#it was fun because there are a lot of politics surrounding nuarehn's arrival that little viera is just absolutely oblivious to :)

[vivispec]

Falon

Viera swallowed then stuck out her tongue, waiting for the flavor to leave her mouth. All the while he looked at the toy in his hand, tapping the other, full of berries, against his chest to a rhythm she couldn't hear. Whether he wore a smile or a frown she couldn't quite say, but he wasn't crying anymore. Maybe she hadn't needed Fe'nathe to make it better after all.

to get back into writing after Big Burnout, I'm going to try and write a few of the fluffuary prompts. these will generally be pretty short and rough, but I got a bit carried away with this one—i had too much fun actually writing the different members of the clan i've only just referenced before! here's viera, my lavellan, meeting her childhood bestie for the first time <3

Fluffuary Day 1: First Meeting Viera & Nuarehn words: 3.5k tags: dalish living, childhood friends, spunky girl & shy boy, reference to period typical animal harm/death in the context of hunting

Viera had always been an early riser. Even before the girl could walk she'd awoken with the first stirrings of the sun as if its light energized her, and today had been no different. As soon as the night's final sentries had passed their watch on and the camp began to buzz with the activities of the young summer morning—the cooks starting water to boil, the halla let from their pen to graze, the hunters gathering their tools and setting out—she'd slipped from the tent where the other da'len still slept, rubbing sleep from her eyes.

But whereas most mornings she'd use the busyness of her older lethallen to her advantage, slipping from the outskirts of camp to find adventure in the woods nearby, she didn't hide away when Fe'nathe came looking for her. Instead, she sought out the hearthkeeper herself, and not the other way around.

There was much to be done today, and only so much time to finish it before her life would change—her hopes were high for the better.

It was nearly midday now, with the sun through the hide stretched above them casting the blanket where they rested in a warm glow, and the buzz of the camp around them now a proper bustle. She laid on her belly, feet kicking intermittently as she pushed, then pulled, then pushed again the bone needle in her hand, over and over. She paused, tilting her head. Then, her face scrunched up.

"Fe'nathe?"

"Yes, child."

"What's wrong with it?"

Absorbed as she was in her own project, it took a moment for the warm, brown eyes of the woman who'd taken to caring for Viera to find the girl's work. "It looks good," she said. "I'm sure he'll love it."

"But it's all lumpy. And the stitch isn't straight."

"It will be soft when he hugs it, and the seam will hold," she countered, returning her attention back to her hands. "That's all that will matter, you'll see."

Viera grumbled. "It doesn't look like anything." She pulled the string tight, and watched the fabric pinch. It had taken forever to make, a whole week that she could've been running and playing. Instead, she'd succeeded only in making something vaguely shaped like a nug. It wasn't supposed to be a nug.

The everyday chatter of the clan at work shifted subtly, and Viera looked up just as Fe'nathe did. Some continued on with little more than a glance, but others had left their spaces entirely, headed all in the same direction. "It seems to be time already—Creators, but I've barely finished."

Viera's eyes widened and heart leapt, her chagrin all but forgotten. "He's here?"

"It would appear so." Fe'nathe sighed, and set her supplies down. "I didn't make enough clothes, did I? What's here will have to do. And I meant to check in with Ebrin, see if he'd finished—Careful, da'len!"

The hearthkeeper's grip was quick for her wrist as Viera whirled wildly to her feet, wresting the needle from the girl's fingers in a deft motion. She looked back at her, eyes pleading for her release.

"Hahren, please, I can't wait anymore! I have to go!"

She squinted past the child and to the Keeper's aravel, a sigh escaping through her nose. "I suppose it can't be helped. I should give thanks I was able to hold your attention this long," she said, slackening just enough for Viera to wiggle free. "Alright, fine, I'll finish up here. Just don't overwhelm the poor boy. He's a year your younger, and likely scared near out of his wits."

"I promise," she cast over her shoulder, feet already well on their way across the camp's innermost clearing before she caught sense, and turned on her heels. "Ma serannas," she added, an afterthought chased by a barely heard response as she turned once more, and made for the commotion.

Viera raced between their bodies until the largest aravel was in sight, its sails flattened to a canopy and the flap of its entry still swaying. Her lethallen made a path for her to the crowd's edge, a border she'd have easily breached had it not been for the Keeper, catching the girl with a firm look and a halting gesture. Deshanna led a little boy, barely as high as her hip, by the shoulder. She craned to see him, face half-buried in the bag he clutched tight to his chest and eyes studying dutifully the ground, as their Keeper addressed those of the clan who'd gathered.

"As many of you know already, today we welcome a new lethallin to our clan. He has taken the name Nuarehn, and will join Athimien in his studies as my Second," she said, brow pinching as she swept the crowd. Her other hand returned to grip the boy, and Viera tilted her head to try and make sense of him—all she could see was a pair of dark and glistening eyes, tucked behind a curtain of raven black. "I trust you all—as well as those notably not present—will welcome him as family, even more so than you did me. He has come a long way."

There was chatter, some warm, some restrained. Viera, however, could barely hold herself back any longer. Without the Keeper's binding gaze upon her she bounded forward, leaning to catch his eye.

"I'm Viera'vun. Come on, I know where all the best—" Deshanna cleared her throat, and Viera straightened. "Aneth ara, Nuarehn. Do you want to play with me?"

He didn't respond, looking instead to the Keeper for an answer. For a moment she lingered on the sparse gathering, a hard set to the hard elder's brow; then she glanced down, and it softened as she found him, just a little. "Go," she bid, "she whirls like wind, but she is my blood. She'll treat you well."

"I found a clearing in the woods not far with a bunch of stumps, we can jump from one to the other—"

"Only to the hearths, ma da'fenlin." Though her voice was a stone wall, the palm that came to rest at Viera's jawline was warm, and the rough thumb running across her cheek gentle. "He'll be wanting for rest, after the journey he's made. Your adventures will wait for the morrow…and for a hearthkeeper to take you."

She stifled the beginnings of a whine in her throat. "Alright, Maela. We'll go to the hearths." Her arm shot out, a splayed invitation that Nuarehn recoiled from at first, until he got a leg up on his nerves and brushed the tips of her fingers with his own. She reached forward, grabbing his hand in full to pull him behind her.

"Follow me, I'll show you where we make our food. It's on the way, and if we're lucky the hunters will be coming back, and we can see what they caught," she said, with little space between thoughts. "I'm going to be a hunter soon, I'm already practicing. And I bet Ashala will give us berries, too! She's one of the cooks, she saves them for when da'len follow the rules, or when they make her laugh. I make her laugh a lot, but she'll give you some because you're new."

He didn't say much, but Viera didn't mind. She could talk enough for the both of them. As it was, she only paused long enough to breathe, and to cast a final smile back at her grandmother before they were past the tables of the craftsmen, and out of the Keeper's sight. There, her smile dug further into her cheeks, and she leaned in close. "This way," she whispered, before tugging him to the left. He stumbled, but continued to follow her lead without complaint. "Just a little peek, and then we'll go the hearths like she said. We don't even have to jump if you don't want to, but there's this big pine tree, and the branches make a tunnel—"

His weight behind her grew heavy, enough to nearly slow her to a stop. "What's wrong?" she asked, turning back to find his nose buried even further into his satchel. "It'll only be a look, I promise, and it isn't even that far from camp."

But he wasn't pulling out and away. If anything, his grasp on her hand had grown tighter. Viera felt a shadow over her then, some presence leaning above them both, and as she turned back to face forward the boy tucked himself behind her. The clear path ahead had been replaced by three squirrels hanging from a hip belt and a wall of woven leather, just barely stopping before she ran into them.

She trailed up to find Lasafel watching her with brow raised, adjusting the haul of rabbits he'd slung over his shoulder. "That didn't take long," he sniffed, and lowered them to the table. Ashala came to greet him, pulling fiery hair back from her face, and he gestured with his chin down to the both of them as he handed off his catch for her to tie up. "What was it, an hour? Two, before she pulled him into trouble?"

Ashala guffawed at that. "Try one minute. The Keeper's barely gotten eyes off the two." She wiped her hands on her apron before pressing them against the table's surface, and peering around Viera to get a better look at the newcomer. "Nuarehn's the pups name. Oh, would you just look at him? Skin and bones, but I'll fix that," she tut. "Aneth ara, da'len. This one's been talking about you all week. Careful, or you'll never be rid of her!"

"He won't need to be rid of me!" she puffed up, "We'll be the best of friends, and hunting partners too. Just like Lasafel, and Darageal."

"He's to be the Second, child," Darageal's deep voice added as she rounded Lasafel, "there won't be much time for hunting." Viera felt the press of Nuarehn's forehead against the blade of her shoulder as another set of eyes fell upon him—piercing eyes she'd been afraid of too, once, before she knew how gentle the person behind them could be. Still, she stood up just a bit straighter, to hide him from sight. "Where are you going?"

"I was just going to show him the clearing outside camp—"

"And what did your maela tell you?" Ashala asked.

"We were going to go straight to the hearths after that!" She focused all of her pleading on Lasafel, knowing he'd turned a blind eye to her antics on more than one occasion. "It was just for a peek, I mean it. Please?"

He looked up to his partner as Ashala snickered, his face twisting as he waited for her to take the reins. Darageal sighed. "Viera'vun, take a look at Nuarehn. How do you think he's feeling right now?"

Her eyes cast to her feet, before turning back towards him. She couldn't see so much as an inch of his face now, only the crown of his shiny black head. "He's scared," she muttered, feeling a twinge of guilt pierce through her chest.

"Exactly." The hunter unslung her own day's work, handing it off to Ashala as well. "Let's go, my mother will be wondering where you are. I'll take you to her."

Viera backed away, her body still a shield between them and Nuarehn. "No, it's okay. I'll show him the way," she assured, though the glances they exchanged remained skeptical. "He doesn't like so many strangers, I think. I promise this time, we'll go right there."

Darageal hesitated, before Lasafel shook his head. "Oh, come on now," he said, "it's a straight shot, you can see the fires from here. Just let them go, and scoop them back up later if she wanders off again."

"The girl's learned her lesson besides, I don't think I've ever seen the troublemaker so sheepish," Ashala bolstered, before digging a hand in the pocket of her apron. "Here, girl. I put something together for you two. If you can get him back here later, I'll have siumyhl for the both of you. Run along, now!"

Viera caught the pouch she tossed her way as it arced through the air, its weight dense and soft. "Ma serannas, Ashala!" Viera beamed, turning and pushing Nuarehn a few steps before taking his hand once again, and heading for the hearths in earnest this time.

"You'll be the one doing the 'scooping up'," Darageal muttered as they left, her voice growing softer with the distance until it was nearly gone, "and you'll be the one to tell my mother."

"Or, maybe, we go back out and follow those deer tracks, so it isn't our problem to deal with in the first place…"

Lasafel's response faded away into a murmur as Viera guided Nuarehn slower this time, walking at his side and not before him. Far off she heard arrows thunk into wooden targets, and one of the craftsmen nearby began again the hurried shk of scraping hide.

"You don't have to be scared of them. I know Ashala's loud and Darageal looks scary, but they're all really nice," she said, pulling the pouch they'd been given open wide, and offering him a piece. Nuarehn gently took it, staring at the deep red gifts bouncing in his palm. "See? She gave us dried berries to eat! Lasafel's amazing, too. I'm going to be just like him, someday."

He didn't bring the fruit to his mouth, clasping them instead in a fist hugged tight to the satchel he still hid behind. Still, his eyes roved the camp a bit more freely, now that it was just the two of them. She hoped that meant he liked her, maybe a little bit.

"I'm sorry that I made you scared, I didn't mean to. I just really, really wanted to show you something cool, so you'd want to play with me," she confessed. "I want to be your friend and go on adventures with you, but we don't have to. We can do different things together." Saying even only so much drew a weighty disappointment to try and drag her down, but she wouldn't let it ruin the only chance she had. "There aren't many other kids our age. Everyone's older, and too busy training now. Except Iloniyn, but he's mean and only plays with his brother. Even Ashala's son, Isedhul, is too busy cooking to play anymore."

She stopped as they came to the center of the camp, a clearing ringed by aravels and tents with a fire blazing at its heart. Fe'nathe was nowhere to be found—searching for the two of them, no doubt—but she'd left something important behind. Viera let go of Nuarehn's hand and bent down, pulling the bundle of cloth into her arms, unable to meet his eyes.

"Fe'nathe—she's a hearthkeeper, and she'll look after you like she looks after me—she helped me make this for you. Well, the present inside, the outside she made by herself. Here." She pushed it towards him a moment, before eyeing the bag still clasped in both of his hands and pulling it back. "Err, I guess I'll leave it, until you're ready to open it. Or I could open it for you, if you don't mind that."

His eyes flicked from her hands, and then back to her. After a moment he nodded, and Viera blinked hard. She'd been starting to wonder if her maela had been wrong about him knowing Common, with how little he'd reacted thus far. "Oh! I can open it? Okay, hold on, I'll just—"

Fe'nathe's gift, a beautiful purple wrap, fell away to the blanket. In its place Viera held a patchwork doll, made from what scraps she'd been able to get her hands on. "See? It's a baby halla, that's why it doesn't have horns," she said. "Did mamaela tell you she's from a different clan, too? She was lonely when she came. I thought you might be lonely, too."

It had coaxed him almost entirely out from his hiding spot now, lifting his free hand to push aside his bangs. His face was soft and round, his features wide, and he had beautiful eyes now that she could see them. Rich, like cedar. He reached for it, turning the toy over in one hand.

"Melydha—she takes care of the halla—even gave me a bit of the matriarch's horn to put in the middle, from their last shed. And it's halla wool inside too, so it'll be like you're hugging the halla, and—are you crying?"

His face was still soft, not all hard and scrunched like hers felt when she cried, yet down his cheek a trail glistened all the same. Viera lifted her hands, not sure what exactly there was for her to do. He'd faced down a multitude of strangers, nearly been dragged by her from the camp, and yet the gift she'd made to bring her new friend comfort was the very thing that had broken him into tears? It didn't make any sense.

From between the tents, she could hear Fe'nathe call her name. "Oh no, I'm sorry, I—" He blinked, then shook his head at her apology. "Wait right here, I'll go get Fe'nathe. She always knows how to make it better, she'll take care of you, alright?" Over and over he just kept shaking his head, and so she turned away. "I'll be right back, I'll—"

"Viera'vun," came a little, muffled voice, and then a sniffle, "ma serannas."

She whirled back towards him, mouth agape. It hadn't occurred to her that he could speak, too. By the time she'd turned back to look at him his face was buried once more, but the satchel he'd clasped so tightly had since dropped, hanging instead at his side. In its place was the halla that she'd made, his eyes peeking out from over its head as he hugged it tight. He sniffed, but he didn't look away.

"You like it?"

"Yes."

"It's really soft, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"What happened to the berries I handed you? Are they still in your hand?"

"No. I ate them."

"They're really sour, aren't they? They make my face pinch."

"Me too."

"Let's eat the rest. I'll show you my best faces, come here," Viera said, plopping down on the blanket with the pouch in her hands. He joined her after only a moment, grabbing a few berries and wrinkling his nose as he chewed on them. "And we can go back and get siumyhl later, too. Ashala makes it better than anybody."

"My clan…" He squeezed tighter and she was afraid he might start crying again, but he didn't. "My old clan makes it with honey and nuts."

"Our clan does that! I like mine with cream, too, and fruit, but not tart fruit like the berries. I like it with pears best." She grabbed a handful from the pouch. "Here, watch this," she said before shoving them all in her mouth. Her eyes watered, but she could've sworn she heard him giggle as her face contorted.

"I like pears," he hummed softly, "and strawberries."

Viera swallowed then stuck out her tongue, waiting for the flavor to leave her mouth. All the while he looked at the toy in his hand, tapping the other, full of berries, against his chest to a rhythm she couldn't hear. Whether he wore a smile or a frown she couldn't quite say, but he wasn't crying anymore. Maybe she hadn't needed Fe'nathe to make it better after all.

"Viera'vun?"

"You can call me Viera."

"Alright. Viera?"

"Yes, Nuarehn?"

"Do you want to be friends?"

Her laugh startled him. "I told you already, I really do!" She held out her pointer finger towards him, hooking it around his when he lifted his own and giving it a little shake. "We can be best friends, and do everything together. There are so many cool places I can show you, I even know how to get to the river on my own."

He wiggled where he sat. "Can you take me to get siumyhl from Ashala first?"

Before he'd so much as finished speaking Viera had bounced to her feet, bending low to tug him to his, too. "Of course. Ashala first, and then the clearing, and then the river—" she slowed to a stop when his eyes danced away, and his head began to bow again, "…or, maybe we do that tomorrow, and we just go to Ashala so Fe'nathe doesn't scold us."

"Alright," he said, and followed her lead.

She didn't even want to go exploring after, the sweets and halla milk made her want a nap instead, and by the time they both woke back up Fe'nathe had gathered a group by the fire to celebrate, and brought out the instruments to play. They danced instead, and ate good food, and were warm by the fire. And she heard Nuarehn laugh, and thought that it was the best laugh she'd ever heard, even better than Ashala's big, loud one.

It was hard waiting sometimes, especially when she was really, very excited, but she never regretted it when it was Rehn. He always came around eventually. The clearing, the river, the world would still be there when he was ready.

And adventures were always twice as fun, with her falon close behind.