[ Master Post ]
Title: Rhapsody in Ass Major – Chapter 205
Fandom: Dragon Age
Characters: Cormac Hawke ♂, Artemis Hawke ♂, Anton Hawke ♂, Bethany Hawke ♀, Anders ♂, Cullen ♂, Fenris ♂, Isabela ♀, Varric ♂, Jethann ♂, Theron Mahariel ♂, Kallian Tabris ♀
Rating: M (L3 N3 S3 V0 D1)
Warnings: Put your pants on Anton!, Hawke-on-Hawke action, dick jokes, wagers in poor taste
Notes: A good time was had by many, and not necessarily with the people they’d arrived with.
Cormac leaned against the barrier, with one hand, resting his chin on Artie’s shoulder. The other hand teased Artie’s knob. "You should have taken my advice. This would have been easier in robes," he pointed out, with another solid thrust. "Look at all of them out there, watching Jethann. Do you think they know? Do you think they know he’s going to slip away and have his way with you? Imagine the scandal. You, a nobleman, due to wed in the morning, caught getting ravished by an elven prostitute." He cupped his hand between Artie’s legs and squeezed gently. "Or imagine the scandal right now. They’d all blame me, you know, for corrupting you. They’d think I forced you. Can you imagine trying to explain that?" He chuckled at the thought, forcing back the absolute terror he had of exactly that. The runes were solid, though. They’d held up for years, in their previous installation. "Or maybe you’d rather think of how it’s going to feel to sit down, after we’re all done with you. The way I know you’re going to leak all over the inside of your trousers, while Anton and Cullen are trying to talk to you about tomorrow…"
Artemis whimpered, clutching tight to the barrier and to Cormac’s words. These were all terrible, terrible images, and he had to wonder what it said about him that he loved the thrill he felt at each one. He bit back Cormac’s name when it jumped to his lips, afraid to even whisper it in case someone heard or knew.
Every now and then Fenris would glance back at their corner, gaze skimming over where the barrier was but never quite landing on them. There was a part of Artie that was disappointed that Fenris couldn’t see him, but just the fact that Fenris knew was enough to make him shiver, another desperate sound catching behind his teeth. "More," he begged Cormac, as if they didn’t have all night, as if he didn’t need to pace himself. As if the floor weren’t already trembling under his feet. "Please."
Artie saw Fenris smile and wondered if his elf felt it.
Cullen applauded as Anton took a bow, still pantsless. Varric elbowed him. "Whistle a little. Show him you care!"
"Is that really… That sounds terribly rude, Varric," Cullen protested.
"Trust me. He’ll love it." Varric grinned and patted Cullen’s arm. "It’s Anton."
Still looking uncertain, Cullen whistled, like he’d heard Isabela doing, earlier, and Anton blew him a kiss.
"You see that?" Varric said. "That’s what you’re looking for."
"Okay, okay," Anton called out. "I see some of you haven’t picked a side, yet, but it’s counting time!"
"I’m not picking sides, Stabby!" Varric called out, but Cullen got up and made his way across the room, to stand with Isabela.
Anton glanced around and shot a desperate look at Cormac and Artemis, as he saw his brothers return from… likely one of the other rooms. Artie was neurotic. They were probably checking on something. But, Cormac smirked and stood on Jethann’s side, and Artemis stayed by his side. He supposed he couldn’t blame them. They were his brothers.
Jethann made a show of counting the people standing on his side, finger bobbing in the air over each head. "Oh dear," he said, smirking. "You’re welcome to check my counting, Tony, but I think your side is looking a bit… short-staffed?"
"It’s my brother’s party," Anton replied, crossing his arms. "And most of your ‘fans’ are related to me. It was an unfair advantage!"
"You know I have my own advantages with or without your family. They’re just an added bonus." He winked down at Artemis, who grinned back, looking a bit dazed and flushed.
Anton shrugged and called out for another round of drinks, jumping from the table. Cullen was already looking about for Anton’s clothes.
Theron tried to hand back Jethann’s smalls, but Jethann shook his head. "They look better on you, handsome," he said, setting them back on Theron’s head. Kalli gave Anders a long-suffering look.
"He is pretty cute, for an elf," Anders admitted, watching Theron sneak off with Artemis. "Pretty sure I knew the cutest elf, back in Ferelden, though. That adorable little shit was a danger to everything and everyone. I hope he didn’t end up Tranquil, after I left…" And that was a terrifying thought. Wynne had gone out at the same time he had, and Karl had been sent across the sea, just after. There had been no one left who understood Surana, except maybe the First Enchanter. He thought about getting Solona to send a letter for him, just to check.
"What is ‘Tranquil’, anyway?" Kalli asked, watching Jethann get dressed and shake people’s hands. Another elf took his place on the table. "I used to see them in the market, in Denerim, with those weird looks and the eyes that looked right through you. They were different — never rude or angry. I figured them for some kind of religious thing. Shem problem. I didn’t pay it much mind."
"It’s what happens to mages who don’t meet the standards of their circle," Anders said, trying not to sound as angry as he always got, talking about it. They were in the middle of a party. "The templars use lyrium to cut the mage off from their magic, which also removes most of their emotions and their free will. Very much like the Qunari do with prisoners of war, I’m told. Turns slaves into slaves who can’t disobey."
Kalli’s expression darkened at the mention of slaves. "Well," she said dryly. "That doesn’t sound very pleasant." Which, she supposed, was a point in the Dalish’s favour.
"Certainly not for mages," Anders said. Justice stirred just under the surface, uncurling like a cat rising from slumber, but Anders tamped him down. This wasn’t the time or the place, and he suspected that Kalli already sympathized. "But… this is a party, and we should treat it like it. Want another drink? I’m going to go get a refill." He pointed a thumb at the bar. His own refill would be non-alcoholic, he assured Justice. Or the part of him that was Justice.
Kalli smiled and handed Anders her glass. "I’ll walk with you."
Meanwhile, her husband had his hand on Artie’s throat, Artie’s legs tight about his waist. "How hard do you think we can make the floor shake?" Theron growled in Artemis’s ear, lips and tongue playing over its round shell. Artemis merely whimpered Theron’s name in answer, fingers bunching in his tunic.
"Your brother’s out there," Theron teased, slamming his hips forward and grinding Artemis’s back against the wall. "Two brothers and your sister, right? You want me to make you scream my name, so they all know what you’re doing? Just like the first time…" He squeezed a little harder, before giving Artie just enough air to answer him. "You want Fenris to hear you when you come for me, knowing that he’s going to be the very last one of us to have you?"
The groan that Artemis made filled the small space. He pleaded for mercy, from the Maker, from Theron. He didn’t say how much he loved the idea of Fenris hearing, of Cormac hearing, but he didn’t need to, not with the way he arched against Theron.
Fenris settled at the table nearby, angled so that he could see the rest of the party — both parts of it — with one glance. Jethann joined him a moment later, walking carefully so as not to spill his full mug. Beer still dribbled over the sides, and he tutted, licking the beer off the side of the mug.
"Done dancing for the night?" Fenris asked.
"For the moment," Jethann answered, eyeing what he could see of Artemis and Theron. "I think I’ll watch some dancing for a moment."
On the far side of the room, Anton was introducing a dwarven percussion troupe, and the roll of the first huge drum rumbled through the floor. Isabela and Varric still sat nearly in the centre of the room, placing bets and making jokes. Varric pointed to Kalli and Anders and laid two silver pieces on the table.
"No, no. Be more specific," Isabela insisted. "I’m not taking that bet unless you name an act."
"I don’t want to know enough about Blondie to name an act." Varric shook his head. "Assume an arrangement of fish and chickens in the usual manner."
Isabela cackled. "You’re on." That was an elf, and there was no way Anders was going to make it fit, and she knew it. "I’ll be happy to take your money."
The drumming troupe drowned out Artie’s shaky breaths, and he could feel the drum’s low rumble in his chest, filling the spaces between frantic heartbeats. He didn’t feel the earth when it started to shake, and he vowed to thank Cormac for that genius idea as he spilled over Theron’s hand.
After a few more kisses and some hastily rearranged clothing, Theron slipped back into the party, looking for his wife. Kalli wasn’t by the drummers with almost everyone else, even if she was shorter and harder to see in the crowd. He checked twice. And then he spotted Varric and Isabela leaning on a closed door and smirking.
"Have you two seen—"
"Shhh!" Isabela flapped a hand to quiet him, and then pointed to her ear and the door.
Theron leaned in, angling an ear to the door as well. He didn’t even need to stand that close to hear what they were listening for, the door vibrating in time to the wrecked sounds of a woman in ecstasy. A particular set of sounds from a particular woman that Theron knew by heart. Ah, good. He’d found Kalli.
Theron strained to hear who was wringing those sounds from her but could hear nothing else past the rumble of drums. He wondered, for a moment, what Isabela was doing on this side of the door after the way Kalli had been eyeing her earlier in the evening.
"Who is it?" Theron whispered. "Is it that scruffy shem she was talking to?" Kalli had kept insisting he was too hairy, but Theron knew that look of curiosity all too well. If that was Anders, it looked like she had no more complaints about his hairiness.
Isabela nodded. "That scruffy shem with the pole as big around as her thigh. We’ve got a few coins riding on that."
"Her thigh!?" Varric hissed, eyes wide. "You didn’t tell me that! You’re just trying to get me to pay up before it’s actually over."
"Go ask Cormac." Isabela grinned. "He’ll tell you. He’ll probably tell you more than you ever wanted to know."
Theron looked back and forth between them, following the conversation. He thought about it, and then thought about it again, confusion finally settling onto his face. "You’re making it up."
"Maybe a little, but…" Isabela held up her forearm and gestured at it, raising an eyebrow.
Theron leaned back a little and tugged down the edge of his tunic. "That is completely unnecessary and unreasonable, and if I were fifteen years younger, I might be willing to believe it, but I’ve known enough shem without trousers. That’s not even possible."
"Oh, it’s possible," Isabela said, gleeful at the wide-eyed look on Theron’s face. "It’s more than possible. But don’t ask me. Ask your wife." She pointed a thumb at the door as Kalli let out a particularly enthusiastic shriek.
Theron opened and closed his mouth a few times like a fish. "That’s… no." There was no way Kalli would be enjoying that. Would she?
Dwarf and pirate bent back to the door as Theron backed away. He’d certainly ask Kalli about it later, but right now he didn’t need those images. Instead, he wandered over to the curly-haired gentleman hovering by the bar, watching more than participating in the party.