bittenredtoo

[bittenredtoo]

"Slowly"

Summary:

Arthur was always awake before she was. A tangible shadow weaving between her dreams and reality as he kissed her goodbye and whispered honeyed words before leaving to wake the rest of the Hex. It was a piece of his time just for her, one she folded so carefully and kept in her pocket. A small moment they shared until they were alone together again and she could give him her time in return. And yet, this morning he kept himself close to her.

Notes:

Rated M Established Relationship | Idiots in Love | Emotions | Fluff | Mild Sexual Content | No actual sex | They've got WORK TO DO

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Mornings in Hollvania seemed to always be marked with a special undertone of stillness. A quiet which painted the city’s canvas in thick layers of sleep and tranquil secrets. It made the fog appear almost peaceful - serene - before the sun came out to illuminate the war and techrot still digging its claws down cobbled roads. But, the sun always seemed to rise slowly. A small mercy, she realized, for those still wishing to pretend the world didn’t exist outside their window.

Duviri never had such slow mornings. In fact, when she thought back on it, she wondered if Duviri had any mornings at all, time feeling like a single stroke of muddied paint dripping heavily on certain points and not enough on others. If there was ever a moment taken for herself, it certainly wasn’t used to feel groggy or dazed waiting for her consciousness to settle back into her body, bones creaking like a half oiled machine.

And she never would have expected to spend such a moment in the arms of another person.

Behind her, Arthur’s breath kissed the skin of her shoulder gently, his arms holding her with a comfortable protectiveness that made her sigh in appreciation. She found she enjoyed having him like this, legs tangled and the rhythm of his heart beating in time with her own. It always felt so easy to fit herself within the jagged edges of his person. Almost as easy as it was for him to fit within hers.

But, between the pleasant silence and sheltered darkness that still lingered in the backroom of Hollvania’s mall, a nagging thought began to prick the corners of her mind.

Arthur was always awake before she was. A tangible shadow weaving between her dreams and reality as he kissed her goodbye and whispered honeyed words before leaving to wake the rest of the Hex. It was a piece of his time just for her, one she folded so carefully and kept in her pocket. A small moment they shared until they were alone together again and she could give him her time in return.

And yet, this morning he kept himself close to her, breathing her in and settling his weight so readily against her she wondered for a second if she’d actually woken up at an unfortunate hour. Slowly, she lifted her head, one eye opening lazily to catch the time that was displayed on the little analog device by their bed.

05:37

Over a half hour later than their usual time.

“Arthur.” She mumbled as she wiped a hand over her eyes, doing her best to adjust herself beyond her languid mind. When her partner made no attempt at responding to her, though, she shook his arm over her midriff curtly, “Arthur.”

At that a groan crept up from deep within his chest, the sound rumbling against her back as he tightened his hold on her and buried his face further in her hair.

“No.” His voice was thick and heavy with sleep, making gooseflesh prick her skin as his added warmth lingered around her welcomingly.

Still, she pressed on as best as she could, “Arthur, we need to get up.”

“No.”

“We’re running late.”

“Five more minutes.”

She couldn’t help but huff in exasperation, a smile sneaking onto her face in the dark at his difficulty.

“We’ve given ourselves thirty-seven…no now thirty-eight extra minutes. If we wait any longer, Quincy’s going to start having ideas and making jokes with the others.”

“Let him say whatever he wants.” Arthur whispered against her neck, his lips beginning to plant small seeds of affection along her skin, “I honestly don’t care much about his opinion right now.”

She sighed comfortably within his attention. Reaching back, she thread her fingers in his hair, deceitfully encouraging despite her words, “Yeah, well you’re not the one who has to spend the day on scouting missions with him.”

“I’ll put you on mercy runs with Amir instead then.”

“Arthur.”

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[bittenredtoo]

"Quiet"

Summary:

How easy it was for her to fall back into that Fade prison when everything was too quiet.

Notes:

Rated M Established Relationship | Dissociation | Emotions | Vaginal Sex | some depictions of trauma? | Rook and Lucanis are both very tired after fighting literal GODS

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Treviso was never a silent city. She whispered her secrets through the air, letting them ride on the small waves that licked the brick lining of the canals and the soft mist that lay upon the flowers in gardens. She tantalized the tongues of gossips and betrayers as they moved past her riddled walls or flew down ziplines, a strange buzz of excitement constantly permeating the air as the citizens wondered what might touch their existence this time. Another assassination? A corrupt politician? A limited time sale on the spices imported from Orlais?

Rook used to know her city’s secrets well. A quiet comfort as she snuck away from Viago and Heir’s relentless teachings to sit on high roofs and count the number of lights that blinked throughout the markets, pretending they were stars.

Nowadays, however, Treviso felt almost…Tranquil.

She couldn’t remember how long it was since she was last allowed to stay and sleep in her city - Six months? Ten? Sixteen? - nor did she know for sure whether or not she was truly welcomed back. But, as Rook lay in one of the many over extravagant beds in House Dellamorte, she felt as though her skin was being stretched too tight.

Life in the Fade made the stillness of an unnatural quiet seem almost pleasant to her. It never dulled her mind or her intuition. In fact, Rook would’ve wagered that her senses felt all the more sharper when she was in the Lighthouse, her own soul becoming attuned to every particle that made up the building they considered - even for a short time - home.

But now, she could still feel the sting of her heart the day it bled on Tearstone Island, the muscles of her memory barely piecing together what had happened when she was finally free from Solas’s mental prison. It left her feeling disoriented and soft, her form a little fuzzy around the edges as if her soul was no longer tightly tethered to her body.

There were times lately where Rook could even forget she had a body, the lull moments between missions and deals with the Shadow Dragons catching her staring at a wall far longer than what was normal until her body whined about her posture. And even then, she found herself unmoving, her vision becoming unfocused as her mind seeped out of her form like a dry leaf running along a stream of water, shrouding her own physical manifestation from herself.

Perhaps this was how Solas felt when he was nothing more than a spirit watching the world. A small fragment of creation interwoven within the fabric of time and magic.

It left a bitter taste in her mouth, remembering him. And yet, how easy it was to find herself in his shadow.

How easy it was for her to fall back into that Fade prison when everything was too quiet.

She rubbed her thumb and forefinger together mindlessly, eyes wide as she stared at some unknown shape in the darkness of the room. The moonlight outside the window illuminated the wall just enough to paint the small shadows of raindrops sliding down the glass. Though, Rook could barely hear any of them. She found herself drifting someplace underwater, the seams of her presence loose at best. The room around her felt muffled and blurry as if she didn’t quite fit in this space she shared with someone.

It is here when she’s riding along the edge of drowning that the door suddenly opened. The candles in the hallway had dimmed and halved themselves since they were lit in the evening, but still the light cut into the darkness like a knife carving through the veil, an all too familiar image which made a small part of her body tense severely. The warmth that followed the light, however, was completely new and the familiarity of the silhouette that stood at the threshold made Rook breathe a small sigh of relief.

Him.

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