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It had been several days since the Inquisition's arrival at Skyhold and Dah’lia’s naming as the Inquisitor.
There was much to do, however, Josephine had been kind enough to prioritise the restoration of Dah’lia’s chambers so that she could continue resting after her ordeal at Haven.
She looked around at the enormous room that was hers - hers - and eyed the ornate double bed. It was luxurious and not something she’d get used to easily.
Walking over to her desk, she planted herself heavily in the nearby chair.
Her mind was reeling. An accumulation of all that had happened, all they had lost, and all that was still to come.
She had faced down a darkspawn Magister.
Corypheus.
A shiver ran down her spine as she brought his face to mind - stretched flesh over jagged red. She shook her head free of the image. No. Today was a day of rest.
But, Creators, was she bored.
She glanced at the contents of her desk and spotted a fruit basket, courtesy of some nobles who probably wanted to accrue favour from the new Inquisitor.
At the top was a medium-sized spiky fruit. It was a curious thing - Dah’lia had never seen one before. She picked it up and sniffed it - it didn't smell much of anything, so she set it on the table next to the basket to prop it up.
Leaning back, she let out a sigh before spotting a pile of blank parchments, a quill, an inkpot, and some pencils placed neatly on the left of her desk.
A thought sparked in her restless mind.
Picking up a piece of blank parchment and a pencil, she started to sketch the curious fruit.
She’d never drawn anything really - except for the scribbles she’d presented to her mother and Keeper Deshanna as a child - but she wanted to give it a go.
Anything to quell the disquiet bubbling within her.
She quickly learned, however, that although singing, music and dance came naturally to her, drawing was an entirely different beast.
She spent hours carefully trying to capture the likeness of the strange fruit, adding the spiked top last. When it was finished, she let out a satisfied hum.
Standing, sketch in hand, she descended the stairs leading to the main hall.
As soon as she opened the door, the noise of construction reached her ears along with the hustle and bustle of everyone who'd survived Haven - as well as some pilgrims and aforementioned nobles.
A few caught her eye, but she curtly nodded and continued towards the rotunda.
There was only one person she wanted to see.
She walked in slowly.
The room was spacious, with bare rounded walls - one side sporting recently installed scaffolding - and a large desk in the middle.
Solas was sitting there perusing some ancient-looking tomes.
He looked up as Dah’lia approached, smiling as she perched herself on the edge of his desk. “Good afternoon…Inquisitor.” There was a glint in his eye that she responded to with a roll of hers.
“I sketched something before. Do you want to see?” she asked excitedly.
“Ah, drawing - an art form I’m rather fond of. And, of course.” He leaned back in his chair, ready for her to present her sketch.
“Wait. You can draw?” She furrowed her brow.
“Yes. I finished a painting not long ago, in fact.”
“Ok.” She eyed him skeptically. “Well, in that case. I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”
He chuckled. “Agreed.”
She gingerly lifted her sketch of the spiky fruit. “I don't know what it is. It was in a basket on my desk.”
“I suspect it is a pineapple, typically found in Rivain. But regardless…it is a very good sketch. Well done.”
“A pineapple…huh,” she said thoughtfully. “And thank you! Now…show me yours.”
Solas stood up from his desk and walked towards the scaffolding, reaching around to pick up a large canvas. Dah’lia couldn't see what was on it, but she squinted suspiciously at its size.
He sat back down and flipped the canvas over.
Dah’lia’s eyes widened. “You did that!?”
It was a beautiful landscape painting - sky, mountains and sea. It was breathtaking.
“Yes. Just this morning,” he replied nonchalantly, looking down and gazing upon his work.
“Fuck off!”
His head snapped up. “Excuse me?”
“You did not paint that this morning!” she responded incredulously.
“Yes, I did.” He tilted his head, his eyebrows knitting together slightly as he carefully placed the canvas down to lean against his chair.
“You did NOT paint that this morning!” she said a little louder this time.
“I did!” The frown fell away, and a slight curve appeared at the corners of his mouth, obviously amused.
“I don't believe you.” She placed her sketch down on his desk and crossed her arms defiantly.
“You drew the pineapple.”
“My pineapple is SHIT!” she exclaimed, waving her hand toward her drawing.
He picked it up. “It just needs a bit of shading,” he said, pointing to the areas where shading was required.
“Oh, shut up.”
“A bit of charcoal,” he continued.
“Since when did you know so much about art!? You never mentioned it before!”
“I haven't had the opportunity to do any until now. Besides…you never asked.” He put the sketch down, leaning back once more - his elbows resting on the arms of his chair and his hands coming together, fingertips touching.
She glared at him.
“Correct me if I’m wrong…but I'm sensing that you are upset with me for having a hobby?”
She pursed her lips, refusing to let the smirk now tugging at the corners of her mouth show. “Evidently, yeah.” With that, she stood up, turned and walked off, stopping abruptly halfway to the door and spinning around.
She strode back to his desk and snatched up her pineapple sketch. Meeting his eyes, she caught the glimmer of amusement in his, and despite herself, her mouth betrayed her.
The smirk finally broke through.
Quickly turning again, she marched away, Solas’ soft chuckle trailing behind.