#handsignals

Hiding the grin she felt coming on, Nona glanced over her shoulder at the bulky man standing there, hands on his hips, a smirk playing on his own lips. “At least I’m getting some sun.”

A laugh burst from his chest, sudden and unexpected, and Nona swore butterflies were released into her stomach at the sound. “Well, I never thought I’d see the day.”

Davrin’s eyes were warm. Not quite like the sun, but in a more subtle way. Like a bowl of soup warming you from the inside out, or the richness of a cup of coffee on your tongue. He made her feel emotions she’d never really felt before. Made her feel seen, appreciated, loved. And she hoped she made him feel the same.

He settled beside her in the dirt, free of his shield and sword (and dressed a little more casual than normal), crossing his legs into a comfortable position. Assan squawked in the distance, probably getting into trouble no doubt, yet Davrin seemed more relaxed than he had in weeks. Maybe it was because the griffons were finally safe. Perhaps it was because they had a path forward.

Or maybe it was because of her.

Nona turned back to the beetle, finding it had turned to crawl down her arm and into the palm of her hand. 

“Is this how you spent your days in the Necropolis?” Davrin shifted slightly, his arm brushing against hers, and she stilled at the sudden touch and tried to remember to breathe. There were many things about Davrin that Nona loved, but the singular thing above all else she adored about him was his heart. There was an infinite well of kindness within him, though he always tried to hide it behind the Grey Warden persona.

“Sometimes. My job was… different from the other Mourn Watchers.” Nona wasn’t sure how much Davrin understood about the Mortalitasi and Nevarra, but she didn’t want to bore him if he wasn’t interested in the finer details. So instead of diving into a nerdy rant, she tilted her head towards him, a small grin crossing her face. “But bugs… they’re definitely an… interest. Hobby?” 

Holding her hand out to him, she watched as his eyes widened slightly, taking in the sight of the beetle as it moved around her palm again.

“Am I going to have to woo you with bugs instead of flowers, Nona?”

This time, she was the one to laugh. As tempting as that was, she figured he might not appreciate rooting around in the dirt to find her favorites. “No, Davrin. I think flowers would be more than enough. But you don’t have to do either.” Leaning forward, she pressed the softest of kisses against his cheek. “I’m happy enough just being here with you. Consider me wooed.”

Nona heard more than saw Davrin inhale deeply, and he turned at the same moment she moved to sit, a hand brushing against her jaw briefly before he tugged one of her braids playfully. “Is that so? Sounds like you’re getting a bit mushy, Ingellvar.”

“What can I say? You bring it out in me.” She bumped his shoulder with hers, waiting to see how he’d react. At first, he watched her with that soft expression he sometimes got: the quiet smile, the gentle eyes, his entire face relaxing as if he couldn’t quite believe his luck.

Then he reached into the pouch at his belt, retrieving a bundle of tiny flowers. There was a slight resemblance to lace, the small buds a brilliant shade of white that was absolutely gorgeous. They were bunched together along the stem, a pretty pattern that she loved.

“What’s that?” She asked as he spun the stem between his fingers, and she realized he was nervous. The leaves were similar to a fern’s, though it was clearly a different type of plant. “We don’t have flowers like that in Nevarra.”

“I don’t know what its medicinal name is, but my clan used to call it laceflower.” Davrin placed it into her open palm, gently and slightly away from where the beetle roamed. The scent of honey mixing with a more herbal scent tickled her nose. The flower. “I’m sure Emmrich probably knows more about it than I do. Or even Bellara. I just…” He rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes glancing at the statue towering over them. “It reminded me of you.”

Nona felt her cheeks heat, and she glanced at the pretty flower in her hand. The beetle had taken to climbing onto the stem, the scent luring it closer. She set the flower on the ground beside the Fen’harel statue, watching as the beetle continued its trek, slowly traversing the mountain of petals. Then she slipped her free hand into Davrin’s, shocking him only for a second before he linked his fingers with her, the warmth of his skin a balm to her sudden nerves.

“Thank you, Davrin. I’m glad you’re here.” 

Davrin pressed a kiss against the inside of her wrist, that cocky grin she loved so much curling his lips. Before a word could be uttered from his mouth, a squawk interrupted them, Assan descending like a falcon claiming its meal. He shoved himself between them, knocking Davrin over before jumping away, dancing against the rocks and singing a song of his own.

Nona laughed, covering her mouth when Davrin glanced at her, eyes wide but unable to hide his own amusement at the griffon’s antics.

“I feel like I’m being ganged up on.”

She shook her head, trying to stop the next laugh. But she failed and it came out as a choked giggle. Before she could stop him, Davrin reached out to wrap a hand around her wrist, pulling her closer. She landed against his chest with an oomph, the air expelling from her lungs at the landing. His hands settled on her hips and she glanced up into warm brown eyes, finding nothing but affection, adoration. Love.

A sensation of peace filled her and she closed the last of the distance between them, her lips finding his, knowing without a doubt, he’d be by her side until the end. And maybe, when Solas and Elgar’nan were gone, and Thedas finally found safety and peace, they’d find their own as well.