Work Text:
Siona stared at the unfinished fresco across the rotunda. She sees it but not really. Her mind has been wandering lately, traveling far from the current reality.
Her fall into the Fade had rocked her to the core. The Nightmare was monstrous, yes, but it's the other events that have shaken her. The recovery of her memories, the truth about the Divine. Her friend's worst fears. Her heart's worst fear.
Solas had been excited while they were there. It's best she could describe his demeanor. He hadn't presented any fear, just mild annoyance at the Nightmare's goading. Siona was only able to pick up on a few of the elvhen words. She was no mage so she did not receive an in depth education on her ancient and dying language, only the colloquialisms used by her clan.
But his deepest fear was something she could understand, wholly and completely to her bones.
Dying alone.
Siona didn't have much in the way of family. Her father was a passing fancy of her mother and said mother a passing fancy of the clan. Dalish clans raise their children communally but that doesn't change the fact the other children have parents to go to for bed and food. So she and the other handful of orphans just had the Keeper to rely on and her very limited time.
Fend for yourself. Her inner voice chanted.
She didn't come by friends easily. Despite her name meaning sweetness, Siona had a surly personality. A lady of few words and even less kind ones. Creators help whoever got in her way when she's hungry. A mean old grouch for sure. Solas has once been her victim after a particularly long day, but he took it in stride and knew exactly what to do.
She knew loneliness while in her clan. She hunted alone, gathered secrets alone and reported alone. Only her fellow orphans came to check on her.
So, now knowing all the worst fears of her companions and the one she's closest too has the same fear as her has her sitting here, quietly tucked away staring into nothing.
A muffled voice filters into her ear. Then a faint touch on her cheek. The pressure feels firmer as it traces from her cheekbone to her jawbone. She comes to when her head is tilted upward and her vision focuses on the face of Solas.
"Ma Vhenan?" He asks.
She blinks a few times to wake her senses.
"Sorry," Siona says simply.
"You were miles away. Where did you sneak off to?" His voice held no concern, but his eyes betrayed him. They always do.
"The Fade, of course." She deadpans.
He chuckles.
"I wanted your opinion on the work so far, but it seems I've bored you." She knows it's a joke.
Siona soaks up everything the man says even when they weren't on the best of terms.
"You could never bore me...most of the time. Art is not my forte." Siona makes a small smile and wraps her hand around his forearm.
His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, exposing the pale freckled skin and how well built he is. Who knew painting and wielding a staff yielded such great results?
"Tell me anyhow. So I know you've come back to me." He persuades her to stand just with a slight press on the underside of her jaw.
She did and viewed the fresco as intended. Solas sneaks behind her and wraps his arms around her waist. Siona leans into him, savoring the warmth. Feeling him ground her back into reality. Solas is equally perceptive as his heart. He noticed Siona sink away into her mind more times than he can count. He's quite sure she's not wholly aware of how often she does it. He doesn't push or pry--much-- not until she's ready.
He presses a soft kiss to her neck. It is late, the rotunda empty save for the ravens. He allowed himself to be free with his affections.
She has yet to say a word. Still contemplating his work. It is the depiction of her victory at Adamant Fortress. She hadn't said much after the events there, but Solas knew a portion of his own secrets had been revealed whether liked it or not.
"It's-" She pauses. "It's nice."
"You hate it." He traces his lips across her neck again and can feel her breath hitch.
"No! I'm just not fond of the memories it evokes," She says breathlessly.
Solas frowns slightly. Siona has guarded her emotions about Adamant tightly. He has panicked about whether she understood the truth of the Nightmare's words. His thoughts are cut off by her twisting his arms to face him. She wraps her arms tightly around his neck. So tight he feels as though he might lose all breath.
"Vhenan," he chokes out.
"You are grim and secretive and sad, but you are kind and silly and..." She loosens her hold so she may look into his eyes. "And mine. Never think you are alone."
Solas finally understands her now. She saw something in that graveyard. His darkest fear. A fear so many have, even she. Dying alone. His heart flutters at the intensity in her eyes and for this moment he lets himself believe her words.
He rests his forehead to hers.
"You aren't alone either," he says. Deep down it is a lie, but for now, it can be the truth.
"It's late." She releases him fully.
He mourns the loss of her much to his chagrin.
"It is. To bed then?"
"Will you stay?" Siona has a sheepish look in her eyes.
He rarely shared her bed in Skyhold. She worked late as did she, but they did meet in the Fade. He loved her ability to walk in dreams without having a natural ability with magic, the mark opening her mind to it all.
"Of course, Vhenan," he says with a smile.
Siona takes his hand and gives it a squeeze. Then captures his lips in a heated kiss. She is a swift creature, Siona always manages to capture off guard. He gives in. She said he was hers. In the back of his mind, a dark part, she is also his.
She breaks the kiss and pulls him out of the rotunda and to her rooms.