Jul 162015
 

[ Master Post ]
Title: Rhapsody In Ass Major – Chapter 130
Co-Conspirator: TumblrMaverikLoki
Fandom: Dragon Age
Characters: Artemis Hawke , Fenris , Theron Mahariel , Kallian Tabris , Cormac Hawke , Anders
Rating: M (L2 N3 S2 V0 D0)
Warnings: Background het, Hawkewardness
Notes: The aftermath of too much elven c…ulture.


"So," Kalli panted, sprawled across the floor, hours later. "Glowing. Okay. I like glowing."

Theron lay beside her, draped heavily across Artemis, as he sucked Fenris’s fingers clean. "Not kidding about the earthquakes," he mumbled, dazedly, around the fingers pressed against his tongue. "Definitely worth all the years I spent looking for you." He flicked his tongue between Fenris’s fingers and got a choked groan.

"I have never felt this good about pain," Fenris choked out, amusedly, considering the ache in his muscles, the burn along his tattoos, and the rug-burn on a variety of body parts. "I think the rug may be a loss, however. Do you think your brother’s laundress would know what to do with it?"

"Knowing my brother, I suspect his laundress has had to clean similar messes," Artemis said, too fucked stupid and sore in places he forgot he had to mind the mess too much. "If not, we’ll get a new one. One more stain-resistant." He wondered what Anders would say about healing the rug burn on his ass. Probably nothing, at this point. Artie stretched his legs and spread his toes, trying to ease a cramp in his thigh. Theron shifted, moulding against him like jelly. "Tell Cormac to put ‘Death by Elves’ on my memorial."

Fenris hummed, petting Theron’s tongue with the fingers still in his mouth. "And I’ll tell Anton not to pee on it."

Kalli’s face scrunched at that, and Fenris laughed tiredly. "Don’t ask," he rumbled. "Anton is one of the saner Hawkes."

Theron finally pulled his mouth off of Fenris’s fingers, resting his cheek on Artemis’s shoulder. "I think I prefer the crazier ones."

"If you did, that would be Cormac under you, not Artemis," Fenris pointed out. "Possibly Bethany."

"Is Cormac really that crazed? He just seemed a little… intense. Scholarly. Good humoured and a little loud, maybe, but not that crazy." Theron murmured against Artemis’s spine.

"You haven’t spent much time with him, recently. He’s quite mad." Fenris chuckled at the ceiling. "We were in a rather delicate situation, involving demons and worse, and rather than harming a possessed companion, he decided a better option was to have sex with a Fade spirit. In the Deep Roads. While his beard was still smouldering. Something I bore unfortunate witness to, as with so many other mad acts by mages. Comparatively, Artemis is far less distressing."

"I’m sorry, I thought you said ‘sex with a Fade spirit’. That’s… That shouldn’t be possible. I don’t know that much about the Fade, but the stories tell us spirits are rare, and they don’t…" Theron still didn’t lift his head. It was much too heavy. He did mumble some barely-coherent, affectionate-sounding words against Artemis’s skin, though.

"I thought so very many things were impossible, until I met the Hawkes." Fenris lifted his hand to rub his face, but it just dropped back to the floor, before he got there. "Earthquakes? I think earthquakes are an excellent example."

"Heart-fondling," Artemis countered, words half spoken into the rug. "You’re one to talk." From where he was lying, the only thing impossible was the thought of getting up. "We have a bed," he mumbled. "Why didn’t we do this in the bed?"

"Because the drinks were here?" answered Theron, nuzzling at sweaty skin.

Artemis hummed, the sound rumbling in his chest and echoing in Theron’s. "We should move there," he said. But his eyes slipped closed, and he made no move to get up. Later. But hopefully before Orana found them.

"I would if I could feel my legs," Fenris replied.


Hours later, a messenger arrived at the Hawke estate, with a folded page addressed to Cormac. Opening it, Cormac found only the words ‘get Anders’, in his brother’s precise script. Of course, Anders was still averse to receiving messages directly — still had a bit of a chest-clenching terror of anyone really knowing where he lived — so Cormac often ended up with his mail. This, though…

He went down through the cellar, to find Anders in his clinic, mostly empty, this early. "It’s my brother," he said, holding up the note. "And I don’t know."

Anders didn’t even ask. "Family needs me, Sheila," he said to the woman pulling a splinter out of an elven boy’s knee, grabbing his coat and throwing a handful of things into his pouches and pockets. "If anything serious happens… Let’s just assume nothing serious is going to happen. I should be back in a couple of hours."

"Nothing I can’t handle, until you get back," Sheila assured him.

"She’s been rolling your bandages, this week?" Cormac asked, on their way out.

Anders nodded. "It amazes me that so many people still come down to help, after all these years. I could still use another mage, though. Too many long nights, but the healers aren’t runners, most of the time, so it’s just me."

"Can’t win every time. Just most of them." Cormac grinned, bumping his face affectionately against Anders’s shoulder, like one of the cats.

Soon, they arrived at Fenris and Artie’s, and Orana let them in.

"The messeres…" she said, obviously trying not to laugh. "They are in the lounge. Without pants."

Cormac whooped in amusement, clapping a hand over his mouth. "Andraste’s flaming knickers, what have they done, this time?"

"It would not be my place to say," Orana said, slyly, with a knowing look at Cormac.

Well. At least Anders knew now that it wasn’t anything serious. "Somehow, I don’t think this has to do with Artie waxing the floors, this time," he said, trying to rein in a smirk as he headed for the lounge. He paused in the doorway, eyebrows shooting up. "I see. It looks like it’s less a matter of what they did and more a matter of whom." Laughter shook his shoulders as he cut a glance to Cormac.

Artemis groaned from the floor, still tangled with the elven lump of noodles that called itself Theron. Sprawled next to him, Fenris spared Anders a weak glare while Kalli continued to sleep beside him.

"Did we have a party last night?" Anders asked, stepping into the room. The furniture was at odd angles, as though it had been pushed aside. Or jostled. "And without inviting me?" His fingers glowed blue as he crouched next to Artie.

"Too much… elf… culture." Artemis made a face, spitting out a bit of lint from the rug.

"Clearly…" Cormac squinted at the heap of elf atop his brother. "Theron? I guess you decided to come down and see us, hmm? Decided to get the earthquakes out of the way, first? And how many earthquakes did you have to start, to get a mess like this?"

"Vir nadas. Tel’abelas," Theron muttered, still half-asleep.

"Good. If you were sorry, I’d take you out back and kick your ass." Cormac laughed. "Is that your wife, too? You managed to get my brother out of his pants in the same room with a naked woman?"

"The naked woman never touched your brother," Fenris clarified, "however tempted she might have been, as the evening went on. She seemed much more interested in what I could do, than what he could do, after a few demonstrations." He glowed, briefly, and then sputtered out.

Anders had to wrestle down his own glowiness at that spark of blue. Not now, Justice. It is still not the time to be licking the elf. "Really? Wow." Anders turned his healing on Theron, who groaned appreciatively, somehow sinking into even more of a puddle. "Here I thought that was just an Artie thing."

"I didn’t try it," Theron felt the need to point out, finally peeling himself from Artemis’s back. "There are some places fingers should not go." He hissed as he straightened, rolling his shoulders.

"Your loss," Artemis hummed. He sighed in relief as the ache left his muscles but only sank deeper into the carpet, eyes sliding closed.

"Speaking of loss," Anders said, turning his healing on Fenris and the amusing patches of rug burn that marked his skin, "might I suggest keeping a few healing potions handy the next time you decide to engage in such… vigorous activities."

"Or we could just invite the healer," Artemis suggested, grinning but keeping his eyes closed.

"Looking at you, I’m not sure you’d have survived the healer…" Cormac snorted into his hand, trying not to cackle like a loon. It might be impolite.

"Oh, ye of little faith," Anders scoffed. "Did you forget who put his intestines back in? He’d live. He’d definitely live long enough to kick my ass."

"Kick you in the culture, you mean," Cormac joked, trying to keep his eyes from tracing the line of Artie’s spine, under Theron.

"That an appreciation of elven culture I’m seeing from you, Cormac?" Anders teased, knowing exactly where Cormac was actually looking.

Cormac elbowed Anders like he might have nudged one of his brothers. "You git. You know I keep my appreciation above the waistline, when it comes to elves. All the same, looking good, Theron. You look like you could twist my brother into a pretzel, which I’m sure he’d appreciate."

Fenris’s eyes lit on Cormac, warningly. Cormac just winked.

Theron finally managed to sit up, looking around for his clothes. "I take it his habit of appreciating elven culture in inappropriate places is still going strong, then?"

"You have no idea," Cormac said, chuckling up at the corner of the wall, to keep his eyes off Artie.

"There is no inappropriate place to appreciate elven culture," Artemis insisted through a yawn. He flopped his hand in a generally pantsward direction. "Cormac, be a good brother and fetch me my pants? I think Orana has seen enough ‘culture’ for the day."

"Mm, pants are optional," Fenris said. "Especially for you." He reached over to give Artie’s rump an appreciative pat and then just let his hand flop there.

"Careful, now, I only just healed that." Anders toed a piece of fabric out from under the couch. "These yours, Fenris?" he asked, considering the lacy panties.

"They’re not my colour." Fenris picked up the panties and threw them at Theron. They landed on his head.

"Ah! There they are!" Theron exclaimed through the fabric as it slid down his face. He caught the panties before they could fall to the floor and pulled them on.

On the floor, Kalli finally stirred, throwing an arm over Fenris and curling close against him. Fenris pointedly cleared his throat, and she opened her eyes, spotting the pair of shem in the doorway. "Oh. Hello."

Anders wiggled his fingers. "Healing? While I’m standing here…"

"I assume you already got rug-burn and the rag pile over there." Kalli waved in the general direction of Theron and Artemis.

"My brother was the first thing he got his glowy hands on. Promise." Cormac continued to look at anything that wasn’t the four bodies on the floor, because he knew where his eyes would end up, if he looked down.

"Your brother makes some very interesting sounds," Kalli noted, untangling herself from Fenris. "Maybe I should take that healing."

"You made it through the earthquakes, and all you’ve got to say is that he makes interesting sounds?" Cormac laughed.

Anders lifted a hand in Kalli’s direction, and a faint green glow picked up around her. "I still think Cormac wins for ‘interesting sounds’."

"No, Cormac wins for loud sounds," Fenris grumbled, tying his shirt around his waist as he continued the search for his pants. "There’s a difference. Cormac’s sounds are rarely all that interesting."

"I beg to differ," Anders purred, eyes catching Fenris’s.

"What I mean to say, of course, is that Artemis sounds adorable when he’s getting hammered through the floor. So cute I thought my teeth might rot out," Kalli clarified, getting up and leaning over the couch to see how many articles of clothing could be found.

"‘Cute’. Lovely." Artemis sighed, folding his arms and propping his chin on top of them. He glowered up at Cormac, who made no move to fetch his pants. "Fenris, care to hand me my trousers?" he asked, turning to his fiancé. "My brother seems more intent on watching the ceiling." Artie could guess why, and he didn’t bother to hide the smug look on his face. Said trousers landed on his face a moment later. "Thank you."

"Is that how he hands people things?" Theron asked, knotting the laces for his own pants, lacy panties disappearing from sight. "Just throws them at their heads? It’s a good thing I didn’t ask him to pass the salt at dinner."

"Would you like me to pass you your boots?" Fenris asked with a threatening smile.

"I don’t wear boots."

The boots landed on Artie’s head instead.

Within a few minutes, everyone was dressed or as dressed as they were going to be. Fenris still had his shirt around his waist, and Artemis couldn’t find his smalls. From the smug look on her face, he suspected Kalli was wearing them.