The Herald and The Apostate

VII

The Exalted Plains called to her.

The history, the culture, the lively air of it all.  

The beauty of the people.  

The danger of the demons lurking so fiendishly. 

It was thrilling.  It put her on edge.  Honed her into a weapon of ferocity, a diplomat with courage and integrity, an ambassador of faith, a spy for honor, and a tool to be used at the hands of the Dalish that still despise her.  

"I can smell it on you, you know."  

She hadn't said anything as she rounded the corner from the agreed upon bathing site to the camp.  

Solas hadn't followed her there.  It had been no surprise.  They have to keep up a presence of individuality despite the group being suspicious of them.  

It's late.  

The sky is dark and heavy with exhaustion.  The sun has taken its leave, turned out the lamps, and set for rest until dawn.  The moon glimmers brightly just off the horizon.  

Everything around Maeve had her excited.  

Being in this place, engulfed in culture and magic, and accompanied by Solas, made her... feverish.  To say the least.  

She'd taken a small pouch of muscle relaxing herbs to steam near the water as she bathed.  Everything in her body felt tense.  Wound tightly with no relief.  Solas would not be that relief.  Not this time.  

He told her before they left Skyhold for the plains that he would not touch her until they were safe in their bed once more.  Her close call with a great bear the week before had shaken him.  Now, with Varric and Sera with them, she has no doubt that he'll keep his distance and endure Sera's ranting instead.  

"It's..."  He sighs, closing his eyes.  "intoxicating."  

Maeve only smiles, bunching her towel up in her arms as she steps closer to him, her mouth only centimeters from his.  

"I don't know what you mean, Wolf?"  She replies coyly, biting her bottom lip and staring into his blue, blue eyes.  She could get lost in those eyes every day.  

He makes a sound, like something half way between a growl and a considerate sigh.  "I think you do.  You try hard to clean up after yourself but I can still sense it, still smell it in your skin, in your hair."  She knows exactly what he means but she likes this side if him, the desperate, needy, aching side of him.  

He tries so hard to resist.  

His nose brushes hers.  "You have no idea how badly I wanted to follow you tonight.  How I craved to watch you in the water.  To see you undress.  To see you sigh into the warmth of the spring so perfectly as it swallowed your body."  He takes her hand in his, bringing it up to his mouth, where he kisses her fingertips lovingly.  

"To gaze upon you as these miraculously sinful fingers found that pulsing heat between your legs."  He sucks skillfully on her pinkie finger, making her mewl in delight.  "What I would've done to watch."  She presses her body against his, forcing him into the rock wall of the nearby hillside.  

Solas stares into her green eyes then, smiling.  

She'd been feeling so overwhelmed with everything around her.  With the relief that the bath had offered her, it was too much not to do it.  

"Make no mistake, Emma'lath."  She leans closer, pecking a small, minuscule, open eyed kiss onto his lips.  "I intend to make you watch in agony when we return to Skyhold.  My own, sweet, hot revenge for making me wait for you."  

Solas smirks, half of his grin turning upward, pulling his expression into amusement and lust.  "Is that so?  I dare say that you won't last that long, Maeve."  It's a challenge, a playful temptation, to see if she will take what she wants rather than wait for it.  

She quirks an eyebrow at him.  "You want to bet, Vhenan?"

Her voice is so, so very quiet.  

But it sparks the want in him.  No, that's not quite right.  That wanting has been sparked since he had her the first time. This, this is an eruption of the need within.  

With it, he gives in, feeling the temptation too great in his being.  Solas lifts her, letting her wrap her long elven legs around him.  She kisses him and it's hot and wet and firm, like she hadn't kissed him in days.  

Which is in fact true.  

Giving in to the pull, the allure of her is so, so sweet.  Every touch is rewarding.  Every kiss is returned tenfold.  Every breath is like a new life within.  Each noise, or moan, or mewl is like heaven on their tongues.  

"Solas,"  She breathes into his mouth, feeling his legs carrying the both of them elsewhere.  "I love you."  Her words are unaffected by their travel.  All she feels is him.  "So, so much."  She whispers as his teeth nip at her bottom lip gingerly.  

When he sets her down, they're no longer in camp.  

She only keeps her clothes for a few moments.  The air around her is dark and, indoors, she realizes.  "Where are we, Solas?"  She asks him, granted a brief, chilly reprieve as he stands before her, stepping out of his trousers, his shirt already thrown aside.  

"A temple.  An old place the elves no longer visit.  We will not be disturbed here, Da'ean."  Within seconds of that remark, he's on her again, kissing her, lowering them both to the ground in a lusty hurry.  

"Now hold still, Vhenan."  Solas tells her, giving her only little warning before sliding into her ready, heavily anxious canal.  And she tightens around him, relishing the intense feeling of having him take her on the plains of their people.