♧♚ and ♗ [with reva being the one falling asleep uwu. he seems to be sleeping a lot in these, doesn't he?]
;; nonsexual acts of intimacy - @aibhleiss
♧: Your muse playing with their hair
“If you keep moving, da’len, I’m going to end up hurting you.” her fingers stopped working on his short hair, the braid half done between her skeletal fingers, red strands of hair over the scars. Her voice was calm as she tilted her chest forward looking down at the Child with a serious expression. It was strange how short his hair was considering most dalish that she had seen let their hair grow. Braiding shorter hair was not necessarily impossible, but it was harder and easier to hurt the scalp. She let him settle back as her attention moved back to the small pile of flowers that sat beside her, her left hand moved to grab one and wowing it’s stem in the braid carefully. Her gestures were trained as if she had done it multiple times before, but there was a clear and open smile over lips. Her mother had once done the same thing to her hair, the flowers had tones of red instead of the white ones that were now on his hair, and between the flowers were small golden suns.
Those golden suns had been replaced by small owls with time but on his hair there was no space for such small details. At least not for now. When the priestess stopped and got up, circling the Inquisitor to look at her master piece with an open smile cupping the side of his face.
“You look beautiful child.”
♚: Head scratches & ♗: Your muse falling asleep with their head in my muse’s lap.
The priestess almost envied how simple it seemed for the inquisitor to fall asleep. He seemed to enjoy the priestess’ company and how her fingers felt on his scalp as he read letters received by the nightingale and the lady Inquisitor. The priestess listened only when the Child sighed heavily at whatever was written on the papers, speaking only if asked her opinion. He was the face of a mainly human organization, surrounded by shem advisers. The priestess would keep a close eye on all of them, the same way that she knew they kept on her. He was one of the Children, the priestess had never spoken that aloud and she doubted she ever would, but even if she tried explaining it to them they would not understand what that meant. It was her duty to protect him from influences such as theirs, he had not been asked to be put where he was now so the priestess would keep him safe.
He might not know why the priestess is often absent in Skyhold, or perhaps understand why she visits alienages as often as she does, but perhaps with time he will. The lost Children inside the shem walls are as much as his people as the elves from his clan, they need as much protection and guidance as his brothers and sisters. The priestess’ hands stopped on his head as she saw the child’s breathing become rhythmic, a heavy sleep dragging him down as the papers simply piled over his chest. Perhaps he would understand it one day.
The priestess moved slowly, getting up but keeping him from waking. A gentle kiss is planted over his forehead before grabbing the papers over his chest, quick eyes moving over the small letters as she walked to his desk and placing them in a neat pile before leaving the room.
