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baoshan-sanren · 4 years

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Chapter 42

of the wwx emperor au that’s back to being called Emperor Wei WuXian And His Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Birthday

The summons come while the sky is still dark.

WangJi had woken with a tight sense of foreboding lodged in his chest, alert and on guard the moment his eyes had opened in the pre-dawn gloom. The events of the day before had certainly disturbed his equilibrium to such an extent that the anxiety and the trepidation do not seem out of the ordinary. The air is heavy in the Imperial guest chambers, weighed down with uncle’s disappointment and XiChen’s silent misery; in such an environment, it is difficult to trust one’s own instincts.

WangJi does not try. He moves though his morning routine as unobtrusively as possible, refraining from any unsolicited observations.

XiChen had not slept. If uncle had managed to sleep, no such thing can be garnered from the deep shadows under his eyes.

The small flame of joy in WangJi’s chest, so bright and unrestrained the day before, is now layered with bitter guilt. He has always experienced all of his happiness and misery with XiChen. They have always shared their burdens equally. It feels a betrayal, that this is a burden WangJi cannot make lighter for his brother, that he is powerless over the way their paths have diverged.

It is almost a relief, to have the heavy silence interrupted, to have something else to focus on for the time being.

The Imperial summons are for WangJi alone. Wei Ying is unpredictable in this respect; it is difficult to tell if he intends to sneak out of the Immortal Mountain again, propose for the second time, or if he simply wishes to have company with his morning tea. Nie ZongHui does not offer a reason for the summons, and WangJi does not ask. Still, the moment he steps out into the hall, his sense of foreboding increases.

The Imperial guest chambers have been heavily guarded from the moment the Lan Sect had taken up residence. However, the number of the guards had increased throughout the night, unnoticed by those within. Now, dozens of them stand shoulder to shoulder, forming an impenetrable wall outside the receiving hall.

Even more alarming is the fact that WangJi’s escort consists of thirty men, a mix of Nie Sect members and Imperial guards, all personally headed by the Lieutenant General of the Emperor’s army. The Emperor himself is rarely ever seen with such an excessive escort, especially within his own palace halls. It is slightly absurd, being surrounded by so many armed men, that they can barely fit through the palace halls without tangling in each other’s scabbards. The size of such an escort would suggest that their destination is some distance away, but hardly any time passes at all before he finds himself back in front of the doors to the Emperor’s personal study.

Immediately, he is both concerned and frustrated. If Wei Ying has summoned him before sunrise, with such an obnoxious escort, only to propose again, after he had promised to give WangJi time--

“Lan Zhan!”

The exasperation bleeds away in a hurry. Although it is difficult to pay attention to anything with Wei Ying’s bright smile turned his way, there are other people present in the Emperor’s personal study, each one a sharp reminder of WangJi’s current ambiguity of position.

He is not yet betrothed. Even if he were, the level of familiarity he has displayed when alone with the Emperor will certainly not be seen as appropriate. He knows that kneeling will make Wei Ying unhappy, so he settles for a compromise; a bow, and a polite greeting.

“Your Majesty.”

He does not quite manage to complete the bow before Wei Ying has his forearms in a tight grip, and is tugging him forward.

“Do not address me so Lan Zhan, everyone present is family. You have met my uncle XingChen and Song Lan.”

Being pulled into the circle of people he hardly knows is more than a little discomforting. Song Lan is coldly polite, but the Rogue Prince, the person WangJi had actually offended, smiles in a warm greeting, for the first time displaying some physical resemblance to his nephew.

“I know you have met Jiang Cheng and my Royal Companion as well.”

Jiang WanYin looks distinctly unhappy to see him.

Nie HuaiSang does not. He looks... half-asleep, and at best, disinterested in WangJi’s presence.

“I do not believe you have officially met Wen Qing.”

The day they were supposed to meet, the day WangJi had come upon Wei Ying covered in dirt, with a child on his hip, seems to have occurred decades ago.

WangJi bows, “Lady Wen.”

It is difficult to tell from her expression whether she approves or disapproves of him being present among the people Wei Ying had claimed as family, but WangJi has a clear impression that her approval is not something which can be easily obtained.

“Shijie should be here,” Wei Ying says, “but she had pressing business to attend to in the dungeons.”

Jiang WanYin snorts at that, but no one bothers to elaborate on the subject.

“Can we get on with this?” Nie HuaiSang says, “I would like to nap before the Gifting Ceremony.”

“You mean, you would like an opportunity to riffle through all the gifts before they are presented,” Jiang WanYin says.

He sounds irritable and cross. There is something defensive about his posture, the folded arms, the tightness around his mouth. WangJi does not know Jiang WanYin well, and cannot discern if this defensiveness is an ordinary occurrence, or a specific response to his own presence.

“I have already done so, yesterday,” Nie HuaiSang says, “so the joke is on you. By the way,” he turns to Wei Ying, “the set of jade hair ornaments from the LaoLing Qin are mine. They would look terrible with your complexion.”

Wen Qing and Jiang WanYin both roll their eyes at the same time. They do not seem aware that they have done so, as they appear to be taking particular care not to look in each other’s direction.

“We have the same complexion,” Wei Ying says.

Nie HuaiSang snorts, “Not even on your best day.”

“I have work to do today,” Wen Qing snaps, “can we focus on why we are here?”

A silence falls, one in which WangJi feels uncomfortably out of place. He is the only person who does not know why they are all gathered in the Emperor’s personal study, and he cannot help but wonder if he will ever feel a sense of belonging among the people Wei Ying considers his family. It is discouraging to think that he may always remain an unwelcome stranger, even once the marriage takes place.

“Second Young Master,” the Rogue Prince finally says, “You were perfectly correct in your assumption two days ago, and more than justified in your reproof. The man we are hunting is in the Immortal Mountain, and likely has been, all along.”

WangJi is not surprised. The thirty guards provided as an escort, just so WangJi could cross the length of the Jade Sword Palace, already implied the existence of some imminent threat.

It is somewhat of a relief, however, to have a rational explanation for his lingering sense of foreboding.

“The two servants connected with your attempted poisoning were killed by the same man,” Song Lan adds, “and it is possible that the attempt on the Emperor’s life, two days later, was also his work.”

“You are certain it is a man,” WangJi asks.

“We think it is a Jin Sect disciple,” Nie HuaiSang says, “Specifically one of these three Jin Sect disciples.”

The small piece of paper he passes to WangJi looks to have been folded up tightly, numerous times, by numerous hands. The three names appear unfamiliar at the first glance. Two carry the Jin name, but the third does not.

“Jin ZiXun,” he says, “is the Jin disciple who accused my brother of poisoning the Fan Sect Leader.”

“Jin ZiXun is not the one we want,” Nie HuaiSang says dismissively.

“You cannot be sure of that,” Jiang WanYin says, his tone quarrelsome.

“Jin ZiXun is clearly too stupid to commit mass murder, and not be caught in the process,” Nie HuaiSang counters.

“He must be an accomplice, at the very least.”

“He is too stupid to be an accomplice.”

“Okay!” Wei Ying says, “You have both had this argument three times now. Let us just-- move on.”

“We do not think that the Emperor is his target,” Song Lan says, as if Nie HuaiSang and Jiang WanYin had not spoken, “We believe that he is at the Immortal Mountain specifically because it provides him an easy access to a Sect that is fully removed from the public presence at all other times of the year.”

This does come as a surprise.

It had not been so difficult to believe that a hired assassin, or a random cultivator with a grudge, may be targeting the Lan Sect. But to be a target of a person who has collected the resentful energy from more than three hundred corpses seems preposterous in both theory, and in practice. WangJi cannot begin to guess what would motivate such a man to specifically attack the Lan Sect over any other.

“What none of them are brave enough to ask,” Wen Qing says impatiently, “is the Lan Sect’s history when it comes to the use of resentful energy.”

WangJi feels himself stiffen at the implication. Perhaps she did not mean to sound accusing, but it is difficult to hear the words in any other context.

Before he can respond, Wei Ying’s fingers are wrapping around his wrist, his body shifting slightly so his shoulder is in front of WangJi’s own. It is a small movement, barely half of a step. And yet, the intention is clear, and the result indisputable.

Wei Ying is shielding him. From those he had, only moments ago, referred to as his family.

The defensive armor that WangJi dons so easily, as familiar as his own skin, melts away at the gesture. It leaves behind a hot, dry lump in his throat, one he cannot seem to properly breathe around.

“We have had this argument three times as well,” Wei Ying says, his voice hard, “The Lan Sect is clearly a victim.”

“Yes, but why,” Nie HuaiSang says, seemingly unbothered by Wei Ying’s gesture and tone, “Why focus on the Lan Sect?”

“A madman does not need a reason,” Jiang WanYin says.

WangJi wonders if Jiang WanYin would resort to explicitly defending the Lan Sect for no other reason than to be as contrary as possible.

“I do not believe that we can assume him to be a madman,” XingChen says gently, “His actions so far, the way his victims are chosen, his behavior here at the Immortal Mountain, it all points to a highly organized individual, one who carefully plans each step before execution.”

“A madman cannot be organized?” Wei Ying says, and Nie HuaiSang shoots him a look which seems to imply that Wei Ying is being intentionally dense.

“The point is,” Nie HuaiSang says slowly, “he has not chosen the Lan Sect on a whim. There is a purpose in his focus.”

“A member of the Lan Sect murdered the rightful ruler of the Shan Empire, and her Consort, all because her distant relative, long dead, had used resentful energy,” Jiang WanYin says impatiently, “I would think, out of all the Sects, they would be the least likely to meddle in this type of cultivation.”

He may be right, but his defense somehow sounds both like censure and an accusation.

In the next moment, Nie HuaiSang’s fan meets Jiang WanYin’s shoulder hard enough to make him wince.

“Do not be crass,” the boy says coldly, “Frustration is no excuse for incivility.”

“The Lan Sect is particularly skilled in dispelling resentful energy,” the Rogue Prince says, “I suppose it is possible that this individual sees them as a threat to his plans.”

“The Lan Sect also has a few hundred cultivators and disciples, all in possession of this particular skill,” Wen Qing counters, “Killing three of them would hardly make a difference.”

“But it is unlikely that any three together could equal the power and skill of the current Sect Leader and his two top disciples,” Song Lan says.

All eyes now turn on WangJi, as if expecting him to deny or confirm the assertion.

Still reeling from the fact that Jiang WanYin, of all people, had felt the need to come to his defense, WangJi needs a few moments to consider the question.

“I am less skilled than my uncle or my brother,” he finally says, “Among the rest, only my father, two of the Sect Elders, and Lan HanLi have an equal, or greater ability. None of those we brought to the Immortal Mountain can be considered particularly proficient or powerful.”

Everyone seems to consider this in silence, forming their own conclusions.

Wei Ying’s hand is still wrapped around WangJi’s wrist. The gesture should be awkward in front of so many witnesses, but instead, it is a soothing, grounding contact that WangJi does not want to relinquish.

He wonders at the power of Wei Ying’s touch, to instill in him a sense of comfort even among strangers.

“I still do not see why we cannot simply arrest all three of them, stuff them into the dungeon, and get a confession through torture,” Jiang WanYin says irritably.

“Because two of them could be completely innocent,” Wen Qing retorts, sounding equally as irritable.

“Is anyone really innocent?” Nie HuaiSang says.

“Certainly not you,” Wei Ying quips.

“You were never innocent,” Wen Qing says.

Nie HuaiSang’s smile, hidden behind the fan, is only evident by a slight crinkling in the corners of his eyes.

Song Lan sighs, rubbing his forehead, “XingChen and I believe that this individual’s last attempt to eliminate the Lan Sect must be tonight. The sects and clans are all due to depart tomorrow, and despite the recent... development,” his eyes slide off WangJi, “there has been no indication that the Lan Sect plans to remain at the Immortal Mountain. The seventh day banquet is traditionally a much more... unrestrained event than any of the others, likely to result in drunken fights and unseemly indiscretions. We think the individual will try and use the revelry as a cover.”

“We want you to be the bait,” Jiang WanYin cuts in bluntly.

“No,” Wei Ying says, his voice hard, “We have discussed this already, and the answer is no.”

“It is not up to you,” XingChen says kindly, “This person has repeatedly attacked the Lan Sect. Whether they have a hand in his capture is entirely their choice.”

Wei Ying does not seem to realize that his hand around WangJi’s wrist has tightened to the point of pain.

“Wei Ying,” he says, fighting the urge to pull his hand back, “I am willing.”

“I will not put your family at risk again.”

“We will not be at risk. You will protect us.”

Wei Ying flinches, whirling to face WangJi, his eyes wide and lost, “How can you say that? I have done a terrible job protecting you.”

It is absurd, that he can be so sweetly endearing, and at the same time, so utterly maddening. WangJi is not sure if he would like to kiss him, or kick him. Perhaps both.

“All three of us are alive and unharmed. You have done nothing but protect us from the moment we had arrived at the Immortal Mountain. I trust you.”

Wonder of all wonders, he seems to have found a combination of words that will render Wei Ying speechless. His mouth is still moving, because he is Wei Ying, and apparently incapable of being speechless with his mouth shut, but no sounds are forthcoming.

Everyone else, however, is beginning to look noticeably uncomfortable in their presence.

Jiang WanYin, his expression sour, is the first to break the silence, “Ugh. Are we done?”

Nie HuaiSang smacks him on the shoulder again, “Why do you have to ruin the moment?”

“I do not want to see any moments. I want to finish this discussion, then leave.”

“I second that,” Wen Qing says.

“I will be the bait,” WangJi says firmly, ignoring the fact that his face feels uncomfortably hot, “Along with my uncle and brother.”

“Excellent,” Song Lan says, “We will meet again after the Gifting Ceremony to discuss the particulars.”

Apparently, he is in a hurry to leave as well, because he does not waste time tugging the Rogue Prince towards the exit. Jiang WanYin practically tramples Song Lan’s heels, and Wen Qing is only a step behind him.

Nie HuaiSang is the only one who feels the need to take his time, and although his grin is wide and knowing, WangJi feels little resentment.

He does not know how to erase this silly, speechless expression from Wei Ying’s face, but he will start his attempt with kissing, and decide the rest depending on the progress he makes.

#the untamed #cql #mdzs #ficlet #m #wwx emperor au #2-3 chapters more to go before the epilogue(s)#i don't wanna know the word count on this thing #ily chickens

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artificialqueens · 6 years

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Between Land And Sea (Biadore) - Albatross

AN: Alright Merry fucking Christmas. I have no self-control apparently and cannot wait until the new year to share this fic.

I will freely admit that I have very limited knowledge of any mythology other than Greek but an assortment of tumblr posts I found at 2 AM plus waiting over half an hour to see a doctor compelled me to write this stupid fucking story. To anyone who is actually familiar with Selkies; I am very sorry for how much I probably fucked up their mythology/lore.

Well, she’s really done it now.

She’s torn her fucking coat…again. And not just a minor tear like last time, that would have been fine, expected even. Selkies often have little nicks, worn edges, or small holes in their coats.

No, this was a huge fucking rip straight up her sleeve because once again, she fucked up during her transformation! She still had yet to find the perfect time and location to change into her human form while entering the shallows near the beach. It always turned into a guessing game for her of where the water was still deep enough that she could enter the natural harbor without being spotted yet still close enough to the shoreline to seem plausible she was just a local out for an ordinary swim. The general rule of thumb was to wait until the rocky sea bottom had disappeared beneath the sandy floor near water line and begin the transformation about 50 feet or so beyond that point. But Adore, being her usual overexcited self, was all too eager to see the beaches once more and failed to notice a few scattered rocks jutting up from the sea bed until it was much too late. Her coat scraped against and quickly caught on one of the jagged edges and ripped a hole from just below the elbow of the sleeve all the way down to the bottom hem.

Now here she was sitting alone on the secluded beach in her soaking wet coat trying to hold back a flood of tears caused by her own foolishness. She had little doubt she’d be teased and scolded mercilessly for weeks to come but that wasn’t what bothered her, she could easily deal with that. What upset her the most was the hit she had taken to her pride and of course, the damaged coat. Thanks to her carelessness, she was now going to have to live with this tear for the rest of her life as a constant reminder every time she transformed.

And transforming was something she certainly did on a regular basis…her favorite pastime was to walk along the beach and just watch the nature in full force all around her. She loved the roll of waves hitting the shoreline, the growing power of a storm as it closed in on the town and of course she loved watching all the humans scurrying about and frolicking in the sand.

She was always careful to enter the bay near the farthest end of the coast, well beyond where most would think of going near. There was a collection of clothes she hidden amongst the rocks above the waterline, mostly bathing suits like the ones she’d seen other women wear and some ‘street clothes’ as she heard them being called for when she wanted to wander into town. They’d all been either found floating amongst the waves or in some cases stolen from unguarded bags. She wasn’t particularly fond of using that last method but for a few articles like shoes, it had been necessary, especially if she wanted to walk around the humans undetected.

As much as she loved her life under the sea, humans were equally fascinating to her, their clothes in particular. They had countless styles of clothing to choose from, never stuck with just one coat unless they chose to be. They could change or alter their outfits as often as they wanted to; they could be flamboyant and flashy or casual and laid back depending on their given mood. She envied that kind of freedom sometimes…particularly right now.

This was her one, special coat. The one imbued with the power to allow her to transform from her aquatic shape into a wholly human one. There would never be another one like it for her; each Selkie only ever had one in their life and it was their responsibility to take care of it. So many had become trapped on the surface due to naivety or random accidents. Though this event wasn’t the end of the world for her, it felt pretty close to it. Yes, she could still transform but still the coat was permanently damaged and there was no way for it to be repaired. It was all she could do right now to force down the hot tears welling in her eyes as she lamented her stupid mistake. She was barely able to dress herself in the spare clothing before she focused all of her attention on examining the extent of the damage.

She was so lost in her own misery that she missed the sound of approaching footsteps coming up behind her. It wasn’t something she’d have expected, not so far from the public beach, but the appearance of a hand on her shoulder jolted her from her head space with a startled gasp.

“Hey, kid, are you okay?”

The voice wasn’t the most friendly she’d heard but it sounded genuinely concerned. Reluctantly turning her head up, she found an older woman kneeling down beside her, brows furrowed as she awaited a response. Adore felt a fresh wave of tears beginning to pool in her eyes as she lifted the arm of her coat up to expose the torn sleeve to the stranger’s line of sight.

“Oh,” seemed to be all they could say in response.

Adore knew to an outsider she probably looked ridiculous sitting there in her drenched clothing and staring tragically at the ripped sleeve as though it were an entire limb torn off instead of a piece of fabric but she didn’t care. No human could be expected to understand just how much this coat meant to her. How much it would mean to any Selkie.

She expected the older woman to leave soon after. She wasn’t hurt after all, just had a piece of ripped clothing to their mind yet instead of walking away, the woman offered her hand as soon as she had stood up. Adore stared at it dumbfounded for moment, the thoughts of how wrong this situation could go in a very short amount of time raced through her head but something deep inside her compelled her to accept the offer.

Very cautiously, she allowed the woman to lead her on a five minute walk to a parking lot up towards the opposite end of the beach. She remained hesitant and alert but the fact that she was around people eased some of her fears. She doubted the woman would try anything suspicious or unsavory in a public space.

Upon reaching the car, the mystery woman popped open the trunk and withdrew a simple canvass bag that had been pushed towards the back. Riffling through the miscellaneous contents, she seemed to be searching for something that managed to allude her grasp for quite some time. Adore was curious as to what this stranger could be looking for and peered over her shoulder hoping for some kind of clue.

As soon as she heard a pleased noise escape past the woman’s lips, she took a step back to give her some space. Holding what appeared to be a small and cheap plastic box in one hand, the older woman held out her other one expectantly. Adore blinked in confusion as to what she was asking for and nearly winced as the woman expressively rolled her eyes.

“Your coat, kid,” she said bluntly, “Hand it over.”

Instinctively she clutched the clothing close to her body and drew back from the woman. Her legs and arms were trembling as she defiantly shook her head and darted her eyes towards the beach looking for the easiest escape route. Taking note of the reaction, the stranger tried a different tactic to soothe the young woman’s growing fear.

“Hey, relax, I’m not gonna hurt you. I’m just going to fix that tear.”

Adore eyed her suspiciously as she refused to move a muscle. She’d heard similar stories of humans tricking Selkies out of their coats for one reason or another and she was determined not to become another one. Steeling herself for a mad dash to ocean, she was almost ready to begin running when the woman made one final time to calm her down.

“Look, you don’t have to take it off if you don’t want to, I can still sew up the sleeve while you’re wearing it, okay?”

The statement gave Adore a moment’s pause as she mused over what would be the right choice. More than anything she wanted her coat fixed and if this stranger was offering assistance…maybe it might be worth it? She wasn’t demanding Adore take off the coat so perhaps her secret was still safe.

Debating for a few seconds longer, Adore gave a tense swallow and extended her shaking arm. Her mind remained hyper-vigilant as she watched the woman open the small box to reveal a travel-sized sewing kit and pull out a needle and small spool of thread. The color wouldn’t exactly match her coat but she couldn’t afford to be picky at this point, not when it genuinely seemed like this woman had the ability to repair the damage.

Deftly threading the needle, the woman stepped closer to Adore and began her work of closing the gaping hole. With a hint of nervousness in her tone, she muttered, “Just don’t blame me if you get twitchy and find a needle stabbed into your arm.”

Unseen by the woman solely focused on her task, Adore gave a firm nod and watched in a fascinated state of disbelief as the hole began to disappear right in front of her eyes. By the time it was closed, Adore could hardly contain her joy. There was hardly a seam to be noticed and the mismatched thread gave nothing away unless you turned the sleeve inside out to reveal it. This woman was like some kind of miracle worker in Adore’s mind.

Feeling a tensing in her throat as her vision began to cloud, the younger woman began gratefully, “Thank you so much! You have no idea-”

“Hey, don’t worry about it, kid,” her savior interrupted, clearly embarrassed by the reaction. “It’s an easy fix.”

Adore was biting her lower lip to keep from saying anything too revealing. She was so close to spilling her secret in front of this human but she just felt so happy and relieved. Nothing could stop her wide smile from overtaking her face though. The older woman darted her eyes away as Adore thanked her one more time. Rummaging through a side pocket on the bag, the woman pulled out a small rectangle of stiff paper and handed it to the dripping Selkie.

“Listen, if this happens again…just come to this address, okay?”

It was almost gruff the way she said it but it was obvious that she had meant it in the nicest way possible. Adore found it to be oddly reassuring. Still overjoyed by the turn of events, she kept her bright smile firmly in place even as she returned back to the sea later that night. The mystery woman had excused herself shortly after fixing the damage but Adore waited in the parking lot until her car had disappeared from sight. Every so often her gaze would return to the sleeve and she’d run her fingers along the previous damage just to remind herself it was there. No one seemed to notice anything unusual once she returned to her family and for that she was relieved. She certainly would be more cautious moving forward but part of her was a little bit grateful the whole situation had unfolded. It was nice change of pace to meet someone so kind, even if they were a bit brusque.

She never mentioned what had happened to anyone, not even her closest friends. But every so often she found herself wishing she could see that woman again just to thank her one more time. The business card had been kept with her clothing at the beach and she took special care to make sure it remained safe and dry just in case…and besides; it was a nice memento even if she never thought she’d have to use it again.

But like fate taking a hand, Adore found herself in a similar situation just a few months later. This time blame could solely be placed on humans and the fucking trash they’ve let fall into the ocean. She wasn’t entirely sure what had caused the damage, it certainly had been made of metal, but by the time she realized what had happened she so far beyond the debris that it was unrecognizable which piece had caused the damage. And it’s not like finding out would fix it either.

No…

There wasn’t much point dwelling on it, the damage had already been done. But maybe…it could be fixed…that woman had said to stop by if she ever tore her coat again…perhaps she could repair this hole as well. It wasn’t nearly as bad as the first instance…But how to find her?

She couldn’t make out what was on the card, she had never learned how to read in their language, only to speak it but with the help of a few friendly faces on the street; she was pointed in the direction of a small shop just outside the center of the town. It was cozy, Adore had to admit. It wasn’t like the sea she was used to; the air was warm as soon as she entered and the room almost blindingly bright but it felt comfortable.

A bell sounded as soon as she stepped beyond the door frame and shortly after a voice resonated from the back room, “I’ll be out in a minute!”

She recognized the gruff tone and felt a small smile tug at the corner of her lips. A small surge of pride welled in her chest at having found the right shop on her first try. She just hoped that what she had to offer would be enough.

In just a few short seconds, the woman burst into the main shop with her eyes focused solely on the article of clothing she was currently repairing. Stopping just behind the counter, she glanced up from her work and let out a small noise of surprise. Her eyes were just a tad wide as she stated, “Oh! You again.”

Fiddling with the bottom hem of her coat, Adore mumbled nervously, “Uh, yeah. I, um…see?”

The woman’s brow arched as she gave Adore a studious once over before settling her gaze on the small tear that the young Selkie’s hands were currently playing with.

“Mm…Come around the counter,” she stated as she motioned for Adore to come closer.

The young brunette felt her heart beginning to beat faster in her chest as she complied to the request. Once she was within range, the older woman dropped to her knees in order to take a more thorough look at the damage. Pivoting herself just slightly, the woman reached her hand into one of the shelves behind the counter and fished out a small pin cushion containing several needles threaded with varying colors leftover from previous projects. Selecting the closest match, the seamstress made quick work of closing the gap with as much skill as she had exercised all those months ago. In very little time at all Adore’s coat looked just like new to her ever increasing jubilation.

“There. Should be good to go now,” the older woman declared as she pushed herself to her feet.

“Thanks…” Adore exclaimed gratefully.

Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out a piece of paper she had often seen humans exchanging amongst themselves. Occasionally she found these objects floating in the water and made it a point to collect them. Hopefully something she had brought with her would be what she needed to pay for this woman’s services.

“Is this enough?” she asked timidly as she held out the note to the seamstress. The older woman looked at the waterlogged paper with a mixture of confusion and amusement. Realizing that might not be the right currency to use, she apologized, “Sorry, was that wrong?”

Withdrawing another slip of paper from her pocket, she offered it instead with an unsure, “Um, here? Is this-”

A quick glace to the woman’s pitying eyes as she struggled not to laugh confirmed that she still didn’t have it right. The only other item she could offer was a small gold coin she had found laying on the sea floor. Holding it out in her extended hand, she stated guiltily, “I’m sorry, that’s…That’s all I have with me.”

With the final offer, the serious demeanor the woman was desperately trying to hold together finally cracked as she laughed out, “I’m not taking your money!”

“Wha-Why?” Adore asked in confusion. Humans always seemed to want more money, that’s what she heard any way.

“It was just a simple fix…” the woman explained patiently. “No need to charge you for it. I barely spent more than three minutes on it.”

Almost frantically, Adore insisted, “There’s gotta be something I can give you!…This coat, it means a lot to me, you know?”

Taking pity on the worked up woman in front of her, the seamstress gave in with a simple, “Just tell me your name, kid. That’s all I want from you.”

“Adore,” she replied with a shy smile.

“Well, I’m Bianca…” the woman stated as she returned a teasing grin of her own. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, too.”

***************

That wasn’t the last time Adore saw Bianca, far from it. Occasionally as Adore swam in the ocean she’d see the seamstress walking along the beaches, always alone and lost in thought. She never quite dared to approach her, either in her seal form or human one. She was content just to watch the woman from afar as she travel the same route up and down the coastline.

Part of her longed to speak with the older woman again so when she found yet another small hole, this time from regular wear and tear, she took it as a sign to go see her mysterious savior again. The meeting was very brief and once more Adore tried to offer her something in exchange for the repair but Biance refused to accept any of her money. It was comforting that she didn’t seem concerned with any kind of payment but Adore felt that she more than deserved it, even if she had no clue exactly what she fixing.

But Bianca was firm; she didn’t want any money. The only thing she was interested in was making a few cautious inquiries with the girl. Adore kept her answers vague and thankfully the seamstress never seemed to ask anything too personal; just simple questions like what she did for fun, did she have family nearby, and of course what she liked to eat.

Adore answered as honestly as she could and left the shop with another happy grin. It was hardly another month before the returned with yet another small tear she may or may not have ripped just a tad wider in order to justify another visit to her human friend.

Upon entering the cozy little building, Adore found Bianca working behind the counter as per usual and asked with a shy smile, “Do you think you could maybe…?”

Bianca gave her a mild scolding look and a quick roll of the eyes as she motioned for the young woman to come closer. Though she might be acting as though she were annoyed by Adore’s clumsiness, there was still a small smile on her lips. As she worked, taking a bit more time than usual as Adore noticed, she said offhandedly, “You don’t have to keep coming by just for this…”

Adore faltered in her response, concerned she might have actually irritated the woman with her frequent visits. She bit her lower lip to hide the trembling but nothing could stop her eyes from growing wide with guilt. Quickly backtracking, Bianca corrected herself, “I mean…you don’t need this as a reason. Just stop by whenever…I don’t mind.”

Adore let out an audible sigh of relief and promised to take her up on that offer. Only two weeks later, she found herself wandering into the shop with no excuse other than simply wanting to chat with Bianca. For her part, Bianca seemed to light up when she saw the young woman stopping by without another tear that needed to be fixed. The pair chatted for over an hour as Bianca continued to work on her latest project and Adore sat close by watching the skilled fingers work their magic in bringing life and style to seemingly randomly cut pieces of fabric.

As time went on, her visits became more frequent and soon the pair was spending time outside the shop as well. Most of the time was spent at the beach or boardwalk but occasionally Bianca managed to drag her into town for either window shopping or simply just taking in the sights. It was odd, Adore found herself thinking on an ever increasing basis, she never imagined she could find a human so intriguing. Sure they were always fun to watch but she never would have guessed she become so attached to one, not enough to want to leave the ocean for days on end just to see her.

Very gradually the time she spent on land was about equal to what she spent in the water. Her family and friends noticed of course, but she’d always been a free spirit. Selkies often had a fascination with the world above so they let her be. She was always careful and always returned unharmed so what was the point in trying to tell her to stop? Even if they had, it would only fuel her more.

But a few of their comments did give her reason to wonder why she wanted to spend so much time in the town. Simply staying on the beach or nearby was nothing unusual for a Selkie but among humans? That was a little more out of the ordinary. But whenever she tried to come up with answer, it was always the same; Bianca. She loved the time she spent with this human. Others were interesting of course but Bianca was the one she went out of her way to see, to return to in order to find out more about her. She just didn’t feel that way about any other human she’d met…or any Selkie for that matter.

Bianca was different and soon enough Adore realized why…

She was falling for a human and somehow, she was very okay with that.

************ Though Bianca was always quite honest with her, trying to determine exactly how she felt about Adore was another story entirely. Yes, she seemed to genuinely enjoy the young woman’s company but Adore had to wonder if she actually returned her feelings in the same capacity. They never really talked about it but Adore got the sense that she just might. There were little things, casual inquires into what she thought about, if she was eating right, were the stitches in her coat holding up, and Adore’s favorite; was she sure she still wanted to hang around Bianca?

The first time she asked that question, Adore had taken it entirely the wrong way. She had thought it was the older woman’s roundabout way of trying to kick her out of the shop without seeming too harsh. She remembered the embarrassed flush on Bianca’s face as she quickly explained herself, “I mean, if you don’t want to stay here, you don’t to. I don’t want to you to feel like you have to come by…I like having you here but only if you want to be here.”

It wasn’t the most tactful or graceful answer but it was perfectly Bianca. She was concerned that Adore might become bored with her because after all the shop wasn’t the most exciting place in the world, especially if you compared it to the rest of the town or the ever popular local beaches. But Adore assured her that she loved the atmosphere in the shop and Bianca was the person she’d rather her time with, not a bunch of random strangers. The answer seemed to ease the concerns that had grown in the back of her mind but every so often she would reaffirm with Adore that she still felt that way.

Steadily Adore’s visits were becoming longer and longer. The first time they had ever kissed was the direct result of accidentally staying past her usual allotted time. Initially everything had gone just as any other time she visited the shop. They laughed and joked well into the late afternoon but it was only after Adore chanced to take a look outside that she realized how late she had actually stayed. Bianca would keep working for a few more hours still but Adore had meant to leave before the incoming storm hit the town. She had noticed it brewing long before she arrived and made a note to find her way back to the beach before the downpour started. It wasn’t the water itself that bothered her, it was the motion of the waves. Trying to swim in the midst of a storm was a bit difficult and generally something she tried to avoid.

Oh, well. Can’t be helped now.

She clutched her coat close to her as she prepared to exit the building but a firm hand on her shoulder stopped her dead in her tracks. Turning around in confusion, she was surprised to find Bianca staring at her in a near panic. Frantically, she almost yelled, “Girl, are you crazy? You’re not going out there!”

Blankly, Adore simply responded, “I have to go home.”

“You’re not leaving,” Bianca insisted as she dragged the resisting body away from the door and promptly shut it against the torrential downfall outside, “Not when there’s a fucking hurricane outside!”

“It’s not that bad,” Adore replied in slight confusion. This kind of weather was something she often found herself caught in, she was used to it but then again humans did have a tendency to be more sensitive to these conditions.

Very firmly, arms crossed and all, the seamstress declared, “You’re staying until the storm lets up.”

If Adore learned one thing after the time she spent with Bianca, it was that once her mind was made up, very little could be done to change it and anyone who goes against her wishes would be in for a terrible time. And the arching of her brow as she practically dared Adore to try and argue with her swiftly reaffirmed that point. Touched by the concern of the older woman, Adore agreed to stay with a very mild, “Okay.”

She still didn’t understand what the fuss was about but she would indulge her friend, particularly if it gave her an excuse to spend more time with her. By nightfall however, it was clear that if anything the storm had become worse. There was no way Bianca would willingly allow Adore to leave the building so long as she could help it so the only logical solution was for her to spend the night.

“Sorry, it’s not much,” Bianca apologized as she led Adore into the back room. Seems she had converted the back of her shop into a sort of living and work space. A fireplace roared at the opposite end of the room, a small kitchenette laid nestled in one of the far corners and various sewing materials were strew about the remainder of the space.

Adore found herself immediately wandering towards a mannequin cloaked in a half-finished dress as she absently assured her friend, “I like it…It’s…homey…Very you.”

Though Adore couldn’t see, she would bet anything that Bianca was smiling as she thanked the younger woman. While she continued to examine the various works in progress, Bianca found her way to the kitchen. Placing a kettle on the stove, she asked, “Do you drink tea?”

“Never had it before,” Adore admitted sheepishly. She had never sampled most of the food humans had created.

“Want to try it now?” the older woman offered.

Turning around to face Bianca, Adore nodded her head and joined her in the kitchen. Her eyes darted back and forth from the kettle to all of the items the older woman was pulling from the cabinets and refridgerator. It wasn’t often she got to see anyone cooking, even if it were as small as this.

In just a few short minutes, the water had come to a boil and Bianca motioned for her to join her by the counter top. Displaying numerous bottles and packages, the older woman inquired, “What would you like in your tea?”

Running a hand awkwardly over her arm, Adore deflected by asking, “How do you usually drink it?”

“I like it with just a bit of milk and honey,” Bianca supplied patiently as she began to pour the water into the cups.

“Guess I’ll try it like that then.”

Nodding her head in approval, Bianca prepared their matching drinks and led the young woman over to the couch. As they took their seats, she asked, “It’s not too warm for you with the fireplace going, right? I can-”

“It’s fine,” Adore reassured her with a slight laugh. “But thank you…for everything.”

Brushing off the comment with a small wave of her hand, Bianca took a quick sip and replied hurriedly, “It’s nothing.”

With unconvinced smile on her lips, Adore replied, “You know it’s not,” and let the subject drop for the time being. Very cautiously she raised the mug to her lips and took a shallow gulp. Hardly a second passed after she swallowed before she heard Bianca ask with a hint of mocking in her voice, “How do you like it?”

Seems Adore didn’t hide her reaction as well as she would have liked. Trying to remain kind and not say exactly what she thought of the drink, she replied, “It’s…interesting.”

Barely containing her smile, the older woman assured her, “It grows on you after awhile.”

The pair drank their tea in silence for a few more minutes but Adore felt like there was so much more she wanted to say. After debating with herself for a few seconds longer, she set her near empty mug on the coffee table and called out softly, “Bianca?”

“Mm?” the seamstress answered as she took another sip from her cup.

“Really…” Adore began sincerely, “Thank you-”

“Told you, it’s nothing,” Bianca muttered in slight embarrassment.

Shaking her head at the woman’s stubbornness, Adore decided to take a chance and lean in closer to the woman in front of her. Carefully pushing the cup away from Bianca’s face, she tilted the older woman’s chin up and brushed their lips together in the same manner she had seen many other humans do while walking along the beach. Her eyes fluttered shut for a brief moment as she increased the pressure for half a second before pulling away. She could feel her cheeks growing hot from something other than the burning fireplace but that was the last thing she was concerned about.

Bianca looked stunned by the gesture, her eyes wide in disbelief with just a hint of pink spreading across her face. She gave a tense swallow before turning to set her cup next to Adore’s and pull the younger woman in for another kiss. This time there was more of a mutual passion. Each seemed to have gotten over their hesitance very quickly as their lips met in somewhat graceless but undeniably sincere fashion.

Adore’s mind felt like it was in a fog as Bianca pulled away after a careful lick across the seam of her lips to whisper, “Been wanting to do that for awhile now.”

Nodding, Adore pressed their lips together once more and was hardly surprised as the older woman pulled her into her lap. She felt so safe there, so close to the person she cared about the most. Bianca was being so gentle with her, a sharp contrast to the frenzied passion Adore felt bubbling inside of her. A firm hand on her waist kept her steady as another brushed its fingertips along her cheek, through her hair, and finally down her neck. They trailed softly where the collar of her coat met her skin and very reluctantly, Bianca pulled away.

With no hint of pressure or insistence in her voice, she asked quietly, “Can I take this off?”

Adore heart pulsed in her chest but she knew her answer. Bianca would probably never know how much Adore was trusting her in this moment but all the same, Adore appreciated the extra care the older woman took to open her coat and slid it off to the side. For most of the night they remained just in that spot, occasionally sharing a kiss or two before sleep overtook them.

Adore awoke much earlier than Bianca and very quietly made her way back to the sea to reunite with her family. She probably would never be able to express the relief she felt when she found her coat still laying in the exact same spot as she had left it the previous night. She wanted to stay with Bianca longer but the ocean was calling for her, at least for a short while.

A full day hadn’t even passed before Adore made her way back to the shop to see Bianca once more. Though the older woman didn’t comment, the way her arms wrapped around Adore in relief the moment she walked through the door told her enough. Her smile could hardly be contained as their lips brushed against one another and each breathed out a small sigh knowing that their feelings were in fact returned.

************ For months they allowed the relationship to build at its own pace. Adore still struggled with trusting Bianca 100% but she appreciated that the older woman never seemed inclined to pressure her for more. It was a slow process but Bianca appeared content with whatever pace Adore wanted to move at. She left an open invitation for Adore to come by whenever she wanted and of course it was her choice to spend the night or not. The time Adore spent on land with her companion was steadily outweighing what she spent in the ocean. Of course her favorite place to be aside from the shop was still at the beach and Bianca made no objection to how often she chose to spend their free time together down there.

It was in fact the first place they ever had sex. The tide was just coming in as the two shared a kiss while the surf gently rose around them. Adore had placed herself over Bianca knowing just how far she had wanted to take it that night and Bianca was perfectly fine with that.

The older woman was entirely compliant in her hands, a welcome surprise from her normally domineering attitude. Adore wanted to thank her partner for every little thing she had done, either knowingly or not. Adore took special care to draw out her pleasure and remain in tune with Bianca’s desires. They had spent most of the night just caught in each other’s embrace, simply enjoying the other’s body despite the growing chill in the air and water. Adore gave very little thought to her coat tucked away between the rocks nearby. Every bit of her attention was on the beautiful woman beneath her that she was lucky enough to call 'hers’.

Time continued to pass with the pair growing ever closer. Adore came by the shop nearly every day and spent most nights with Bianca as well. After spending so much time in both parts of the building it was hard for her to miss the growing accumulation of flowers and other gifts piling up on the counters.

Glancing over the most recent bouquet that had been delivered, Adore asked where everything had come from. Somewhat awkwardly, Bianca huddled over the latest project she was finishing up as she muttered, “They, um…I always get gifts like that this time of year…From family, friends, clients, you know…not a big deal really.”

“Why this time of year?” Adore asked curiously as she stepped closer to Bianca’s side.

There was just a hint of red on her partner’s cheeks as she admitted, “It’s just my birthday in two days…”

Adore was dumbfounded. Birthdays were important to humans! Selkies never really celebrated them after a certain point but humans loved them! Why hadn’t Bianca mentioned it sooner?

She wanted to give Bianca a gift more than anything but with only two days left to prepare that didn’t leave much time. What could she find now that could possibly be worthy enough for her partner? She mused over this question for the next day and a half but only one answer ever came back to her mind. She debated if she should really trust a human as much she was tempted to but every instance returned a resounding 'Yes.’ She trusted Bianca entirely, enough to repair her coat when they were strangers and hopefully to keep her secret now that they were so much more than that.

The day of Bianca’s birthday was actually pretty normal; she never was one for celebrating anyway, just happy to have Adore there with her. While the pair sat together that night in the same positions as when they shared their first kiss, Adore held out her clumsily wrapped gift, praying to any deity that it would be accepted.

Her voice shook from anxiety as she muttered, “I don’t have much but…”

Very carefully, the older woman unwrapped the present to find Adore’s only coat folded up and being offered to her. A shallow gasp escaped her as she rapidly replied, “I don’t-I can’t accept this!”

'She doesn’t understand,’ Adore thought with a rueful grin. Perhaps she ought to have told her what it meant first before giving her the coat. Trying her best to explain the situation, Adore began nervously, “This coat, it’s not like-It’s not what you think it is. I’m not-”

Cutting her off with fond smile, Bianca interjected, “I know what you are. I’ve known for awhile now, but this? I can’t take that from you. I can’t take your freedom.”

Even as Bianca tried to return the gift to the younger woman, she refused to accept it and instead insisted, “You’re not taking it, I’m giving it to you!”

Firmly, Bianca shook her head and gave Adore a patient smile as she asserted, “No. I don’t want the coat…Just you.”

Adore was shell-shocked as Bianca finally managed to place the coat back in her arms and whisper, “Keep this. Hang it up by the door, by the bed…God, throw it on the floor if you want but I’m not taking it…It’s yours. I never want you to feel like you have to stay here, you’re free to come and go as much as you want. It’s entirely your choice…I don’t want you to ever feel like you’re trapped here, okay? If you want to go back to the ocean, I promise I won’t stop you.”

The young Selkie tried to fight back the first wave of tears she had felt since first meeting Bianca but unlike last time, these were unable to be contained. Bianca understood exactly what she was and accepted it, even though it hurt a little that Bianca would refuse to take her coat; she understood the reasoning and loved her partner all the more for it.

From that day on, Adore talked freely with Bianca about her life in the sea. She answered Bianca’s burning questions and was even able to ask her own. She no longer felt like she was living a double life or being intentionally deceitful towards her partner. She still returned to the ocean every few days, keeping in touch with friends and relatives below the surface but she knew that whenever she wanted to, she could always return back to the shop to find Bianca waiting for her with open arms and empty coat hook just for her.

#albatross #biadore #adore delano #bianca del rio #fluff #smut #mythology #selkie #rpdr fanfiction

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lillotte17 · 7 years

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I sort of lost steam on the big fancy wedding picture I was going to pair with this, but at least I got the fic part done, right? RIGHT???

As always Inquisitor Uthvir belongs to @feynites

After nearly fifteen minutes of huffing and wheezing her way up several flights of stairs, and at least two instances where she nearly tumbled over the balustrade to an untimely death, Aili finally elbows her way into the Inquisitor’s bedchamber. She can’t see much around the large crate in her arms, so it is not all that surprising when she lumbers directly into Uthvir a few moments later. Luckily, they have the wherewithal to grab hold of both her and her cargo before she topples back down the steps and out the door again.

“More paraphernalia from your room?” they wonder curiously, taking the crate from her with enviable ease and carrying it the rest of the way into their bedroom, “Have you acquired this much equipment since joining the Inquisition? Your initial sleeping quarters at Haven were rather sparsely decorated, as I recall.”

“Oh! N-no, it’s not mine! Well, I suppose it’s sort of mine? It’s…ours, I guess,” Aili fumbles somewhat breathlessly as she follows them. They have been engaged for nearly a month already, and the day they have chosen for their wedding ceremony is fast approaching, but she still has not moved the majority of her things into Uthvir’s room. The space just feels…like it belongs to them. And only them. She has brought a few sets of clothes in, and some soaps, but that is all. Anything more seems like it would be an intrusion.

Uthvir arches a brow at her, pausing for a moment before setting the crate down on the floor.

“A wedding present?” they guess.

“Not exactly,” she says; one corner of her mouth twitching upwards as she kneels down on the floor and pulls the lid off, “Although it is for the wedding.”

The box it filled to bursting with brightly colored cords and ribbons.

Uthvir’s eyebrows tick upwards in obvious surprise.

“What are those for?” they wonder.

“To make the tie for the handfasting ceremony,” Aili explains, suddenly feeling a bit shy, and fidgeting with a few of the ribbons in the crate, “In most clans, the couple getting married traditionally braid it together themselves.”

“And we need this many?” Uthvir asks, giving the box a dubious glance, “How long is this tie going to be? Are we going to be bound together from head to heel?”

“No!” Aili laughs, “We only need three of them, really. They say that in the days of Elvhenan, spirits of love and harmony would bind the hearts of those who wished to share each other's lives. Of course, those sorts of spirits don’t really make a lot of appearances on this side of the Veil anymore and trying to summon one would likely get a bunch of angry Chantry-types chasing after us with swords. So, this is just… A symbol. A sign that we still remember the old ways, even if we can't precisely follow them."

She pauses for a moment, looking up at Uthvir to flash them an uncertain smile.

"So, I guess it's up to us to bind our lives together. Through our actions and choices."

"I cannot say that I do not prefer it that way," Uthvir admits, "And you might be glad of it too, in the end. The old rights of marriage were a bit…permanent."

"You don't consider the marriage we're about to enter into permanent?" Aili frowns.

"Not in the same sense," Uthvir shrugs, "Should you chose to leave me at some point, you would never have to know anything about where I am or what I may be doing ever again. It would not be the same if your spirit was bound to mine. We would feel each other's pain and wants, whether we wished to or not. And should one of us die before the other, it would be…deeply unpleasant. …Or so I would imagine."

"We…we're not even married yet, and you're talking about it like you don't expect it to last," Aili says in a low voice, suddenly very intent on studying the pattern of the rug on the floor. She knows that this is more or less a political arraignment, but she does like Uthvir. They're a good friend. And she had hoped that maybe someday they might…

An armored finger taps pointedly against the edge of the crate where her hand is still resting. Aili's gaze flicks up towards Uthvir's, who has kneeled down on the opposite side of the box, and appears to be carefully considering their next words.

“All things come to an end at some point or another,” Uthvir tells her slowly, “I have never seen much point in pretending that the world does not work that way. However, I did not mean to imply that our time together would be brief or unpleasant. I cannot say what sort of spouse I might be, I have never been married to someone before, but I intend to…try.”

Aili’s smile returns full force as she reaches over to place a hand on top of theirs.

“Me too.”

Uthvir nods once in acceptance, reaching over to awkwardly pat her hand a bit before withdrawing their touch and fixing their gaze back onto the crate of ropes and ribbons before them.

“So, if we only need three to make the tie for the ceremony, how did we end up with an entire box?” they wonder.

“Well, I mentioned needing a red ribbon to Josephine in passing,” Aili huffs in exasperated amusement, “And I asked her to see if maybe some of the traders and craftsmen around Skyhold had some extra fabrics or chords or ribbons in other colors lying around that we could use for the wedding, and… I guess this was the response. I’m not sure if they thought this would garner favor somehow, or if everyone just had a lot of junk they wanted to get rid of. …These all look pretty nice.”

"The perks of marrying Andraste's chosen," Uthvir smirks. "Do we just grab whichever three we fancy, or is there something specific we are meant to be looking for?"

"Well," Aili hums thoughtfully, riffling through the contents of the crate for a few moments before extracting a bright crimson chord that seems to be woven of something soft and silky, "The red strand is the most important one. It represents the spirit of…um…love. The one that is supposed to be binding the two of us together. We're each supposed to pick a color to represent ourselves, but usually there aren't this many options… I was thinking of picking a blue one for myself."

She rummages around a bit more until she unearths a similar rope the color of a pale summer sky. She twists it around the other one in her hand, admiring the two colors together. Holding them up for her betrothed to see.

"If we were getting married back home, we would make the tie into a loop and hang it on the outside of our aravel. We'd have the whole thing to ourselves for at least a month, unless the clan was hard pressed to travel someplace new. And everyone would come and hang trinkets and charms from it, or maybe even some coin, if things were going well. Wedding presents and wishes of goodwill," Aili explains, twiddling with the ends of the ropes, "It usually becomes something of a keepsake, so I thought it deserved a little more thought than some of the other preparations. I'm a little scared to see what sort of dress Leliana and Josephine have picked out, honestly."

"I like red," Uthvir offers, after a moment of consideration.

"I never would have guessed," Aili laughs, gesturing to the sea of scarlet décor surrounding them, "But we already have a red one. We can't do two reds and a blue, it'll look weird."

"It does not need to be the same shade of red," Uthvir insists.

"Hm, well…they all look pretty similar,"Aili says, pulling various colored threads and comparing them to the one already in her hand, "What about…ha!"

She holds up a chord for their inspection.

"That is…purple," Uthvir says, making a face.

"It's a sort of…reddish purple?" Aili tries. She sighs in defeat when their expression remains dubious. "Alright, fine. Are there any other colors you like?"

"Black," they reply flatly, and she can’t tell if they're being serious or not.

"We can't use black!" Aili declares, "That's a mourning color. It's probably bad luck or something!"

"Very well," Uthvir sighs, "What color do you think I should use?"

"Oh! Well, uh…"Aili stammers slightly, not expecting the turnaround, "Maybe… Maybe something like…this?"

She pulls a long rope out of the crate. It is a little thinner than the other two, and it is a rich warm gold color, threaded through with metallic strands so that it sparkles a little when the light hits it just right.

The look on Uthvir's face is inscrutable, but they do not immediately reject her choice either. Which is potentially a good sign. Their gaze seems very intense, but they almost seem a bit…surprised?

"Why would you think that gold suited me?" they wonder. The question is not framed harshly. If anything, their voice sounds a little confused. Guarded. As though she has stepped too close to something private.

"Well, you know,"Aili fumbles, "You're the Inquisitor and all. Big and important with a throne room an everything. It made me think of gold and riches, I guess. But you’d look pretty in this sort of color, I think. It would bring out the warm tones in your eyes. You would look nice in gold. N-not that you don't look nice all the time! Because you do. Of course. Everyone's always looking at you. You've got such a…a presence. That's why they wanted you to lead, you know. You…you sort of….shine."

"The glowing hand helps with that, I am certain," Uthvir says wryly, though they seem rather pleased by her assessment. And strangely relieved. "Gold is a fine enough color, I suppose, but I have never really thought that it suited me particularly well. However, I think we might be on the right path. If I might suggest a slight alteration?"

They dig through the contents of the box for a minute or two before unearthing another chord with a metallic sheen. They hold it out for Aili's approval, the beginnings of a smirk curling at the corners of their mouth.

"I have always found bronze to be a more pleasant color, even if it is not seen to be quite so valuable as gold," Uthvir tells her.

"Oh, but…um," Aili trips through some mangled attempt at a sentence, color rising in her cheeks.

"You disapprove?" Uthvir asks, tilting their head and frowning slightly.

"N-no, it's not that!" Aili assures them, "It's just that bronze is… I mean, that color is awfully similar to…"

She raises her hand as though by reflex and brushes her fingers over the delicate whorls of the vallaslin on her chin.

Uthvir blinks. Ah.

"It is a lovely color on you," they commend, carefully reaching over to touch the same place below her lip with a single clawed hand, "Would you mind if I borrowed it?"

"W-well its not like I own it or anything," she mumbles, embarrassed at being so easily flustered, "And it would look nice with the other two."

"Well, now that that business is all settled, what do you propose we do with the rest of theses ribbons and things?" Uthvir asks, leaning across the crate with a spark of mischief in their gaze.

"I don't know," Aili admits with a laugh, completely obtuse, "Do you know anyone else who's thinking about tying the knot?"

"I was…rather thinking we might try using them to tie a few knots of our own," Uthvir replies, reaching up to tuck a stray curl behind her ear and brushing her cheek with the sharp talons of their gauntlet in the process. Looming just a bit.

"But…we're already getting married," Aili points out, brow furrowing in slight confusion, "Why would we need to- Oh. …Oh!"

Her face is positively flaming.

"B-but we've only every really tried binding my wrists for that," she squeaks out a moment later,"W-what…what would you do with the rest of them?"

Uthvir's grin is wide and devious.

"Let me show you."

#Aili lavellan #uthvir #Inquisitor Uthvir AU #the sharp one likes your shine!#fic #i was going to go a bit further #but i sort of fizzled out #-__-

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