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Life was good.
Which was not something Viago de Riva ever thought he’d think to himself, but there it was.
Life was good.
He was happy.
Teia was happy, with him. Perhaps he hadn’t truly anticipated it, but then again, he’d hardly ever anticipated anything when it came to Teia. She was one of the few constants in his life – and the only one who could rile him up and not truly infuriate him. Well, most of the time.
“You’re smiling,” Teia purred at his side, snuggling in closer. The Chantry’s bell tolled in the distance; four clear strikes – still early yet, but then again, they hadn’t exactly slept.
“Given my present company,” He sighed, leaning in to press a kiss to her forehead. “One could hardly blame me.”
Teia laughed, rich and warm, and pat his arm. “Flatterer,” She chided, and Viago chuckled indulgently. Propping herself up on one arm, she leaned down and kissed his jaw, then the corner of his mouth. “Let’s get you cleaned up, hm?” She murmured sweetly, and normally, Viago would leap at the offer.
It was no surprise he did not enjoy being sticky, or messy, or dirty, and Teia – beautiful Teia – understood that need, without being offended. In fact, she relished in bathing with him just as much; curling up against him after they washed each other’s hair and bodies, and doze as the water cools.
But this morning, something urged him to linger here, to hold her in his arms, a while longer.
“I want to stay,” He sighed, looking up at her and for once not bothering to hide the adoration in his tone. “For a little longer still. Humor me?” He asked, feeling his smile grow when Teia’s face bloomed with warmth.
“For you?” She said, cupping his cheek, and pressing a soft kiss to the tip of his nose. “Anything.” She kissed him then, slow and sweet, and Viago sighed into her, pulling her down gently into his embrace. She went easily, breasts pressing against his chest, and Viago groaned a bit, petting his hand over her curls.
When they finally parted, both panting a bit, Teia smiled again. Her eyes – warm, lovely, halla gold – crinkled, and Viago knew for a fact that he wanted to see her smile like that for the rest of his days. He wanted to be the reason she smiled that way.
“Vi,” She breathed, and he felt his heart swell all over again.
“Andarateia, I-,” She blinked at the use of her full name, and Viago brushed a thumb – bare, his gloves had been shed hours ago – across her cheekbone. “-I don’t want this to stop.”
She smiled again, shock bleeding away to be replaced with comforting sympathy, and laughed softly. “We don’t have to, Vi. In fact,” She said suggestively, raising her brows. “We can stay here all day; just laze about as we please.”
Viago groaned at the prospect, but shook his head. “I mean this,” He said, gesturing between them. “Us.” She blinked those beautiful halla gold eyes at him again and Viago couldn’t blame her. He didn’t know where any of this was coming from, personally.
But he refused to fight the desire to tell her, not now.
Not after years of his biting it back ruining their relationship.
Teia smiled, tracing her fingers along his face, and leaned in to peck his lips. “Oh, you sweet man,” She sighed, voice wavering a bit – Viago politely ignored that, but would be lying if he said it didn’t make his heart feel full. “We’re fine, I promise.”
He nodded, turning his face to press a lingering kiss to her palm. Then, he turned his gaze back to her, hoping she could see the adoration in his gaze. It was an all encompassing feeling, this adoration, and one he was accustomed to when it came to Teia.
He was just done running from it, now.
“Come on,” She murmured, sitting up and taking his hand to give it a gentle tug. “Let’s have a bath.”
He melted a bit, and followed her out of the bed, marveling at the feel of her fingers interlocking with his. He’d hesitated to bare his skin to her, many moons ago, but now…
Now he trusted her. Maybe more than he should. Yet he knew if, one day, she decided to end his life, he may very well deserve it.
He certainly wouldn’t blame her, if she did.
And what a beautiful end it would be – Andarateia Cantori as his last sight.
He squeezed their hands together, smiling to himself – safe in the privacy of her rooms – and indulged in the warm caress of her laugh. “You, Teia Cantori, are too good for me.” He sighed, then paused when she did, blinking as she turned to him.
She leaned up, pressing kisses up his throat, to his ear, and whispered, “Impossible. I chose you, Viago de Riva, and I do not choose subpar men.” A kiss to his earlobe, and Viago flushed as her words fully registered.
And in the rush of affection, her caught her by the waist and tugged her in close. “Then I must be the luckiest man in all of Thedas,” He began, kissing her forehead. “To have earned the affection of someone as divine as yourself.”
Teia laughed, but it wasn’t harsh or mocking – it was warm, sweet; openly affectionate – and threw her arms around his neck. “And you say you’re not a romantic.”
“For you?” He breathed, leaning in to capture her lips again in a slow, lingering kiss. There wasn’t any rush, but still, he parted before they began to run out of breath. “Of course I am.”
The words were on the tip of his tongue – the ones he’d bitten back for so long. And he’d wanted, so badly, for the past days to just tell her, finally. Three, simple little words.
And when she smiled up at him, the first rays of daylight filtering in through the window and catching her eye, Viago decided he’d waited long enough. Teia had waited long enough.
“I love you,” He breathed, the words a gentle whisper. Her eyes widened, surprised, but he could see the beginnings of a smile curling her beautiful, full lips. He swallowed past the anxiety, told his mind to quiet, and said again, “I love you, Teia.”
Joy lit up her beautiful face, and she stood on tip toe to reach up and cup his face, peppering kisses over her cheeks. “Sweet man,” She murmured, brushing their noses together. “I love you, too.”
Viago felt himself grin – boyish, dopey, and wide; and he didn’t care – and followed her into the wash room so they could finally clean up.
Likely, his impulsive urges would catch up with him soon, and he would lose himself to the fear of exposing his feelings, of being too vulnerable. He expected it, by this point in his life.
But for now – for now – Viago de Riva was happy.
He was in love with a woman that loved him in return.
His country, his home, was safe; the world was safe; he was loved.
The rest? That could – would – come later.
For now, the woman who owned his heart, wished for him to join her in a bath. And he could never deny Andarateia Cantori a thing her heart desired.