Work Text:
17 years before the Ritual, give or take
Davrin was already done with the old halla herder and his endless lecturing. He’d forced them up and out at dawn, and his hands burned and stung with their new blisters from shoveling halla shit. His shoulders and arms ached already, and he was hungry, hot, and wondering how angry his parents would be if he just went back home. But then he remembered why he’d been sent away in the first place, and it only made it worse. He was stuck. They’d probably just send him back. The snare he was setting failed again, falling apart in his hands, the thin leather cord slipping loose in his hands. His anger bubbled over and kicked it, sending the pieces scattering, and Eldrin clucked his tongue to chide him. Davrin turned his rage on the old man who laughed at him.
“It’s not funny!”
Eldrin wiped a tear from his eyes. “No no you’re right da’len it’s not funny. That wasn’t kind of me.”
“No it wasn’t.” Davrin was about to stalk off when Eldrin blocked his path, holding his hands up.
“Stop. Close your eyes. Take a breath.”
He wanted to snarl at him again. Instead Davrin did as he asked, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath from his belly, like his Mamae had taught him. He did it again at Eldrin’s instruction, then again, letting the summer air fills his lungs. Arlathan smelled of halla and sap and green and it worked. His anger slipped away from him and Eldrin fought a smile and failed as he opened his eyes again.
“Better?”
Davrin ran a thumb over his chin and turned his head. “Better.”
“Good. Now let’s get back to work.” He groaned and Eldrin laughed at him again, clapping a hand to his shoulder. “It’s okay to be angry. But when you lash out you only make more work for yourself. Now you have to start over.”
He opened his mouth to argue and Eldrin arched his brows and Davrin sighed and went about collecting more sticks and finding the thing leather cord in the leaf litter.
~~
Two years ago, give or take.
Rook was cursing. Davrin caught elvhen, trade, Tevene, and dwarven in between each chop. The fact she’d gone into his room to even chop wood told him enough. He walked in with Assan who squawked happily and ran towards her. She glanced their way and set it down, giving the griffon a dutiful pat as he hopped around then launched himself out, wings flapping open. Still not tired. Davrin shook his head and turned to her, tilting his head.
“Something bothering you?”
Rook groaned and picked the axe up again, holding onto it with both hands, staring down at it. Shaking her head. Then she turned her ire on the wood again. He leaned on his worktable, folding his arms. He hadn’t quite figured out what to do with all this yet. Didn’t quite know what to make of her crew and his role in all of it either. It was still strange that the week before he’d been at the Aerie, chatting with Lancit and Remi by the fire. With the full pack of fledglings. Now he was surrounded by strangers in the Fade and had been up close and personal with more than one dragon. In between chops she finally started talking.
“I hate. Not knowing. Our next. Move.”
Davrin was distracted by the sweat-dampened curls that fell in her eyes and the way her muscles stretched and moved as she worked. That was the other problem, and one he shoved forcefully into the back of his mind where it belonged.
“We get the professor right?”
“And then?” She almost snapped.
“Then we figure it out from there. One step at a time.”
Rook grunted and swung again, but it went wide when she pulled back, and she nearly banged her shin. No surprise, when she was working herself into exhaustion. Come to think of it, he wasn’t sure she’d even slept since his arrival, and certainly not since recruiting Taash. Davrin finally closed, pulling it from her hands and setting it down.
“Close your eyes. Take a deep breath.”
Her eyes flashed briefly, but she did as he said, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. Davrin braced her shoulders and she relaxed, taking another. Then another. He breathed with her without thinking about it, until she opened her eyes. When their gazes met he swallowed, unprepared for the softness he found there. Rook smiled shyly and he pulled away fast, nearly tripping over the axe and she caught his arm before he did, laughing.
“Easy there. Last thing we need is you getting hurt.”
He grunted, the calloused skin of her fingers hot on him, and shook his head. “It’s you I’m worried about.”
Rook’s mouth quirked and she pulled away. “Thanks for this. It helped.”
Then she slipped away, off to the next task. Off to the Grand Necropolis tomorrow, and no closer to some rest. Assan returned, for once nothing he wasn’t supposed to eat in his mouth, chirping at Rook’s retreating back. Davrin sighed and slumped into his chair. The griffon came over and plopped his great head in his lap and Davrin scratched his ear absently.
~~
Present day
The roar of the archdemon. Its sickening song. The clamor of the battle the chorus. And-
Ghilan’nain. Her hungry gaze on Rook, and this time she attacked. He couldn’t stop her. His legs wouldn’t move. She had her, flinging her into the wall and a sea of darkspawn and blight burst forth. He screamed. He screamed for Rook and for himself and for them all and-
“Dav! Davrin!” Rook’s voice reached him like an echo.
He jerked awake, her hand on his chest, and he wrapped his fingers around her wrist.
“Take a deep breath. I’m here. We’re here. You’re safe.”
He did as he was bidden. He started to shiver from the sweat slicking his skin and Rook shifted as he sat up, wrapping Remi’s blanket around him before she followed, pressing herself to his back and tucking her chin on his shoulder. At last he could breathe again, shaking his head.
“Been a while since I had one that bad.”
Rook hummed, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Want to talk about it?”
“No. Let’s just go back to sleep. Big day tomorrow.” Davrin tried.
“Ah Weisshaupt again.”
They were married and he still wanted to know how she always knew. His clever wife. The thought chased away the last of the nightmare and he turned to kiss her as she smiled into his mouth.
When morning came they woke tangled in each other, then climbed out of the tent. Assan and Raven were already up, restless and eager. Davrin would never get used to the sight of them, now large enough to ride. He went to Assan and put a hand on his massive shoulder, breathing the griffon in. He bumped Davrin with his beak, looking for treats, and Davrin chuckled in turn.
“Oh no you don’t. I’m not having you puke while we’re up there. With your luck it’ll land on the tent.”
Assan squawked at him again and Davrin went to grab his saddle, nearly shaking himself with nerve he hadn’t expected. The saddles had been brought to life by Antoine and Taash’s combined efforts, beautifully made to suit both griffons. They’d need new ones again. They still weren’t fully grown. But for now, it went on smoothly. Practice had made perfect.
Davrin climbed on Assan’s back as Rook slid onto Raven’s and the took the griffons around their warm-ups together. At least, that was the intention, until Assan decided enough was enough and leapt into the air.
The world fell away. Davrin’s stomach dropped as the wind wooshed past his ears in a rush and he clung to the saddle for dear life cursed the griffon out until-
It was amazing. Assan leveled off and they were soaring over the meadow. On the horizon was a new range he had never seen. Below them the field was flowering in gold and purple. Pine trees nested in the distance. A startled flock of sparrows burst to like next to them. With a smooth flap of his wings and a smug look Assan circled around, confident and easy.
Rook whooped behind him as Raven followed her brother, and Davrin started laughing. He remembered when Assan was first to fly out of all of his siblings, and now he was the first to hold a rider. He patted Assan’s neck and took a shuddering breath.
“Proud of you boy.”