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[laurenande]

(Galadriel is fairly used to getting mail but she'll be a bit shocked to receive any in Thedas. For any notes, missives, letters, or other communications.)

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[dirth]

Solas is well aware of what can happen when items of power fall into hands they do not belong in; he had been the one to give Corypheus the orb, as inadvertent as that mistake had been, and he is paying the price of it for now. He has been the price of it for many years now, and the weight of it settles on his shoulders with a heaviness that he can barely shrug off now. He knows the price that comes with power and he knows the dangers it can leave you with - he has simply learned to live with the consequences of his choice.

"I do not intend to use it," even if the temptation is there. If this ring is as powerful as she says it is then it might be enough, but - no. His strength is returning, slowly, and he will have the power to regain what he lost in time. He does not need a ring from a Rift in order to take back what was lost.

"Would you risk another being the one to have it? Would you trust Anders, or Myrobalan?" Solas thinks that, maybe, in this, even Thranduil would not be so wise a choice. "I would take it, but I would not use it. I have no reason to make use of such a power, not when the risks are so clear, so obvious. I do not want that to be a price to be paid."

Leaning forward, his hand lifts, brushing her hair again, stroking gently, drawing her close. He lets her rest against him, lets her drink from her strength, from what he has left to give her, and he draws her closer. When he leans down it's so he can tilt her head, gently enough, and leave a kiss against her mouth. It's a soft, sweet, tender thing, borne of his affection, and the softness to him is more than obvious.

"I will not have myself consumed. I will return to you."

[laurenande]

Galadriel looks to him again, her lips still holding to the ghost of that tender kiss, and some of the edge to her, that desperate uncomfortable distance that took hold when they arrived, breaks away. She seems younger in that moment then she has any right to seem; there is a thread of honest hope in her expression.

She lifts a hand and it finds his--Solas, the elf that she has come to care for so deeply--and she does not worry for him. He is not lying, he will not be tempted by the ring. Perhaps, and this is so strange a thought it barely manages to form: perhaps she need not worry anout Nenya. Perhaps it shall be resolved without her efforts.

Her fingers wind between his and bring them to rest against her collarbone, idly using her shoulder to prop their limbs up.

"No, I would trust no others, in this world or the last. Only you." She says that with such certainty and softness that it is almost surprising to hear aloud. "Thank you, Solas. I cannot tell you how dear you are to me, I lack the words."

[dirth]

At least she is comforted, he thinks. Seeing the edge fall away from her, seeing the softness return to her features. It's what she deserves, he thinks - softness, tenderness, especially after the ordeal she has been through. Suspended as she was with the dagger embedded deep, poison in her veins, through her system... She deserves a moment of respite, he thinks. She deserves a time to forget these worries that plague her so desperately.

His fingers slip through hers gently, letting her move and guide him. He knows that this mission of theirs is something dangerous and desperate, but he knows that they might succeed. He knows that, together, they will find the ring and bring Nenya back to its rightful owner. Galadriel will have her ring of power returned, even if Solas has some concerns about what it might do to her.

Drawing her closer is easy. Holding her is easy. The softness comes naturally when his feelings have grown to such depth, and he relaxes as he embraces her.

"I will make sure your trust is not misplaced," he whispers, voice soft. There is a moment between them, he thinks, something that he's not entirely sure he can trust, his voice thick with the emotion, but he nods his head, turning to leave a kiss on her hair. "You are dear to me as well, ma vhenan."