Hi Happy DADWC! Could I Get Alistair & Zevran In The KMH!au With The Platonic Prompt ❛ I Know, I Know.
Hi happy DADWC! Could I get Alistair & Zevran in the KMH!au with the platonic prompt ❛ i know, i know. i’m the best. ❜
AHHH thank you for giving me a Knight My Heart prompt!! I do apologise, this isn't quite the fluff I thought it was going to be 😅
Rated T. Zevran POV. One-sided Zellian (zevwarden). Background Kallistair (aliwarden) for @dadrunkwriting. 461 words.
*
Kallian Tabris snuck up on him like an assassin in the night. Not literally, of course, he was far too good for that, but metaphorically? He was an unsuspecting lamb to her slaughter.
She never washed her dishes. Well, she did, but she always left them far too long. She sang loudly when he had guests over and didn't care. Her dog ate all of his expensive imported chocolate from home and she cried worrying over the mutt. She put empty milk bottles back in the fridge.
They'd met in ridiculous circumstances. He'd broken her best friend's heart or something or other, so she decided to really let him have it one drunken night at the Student Union. He let her. The next weekend she realised she'd gotten him mixed up with some other devilishly handsome man, and bought him a drink to apologise.
He probably should have seen the whole thing coming when he thought she was going to hit him. Literally, not metaphorically.
Unbeknownst to him, it all spiralled from there, behind some door he'd long since lost the key for.
They shared a house with friends in university, then a flat with fewer friends after graduating, and the friends just kept dropping until it was only the two of them.
It had been a little... strange, to watch her success. From two out of work actors, two painfully stereotypical struggling artists, to... one. He was happy for her, of course, but the locked door began to shake in its frame as he wondered how long everything would last.
She hadn't shut up about that human. He'd turned out to be devastatingly plain after all that. But he wasn't blind either. The internet had seen their chemistry too, it was the only reason she'd been invited back. Her words.
Kallian being Kallian, she'd gotten him an audition as soon as she could.
It was nice to work together.
Zevran being Zevran, he fucked it up.
There was a time when it all came to a head. People had noticed their chemistry as well, which made her flustered, which made him bold. But not bold enough.
The slow fading smiles. The pause at her bedroom door. The silence after wishing each other goodnight. He should have kissed her.
"Thank you so much, Zev, this really means a lot," Alistair said earnestly after the final full stop in his fucking notebook.
He should have had some balls, or self-respect, and told Alistair where to go for advice on dating Kallian Tabris.
But Alistair was nice.
And Zevran wasn't. Not enough. Not for her.
"Really!" Alistair grinned, open and without guile in a way that he had no idea how to be.
"I know, I know," Zevran smiled. "I'm the best."
More Posts from Cityelfweek and Others
My version of the city elf origin concept art from Dragon Age: Origins featuring @breninarthur's
Kallian Tabris
You can read Kallian fics here!
The background is an Adobe stock image by user paradoxu
The people have spoken...
City Elf Appreciation Week will take place between the 5th of August and the 11th of August 2024!
Optional prompts soon to follow <3
AND I ALSO COME BEARING MORE PROMPTS BECAUSE YOU KNEW I'D BE CHUCKING DING DONG DADDY INTO YOUR INBOX SO HERE IT IS: "it wasn’t just about needing someone tonight. it was you i needed." for Adaia x Duncan also if you need me I'll be in the corner being all :eyes: emoji af
dingdongdadaia? adaiaddy? much to think about.
thank you for the prompt, effe!
rated m. adaia/duncan. 828 words. @dadrunkwriting
*
The gates of Denerim were fearsome in the moonlight. Shadows played tricks across the wood making them look ever taller; staunch watchmen who promised to keep their secrets.
"Here," Adaia said, holding out her daggers.
Duncan turned to her with a frown.
"Elves who have swords will die upon them," she smiled wryly, shaking the weapons insistently.
"I know," he muttered. He always hated stripping her of her own blades, and his mouth was a grim line as he slowly reached for them.
His hands carefully closed around the hilt of the first, the metal cool against his skin. Adaia didn't let go right away. They held each other's gaze for as long as they held the dagger, before Adaia's small hand slid off and she looked away.
He secured the swords on his hip as she walked towards the gates. He needed to follow, to flash some Grey Warden authority to the guards and explain away why they had been out so late. But he stood rooted; transfixed.
Adaia had always been beautiful. She was beautiful when they'd met, a cut on her face and a snarl on her lips. She was beautiful each time he invited her on a mission, each time she skipped out of the alienage with a laugh and a wave. But in the night, lit by all the stars and the moon, the torchlight bathing her in an amber glow...
"Are you coming?" she smirked, looking at him over her shoulder.
He swallowed, clearing his throat before following her.
As they stole through the quiet streets, Duncan couldn't help but wonder how long they could keep it up. It had been a year since they'd met, fighting their way out of the Brecilian Forest together. How much longer could he ask her to go with him on his less important missions? How much longer would she want to?
The looming alienage gates always sent dread burrowing into his stomach – though he had to assume it was significantly easier for him than Adaia. This time, though, it felt worse somehow. He couldn't pinpoint why. Perhaps it was his closer brush with death than usual that night, or Wintersend knocking on his front door. But Duncan knew that this night couldn't be the same as all the others. He couldn't just say goodbye, watch her head home, and sleep alone in a grim little camp he'd sleepily set up on his way back to the Wardens.
"Well," Adaia smiled, leaning against her front door. They looked around quickly before he gave her back her blades. "Thanks again!"
"Thank you," he replied earnestly.
Her smile widened in a quiet laugh as her hand reached behind her for the door handle.
"If you need anyone again, you know where I am," she grinned.
He heard the door start to open.
He couldn't let it happen that way again.
"It wasn't about needing just anyone," he rushed out, for once not letting his brain filter out what he wanted to say.
Her smile faltered, and the door clicked shut.
"It was you I needed."
She blinked up at him with her big brown eyes, like autumn leaves in the sun. Her dark skin looked flushed in the candlelight that streamed through the window.
He held her gaze, as he could do nothing else.
Adaia was looking at him in a way he'd never noticed. Her eyes flicked between his, down to his lips, and back. Her breath was shallow, her chest quickly rising and falling. He shuddered.
"Good," she whispered.
She was on her tiptoes before he knew it, and he quickly bent down to meet her halfway. He could feel her breath on his lips as they neared, neither daring to push farther just yet. Duncan could feel her mouth against his, the barest brush as they danced around each other.
When the pounding of his heart and the rush in his ears was too much to bear, he brought his hands up to either side of Adaia's face, easily threading his fingers into her hair... and they kissed.
It built up quickly. A year's worth of tension overflowed from both of them, bruising and tender. Passion thrummed in his veins as he felt her tongue against his lips and he opened, deepening their kiss. It was hard, fast, and desperate, and her trembling hand blazed a fire under his skin as her nails dug into the back of his neck.
Her other hand fisted into the front of his shirt, pulling him closer, and he gladly obliged. Duncan pushed Adaia against the door, his hand trailing down her body, grabbing at her helplessly as she gasped into his mouth, tugging him to the present. They were being loud. Soft moans and gasps, the rustle of swords and daggers as they desperately gripped onto each other.
Adaia pulled away suddenly.
"It's getting late," she panted.
"Yes," he murmured, blinking nervously.
"D'you want to come in?"
"...Yes."
Day 3: Community
Mi amor,
By the time this letter reaches you, if it reaches you at all, I will be far away.
I tire of shadows, yet I am more weary of danger, or to be more precise, the danger my presence puts others in. My time among the Dalish was short, and were it not for the intervention of another, may have ended with blood. Innocent blood, that is. There was no shortage of Crow blood to be had. Pray my time in Ansburg is peaceful.
The city’s elves have made me feel quite at home. The elder herself has given me shelter under her roof. Each morning I find children at my doorstep, coveting my attention like I am a hero worthy of their aspirations. I do not tell them what I truly am, though I suspect their elders know.
They live humbly here, but I think you would enjoy yourself— the Minanter flows more freely than your beloved Drakon, and we are far enough north that all manner of fruits and vegetables come through the city’s markets. True, I have not the coin to buy them, but what is the harm in relieving a merchant of a peach here and there?
I will beg the Maker for forgiveness later.
I once told you I considered myself lucky for an orphan, and in many ways that still holds true. I often wonder, however, what would have happened if I was trusted not to the brothel, but my people. I do not remember the Alienage in Antiva City, or, indeed, in Rialto. Would they have guarded me so closely there, as they do here? Would I have been safe? Would I have been happy?
Ah, but what use is there in wondering? You know poverty’s sting as well as I, mi amor. I might have been happy, yes, but I am happy now, knowing your warm embrace awaits me in cold Amaranthine.
Con cariño, Zevran
Written for @cityelfweek day 3!
sunrise at the vhenadahl - ariya & kallian tabris
a very late drabble for @inquisimer & oc kiss week, finished up for @cityelfweek! ariya (15) and kallian (18) have a bet in the tabris cousinverse <3
rated g, no warnings, 282 words. divider credit.
If Ariya won, Kallian would have to stand in front of a gathered crowd and dance.
If Kallian won, Ariya would have to endure some unknown embarrassment that her older cousin annoyingly refused to elaborate on.
Ariya stood at the foot of the vhenadahl, arms crossed, and a smug smirk on her face. The sun was about to rise past the walls of the alienage and hit the leaves of the great tree, and once that happened, if there was still no Kallian, she would have won. And there wasn’t a single chance in the world her cousin would be able to wake up that early. No way at all.
She yawned, leaning against the trunk and closing her eyes. Really, there’d been hardly any reason for her to get up that early, Kallian wouldn’t have been there either way. Ariya peeked her eyes open, peering up at the sky. Any minute now.
“Oh dear.”
She jumped, and quickly paled.
Strolling around the other side of the vhenadahl, was Kallian. Bleary-eyed, a bird’s nest for hair, her dress on both inside out and backwards, yes, but there all the same.
Ariya looked her up and down, her eyes narrowed. “You cheated.”
“Cheated? My lovely, tiny, baby little cousin… so small, so little… there were no rules." Kallian yawned, in a way that managed to be self-satisfied and triumphant.
“Soris woke you,” Ariya frowned accusingly, already brewing up elaborate plans of revenge in her head.
“Yes he did.”
* * *
Later that day, Kallian waited until the market rush was in full swing before dragging Ariya out.
“Oh I love you too, Ya-Ya!” she crowed, smothering her teenaged cousin’s bright-red face in loud, mortifying kisses.
Andraste and Shartan
Part of the Alienage Soundscape series created for @cityelfweek
“Hahren, Take better care to instruct the Alienage's children to avoid blasphemy and gross irreverence. Shartan is not a canonical figure of the Chant, and he certainly was not our Prophet's Lover. I will let the matter rest for now, but I will not be able to ignore future occurrences. That such an insinuation was made at all in the birthplace of Andraste would be enough cause for a public outrage.”
—A letter from Mother Boann of Denerim to hahren Valendrian of the Denerim Alienage
WARNING! The following song is explicit and irreverent.
(Lyrics and song without sound effects under the cut)
The Maker loves Andraste, does Andraste love him back? And Maferath is fine I guess, except that he does lack A certain girth and attitude, so when she got to pick, Andraste chose the elvhen man with long and lovely… ears!
We all know that Andraste loved Shartan! We all know that they made love in her tent! We all know that Andraste loved Shartan! We all know that Andraste fucked an elf!
And when Andraste went to sleep into her tent at night, A shadow would approach the flap and enter it and hide. And when the ‘ooh's and ‘aah's began, Andraste's hound heard some. He rolled his eyes, he heaved a sigh and left them to their come.
We all know that Andraste loved Shartan! We all know that they made love in her tent! We all know that Andraste loved Shartan! We all know that Andraste fucked an elf!
When our Lady was in chains and dragged upon her pyre, When Maferath had sealed his fate and stoked the Maker's ire, Shartan and hundred elves ran fast to save our Lady bright, And when they died Andraste cried: “I knew it, I chose right!”
We all know that Andraste loved Shartan! We all know that they made love in her tent! We all know that Andraste loved Shartan! We all know that Andraste fucked an elf!
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A fan event to show your love and appreciation for all things City Elf. Beginning the first Monday of August.
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