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for fenris
Magister Anguis had once belonged to an impressive Tevinter household. Once upon a time, the name had had weight and power behind it. Now, though he still had the title of Magister, it was widely known that his house was deeply in debt. He had sold most of his estate and slaves in effort to save face, keeping only a small house close to the edge of the Starkhaven border and three slaves; one young maid, a footman, and his most prized possession, a Dalish elf whom he kept close to him nearly every moment.
The Dalish elf was called Cervi by the Magister but that was not the name given to him by his Clan. It had been years since he had been called his given name and though Cyril kept it in his heart he was rather protective of who knew it. The two other elven slaves who tended to the house were teenagers, Cassia and Viridi, and even they knew him only by the name their master had given him.
The summer of 9:40 Dragon had been remarkable so far because the south had been plunged to chaos since the Nevarran Accords had been annulled. They were at war, with mages and templars bring death and fire every where they went. That and the tensions between the Empress and her cousin had boiled over into a Civil War that ravaged the Dales.
Chaos in the South brought profit for Tevinter, and Master Anguis had wanted to take advantage of that. He had been so desperate to regain his family's standings that he had even crossed the border into Starkhaven. He allied himself with mercenaries turned slavers and preyed on those caught up in the chaos. He was so set in the idea of finding a fortune by selling the disenfranchised that he had even brought Cassia, Viridi, and 'Cervi' with him - ignoring the fact that technically once they crossed the border the three were technically no longer in bondage. To him they were property, and always would be.
The night was warm, but not nearly as hot as it would have been north of Vyrantium. Cyril was finishing up setting up a bath that he and Anguis would have shared. Cassia and Viridi were cleaning up in the kitchen after creating a modest meal for their master. The Magister was in his study going over papers that tracked the transportation of the slaves his men had found.
He had no idea that those men were now likely dead, nor that the one who had attacked them had found information on him and his location. No one in the house would have dared to believe that the Magister would not make it through the night.
The Dalish elf was called Cervi by the Magister but that was not the name given to him by his Clan. It had been years since he had been called his given name and though Cyril kept it in his heart he was rather protective of who knew it. The two other elven slaves who tended to the house were teenagers, Cassia and Viridi, and even they knew him only by the name their master had given him.
The summer of 9:40 Dragon had been remarkable so far because the south had been plunged to chaos since the Nevarran Accords had been annulled. They were at war, with mages and templars bring death and fire every where they went. That and the tensions between the Empress and her cousin had boiled over into a Civil War that ravaged the Dales.
Chaos in the South brought profit for Tevinter, and Master Anguis had wanted to take advantage of that. He had been so desperate to regain his family's standings that he had even crossed the border into Starkhaven. He allied himself with mercenaries turned slavers and preyed on those caught up in the chaos. He was so set in the idea of finding a fortune by selling the disenfranchised that he had even brought Cassia, Viridi, and 'Cervi' with him - ignoring the fact that technically once they crossed the border the three were technically no longer in bondage. To him they were property, and always would be.
The night was warm, but not nearly as hot as it would have been north of Vyrantium. Cyril was finishing up setting up a bath that he and Anguis would have shared. Cassia and Viridi were cleaning up in the kitchen after creating a modest meal for their master. The Magister was in his study going over papers that tracked the transportation of the slaves his men had found.
He had no idea that those men were now likely dead, nor that the one who had attacked them had found information on him and his location. No one in the house would have dared to believe that the Magister would not make it through the night.
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"You do not need to make up for anything. My battles are my own, you need not feel blame or guilt for them."
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He brings everything over. "Can you show me?" He wanted to see the wound but he didn't want to force Fenris to be more exposed than he was comfortable.
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Still, he does as asked, pulling up his leggings, showing the nasty gash running up towards his thigh.
"It looks worse than it is."
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Once he's done, Fenris is cleaned and treated. He stands up to go toss out the water and clean his hands. "There you go," he explains. "You can go to sleep now. I'll be back once I have everything cleaned up."
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When Cyril finishes, he offers a smile.
"Thank you, that....has been a big help," he pauses, unsure for a moment, before taking the plunge and continuing his thought. "I'm sure I'll sleep better when you return."
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When he returns he puts out the lamp and gets very carefully into the bed. He doesn't want to disturb Fenris's wounds. He ends up lying much closer to Fenris than they have before. Part of it is because the bed is smaller than ones why might get in an inn, but he also really wants to be as close as possible to the other elf.
"Is this okay?" he asks as they both settle. He doesn't want to hurt Fenris needlessly.
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He allows Cyril's closeness, more than that, welcomes it gladly. His smile is soft, gentle, but one thing it is not is unsure.
"Yes. this is very much okay. Thank you for indulging me."
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"If this is indulging you, I'll happily do it every day."
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"You know, there would be no protest from me, if that were the case."
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Before he can reconsider it, Cyril closes more of the distance between then and kisses Fenris. It's very chaste and gentle, but when he pulls away he looks embarrassed. "I..." he starts, but he's already worried that maybe that kiss was a bad idea.
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He finds he doesn't want to, though. Not truly. He trusts Cyril, and that goes an awfully long way in his eyes. It's always hard earned. And so, his lips quick in a little smile, as he leans in to press a kiss of his own on Cyril's lips. Chaste to be sure, but a touch more lingering. He pulls back a little smile still there.
"I have wished to do that for a while."
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He chuckles, the noise of it pure relief. "Oh, me too," he admits after a moment. "Though next time I won't spring it on you." Consent is important to him, even more so now, and he never wants to violate's Fenris's autonomy.
He can't stop the smile from spreading across his face then, and he doesn't even try, as he settles back down. He feels light and happy, more so than he has in a long time. The relief of knowing that he hasn't ruined anything mixes with a giddy affection for Fenris. "I think I got carried away because I missed you so much."
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He lets out his own low chuckle, settling back down again, his hand hesitates for a moment, before moving to brush through Cyril's hair.
"Oh...thank you," he pauses, clearing his throat. "That came out more awkward than I intended. I missed you, too."
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That urge isn't helped when Fenris keeps touching him and moving his fingers through his hair. The motion is so soothing and Cyril can feel his eyelids dropping.
He supposes they'll always have tomorrow. "Then it's a good thing we're back together. And that we both can get some sleep. We can talk more in the morning?"
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He lets out a rumbling 'hmmm' him response, his own eyes starting to close as he settled into the bed, hand moving to rest on Cyril's shoulder.
"Yes, we can get properly caught up then. But now, I think sleep is vital."
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He settles in to sleep then, and sleeps better than he has since Fenris left.