit longer, looking at the halla grazing in the moonlight.

"They're not going to shoot you if you go over and say hi," said Clariel, amused.

"Not you, maybe. What would I call the guy who keeps the halla? To be polite?"

"Hahren."

"But...that's what you call Solas."

Clariel blinked at him. "It's a catch-all term of respect. Hahren means elder. In some contexts, mentor or teacher."

"Oh shit," said Blackwall. "I thought it was...uh..."

"A term of endearment?" She couldn't help but giggle as the Warden proceeded to look even more uncomfortable. "Go to sleep, my friend. We'll say hello to the halla in the morning."

"Fine, laugh at me for not being elfy," grumbled Blackwall. He got to his feet and went to his tent, leaving Clariel alone with the night and her thoughts. She rearranged her bedroll so the feet were closer to the coals, double checked her bow and arrows, and laid down to look up at the stars. She silently counted constellations, matching them up with the astrariums she'd found. Who knew how many more wonderful little secrets were just waiting out there in the world?

She was starting to drift off to sleep when she heard footsteps approaching. She bolted upright and was reaching for her weapons when she heard a familiar voice.

"Vhenan." Solas stood next to the dying embers of the fire; he carried a veilfire torch in his right hand, illuminating both of them in eerie green light. His left was extended toward her. "Come with me. There is something I want you to see." His eyes gleamed in the faint glow, alight with the excitement of discovery.

Clariel grabbed the coat from under her pillow, all drowsiness forgotten. She shrugged it on, took his hand, and let him lead her away from the camp on silent feet. "Am I dreaming again?" she whispered.

"No. I thought about sending you a message in a dream, but you might have lost your way trying to reach these ruins. They were hard for even me to find."

"That's nice of you, not letting me wander around in the dark," she teased.

Solas stopped walking. He pulled her in by the hand, and placed a hard, searing kiss on her lips. By the time they broke apart, the veilfire was starting to go out. She just caught his half-smile as he reignited the torch.

"Where are we going?" she asked after a while. They certainly weren't headed to the burial grounds. Solas was instead taking her along the river bank. Cool water lapped at her bare feet; reeds brushed against her ankles as they continued downstream.

He turned around and smiled at her, still walking backwards. "Would you like me to tell you, or would you like it to be a surprise?"

"I'd like you to watch where you're going," said Clariel, grinning. Solas stopped, looked over his shoulder at the large branch that was about to clothesline him in the back, and shook his head.

"You're very good at making a fool of me, lethallan."

"Someone has to take you down a peg or two every now and then. Respectfully, hahren." She almost managed to say it with a straight face. His mouth quirked slightly, like he was trying not to laugh.

A few minutes later, the river widened and grew deeper. Solas led her onto the bank; there was no moon, but in the starlight, she could just make out a smaller set of ruins ahead. From what she could see, only the walls further from the bank were still standing. The others had long since crumbled into the water. The veilfire in Solas's hand flared, then died down, responding to magic in the area.

Clariel kept silent, trying not to pepper him with questions. As they drew closer, she could see faintly flickering light inside. Like sunlight on water, but dimmer and warmer. Confused, she looked at Solas, who merely gave her that mysterious smile and held his finger briefly to her lips. A wave of his hand extinguished the torch, and he ushered her into the ruin.

She wasn't sure what she was expecting, but it certainly wasn't this. The floor of the ruin had two long, deep recessed pools, their edges marked with mosaic tiles. The river washed over the tiles and into the pools; one of them glowed with soft orange runes, shimmering up through the water. Entranced, Clariel took a few steps toward the pool and knelt beside it; the water was warm, soothing to the touch.

"I admit, I was surprised the runes still functioned," said Solas, kneeling beside her. "I suppose treasure seekers and grave robbers have little interest in an ancient bath."

Clariel felt her cheeks heat up and her skin tingle when she realized why Solas had brought her here. He stood up and walked to the opposite end of the pool, pulling his tunic over his head and tossing it carelessly onto the half-wall of the ruin. He did the same with the rest of his clothing, deliberate, completely unselfconscious. Magical light, distorted by water, danced over pale skin and hard, lean muscle.

He slid into the water and beckoned her to join him. The water only came up to his waist, leaving her an excellent view of his long, elegant torso. Clariel could feel her ears burning and tried her best not to just gawk at him. "You had to reactivate the magic here, didn't you?" she said.

"I did. It was merely the work of an evening."

"Why?"

His expression turned serious. "Because I will not see this war destroy your spirit. Because here, tonight, I want you to forget everything but us."

She found herself at a loss for words. Solas was not open with his affections, nor particularly sentimental. A stolen kiss, a walk through old memories of the Fade, an interesting book left on her pillow - these were the ways he usually showed his regard for her. In the short weeks since he'd kissed her on her balcony, they'd never reached this point. She dropped her gaze, hesitating with the water lapping her bare toes.

"Solas, I..." The words came out in barely a whisper. She made herself take a deep breath and look at him. "I've...never actually been with anyone before. I'd never even kissed a man until you."

He strode through the water toward her and took her hand between both of his. "Vhenan," he said gently. "I did not know. I didn't bring you here to make you uncomfortable. If you prefer to simply talk or dream, I'm amenable to that."

"I think I'll find it hard to carry on a conversation like this."

Solas laughed and let go of her. She loved that sound, warm and deep and full of promise. "Give me a moment to get dressed."

He was halfway across the pool when her words reached him.

"Wait."

Hastily, with her fingers occasionally slipping over the buttons, Clariel pulled off her coat; she was only in a thin cotton nightshift underneath. She removed her smallclothes from under the shift and stepped into the warm water, the fabric billowing around her like a cloud. Solas let her approach him, never taking his eyes off of her face. Butterflies danced in her stomach; she reached out with curious fingers, laying her palm against his bare chest, feeling his steady heartbeat and warm skin.

He shivered and leaned in, touching his lips to hers. Every kiss she'd shared with Solas had been passionate, intense, the sort to turn her knees to jelly. Solas didn't seem to know how to kiss casually. But this one was different - tender, gentle. His hands lightly cupped her face, tongue brushing against hers before he slowly pulled away. "Clariel..." he whispered, resting his forehead against hers.

She reached up and looped her arms around his shoulders, her eyes drifting shut. "I love you."

"Ar lath ma, vhenan. Always."

It might have been her imagination, but she heard his voice break slightly over the words. Clariel opened her eyes to find him gazing at her with some unfathomable expression. Then the moment passed, and he smiled. "How are you getting back to camp in wet clothes?" he teased.

"I...wasn't planning on going back to camp," she admitted. She watched the effect of her words with fascination; his lips parted ever so slightly, shoulders tensed, affection melting into hunger. Strong arms wrapped around her, pressed her against his skin, tongue parting her lips in a soft but insistent kiss. His hands were everywhere - at her back, slipping under the shift to touch her skin, unraveling her hair from the braid. It fell down her back in long, loose cinnamon curls.

When Solas finally pulled back from her, she was breathless, trembling. He touched the tips of her pointed ears, looking her over from head to toe. "Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?" he whispered.

The intentness of his gaze made her suddenly shy. She tilted her face away to hide her smile. "Is this your way of saying you think I'm beautiful?"

Solas gently caught her chin with his left hand, guiding her back to him. His eyes twinkled in the faint light of the runes. "It was not a matter for debate."

His right hand found the laces of her nightshift. "May I?"

Her voice had left her again, but she nodded quickly. He untied the garment and slipped it from her shoulders, letting it drift in the water. Then he took a half-step back, letting his gaze roam over her body: her small round breasts, toned legs, chestnut skin turned radiant in the dim rune light. Clariel felt her mouth go dry as seconds stretched into minutes.

"In ancient times of Arlathan," he murmured softly, "elves from all across the land would come here, in robes of gold and silver. Your beauty puts them all to shame." He took her hand, shivers running through them both where they touched.

Solas led her to the edge of the pool where recessed benches had been carved into the sides. He gestured for her to sit beside him, but she surprised them both by straddling his lap, pressing her hips against his. His breath hitched sharply, his head fell back, and Clariel took the opportunity to run her lips and tongue down his throat.

Her lover let out a surprised hiss; she decided she liked that sound and did it again, kissing her way down his neck to his shoulder. "Wait," he said, a tremor entering that smooth and confident voice. He wrapped his hands around her waist, shifting them slightly so they were no longer hip to hip. His palms cupped her breasts, and wet fingertips gently teased her nipples. Clariel pressed her lips shut, trying to keep silent. Solas smiled a little and added magic, little tendrils of prickling energy whispering over her bare skin from head to toe.

"It's all right," he whispered. "Tell me what pleases you, vhenan." He ran his lips over the tip of one nipple, pinched and teased it between his teeth, drawing a soft moan from her. She arched her body toward him, but Solas held her in place with his hands on her hips. She felt rather than heard his soft chuckle as his mouth trailed across her chest to the other breast.

One arm wrapped around the small of her back, the other sliding from her breasts down her stomach. When his fingers reached the light brown curls between her legs, Clariel went completely still in his arms, tense as a drawn bowstring.

He pulled back from her ever so slightly. "Do you want me to stop?" he asked, warm breath ghosting over her nipples.

"No," she whispered. "Never."

He sat up straight, the fierce desire in his eyes tempered with a gentle smile. His hands moved to her back, slowly running his palms up her spine to her shoulders. "Have you ever fantasized about this? About us?"

Only the faintest tremor in his voice betrayed him; strong, practiced fingers found the knots in her shoulders, soothing away the tension. Clariel let him support her, eyes drifting closed as she leaned into his touch. "I wouldn't be here if I hadn't," she said, the playful tone somewhat wrecked by how breathless she sounded.

Solas pressed his lips against her ear, flicking his tongue ever so slightly over the sensitive tip. "Share one with me?" he whispered.

It was so unfair how just a few words from him could undo her, conjuring images she'd buried deep in the recesses of her imagination. "I-" she began, stopped with a cry when he dragged his tongue along the shell of her ear, his hot and quickening breath flooding her senses. "I imagined you...using your mouth on me," she admitted, feeling her skin burn from head to toe.

In one fluid movement, Solas picked her up and stood, bringing her completely out of the bath. The cool night air prickled her skin; he turned around and carefully laid her down on the tiles above the pool, still awash in a few inches of warm water. Her legs dangled down into the water, smooth stone at her back, nothing but sky and starlight above. She felt him kneel between her legs, hands on her thighs holding her still.

"Ma nuvenin," he all but purred. Before she had time to say anything or feel self-conscious, he pressed his lips against her sex, lightly running his tongue along her slit. A moan tore from her throat, her hands gripping the side of the pool.

He began with long, slow licks, his tongue just barely touching her clit at the end of each. She was so wet and not from the water, her whole body crying out for more than the feather-light touch he gifted her.

"I can't...oh Solas, please."

The sheer, unadulterated want in her voice made his gentle, deliberate pace snap; he slid one, two fingers inside her, molding his mouth around her clit and sucking. Clariel writhed against him, and he responded with harsh, fast licks. His fingers set an almost indecent pace, the soft splashing of water unable to drown out her breathless, desperate moans.

"Yes," he gasped into her skin. "Let me hear you." He punctuated each word, swirling his tongue around her. Little lines of electricity flowed from his fingers, dancing along her legs. "Sing for me, vhenan."

Clariel liked to think she had a good imagination, but nothing she'd conjured up alone in her room could compare to this. Warm water and cool air, his fingers moving inside her, tongue circling her clit faster and faster. His magic crackled further up her body, ghosting over her sensitive nipples. Heat pooled between her legs, much too quickly for her to do anything but shudder and moan and ride the crest of pleasure against him.

"Solas-" She came with his name on her lips, just barely had the presence of mind to hear his deep, appreciative growl. But he didn't relent for almost a minute, kept touching and drawing out her peak with agonizing care. When he finally pulled his fingers away, he stood up and locked eyes with her, slowly licking her moisture from his fingers. His parted lips found hers, letting her taste herself on him.

"I also imagined pleasuring you like this," he said as he pulled her back into the warm water, soft and unresisting in his arms. "Sometimes I forget that the Fade can only grant so much. The sounds of your pleasure are more beautiful than any dream could ever be."

Clariel reached up and stroked his cheek. "How long have you dreamed of this?" she asked once she could speak again.

To her surprise, a light flush touched his handsome face. "Longer than I would care to admit." He shifted, settling her on top of him again. She felt his hard arousal press against her stomach and reached down to touch him with curious, hesitant fingers.

He caught her hand in his. "Clariel, you threaten to undo me," he warned.

"Then let go," she said, resting her forehead against his. "Just for a little while." She returned his favor from earlier, gently kneading the hard planes of his broad shoulders and back with her knuckles. Solas let go of her hand, his eyes closing and breath escaping him in a slow sigh. But still he hesitated, rolling his hips slowly without trying to enter her. It took her a few moments to work out why.

"My love, don't worry so much about hurting me."

His pale blue eyes flew open, almost alarmed. "Clariel, I-"

She peppered his pale skin with kisses. "Make love to me, Solas. Please."

He seemed to have a weakness for her asking him; that one word was all it took. He kissed her hungrily, desperately, swallowing her gasp when he entered her with one hard, fast thrust. Solas moaned into her mouth and continued to kiss her, distracting her from the pain with his tongue and lips. His arms came up around her, pressing her against his chest, willing her to feel the pounding of his heart.

He was everything - around her, filling her, his breath supplanting hers. She broke away from his kisses long enough to give him a tiny nod and he finally moved inside her, hands moving to her hips to guide her. His fierce blue eyes fluttered closed, mouth falling open in a soundless gasp as the previously calm pool rippled around them. His whole body trembled with need; he asked wordlessly and she gave, letting him move faster and kiss harder.

A string of elven escaped his lips, too strangled and breathless for her to make out the words. He was close, close enough for both of them to sense, her name turning into a chant in time with his hips.

"May I?" he asked shakily.

Her answer was to wrap her legs around his slim waist and pull him into her. Solas's startled gasp froze in his throat, his head falling back against the tile as he spilled himself inside her. She continued moving with him, drawing out his ecstasy as he had done for her. He cradled her against his chest, holding her as though he never intended to let go. Neither of them said anything; there was no need for words.

But eventually her body started to protest; the warm water had done a lot to dull the pain, but it wasn't completely gone. She squirmed and he let go of her, slipping out of her body. His brow furrowed when he saw the thin trails of blood she left in the water.

Before he could say anything, Clariel poked him in the chest, hard. "Don't. In fact, I forbid you from feeling guilty," she said firmly. "That was wonderful, Solas. I wouldn't have shared it with anyone else."

His expression slowly changed from stormy to warm, eyes crinkled in the secret smile he reserved for her. "Nor would I," he replied. He moved her to the bench beside him and slowly got to his feet, completely oblivious to the chill of the night air. "Wait here a moment." He hoisted himself out of the pool with easy grace, and she couldn't help but stare. He knew it too, throwing an amused smile over his shoulder at her.

Solas walked to one of the fallen pillars in the ruin, where he'd left two large towels. He tossed both over his shoulders and headed back to her, offering his hand once more to help her out of the pool. She took it gratefully; she felt like if she tried to stand on her own, her knees would give way.

"Such a gentleman," she teased. "And a prepared one."

"Prepared, yes," he mused. "A gentleman...I suppose I could learn for you." Ignoring the water pearled on his own skin, he began gently toweling her dry, starting with her long hair. Clariel let out a contented hum; the same hands that had driven her wild just a few minutes ago soothed her, warmed her from head to toe. When he was done, he wrapped the dry towel around her snugly.

"What about you?"

Solas merely smirked at her and snapped his fingers. A thin tongue of fire wrapped around his body, vaporizing the remaining water instantly. Little tendrils of steam rose from his gloriously naked body into the air.

"Show-off," she said affectionately.

Clariel's soft yelp of surprise turned into a giggle when he picked her up, still wrapped in the towel, and started carrying her out of the ruin. He was taller and broader in the shoulders and chest than most of their kind, but his easy, effortless strength surprised her.

"Solas, you left our clothes behind."

He didn't even break his stride. "We can recover them in the morning."

She wrapped her arms around his neck, nuzzling his cheek. "You don't have to carry me all the way to the burial grounds, you know."

"I didn't set up camp in the burial grounds. The dreams there are fascinating but...distressing at best, and I did not think they would make for a pleasant evening."

Clariel mulled over that for a moment before quickly making up her mind. "Show me," she said.

He stopped walking abruptly. "Vhenan, I don't think-"

"I fell in love with you for your incredible mind as much as anything else." Her hands came away from his neck to cradle his face. "You don't have to hide things from me just because they might be upsetting."

He didn't move, staring at her in his arms. Then he gently set her on her feet, pressing his lips to her forehead. "Tomorrow," he promised, his eyes closing briefly. "Remember, tonight is just for us."

The two elves walked hand in hand along the riverbank to the remnants of a campfire nestled among the roots of an enormous oak tree. Solas rekindled the flames with an easy flick of his wrist and gestured the thick bedroll laying on the grass. Clariel peeled off the towel and gratefully crawled in, then noticed he was still standing. She wiggled around inside the bedroll. "I think we can make it fit two," she prompted.

He tossed the wet towels over one of the branches of the oak, then got in with her. The bedroll was clearly meant for just Solas, but he pulled her over him so her head rested on his chest, her long hair blanketing them both. A few strands caught the tip of his nose, making him sneeze.

Clariel looked up at him. "I didn't know you were ticklish," she said, a slow smile spreading across her lips.

Solas gave her a half-hearted scowl. "I am not," he said with a soft huff. "Your hair simply gets everywhere." But he buried his fingers it in nonetheless, softly stroking the top of her head. "It seems impractical to braid it every morning."

"I've become very practiced at it. Besides, what would a bald man know about braiding hair?"

She knew that half-smile all too well, the one that spoke of hidden knowledge, however obscure or strange. His long, strong fingers began to move swiftly through her hair, gently molding it to his design. Her eyes closed, breathing following the rhythm of his hands. She wanted to drift off into sleep, but she held on just long enough to see what his hands had wrought.

It was simpler than her usual coiled style, a pair of braids that resolved into one down her back. But Solas had done it with the same meticulous care that he took in his painting, or his magic. She smiled sleepily at him, felt him run his hands along her back and pull her close beneath the stars.

In a rare turn, he fell asleep first, his breathing deep and even. She lifted her head slightly, felt her heart squeeze a little as she gazed down at him. Her love was usually so focused, wary, but the sharp lines of his face were relaxed. Peaceful, even, the weight of his life slipping away for now. She took a few seconds to commit his rare peace to memory before closing her eyes.

Usually when she sought him in the Fade, he would lead her somewhere, teach her something. That night, he was content to merely hold her in the ancient baths of Arlathan, counting constellations in a sea of endless stars.

A/N: Apologies if this fic is a little rough around the edges; I was trying to finish it for the BSN Solas thread's 1500 page celebration and didn't have time to get it to my lovely beta. Thanks to the Solas thread for being wonderful people and horrible enablers. As always thanks to BioWare, Patrick Weekes, and Gareth David-Lloyd for Dragon Age: Inquisition and Solas.

ar lath ma, vhenan: I love you, (my) heart

hahren: elder, more generally a term of respect among the Dalish

lethallan: casual reference for one who is familiar (female)

ma nuvenin: as you wish

vhenan: my heart (implied possessive)