Vhenan Aravel
Chapter 2: Married Life - Mellifluous Reflections

Copyright© 2017 by eatenbydragons

Fan Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 2: Married Life - Mellifluous Reflections - Raviathan, a city elf with too many secrets and regrets, undergoes a long journey in order to find his way in the world. Part 1 is a Dragon Age Blight fic with many additions and twists to the original story. This story starts off on the fluffy side, but beware. Thar be dragons, and it will dip into darker territories. I'd rather overtag for potential triggers than undertag. Rape and prostitution occur rarely in the overall narrative, but they are present.

Caution: This Fan Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Ma/Ma   Consensual   Magic   Rape   Reluctant   Romantic   Gay   BiSexual   Heterosexual   Fiction   Fan Fiction   High Fantasy   Interracial   Anal Sex   Analingus   First   Masturbation   Oral Sex   Petting   Prostitution  

Dawn was just breaking, shading the grey sky with a band of pink. Workers trudged in a steady procession of ones and twos to the gates, rubbing the sleep from half opened eyes. A few nodded Raviathan’s way as they travelled along, but most ignored him. Raviathan headed down the main street, up two side streets, then through a wide alley. There was no order to the buildings in the alienage aside from the mutually agreed upon square and main road. Buildings just popped up wherever someone chose to live.

The farther from the square and the Market entrance, the shabbier the homes became. He passed a new home that had been erected about a year ago by an older couple who no longer had children living with them. It was a lean to, a few worn boards scavenged from the city and tacked on to an existing home. Raviathan expected that in ten years, the alley would be half its current width with a dozen similar homes added on. The shelters would become more stable as successive generations built floors and true walls. When that happened, second tiers would be added. It was how his apartment building had developed.

To Raviathan these humble new homes seemed hopeful. Families found a nitch to live in. These shelters might start off as modest, just a few boards to protect from the rain and cold, but like seeds drifting through the air, families found hold somewhere and started growing. It was the history of elves. Their homelands were taken, but the race survived. Shems said elves were like weeds, unwanted and tough to eradicate. Being called a weed was no insult. His people were resilient. Elves take the barest places and find a way to live.

The apartment he was looking for was on the other side of the alienage from his. Raviathan walked into a hallway, up a flight of stairs, and out the back where a system of scaffolding was in place. Who knew why someone hadn’t occupied this area yet, but the poles and ledges were easy to climb and unused. It was the most discreet path to the apartment he sought. Down a short hall, he knocked on the familiar door.

A pale woman with very dark brown hair and shimmering dark eyes let him in. “Rav. I didn’t expect you. Would you like some breakfast?”

Her voice was like rich, dark chocolate. Raviathan absolutely loved her voice. “No, no. I already ate.”

“Tea then?”

“Sure.” Had it been summer, she would have insisted he eat something. Toast at least. Winters were always times of conservation though. He took the other chair at the table. The kettle on top her little pot bellied stove was still steaming, and Raviathan noticed the blankets for her sleeping mat had already been stowed away. His eyes lingered there for a moment.

“I have to be at work within the hour. Perhaps...”

Raviathan nodded looking down at his hands. “Miram. I don’t know how to say this tactfully.” Her dark eyes went wide with alarm as she set the mug in front of him. He gave her a little smile to let her know it wasn’t serious. “My father has arranged a bride for me.”

Her shoulders slumped slightly in relief, which Raviathan understood well enough. If they had been found out, the consequences for her would have been worse than the exile he faced. Any adult caught having sex with a child would have their ears docked to show they were no longer elven. The former elf would then be beaten, stripped naked, and dumped in a pauper’s field to be shunned by all elves for the remainder of his or her life. Miram and the others had risked everything, short of their lives, for him.

A sad half smile lifted the corners of her mouth, and she took his hand. “Well. I thought we might have another year or so, but we both knew it was coming eventually. Who paid the dowry?”

“We did.”

“When will she be here?”

“Today. I just found out this morning.”

“Hmm,” she said starting her breakfast of toast and honey. “Seems quick.”

Raviathan sighed with a nod. This was exactly why he liked the older women. No hysterics. No big scene. They were realists. He wondered what Miram had been like when she was his age. He hoped his wife would be as beautiful, capable, and compassionate. Folding his fingers together, Raviathan studied his hands. “Miram, I want to be a good husband.”

She smiled and squeezed his wrist. “You will be. You’ve got a good heart Rav.”

A drop of honey that had been on her finger stuck on his wrist in a sticky oval. He sucked it off. “I’m worried about it. What if I don’t like her?”

Her dark eyes turned down as she dribbled more honey on her toast, and her smile turned mysterious. “Worry about that after you meet her.”

“But...”

Dark eyes held his. “Do you love your cousins?”

“Of course.”

“Did you get to choose them?”

Raviathan blew out a breath understanding her point. “But I grew up with them. We’ve shared everything together.”

“True. And that’s part of what’s exciting about these matches. There’s a whole person for you to get to know. There will always be a little mystery, and a lot of discovery.” She studied him for a moment then said, “You know why we have arranged marriages?”

Raviathan shrugged. “To promote connections with other alienages. Keep our lines strong.”

“That’s part of it. Why we don’t have marriages within an alienage. But one of the reasons it’s arranged is that it takes away judgment.” Raviathan cocked his head inviting further explanation. “You don’t judge your cousins because no matter what you do, you can’t change the fact that they’re your cousins. It’s the same with siblings. There might be some fighting, because that’s how children are, but you still love them. Shems choose their own spouses, and many times they end up miserable. Not always, but they seem a lot less successful than elves. They make their choice out of infatuation or lust, but that doesn’t last. When the emotions run their course, they still want that excitement, but they’re stuck, and then they start to resent their spouse. They act as if they’ve been betrayed because they can’t keep what was promised. They have all these expectations that were failed. Neither of you have any expectations. You come to each other fresh, and knowing your fate, will do your best to get along.”

Raviathan smiled and squeezed her wrist, avoiding the honey on her fingers. “Good advice. But what if she doesn’t like me?”

The fine lines around Miram’s eyes crinkled as she smiled. “Rav, you’re too damn charming when you want to be. Give her that smile, and be the sweet boy that you can be, and you’ve got no worries my dear.”

Raviathan leaned down to kiss the top of her hand. Had he not been betrothed, he would have sucked the honey off her fingers. “Thank you,” he whispered. He finished his tea while she cleaned her hands. They embraced and kissed goodbye.

“I still expect a visit now and then for tea.”

“I can finally use the front entrance.”

She laughed. “It’ll be fine Rav.” She studied him again with eyes as large and endless as the night sky. “You know, I’m grateful we had these years. You made me feel young again. And,” she said wrapping one arm around him in a half embrace, “I never thought I’d feel so much like a woman again.”

He stroked her cheek with his thumb and gave her one final kiss on the lips, sweet as it was light. He rested his forehead against hers. “Thank you,” he whispered. When he leaned back, he studied her dark eyes for a long moment. “You’re really alright?”

“Sure,” she said patting his arm. “Or at least I will be soon. Not to worry.”

The two of them headed in different directions down the hall. Raviathan’s way was quicker, and he was already past the alley by the time she left the building, a sad but content smile on her lips.

Raviathan climbed a semi-permanent ladder to some scaffolding that the residents of the second story considered a deck. He crept across a roof top so as not to disturb the family inside then around the building. One day the scaffolding would be closed off to make proper hallways, but until then Raviathan would use it to travel between apartments. He dropped down through a small hole in the corner of the scaffolding, made a turn through the tight construction, avoiding waste puddles, and arrived at his second errand.

Bethany, a sweet faced red head, let him in. Just as with Miram, there was no drama. She smiled, quietly accepting the news, and they said a bittersweet goodbye to the relationship. When Raviathan left, jumping against the stone wall and grasping the edge of the hole to pull himself up to the deck, he felt like he had been cleansed. He walked a little straighter, his head held a little higher. Both women had been graceful and sweet, glad for the time they had and ready to move on. They were all done with the relationships they had to hide. As much as he had enjoyed his time, they had all been at risk and with risk came an undercurrent of guilt.

“Be a good husband Rav,” Bethany had said. “If I knew I would only have fourteen years with my Dennin, I would have soaked up every minute we had together for all that it was worth. Look for the good, and build on that.”

It was strange to feel so light. It was an odd sort of freedom, and he paused for a moment in a hidden corner between ramshackle homes and turned his face to the sun. He closed his eyes and let the sun’s light wash his skin, the heat sinking in. This new freedom made him dizzy. It wasn’t until that moment that he realized how oppressive all the hiding had been. Before the widows, there had been a greater chance of being found out, but with them the consequences were much worse.

The grumblings of the works leaving the alienage and the morning greetings between women drifted up from the ground below. Pregnant women and those women who remained at home took care of the young children. They traded jokes and bits of gossip between them as they went about their business. A toddler started crying, his clumsy arms reaching for his mother’s retreating back. Little Terin. He was the first child Raviathan had delivered without his aunt. It had been so much scarier without her. The burden of responsibility had been solely on him, and it was one of the few times he had felt loneliness. It had been an easy delivery, thank the Maker, and when the little blue eyed boy was in his arms, that loneliness retreated. He had never felt that way since.

As he cleaned the tiny newborn, his heart had swelled just as it had when his cousin Eldwyn, the first child he had ever helped deliver, was born. It was in the moment Terin was born, healthy and whole, that Raviathan understood the protectiveness his mother and aunt had for the alienage. They were the caretakers and guardians, and it was their strength and wisdom that stood like holy pillars in his mind.

Terin quieted when his auntie Myra wiggled a little stuffed bear in front of him. The tears stopped as he reached for the bear, his auntie leading him back in to the warmth of her home. As much as he hated the rumors, his family was everything to him. How did his bride feel about leaving her home? How many people and memories was she leaving behind? Sometimes he heard stories from the other elves who travelled to Denerim, how strange a new alienage could be, how it was just familiar enough that the differences were all that more noticeable.

In some ways he would have preferred to be the one to leave for a new alienage. The idea was exciting, as was the prospect of getting away from the reputation he had. It would be a wonderful thing to start somewhere fresh and unknown where he could leave the rumors and memories behind. No matter his efforts, those rumors continued to dog him. What wouldn’t he give up for a clean start? Those thoughts lasted until he thought of leaving his father and cousins behind. Raviathan wondered if his father had paid a dowry because it would be less noticeable if no one wanted to take him for a match for their daughter. Dowry prices were not discussed much, so an excessive one to make up for a possible bad match could go unnoticed.

The feeling of lightness diminished, and Raviathan started back for Alarith’s shop. Whoever this Nesiara was, he hoped that she would not be too put off when she learned more about him. It was a depressing thought, and he wondered why he was so worried about what he would think of her. He was a selfish child.

“Hey, Rav,” a woman whispered from her door.

He glanced at her then nonchalantly scanned the alley. Seeing no one, he ambled toward the door and slipped inside a tiny one room apartment. One wall of the home was the plaster exterior of another house, and gaps in the wood had been roughly patched or stuffed with hay muck. Sleeping mats for the couple and their child to share lay in one corner. Instead of a proper stove, they had a stone box to cook their food. Cevin, a boy of three, sat miserably on the wooden toilet.

“Thanks for coming in,” Alorn said. She was pathetically thin with worn hair and worn clothes and a worn slump to her slender shoulders. “Cevin’s been throwing up and having the runs since yesterday.”

Raviathan knelt down in front of the boy and rested his hand against the child’s head. “Hey Cevin,” he said gently. “You’re not feeling well?”

“No,” he said in a slow whine. He panted slightly when a watery slosh came from the bucket. “Tummy hurt.”

“Tummy hurts, huh?” Raviathan put a hand over his lower stomach and asked, “Does it hurt here?”

Cevin managed a ‘m-hmm’ and nodded. Raviathan brushed back the boy’s fine hair then stood to talk to Alorn quietly. “Two days you said? He has a fever. Any other symptoms?”

Alorn crossed her arms over her stomach. “Started yesterday afternoon. He started throwing up. I wasn’t sure if I should talk to you.”

Nearly everyone knew about him. While he understood his father’s desire for caution, there were many more times he saw it as foolish or occasionally dangerous. “It’s fine. I think Cevin has a pretty common infection. Give him more water to make up for what he’s losing and mix a bit of salt with it. Enough so that it tastes like a tear. Feed him in smaller meals throughout the day, and that will help when he needs to vomit. No fruit. Broth is best. If you can, give him an elfroot leaf to chew on. The infection is transferred through feces, so make sure you clean yourself and him well, and be careful how you clean the toilet so it doesn’t spread. He should be fine in a few days. If not, let Alarith know and I’ll make something, but I don’t think that will be necessary.”

“Okay,” Alorn said. “So it’s not serious then?”

“Well,” Raviathan said. He didn’t want to worry her needlessly, but there were dangers. “As long as he gets enough fluid, he should be fine. Let me know, alright?”

“Sure Rav.” Alorn fidgeted then started to say, “About payment...”

 
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