Work Text:
"It is not too difficult?"
"No."
"Would you say otherwise if it were?" Sebastian asked, setting the glass down on the table.
Fenris's lips twitched towards a smile, eyes settling on the glass. "Wine?"
"Yes. I'm hoping you enjoy it. I admit I haven't tried it yet."
He nodded slightly, fingers curling loosely around the spine of the book laying on the table. He would drink momentarily. For now, he and Sebastian were reading. Or rather, Fenris was reading, and Sebastian was standing by to help if necessary. He would finish reading this passage before taking a break.
Contrary to his words, this was slightly more difficult than the passages that Hawke had him read. The words were hyphenated and broken in ways that he did not understand, save for choices in grammar, perhaps. He was spending more time mulling over each word in his mind than he would like, but the more that he picked words out here and there in his mind, the more he was beginning to realise he knew the passage.
"‘... Blade to shackle-beared, valient of spirit
Blazing like star-shine to battle they charged’"
Fenris looked at the parchment for a moment longer. He did know this. He should have expected something of this calibre. But the words were familiar in sound, even if he did not understand how they were written. Even if he could not technically read them, he did know them.
"‘None to return to the lands of their mothers
By cruel magic taken, ice, lightning, and flame’"
He raised his gaze from the writing, and looked at Sebastian instead. He was looking at him with surprise from the ease of which the words flowed from the elf's tongue.
"‘Should for all seasons laments ring the sky-vaults,
Should dirges all sages and histories replace?’"
Sebastian blinked rapidly, and then the coy smile pulled at the archer's lips. Perhaps he had caught on. Sebastian started to speak, voice overlapping with Fenris's.
"‘By gods forsaken, fate emptied of hope,
Wounded I fell then, by grief arrow-studded,
Never to hear, death for me come.’"
Fenris smiled softly, and reached for the glass of wine. "The Canticle of Andraste."
"You weren't reading that at all," Sebastian accused.
"No," Fenris replied, sipping at the drink. "I know it. I have heard it, multiple times." He looked up. "At sermon, in fact."
Sebastian laughed slightly, rubbing his fingers through his hair. "Maybe I should have picked something different."
"I cannot read all of it," Fenris said. "Most of it, in fact."
"You can recite all of that on memory," Sebastian said, sitting next to him. "That's impressive in itself."
Fenris shrugged. "I have lacked the ability to read. I had to make up for it somehow."
"No less impressive," Sebastian said.
"Perhaps."
Fenris took another drink of the wine, and contemplated as Sebastian stood to fetch something else for him to read. Hawke had expressed surprise over Fenris's extent of knowledge; he had seemed impressed right from the beginning, when he had found out that he could speak multiple languages, converse in them fluently, even. Sebastian was the same. Sebastian, however, did not offer Fenris smutty books in his teachings. Fenris did not dislike Hawke's choices for reading - he would not admit that to the man, naturally - but sometimes, he was grateful for Sebastian's choices. Even if he expected, in a past lifetime, Sebastian and Hawke would have been as thick as thieves.
"You're too humble," Sebastian said, and placed another leather bound book on the table in front of him.
Fenris raised an eyebrow. "Humble."
"Humble," Sebastian repeated. "Be proud of yourself, as we are. Proud of you, that is. Me included."
"I am," Fenris said. His fingers seized around the stem of the wine glass. It was easier said than accomplished, of course, but Sebastian did not need to know that.
"As long as you believe it, Fenris." Sebastian's hand passed against Fenris's shoulder; it was the slightest of touches, and Fenris resisted the urge to lean into it. He closed his eyes instead, and held himself still.
Sebastian respected his vows, and so did Fenris.
That would not change.
Just as it would not change the way he felt for the archer, or the way that the archer felt for the elf. They had had the discussion, ages ago. Sebastian had even admitted that he should be resisting the temptation of merely being near him, but that he could not. Not now. But they could take it no further. Nothing more. "In a past life, Fenris..." he had said with a sad smile, and Fenris respected that.
Honestly, he found that he did not mind. In the worst of times, it was frustrating, but Fenris was not a Chantry Brother. He had no vows to uphold himself. When needed, he could entertain himself with his thoughts. But what he and Sebastian had built... it fit. He could not handle over-affection, and Sebastian could only give so much, in the tune of soft smiles and occasionally pointless conversation. And so, Sebastian helped to teach him to read, and treated him to drinks and pastry, and talked to him of Andraste and the Maker and Starkhaven.
Fenris was fine with that.
Perhaps he was missing out. He would not know. All he knew was that if Sebastian was not in his life, it would be his loss, and that was a loss that he did not wish to risk.
"We could try reading this one next. It's not verses this time, I promise." Sebastian smiled, and it was soft, and warm, and beautiful.
Fenris smiled gently, and looked away from the brilliant blue eyes. He focused his attention on the new book instead. He ran his fingers against the worn leather and nodded. "Thank you, Sebastian."
"For what?"
Fenris tilted his head, thinking. He let his fingers slide under the cover of the book and opened it, folding the title pages aside. "Your time," he said, after a moment's reprieve.
"Oh. That's not a problem, Fenris. You know that."
"I know," he said softly, and he did.