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femslashficlets2015-09-03 12:11 am
rosage) wrote in femslashficlets2015-09-03 12:11 am
Entry tags:
Five Times Tiki Surprised Say’ri (And One Time She Didn’t) (#022 - Five Things)
Title: Five Times Tiki Surprised Say’ri (And One Time She Didn’t)
Fandom: Fire Emblem: Awakening
Pairing: Say'ri/Tiki
Rating: PG
Prompt: #22 - five things
Word Count: 933
Summary: Draconic companions take getting used to (and perhaps, so does having one at all).
Note: For Phrenotobe and inspired by their headcanons. Most of Tiki's actions are based loosely on lizard behavior.
1.
Luckily Say’ri is wearing a top when Tiki darts into her tent, though nothing furnishes her arms or hides the shape of her torso. It’s further luck that Say’ri recognizes that flash of green and red, as an intruder at this hour would earn swift punishment indeed. Before Say’ri can inquire, Tiki tucks herself into such a slight ball behind Say’ri’s equipment that even when Say’ri bends a knee, it’s impossible not to hover over her, height aside. Cold seeps into Say’ri’s bones.
“Milady, prithee tell me, what ails you? A night terror, or an enemy my sword can halt?”
“Neither, at least not without causing a stir.” Tiki’s knees muffle her voice, but it doesn’t sound terribly shaken, given her position. “Anna seems to think I agreed to some promotional event when I assuredly did not, so I’m making myself scarce.”
The cold eases out, to be replaced by a burn. “Be at ease. Anyone who harasses my lady will meet swift punishment, fatal or not.”
“No, I’d rather lay low. We’ll march soon enough. Still, I do not understand. I bobbed my head most vigorously. Can she not take ‘no’ for an answer?”
“Aye, most merchants can’t. Yet…” Say’ri grapples to adjust her armor, only to meet her bare bicep. Her burn shifts from her chest to her neck. “Forgive me, but I may be misconstruing a Ylissean word. Is bobbing not an up-and-down motion?”
“It is. It is a very aggressive gesture. Why?”
The heat slides just under her eyelids, and she knows the march will be spent shifting through memories for accidental transgressions. “Ah, no reason.”
2.
Say’ri wears the blood spattered across her front like a token, albeit one bitterly won. The gash over her elbow is nothing compared to her numbness, insulating her heart from the panic threatening to squash it. She vaults over the rock behind which her lady’s body lies, caring nothing for propriety as she props Tiki’s limp neck against her knee.
“My lady—Tiki, please, awaken! I can’t lose—again, so soon… Please, I swear by my honor I’ll indulge anything that doesn’t impose upon you, I—”
Tiki hums. Say’ri’s breath catches in her throat, bubbling up.
“Splendid showing,” Tiki says, “though playing dead would have been easier if you hadn’t engaged the enemy right there.” Her tongue unfurls as she yawns, poking out from her lazy grin. “But I am gladdened to know you care, Say’ri.”
Say’ri can only sputter, unable to chastise her lady for playing when the alternative is infinitely more dire.
3.
Not that Say’ri isn’t enthused for a good throw-down now and then, and not that it wasn’t…engaging, but no matter how she sweat a bit despite playing only jury, she finds herself perplexed.
“If I’d been transformed, I would have smoked her,” Tiki grumbles. Averting her eyes, Say’ri hands her a cloth to wipe her neck.
“Not literally, I hope. Still, for this form, you performed admirably. Yet, I have to ask, as you seem…troubled; the East-Khan makes a noble opponent indeed, but why did you not ask me to represent you?”
“Silly Say’ri,” Tiki chirps, “do you not know how to compete for a mate?”
So caught off guard is Say’ri that for eloquence’s sake, she cuts the conversation short and goes to discreetly ask Miriel about lizard-mating habits, ultimately making a mental note to warn the next woman who touches her muscles to beware of push-up contests.
4.
The air over the bog sticks to her, one reminder of Chon’sin for which Say’ri was not homesick. She swats the bugs swarming around her with a fan, more irate than she should have been at a relatively harmless foe, as her sword is useless against such small targets. She turns to Tiki, planning to offer her shelter from the elements, but Tiki seems unperturbed, her own buzzing blending in with that of the insects.
A fly bounces against Tiki’s chin, seeming to be drawn by the promise of moisture. She tilts her neck to let it land, then darts her tongue out to lap it up as a cat with milk, licking her lips.
“It’s a wonderful day for a picnic,” she says with a sigh, and Say’ri tries not to think too hard about where that mouth has recently found its way.
5.
The way Tiki’s limbs curl as she arches her back off the ground is even more feline than usual, but it’s not Say’ri’s first thought when the movement makes the scales on her belly flash like light across a drawn sword.
“Showing mates underbellies is a matter of pride,” Tiki explains. She’s finally gleaned, after a discussion with Miriel, that Say’ri is befuddled by her ways; Say’ri’s finally put into awkward, halting words that it makes Tiki all the more enchanting. As Tiki’s done her part by clarifying, Say’ri does hers, leaning forward to gently kiss the scales as she might fingertips. Tiki clicks, a sound Say’ri has finally come to expect.
6.
The war’s been over for more than a year, yet the pains of its losses haunt Say’ri. In the evening she wanders the palace walls as if searching for something, finally giving up to lie in the grass outside. Tiki joins her as twilight fades into dark, laying sideways across Say’ri’s stomach and raising an idle hand to stroke Say’ri’s bang. Say’ri’s gaze stays fixed upon the moon as she reaches down in kind.
“Love you, Say’ri,” Tiki purrs. Say’ri’s eyes don’t flutter, her mouth stretching in a withheld yawn.
“Aye—in that much, at least, I’m blessed.”
Fandom: Fire Emblem: Awakening
Pairing: Say'ri/Tiki
Rating: PG
Prompt: #22 - five things
Word Count: 933
Summary: Draconic companions take getting used to (and perhaps, so does having one at all).
Note: For Phrenotobe and inspired by their headcanons. Most of Tiki's actions are based loosely on lizard behavior.
1.
Luckily Say’ri is wearing a top when Tiki darts into her tent, though nothing furnishes her arms or hides the shape of her torso. It’s further luck that Say’ri recognizes that flash of green and red, as an intruder at this hour would earn swift punishment indeed. Before Say’ri can inquire, Tiki tucks herself into such a slight ball behind Say’ri’s equipment that even when Say’ri bends a knee, it’s impossible not to hover over her, height aside. Cold seeps into Say’ri’s bones.
“Milady, prithee tell me, what ails you? A night terror, or an enemy my sword can halt?”
“Neither, at least not without causing a stir.” Tiki’s knees muffle her voice, but it doesn’t sound terribly shaken, given her position. “Anna seems to think I agreed to some promotional event when I assuredly did not, so I’m making myself scarce.”
The cold eases out, to be replaced by a burn. “Be at ease. Anyone who harasses my lady will meet swift punishment, fatal or not.”
“No, I’d rather lay low. We’ll march soon enough. Still, I do not understand. I bobbed my head most vigorously. Can she not take ‘no’ for an answer?”
“Aye, most merchants can’t. Yet…” Say’ri grapples to adjust her armor, only to meet her bare bicep. Her burn shifts from her chest to her neck. “Forgive me, but I may be misconstruing a Ylissean word. Is bobbing not an up-and-down motion?”
“It is. It is a very aggressive gesture. Why?”
The heat slides just under her eyelids, and she knows the march will be spent shifting through memories for accidental transgressions. “Ah, no reason.”
2.
Say’ri wears the blood spattered across her front like a token, albeit one bitterly won. The gash over her elbow is nothing compared to her numbness, insulating her heart from the panic threatening to squash it. She vaults over the rock behind which her lady’s body lies, caring nothing for propriety as she props Tiki’s limp neck against her knee.
“My lady—Tiki, please, awaken! I can’t lose—again, so soon… Please, I swear by my honor I’ll indulge anything that doesn’t impose upon you, I—”
Tiki hums. Say’ri’s breath catches in her throat, bubbling up.
“Splendid showing,” Tiki says, “though playing dead would have been easier if you hadn’t engaged the enemy right there.” Her tongue unfurls as she yawns, poking out from her lazy grin. “But I am gladdened to know you care, Say’ri.”
Say’ri can only sputter, unable to chastise her lady for playing when the alternative is infinitely more dire.
3.
Not that Say’ri isn’t enthused for a good throw-down now and then, and not that it wasn’t…engaging, but no matter how she sweat a bit despite playing only jury, she finds herself perplexed.
“If I’d been transformed, I would have smoked her,” Tiki grumbles. Averting her eyes, Say’ri hands her a cloth to wipe her neck.
“Not literally, I hope. Still, for this form, you performed admirably. Yet, I have to ask, as you seem…troubled; the East-Khan makes a noble opponent indeed, but why did you not ask me to represent you?”
“Silly Say’ri,” Tiki chirps, “do you not know how to compete for a mate?”
So caught off guard is Say’ri that for eloquence’s sake, she cuts the conversation short and goes to discreetly ask Miriel about lizard-mating habits, ultimately making a mental note to warn the next woman who touches her muscles to beware of push-up contests.
4.
The air over the bog sticks to her, one reminder of Chon’sin for which Say’ri was not homesick. She swats the bugs swarming around her with a fan, more irate than she should have been at a relatively harmless foe, as her sword is useless against such small targets. She turns to Tiki, planning to offer her shelter from the elements, but Tiki seems unperturbed, her own buzzing blending in with that of the insects.
A fly bounces against Tiki’s chin, seeming to be drawn by the promise of moisture. She tilts her neck to let it land, then darts her tongue out to lap it up as a cat with milk, licking her lips.
“It’s a wonderful day for a picnic,” she says with a sigh, and Say’ri tries not to think too hard about where that mouth has recently found its way.
5.
The way Tiki’s limbs curl as she arches her back off the ground is even more feline than usual, but it’s not Say’ri’s first thought when the movement makes the scales on her belly flash like light across a drawn sword.
“Showing mates underbellies is a matter of pride,” Tiki explains. She’s finally gleaned, after a discussion with Miriel, that Say’ri is befuddled by her ways; Say’ri’s finally put into awkward, halting words that it makes Tiki all the more enchanting. As Tiki’s done her part by clarifying, Say’ri does hers, leaning forward to gently kiss the scales as she might fingertips. Tiki clicks, a sound Say’ri has finally come to expect.
6.
The war’s been over for more than a year, yet the pains of its losses haunt Say’ri. In the evening she wanders the palace walls as if searching for something, finally giving up to lie in the grass outside. Tiki joins her as twilight fades into dark, laying sideways across Say’ri’s stomach and raising an idle hand to stroke Say’ri’s bang. Say’ri’s gaze stays fixed upon the moon as she reaches down in kind.
“Love you, Say’ri,” Tiki purrs. Say’ri’s eyes don’t flutter, her mouth stretching in a withheld yawn.
“Aye—in that much, at least, I’m blessed.”
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