driftfleet | SS Pathstone Mingle

[Jove seeks him out immediately, once she's sure he's returned, and that fact should surprise absolutely no one at all. She finds him sketching in the dark and spends a long moment just watching him, content in a way she hasn't been in months, because finally he has come home.

As home as anywhere can be in space, anyway. When she's sure he won't jump and make an accidental mark on his paper, she speaks up.]

It took you long enough to get here.

[ If Solas is aware he's being watched, he makes no comment on it - the feeling of eyes trailing him is not unfamiliar aboard the fleet and he has long since become accustomed to it. It was certainly something he was used to as part of the Inquisition and it has not been so long that he's forgotten the feeling entirely.

It's only when he hears Jove's voice that he stops and puts his papers down, pausing for a moment to gather himself and his emotions before he turns his head to look at her. She is as beautiful as she was the last time he saw her and for a moment he is speechless, trying to gather his words before he loses them all entirely. ]

Through no fault of my own, lethallan, I assure you.

I believe you. It still felt like an eternity, though.

[Maybe she should wait for an invitation, but just this once Jove chooses to assume Solas will forgive her the lack of manners and she doesn't bother with propriety. She steps inside, goes straight to his side. It feels much better being there than hovering in a doorway.]

What are you working on?

I wonder if my previous shipmates would even note my absence.

[ He had been quick, after all, to make his way from the Paisley to the Pathstone as soon as there had been room and he had certainly not interacted with any of his crewmates. No, this is where he belonged - at least, for now, here in this moment - and he was glad to be back, to return to familiar walls and familiar people.

It hurt, of course, and he felt as though he was betraying himself and Jove by being here once more, but he was used to the half-truths - not lies, he reminded himself. He simply omitted things that were not relevant.

When she joins him he softens, turning the paper to allow her to see it. Considering the artist, it's not a particularly decorative piece - it's simply a sketch of a wolf and a halla, entwined together with spirits around them. ]

Perhaps a mural, perhaps not. I have not yet decided.

[She has a quip for that, something about how their loss is her gain, but it flies straight out the window when she looks down and sees that sketch. The voices of the Well howl something in elvish that she doesn't understand, and she's become too used to ignoring them to pay it any heed now.

After all, how often have they been helpful here?]

Solas, it's... [All the teasing humor has gone out of her tone, replaced by a voice that's more a whisper than anything else.] It's beautiful. It's beyond that, even like this. As a mural it would be breathtaking.

[Something that has nothing to do at all with the Well of Sorrows whispers reminders of her vallaslin, of what the curls on her forehead represent, and she glances toward him to see if she's right in assuming the halla must have something to do with her. He'd left wolves all over the ship, in her room most of all, and she had assumed they were some form of protection, but now she's less sure.]

Why wouldn't you turn it into a mural?

[ He knows why he would never truly turn it into a mural - he knows why he would never paint it onto the walls of the ship for all of the crew and it's visitors to see. The personal nature of this drawing, the way that the shape has unfolded before him and made itself known before he even knew what he was drawing, as if his heart was plastered to the page - no, there was no choice but to keep this to himself and, it seems, to Jove, who had seen it before he had any chance to decide, one way or another, what he might do with it.

Solas shakes his head, putting his charcoal to one side and attempting nonchalance and some form of absentmindedness. ]

I am not certain it would be appropriate for the Pathstone, nor would it fit in with most of the decoration.

[ A simple answer that isn't truly a lie. It wouldn't fit - the others are drawings of wolves with three eyes, depictions of Arhen and Jove's journey throughout Thedas, artistry that shows the Gods and their nature. This is a reflection of Solas and nothing else and he cannot bear to have himself on show like that. He refuses to allow himself to be so vulnerable. ]

Perhaps another drawing will suffice, da'len?

[Her lips turn down immediately, an unhappy frown replacing her curious expression as she shakes her head.]

You could put it in my room, there's still an entire wall left unpainted. It's beautiful, Solas, it should be somewhere other than hidden in your sketchbook.

[Maybe she should just accept his answer, his wish for privacy, but there's- something, something pulling at her that makes her not want to let this go.]

[ A long pause is drawn out between them as Solas considers it - because he knows what this drawing means, what it represents, the wolf and the halla entwined with the world watching them, eyes in every corner stuck watching their journey. Eventually, he breathes out and relents, turning to Jove with a small lift of his mouth. ]

If you would like it in your room, Jove, then I would be glad to do it for you.

[ It would not and could not belong anywhere else, after all, he was sure of that. ]

[For some reason, this doesn't feel like a victory at all. It's more like she's cowed him into agreeing, and that doesn't sit at all well with her. Does he feel like he has to agree to stop an argument? Like he has no right to refuse her? It can't be that, he's his own man and he always has been, but there's still something... off, about this. It doesn't feel like a victory, and it doesn't feel right.

Now her frown is one of concern, and she reaches a little haltingly to put her hand on Solas' shoulder.]

Is there something troubling you, Solas? If you really don't want it to be seen...

I do not mind it being seen in your rooms. It is no trial for me to share it, da'len.

[ He turns and watches her, careful with his gaze for a long, drawn out moment before he shakes his head. It's easier to pace himself like this, to adjust to being back here, under her watch and with her gaze upon him - but it is still difficult. Some things take time and Solas is aware of that, aware of the fact that the secrets he holds deep in his heart are unforgivable and dangerous. He cannot let her know and, perhaps, that is the most deadly thing.

Breathing out, he shifts and passes the paper to her. ]

Consider it yours, to do with as you please.

[She takes the paper, holding it carefully to avoid creasing it, but she doesn't look away from Solas' face. There's something so different about him now but no matter how hard she tries, she can't put her finger on what. On what would have taken place to change him in this way, make him even more withdrawn than he had been to start with.

She remembers his tombstone, his greatest fear shown to her in the Fade, and it terrifies her to think he may be closer to that truth in Arhen's version of the world. With her free hand, she reaches for Solas'.]

Come with me, lethallin.

Edited 2016-02-21 23:48 (UTC)

[ Instinct guides him more than anything else, allowing Solas to take Jove's hand in his own, to allow himself that simple comfort. He wonders what thoughts rush through her mind, what she thinks when she gazes down upon the paper - a simple drawing that means more to him than words can express but, at the same time, has layers of secrecy that she cannot begin to unravel. Not yet, not when she is so far from the truth, when it is hidden from her like a blindfold upon her eyes and magic within her mind.

He can only hope that it will continue to be so, that he might live in this quiet, impossible world for a few days more. He had done so when he was part of the Inquisition, stayed at Arhen's side as a friend and ally, manipulating all he could until there was nothing but isolation left. Now he has Jove, and Cole, and he feels something burn inside of him.

Lethallin, she calls him, and somehow it feels wrong in a way he cannot voice. ]

As you wish. Lead the way.

[Leading him gently by the hand, she takes him to her room. It hasn't changed much since he last saw it, the same plants and his own murals on the walls, but true to her word there's an entire space that's blank.

Maybe it's just a coincidence, or maybe she left it uncovered by vines or other decorations on purpose, waiting for him to come back and fill the blank space for her. If pressed she wouldn't give a clear answer, but either way it was empty and she's about to fix that.

She releases his hand once the door is closed behind them, moves to her workspace to pluck a few pieces of adhesive usually used to keep plants growing straight. It's only a few seconds of work, but when she steps back from the wall his picture is secured there, and when Jove turns back to Solas it's with a pleased smile.]

There, you see? It's going to look perfect there. This can serve as a placeholder until we get the paints you'll need.

[ It's far too easy to follow her, just as it had been to follow Arhen when his time had been spent with him - it was as if he had never been apart from her, as though he had never been absent from the Fleet and he had simply been at rest, awaiting her to come and nudge him back to her side. It was strange, certainly, and he was still urging himself to become used to it once more - two years makes a rather large difference to anyone, after all, and for Solas...

Perhaps it's best not to dwell.

A part of him wonders about propriety and what others might believe once the door is shut behind them, but Solas finds that he does not particularly care. There is a part of him that thinks he should, that he should fight back against the idea of being alone with someone that isn't his... But this is Jove, and he is simply Solas. Few would think such negative things of him, and he is sure of that, no matter how wrong they are. ]

I see.

[ He steps forward, ignoring her bed and shifting to look at where the picture is placed. ]

I imagine it will look rather handsome.

[It would be best for Solas to put thoughts of propriety and decency out of his mind as quickly as he can because from the very beginning, Jove had used over the top sexual innuendo and as many jokes as possible to diffuse tension with the humans in Haven. Tell Blackwall she liked the idea of him on his knees to keep him from thinking too hard about following an elven woman's orders, make Cullen stammer and blush to end a conversation, tell Dorian he was painfully attractive to keep his spirits high, she had been shameless and hadn't cared at all what passersby might think of her.

Solas himself hadn't even been safe, but unlike the humans he could give as well as he got.

Even now, in the fleet, she flirts more than she should with people she holds dear and commonly shares the captain's nest with Tek and Crowley. There's never been any room in her life for propriety and Solas alone with her in her room isn't something Jove considers provocative in any way. She's brought him here to show him how much she'd like to see his work, there's nothing inappropriate about that.]

I won't put you to work right away, but I won't lie and say I'm not eager to see it finished.

[ There are some things he cannot ignore, just as there are things he cannot atone for, and even as he walks alongside Jove, even as he stands beside her... He knows that there is no escape from it all, that there is no means for him to ever entirely clear his head. He does not want to, truly, for he knows his sins are a punishing reminder, but he can say nothing and do nothing of it for now - he is trapped, as he once was, and all his plans and thoughts have been paused in order for his life to continue here.

It's almost as though it is a gift he does not deserve, and Solas feels strange and out of place thinking of it. Discomfort makes him shift, awkwardly, but even so he manages to keep himself together. He has no other choice.

Walking through, he stops and gazes at the wall for a long, drawn out moment before he huffs out a short laugh. ]

Has my time in the Inquisition made you feel that I am afraid of hard work, Jove?

[ It's a gentle tease, and he turns his head back to look at her, gentle and fond. ]

[Her heart eases when he looks back at her, when he laughs and when he looks like finally some of the sorrow that's been hanging over him is starting to fade away. She smiles back at him, taking a seat on the bed with a carefree shrug of her shoulders.]

You did spend a lot of your time researching things that had nothing to do with our mission, if I recall correctly. Did you ever discover what the shards found by the oculara were for?

[ Not all of the sorrow will ever disappear, of course, and there is no way that Solas will ever be entirely healed, but around Jove he softens, relaxes, calms. He becomes a more gentle creature and the entire world could see it if only they knew him better, understood him more. She is one of the few granted the chance and he would be loathe to allow many others to see through his walls.

For now, he nods. ]

They opened a door of a temple called Solasan. Each had a spirit guardian and seemed to grant magical boons to those that collected many of the shards throughout Thedas.

SS Pathstone Mingle

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