#revasdami

Musical instruments always drew him. It was an aspect of being a bird after all, music drew up the desire to sing. He follows the sound, locating the source and slowly leaning against a pillar. Without sound he listens, the tune flowing through his mind and causing him to track it, listening to the way each note fell. 

As always, he cannot help but offer a vocal accompaniment 

rescue my muse || @revasdami || accepting

          ✖ Blood had long since crusted on his forehead, yet it still remained wet in his matted hair, slick on his hands && mouth. Dark eyes blink slow, half-lidded with an exhaustion that grew from his bones, a living thing, a nest of vines he was entangled in that pulled him deeper into the dirt. Every thought, movement, sound is a trailing light, backed by static && a sky painted with tender scars. Eyes close for a moment, the warmth leaking.

     Hands, on his arms, desperate. A voice from the aether that spins a silken web in his conscious, tugging at his eyelids, fighting the growth trying to bury him. For a moment he is entirely still, caught between the tug-of-war, not even breathing. Something more angry comes knocking, he feels himself being lifted, the vines ripping away from the ground, screaming. I want to sleep. The voice again, harsh, low... no, don’t. 

     Eyes finally open, the world a spinning vortex, or maybe he’s spinning, he can’t tell. His tongue feels like dirt in his mouth, his arms chains trying to pull him down; Kaey slips down the wall, but hands have him again, pull him up again. A face shrouded in a white halo, two green stars whispering his name. He blinks, a tired smile slipping onto his lips as he stares back, unaware -- it was just a dream, right?

     The voice doesn’t stop, the grip on him doesn’t fade. Fog lifting, he can hear his name, && it’s not so distant this time, not as cold. Fenris. He blinks once, twice, his head a ball on a loose screw, always wavering. Everything becomes clear, too clear, && he whines, trying to pull away again. Let me sleep. No. Why did this devilish angel want with him?

     “Please stay awake.” It says, those green stars still bouncing, whispering. Another smile, hands more firm on his arms, cradling his face.

     “Are you going to take me away?” Kaey asks, or at least he tries to -- it’s all a slur.

     “I’m going to take you home. Then you can sleep.” Warm voice, warm hands.

     “Fenris...” He’s being lifted again, an arm raised, hooked over a shoulder. His feet can’t move, but slowly they do, dragging a bit, && he holds on as much as he can, tired.

     “What is it?” The angel is so sweet, so warm. He turns his head, rests it against the man’s shoulder, then lifts his eyes, kisses his cheek softly.

     “Your eyes are... green stars.” Silence for a moment, the world stops rocking. There is a hand on his face again, those green eyes staring right through him. A sigh.

He saw it in the way her eyes glazed over at the elf’s distress.

This was no time for sentimentality, of course. They had so much to do and all the desperate pleas for help were overwhelming. They had all worn down with exhaustion under the pressure.

“Would you bring my Senna flowers?” he asked.

It might seem trivial compared to the other demands on their time, but Solas felt a surge of compassion for the man’s loss. His brows crinkled with concern and sadness. In all his loss, Solas shared the man’s desperation for comfort. If his grief could be eased in such a small way, then it was worthwhile.

 Before the Inquisitor could voice the answer, what Solas knew in his heart to be the right choice, he was interrupting. There was a softness in his voice.

“Inquisitor, I would like to help him.”

An offer. He hoped she would not be too angry with it.

          ✖ Kaey coughed, blood frothing at the corners of his          mouth, staining his lips && dribbling down his jaw.          He’d always known it would end like this, forced into          a blade, struck down && held in Fenris’s arms as the          world escaped him. He tries to smile for the elf, but it          only causes another couching fit, eyes closing.

           Blood spread across his chest, the source a wicked           blade driven completely through his stomach. It hurt,           && he hadn’t felt pain in so long...

           “I’m... I’m not afraid.” The Crow manages to whisper,           looking up at his love, his vhenan. For the last time it           seemed. I don’t want to leave you. “Please, I’m sorry,           I wanted the best for us...” He raises a shaky hand,           pressing his bloody fingers to the warrior’s cheek. He           tries another smile, the expression coming through           weakly, his features softening with death.