leliana

[Dovev]

He needed it. The fight. The rage. Flesh between his teeth, blood in his mouth. The exertion, exhaustion. He needed the darkness to force him under, where he couldn't fall asleep thinking of her. Longing for her. He needed to forget her. He hadn't slept in so long. So long. She was everywhere, and never there.

She was never there.

It might have been too much this time. He might have bit off more than he could chew. He never considered his own health, he was used to the pain. Perhaps he should've known better than to play with a bear. Pushed his little head to the ground, let him wail and squeal. A cub was nothing. He needed sleep, damnit. He needed the distraction from her. So he waited for the vicious mother, called her to him by her child's frantic screams. Seeing him in danger enraged her far more than his dead body ever could have.

A wicked grin split his face, eagerness in his eyes, and he kicked the cub aside. Let the real fun begin.

Now, he might actually be dying. He didn't really think it was possible, he'd always felt so invincible. He'd always bled so freely, took every battle with such a go-down-swinging attitude. But he never really went down. He always got back up. Bleeding, broken, but always alive. Time, that was all he needed. Some time to heal.

He liked when his eyes went all blurry as he lay bleeding and heaving shuddering breaths, each one ripping him apart from the inside. A rib stood out of him, claw marks painted his hide. She'd gotten a few good hits, he supposed. Some grapples. Nearly got his eye, too. Nearly. The bone of his cheek was bare, the breeze so cold against his open wounds. He shivered, winced. Yes, the blur was nice. It made her come in more clearly.

Soft, red hair draped across the graceful curve of her shoulder. Warm, brown eyes wide in worry. He smiled weakly, delirious and loving it. His teeth painted red. Damn, he was supposed to forget her. Supposed to slip so blissfully into the darkness. He choked up blood. Her wings were blue this time. Sometimes they changed to that silky black as he desperately tried to fall asleep. Which only made it harder to. This time blue. And then as red-black as his blood. Come on, make me sleep. Take her away.

He wasn't sure how far back the bear's body was. He'd made some distance before he collapsed, he thought. No where near Ischia, though. Still somewhere in the forest. It was probably late evening by the time solid blackness finally claimed him. It all went so wonderfully black.

A new, sudden pain woke him. He realized he had cried out and silenced it between clenched teeth, his entire body locked up. The rumbling within him forced itself to the surface as it always did, bone plates gradually pushing more skin away. It battled with his broken rib, sharp agony racking his whole body. This time the pain was too much -everything he'd yet to heal from, everything that happened now- and it all went black again. So wonderfully black.

constantly having to to put him back together :|

[leliana]

I know what it is but I'm hoping that all is well
no harvest of green but it's still my heart to sell

He hadn’t come for her.

Each day passed and that fact didn’t change. He did not come for her. She haunted the places where they had first met, his breath on her cheek waking him up; she wandered the borders of Tephra, the water lapping at her ankles, as she looked out toward where she knew the island lay waiting, the knowledge that he was there, just out of sight, causing an ache to grow within her bones.

Eventually, she had accepted that he wasn’t going to follow her; that all he had wanted was one night. It hurt—more than she had ever expected. She tried to think around it, to throw herself into the work of healing, but no matter how exhausted she was at the end of the day, he was there. She could not sleep, not without dreaming him, and so she took to wandering, searching for something she knew was impossible.

Tonight, as she walked, her wings were that familiar onyx of his hide, the appendages of them visible with ivory; it hurt to carry a piece of him with her, such as tangible reminder, but it felt suiting tonight. She wrapped the leather of them around her barrel, the weight similar to when he had done the same.

But it was different. It wasn’t him.

The copper hit her first, and she swung her head up, nostrils flaring. The scream came second. She did not hesitate; instead, she flung herself forward, the branches lightly scraping her sides as she hunted for the source of the sound, the source of that smell. It was too much blood. Too much. She could taste how thick it was on the air and she knew, in the twisting of her gut, that it was death. This wasn’t just an injury.

Her nerves skittered, but she didn't stop.

She had never tried to heal someone this close to death, but she could try. She had to.

When she burst through a break in the trees and saw him, it felt like the air rushed out of her. He was on the floor, bleeding more than she had ever seen him bleed. The rib sticking out from his barrel was different than the rest of the bones that covered him; it was abnormal, painful, piercing flesh that even his body knew to keep knit together. She cried out and then pushed her gift forward, pressing it on urgently.

His name was on her lips, but she couldn’t waste the effort to say it.

Everything within her focused on this one task, this one monumentally important moment. She gulped in the air, winded, the strands of healing moving quickly through him. It did not take a short amount of time. An hour had passed before she knew it, and she felt her neck slick with sweat, the red tendrils of her hair sticking to it, but, still, there was more to do. She had fixed the worst of it, brought his bone back to its rightful place, sewed up the flesh, but she could feel infection brewing, internal organs crying out.

She hit her knees in exhaustion and groaned against her teeth, but continued moving her way through him; every inch of her ached to touch him, but she knew if she did, she’d lose her concentration, she would lose her focus, and she couldn’t risk that. She needed every inch of whatever gift had been bestowed upon her. (If only, she thought wildly. If only Exist was here too. She needed her sister.)

Finally—finally—it was done.

The bruises vanished, the blood staunched, the skin pressed back together.

Her eyes fluttered open, vision blurry, as she looked at him, and her gift recoiled, settling into her chest. Good. He was good. She could see his chest rising and falling. She reached out, muzzle brushing the part of him she could reach, touching the tip of his nose, before she felt her consciousness slipping.

She slumped to the earth, body falling to the blood-soaked forest floor, and let the darkness claim her.

I put everything I had into something that didn't grow
like going on a wild hunt, shooting arrows without a bow

[Dovev]

The flow of warmth.. so smooth, so comforting. So welcome.

So familiar.

He exhaled without pain, without the chill of air against his wounds. Without coughing blood, wheezing in agony. He inhaled the most glorious dream; her scent, her breath. This might have been the best sleep he'd had since she left. A wonderful dream. He never wanted to wake.

Is this a dream?
If it is never wake me..

A faint smile crept in. His heart ached, but he didn't care this time. This time was more real, her sweet fragrance so very real. If only her warmth had come with it. The feel of her pressed against him. He forgot he was trying to forget her. Trying so hard to let her go. Whatever they were, could never truly be. It was only endless pain even she could not heal away. So he tried to make the outward pain mask it. And he.. was not hurting?

He opened his eyes. Crimson lips rested so near his nose. Mmm, he smiled. Still a wonderful dream. His face slid across the ground, reaching to touch her, kissed her soft, red velvet. It felt so real. But she did not stir. In his dreams she always answered with her own heat, a heat she hadn't shown him when they huddled so close that night. A heat he only found in his dreams.

Black eyes blinked, focused.
Leliana?
She lie so still. The sour tang of worry bloomed in him. It was only a dream though, right?

With a grunt, he pushed himself up, muscles trembling weakly with the effort. Still weak, but..unharmed. Surrounded in blood. He took in his smoothed skin, his bone armor showing just a little more but not bleeding. Oh no! He jerked back around to look at her, prone and helpless. Vulnerable. Unconscious.
Leliana!
Oh god, is she breathing?

He lurched forward in his urgency, falling to the ground again. He shifted in the dirt the rest of the way, lining himself against her spine and roughly shoving his nose against her.
Leliana, please.. Stupid girl. Why did she have to heal him? Why did she insist on killing herself to force his full recovery? She should have let him bleed out.

He pressed into her, hard. But still she wouldn't move. Still she wouldn't stir at his voice, at his touch. He'd killed her. His selfishness killed her. He just wanted to sleep. He just wanted to forget her, make the pain in his chest go away. Make the ache of her missing go away. She hurt so much.

Wake up! Get UP! His voice was raw, and he choked on his fear. He bent and bit her cheek, enough to break her perfect skin. Leliana! Wide eyes stared down at her, so close to crying over her stupid body. No, she can't be dead from this! He rubbed his cheek against her neck, still so warm. Black hair draped across her. A tear dampened her coat, teeth grit tightly, barely containing all this new pain. Please wake up.

He felt her breathe and he pulled back sharply, concern quickly flashing into anger.
Why did you do that? Never do it again! God, she could have DIED!

[leliana]

I know what it is but I'm hoping that all is well
no harvest of green but it's still my heart to sell

She dreamt of him, even as she slipped into the undertow of her consciousness.  It was so real; she could imagine the heady scent of him wrapping around her. How many nights had she thought of this exact smell? How many times had she gone to sleep with his phantom touch, the warmth of his body pressed up against hers? It had been so pleasant; so unspeakably perfect. But each morning she had woken up and he had been gone. Each morning, she woke to find he was no longer there. It hurt all the more for it.

But now, now she could feel him. She wanted to curl up against him, move so that she was pressed to his side, but she couldn’t move. She wanted to whisper his name, tell him how much she had missed him, how much she had thought about him, but the words were clogged in her throat, her tongue cemented in her mouth. She was underwater and she couldn’t breathe—but it didn’t hurt. Nothing hurt. Not here.

She thought she could hear him, something in his voice both desperate and urgent, and her thoughts twisted in the back of her mind, the barest of motions. Was he calling for her? She couldn’t tell. Something in her told her to stay down, to let the fog rest over her, to give into it. Nothing but pain awaited for her on the surface. Nothing but his absence. Here, she could at least trick herself into thinking that he was near. She could pretend by the warmth on her back, his scent, that he was around her.

It wasn’t until his teeth broke her flesh that she stirred, the sudden, visceral pain bringing her to, nostrils flaring to drink in the cool air. Her eyes fluttered open, her thick lashes framing amber eyes as she came back to the surface, as she found her focus again. He was there. This wasn’t real. He was there.

“That...” her voice was barely audible, a whisper that pushed between barely parted lips, “that should feel better.” An echo of meetings past, enough to cause her lips to curve into a weak smile, despite his voice that had switched from such urgent concern to such hot rage. She groaned in the back of her throat at the pain in her bones, at the sharpness of the cut, but didn’t otherwise say anything else just yet.

If his fury surprised her, she didn’t show it.

Instead, she pushed herself to her knees, head light and fuzzy, opening her eyes so she could drink him in. He was alive. He was alive and close enough to touch. After a moment of silence, his fresh anger washing over her, she gave him another weary curve of lip, the fatigue still draping over her shoulders, wound on her cheek healing slowly. She shifted and then braved the distance between them, pressing her cheek to his, mouth tracing down his neck as if to reassure herself that he was, indeed, completely healed.

She pulled back and dropped her head down, looking up at him through her lashes. “You should know better, Dovev.” Voice still weak, thin with fatigue. “Even if you do not want me in your life,” the words burned in her throat, “you should know better than to think I would let you die.”

No matter the cost it took to keep him alive.

For him, she would pay it.

I put everything I had into something that didn't grow
like going on a wild hunt, shooting arrows without a bow

[Dovev]

"That...that should feel better"

Anger flashed to concern again. She was so weak, barely whispering, groaning in pain, faint little smile. His brows tugged together in worry as she tried to stand. Everything was so slow, so careful, and her eyes were so foggy. She moved as though wading through thick tar, every motion a calculated effort. He was her ultimate goal, and he met her reaching cheek with his in a rush of relief, eyes closing over the depth of emotions flooding him. They were so new and frightening. Anger was his element, he knew anger. He could fit so easily into it, pull it over him like a shield, a cloak of power.

The fury still burned within him. Why would she do this, push herself that far? Why the hell did she have to be so damn selfless? Why did she have to show just when he needed her?

He watched her with a hard stare as she pulled away, speaking again.
"You should know better, Dovev."
Damn, he had missed the sound of his name on her tongue. How it could sound so soft and meaningful, when he was so meaningless. So harsh.
"Even if you do not want me in your life, you should know better than to think I would let you die."

He cursed and tore his eyes from her.

Of course she would think he didn't want to see her, he hadn't given her a reason to think otherwise. That he didn't think of her constantly, didn't wish she was there each night to wrap so closely together beneath her wing. To do far more than just hold her. So much more. Things that even now hid so stealthily and bright within his anger, pretending to be a burning rage. He strangled a groan, shaking his head. How does she do this to him?

He turned back to her, fire dancing safely behind its cage in his dark eyes. With purpose, he ignored his own fatigue and shifted to her side, steadied her with his hidden strength. His touch was gentle and sweet as he brushed against her soft hair, but his voice was hard.
Don't do it again, Leliana. It will take your life one day, and nothing is worth that.
He bit the muscle in her neck for emphasis, and because he just really wanted to. Touching his lips to her was so natural, so vital, as though she was his life force. His air. He couldn't stop if he wanted to, and he never wanted that. Never.

You understand? Nothing.
Especially me.

His body already tried to respond to her nearness, pulse quickening, breath shortening. How long had it been since he could touch her, smell her, feel her? Taste her. Even with time and distance, his desire for her never dampened, never truly cooled. Now he was an ass, a wicked bastard wishing he would take advantage of her weak state when she couldn't fight him off. For now, he was able to control it, locked so safely behind that cage. She didn't truly want him anyway, and that mattered more to him. With her, it mattered more.

And I do want you.. he whispered.

[leliana]

I know what it is but I'm hoping that all is well
no harvest of green but it's still my heart to sell

His concern, his anger, washed over her, but she didn’t mind it. She simply leaned into him, thankful to have him to help hold her. She had pushed herself too far; she knew that. Her gift whimpered in her chest, completely spent, and she admonished herself for attempting to overexert herself, for thinking that she could control the fates and weave new tapestries into destiny. However, she knew, she knew that she never really had a choice. Not when it came to him. Her gift would recover. She would recover.

And he would live. That is what was most important.

At his lecturing, she just gave him a kind smile, amber eyes tired but lit lightly for him. “You mean, ‘Don’t do it again please.’” Her laugh was thin but it rang like silver bells in her mouth at the teasing as she reached over to pull gently on his forelock, mouth trailing sweetly down his cheek and then under his chin. “Stop trying to get yourself killed and I will stop putting you back together again.”

The truth was, that for all of Leliana’s softness and quiet nature, there was steel beneath it. She may not be loud or bright or intense, but there was an understated strength, an unwavering core. She would bleed out for Dovev, and she would follow him, and she would not place demands on him--but she would also not blindly listen when he commanded her. It wasn’t in her nature. Not in her DNA.

“It’s my gift, Dovev. I will save whoever I want, whenever I need to.”

She breathed in his scent, felt the rush of his pulse, and she smiled, her own desire, foreign as it was to her, simmering just below the surface, trapped beneath the fog of her exhaustion. Part of her wanted to ask why he was always on the brink of death when she found him, why the wounds did not seem to come just from the bone armor erupting from beneath the surface, but she also had a feeling that he didn’t want to explain that to her, not yet. He may press into her, touch her, hold her, but there were still critical parts of him that he kept locked away from her; she knew he wasn’t ready to share them.

At his words, her heart lept into her throat, and she closed her eyes against the shocking power of it, against the need that clawed at her. He wanted her. Like he had wanted her in the cave, the heat of it, the desire. Like he wanted others, she reminded herself. Not like she wanted him; not the way that she was coming to need him. She opened her eyes to study his face and lied to herself. It would be enough, to be wanted by him in this way. She could make it be enough. He didn’t have to share his heart.

(Lies. All lies. She hungered for that part of him, that part that felt so impossibly out of reach.)

“I am yours,” she repeated, whispering the words into his neck.

“I have been from the first moment we met.”

I put everything I had into something that didn't grow
like going on a wild hunt, shooting arrows without a bow

[Dovev]

He rolled his eyes at her, ignoring the electicity of her weak laugh, but he wasn't going to correct the command. She should never heal him if it would weaken her so greatly, and he would never be sorry for demanding it. She gave her own command, too, to stop trying to get himself killed.
I wasn't- I don't- He growled. You wouldn't understand. He didn't even understand it, but the NEED to do it never left him.

"It's my gift, Dovev. I will save whoever I want, whenever I need to."
He shook his head, his voice sharp with frustration.

Fine, but not me. I don't want you to. I would have been fine on my own. He heard the loud lie in it as clearly as she would. Even she knew he had nearly died this time. But it had been the first and only time. He'd just needed a good fight. Needed the blackness to consume his wandering mind. He would have been fine, but she was there in his head as always. Haunting him, distracting him, making him want her. Stealing his focus away from keeping himself alive.

Her stupid, beautiful face in his mind was more important than even his own heartbeat.

His anger was rising, sliding into lust and back again. Flickering between them so erratically he couldn't tell the two apart anymore, melding into one new emotion all in its own. Something powerful and bright, black eyes smoldering as he whispered his deepest truth to her. And I do want you..
More than anything. All of her.

"I am yours," her whisper warmed his neck and stole his breath away. She was so powerful with him; so quickly stoking his fire to a wild blaze, just as swiftly snuffing it out to caressing smoke. "I have been from the first moment we met."

He remembered every detail of that day. The way she called to him with her sweet innocence and mahogany coat, the way he was helpless to curl around her possessively and hold her, his teeth ready at her neck to pull her back to him. But he'd never had to. She'd stayed, and somehow ripped that power from him. By the time he left, it was to escape her and what she did to him. How he changed so drastically when he was around her, no longer the merciless weapon. No longer confident. Something so much softer, unsteady, and powerless.

Powerless now, too, as his body ignored the urge to step away from her, regain his own mind. Even with great distance, she controlled it. He was more hers than she realized.

Leliana.. he murmured softly, turning his head and resting his lips on her nose. He was steadily burning coal, so cool to the eye yet so very hot beneath the sweetly drifting smoke that held her so close. He needed her. Her grounded steadiness to his sudden and wild emotions. He was uncontrollable, unpredictable, and she soothed it with her voice, with her endless calm. She never balked at his rage, at his need for control. Control that he continually gave over to her careful hands.

I couldn't get you out of my head, he explained quietly, anguish shaking his voice. He suddenly needed her to understand. I can't rest anymore. Now that I know what it really feels like. He lay his forehead against hers, loving how relaxing it always felt, how calming.

I just needed sleep.. His voice faded away to nothing.

[leliana]

I know what it is but I'm hoping that all is well
no harvest of green but it's still my heart to sell

She brushed off his demands with a shake of her lovely head, lips curling. “That’s not your call to make, Dovev,” she leaned over, her breath ons his cheek, her teeth pulling gently at the corner of his mouth, testing and teasing, tasting the salt on his skin. “I want to save you, and I will. If you insist on tearing yourself apart, then I will have no choice but to pull you back together again.” She met his gaze with her own, not matching the heat of his, the frustration, but holding it steady and not backing down. She was cool under pressure, steady when others nerves may have jangled. She did not fear him.

Even though perhaps she should have.

She closed her eyes at the sound of her name on his tongue, the richness of it. He lay his forehead against her, and she murmured in response, the words difficult to decipher, the noise soothing and calm. “Shh,” she whispered, her heart aching at his confessions. “It’s okay. I’m here now.” She didn’t move her head from where it lay, pressed up against his own, but her wings unfurled, the appendages long and graceful, back to feathers again, although the color remained black. The edges reached for him, brushing along his sides with soft strokes, tiny brushes down his sides, across the ridges of the bone and to his very flesh.

“I have barely slept,” she made her own confession, feeling his breath as it rippled across her skin. She moved then, shifting to the side and coming to press her chest up against his own, loving the warmth of him, even though some of it remained shielded by the armor that slowly overtook his body. She leaned her cheek on his back and rested there, closing her eyes. “I spend most nights thinking of you.”

Wandering the borders of Tephra, the warm water lapping at her ankles, the salt breeze tangling her hair and pushing it from her face. Even the curled warmth of her sister had not always been enough to steady her nerves, to let sleep come to her. “I didn’t think that you’d want me to come find you again.” It had been bold of her to hunt him down once, but she wasn’t going to force herself upon him.

“Or I would have been there, every night.”

I put everything I had into something that didn't grow
like going on a wild hunt, shooting arrows without a bow

[Dovev]

She stole his breath again, driving him back into desire as her teeth pulled at the corner of his mouth. His heartbeat soared instantly. His head turned naturally to complete it with a real kiss, so gladly stolen. Mine..

The embers burned a little hotter, breath a little shorter, but her voice soothed them back down again. They held their faces together, the contact sending waves of calm into him, gradually cooling his swift infernos. She brought him up, tore him back down. His emotions danced to her song, all control slipped from his grasp. It was terrifying. Yet he loved it. Yet he hated it.

Her wings pulled to his side, stroking bone and sunken flesh alike. Once again she threw fuel into him, her touch a craving he'd never sate. "I have barely slept." She slid forward, her chest pressing to his. He breathed her in again. As she lay her head on his back, he mirrored her, but with a bite to the base of her neck. He growled low, slowly losing the calm she pressed into him. "I spend most nights thinking of you."

Not like he did.
Nothing like his thoughts of her.
Nothing like what was spreading through him now.

"I didn't think that you'd want me to come find you again. Or I would have been there, every night."
He desired for that too. So badly. He moaned and pulled back, retreating from her embrace, from her intoxicating touch.
Leliana.. he said, husky and deep with a warning in the dark tone of it. He shook his head slowly, then opened his eyes to meet hers. Fire still caged, but so bright, so close to burning its way out.

I meant it before. You can't touch me.. Regret and longing, both. More than anything he wanted her to touch him. He was powerful, but his darkness was so much stronger. The feel of her returning his affections, even innocently, pulled it closer to the surface. Ever closer. There was only so much he could take before it took over. How was he supposed to explain to her.. that he was not a good guy. Not even close. That he takes what he wants, and she is the anomaly. She is the only one saved from it.

But it was temporary. It was so tightly reined in, so hard to do it. So hard to hold it. So he swallowed, and tried to warn her without turning her away from him forever.

I can't- it broke off into a hum, his eyes closing, delightful images flashing in his mind of things he'd meant to warn her from. Even now he'd rather just go to her, show her what she didn't know. The terrible things, the wickedly wonderful things. He forced slow breaths, pinned his eyes open and locked on her soft russet gaze. Look at her. I don't want to lose her, do I?

Your touch unravels me, he said low, lamely, afraid it wasn't enough. It didn't tell her what lay beneath the surface. It didn't tell her the danger she danced with each time they met. You undo me. It's not a good thing. He wasn't making sense, was he? He didn't know how to explain it. And he'd so badly prefer showing her instead.

But he could still touch her. He could still do as he had that first day and try to awaken her senses to him. Try to make her feel their contact as intensely as he did. He definitely wanted that.

He stepped purposefully into her again. His lips grazed the line of her face, brushing lightly over her eyes, to her jaw, to her throat. So soft there, so sensitive. He followed it beneath, gently pushed her chin up as he kissed her tender skin with lips and tongue. He tasted her, savored her, ached for more. He nipped lightly, a lone little sting, and the slow kisses continued around to the side, just below her jaw. His breath heated against the dampness of his kisses.

Leliana, he breathed her name like a plea. Damn and he loved to say it.
Light for me..

[leliana]

I know what it is but I'm hoping that all is well
no harvest of green but it's still my heart to sell

She hesitated at his warning, her mouth lifting from his flesh, hovering there so that her breath rippled out over him. It was difficult to pause, more difficult than she would have anticipated, her own desires beginning to bubble beneath the surface, simmering there, stoked by his slow touches but more so the words he gave her, the little pieces he bestowed upon her. She closed her eyes and focused on her breaths, inhaling him in deeply and exhaling slowly, forcing herself to restrain, to keep herself from touching him.

He stepped from her and she ached, feeling vulnerable and alone without him near. One crimson-dipped leg lifted as if to follow him, to close the space, but she slowly pulled it back to the ground, listening to him, ears tipped forward. Her wings shifted from the leather to the black silk, just enough form to be held  upward by her side, but the rest pooling around her, clinging to her. She stilled, not following him yet.

But, before she knew it, he had closed the distance between them, and her lids lowered softly, her head tipping backward to expose her throat. “Would it be so bad to unravel?” she questioned, her voice a touch lower, an unusual husk seeping into its fog, darkening it in her mouth. It twisted around her innocence, the curiosity that peered out form her amber eyes, the desire to know, to understand him.

“I would put you back together again,” she breathed, her head dipping toward his flesh but pausing, hovering, desperate for just one more touch. But she listened to his pleas and abstained, kept herself from letting her lips trail down his neck, instead focusing on the way that he reached out to her instead. When his teeth closed on her flesh, her breath caught in her throat and she gasped lightly, unable to stop herself.

Answering his plea with one of her own, she murmured his name, “Dovev.” A single shiver raced up her spine as she opened her wide amber eyes, caught his gaze. “Why do I feel like you are frightened of me?”

I put everything I had into something that didn't grow
like going on a wild hunt, shooting arrows without a bow