[ Master Post ]
Title: Rhapsody in Ass Major – Chapter 285
Fandom: Dragon Age
Characters: Artemis Hawke ♂, Fenris ♂, Cormac Hawke ♂, Isabela ♀, Zevran Arainai ♂
Rating: T (L2 N0 S0 V2 D0)
Warnings: Canon-typical violence, discussions of sharing the Hawke ass
Notes: A great lot of trouble is made. Stabbing, and then offers of … stabbing.
A few hours later, they found themselves at the camp of the Antivans. Whether they were actually Crows was irrelevant, Cormac supposed — the point was that they were probably going to make life difficult. He figured to give them the chance to pack up and go back to Antiva, but somehow, he doubted they’d accept the sensible offer.
He presented himself to Nuncio, nudging Artemis back with a quick, "You don’t get to have all the fun!" and his bow was as tart as the look on his face.
"We let your assassin go. Were we not supposed to do that?" Cormac said, smiling impolitely, eyes glittering. He had a shield. He wasn’t concerned.
"You had him and you let him go?" Nuncio looked baffled, before he managed irate. "I am thoroughly disappointed. No one fails the Crows and lives."
"That’s not what I heard," Anders coughed, feeling Cormac raise a shield around him.
"Ah, poor, stupid Nuncio," said a voice with a familiar Antivan accent. Zevran slipped out of the shadows, and the sun lit his blond hair and cheeky grin. "The Crows do like that saying, but I am living proof it’s a lie." He clucked his tongue and turned to Cormac. "Why they insist on thinking they can kill people like you and the Warden, I will never guess."
Artie patted Cormac’s shoulder. "People trying to kill Cormac is a burden he bears on a daily basis."
"You’re nothing but a traitor and a coward, Zevran," Nuncio snarled, jabbing a finger in Zevran’s direction while reaching for his dagger with his free hand. "You’ll die here!"
From behind, quick footsteps approached them through the sand. Anders barely got out, "Zev-!" before Zevran was turning, a dagger no one had seen him draw flying from his fingertips. The charging Crow slowed to a wobble before falling at Zevran’s feet, a dagger through the eye.
"Yes, well." Zevran’s smile was more of a sneer now. "Let’s see how that works out for you."
Daggers flew from every direction, pinging off of Cormac’s shields and showing them just how surrounded they were. Nuncio and a few of his cronies darted towards the group, flanking them with blades drawn. Artemis threw out a hand, and their approach slowed to a crawl. Fenris drew his sword and blazed into the battle, leaving behind a streak of ghostly blue.
None of the Antivans had been expecting what they got. The Champion of Kirkwall, after all, was said to be a man with a certain skill with knives. If this was the Champion, the stories were lies. Even expecting some magic hadn’t prepared them for this. Two ghostly warriors no one could land a solid shot on, two mages dragging their enemies to a halt, the assassin they’d been chasing and a woman with delightful taste in accessories darting between them and slitting throats.
It was over almost as soon as it had begun.
Cormac shouldered his glaive and shook his head. "A varterral. We slew a varterral before lunch, and they thought they could get the better of us?"
"Well, they didn’t know that," Anders was quick to point out, sliding his own staff into the rings on the back of his coat to free his hands. "Anyone actually get hit? Should I be healing any of you?"
"You can heal me any time, Sparklefingers!" Isabela called across the camp.
"Is ‘healing’ a euphemism now?" Fenris asked. "No. Never mind. I don’t want to know."
Zevran sucked in a deep breath before expelling it, as though he were enjoying the sea air. "Excellent," he said. "Killing my former brothers-in-arms is oddly satisfying." He approached the pair of Hawkes, wiping blood from his cheek with the back of his hand. "I’ve… little reward to offer you for your help, but perhaps this will serve as a token of my thanks." He pulled out a wicked-looking dagger with dual blades and held it out, handle towards the mages.
"Oh, the ‘Champion’ would love this," Artemis laughed, accepting the dagger and turning it over in his hands.
"Do you have a dagger for me too?" Izzy asked.
Zevran bowed to her. "My dear Isabela," he said, "it has been a delight to see you again." He bowed to Anders as well. "You as well, my dear Mage-Warden. You both travel in fine company."
"That’s it?" Isabela huffed. "You’re leaving? What about sex?"
Anders choked on his horrified laughter, while Artie shook his head. "And Varric calls me Slutty," Artemis muttered.
Zevran shook with his own laughter. "Still blunt as a dwarven hammer, hmm? Well, why not?"
"Please don’t catch anything," Anders sighed, rubbing his face as he fished through his bag for a lyrium potion.
"You say that like you’re not coming with us," Zevran said, eyeing Anders.
"Oh, don’t mind him. He’s gotten boring over the years," Isabela scoffed.
"I object to that characterisation." Cormac jabbed a finger at Isabela. "And you know exactly how boring I’m not."
Zevran looked speculative. "What about a Hawke? Can we bring a Hawke?"
"What a delightful idea!" Isabela turned her hungry eyes on Artemis. "Does this count as bringing you a handsome elf? Now can I ogle your bare ass?"
Fenris sighed dramatically and rolled his eyes. Anders shrugged sympathetically.
Artie answered with a nervous laugh. Still, he looked speculatively between Anders and Zevran before turning a shrug of his own and a questioning look at Fenris.
Zevran interrupted. "The skinny one? No, no, I was talking about that thick slab of Fereldan meat standing next to him. The one who is ‘not boring’. But, you know, both would be good. Are you adventurous enough for both?"
Cormac blinked, surprised. "What?"
"I think the question is whether they’re adventurous enough for both." Isabela laughed. "They’re brothers, remember?"
Anders eyed Fenris and Fenris looked back.
"It is not my place to speak to how adventurous my husband is. I am certain his decision on the matter will speak enough for both of us." Fenris wondered if he was carrying dice. Maybe Anders had a deck of cards in that bag, somewhere.
"I, ah, you know, I don’t usually… elves, but…" Cormac sputtered, feeling Artemis’s eyes on him. "Not necessarily averse, just… I… You know what? That’s my brother, and I’m going to let him speak for us, since I seem to have misplaced my tongue."
"Well, I can only hope you’ve placed it somewhere both interesting and worthwhile," Zevran teased.
"Speak for…?" Artemis was no less flustered than Cormac. He ran a hand through his hair and tugged at the ends. "No. I am not speaking for both of us. Speaking is, however, a thing we need to do. With each other. Speaking. Give us a moment, while I help him find his tongue. Metaphorically." Izzy bit back a snicker. "Not in that way!" Artemis scowled at Isabela and tugged Cormac by the elbow, pulling him away from the camp and behind an outcropping of rock.
Artie took a moment to flail outside of view of everyone but his brother. "How do we…? What do we…? Um?"
"Everybody and their dog knows we shared Anders, by now." Cormac lowered his voice even further. "And, Creators, do I miss watching him writhe between us. So, if you want to do this, we can do this. I… don’t really care, one way or the other. He’s a good-looking elf, but… not really my style. But, you know what I like. Anders seems to be under the impression he’s worth a try, though. Or at least that he was, at one point. He wants me, you want him, Isabela wants a good look at you. And, then, of course, there’s the idea that someone who doesn’t have an interest in holding their tongue is going to have seen us both naked at the same time, but… with the number of Orlesians through Kirkwall, I’m not sure anyone would actually care."
"Fuck the Orlesians," Artemis huffed, though his smile looked more relaxed now. "All right. We could… I mean, if Isabela says anything about it, we can always blame Anders." Artie took a moment to make sure no one could see them from where they were, and then he took Cormac’s chin and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. "This should be interesting."
Artemis ducked back around the rock to find Zevran standing considerably closer to Fenris. Whatever the Antivan was saying set Fenris’s ears vibrating. Isabela didn’t bother hiding her eagerness when she spotted the Hawkes. "Well?" she asked. "How many Hawkes for our Crow?"
"Former Crow," Zevran corrected, holding up a finger.
Artie glanced back at Cormac. "Two, it seems," he said. Fenris’s eyebrows twitched up.
"What can I say? He’s convincing!" Cormac grinned at Anders.
"Oh, no no. That was not him. That was me." Anders folded his arms before realising he was still holding a lyrium potion. He drank it.
"Was that your fault? It was a good time, either way. You make good sandwich meat." Cormac laughed, trying to look easier about this than he was.
"So I’ve been told." The look on Anders’s face was somewhat less than entirely amused. He sighed. "All right, all right, anyone who’s getting naked in the same room with Isabela step over here. Healing and curatives for all."
"You’re not even getting involved, are you, Warden? I’ll admit I’ve missed your talents." Zevran eyed Anders lecherously, as he stepped forward to accept the healing.
"No, I’m not. But, Cormac is, and that’s close enough for me." Anders parted his hands, swirls of blue and green winding around Zevran and spreading outward to settle over the group.
Cormac looked impressed. "Really? All at once?"
"I’ve been working on that. What, you think you’re the only one doing research into exciting magical techniques?" Anders smiled smugly.
"Not to be rude, but where, exactly, were you thinking of hosting this orgy? It seems terribly sandy out here, and we’re right off a public road, in what seems a popular place to camp," Fenris pointed out.
"That was surprisingly tactful," Anders said. "I’ve seen rude from you, and that’s not it."
"I could show you some more of it," Fenris offered.
"Ooh, have we started on the foreplay already?" Zevran asked. "How exciting!"
"That’s… not…" Fenris’s ears stuck out at odd angles. "That does not answer my question."
"I don’t mind a bit of sand," said Isabela with a careless shrug. "Or an audience, really. But, Ser Fussypants, if we set up up there, that copse of trees should give us some privacy." She pointed over Fenris’s shoulder. "Does that suit you?"
Fenris hummed as he considered. "It is sufficient," he said.
Artie grimaced and ducked into the nearest tent, reappearing moments later with a bedroll under his arm. At his friend’s questioning looks, he threw up his free hand and said, "If we’re doing this near trees, I’m going to do what I can to avoid bark-burn on my more sensitive bits. And I’d also rather not find rocks and sand where they don’t belong. So." He gestured at the other tents, still full of their own bedding. "Shall we?"
"The man has a point," Zevran said. He ducked into the next tent to see what he could grab. And also to get the bedroll.