Griffins and Chantry Miceby *asheraa
Title: What A View
For Tuesday Promptfest on LJ
Could be considered nsfw-ish I guess...
It was mid afternoon on a particularly hot Kirkwall day when Hawk rounded the bend of a trail off the wounded coast. Humming to herself, she ducked down a well hidden game trail and entered a small grove near the edge of a cliff. Below was a small pond of ice cold, crystal clear water, little more than a rock pool. What interested Hawk though, was the miniature waterfall above it. Water from a spring filtered through the sandy soil and emerged just below the lip of the cliff that jutted out over the pool. It was the coolest, cleanest water you could find in a dozen square miles. Just the thing for a band of thirsty do gooders out on yet another quest to save the known world from certain destruction, or in this case a lack of herbs.
While hawk waited for the rest of her party to catch up, she took off her boots and sat on the ledge. She lay back on the rocky ground and dangled her feet over the side, letting the water from the spring trickle over her calves and the heels of her bare feet. She closed her eyes, enjoying the warmth of her face and the cool water on her feet until she started to doze off.
It took her a few minutes to realize that she was being lulled to sleep by an achingly beautiful male voice that was softly singing the Chant somewhere in the small cove below her. She quietly lifted her legs up from the edge of the cliff and swung around until she was laying with her head and chest dangling over the edge, craning her neck to see who that hypnotic voice belonged to.
Carefully she shuffled over until she had a good view of the pond below, past the scraggly brush
that was growing out of the side of the cliff face. It wasn't a long drop to the ground below, only about 40ft, but if she fell and missed the pond, she would land on jagged rocks that had fallen from the ledge
that she was currently dangling over.
Bracing a shoulder on the trunk of a particularly stocky shrub, she leaned out a little further, and nearly lost her balance from shock when she finally saw the body that went with that voice. She stuck a leg out behind her for balance and lay there speechless.
The beautiful deep melody halted momentarily as the singer ducked under the water and swam a few
leisurely laps of the small pond, long muscular arms making short work of the task. Hawk's mouth dropped open as she watched the play of sunlight and water over lean muscle.
A soft thud next to her alerted Hawk to the arrival of one of her companions, and someone grabbed her hip pulling her balance back to the safe side of the ledge.
"Makers blue balls Hawk, what are you doooo..." Isabela griped followed by a reverent whisper, "Andraste's frozen nipple clamps, that is a goooorgeous view!" The pirate sighed and slid down onto the ground next to Hawk so she too could get a better look at the living work of art that was splashing around below.
Said work of art was now standing up in the pool, once again singing quietly. Short cropped strawberry blond hair sprayed a rainbow of water droplets as it shook back and forth. Fine chiseled cheeks and full lips graced a lightly bronzed face that was tipped back to bask in the afternoon sun. A sliver of pink slipped between those lips to catch a droplet of water.
"Aaaabout those holy nipple clamps... Is that...?" whispered Isabela quietly in an uncharacteristic display of forethought.
"Oh yes, it's him... and yes they are pierced..." muttered Hawk with an audible gulp. "Who'd have thought it."
"Issy, where are you? Did you find Hawk? What are you two doing?"
"Shhhhh!" Both women whispered in unison, not looking up. Isabela waved Merril over absentmindedly with the hand that wasn't holding Hawk back from falling off the edge.
"Ooh is this a game?" Whispered Merril sliding in next to the other women on the ledge. "what are you doing, did I miss something... ooooh isn't he preeetty..."
In the pond below, large strong hands were sliding down the back of the blond head, forcing water to run in rivulets down a long corded neck, across broad well muscled shoulders, and down a lightly tanned back that was so well defined with muscle that it could have been sculpted by some Orlesian
A fourth body shuffled up beside the three women. A crossbow nosed out over the edge of the cliff.
"What's going on ladies? Are we about to launch a daring attack on another band of Qunari? A pack of slavers perhaps?"
Varric looked at Hawk over Merril's shoulder and poked her arm when she didn't reply. Hawk's response was to gently reach across and turn Varric's head to face the scene below.
"And I thought the sight of three shapely asses sticking up in the air was quite the view!" chuckled the dwarf under his breath. "Makers cross dressing uncle, is that...?"
"uh huh" Was the soft chorus of replies.
Eventually the man below dried off and donned his armor once more, Sword strapped to back, skirts and armor neatly and firmly in place. A wistful look crossed his handsome face before he turned and strode off towards the trail back to Kirkwall.
After he was safely out of earshot, Varric and Isabella leaped to their feet, chattering excitedly.
"So Rivaini, Friend Fiction?"
"Of Course! Title?"
"Oh it has to be something catchy, something that really grabs the eye!"
"Sunkissed in Kirkwall?" The pirate shook her head.
"Worked Up on the Wounded Coast?" Varric laughed shaking his head as well.
"Gold in the Gallows? Oh how about The Pierced Priest?" added Merril.
"You better watch out Rivaini, Daisy here is starting to give you a run for your money!" laughed Varric
"I was thinking Tasty Templars!" Chimed in Hawk, chuckling uncontrollably.
Laughing they headed back to the Hanged man, quest to find herbs forgotten. They would give Sol what they had and pick up the rest later on. Sometimes there were simply more important things to do.
Besides, thought Hawk, she would need a good stiff drink before she would be able to venture into the gallows without seeing those little golden rings and water drenched muscles in the back of her mind. Or maybe a LOT of drinks...
As always, Bioware owns all, I just play with it in strange and disturbing ways.
Prompt/title: Tea and Biscuits
Word count: 668
The Knight Captain hated Tea and Biscuits. Especially the Orlesian kind of biscuits with the frosting and jam. So cloying and sweet. They made his teeth hurt just thinking about them. Stupid name for it as well. Tea and Biscuits. Afternoon Tea. He didn't even drink tea. Maker take it, he was a Ferelden after all, not Orlesian. He was a practical man.
Day after day he choked them down listening to the Knight Commander worry and moan about how the mages were all turning to blood magic. How the Templars were being too soft. How they must remain vigilant.
The Knight Captain hated Tea and Biscuits. At least if he got to her office early enough in the afternoon he could salvage the beverage and have coffee instead. He would make it himself, unsweetened to counter the cloying confections that went with it.
Day after day at 3 bells precisely he would have to sit there nodding and taking useless notes as the Knight Commander plotted and planned. Plotted to keep 'the solution' quiet. Planned to promote Alrik because of his exemplary service. Demanded that Cullen remain silent about her plots and plans.
All the while the Knight Captain remembered the beauty that could come from magic, the innocence as well as the evil. He remembered who he wanted to be all those years ago. Remembered another Amell here in Kirkwall who was fighting for safety and freedom from the other side of the chantry.
The Knight Captain hated Tea and Biscuits. He hated how even the blighted food stank of lyruim in the Commanders office of late. He hated how he had taken to eating even more of the Maker damned sweets to make it easier to vomit up the extra lyrium the Commander would insist he take before leaving her office.
Day after day he would grip the edge of his seat and bite his tongue until it bled for fear of being accused of insubordination if he disagreed with her decrees. He would silently recite the good deeds of the five apostates who had done so much good for those around him. Amell, Hawk, Anders, Bethany, Merril. He would hold the names close like a jealously guarded possession. They were his life line, his link to sanity in this prison of lyrium addled insanity. Those names he could hold because contemplating the sheer numbers of the dead and tranquil at his hands would have driven him mad in an instant.
The Knight Captain hated Tea and Biscuits. Fortunately today, he realised, he would never have to endure them again. He watched impassively as the chantry blazed and sent hot ash like pinpricks against his cheeks.
For the first time he stood up to Meredith. For the first time he saw a group of mages running amok and did nothing to stop them.
As he watched the last molten light go out in Meredith's eyes he allowed himself the luxury of a small smile. He may be damned for what he had allowed to day, but how many would be saved by it?
After Hawk and her band of revolutionaries had left and all hell broke loose in the city, the Knight Captain was nowhere to be found.
Cullen, the friend of the Hero of Ferelden, the mage lover, the insubordinate wretch, and the man who would never again feel guilty for being who he truly was, was whistling tunelessly while walking through the woods outside the burning city of chains.
As he walked into the camp of bloodied, weary and frightened people he had come to think of as friends he smiled. When the warriors drew their swords he smiled again and took the lid off the crate of supplies he was carrying. He was smiling a lot more lately.
"Hawk, my sword is yours." was all he said as he handed out the food and drinks.The Knight Captain, he thought, may have hated Tea and Biscuits, but Cullen loved Ale and Crackers.
*Edit: Huh, just fixed a couple of nasty typos lol. Now says "Commander where it's meant to and "Captain" where it's meant to. Bit of a difference that O.o