Chapter Text
Love is the Thing with Feathers
(F!Lavellan/Thom Rainier)
Thom enjoyed chopping wood. The rhythm was meditative. The physical exertion was cleansing. The results were useful. And the reaction of his lady was, hmm...gratifying.
That particular morning, though, Vilya was still abed, having been out late tending to one of the clan’s new babes. She had returned exhausted but inspired, and they had spent some deeply pleasant hours not sleeping. Thus, Thom had crept out of bed that morning, leaving her asleep. He intended to chop some wood, then prepare her a breakfast tray with all her favorite summer fruits--”bird food,” he sometimes teased her, but he loved the local berries just as much as she.
When he reached the woodpile behind the cottage, though, he found that a bird, a humble sparrow, perched atop the ax. And in its beak, the sparrow held a folded note.
Dearest Thom, it read in his lady’s neat, concise hand, I write to say I love you. For I do, and I fear I do not say so often enough. I hope you feel it in my kiss, know it in your bones. If I could write it in the stars, I would do so. As I cannot, this paper will have to do.
All my heart is yours, for as long as you will have it.
Yours,
Vilya