prompt: drunken lavellan trying to kiss solas as he escorts her to her rooms.
In which the Commander’s naked dash through the keep is notthe only consequence of Varric’s card game.
***
He’s dragged rather rudely out of his solitude by her arrival – the jarring slam ofdoor-against-stone followed by an erratic song of too-soft footsteps as shesaunters into the rotunda, shoes missing and her undershirt hanging out of her trousers.
“Solas!” She stumbles against the doorway, and snorts – abubbling of mirth rising with a happy sigh, before she gives herself a pushinto the room. “Found you,” Ellana announces, as though his whereabouts were ever in doubt. Her cheeksare flushed with the tell-tale roses of a particularly strong vintage, hersmile cheeky and a tinge delirious, and if it weren’t for the fact that she’s clearly three sheets to the wind, Solas would have found it a spellbinding sight.
