[He grasps at her, clinging first at her nightclothes, and then shoulders, bowing his head as she pulls him closer, to lay his face against her shoulder. He's being foolish, childish, he knows that— this is no more than any mortal elf, than she herself experiences, nearly every night. And yet, and yet, the contrast!
Solas reaches up to touch her cheek, and clasp her close against him, holding on.]
I'm alright. [His voice is rough with sleep.] Vhenan, I—
[It's too much, too pathetic. He raises his head and presses his forehead to hers, seeking to find some tattered edge of dignity. Solas has not felt so small in millennia.]
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Solas reaches up to touch her cheek, and clasp her close against him, holding on.]
I'm alright. [His voice is rough with sleep.] Vhenan, I—
[It's too much, too pathetic. He raises his head and presses his forehead to hers, seeking to find some tattered edge of dignity. Solas has not felt so small in millennia.]
Mmh. This must seem painfully dramatic, to you.