Birdsong

Birdsong

Quick contribution to Fenris week.*

Apologies in advance for both the lack of smut and the cheese factor.

Continuity-wise - it takes place after Reason and before the end of Act III in DA2. (Probably a little before Ghosts & Shadows, but it doesn’t really matter…)

*written for momochanners

Birdsong

I’m resting on the riverbank, my head cradled on Fenris’s abdomen, his hand stroking through the damp waves of my hair.

We’re naked, bathed in sunlight and warm grass and tickling ants - an idyllic summer tryst captured in between the breath of a light breeze and the airy warble of birdsong.

We’ve made love twice already.

Once in the river, once out of it, but the heat of the moment has long since passed into nothing more than the gentle touch of sated skin and warm bodies. I press a soft kiss on his hip, and his cock stirs in response, but it’s less a request and more of a general acknowledgement. Our eyes meet as I turn toward him, and the crinkle at the corner of his mouth is soft and lovely.

Relaxed.

Our clothes remain scattered on the rocks beside us, but neither of us makes a move to get dressed. To do so would shatter this secret peace, destroy the sublime illusion of our insulated cocoon. The afternoon has grown long, but it’s not gone yet. It still belongs to us.

I talk of my past…childhood stories and the like. He lets me ramble on, the cadence of my words entwined with the droning of bees. I would have thought it boring after a while, but he soaks it up like a sponge, only interrupting to punctuate it with snide comments and the occasional chuckle.

He’s living vicariously, I realize. Replacing what little knowledge he has of his own past with memories of mine. My heart aches for him, but I’m not cruel enough to say it aloud.

The elf is complicated in his methods, but simple in his affections.

I fall silent after a while, my voice drifting away into nothingness. I shut my eyes, lost in the rhythmic movements of his fingers. At length he pauses, sighing.

“There was a bird.”

I cock a brow at his tone. “A bird?”

He scowls. “Back in Tevinter.”

He rarely speaks of his time as a slave, and I’ve never really asked. Not that I haven’t been curious, but there are some things that aren’t worth prying into. I’ve earned his trust in whatever bits and pieces he chooses to give.

I kiss his hip again.

His body tenses and then goes limp. I’ve found if I don’t look at him directly he’s a little more willing to divulge his past, but it’s a touch and go thing.

“So, a bird,” I prompt him, when he remains quiet.

“Danarius kept them. Little ones. They made a…pleasant sound in his solar. They weren’t caged, but they were fat with food and the inability to fly. He kept their wings clipped.”

“A cage of another sort.”

“Indeed.” The edge in his voice suggests I’m treading toward dangerous ground. His fingers tighten in my hair. “They say caged birds sing the sweetest, pining for the freedom they’ll never know, but I don’t think it’s entirely true.”

“A bird that has never known the ability to fly has nothing to compare it to, even if it longs for something it doesn’t quite understand,” I say softly.

He frowns, shifting beneath me. “They were just too stupid to know any better. Every once in a while, one would get out of the solar. But it never lasted. They’d sit there, waiting for someone to pick them up and put them back, stuffing their faces with seed.”

“And how would they know to fly, when it was safer to return to the only thing they were familiar with?” I suspect I know where he’s going with this, but the argument is far too complex to do more than scrape the surface.

“One did not,” he says, after another long pause. “She slipped out through a window, and fluttered away. Undoubtedly to be eaten by some forest creature or a stray cat within moments of landing.” He smiles grimly. “Such is the fate of a runaway.”

Now I sit up, cupping his cheek. “Is it? Perhaps she found herself a mate and a cozy little home, out there among the trees. Maybe she raised a family. Maybe she plunged to her death, like you said.” I shrugged, and lowered myself to rest on my elbows, the warm grass soothing. “You will never really know.”

“No. Is that all there is to freedom? The not knowing?”

“Perhaps I should set you free, then…and let you find out.” I say it nonchalantly, but my chest tightens at the idea. Still. “A bird willing to be caged should know what it’s giving up.”

He snorts, prodding me with his foot. “I know what I’d be giving up.”

“And what’s that? Hot baths? A stocked larder? Losing at Wicked Grace?” My smile becomes crooked. “A stiff cock?”

He rolls his eyes and curves himself around me. “You’re infuriating when you’re dense.”

“Mmph. Well, what is it they say in Tevinter? Caveat Emptor? I just want you know what you’re getting into.” My words are cut off with the next breath as he captures my mouth with his, and the silence stretches out into nothing more than something warm and soft and utterly delicious.

“Don’t think to ply me with platitudes, mage,” he says finally, coming up for air.

“Perhaps I’d be better off with kisses,” I agree. “But you didn’t really answer my question.”

“Are you so eager to see me go? Bah. I’ve my own bird right here, Hawke…and this cage is not so easily slipped, I think.” His voice becomes husky. “Nor would I, even if you chose to do so.”

“Guess I’ll just sit back and stuff you with my seed, then.” The words are past my lips before I can stop them, and I wince.

His cheek twitches as he stares at me, the edges of his shoulders beginning to shake as he covers his mouth with his fist. But a moment later his laughter rings out through the glade like a living thing.

The song of a caged bird, set free.

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momochanners reblogged this from ionsfolly and added:

Whipped up a quick companion piece to the lovely ficlet before bed ^o^
ionsfolly posted this