Beleth had all that she'd had on her when she was taken... which was nothing but the robes provided by the Shadow Dragons. Her old clothes, fit for an Inquisitor, for an icon to be looked upon and possibly worshipped, well made and well enchanted, would not have served for her clandestine meetings with Rook. Her weapon hadn't been in her hand when she went to Solas. She hadn't wanted him to think she came for war.
She might have needed it in the Fade, though? It hadn't occurred to her at the time. Her mind was busy with a variety of other things she'd be doing in the Fade, none of which involved weaponry.
Speaking of which. Her eyes draw to his form. He is so tall, taller than some human men, taller than any elf she knew. His form striking, posture so assured. She believes when he says he can swim, he has the build for it. His arms looked strong, and his fingers--
There's a twinge in her stomach, almost unfamiliar to her. It's been ten years since she felt it last. She turns away, grateful that Solas is busy staring at the ocean (trying to figure out where they must go, maybe?), and he didn't catch her oogling like an undisciplined teenager. It wouldn't do to look undignified in front of him. Though considering all she's wearing is her breast band and a pair of thin shorts--well, she'll make do with what she can do.
"I've been told that the caves here are not dissimilar, but the person who told me was kind enough to provide flares that will work underwater, to help guide us." Oh right. She fishes them out of her discarded pants. One is presented to Solas, the other has its strap wrapped around her wrist. Business concluded, she turns to him with a wistful smile.
"Please, never apologize for telling me stories. You have no idea how much I enjoyed them. And how much I missed them. I'm sure you can imagine that Morrigan doesn't tell me stories."
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She might have needed it in the Fade, though? It hadn't occurred to her at the time. Her mind was busy with a variety of other things she'd be doing in the Fade, none of which involved weaponry.
Speaking of which. Her eyes draw to his form. He is so tall, taller than some human men, taller than any elf she knew. His form striking, posture so assured. She believes when he says he can swim, he has the build for it. His arms looked strong, and his fingers--
There's a twinge in her stomach, almost unfamiliar to her. It's been ten years since she felt it last. She turns away, grateful that Solas is busy staring at the ocean (trying to figure out where they must go, maybe?), and he didn't catch her oogling like an undisciplined teenager. It wouldn't do to look undignified in front of him. Though considering all she's wearing is her breast band and a pair of thin shorts--well, she'll make do with what she can do.
"I've been told that the caves here are not dissimilar, but the person who told me was kind enough to provide flares that will work underwater, to help guide us." Oh right. She fishes them out of her discarded pants. One is presented to Solas, the other has its strap wrapped around her wrist. Business concluded, she turns to him with a wistful smile.
"Please, never apologize for telling me stories. You have no idea how much I enjoyed them. And how much I missed them. I'm sure you can imagine that Morrigan doesn't tell me stories."