#(while quietly seething that yes they were still involved technically but its not the saaaaame)

[selenelavellan]

HWRC Redux Part Five

One Two  Three  Four

Dirthamen, Fear, and Deceit are @feynites

Marriage is a complicated concept.

It comes with all sorts of bells and whistles; promises and vows and obligations laced with expectations. Joining your life with another isn't something to be taken lightly, and Selene is no stranger to the inherent risks in such a venture. Had run off largely to avoid them, really.

Unsurprisingly, it is much harder to explain to a God that you did not mean to marry them, after the fact.

If she were more talented with her words, she thinks, she could do a better job of this. Could explain that, no, she thought they were really just birds, and that while she felt affection for them had not even considered the possibility that accepting a ring she had thought they'd found on a street somewhere would create a marriage bond strong enough to pull someone out of the fade and into her living room.

Dirthamen tries to explain that that is not precisely what happened, but Selene is more preoccupied with bridging one misunderstanding at a time. Asking about lost secrets of magic and math and science can come later.

(Hopefully.)

Somehow she still ends up traveling through a magic mirror (Des right behind her because he adamantly refused to stay at home) and stepping out into a land that Alaris would give his left arm just to know for sure was real.

Something like guilt pulls at the pit of her stomach (it shouldn't be her; she abandoned her culture, her people. Someone else should be doing this, someone with loyalty, someone who deserves to know it wasn't all lost) while she follows someone she used to whisper prayers to during fights with her father or troubles with her studies through a large garden, hand held by an elf who is sometimes a raven that she once tried to keep away from her mothers grave by way of a cedar branch.

Part of her still thinks this is all some elaborate hallucination, or prank.

A quick glance up to find towers and spiraling staircase floating above them, and it becomes harder and harder to dispute the reality of her situation.

“This will be our home,” Dirthamen states, two large doors made from a stone she doesn't recognize opening before him.

It is a castle.

It is....it is an actual, magical, castle. Dark and gleaming, flames of golds and greens burning in torches and chandeliers. Walls covered in murals and mosaics and tall, thin windows to let in precise beams of light over the perfectly polished floors. Fear fluffs their wings slightly from where they are perched on her shoulder, and something in the corner of her eye darts away too quickly for her to catch.

Des looks as though he has just won the lottery on his birthday while being told his favorite holiday is happening twice this year, and that he now has the power to make people orgasm on demand.

Selene feels nauseous.

“Do you like it?” Dirthamen asks, turning to look at her, face hidden beneath a mask.

Selene opens her mouth to answer; 'its very creepy and I'm not sure if you know what haunted means but also almost certainly that' would probably be rude and Gods aren't really known for handling insults well (and she's already got to divorce him, she supposes) so instead she opts for  “It is a very...elegant look.”

He nods, and she supposes that even if it isn't the compliment he wanted, he doesn't seem to have taken offense to it which makes it a win for her.

There is a quick tour then, where Dirthamen points out places and monuments she has never heard of that all sound interesting, but she is still unsure of which questions will and won't offend. She gets strange stares from the people they pass, many dropping to their knees as their group walks past; eyes peeking up from masks and long bangs to stare curiously at her. She's not sure if it's the clothing, the bruise still apparent on her nose, or the hand holding that is doing it, but it only exacerbates the feeling of being misplaced that pervades her, here.

Finally, they pass through a long hall without the presence of others, arriving at another pair of large stone doors that echo the first.

“These will be our chambers,” Dirthamen announces, turning around to face Selene again.

She blinks up at him.

“...Ours?”

He blinks back.

“Typically, those with a marriage bond share a bedroom. Their first night together traditionally involves...some sort of physical reaffirmation to their bond. Often in a way that is sexual in nature.”

Selene nearly chokes on her own spit.

“I-well now, hold on, I never-we're not-I mean I know you say we are but I didn't-That is, I know that you're...” She gestures vaguely to his person with both hands, pulling her grip from Deceits “...you, but that doesn't mean you get to just-just-decide that I'm supposed to-I thought you were birds, I'm not down for bestiality that's a hard no ok, I'm not-no, I mean-no, I mean no!”

“I'll volunteer as tribute,” Des chimes in from behind her, and she has to resist the urge to flick at his ear.

“You are not the one we are bonded to,” Deceit points out in a near sneer before trying to take Selenes hand in back in their own, only for her to pull back from them again. They pout while Fear speaks up. “We would not force you,” They add.

“You..” She laughs incredulously and drags a hand down her face. “You've pulled me away from my home, my work, my life, after lying to me for nearly a month, forced me into a bond I didn't know I was agreeing to and uprooted any sense I had of what I thought was a story versus what was tangible! You followed me to my home and moved in under false pretenses, and while I may not have known what was going on, apparently you all did, and thought that was perfectly fine! You have robbed me of things I thought were truths, were absolutes, were facts of history-not to start in on the fact that apparently our gods have been in hiding and unperturbed by the plight of our people while our lands and lives are taken at the hands of anyone else who sets their sights on them-but thank fuck you're not going to rape me! What a relief! Absolutely, making this one, single concession makes up for the rest of it! What heroes, what princes, what-what-what...UGH!” She throws her arms up in the air, storming off and back down the hall alone, needing space, needing air, needing something, anything familiar and reassuring.

Des hums, hands on his hips as he watches Selene vanish into the shadows.

“She might need more time to adjust there, babe.”

“I can't imagine you are any help in that regard,” Deceit gripes. “Injuring her and trailing where you are unwanted and uninvited.”

“You're going to need my help if you want to keep her around,” Des shrugs. “Clearly, you're no good at this.”

“We were doing just fine before you barged in-”

“From what Selene has told me, you went from choking on a crunch-berry and shedding feathers all over the apartment to announcing you were part of a god and showing up naked in her bed, so, no. I don't think you did as great as you think.”

Deceits shoulders raise in frustration before they storm off, following Selenes path down and out the hall.

Des sighs and pats Dirthamens shoulder consolingly. “Don't worry; Selene'll come around. You're actually her type, if she could calm down long enough to notice.”

Dirthamen nods, slowly. “How could I go about showing her?”

Des looks up, tapping thrice on his bottom lip before they spread into a large, devious grin.

“What do you have to work with?”

–

“Selene,” Deceit calls for the umpteenth time, as she only increases her pace further, taking twists and turns down hallways she didn't see during the tour. They finally snag her wrist when she swings open a door and nearly steps into what appears to be an entirely empty room. Empty of everything; ceiling, floors, walls. Just an empty abyss that stretches out into infinity. Deceit pulls her back before she can fall (or float?) into the room, quickly closing the door behind her. “You should not run off like that,” they warn.

“Why am I here?” She demands.

“Because...” Deceit hesitates. “Because we love you.”

“You don't even know me,” She sighs. “You're...projecting. From isolation, probably.”

“We love you,” Deceit repeats with conviction.

“Dirthamen only met me a few hours ago,” Selene points out. “We've barely had a real conversation. He tells me things and I...”she sighs, hand tearing down her face again. “And I yell at him. That's not love. That's certainly not marriage. Who would want to spend their life doing that?”

“You are upset. We upset you, and I am sorry for that. We did not mean to overwhelm you. We were excited.”

“Yeah, I heard what you were 'excited' for,” She scoffs. “You know, Des really would be a better choice if that's what you're looking for. He'd love to live here, and that sort of thing is right up his alley.”

“I did not mean...we did not bring you here for sexual encounters. You have shared your home with us; we wished to return the favor. That is part of being partners, yes?”

“Yeah,” Selene admits, suddenly sheepish. “Yeah...I'm sorry. I didn't mean to...I just don't understand this. Any of it.”

“Ask.”

Selene raises an eyebrow.

“Knowledge is under our purview. If you do not understand something, ask. So long as the answer would not endanger you, we will gladly give it to you.”

Letting out a long breath, Selene nods. She steps towards the walls, and points at a large, glowing symbol. “What is that?”

“It is a rune. Some are enchanted, but this one is more decorative. It means 'now you must endure'. A reminder, for our people, and ourselves.”

“It's writing...?” Selene murmurs, eyes narrowing as she inspects it more closely. “It doesn't look anything like the trade language...”

“It is elvhen. Do you not recognize it?”

“Written elvhen isn't...I mean it's not really a thing. The language itself is largely guarded by our keepers; it's not known. Certainly not fluently.”

“Interesting,” Deceit muses.

“Is that what everyone else here is speaking as well? Elvhen? Like, fully fluent elvhen?”

“Yes,” they say “We learned common to communicate with the outside world, when necessary. To read maps and street signs and translate ideas where magic is less superfluous. Ideas in your world are shared with words and symbols, but here we could share them in concepts; feelings, magical energies, auras. It was an adjustment.”

“Will you teach me?” Selene asks.

Deceit tilts their head. “I could. But there is a quicker way, with our marriage bond. If you are open to it, I could share the knowledge with a simple spell.”

“What sort of spell?”

“It would require a physical link,” They admit, quickly adding “Not a long one. But for language, mouths are often the easiest catalyst for the transfer.”

“Is this some sort of trick to kiss me?” Selene asks, mouth quirking slightly.

“I assure you, my tricks are much more clever than that.”

She snorts.

Turns, and looks back at the rune, finger tracing lightly over the bottom rung of it.

“...alright then.”

She turns around to face them, only to find Deceit already leaning towards her. Their thumb lands gently on her chin, tilting her head down just enough to line up with their own. She swallows, as they begin to close the gap-

and suddenly pull away.

Selene stares in a sort of numb shock while they hold an internal argument of some kind. Finally, Deceits shoulders slump, their fingers lacing through hers as they lead her back out the hall.

“You should come with me,” They sigh, reluctantly walking her down a large staircase and into another hallway, where Des and Fear and Dirthamen are all standing.

Dirthamen shifts awkwardly in his robes as they approach, and Selene looks up at him in curiosity.

“Did something happen?” She asks.

“I wanted to apologize,” He admits. “I did not mean to upset you by bringing you here. I was only...overcome. My judgment is not always the best, when that happens. If we have caused you any discomfort, I apologize for that as well. I do care for you, and even if you do not return my feelings I would very much like for you to stay here with us. I have...” He hesitates, and Des nudges him slightly, gesturing for him to continue. “I have arranged for you to have access to my libraries. All of them, any that you would like. This is the largest of them, and so it was recommended that I start you here. If you desire more specialized subjects, please do not hesitate to ask me. I would very much like for you to be happy, here.”

Two sturdy oak doors open inwards behind him, revealing a space larger than her entire apartment building that is packed full of books. Shelves line each wall, stretching up to the raised ceilings. There are tables and chairs full of elves with scrolls and parchment papers, and only the soft hum of pages flipping pervades the silence of the room.

Her gaze flits from sign to sign, each covered in writing that she can not decipher.

A library larger than she ever dreamed.

And not a single thing in it that she can read.

Dirthamen seems to pick up on her disappointment, at least.

“Do you not like it?”

“It's a great apology,” She assures him “But I uh...I don't read, or speak, elvhen.”

“Oh.”

...

“Kiss me?”

Dirthamens head tilts as she spins around to look at him.

“To do the spell thing,” She explains quickly. “Deceit mentioned it, and I thought-I mean, you don't have to, obviously, I just thought-”

“If you want me to, I have no objections to the matter,” Dirthamen assures her, stepping closer.

“What about...” She taps on the side of her face, indicating towards his mask.

Dirthamen makes a soft 'ah' sound, before removing it.

Selene swallows, her mouth suddenly dry.

His skin is a deep ocean blue, eyes bright in contrast as long dark strands of hair fall across his cheeks without the mask to hold them back. His lips form from nothing, suddenly pale and pink and warm. Plush and pliable as they press to hers, carefully prying her mouth open as she feels the tingle of magic press against her; like a shared breath, from his body to hers, spreading down every inch of her body until her fingertips feel like they are buzzing from the thrill of it. Her eyes drift closed, body relaxed and responsive as she answers him eagerly. Small questions filling her mind along with his knowledge, that she responds to in kind without even meaning to. Four arms wrap around her waist and hips, pulling her close to a still robed body, her own arms wrapping around a long, slender neck without even thinking about it while his magic courses through her, filling her mind, pressing against magical reserves she hadn't even realized existed. Soothing flames from raging infernos to something more akin to bonfires as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

She doesn't even realize how long it has been until she has to pull back to breathe.

Her forehead is pressed to his, eyes half-lidded while she hears an echo of a single thought from him, a word with new meaning and old memories wrapped up between them.

Vhenan.

She clears her throat, less overcome now by her hormones and her body's desires, and takes a small step back. For space to breathe, ostensibly.

“I um...” She swallows, and licks her lips, still tingling with energy. “I'm going to go explore the library now. I...will see you in our room later?”

Dirthamen stares back at her, skin buzzing with motes of lights before nodding.

“I look forward to it.”

#HWRC Redux AU #dirthalene #selene lavellan #took some worldbuilding liberties #hope thats ok #i needed a good excuse for the thing <_< #selene afterwards 'what on earth /was/ that' #deceit '/concepts/' #(while quietly seething that yes they were still involved technically but its not the saaaaame)