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“What color would you say my eyes are?”
The question came completely out of the blue, instantly catching him off guard. “Sorry?” Thom asked, flashing the Inquisitor a curious look over his shoulder.
Danella Treveylan had been sitting at the vanity in her private quarters, supposedly getting ready for the day. However, it seemed as though she had been arrested by the sight of her own reflection instead. Thom had been making the bed behind her in the meantime, but his hands froze against the heavy sheets as he glanced back at her.
“My eyes,” Dani repeated, swiveling her head from side to side as she inspected herself in the mirror. “What color do you think they are?”
“Erm …” Thom was reluctant to tell her the bald truth - that he had no blasted idea. He could pick her voice out of a crowd of hundreds and knew each curve of her body as well as he knew his own, but he couldn’t say if he knew exactly what color her eyes were.
He slowly stepped up behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders as he leaned over to get a closer look at her reflection. “Sort of a … golden-green?” He hated that there was no conviction in his tone, but he had just recently sworn not to lie to her anymore. He would not bend that rule, not even for something as trivial as this.
“Hmm …” Dani hummed thoughtfully, continuing to tilt her head in different angles, as though that would yield different results. Finally, she sighed and dropped her gaze, her fingers toying nervously with the edge of the vanity. “It’s so silly, but I was just thinking of my mother,” she explained slowly. “She used to tell us all of these old wives tales when we were growing up. My siblings and I used to think it was a joke, but the older I got, the more I came to realize that she really, honestly believed them.”
“Like what?” Thom asked, smoothing his thumbs gently along the backs of her shoulders. She had told him before how complicated her relationship with her family was. She spoke of her siblings often, her tone full of love and reverence, but her parents were only mentioned on rare, vulnerable occasions.
“Silly things,” she replied with a small shrug. When Thom simply continued to watch her reflection in the mirror, she sighed and continued, “She found meaning in everything - from the weather, to a person’s name day, to their favorite line of the Chant.”
“And eye colors?” Thom guessed quietly.
Dani rewarded his attention with a small smile through the mirror. “Yes,” she agreed. “Father thought it was ridiculously frivolous. Of course, she never spoke about it when we were within company. The Chantry frowns upon such superstitions, after all. But she ingrained it in all of us regardless.”
Thom leaned closer to press a kiss to the crown of her head. Her scent was strongest here, along the line of her scalp, and he drank it in like a man starved. “What kind of things did she say?” he asked, his voice slightly muffled by her hair.
Dani’s smile tightened as her gaze lowered to her hands once more. “I remember she once described my hazel eyes as ‘the color of weak tea’,” she murmured quietly. “She claimed it reflected a weak character and lack of purpose. Perhaps that’s why I never made it to the Order. Not a strong enough backbone.”
It was clear that this was not the first time the thought had occurred to her. Thom knew from experience that these were the kinds of deep scars that remained on a person’s heart and repeated in their minds for years, whether they truly believed them or not.
“Of course, she also believed that my sister, who had the exact same hazel color, had eyes that were ‘as sweet and sticky as honey’. She predicted that Saria would catch the eye of any man she chose.” Dani gave a wry laugh, shaking her head again. “I suppose she ended up being right about that one. Saria was always the prettiest one amongst us.”
“Prettier than you?” Thom asked, letting his lips trail to her temple.
She gave an inelegant snort and flashed him an unamused look out of the corner of her eye. “There’s no need for flattery, you know,” she murmured mildly, though she tipped her head in acquiescence as Thom’s mouth continued down the length of her neck.
“No flattery here, my lady,” he assured her when lips fell to the joint of her neck. “Though perhaps a bit of bias.”
Thom had been with Dani long enough to know that she never fully believed him when he said she was beautiful. Just as she didn’t believe her advisors when they commended her for successfully navigating another political quagmire, or her companions when they applauded her for her skill with her blades. His Inquisitor had an uncanny ability to see the true heart of everyone around her. Thom just wished sometimes that she could extend the same courtesy to herself.
He pulled away to meet Dani’s reflection head on in hopes that she would be able to gauge the depth of his sincerity in his expression. “I think your eyes are the prettiest color in all of Thedas.”
Instead of the sweet smile he was hoping for, Thom was met with a steely glare. “You don’t even know what color they are. You just said so yourself a few moments ago.”
“Dani,” he breathed, shaking his head slightly in exasperation. “The color doesn't matter. They’re your eyes. That’s what makes them beautiful.”
Dani turned her gaze from his and locked eyes with herself in the mirror once more. Her glare faded into a frown of skepticism as she meticulously examined herself, searching for every infinitesimal fault she could find.
“They used to be more brown,” she mused quietly to herself. “Before the Conclave, they were always a sort of murky hazel. But ever since this,” she paused to wave her glowing hand through the air before her, “I swear they look nearly emerald.”
Thom’s brow furrowed as he took another hard look at Dani’s eyes. In his opinion, she looked as she always did. If her eyes were more green than normal, it was a detail that didn’t register with him.
“Do you really think it’s the Mark that’s changing them?” he asked tentatively.
“I don’t know,” Dani sighed in exasperation. “How could I possibly know? No one seems to be able to tell me a damn thing about it.” Her Marked hand slammed into the flat surface of her vanity in frustration, making the glass before them shiver.
Thom sighed as he stood from the position he had been in leaning over her right shoulder and slowly crossed to her left. He gently touched his fingers to the back of her hand, smoothing over her skin before wrapping around her wrist. Dani didn’t protest as he knelt beside her, bringing her hand close so that her glowing green palm lay upturned before his face.
The Mark would always be slightly perturbing, but it did not bother him now as much as it used to. It was strange and eerie and unpredictable, but it was also a part of Dani, and he loved Dani.
Thom let his thumbs slowly graze across her palm, following the lines of her hands that were barely visible through the green glow. Then, he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the center, ignoring the buzz of magic that tingled against his lips.
When he at last raised his gaze back to Dani, she heaved a defeated sigh and brought her free hand to the side of his face. “Oh, Thom,” she murmured softly. “I'm sorry. I didn’t mean to snap like that. I'm just tired.”
Thom didn’t bother mentioning that Dani’s version of “snapping” was about the least harmful rebuke he had received in his life. Still, he wished that there was something meaningful he could do to help ease her frustrations. He knew how much the responsibility of the Inquisition weighed on her. He did what he could to help her relax during her infrequent moments of rest, but there were simply too many voices crying out for help for her to take off the mantle of Inquisitor completely.
Dani’s lips curled into a small smile as she added dryly, “You can always tell I'm in a bad mood when I start talking about my mother.”
Again, Thom made no comment, but he silently filed this information away for future reference.
Her fingers slowly traced across his brow, her touch so gentle it nearly made him shiver. Dani’s smile widened slightly, and Thom found his attention torn between the enticing line of her lips and the half-lidded gaze she was watching him with. “You know, she had a saying for blue eyes, too,” she informed him mildly.
“Oh?” Thom asked, his voice now lower and rougher. “Do tell.”
Dani’s teasing grin only widened. “She often warned me never to trust a man with blue eyes.”
Thom instantly felt a cold thread of fear run through him, despite Dani’s lighthearted tone. He had told her the truth about himself and sworn never to lie again, but that didn't mean that they didn’t both continue to bear the scars from the falsehood he had kept up for so long.
“My mother claimed that blue eyes were too changeable,” Dani continued, unaware of Thom's inner turmoil. “Easy to fall for, but hard to pin down. Just as blue eyes can change from gray to green and back again, a man with blue eyes could be many different things, all rolled into one. As unpredictable as the weather.”
Dani chuckled softly but Thom dropped his gaze from her as shame burned hot in his gut. “That is … very perceptive,” he murmured weakly.
They had spoken at length regarding Thom’s deception and the ghosts that haunted his past, but he still couldn’t help but feel as though he were hiding from her sometimes. He had taken great care to bury his old life in an attempt to move on, and there was much still that needed to be unearthed. It was a chasm they could only cross together, and with time. It was a painful, arduous process, and Thom had no idea why Dani even took the time to bother, on top of everything else she had to deal with.
As though reading his thoughts, Dani brought both her hands up to cup his face, forcing his gaze to meet her calm, benevolent smile. “How lucky, then, that my mother was so wrong,” she continued firmly.
“You think so?” Thom asked, his tone completely lacking any trace of conviction.
However, Dani was not to be swayed. His Inquisitor was kind and generous beyond measure, but she had a stubborn streak as wide as the Frostback Mountains when she had a mind to dig her heels in. “Of course,” she replied confidently. “The blue-eyed man I found for myself is the most loyal and dependable person I know.”
Thom raised a brow at her, his expression flattening in disbelief. “Me?” he clarified. “I think you must have me confused with someone else, my lady.”
Dani breathed a small, amused laugh and slowly rose from her seat at the vanity. Her hands remained on his face, pulling him up after her. She used her soft hold to bring him close, her fingers stretching to lock around his neck while his own hands found her hips on instinct. He had not been able to deny her a single thing from the moment he met her. He wasn’t about to deny her closeness now, when he wanted it just as badly.
“No.” Her voice was soft but sure as she gazed up at him, her gold-green eyes positively sparkling with fondness. “It doesn’t matter what name you choose to go by,” she assured him. “I know that I will always be able to rely on you. Whether it’s in battle …” She paused to lean forward, her lips brushing against his cheek. “Or in my bed …” she added, her tone teasing as she turned and placed a kiss on his other cheek. “Or with my heart …” Her tone had turned soft once more as she stretched on her toes to reach his lips with her own.
There was no denying the sharp spike of desire that hit Thom square in the gut. His hands tightened on her hips, pulling her weight fully against him as his head tilted to deepen the kiss. Dani moaned lightly against his mouth and he nearly lost himself entirely.
However, he had just enough sense left in his head to pull back and fix her with a searching look. “How can you possibly say such things?” he asked quietly. “After everything that’s happened … All that I've done …”
Dani silenced his words with another kiss. “You’ve done the impossible ,” she insisted gently. Her thumbs traced through his beard and Thom felt as though he were drowning in her earnest gaze. “You faced your past, even though it was terrible. And I see how hard you fight every day to make up for it. You’re a good man . And the only one I would ever want to call mine.”
Thom was used to using meaningless flattery and sweet words to tell people what they wanted to hear. It was a useful trick for getting what he wanted. But he felt suddenly vastly ill-equipped to handle Dani’s naked sincerity.
With all of his words quickly drying up in his mouth, Thom did the only thing that still felt right. He wrapped his arms around Dani, bringing her tight to his chest and burying his face against her neck. “Yours,” he vowed solemnly, his breath ghosting across her skin.
Thom had never been a particularly religious man, but he still prayed to the Maker now and again, just to see if anything stuck. He did so again now, hoping beyond reason that maybe this one might come true.
He prayed for strength - to be whatever Dani needed him to be in order to help her through this mess with Corypheus and figure out what was going on with her Mark. He prayed for courage - to face it all without fear and to continue to be brutally, painfully honest, even when it hurt. And above all, he prayed that the Maker would not take him from her side. Whatever else happened, let him remain hers, regardless of name or history or eye color.
“I love you, Thom,” Dani murmured lightly into his shoulder. Even after all this time, Thom was fascinated by how three simple little words always managed to make him feel so warm inside.
And though he had said the same words to several other women before her, Thom was certain that this was the only time he had ever truly meant them.
“I love you, too.”