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exalted-dawn-drabbles · 5 months ago

Note

Ed!! For DADWC: "aloe being slathered on a sunburn" for Shaesa/Alistair?

Thank youuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu for sending this prompt Gin! (For context, one of you lovely people sent me this ask a hot minute ago and I had it marked as one I wanted to do only for me to realize I must have somehow deleted it :((( so im sorry for losing your prompt but thank you for sending it regardless!!!! Hope you enjoy!!!)

for @dadrunkwriting

Rated T: for very very slight innuendos, slice of life, romance, comedy, ~2.2k words (yeah idk how that happened in one night either)

Maybe Days | By Exalted_Dawn

“Uh… so not to ask what we have all been wondering, but may I ask why are you walking like that?” Zevran’s voice cut their travel pace just as efficiently as any one of his daggers. Sharp and pinpointed as always. And a little too mirthful to mean anything good, in Alistair's opinion.

Shaesa turned stiffly to face him, scowling and square as a sign. “Like what?”

“That,” he said, tipping his head to look at her from head to toe. “You have been shuffling for the past half-hour. You look like you are walking with a reasonably-sized stick shoved up your behind,” he said. “Are you in need of a rest? I could massage you, if you like. Your shoulders in particular look rather-” He reached a hand out to rest on Shae’s shoulder, and Alistair nearly tripped in his stumbling flail backwards as Shae jolted and scrambled out from beneath Zevran’s touch.

“What the fuck, Zev?!” she barked, looking almost white as a sheet as she wheeled around to glare at the man. “Don’t startle me like that. I almost pulled a sword on you.”

Zevran and Alistair both stared at her in bewilderment, Zevran in particular. Even Alistair knew that that wasn’t much of an excuse– Zevran had been about as subtle as a drunken druffalo in his approach to that one.

Still though, she insisted on glowering at them with undisguised, near-righteous offense.

Raising a brow, Zevran strode forward again, his hand one again raised to try and touch Shaesa’s arm, but this time she waddled backwards before he even got within a foot of her. Then he tried again, only for her to duck and spin away entirely. It was obvious now, as Alistair watched, that her movements were distinctly stiff and uncomfortable.

He frowned. “Shae?” he asked, trying to keep his tone light. “Not that I don’t think we need it, but surely there are better times to be practicing your dance moves for the Landsmeet? What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing! I’m fine!” she snapped, scurrying away to the left this time. A bemused, but ultimately unmotivated Zevran easily trotted after her.

Alistair wasn’t convinced. “Shae, if you’re injured-”

“I’m not,” she growled, turning her ire onto him. “I’m just a bit-”

Zevran’s hand clamped down again on Shae’s shoulder, and she practically yelped, smacking Zev’s hand away and cowering back like a wounded cat. Suddenly, the assassin’s face blossomed into a wide, bob cat’s grin. “Aha! You did get sunburned during yesterday’s sparring match, didn’t you?!” he exclaimed, finally releasing Shae with a laugh. She glared up at him, and Alistair could see actual tears in her eyes as she tenderly prodded at the spot that had grabbed her with her fingers. Zevran tutted a little, nudging her in her arm with his elbow. “Did not Wynne warn you about the dangers of sparring sleeveless? You didn’t listen to her?”

Shaesa pouted at him weakly. “It was hot out and I was sweating too much. I didn’t want to soak my sleeves through.”

“Nothing but pitiful excuses,” Zevran hummed blithely. Alistair nearly pointed out that Zevran was hardly one to talk, considering how… exposed he regularly insisted on being. But then, he’d never seen the elf with a burn either, so he wasn’t sure if that was an argument that would win once made. Zevran continued. “Regardless, you should see to it that the burn is treated. We will still be on the road for some time, and you wouldn’t want it to get infected further. I have some soothing gel– if you would like, we can find you some privacy and I could-”

“No.”

It was his own voice that barked out louder and more suddenly than even Shaesa’s, who he had practically yelled over in his rush to shoot down Zevran’s suggestion. Suddenly, the area they had been traversing seemed suddenly far too quiet.

Shaesa and Zevran both stared at him in surprise. Maker, even he was thrown off by his own interruption.

Alistair shuffled, his face heating uncomfortably. “W-What I meant to say is that I won’t leave you alone with her. You may have agreed to join our cause, but don’t think I have forgotten the contract that sent you to us. It would be reckless to let Shaesa go off alone into the wilds with someone hired to kill her.”

Especially if she was meant to… expose herself to him. Alistair swallowed, and viciously shoved away the images that thought conjured to mind.

But if Zevran was offended by his excuse made in haste, then he didn’t show it. The Crow smiled wide, raising his hands in mock surrender and taking a very clearly advertised step sideways, away from Shae. “Ah- my apologies. I did not mean to cause any alarm. Your fears are well founded.”

Shaesa made a face. “Zev-”

He held up his hand again, shushing Shae before she could even begin. He continued. “Of course, if you would like to volunteer to help our fantastically fried friend here, I would be more than happy to lend you the salve.” As if to prove a point, he deftly produced a small, metal tin from his hip pouch and waved it between two fingers.

He wasn’t sure which of them looked more horrified– him or Shae.

“What?!” he quacked, his face now almost the same shade as Shae’s. “No. I-”

“Then you would let our beloved leader suffer for the entire trip back to camp?” Zevran pressed, faking innocence.

Shaesa hissed. ““Zevran.”

“Of course not!” Alistair said at the same time, the both of them sounding several shades of scandalized.

“Then I see no issue here!” Zevran finished happily, tossing the lotion to Alistair. The latter only barely caught it, but by the time it was firmly in grasp, Zevran was already walking away. “I swear, you Fereldans and your modesty,” he tutted, batting his hand at an imaginary annoyance. “Whenever you two are finished, I will be over here by this tree, resting and enjoying the shade while I can.”

As though to prove his point, he collapsed onto a bed of shadowed grass and shut his eyes with a contented sigh, the sound a strikingly effective bookend to the conversation. Shae and Alistair were left speechless.

Left to their own devices, they eyed each other nervously, neither wanting to make the first move. But with Zevran firmly planted in his spot, it was clear there would be no easy way of backing out of this.

Shae shrugged a shoulder, gesturing to a nearby copse of trees, and without much else to do, Alistair nodded and followed after her. The trunks of the trees didn’t provide nearly enough cover for Alistair’s liking, but then, he doubted that even a private, locked room would calm the pounding of his heart. This was ridiculous. Of course, he didn’t want Shaesa to be in pain– they still had almost an hour more of walking until they neared camp– but still, surely there was a better solution than-

Shaesa cleared her throat, her eyes forward as she methodically shrugged out of her coat-sleeves, revealing a thin-strapped, cream chemise underneath. “Sorry about that,” she began, a touch of tired frustration to her voice, even as she flashed him a grin. “Seems being a busy-body is an elven thing everywhere, even in Antiva. I’ll yell at him about it later.” She finished ridding herself of the overgarment, her muscles flexing and rolling as she set the quilted blue jacket aside.

Alistair frowned.

The whole of her back was a blistered, bright red. Skin peeled where her bones jutted and he could see spots where the burns had been rubbed raw. It looked bad. Worse than bad.

Shaesa shifted a bit, flashing him an uneasy look. He had been staring.

Alistair flushed, though for a different reason now, and his attention quickly dropped back to the tin in his hand. “Don’t trouble yourself. I doubt any amount of thrashing will force manners through his head,” Alistair murmured, his throat still a bit tight. The lid of the jar popped open after a moment of fiddling, and almost delicately, Alistair dragged his fingers through the clear, white goo. “You’re sure you’re okay with me doing this?” he asked, trying not to sound unwilling. “I can… try to look away, if you’d prefer?”

She merely laughed a little. “If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather you not go blindly poking at my very sore back. I don’t mind it, Alistair. I trust you.”

The way those words made his stomach tumble probably should have been more alarming to him, but unable and now a bit unwilling to back away from that edge. Not with Shaesa’s encouragement at least.

Laden with salve, he reached out, and carefully touched his fingers to her skin.

Immediately, Shaesa bit out a sharp hiss and flinched. “Ah fuck, that’s freezing,” she laughed, and immediately dispersing any worries Alistair had of hurting her. He continued, allowing his hand to drag downward, leaving a stripe of ointment that stretched from her nape to the hem of her low-cut top.

Her skin was scalding. Even through the film of salve, he could feel the way it burned at his fingertips as he steadily applied attention to the spots he deemed needed it most. It felt almost fevered, but somehow hotter than even that, and he had to keep himself from wincing when he thought about how much it must have been hurting her for this entire time. If he had known, Alistair never would have let her come out with them to collect water.

“Sweet Andraste, Shae, why didn’t you say anything?” The ointment applied, he began carefully working it into her skin, and tried desperately not to think about how often he had imagined doing something like this. Her beauty marks seemed to jeer at him, coming in and out of view as his palms passed along the planes of her back. Strong and sturdy, but somehow stately. Like the stocky war horses Eamon kept at the stables.

Though, even with his abysmal experience, Alistair knew better than to share that thought aloud. Not unless he wanted a sunburnt fist to the face, at least.

Shaesa shrugged. “Because I’m stubborn and ox-headed?” she suggested.

A grin pulled at his lips. “I was thinking ‘prouder than one of those prissy, Orlesian lap cats.’” An elbow was driven into his stomach, rightfully so. He barked a laugh. “And catty too. Clearly.”

The woman in front of him snorted, but even from where he stood behind her, he could see the way her ears flexed as she smiled. “Careful. I might be sunburned, but it doesn’t mean I won’t still throw you on your ass, Alistair.”

“I would be a fool to forget it,” he agreed, taking no pains to hide the warmth of affection in his voice when he said it.

His hands rounded her shoulders, gliding up the curve of her neck before dropping back down to pass over the length of her arms. And it would be a lie to say that he didn’t revel a bit in the way she shivered as he did it. Maybe…

“Alright,” he said, letting his hands fall back to his sides. “You have been properly attended to, my Lady. At least well enough to withstand Wynne’s lectures once she finds out about this when we return.”

Shaesa stiffly bent to pick up her jacket and, seeing her struggle to maneuver her arms into the sleeves, Alistair helped her into it. She picked at it irritably, pulling at the spots that stuck to her from the salve. “Thank you,” she said at last. “That admittedly feels much better.”

He grinned. “Just doing my duty to solidify my place as ‘Most Useful Companion’.”

“Well seeing as how you saved my life from Zevran’s dubious intentions and sun poisoning, I would say you’re off to a pretty good start,” she hummed. “A few more months, and maybe you’ll begin to catch up with Fen.”

“Ouch,” he hissed, clutching at his chest in mock-pain. But he could not fight the smile on his face. She began to turn towards the road, and gladly he followed. “I’m losing to the one who licks his own arse in his downtime?”

“Hey– I don’t see you guarding my tent at night.”

“I could,” he offered, too quickly. He only realized what it sounded like after he said it. “...If that was what you wanted.”

But to either his relief or disappointment, she simply snorted. “Now you’re sounding like Zevran.”

“Oh, so we’re using real insults now?” he shot back.

She laughed, shaking her head. It really was such a pretty sound.

“But maybe,” she said, letting her eyes flick up to his playfully. He almost didn’t catch it.

Ahead of them, the brush began to thin, and Alistair could see the road, and the tree beyond where Zevran was undoubtedly still waiting, his arms folded beneath his head where he lay stretched out like an alley cat.

“Maybe…?” he echoed distractedly. His gaze touched hers in confusion.

She grinned brightly, and the smile stretched all the way to the corners of her eyes. And, to Alistair’s utter shock, she actually winked at him.

“Maybe.”

#dadwc #dragon age fanfiction #shaesa tabris #alistair theirin #alistair x tabris #dragon age fanfic #dragon age

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supoctosss · 3 months ago

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It’s been on my mind a lot recently so I wanted to talk about my DAO OC Olive Tabris and Alistair. They have such a complicated relationship, and I’m trying to get it written down right.

When he finds her to apologize Olive breaks down, spilling all the feeling she holds for him, and how they can’t be together because it’s too complicated. Then he kisses her, a sad, knowing kiss. Because as much as Alistair makes himself seem dumb he knows the truth. He knows the hands they were dealt isn’t fair. And right after Radcliffe they head to the temple of sacred ashes, and with all the chaos, and a little bit of both of them avoiding eachother) they never talk about their kiss or her confession. They pick up an assassin elf on the way, and Alistair immediately picks up the look that he has in his eye, the hungry look. But he can’t say anything because they’re nothing to eachother. And Olive tries to push down her feelings for Alistair, and an easy way to do that is to distract herself with the handsome elf, but he’s too confident for her liking so she can’t develop any feelings for him. And Alistair is sitting across the campfire glaring at them and eventually Olive gets tired of it and for the second time they’re arguing, and Alistair is demanding Olive to tell the truth about how she feels bc ‘if you want to be with me than fucking be with me!’ And ‘I love you’ is on the tip of her tongue but she stops herself. Because would it even be the truth? She’s never felt love before, and Alistair doesn’t want her. He wants the idea of her. Olive refuses to be a wife, and she knows that’s what he wants. But she can’t stop herself from kissing him and god does she know it’s wrong, she knows she’s gonna hurt him in the end but just one more kiss won’t hurt. And for a few weeks everything is fine. They don’t tell anyone, and just share knowing glances across the fire. And when they finally get Arl Eamon back to full health Alistair is so happy she almost thinks it might make up for her hurting him. Then he drops the news Alistair has to be King, there’s no other choice. And she watches Alistair’s face drop, and she ignores the sense of sadness hit her because she knew this would happen. She knew they couldn’t be together, but damn her for still having hope. But when Alistair suggests letting Anora rule alone, Olive shuts it down. And once again there’s arguing, and she finally shuts him down completely (‘we can’t be together Alistair! Not now, not ever. Not in this life. Maybe if I was a human we could figure it out. But I’m an Elf, and you’re going to be King. And that’s IF we survive. So we both need to move on!’)

Except he doesn’t, he tries to, tries to stop himself from staring at her when she laughs with Leliana, or reads with Wynne, or ask Sten millions of questions about the Qun. But he can’t stop himself. And the worst part it Zevran is staring too. And he recognizes that look all too well. And Alistair tries not to scream when the two chat quietly with eachother, or when he catches those knowing looks they used to share. And When Alistair spots Zevran lead her to his tent his heart stops. Because despite everything he is so in love with Olive Tabris.

Soon Olive finds herself lost in Zevran, and while there were so many bumps, he got lost in her too. They never call us love, or even a relationship. And Olive loves it, and when he gives her one of his earrings Olive gets giddy. Giddy. As time moves on she finds it easier to ignore Alistair’s stares, and Zevran eventually stopped asking about it. They don’t talk about their future, and perhaps that was a mistake because when Riordan says that the grey wardens that deals the killing blow dies, she had already made her decision. She will sacrifice herself for Alistair, not for the good of ferelden, or even because she still loved Alistair, but because she owed it to him. And when she tells Zev this he cries, he begs her to live, to choose herself. But she doesn’t, and they spend one last incredible night together. And then she slays the Archdemon, and when they soul enters her body she feels peace, because she did something meaningful.

Then she wakes up. And finds out Alistair did a dark ritual with Morrigan (even though he won’t tell her what, and where’s morrigan gone?) Alistair tries to not look at her with those lovesick eyes, and fails miserably, so instead he kisses her cheek, tells her he’s proud to have known her, and that Zevran is waiting for her. And as he walks away they both think “maybe in another life” and while Olive has a love like no other with Zevran, and eventually they have two babies, twins, Olive could never stop herself from thinking of the what ifs. And while Alistair never finds a new love, he is eventually able to look at his best friends, his first love’s, family and feel a genuine joy for her.

This was so fun to write 🫶

#dragon age #dragon age 4 #dragon age the veilguard #zevran arainai #dragon age origins #dragon age alistair #zevran x tabris #warden tabris #female tabris #tabris oc #alistair x tabris

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thcscus · 5 months ago

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(shows up to the party 15 years late with iced coffee) is this anything

#dragon age #da origins #wip #alistair x warden #alistair x tabris #im so miserable guys #why did NO ONE fucking tell me i cant marry the king if im an elf racism be damned

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prophetssong · 2 years ago

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Alistair and the warden are close friends

#dragon age #dragon age origins #alistair theirin #warden tabris #alistair x tabris #mine

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onethousandeyeslooking · 3 months ago

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(In honor of Veilguard coming out in just over a month, I figured I should actually start posting about Dragon Age more. And, of course, that comes with speaking about the tragic heroes who dominate my canon world state. So, might as well start with the first.)

Senrian Tabris. Hero and Warden Commander of Ferelden.

Age (during DA:O): 19 (born 9:11 Dragon)

Origin: City Elf

Class: Warrior (Dual wield)

Romance: Alistair

People are often surprised when they see the Warden-Commander for the first time— the lauded Hero of Ferelden, much to their shock, is a short and slight elven man, his long face often pulled into a measured, polite smile. Upon first impressions, he can often come off as fairly unassuming. The only hint of a life of war is the fire that often stirs behind hazel eyes.

But if you stir his temper, though... then you'll see why the nobles in Denerim still regard him with some caution whenever he visits.

When I think about Senrian as a character, the first word that always comes to mind is "duty". He picks his causes, and he fully devotes himself to them. He's a very "lawful good" character, but in the sense that the laws in question are his own internal moral codes (as opposed to the exterior laws, which he often finds... disappointing, to say the least), he's serious, but in a less stern and more polite way. I find I really enjoy the dichotomy that he creates as a character, someone who (on a logical level), believes that he has to do certain things to keep those he loves safe, someone who's incredibly kind and polite, but underneath that also has this incredibly intense and fiery streak that can (for better or worse) sometimes override his rationality.

Despite his mental binds, Senrian is a character that feels. He feels so deeply and intensely. Oftentimes that comes out as anger. He holds his grudges close to his heart, and sometimes his loyalty to his family (both chosen and blood) can leave bodies in its wake if they're hurt. Before Origins, this was only really seen in his tendency to frequently lose servant jobs for arguing with employers over mistreatment of his co-workers. This reached a boiling point, though, in my interpretation of the city elf origin, wherein he doesn't just kill the arl's son, but also ends up burning down a not-insignificant portion of the estate itself.

He takes well to the Wardens. He enjoys the good purpose it gives him, and fighting the darkspawn becomes an easy outlet for less-desirable violent feelings.

He also takes well to the wardens because he almost always places the feelings and lives of others above his own. A lot of this obligation and duty all stems from when his mother died for him when he was younger (a childish mistake led to his mother getting into a fight with some city guards that resulted in her death). His older sister always somewhat blamed him as well, and ended up running away from home, leaving just him to look after his father. He internalized a lot of this guilt and blame.

This personality leads to him making decisions I don't always agree with as a player, but the repercussions of those actions often (in my own opinion) make for a significantly more interesting story.

(pardon my less than stellar art skill)

(fun fact! I went into Origins almost completely blind, and at the time I didn't know elven facial tattoos were mainly a dalish thing. So now Senrian has a face tattoo that I honestly don't have much of an explanation as to why he has. Eh, sometimes it can be something as simple as personal preference.)

Appearance-wise I don't have nearly as much to say about him. He's pretty short at 5'4" (162 cm), and is a pretty powerful warrior, despite his lighter build. I also designed him before I knew his mother had a canon appearance, so he just takes after his father more than anything else.

In my personal opinion, he's quite pretty, if that counts for anything, haha.

(templates from here. Please note that the relationships represented here are how Senrian feels about the characters in question, not myself. Also, the colors closest to Senrian's icon are first impressions/initial dynamics, while the further out the colors are, the further along in the story the dynamic change is.)

Now, getting this out of the way— why did I mod the game for a bi Alistair, instead of just romancing Zevran? (As that would've been the only canon option for him— Senrian is a gay man.) Well, funny story, I originally went into Senrian's run thinking it was just going to be a little side project to romance Zevran while my main save at the time (a different warden) would be my canon run. But I latched onto Senrian very fast, and knew I wanted to romance Alistair as soon as I spoke to the guy for the first time.

It turns out that I actually really ended up enjoying the dynamic the two wardens ended up having with eachother— and their story ended up being very sweet and very tragic. Senrian was the one who encouraged Alistair to take the crown, trusting him more as a possible ruler of his country than the daughter of a man who had just tried to sell his entire family into slavery. It ties back into his views on duty, and doing things you don't want to do for the sake of the greater good. Of course, this ended up biting him in the ass when Alistair being crowned as king ended up leading to their relationship ending. Senrian was mad, but he couldn't bring himself to be mad at anyone but himself. He'd kind of always been expecting something like this to happen anyways, at the back of his mind, ever since the possibility that he'd become king was on the horizon. Doesn't mean it didn't hurt, though.

They both still love eachother. I haven't actually decided if they eventually get back together or not, but I know the king has his regrets. There's a portrait of the Hero of Ferelden somewhere in the castle with a wedding ring that Senrian never had. There's also a rose garden he tends to himself.

(once again, this portrait was commissioned from kittyoperas here on tumblr.)

So, after getting broken up with, he still ended up doing the ritual with Morrigan because he felt that he couldn't just leave Ferelden with one warden standing after the blight, who already had enough to do as king (let alone knowing Alistair well enough to know what his death might do to the man). It was kind of a last bitter twist of the knife, as well, as Senrian had always wanted children. He loved the idea of being a father.

So! In light of Veilguard coming out soon, you might be wondering what he's doing nowadays. Me too! All I know is that he's in the deep roads, trying to fix another thing he thinks is his job to fix (for some reason. He really needs to give himself a break.) Oh! Also might be lightly possessed! But that's a story for another time.

But... yes. That's Senrian Tabris. If you're interested, here is his spotify playlist, and here is his pinterest board.

Oh, and because I didn't have anywhere else to put it, the only image I actually have of him and Alistair together (not counting in-game screenshots, which are travesties because I absolutely cannot get Senrian to look how he's supposed to in-game) is this really stupid modern au meme redraw. Have fun with that.

#ah shit i forgot i said id post about them #well here is senrian #i need to actually finish the first chapter of his longfic so i can start posting it #dragon age #dragon age origins #warden tabris #alistair x tabris #Senrian Tabris

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