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“I’m looking forward to it,” Malika says, a smile stretched wide across her freckled face as she leans back against the bed. “Being one of the little people again.”
Sera, nestled under her shoulder, gives her a playful shove. Her bare skin is warm against Malika’s: Sera basically radiates heat at all times. “Is that a joke? Because you’re all smushy, right?”
“Exactly right.” Malika pulls a face before continuing. “It’s been a real hassle, keeping my dwarfy-ness underground this time. Get it? Because dwarves—”
“I get it,” Sera says with a groan, half-turning away in mock disgust. Malika loops her arm around her lover (her wife’s!) waist and pulls her back, closer, fitting the curve of her own hips to Sera’s arse. She buries her face against Sera’s neck and inhales deeply, earning her another rumble of faux complaint. “Oiiii,” Sera says, all drawn-out vowels, “You going to eat me or something?”
Malika gently rolls her hips forwards, relishing the light brush of friction. “Don’t give me ideas.” Sera’s always putting new thoughts in her head. Pranks. Positions. Creative uses of ordinary household objects. There’d been a cucumber one time… and look, there she was, getting distracted again.
“Maker,” Sera says, shoulders shrugging in an exasperated sigh. “And here I thought I was insatiable. You’re the one who’s gone all ‘we need to wake up early tomorrow’, ‘meet our early boat’, ‘yadda yadda’. You’re going to make us fall right off our horses, dead asleep, you are.”
“Mm,” Malika hums in easy agreement, taking a moment simply to revel in the steady tempo of Sera’s breathing. “If I’m insatiable it’s only because you’re irresistible.”
“Andraste’s tits,” Sera moans, “do you have to make those eyes at me when you say that?”
Malika considers several possible responses, including one about Andraste supposedly having spectacular jugs, before deciding she doesn’t want to ruin the moment. After everything they’ve been through to get where they are today, sometimes it’s nice just to appreciate, truly appreciate, what she has. “Can’t help myself. Besides, I know you love it.”
“Yeah,” Sera sighs with an admission of defeat. “Love it. Love you.”
“Love you too,” Malika answers in return, the simplest call-and-response in the world. It would be so easy right now to close her eyes and drift off to sleep, safe and comfortable in Sera’s arms. But her mind can’t help but circle back to their earlier conversation, so she instead finds herself propping her chin up on the heel of her hand, staring at Sera. Maker, what had she done to deserve such a beautiful wife? (Some would perhaps argue save the world, but she didn’t think of Sera like that. Her wife wasn’t some trophy to be won, but rather one of the best things that had happened along the way.)
“Hey,” she starts, testing out the extent of Sera’s consciousness.
Her lover groans. “Right, you. Less randy, but now it’s time for gossip?” There’s a brief pause, but then Sera rolls over, grins. “Well, spill it.”
“I meant it what I said earlier,” Malika reminds her, eyes bright and earnest in that way she knows Sera both loves and detests. “I’m looking forward to meeting more of your Red Jennies. Helping.” Despite her best intentions, her gaze drops to the space where her left hand once was, where Dagna’s prototype usually is, during Malika’s waking hours.
Sera’s gaze softens too. She swallows thickly. “You mean it, yeah? You really mean it?” Her voice cracks on the second question, a rush of vulnerability that makes Malika squeeze her tight within the embrace of her arms.
“Of course I do. The helping, the meeting your people – any of it. All of it. If it’s important to you… “ Malika’s hand finds Sera’s and she intertwines their fingers. “I want to do it. Anything for you, my love.”
Although Sera lets out a huff of derision, Malika can see she’s happy all the same. “Even though you can take or leave cookies,” she mumbles.
“You know your cookie is my favourite.” She presses a fleeting yet firm kiss to the corner of Sera’s lips for emphasis.
Sera groans into the kiss, clutches Malika’s shoulders. “You keep that up, you know I won’t be able to help myself, right?”
“Not that you’ve ever objected to staying up all night in the past,” Malika starts, stumbles, as a realisation occurs to her. She takes a moment to regard Sera’s profile in the dim light of the bedchamber. “Wait a moment. You’re nervous.”
With the way that Sera’s fingers tighten against the bedsheets Malika knows her observation has met her target, as accurate as any arrow. Averting her gaze, Sera mumbles, “’Course I am. It’s just… family, right? Big step. Never cared much about being liked before, but… “ She trails off, shrugging. “Different this time. You know?”
Malika gives her wife another reassuring squeeze. “You’re my family now. If Pa and Edric don’t like you, then well, they’d be idiots, but they could also sod right off.” She laughs, imagining the imminent meeting. “Besides, they’re going to love you.”
“Yeah?” Sera asks, cautiously optimistic. “What makes you so sure?”
“Because I love you,” Malika responds firmly. “And they raised me. How’d you think I got to be this way?”
Sera laughs as she tangles her legs together with Malika’s. “Because you’re touched, right? Either in the head or by Andraste or both.” She arches her back and stretches like a cat before nuzzling back against Malika.
“Pa does like telling that story about how he dropped me as a baby,” Malika says with a dramatic sigh. She’s starting to get sleepy now; can feel her eyelids flutter. Maybe it’s time to finally get some rest after all, stop getting distracted, in any sense of the word. On the verge of sleep, a question stirs at the back of her mind, shifts to the tip of her tongue, then slips out. “Sera,” Malika starts, “Do you really think I was touched by Andraste?”
They’d avoided talking about this topic for so long, religion having always been a touchy subject between them. Humans so often talked of Andrastianism and the Chant as something to be shared with all the races of Thedas, spread to the four corners of the world. And yet, the Chant so obviously favoured humans. Malika can’t help but think it’s the same with dwarves and the Stone – whatever form it takes, religion’s just another way of making people fall into line. She knows Sera feels differently, though. It’s one of the things she’s always admired about her wife: the strength of her beliefs.
Sera laughs, the warm exhalation of air tickling her skin. “So much weird shit has happened to you,” she says, wrapping an around Malika’s stomach. “Sometimes it’s easier to think it happened for a reason.”
It’s not a yes or no answer in the way Malika might have anticipated, but what it tells her is important nonetheless: that it matters to Sera, and she’s happy that her wife has something that brings her comfort in this strange, messed up world.
“Is there anything else you want to know about my family before we set off tomorrow?”
Malika can see Sera is considering the question carefully. Even the lines in her forehead are beautiful. “Your brother, he’s like… ten or so years older than you, right? He’s happy, being part of the whatchamacallit … guild ‘n’ stuff?”
“Oh, ecstatic,” Malika assures her. “I bet he can’t wait to lord our family’s newfound position on the Merchant’s Guild above everyone who ever doubted us. As I said, you’re going to love him.”
“Waaaait,” Sera says, word drawn out long, heavy under a cloud of sleep. “That’s why you want to be part of the Jennies, innit? ‘Cause they’re like my family?”
Malika presses a kiss against Sera’s cheek. “Yes, dear, that’s precisely the point.”
Sera lets out a gentle snore, a smile stretched upon her face.