fic: Feathers And Down
Oct. 6th, 2009 06:52 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bonnefoisTitle: Feathers and Down
Series: FE9
Character/Pairing: Ulki/Rhys
Rating: PG
Word count: 592
A/N: November 2nd - Fire Emblem 9/10, Ulki/Rhys: Cuddling, softness - hidden inside your wings. Title comes from a Cardigans song.
The first watch was over. As the night wore on, Ulki closed his eyes. The dark was impentrable past the firelight, Still, even with this blindness, he heard the rustling of settling leaves, wings of birds shifting in sleep, night insects humming, and the crunching of approaching footsteps. His eyes fluttered open to see the sickly Beorc standing there in his flowing white robs. A chipped white cup was balanced upon a colorless saucer.
“I brought you some tea,” he said.
Uki took the cup almost more out of surprise than actual desire. He’d learned how to brew tea for Reyson’s sake, but it wasn’t his drink of choice.
The sickly Beorc sat next to him. It was too close for comfort, though this Beorc seemed adroit at such things. Ulki felt reserved towards him, and yet he could not bring himself to say no.
He set his tea aside to cool. The sickly Beorc took this as some kind of sign to move even closer.
“I’m cold, aren’t you? I hope you don’t find me too forward.”
“No,” Ulki found himself murmuring, despite himself.
The Sickly Beorc snuggled tight against him, the face to his wings. They were rather plain wings, without his king’s glorious plumage, or the soft down of a Heron. And yet, the sickly Beorc thought they were something special, a sentiment he said quite often. Of course, it was merely a awe of flying; had he run into Janaff first, it’d be his partner that the sickly Beorc would be following, not him.
Ulki blinked. Beorc mating customs were confusing to him, and yet he suddenly had the niggling feeling that he was being indirectly courted by a sickly, fragile little slip of a man. The sickly Beorc looked up at him through his lashes, and they were very thick, and feminine lashes. Everything about him was soft and squishy, and easily broken. Instead of making Ulki feel disgust for a helpless Beorc, he felt almost protective.
He nuzzled into Ulki’s feathers with a kind of childlike glee that Ulki had only seen in regards to himself.
“They’re so soft,” the sickly Beorc murmured.
“Hawk wings aren’t as soft as Heron wings.”
“Oh? I don’t think Prince Reyson would let me ride him or touch his feathers.”
“I think not,” Ulki said drily.
“But you do,” the sickly Beorc said. His voice was dreamy, almost giddy. He sighed happily and rested his head against Ulki’s shoulder. His eyelids drooped, and he held tight to one arm of Ulki’s.
“Do you mind if I sleep out here?”
The firelight crackled, and others camp members stirred in their sleep. Nothing could sneak up upon this Beorc here, for he would catch even a spirit floating past. This was the safest spot in all the camp to be.
“..Do as you wish,” Ulki said.
The Beorc were a strange race, but they weren’t without their fascinating aspects. Ulki studied the sickly Beorc as he fell asleep, his auburn hair turned another shade entirely in the firelight, his face peaceful in whatever dreaming. Something within Ulki unwound, a tight knot of resistance burnt away. First it was a tug at the corner of his lips, an unwilling expression to lead him to the truth that he cared, he cared.
He never stood a chance.
Series: FE9
Character/Pairing: Ulki/Rhys
Rating: PG
Word count: 592
A/N: November 2nd - Fire Emblem 9/10, Ulki/Rhys: Cuddling, softness - hidden inside your wings. Title comes from a Cardigans song.
The first watch was over. As the night wore on, Ulki closed his eyes. The dark was impentrable past the firelight, Still, even with this blindness, he heard the rustling of settling leaves, wings of birds shifting in sleep, night insects humming, and the crunching of approaching footsteps. His eyes fluttered open to see the sickly Beorc standing there in his flowing white robs. A chipped white cup was balanced upon a colorless saucer.
“I brought you some tea,” he said.
Uki took the cup almost more out of surprise than actual desire. He’d learned how to brew tea for Reyson’s sake, but it wasn’t his drink of choice.
The sickly Beorc sat next to him. It was too close for comfort, though this Beorc seemed adroit at such things. Ulki felt reserved towards him, and yet he could not bring himself to say no.
He set his tea aside to cool. The sickly Beorc took this as some kind of sign to move even closer.
“I’m cold, aren’t you? I hope you don’t find me too forward.”
“No,” Ulki found himself murmuring, despite himself.
The Sickly Beorc snuggled tight against him, the face to his wings. They were rather plain wings, without his king’s glorious plumage, or the soft down of a Heron. And yet, the sickly Beorc thought they were something special, a sentiment he said quite often. Of course, it was merely a awe of flying; had he run into Janaff first, it’d be his partner that the sickly Beorc would be following, not him.
Ulki blinked. Beorc mating customs were confusing to him, and yet he suddenly had the niggling feeling that he was being indirectly courted by a sickly, fragile little slip of a man. The sickly Beorc looked up at him through his lashes, and they were very thick, and feminine lashes. Everything about him was soft and squishy, and easily broken. Instead of making Ulki feel disgust for a helpless Beorc, he felt almost protective.
He nuzzled into Ulki’s feathers with a kind of childlike glee that Ulki had only seen in regards to himself.
“They’re so soft,” the sickly Beorc murmured.
“Hawk wings aren’t as soft as Heron wings.”
“Oh? I don’t think Prince Reyson would let me ride him or touch his feathers.”
“I think not,” Ulki said drily.
“But you do,” the sickly Beorc said. His voice was dreamy, almost giddy. He sighed happily and rested his head against Ulki’s shoulder. His eyelids drooped, and he held tight to one arm of Ulki’s.
“Do you mind if I sleep out here?”
The firelight crackled, and others camp members stirred in their sleep. Nothing could sneak up upon this Beorc here, for he would catch even a spirit floating past. This was the safest spot in all the camp to be.
“..Do as you wish,” Ulki said.
The Beorc were a strange race, but they weren’t without their fascinating aspects. Ulki studied the sickly Beorc as he fell asleep, his auburn hair turned another shade entirely in the firelight, his face peaceful in whatever dreaming. Something within Ulki unwound, a tight knot of resistance burnt away. First it was a tug at the corner of his lips, an unwilling expression to lead him to the truth that he cared, he cared.
He never stood a chance.
