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1. Do I have your attention?
  “I never expected life in the Inquisition to be quite so glamorous,” Solas mused as he finished heating yet another bath. Although Allim’ir, the Herald, was a warrior herself and certainly no stranger to manual labor—not to mention being Dalish and therefore with significant survival experience—she had been asking his help for quite some time, rather than building a fire herself. He had two theories as to why. The first was connected to his observations of her surprisingly delicate nature: her careful steps to avoid crushing plant life, her admiration of Orlais’s rich dresses and fine jewels, even her simple insistence on bathing every day, regardless of how busy they’d been or how exhausted she was. He wondered if she might just prefer not to “get her hands dirty,” as it were.

            His second theory was somewhat more complex. After all, there were other heat sources, even other mages who would have been glad to help her. Yet she always came to him. In light of certain conversations they’d had of late, he was led to believe she had…other motivation for asking him. As he was considering the factors involved in her decision, he was brought out of his reverie by the sound of Allim’ir entering the room behind him.

            “Will there be anything else, my l…lady?” He tried to tease her a bit over her dependence on him for this task, but his train of thought all but derailed when he saw her, no longer covered by bulky armor—or, for that matter, by much at all. She was clothed in a simple robe and…presumably naked underneath. In the few weeks he’d been performing this service, he had never seen her in such a state of undress. He couldn’t help but notice, try as he might, that her feet were bare, as well; he could only look pointedly away so as not to stare.

            “No,” she answered cheerfully. “That should be all. Ma serannas, lethallin.”

            “Ma nuvenin,” he answered almost automatically, as he’d grown used to doing. She walked past him as he made his way toward the door, still a bit dazed. He wasn’t sure whether his second theory had just been simplified or further complicated. Distracted, he paused near the doorway, perhaps debating on asking her plainly. Odd that he should be hesitant to request the truth, yet this matter felt…delicate.

            “Solas?” Her voice called his attention back, and he glanced up to find her watching him over her shoulder. She had untied the belt around her waist before realizing he hadn’t yet left, so she was simply holding the robe close around her. That left her shoulders bare, her hair pulled to one side and displaying her pale, green-tinted skin. Solas stiffened and immediately turned away. “Did you need something?”

            “No. Ir abelas,” he muttered as he quickly strode from the room. She watched him leave in silence, only allowing her smile to show once she was sure he had fled. Well, she had been looking to gauge his reaction, and he hadn’t disappointed. At least she knew she had his attention; she would just have to be sure she kept it.

Description
body div#devskin0 hr { }

1. Do I have your attention?
  “I never expected life in the Inquisition to be quite so glamorous,” Solas mused as he finished heating yet another bath. Although Allim’ir, the Herald, was a warrior herself and certainly no stranger to manual labor—not to mention being Dalish and therefore with significant survival experience—she had been asking his help for quite some time, rather than building a fire herself. He had two theories as to why. The first was connected to his observations of her surprisingly delicate nature: her careful steps to avoid crushing plant life, her admiration of Orlais’s rich dresses and fine jewels, even her simple insistence on bathing every day, regardless of how busy they’d been or how exhausted she was. He wondered if she might just prefer not to “get her hands dirty,” as it were.

            His second theory was somewhat more complex. After all, there were other heat sources, even other mages who would have been glad to help her. Yet she always came to him. In light of certain conversations they’d had of late, he was led to believe she had…other motivation for asking him. As he was considering the factors involved in her decision, he was brought out of his reverie by the sound of Allim’ir entering the room behind him.

            “Will there be anything else, my l…lady?” He tried to tease her a bit over her dependence on him for this task, but his train of thought all but derailed when he saw her, no longer covered by bulky armor—or, for that matter, by much at all. She was clothed in a simple robe and…presumably naked underneath. In the few weeks he’d been performing this service, he had never seen her in such a state of undress. He couldn’t help but notice, try as he might, that her feet were bare, as well; he could only look pointedly away so as not to stare.

            “No,” she answered cheerfully. “That should be all. Ma serannas, lethallin.”

            “Ma nuvenin,” he answered almost automatically, as he’d grown used to doing. She walked past him as he made his way toward the door, still a bit dazed. He wasn’t sure whether his second theory had just been simplified or further complicated. Distracted, he paused near the doorway, perhaps debating on asking her plainly. Odd that he should be hesitant to request the truth, yet this matter felt…delicate.

            “Solas?” Her voice called his attention back, and he glanced up to find her watching him over her shoulder. She had untied the belt around her waist before realizing he hadn’t yet left, so she was simply holding the robe close around her. That left her shoulders bare, her hair pulled to one side and displaying her pale, green-tinted skin. Solas stiffened and immediately turned away. “Did you need something?”

            “No. Ir abelas,” he muttered as he quickly strode from the room. She watched him leave in silence, only allowing her smile to show once she was sure he had fled. Well, she had been looking to gauge his reaction, and he hadn’t disappointed. At least she knew she had his attention; she would just have to be sure she kept it.