This was originally meant to be uploaded during the Hatari Festival banner (did you really think for even a minute that I would the miss the chance to write about the new alt?), but I decided to hold off until Azura's birthday so that I could christen it as the annual birthday fic. It all worked out in the end, considering the (as of this writing) current voting gauntlet. Free Hatari Azura for everyone for her birthday? Use those flags, nimrods! I mean, it's fine if Corrin and Elise win too, but... you know what I'm saying, I don't have to explain myself! Look fellas: if Azura wins this, I'll upload another drabble I have on the backburner based on the recent FEH comic where she goes gaga over cats. Get to it!
Word count: 750 words.
To Sing to You
Corrin is the first to break away, thin lips parting with an unremitting hunger; blood crimson boring into golden amber.
"Settle down," she laughs when he pulls her back in, harmonious wiles lulling him deeper and deeper into an unshakable trance with each fluttery chord he thinks to wring from the goose flesh on her shoulder. "We still have the entire evening ahead of us!"
A soft, honeyed murmur passes through his lips with as much ease as the kisses and notes he's stolen—a rumbling growl of pride and joy the likes of which only a fearsome dragon of Valla can provide; her assurance alone is enough to leave him in an ear-wiggling stupor. "How can I?" he sighs into crook of her neck, leaning almost the whole of his weight on her.
"Quite easily!" she says with a soundless step back, sun-kissed heel bumping against the foot of their bed; her playful protests, try as she might to voice them, are belied and hopelessly drowned out by the ticklish lilts that escape her with each tender mark he leaves. The simple futility of it all leaves her fleeting resistance all but quashed, and she, just as lost and transfixed in their frivolous flight of fancy as he.
"Come here," Azura relents with a grin so sweet, their hands finding purchase on each other as she leans back and brings him with her onto the bed—a bundle of laughter, entangled limbs, and ignorant bliss.
A homely silence fills the air once the laughter subsides, but the haze itself never ceases. Corrin spends it paying gentle reverence to every ethereal inch of her person, fingers combing through cascading tresses and gossamer silk before entwining with her own.
"You were so amazing at the festival," he says while lifting himself from her bosom, his eyes half-lidded but his desire twofold. "The songs, the dances, every moment of your performance—no, every second you were on stage. It was like I was watching you for the first time again."
The songstress giggles. "The Hatari certainly know how to celebrate," she says, ruffling his hair and brushing his ears as he lies back down. "And the Heron are such wondrous people. Leanne is every bit as compassionate as they say. I'm so grateful to have met her, so fortunate to have partaken in such an inspiring duet, and yet..."
"Hmmm?" the prince hums. "Azura?"
"It's a sobering thought," she says. "The beorc and laguz, I mean. Their plight seems so distant to us, yet all too familiar... To think that such discord could fester not only within the confines of our own song, but within the melodies of countless others as well. On the one hand, I suppose it may be humbling to know that none of us are alone in our suffering. All the same, it is equally disheartening to realize that no matter where you may go, strife and hardship always seem to follow. Can no world ever truly know peace?"
"All the more reason to fight even harder," he yawns, eyes fluttering. "So that one day we won't have to anymore, and everyone can have a happy ending, and you and I can sing and dance the nights away without a care in the world..."
"Mm," she sighs. "I would love nothing more, my sweet prince. Were these festivities not a reminder of what we must cherish and protect, of what we stand to lose should our resolve waver, perhaps I wouldn't be feeling this way—this refreshed and renewed. The beauty of combat, without the creeping shadow of fear that so often lurks behind it; to know its face for even one day, is all I need to strive for it that much more."
"You do fight as gracefully as you dance," he lazily assures. "Maybe that's why I loved your performance so much. A fearless Azura, without any lingering pain or hesitation to hold her back..."
"Mm," Azura shifts all of a sudden, and Corrin finds himself nestled in her lap. "Leanne taught me a song while we were together. It's in an ancient tongue that few know of and even fewer understand, so I'm afraid I may not be the best person to convey it. Still, I thought I'd share it with you, so long as we're here."
"Please," he says, reaching for her hand. "If it's sung by you, there's no way it can be bad. Take it away."
She laughs, light and feathery. "Gladly."
