Calderas Inbox for Inquisitor Lavellan

[arlathvhen]

Beleth Lavellan

voice · text · action

©

Comments

[arlathvhen]

No, she doesn't know what thoughts had run through his mind, or how grim they had been. But she does see a weariness in him, one that he seems to carry as naturally a burden as one's own limbs. Was it the fight? The worry of what she'd done, the risk she had taken, and how it would rebound upon her? Or maybe it was the hundred other worries that seemed to crowd his mind.

Either way, she was of a mind to soothe them.

Both hands reach up to cup his face, and she presses a firm, solid kiss to his lips. One, then another, and slowly begins backing up, towards the bed (one of the first pieces of furniture they'd brought in, luckily). Pulling him along, still cherishing him with long, slow kisses.

"Well, the me that I am now has a few ideas on what I wish for." That made no sense. Especially in the context of what Solas said. She doesn't seem to care.

[goethbeforethefall]

He chuckles at her eagerness, allowing himself to be led. If the argument was bitter, then all the sweeter was forgiveness afterwards; His hands in her hair, and his lips on hers as she tips them backwards and onto the bed.

What he did not owe to this woman, could not be known. She was in everything he did, even now, and he no longer knows how or why he thought to run from her. He is only glad that the curtains are drawn, and the door firmly shut.

The rest would wait, for another day.