#danarius is a rat bastard

[timesorceror]

Day 19 (January 25th) - Anders and Mark of the Assassin

The theme for this day is Anders in Mark of the Assassin.

For @justhanderspositive‘s challenge: [HERE].

When Hayden walked through the room, everyone’s heads turned.

And it wasn’t because they’d been the one to slay the first wyvern (or indeed, the largest), it was most likely because of the outfit that they entered the room with. It was a set of dress robes, all long red silk and black lace and brocade, one which left their shoulders bare to show off the long black curls that fell in elegant waves around their face, though Hayden had deliberately decided to leave off shaving their stubble, electing instead to apply a small bit of kohl around their eyes and a swipe of bright red lipstick to match the robes. And, the robes were corseted. Quite obviously so.

Anders watched as Hayden walked through the people, making small talk with Duke Prosper and some of the other nobles that milled about. Eventually, they made their way over to where he stood with Fenris and Tallis, the latter of the two whistling softly at Hayden’s approach.

“Well! You clean up nice,” she complimented them, “Much, much better than nice…” Anders watched her eyes rake down Hayden’s form and he frowned, though beside him, he could also hear Fenris’ low growl of possession. Hayden laughed lightly and waved the tension away with a hand.

“I appreciate the sentiment, Tallis, but do refrain from making passes at me with my partners next to us? Or at least in the room?” They flashed her that winning smile of theirs.

Tallis glanced over at Anders and Fenris, edging over a few steps when she noticed Fenris’ flattened ears and sharp glare. Anders knew how it felt to be under that intense gaze, wondering if looks could indeed burn a hole through one’s skull and kill a person. Certainly, the heat in Fenris’ eyes alone should’ve been enough to at least set her ablaze.

“I, well… yes. Does that also mean you are off limits when they are not in the room?”

“I’m afraid it does,” Hayden said airily, with an undercurrent of finality. “Now, Anders, the Duke tells me that the Remigold should be coming up soon, and I must have that dance with you and you alone before some other pair of hands steals you away.” Anders, who was also wearing a set of corseted robes (though his were a much more subtle green and gold affair, built more for support and to emphasize his hips than anything close to the masterpiece that Hayden wore), took Hayden’s hand and glanced back at Fenris, who was still glaring daggers at a now very unsettled Tallis.

“Do try not to kill our assassin with your eyes, Fen?” Hayden asked as they walked out onto the ballroom floor. “We need her for later.”

Distantly, he heard Fenris grumble something that sounded like, “If you don’t hurry back I wouldn’t count on it,” which made Anders laugh as he leaned over to press a kiss into Hayden’s hair. Hayden preened under his attention, which made Anders laugh even more.

“You’re like a little bird under all this attention,” he told them as they got into position to begin the dance. Hayden huffed. “I never do this back home, and now I wonder why I don’t. Here, I don’t have to hide what I am or care about anything anyone says. It’s liberating.” The music began and Anders took the lead in the dance as Hayden fell into the comfortable routine of following. Anders nodded in understanding.

“They do seem to like your outfit. You really went all out with it, didn’t you?”

“Your robes are corseted too,” Hayden pointed out, but Anders shook his head. “True, but mine are more for pleasure than presentation. You, my love, set out to make a statement. And you have.” Anders leaned in close to press a kiss against a corner of Hayden’s lips, feeling the gentle scratch of Hayden’s stubble against his own.

“I do like that you chose not to shave,” Anders confessed. “It helps add that extra touch of rebellion to your presentation tonight. It makes me all a-tingle.”

Hayden hummed contentedly as Anders spun them around the room until the dance came to a close. They sighed, more than a little disappointed that it was over.

“We were having such a wonderful time,” they lamented. “Why must all good things come to an end?” Anders chuffed and brushed a stray lock of hair from Hayden’s eyes. “I think that’s more a question for Varric, not me. I’m no philosopher.”

“But you are a wordsmith,” they pointed out. “I’ve read your manifesto. Your words are like a kind of magic all their own, you know?”

“After months and months of editing,” Anders muttered, which made Hayden snicker as they approached Fenris and Tallis. Fenris was no longer glaring at the other elf, but the red-headed assassin still seemed unsettled to be standing next to the man who’d been glaring daggers at her for the entire length of the dance.

“Oh hey, um, Hayden, do you think we could go, um, mingle with the nobles some more?” She tittered a bit when Fenris glanced at her, not glaring again yet, but definitely staring. “Maybe, um, we could find that key we need since I burned a good set of lockpicks on that door, right?”

Hayden sighed softly, removing themselves from Anders’ arm and offering her one of their own. “Well, I suppose we should. Anders, why don’t you see if you can get Fenris to dance, hmm?” They flashed a smile at the sullen elf, who flushed when Hayden’s soft blue eyes caught theirs. “I know we’re not just here for the party, but really, you should enjoy yourselves! Just don’t sample the ham, I hear it tastes of despair.”

And with that, they were whisked off by Tallis to go pester the nobles some more, promising to meet back up once they had the key and the information they needed to get inside to steal the jewel they’d come for (though Anders had a sneaking suspicion that either they were here for more than just a jewel or they weren’t there for a jewel at all, but that of course remained to be seen).

Anders turned his head to glance at Fenris.

“You don’t have to dance if you don’t want to,” he said, trying to help the elf relax as much as he could around so many strange people. “But you should at least sample the wine.”

Fenris smirked.

“I did. And Duke Prosper is either a fool or has better tastes than I’d normally give someone like him credit for, if the quality of these early wines are better or worse than the wines that are served later when most people are good and properly drunk. That’s when people break out the good stuff, because people don’t drink as much when they’re already drunk.”

Anders felt a single eyebrow raise with his curiosity.

“You know a lot about wines, don’t you? Is that…”

“…something I learned in Danarius’ service? Yes. I wasn’t just his bodyguard, if you recall. I tasted his wine, his first bites of food, checked the meats to see if they were properly cooked…” Anders shuddered with disgust. “Revolting that he turned you into his food taster. What if you’d been poisoned?”

Fenris shrugged. “He only started making me learn when he discovered that someone had been poisoning my rations, to get me out of the way, presumably so they could try to kill him without my interference.”

Anders blinked at him owlishly. “You’re immune to poison?”

“Resistant. I think I’m immune to some of the lesser strains, but more potent poisons do tend to have some effect on me if I’m exposed to them for long enough. Anyway, it made me that much more useful, though he was never quite sure if my resistance was natural or yet another side effect of the brands, like my hair.” Anders nodded, turning back to watch the couples dancing on the floor as he let this information settle in his head. “Yes, I suppose, knowing that, it seems practical to have you as a food taster. He was still a right piece of shit, though.”

Fenris chuckled warmly. “Well, I suppose I should be flattered that you think so. By the way, I think I recognize the next set coming up. Does that offer for a dance still stand?”

Anders cocked his head, listening to the music, and turning to face Fenris again.

“You know this one? Let me guess, yet another of the “gifts” that rat bastard bestowed on you?“

"Yes,” Fenris agreed, “but at least this is one that I will enjoy reclaiming for myself. Come dance with me, Anders, so that I can forget about that assassin for a little while.” Anders hummed in amusement as he linked his arm with Fenris’ and they walked out to take up their places for the next dance.

“Hayden is still with her, if you recall.”

“Hayden can handle themselves,” Fenris purred, grasping Anders’ waist to signal that he wanted the lead in this dance, which Anders gladly acquiesced to. “You, on the other hand, are trouble when no one is watching you.” He leaned up to capture Anders’ lips in a kiss, which Anders couldn’t help but smile into.

“Trouble, am I? I’ll show you trouble,” he said, gripping Fenris’ waist gently. Fenris grinned, and a familiar spark lit within the depths of his wide green eyes.

“Later,” he whispered as the music started up slowly. “It wouldn’t do to leave Hayden out of the nights’ festivities. Not after they went to such trouble to wear what they did…” Anders laughed under his breath. “I knew I wasn’t the only one of us to be so affected by those robes. I can’t wait to get this heist over with so we can remove them together.”

“And yours,” Fenris added. “And yours,” Anders repeated with emphasis. “After all, it’s not an Orlesian party until everyone is naked.” Fenris merely chuckled and pulled Anders close, sweeping his mage off of his feet for a few blissful, contented moments of magical revelry.

That is, until Hayden and Tallis arrived back with the key, and the heist began in earnest…

[kiastirling-fanfic]

happy friday! :D from the micro-stories prompt list, "trembling hands" for... perhaps Fenris?

@dadrunkwriting

It's a short one, and it's not happy :D enjoy!

“If you don’t want me around right now that’s fine, Fenris,” Hawke had said before they parted, “just don’t be alone. Not tonight.”

On most nights, Fenris would have thrown a book at Hawke’s head, the meddlesome bastard, but not tonight. Hawke was right. He shouldn’t be alone.

Perhaps he should be celebrating. Danarius was dead, his body was likely already carted from the Hanged Man to feed the rats in Darktown. It was a relief to have his old master finally removed from all equations. No one held a claim upon Fenris but himself any longer. But that was the problem. No one held a claim upon Fenris.

Another drink slid across the bar into his trembling hands, the clamor of the Rose insufficient to drown out the screaming in his soul.

He should not have pinned all his hopes to Varania. He saw it now. He could never be her Leto again, though he had tried. Hawke taught him to read, and his letters back and forth to Tevinter had become more skillful over the years, he thought they had formed some kind of bond over the ashes of a man he had never been. By now she would be in Darktown too, her corpse chewed alongside the blighted magister she had tried to sell him to.

It was no more than she deserved. Whether she knew in her youth what Danarius had done to him, she had known long before she ever ventured to Kirkwall. It was she who drew the line between them in the end, who decided the choice would be one life over another.

That didn't mean killing her didn't hurt.

Late into the night, Fenris would find a familiar face beside him, and he must have poured his heart out to the man, though he could not remember doing so.

“To dead shitty sisters,” Gamlen Amell growled, toasting with a shot of some swill.

[thethirdamell]

What DA2 characters do you like rivaling?

Don’t judge me.

Fenris and Isabela, without fail. 

Fenris - Rivalry with Fenris is gained by helping mages, or perhaps more appropriately phrased, by making him help mages since he’s in the party with you. The difference in a friend/rival Fenris is staggering. In his final conversation, if you’re his friend, Fenris has not changed. He still blames magic for everything that has happened to him. If you’re his rival, he doesn’t. He accepts that he’s responsible for his own life and seems to have a healthier outlook. 

Granted, his delivery of these lines can make it seem like friendship is preferable, because Fenris is very calm versus very angry, but I think it’s important to actually hear what he’s saying. Friendship Fenris: It’s just difficult to overlook the stain that magic has left on my life. If I seem bitter it’s not without cause. Perhaps it is time to move forward. I just don’t know where that leads. Do you? Hawke: You’re still blaming magic for everything? Fenris: Think about it Hawke. Look at what happened to your mother. Look at the life you’ve had to lead.  IS there anyone whos’ life has been touch by magic that actually benefits?  Hawke: Blaming magic isn’t the answer.

Fenris: For every mage such as you, there are a dozen more too weak to handle their power. Them I fear. As you should you. As should anyone.  And that’s it. You don’t get to counter that argument any further because why would you? You’re his friend and Fenris-friends are pro-templar. That conversation doesn’t happen at all in a Rivalry. 

Rivalry Fenris: Six years ago, I decided to stay with you, in part because I owed you, but I also thought you could help me. And you did. Hadriana is dead. Danarius is dead. I am finally free. But none of it feels like it should. This freedom tastes like ashes. 

Hawke’s response is irrelevant. 

Fenris: You’re not responsible for my misery. Why am I angry at you? ... What do I do now Hawke?  Hawke’s response is irrelevant. Fenris: Maybe it is time to leave this hatred behind. It’s poison, yet I continue to swallow it. There is no one left to blame. What I have done, I have done to myself.  What’s really interesting is Hawke can try to swing the conversation back to Danarius/Mages here and Fenris just flat out rejects it. Purple Hawke: Danarius isn’t exactly blameless. Fenris: Perhaps, but he’s dead now. If I have been difficult, I’m sorry. 

And that’s it. No nonsense about how Danarius was a mage and all mages are to blame, nothing about how it’s mages fault. Just a nice, “It’s over, I’m sorry.” 

Isabela - Similar theme. Rivalry for Isabela is gained by helping for the sake of helping, not asking for rewards, refusing to hand over POISON. All good things, but they’re not helping Isabela any, they’re just helping for the sake of helping and making her participate in selfless acts. Nothing particularly evil about it. 

Her rivalry conversation in Act 3 is admitting you were right and she’s proud of killing Castillon, if you chose that option (which one assumes you would considering it kills the slaver rather than letting him go free which is more in line with the rivalry relationship.) 

Isabela: “Isabela just had an epiphany is all. I’ve done lousy things to people. I thought ignoring the consequences of my actions made me free. I was wrong, wasn’t I?” “You’ve always assumed I’m a stronger person than I really am. Even now, I don’t know if I can be that person, but I’m willing to try, for you. You just ... have to be patient with me. I want to be someone you’d be proud to be with.” 

A friendship conversation doesn’t have any of the above. Isabela thanks you for having her back and invites you to travel on her ship with her, but makes no promises to change anything about her behavior.

Those two are my big ones, for what I consider to be ‘good rivalry’ options, but on the completely opposite end of the spectrum, I was delighted when Aveline beat the shit out of my Hawke on a rivalry playthrough because he was a rat bastard and deserved it. 

[tk-duveraun]

🍺 Fox, your most interesting adventure?

Let’s be clear from the beginning, it wasn’t my fault. 

Rathi was Dalish, right? He wasn’t his clan’s First, since he wasn’t a mage, but his little brother was, but Tava was a bastard and half-human besides and their parents are shit, but that’s not the story.

Dalish. Right. So. Tava was a laetans, despite being an elf, but Rathi wasn’t. He was lucky if anyone considered him soporati, but he was raised like a prince. Not really like a prince. They don’t have princes, but you get the idea. Spoiled rotten. Silver spoon that’s not silver. Tin spoon. Tin is rare, right? Terrible for alchemy.

Look, do you want to hear the story? Stop complaining. I’m getting there.

Right. Rathi. Well Tava told Rathi I am a rather promiscuous sort, and I am if I’m not in a relationship, and Rathi decided he wanted a lamp of his own, so he pops in to the tavern where I’m drinking in Minrathous, but it’s all alti and he’s waltzing in with his vallaslin and tight-cut hunter gear… Well the others didn’t like that one bit.

He was kidnapped pretty much immediately. Not to defend those fucks, but they’re dead now and it feels important that they thought he was a slave. Well, he gets kidnapped, and I don’t know Rathi at this point, but all the same, I’m just thinking “Well, fuck, I should go see about that. If that kid is like Danarius’s lyrium ghost he’s gonna rip out all of their throats and I kind of had dibs…

Well I get up to the estate, it’s the Sokolov joint. You would not believe it. I couldn’t believe. I don’t know how those gutter rats even got a house in Minrathous. Anyway, I get in there and Rathi’s using his mouth.

No, not that way, I’m telling a story here!

He is a very fast talker. And remember, he was at the tavern to get a piece of this, so he sees me walk in and he jumps at the opportunity. Says I belong to him and my family will be terribly offended should anything happen to him, so we go through a whole song and dance trying to sell it to them, then Vasili walks in, looking debauched, as usual.

Yes, I mean as usual. It’s frankly shocking he’s wearing trousers right now.

Well Vasili walks in and starts going on a tear about how they all drank George’s wine.

Yes, George his demon, stop interrupting.

They drank George’s wine.

George’s poisoned wine.

I’ll spare you the gory details and just say Rathi and I were suddenly supremely popular for his emetic poison and my healing magic.

And yes, he did use his mouth later. .

Ask your own here.

[xiz0r]

Evening Skinny-Dip at the Wounded Coast

Inktober Day 4 - "Underwater"

You can read the ficlet that was written to accompany this art by Lisakodysam.

“Come on, it’s not far.” Garrett tightened his grip around Fenris’s arm, assisting the elf to step over large roots and the organic debris that littered the forest floor.  “We’re almost there.”

“Are you certain you know the way back to camp?”

Garrett shrugged, his mouth twisting into a smirk.  “Probab—”

“Probably?  That is unusually decisive for you.”

Garrett drew to a halt and turned to Fenris, who’d dug both thumbs into his belt, his lyrium-marked arms like moonlit wings as they bent at his sides.  “Sarcasm does not become you, dear,” he said to the elf.

“Oh, but it does.  After all, we’re half a mile out of camp with no clear sense of which direction we’ve taken.”  Fenris pushed his chin out, an indication that he was not only annoyed, but sure of himself.  “I thought I would warm us with my sarcasm, as we also have no means with which to make a fire.  Tell me again where you intend to take us? And for what purpose?”

Garrett frowned a little.  “It’s a bit late to be asking that, isn’t it?”

“Truly?”  Fenris took a sharp intake of breath, which he let out in a chillingly controlled manner.  “Have I not asked you that at several points along our journey, only for you to change the subject with, ‘Ooh, that’s a pretty flower’, or ‘get a lungful of that forest air!’  The forest air smells of dung and rotten leaves!  I do not wish to ‘get’ any more lungfuls of it than I must!”

The mage held his hands up.  “All right, I admit I was a tad evasive.  I wanted it to be a surprise, that’s all.”

Fenris sighed and tried not to show his annoyance.  “I understand that and I’m grateful for the thought, but you’ve been saying we’re ‘almost there’ for the past fifteen minutes.  Isn’t it time to admit we’re lost?”

“No it isn’t, because we’re not.”  Garrett pointed ahead.  “See?  The trees are starting to thin out.”

“And?”

“And… listen.”

“Listen to what?”

“Shh!”

Accustomed to indulging Garrett’s flights of fancy, Fenris rolled his eyes but did indeed pause to listen.  “I hear nothing,” he said after a moment.

Garrett gave a melodramatic groan.  “Oh, Fenris, you’ve no magnificence in your soul, have you?”

“My soul is too cold and lost in the forest to even think about such abstract and whimsical entities as ‘magnificence’.”

Garrett started to walk away.  “Oops!  He’s brought out the big words.  I think I’m in trouble.”

Fenris, not wanting to become even more lost (if that was possible), started jogging after Garrett.  “What was I supposed to be listening to, by the way?”

“Hm?  Hey, look at this!  A SEASHELL,” Garrett said loudly enough to wake the dead.  “Have you noticed the ground’s getting a bit flatter?  And sandier?”

“Will you do me the courtesy of giving me a straight answer for once, mage?”

“Mage!”  Garrett chuckled.  “Now I know I’m in trouble!”

“For the love of—ugh!  Will you slow down?”

By now, Garrett was way ahead of Fenris, but he stopped and frantically beckoned to the elf.  “Here!  We’re here!  Come on!”

“Where else would we be but here?”  Fenris huffed but went after his infuriatingly-bouncy lover–he had nowhere else to go, after all.  When he arrived at the mage’s side, he looked around, his brow crinkling. “We appear to be at the Coast.”

“I know!  Look over there–the sun’s about to set!”  Garrett slung an arm around the elf’s shoulders, a huge grin on his face.  “Isn’t it brilliant?”

Realising this must be Garrett’s surprise, Fenris decided he’d better muster up some enthusiasm, as much as he’d prefer to be seated around a fire with a fur draped over his shoulders.  “It’s… nice.  Thank you for bringing me here.”

“I thought you’d appreciate some privacy and quiet.  That’s why you’ve been grumpy, isn’t it?  I know Izzy and Varric have been a bit boisterous.  Uh… I know I’m boisterous, too, but I figured one was better than three.”

At this, a genuine smile graced Fenris’s face.  “You shouldn’t have gone to so much trouble.  I appreciate it, though.  No one’s ever given me the sunset before.”

Garrett placed a soft kiss on Fenris’s temple.  “I’d give you the moon if I could.  Might be a bit heavy, though.”  Garrett beamed at Fenris’s ensuing chuckle.  “I do love it when you laugh.”

Fenris looked up at the mage, snuggling against his broad chest.  “No one but you can make me laugh.  Not really.”

“It’s a gift.”  Garrett kissed Fenris again and released him.  He then began unbuckling his pauldron.

Fenris watched for a minute or two as straps, leather accoutrements and pieces of metal were cast to the ground.  “Um… what exactly are you doing?”

Garrett did a double take at the elf before pulling his tunic over his head. “We’re going skinny dipping!  Why else d’you think I brought you here?”

“Skinny dipping?  What’s that?  And why are you…”  Fenris gulped as Garrett unbuckled his belt and, in one movement, pulled it off and threw it down.  “Why are you…”  Fenris’s mouth gaped open, his tongue dry and sticky.

Garrett’s boots were kicked off and he slid his hands down his hips, taking his trousers with them.  “I’m afraid this is the only moon I can give you for now.”  The trousers fell and the curve of muscular buttocks was silhouetted against the setting sun.  “Prepare yourself!”  Garrett warned.  “I’m about to unleash… The Beast!  Behold!”  He spun around, giving Fenris a full view of his meat and two veg.

The elf immediately sprang forward to preserve his lover’s modesty.  “There are bandits and Tal-Vashoth in these parts!  What do you mean by exposing yourself in this fashion?”

“I already told you!  We’re going sk—ohhh.  You’ve never been skinny dipping before, have you?”

“Of course I have,” the elf protested.  “Danarius regularly held skinny dunking tournaments—”

“Dipping, not dunking.”

“Oh.  Skinny dipping tournaments at his estate in Minrathous.”

Garrett crossed his arms.  “You don’t know what skinny dipping is, do you?”

“No.”

Garrett nodded, biting down a smile.  “Well, usual procedure is to get naked.  That’s the ‘skinny’ part.  You know, skin?”

“Skin.  Of course.”  Feeling a little foolish, Fenris looked over his shoulders.  “As I was saying, we are likely not alone here.  You know my feelings about disrobing in public.”

“Look, I told you I was drunk that night, and Varric egged me on.  He wanted to check the statue of me at the docks was in proportion.”

“Only, the statue at the docks doesn’t have its wedding tackle out.”

Garrett shrugged.  “Not my fault if the sculptor was a prude.  I did offer to model for her.”

“Of course you did.”

Garrett bent down to pick up his staff.  “If you’re worried about the Tal-Vashoth screaming in terror at the sight of your willy, I have the perfect solution.”  He raised the staff to the heavens, directing a buzzing blue arc of electricity at the clouds over the forest and hills.  Then he dropped his staff and raised an arm above his head with a flourish, providing him and Fenris with a barrier against the rain that suddenly started falling in sheets.  “There.  No one’s going to see us in this rain.”

“Well, when you put it that way, I suppose I have little choice.”  

“I suppose you don’t.  Now get those clothes off.”

With a long-suffering sigh, the elf started the laborious process of removing his armour.  “And the purpose of skinny dipping is… what, sex?”

Garrett spluttered a laugh.  “Well, sometimes, but not always!  It’s just… fun, you know?”  He grinned at the elf’s blank expression.  “Oh, I forgot… you’ve never had fun before either, have you?”

Fenris pulled his leggings down and stepped out of them before holding them out to one side.  “Are you saying I’m…” He let the leggings drop, “… dull?”

Garrett noisily cleared his throat and exhaled.  “You’re as dull as dishwater my darling, but by the Maker, you’re naked!” He lunged at Fenris and scooped him up, roaring with laughter as he carried the wriggling elf towards the shore.

“Unhand me, you unconscionable oaf!”

Garrett winced.  “Ouch!  That was a really big word!  Well, if I’m in trouble, I may as well make it worthwhile!” He ran the last few steps to the water’s edge and powered into the ocean, waiting until he was thigh-deep before hurling Fenris forward, shielding himself from the impressively large splash the elf created.

A few seconds later, Fenris surfaced looking like a furious drowned rat.  “Now I’m all wet, you swine!”

“Well, that’s the point, isn’t it?” Garrett dashed the water out of his eyes and scanned the water’s surface.  “Love?  Where are you?”  He turned full circle, his eyes darting here and there, but the elf was nowhere to be seen.  “Fenris?  I’m sorry?  Love?”

At the same moment there was a swell of water behind Garrett and, like a majestic elven marine god, Fenris surged out of the water and latched himself onto the mage’s back, sending him off-balance.  

“Oh, no!  I’m going to…” At the last second, Garrett bent at the waist and threw Fenris over his shoulders.  Both of them crashed into the water, but only one of them was laughing when he surfaced.

“Bastard!” Fenris hissed, charging through the water towards the mage, not knowing what he was actually going to do to the man who stood almost a foot taller than him. Stopping in front of Garrett, he opted for a hard chest shove to save face.  “I’m bloody frozen!”

“Hey, don’t worry!  Our clothes are over there and… and…” Garrett’s face fell.  “Oh, shit.”

“They’re in the rain.”  A few tiny wrinkles formed on the bridge of Fenris’s nose.  “Of course they are.”

“This isn’t exactly going to plan,” Garrett said good-naturedly, rubbing the nape of his neck and grimacing.  “It was supposed to be fun, but you look like you want to murder me.”  He cringed a little.  “I’m sorry.  I just wanted to get you away from everyone.  You look adorable, by the way.”  He slicked Fenris’s sopping-wet hair away from his eyes.  

Fenris’s nose wrinkles receded slightly, but his frown remained in place.  “I… I know what you were trying to do.”  He sighed.  “Perhaps you’re right. I don’t know how to have fun.”  He looked away from Garrett, his frown deepening as he looked beyond the mage’s barrier to the surface of the water, which was being lashed with rain.

“Fen?”  Garrett moved closer to him.  “Are you all right?”

“The water… it’s… dancing.”

Garrett looked on in delight at the elf’s awed expression.  “You like it?”

The elf slowly nodded, his eyes moving to the horizon as the sun went down in a blaze of red and gold glory.  “It’s like a lake of molten lava. It’s… wonderful.  I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“This was entirely planned, you know,” Garrett said from behind the elf, his insides glowing when he saw the tiny vibration of Fenris’s shoulders.

“Of course it was.”  The silent vibration grew to a quiet snigger and he let his head fall back against Garrett’s chest as a pair of large, hairy arms wrapped around him.  “I believe you, even if no one else would.”

“And that is why I love you.”  Garrett pressed a kiss to the crown of Fenris’s head and gently turned him around so they were facing each other.  “And the reason you love me is because I give you such amazing memories.  We’ll look back at tonight and you’ll say, ‘Oh yes, the night we saw fire dancing on the water, walked naked back to camp and caught hypothermia.  Good times.”

Fenris bowed his head, laughter wheezing out of him.  “If it were anyone else but you…”

“Now, come on, love.  There is no one else like me.”

Fenris rolled his eyes, but he was still laughing.  “Isn’t that the truth.  What are we going to do about the clothing situation?”

Garrett looked into Fenris’s eyes, the dying sun reflected against emerald glass.  “You know, at this moment I don’t really care.  Maker, you’re beautiful.”

They kissed, the fiery rain pattering against Garrett’s barrier.

[lisakodysam]

An Evening Skinny-Dipping at the Wounded Coast

A bit late, but here’s a little ficlet to accompany xiz0r’s ‘Underwater’ drawing for the Inktober prompt:

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ “Come on, it’s not far.” Garrett tightened his grip around Fenris’s arm, assisting the elf to step over large roots and the organic debris that littered the forest floor.  “We’re almost there.”

“Are you certain you know the way back to camp?”

Garrett shrugged, his mouth twisting into a smirk.  “Probab—”

“Probably?  That is unusually decisive for you.”

Garrett drew to a halt and turned to Fenris, who’d dug both thumbs into his belt, his lyrium-marked arms like moonlit wings as they bent at his sides.  “Sarcasm does not become you, dear,” he said to the elf.

“Oh, but it does.  After all, we’re half a mile out of camp with no clear sense of which direction we’ve taken.”  Fenris pushed his chin out, an indication that he was not only annoyed, but sure of himself.  “I thought I would warm us with my sarcasm, as we also have no means with which to make a fire.  Tell me again where you intend to take us? And for what purpose?”

Garrett frowned a little.  “It’s a bit late to be asking that, isn’t it?”

“Truly?”  Fenris took a sharp intake of breath, which he let out in a chillingly controlled manner.  “Have I not asked you that at several points along our journey, only for you to change the subject with, ‘Ooh, that’s a pretty flower’, or ‘get a lungful of that forest air!’  The forest air smells of dung and rotten leaves!  I do not wish to ‘get’ any more lungfuls of it than I must!”

The mage held his hands up.  “All right, I admit I was a tad evasive.  I wanted it to be a surprise, that’s all.”

Fenris sighed and tried not to show his annoyance.  “I understand that and I’m grateful for the thought, but you’ve been saying we’re ‘almost there’ for the past fifteen minutes.  Isn’t it time to admit we’re lost?”

“No it isn’t, because we’re not.”  Garrett pointed ahead.  “See?  The trees are starting to thin out.”

“And?”

“And… listen.”

“Listen to what?”

“Shh!”

Accustomed to indulging Garrett’s flights of fancy, Fenris rolled his eyes but did indeed pause to listen.  “I hear nothing,” he said after a moment.

Garrett gave a melodramatic groan.  “Oh, Fenris, you’ve no magnificence in your soul, have you?”

“My soul is too cold and lost in the forest to even think about such abstract and whimsical entities as ‘magnificence’.”

Garrett started to walk away.  “Oops!  He’s brought out the big words.  I think I’m in trouble.”

Fenris, not wanting to become even more lost (if that was possible), started jogging after Garrett.  “What was I supposed to be listening to, by the way?”

“Hm?  Hey, look at this!  A SEASHELL,” Garrett said loudly enough to wake the dead.  “Have you noticed the ground’s getting a bit flatter?  And sandier?”

“Will you do me the courtesy of giving me a straight answer for once, mage?”

“Mage!”  Garrett chuckled.  “Now I know I’m in trouble!”

“For the love of—ugh!  Will you slow down?”

By now, Garrett was way ahead of Fenris, but he stopped and frantically beckoned to the elf.  “Here!  We’re here!  Come on!”

“Where else would we be but here?”  Fenris huffed but went after his infuriatingly-bouncy lover--he had nowhere else to go, after all.  When he arrived at the mage’s side, he looked around, his brow crinkling.  “We appear to be at the Coast.”

“I know!  Look over there--the sun’s about to set!”  Garrett slung an arm around the elf’s shoulders, a huge grin on his face.  “Isn’t it brilliant?”

Realising this must be Garrett’s surprise, Fenris decided he’d better muster up some enthusiasm, as much as he’d prefer to be seated around a fire with a fur draped over his shoulders.  “It’s… nice.  Thank you for bringing me here.”

“I thought you’d appreciate some privacy and quiet.  That’s why you’ve been grumpy, isn’t it?  I know Izzy and Varric have been a bit boisterous.  Uh… I know I’m boisterous, too, but I figured one was better than three.”

At this, a genuine smile graced Fenris’s face.  “You shouldn’t have gone to so much trouble.  I appreciate it, though.  No one’s ever given me the sunset before.”

Garrett placed a soft kiss on Fenris’s temple.  “I’d give you the moon if I could.  Might be a bit heavy, though.”  Garrett beamed at Fenris’s ensuing chuckle.  “I do love it when you laugh.”

Fenris looked up at the mage, snuggling against his broad chest.  “No one but you can make me laugh.  Not really.”

“It’s a gift.”  Garrett kissed Fenris again and released him.  He then began unbuckling his pauldron.

Fenris watched for a minute or two as straps, leather accoutrements and pieces of metal were cast to the ground.  “Um… what exactly are you doing?”

Garrett did a double take at the elf before pulling his tunic over his head.  “We’re going skinny dipping!  Why else d’you think I brought you here?”

“Skinny dipping?  What’s that?  And why are you…”  Fenris gulped as Garrett unbuckled his belt and, in one movement, pulled it off and threw it down.  “Why are you…”  Fenris’s mouth gaped open, his tongue dry and sticky.

Garrett’s boots were kicked off and he slid his hands down his hips, taking his trousers with them.  “I’m afraid this is the only moon I can give you for now.”  The trousers fell and the curve of muscular buttocks was silhouetted against the setting sun.  “Prepare yourself!”  Garrett warned.  “I’m about to unleash… The Beast!  Behold!”  He spun around, giving Fenris a full view of his meat and two veg.

The elf immediately sprang forward to preserve his lover’s modesty.  “There are bandits and Tal-Vashoth in these parts!  What do you mean by exposing yourself in this fashion?”

“I already told you!  We’re going sk—ohhh.  You’ve never been skinny dipping before, have you?”

“Of course I have,” the elf protested.  “Danarius regularly held skinny dunking tournaments—”

“Dipping, not dunking.”

“Oh.  Skinny dipping tournaments at his estate in Minrathous.”

Garrett crossed his arms.  “You don’t know what skinny dipping is, do you?”

“No.”

Garrett nodded, biting down a smile.  “Well, usual procedure is to get naked.  That’s the ‘skinny’ part.  You know, skin?”

“Skin.  Of course.”  Feeling a little foolish, Fenris looked over his shoulders.  “As I was saying, we are likely not alone here.  You know my feelings about disrobing in public.”

“Look, I told you I was drunk that night, and Varric egged me on.  He wanted to check the statue of me at the docks was in proportion.”

“Only, the statue at the docks doesn’t have its wedding tackle out.”

Garrett shrugged.  “Not my fault if the sculptor was a prude.  I did offer to model for her.”

“Of course you did.”

Garrett bent down to pick up his staff.  “If you’re worried about the Tal-Vashoth screaming in terror at the sight of your willy, I have the perfect solution.”  He raised the staff to the heavens, directing a buzzing blue arc of electricity at the clouds over the forest and hills.  Then he dropped his staff and raised an arm above his head with a flourish, providing him and Fenris with a barrier against the rain that suddenly started falling in sheets.  “There.  No one’s going to see us in this rain.”

“Well, when you put it that way, I suppose I have little choice.”  

“I suppose you don’t.  Now get those clothes off.”

With a long-suffering sigh, the elf started the laborious process of removing his armour.  “And the purpose of skinny dipping is… what, sex?”

Garrett spluttered a laugh.  “Well, sometimes, but not always!  It’s just… fun, you know?”  He grinned at the elf’s blank expression.  “Oh, I forgot… you’ve never had fun before either, have you?”

Fenris pulled his leggings down and stepped out of them before holding them out to one side.  “Are you saying I’m…” He let the leggings drop, “... dull?”

Garrett noisily cleared his throat and exhaled.  “You’re as dull as dishwater my darling, but by the Maker, you’re naked!” He lunged at Fenris and scooped him up, roaring with laughter as he carried the wriggling elf towards the shore.

“Unhand me, you unconscionable oaf!”

Garrett winced.  “Ouch!  That was a really big word!  Well, if I’m in trouble, I may as well make it worthwhile!”  He ran the last few steps to the water’s edge and powered into the ocean, waiting until he was thigh-deep before hurling Fenris forward, shielding himself from the impressively large splash the elf created.

A few seconds later, Fenris surfaced looking like a furious drowned rat.  “Now I’m all wet, you swine!”

“Well, that’s the point, isn’t it?” Garrett dashed the water out of his eyes and scanned the water’s surface.  “Love?  Where are you?”  He turned full circle, his eyes darting here and there, but the elf was nowhere to be seen.  “Fenris?  I’m sorry?  Love?”

At the same moment there was a swell of water behind Garrett and, like a majestic elven marine god, Fenris surged out of the water and latched himself onto the mage’s back, sending him off-balance.  

“Oh, no!  I’m going to…” At the last second, Garrett bent at the waist and threw Fenris over his shoulders.  Both of them crashed into the water, but only one of them was laughing when he surfaced.

“Bastard!” Fenris hissed, charging through the water towards the mage, not knowing what he was actually going to do to the man who stood almost a foot taller than him.  Stopping in front of Garrett, he opted for a hard chest shove to save face.  “I’m bloody frozen!”

“Hey, don’t worry!  Our clothes are over there and… and…” Garrett’s face fell.  “Oh, shit.”

“They’re in the rain.”  A few tiny wrinkles formed on the bridge of Fenris’s nose.  “Of course they are.”

“This isn’t exactly going to plan,” Garrett said good-naturedly, rubbing the nape of his neck and grimacing.  “It was supposed to be fun, but you look like you want to murder me.”  He cringed a little.  “I’m sorry.  I just wanted to get you away from everyone.  You look adorable, by the way.”  He slicked Fenris’s sopping-wet hair away from his eyes.  

Fenris’s nose wrinkles receded slightly, but his frown remained in place.  “I… I know what you were trying to do.”  He sighed.  “Perhaps you’re right.  I don’t know how to have fun.”  He looked away from Garrett, his frown deepening as he looked beyond the mage’s barrier to the surface of the water, which was being lashed with rain.

“Fen?”  Garrett moved closer to him.  “Are you all right?”

“The water… it’s… dancing.”

Garrett looked on in delight at the elf’s awed expression.  “You like it?”

The elf slowly nodded, his eyes moving to the horizon as the sun went down in a blaze of red and gold glory.  “It’s like a lake of molten lava.  It’s… wonderful.  I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“This was entirely planned, you know,” Garrett said from behind the elf, his insides glowing when he saw the tiny vibration of Fenris’s shoulders.

“Of course it was.”  The silent vibration grew to a quiet snigger and he let his head fall back against Garrett’s chest as a pair of large, hairy arms wrapped around him.  “I believe you, even if no one else would.”

“And that is why I love you.”  Garrett pressed a kiss to the crown of Fenris’s head and gently turned him around so they were facing each other.  “And the reason you love me is because I give you such amazing memories.  We’ll look back at tonight and you’ll say, ‘Oh yes, the night we saw fire dancing on the water, walked naked back to camp and caught hypothermia.  Good times.”

Fenris bowed his head, laughter wheezing out of him.  “If it were anyone else but you…”

“Now, come on, love.  There is no one else like me.”

Fenris rolled his eyes, but he was still laughing.  “Isn’t that the truth.  What are we going to do about the clothing situation?”

Garrett looked into Fenris’s eyes, the dying sun reflected against emerald glass.  “You know, at this moment I don’t really care.  Maker, you’re beautiful.”

They kissed, the fiery rain pattering against Garrett’s barrier.