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A quiet snap echoes throughout the room as Fenris grips the quill a little too tight, leaving an ink blotch at the end of the shaky letters of his name.
"Fasta vass!" He growls, glaring at the broken bits of feather in his hand.
Farryn reaches across the table and starts to massage his hands, knowing they must be cramping from the new activity. "Fen, let's take a break, hm? I can get us something to eat and we can try reading the next passage instead?" She digs into the meat of his palm with her thumbs, pressing into the rough calluses and achy joints.
Closing his eyes, Fenris sighs. "If you would like, fine."
Little by little, his fingers become more pliant, shoulders drop down, and Fenris relaxes into the chair he's sitting in. The fire crackles merrily, with just a hint of Barkspawn snoring on the main floor. Candlelight dances on the desk as the sun sets, bathing the room in a warm glow, and crickets start their song outside.
'What a lovely evening,' Farryn thinks to herself. She smiles gently, watching Fenris' breathing slow and the tension in his face bleed away. "I'll be right back, I promise." Pressing a kiss to the top of his head, she hurries downstairs to the kitchen. Half a loaf of bread, some cheese, a hunk of cured meat, and two wine glasses end up on a tray as Farryn tucks a bottle of wine under one arm and makes her way back upstairs. Hearing Fenris murmuring, she pauses outside her bedroom door.
Slowly pronouncing each word out loud, Fenris paused on a new one. "'There, in the heart of them, sang a Lady r-' Rage? No. Rad… rad-eye—" He lets out a noise of frustration.
"Wait, Fen, one second." Placing the food and wine down, she gives a reassuring squeeze to Fenris' shoulder and eyes the page, tracing the words with a finger. "'sang a Lady ra-di-ant', radiant, you almost had it." She continued the rest of the passage.
And clad in armor of bright steel.
She paused her song to look upon Shartan,
And said to him: "All souls who take up the sword
Against Tevinter are welcome here. Rest, and tell us of your battles."
She flips to the front cover with a finger on the page to keep track of what page Fenris is on. "I didn't know that my family kept a secret book of the Shartan verses. Subverting the Chantry has always been in the bloodline, I suppose." Farryn chuckles.
Fenris does not. "Hawke. This is a waste of your time. I should go." Fenris pushes back abruptly, nearly toppling the plate of food and clanging the wine glasses together.
"Fen, wait, don't—Fenris, please!" She grabs Fenris' arm as he reaches for his gauntlets to slip back on. He turns slightly back towards her, brow furrowed. Smoothing a thumb over his forehead to encourage the tension to leave, Farryn smiles brightly. "Fenris. This has been the highlight of my day. No really!" she adds when he scoffs. "I've quite enjoyed this one-on-one time with you, though it's not my favorite one-on-one activity." She smirks, leveling a sultry look at him.
Fenris rolls his eyes with a small smile. "You are impossible." He begins fitting a gauntlet back on before Farryn nabs the other out of his hand. "Give that back!" he exclaims with a huff of laughter.
"Make me." Farryn dances out of reach, sprinting out of the room and cackling. Hot on her tail, Fenris runs after her to see her slide down the banister with a yell.
Grinning, he takes the stairs three at a time, chasing her into the living room. Where he promptly trips over Barkspawn and practically face plants into the carpet, letting out a groan.
Standing over him in triumph, Farryn laughs again. "Guess I win! You'll simply have to stay the night, that's my reward."
"Do I have any say in the matter?" Fenris groans, rubbing his nose as he tries to sit up while fending himself from the slobbery love from Barkspawn.
"Absolutely not!"
In the morning, Farryn wakes to Barkspawn snoring in Fenris' spot. A beam of sunlight suddenly pierces through the clouds and streams into the room, past curtains she forgot to draw closed last night. Protesting loudly, a piece of parchment on the desk catches her eye where the Book of Shartan was last night.
A little sketch of a lady knight greets her, smiling warmly. Soft waves of hair curl around her features and little hoop earrings adorn her ears. Thick, stately brows with a tiny scar through the right one—wait.
Scrawled in unsteady but sure lettering on the side:
Farryn
A Lady radiant and clad in her armor of bright steel