DAI: Blackwall's Quilted Coat
Something I've had on my phone for awhile.
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Though the sun was up, the chilled winds of the surrounding mountains still managed to creep over the naked flesh of her body.
It woke her, underneath the furs of Blackwall's bunk. Her bearded bear had left their shared embraced early that morning to assist in training some of recruits. He'd dressed, then leant down to kissed her upon the brow.
They'd stayed awake late into the night, and so she simply murmured her affections before falling back to sleep, laid on her front, head on her folded arms.
Now that she had woken, she found the bed too cold without Blackwall to heat it. So Orophim slipped from beneath the furs to grab her clothes which had been deposited on the floor the night before, and which Blackwall must have folded nearby that morning.
She smiled, feeling warm fill in her stomach. It grew each day they spend together.
Pulling on her dark blue tunic, and riding leggings before her knee high boots, she rose from the make-shift sleeping area. Even with the long sleeves it was freezing, and when she caught sight of the spare coat hanging from one of the wooden pillars, Orophim's smile turned shy.
She was sure he wouldn't mind. It was the coat he generally wore inside in the barn, a different one he used when training or below his armour. So she reached up for it with both hands, feeling the pleats and thick fabric. Her cheeks and elvhen ears heated as she bent her face into it, breathing in his scent: a mix of leather, wood, oil and the hay of the barn.
Like nothing else she'd smelt. Certainly nothing like where she'd grown up. It reminded her of... Home, despite him not being one of her kind. Of the forests where she'd lived, hunted.
When she slid it over her shoulders, taking one side in either hand, she laughed when she found it reached her knees.
It was warm though...
She'd never worn something of his, and a blush came to her pale cheeks once more. She wondered if he would mind, surely not...
There would be one way to find out.
Orophim closed it up, buttoning up the ties running down the front. The sleeves drowned her hands, but she pushed them up enough to use her hands. Doing so as she descended the stairs.
The Inquisitor wasn't in any need of help that day - in fact Orophim had been made to take a break. So she collected the tea pot she kept by the fire pit in the barn to make some breakfast tea.
As it brewed, she sat on one of the hay stacks that made up a few seats. It didn't take long before the water was boiling, and she took a metal cup to fill before putting the tea bag inside. Fragranced flavour; reminding her of home. Not Dalish made (as they used different leaves) but still good.
Orophim hadn't known how long she stayed there, clasping the cup between her palms to warm her further. Her brown eyes took in Blackwall's work station, where he would whittle his pieces of wood with just the skill of his hands, his fingers.
She heard footsteps approach, from the opening opposite the stable side. Her eyelashes brushed her face before she lifted her eyes.
Blackwall, his face flushed and his black hair slicked by with a slight sheen. His grey eyes were widened slightly, as he took her in with deep breaths from training.
Orophim put her cup down quickly, rising to face him. "Ah," she began. She lifted her arms up from her sides, the sleeves of his coat fell further down because of her action. "I borrow this to keep the cold out. I hope you don't mind-"
He started towards her, raising a hand to threat his fingers through hair as he cupped the back of her head. Warmth bloomed on her forehead, his lips pressed against her skin, only slightly tickling her with his beard.
"It suits you," he rumbled against her skin, sending that warm part deep in her stomach, in her heart and soul skittering again.
"You don't mind?" She smiled, when he pulled back enough to gaze down at her.
He chuckled roughly, in that voice she adored. His grey eyes simmered with feeling. "Every man likes to see his lass in his clothes."
"Good," her smile widened, mischief dancing in her mahogany eyes. "Because I was going to wear it open with nothing beneath..."
Blackwall coughed into his hand quickly, a blush brushing his own cheeks above his dark beard. She laughed heartedly.
Blackwall chuckled with her, the one she loved when he threw his head back and rumbled from deep in his throat.
"I look forward to that, Lass. But first, some of the recruits could learn dealing with a fast opponent. I thought you'd like to be the one to show them that strength isn't everything," he smiled proudly, placing a hair behind her pointed ear.
Her heart swelled. "I can do that," and though she was supposed to be on a break, she wouldn't mind sparring with some of the new soldiers.
Blackwall helped her into her armour, doing up a few of the buckles to save time before he placed his spare coat, folded, onto his work space near the stairs. He grinned, "We'll save that for later."
She snorted at the light dancing in his eyes, the playfulness and mischief she had displayed earlier.
He picked up her blade and shield from where they had stored them, when she'd come back from the last mission for the inquisitor the night before.
"Here," he handed her them. She pushed her arm through the harness of her shield and tightened a hand around the handle of her blade.
She stepped up to him as she passed, placed a heated kiss upon his lips before trudging off towards the training ground, armour clanging through mud as a fine rain began to fall.
He could honestly say that he would never get tired of watched her hips sway as she walked from his barn, metal encasing her body, with a shield in one hand and a sword in the other.
His warrior, who had worn his coat which swamped her feminine frame, warning his once damaged heart, despite him being unworthy of her.
Blackwall was wholly in love, enchanted and he thoroughly enjoyed watching the recruits startled and awed at the thrashing she gave them. Barking orders for them to keep their shields up, or to spread their feet further to keep from falling, dropping their shield and in a real fight - dying.
By the end of the few hours, drenched in rain and mud, but still the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes upon - he was burning with pride. The new recruits had learned much from her, and bowed respectfully as they went to rest up in the barracks.
Blackwall nodded his head to the barn, an invitation, her choice as she might prefer to go and have a warm bath but she grinned, and he followed by her side as they trudged to the fire which had been tended to while they were away.
As they shed their armour, and were left with muddy, yet dried clothes - he handed her his coat to keep her warm.
Sitting beside the fire together, he relaxed in the feel of her beside him, the night sky above them and a warm crackling flame before them.
When it became late, she stood and pulled on his hand. He always wondered whether she would stay with him, or got back to her more comfortable room in the keep. Blackwall didn't like to ask, knew that it was cold and the bed rough in his barn and he was always humbled when he chose that, him, over a feather filled bed.
He wanted... One day he wanted to give her more however, than furs and a barn. He would build her a house, a cottage and they would train the yard, even in the rain, before coming in to sit by the fire before going to bed together.
With the fire extinguished, and the barn dark aside from the moonlight, they walked up the stairs together.
And she indeed showed him her magnificent form in only his quilted under coat. He would never forget the sight of her, his love, for the rest of his life.