at the end of it all ; part 1
i have reached a point in my life where i am creating for only a small amount of people i care for and at the center of that is me. so where i would normally stuff this away in a gdoc or post it in fear of being called cringe on ao3, this and other pieces of fiction will make their home here
paris de riva is my first rook for dragon age the veilguard !
I. in the soft mornings of the lighthouse
Paris cared a lot about the Veilguard, it was clear in the way that they spoke about helping others or with a cleverly timed quip in more solemn of times. But it was much clearer in the way that they acted, in the way that they carry the weight of the world on their shoulders, in the way that they'll stifle their tears and remain stone faced as they faced the team in their strategy meetings.
Davrin, was one of the few that Paris cared a little bit more for. They would always come by his quarters to chat, Assan's feathered head always making its way on to his lap as they unwinded from the day's mission. Their fingers would always linger a bit longer than they should on Davrin's skin. Their eyes (or perhaps, the one good one?) always seemed to burn with a passion when they'd toss a flirtatious word over to the warden.
Who was Davrin to say no to his leader? Who was he to deny himself what he wanted as well?
There have been a few nights, where in the silence of the Fade, Paris would sneak off into his room. "I just wanted to see Assan before I went to bed." Their usual excuse went. Then, it would be something else after that
"It's a bit cold tonight, huh?" "Come cuddle up with with me." "Your bed looks cozy tonight." "...Davrin."
Much like clockwork, Davrin will want. Davrin has been wanting since he has met Paris. And he would find his body pressed up against Paris', his lips would slot in with theirs, and the two of them would make a mess of the sheets and of themselves. This was just part of their chase, this was the part of the hunt that the both of them enjoyed and it just felt so ...good.
Two Dalish elves, up against their gods, finding home and comfort with eachother. It was all so romantic.
Or well, it would be, perhaps under different circumstances.
While it is true that Paris would check up on him, would kiss him, would lay with him. They weren't truly his. Davrin wanted it, but with Assan and his siblings to still think about he couldn't commit to something serious with them yet.
So each night, just like clockwork, he would watch Paris leave his bed. A smile on their face and a soft " I need to go check on Luca," to follow. He wasn't the only one after the Rook's heart. He had a rival for this quarry.
Davrin would watch at the top of the stairs, as Paris would sneak away again, to the kitchens to be with their fellow crow, Lucanis Dellamorte.
Davrin can't help but shake the feeling that he was fighting a losing battle.