Work Text:
The signs are simple, but Kháeis practiced them over and over. She can’t say why it feels so monumental, this specific, fairly mundane interaction. It’s not as though they haven’t signed before, although this is the first time she is attempting it without Bella to interpret.
First, she pinches the fingers of both hands together and tuches the tips: more.
(It’s all I can think when I’m around you: more. No matter how often I see you, it’s not enough. It will never be enough .)
Next, she shapes her dominant hand into a relaxed claw shape, sort of like a C. With her other hand flat, she places the fingertips on her palm and twists it: cookie. This is the trickiest bit, the one she practiced most.
(She knows the other woman keeps cookies stashed under her bed in Skyhold. It’s endearing, but it’s also heart-wrenching. How much deprivation must Issala have experienced as a saarebas that she would horde treats? How many years had she lived before she tasted something sweet? How many years before someone touched her lips with love?)
(I will lay your head in my lap and feed you cookies. Cakes. Whatever you like. All that I have, all that I can command–it is all yours, merely say the word.)
And finally, she places her right hand in the center of her chest (oh help, she’s looking at my breasts) and makes a little circle: please.
More cookies, please.
As soon as she finishes signing, Issala’s golden eyes light up. The unusual display of emotion is enough to have Kháeis’ heart pounding. Issala brings the strong, powerful fingers of one hand to her scarred lips, then brings the back of that hand down to the palm of the other. Good! She repeats it several times: Very good!
Kháeis blushes like a little kid with a crush. She can feel it. She wants to sign so many things– you have the most beautiful eyes; I want to kiss every one of your scars; I will never let anyone lock you away again– but she is so flustered that she can’t remember anything else, even her fingerspelling, which has gotten quite good. So she settles for repeating Issala’s last gesture: Thank you.
Hopefully, the hearts in her eyes will speak for themselves.