Work Text:
Damaris was weary, her limbs so heavy that walking up the great staircases of Skyhold seemed more difficult than going head-to-head with any number of enemies. No matter how much fighting she had done in her life, no matter how many battles were won or lost with her on the front lines, the aftermath was always the same: a bone-deep exhaustion, a mind as blank as vellum, and a desire for nothing but a safe place to rest.
She reached the top of the last staircase and took a fortifying breath, closing her eyes for a brief moment to steel herself for the trek down the corridor (which suddenly seemed miles too long).
Just as she was about to continue on to her door, a hand suddenly settled on the small of her back, firm and proprietary.
“Alright then?” Sera said, her voice softer than Damaris had probably ever heard it.
“I'm weighing the pros and cons of simply sleeping right here in the hallway,” Damaris told her, managing a half-smile. “But yes.”
Sera laughed, still quiet, still standing close as though they were in a room filled with people and she didn't want to be overheard. Damaris warmed slightly at the thought.
“I don't think that Seeker woman would appreciate it if you did,” Sera admitted. “She was well miffed at me after she tripped over my legs that time I fell asleep in the larder.”
“Why were you asleep in the larder, again?”
Sera waved a negligent hand. “That's not important, is it? What is important is I had every right to be there.”
Damaris tried to laugh, but she was so tired it came out as more of a wheeze. She leaned against the stone wall, facing Sera, and regarded her for a moment through heavy lidded eyes.
“What?” Sera asked as the seconds ticked by. “Is there something on my face?”
She rubbed at her cheeks with comical vigor, and Damaris managed to laugh for real as she reached over to lightly shove at her forehead. “Only a whole lot of snub-nosed mischief.”
“Oi,” Sera protested, lightly punching Damaris on the arm with a wide grin. Damaris grabbed her wrist and pulled her close, a task that probably would have been easy even if Sera hadn't gone along with it willingly.
“How are you not exhausted?” Damaris said, her voice little more than a whisper. “I'm about to bloody keel over.”
Sera shrugged, inching even closer in a way she probably thought was sneaky. Damaris knew better, and smiled.
“You should work on your stamina, then,” Sera said innocently enough, but the hand that tugged on the waistband of Damaris's trousers made her true intentions quite clear.
“I suppose you're right,” Damaris said, but before Sera could smirk in triumph - as she almost always did, as if Damaris wasn't already hers, as if Damaris needed any cajoling at all, usually – Damaris continued: “But perhaps when I'm not about to fall asleep standing up.”
Sera scoffed, removing her hand and crossing her arms. “I thought you lot were proper warriors, not the sort to need a nap after a measly battle.”
“Oh? Is that what you thought?” Damaris said, smiling slightly even as her head began to tip forward of its own accord.
“Y'know, I don't think I've ever seen you like this,” Sera mused, reaching up to tug a little meanly at Damaris's long, messy plait. “I'm tempted to take advantage.”
Damaris snorted inelegantly. “You're certainly welcome to try.”
Sera sighed, not unhappily, and leaned her head until it was nestled snugly in Damaris's bosom. Damaris brought her (weak, sore) arms up and loosely wrapped them around her, and they stood still like that for several moments in comfortable silence. Damaris was privately pleased with how affectionate Sera was being, as the elf was equally as likely to dance nimbly out of her reach as she was to initiate an embrace.
Damaris had almost fallen asleep - pleasantly warm and content despite the fact that she was still standing - when Sera began to vigorously shake her head back and forth from its spot between Damaris's breasts, startling the qunari into loud, boisterous laughter.
“Shh!” Sera hissed, but she was laughing, her whole body shaking with mirth; Damaris thought that she was probably more tired than she was letting on. “You're gonna wake up the whole bloody keep!”
“And whose fault is that, exactly?” Damaris whispered back, feeling silly and young in a way she hadn't in years. Sera had that effect, she found.
“Point,” Sera said. She stood on her tip-toes and pulled on Damaris's braid until the qunari obligingly leaned down and planted a kiss on her lips. “Now let's get you to bed, yeah?”
“Yes please,” Damaris murmured into Sera's mouth before straightening once more, sighing when her back twinged at the action. She sometimes wished that Sera was a little taller, or she a little shorter.
Unaware of Damaris's internal musings, Sera turned around and began to make her way to the Inquisitor's chambers with Damaris's braid still in her grasp, allowing her to tug the qunari along as though she were a dog on a lead. (Normally Damaris wouldn't allow this, would flick Sera's ear or pinch her side until she let go, but Damaris was simply too tired to do anything more than follow along obediently. Were she a dog, and Sera her master, she would probably come off as spectacularly well-trained.)
They arrived at her chambers, Sera dropping her braid in favor of preparing for bed. Sera had only slept with her in her chambers once or twice, but Damaris reckoned they were both tired enough to avoid any morning-after awkwardness, especially since the morning wouldn't be after anything other than innocent, blissful sleep.
They stripped to their underthings unhurriedly, too tired to so much as leer at one another or douse the lights, before they tumbled gracelessly into the large four-poster without further fanfare. Sera curled around Damaris's back as well she could, mumbling something unintelligible into the spot between her shoulder blades. Damaris thought it sounded along the lines of 'we should do this more often', but that might have been wishful thinking on her part; Sera was open with how she felt for Damaris in her actions, but rarely did she bother to put it into words.
Either way Damaris hummed in response, her lips pulling up at the corners despite herself, and was sleeping deeply within moments.
(The morning after wasn't awkward at all.)