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peopleofthedas2011-05-10 10:04 pm
ouyangdan) wrote in peopleofthedas2011-05-10 10:04 pm
OYD's Very Special CrackFic Theatre Presents!
I'm riding the CrackFic Gravy Train with Biscuit Wheels, kittens!
This one's rated M for bits of violence and some mild steaminess. Yes, my adoring kittens, it seems that those scamps, Kahrin andmiri1984's Carver are ready to take their relationship to the next level. Not everyone is as excited about this as you and I are!
Things you need to know before clicking through the cut: Possible mild spoiler-like things, characters, implied or otherwise, that I do not own, and references to a certain sneaky tax-evading darkspawn.
Other installments are here and here.
Kahrin hadn't been in the Deep Roads in such a long time. She hated them. They were dark and creepy with tainted scum on the walls, and franky she had spent too much time in them already. She wasn't exactly looking forward to the day she would come back for good. She didn't know too many Wardens who relished the time they spent here when they didn't have to.
She shifted her pack on her shoulders. Why had she come back here?
A strong arm circled around hers and caused her to startle out of her thought. She looked up into Carver's face and remembered the awkward afternoon back in the bar. Comparing swords. Weird, strained pauses where she tried to remember how she ever knew how to talk to men she found pleasant. That startling moment when she'd realized that she had never had to start from scratch, either knowing since childhood or surviving near-death with each lover she'd ever had. She hadn't really had the practice. Who knew that a gloom and doom future of slowly becoming a tainted ghoul could draw two people together?
Hardly a smile out of this one, though, and she couldn't get to the blasted Deep Roads fast enough. Part of her was eager to see how things had been faring while she'd been away, and part of her was not in a hurry to deal with Nathaniel. She was rather bored with his particular flavor of dramatic scowling when he disapproved of her decision making. It was too bad, because it happened to be the part of being Commander at which she excelled. Eschewing Courtly duties in favor of the practice yard as a girl had paid off. Wouldn't her mother have been proud of her?
Carver gave a goofy, half embarrassed smile. She had half-jokingly asked him if he had been issued his own tent and bedroll. She was certain the seneschal would have seen to it, but she had been wanting to see him blush again.
His overenthusiastic reassurance that he did and his slow realization that she had been trying to give him a playful open invite to share her own had been down right sweet. She jested with him gently when he asked if he was supposed to have answered her “no” instead.
She tried not to giggle too much. “I was hoping so. It would make it easier to show you those scars you seem so impressed by, and entertain my show-off nature. Though, if you'd prefer to use your own …”
“No, no!” He blushed at realizing just how eager he'd come off. “Maker, you're doing that on purpose,” he laughed.
Kahrin did her best to feign innocence. “We can ditch one of them over there,” she winked. She turned to move ahead, but he caught her by the shoulder, and turned her to face him.
“You are lovely, and dangerous, you know that?” Kahrin beamed under his praise, and then leaned into the kiss he pulled her into. The beginning had felt like pulling teeth, but they had progressed smoothly into the place where he didn't seem concerned at all that she was supposed to be his commander or that they were about to walk into the werewolves' lair of trouble that would result from their new relationship. All she knew was that in the days she'd known him she had been clear headed and less lonely. Being the walking dead, so to speak, was a lonely enough feeling without being actually alone. Carver, not a Warden by his own choice, had come to fill a need for her, and she thought, perhaps, she for him.
She sagged into the kiss heavily, bending up on her toes and wrapping her arms back and around his shoulders. “Are you ready? I can sense them up ahead. This could be … well, just be careful. I haven't been around in a while. Nate … uh, the Lieutenant can be a real prig.”
That was an understatement.
Carver raised an eyebrow at her. “I'm already dying, what could they do to me that could be worse than making me drink from the Joining cup again?”
“Oh, you are cute, aren't you?” Kahrin stopped and closed her eyes. No nearby darkspawn, but she knew the other Wardens were not far off now.
They turned two more tunnels and were deep inside the thaig where she knew they'd find the camp. She'd hung back slightly to watch Carver, to see how his instincts had honed. He might have been slightly bitter about the situation of his joining, but he had thrown himself into the Wardens completely. He followed the same call she felt as naturally as anyone she'd ever seen.
“Well shave my back and call me a deepstalker! Look what the new blighter's dragged home?” Kahrin allowed an unguarded smirk to cross her face at Oghren's greeting. The dwarf was leaning on the end of his axe, looking slightly less drunk than the last she'd seen him. But only slightly. He stood outside of his tent on the end of a line of several tents on a rise in the center of a sprawling raised floor of an ancient chamber.
“Ohgren”, she nodded at him, a wry smile on her face. Deep inside she was delighted. She'd missed him so sodding much. Not enough to hug him. She wasn't ready to be groped by a drunken dwarf. The oldest friend she had left. She'd have to ease Carver into her delicate group dynamics. “It's good to see the handsomest man I know. Now go make yourself ready, you stallion.” She gave him a wink.
That won her a wicked twinkle from his green eyes. “Ha! Sodding nug humper! I missed you, old pal.” He lowered his voice. “You may want to avoid the Lieutenant if you can. I can't imagine he's going to be exceptionally happy to see you slinking around the camp unannounced. By the stone, Commander, where have you been?”
Kahrin laughed to herself. That was a story for another day.
She couldn't wait. She rolled her eyes slightly. She'd been too long separated from her dear Arl. “All right, Oghren, I'll mind myself, but I have a feeling it will be hard to keep it quiet”. She knew it was going to be difficult to keep him from noticing the commotion that was bound to arise from her appearing out of the ether after a year. “So, you, um, know the uh … new Warden, Oghren?”
Carver shifted uncomfortably. She didn't realize how difficult it would be to reconcile two parts of her life.
“Bah! The little Blighter? Hah! Oh, yeah, we all like him, by the stone. He's a lot of fun. Needs to loosen up a little bit, this one.” Carver scowled. A sure sign that he did indeed know Oghren.
She wanted to put a hand on him, to reassure him, but this was not the time. Things between them were too tenuous and if they were going to figure this out he was going to have to be able to stand on his own and she had to remember to keep a line drawn between duty and personal. She remembered how to do that only too well.
Kahrin felt a sudden jarring as she was spun around and thrown into a solid stone column, hard. Even through her armor the wind was knocked out of her by the force and she gasped in surprise. She didn't even have time to draw a blade before the edge of a dagger was at her throat and a hand was twined in her hair near the nape of her neck. I knew I should have had my helm on. Dammit.
Nathaniel's face was inches from hers, his disapproving glower telling her that he was most unamused to find her making rounds. “Commander,” he growled. She saw Carver's fingers twitch reflexively, the look of wanting to pull his sword conflicting with the sense that told him not to draw blades on his superior as Nathaniel pressed his blade to her skin. Don't do it. Don't be daft.
“Nathaniel. Love. Miss me?” She smirked at him. This was their dance. What they did. One of these days perhaps one of them might finish the job, but it wasn't likely. That wasn't part of the rules. She found her footing and kicked his instep, then swept his foot forward from behind him, knocking him off balance enough to get out from under his dagger with only a shallow cut. A thin trickle of blood ran down her throat. Just like old times. She gave him a devious smile.
Carver glared at them.
She kicked Nathaniel in the chest and sent him back allowing her to pull her dagger from her boot, the point of which she now held to his throat menacingly. “Is this any way to welcome me back?”
“Welcome you? Where in the Void have you been, Kahrin? Fancy seeing you back here,” his eyes flicked to Carver from his position on the ground, “with our most junior member. I take it you've been introduced?”
She gave him a generous smile, and then offered him her hand and helped him to his feet. She had no intention of killing him. Then she might have to hold court and deal with their nobles. That would never do. “You might say that. I'm here to help with the scouting. I may even be back. For now. I couldn't stay away from my dearest Arl. What would you do without me? What have you done without me?” She frowned. “We have lot to talk about, Nathaniel. I am a little unhappy with you.”
He raged at her with his eyes, but inclined his head towards the command tent set up towards the center of the camp. “I'll bring you up to speed, Commander. Bring the whelp, he'll need to be briefed. I think you'll be happy with his performance.” Kahrin motioned for Carver, who was still looking a little bewildered, to follow. She found it difficult to not reach out and grasp his fingers in hers, to explain to him that this was … just the way things were. When she was certain Nathaniel couldn't see her she smiled at him, but he only managed a strained half one back.
It will be fine, you'll see. She wanted to tell him. She had known this would be difficult.
This was why she had made the rule when she first arrived in Amaranthine. No relationships with the Wardens under her command. She couldn't think of a way to make herself feel comfortable blurring the line between her duty and her feelings. It had been a disaster before, so she had simply refused to consider the idea of doing it again.
It's a little late for that now, girl.
The three of them walked through the center of the Thaig's main chamber towards the main tent, and Nathaniel placed a hand on the small of her back. Normally she would never have noticed the way they interacted, in a completely casual and almost overly intimate way. Now she found it awkward with Carver standing beside her pretending not to notice. She did a slight side-step to pull out of it.
Nate brought her up to speed on the particular raid they were on, plunging into tunnels and clearing Thaigs that had been formerly lost. This would help build unity with the dwarves of Orzammar and hopefully bring much needed cash back to the Keep to aid with repairs. Plus, he noted, one of those talking darkspawn had been sighted.
Kahrin seethed silently. She hated darkspawn who spoke. They loved to go on. You would think a sword to the throat would suppress the urge to soliloquize at her, but they would just go on and on and on …
Maps were reviewed and strategy laid out. They barely bickered about the best routes to take. She hardly had to yell at him for any disorder in the camp. Things were well under control. No matter how strained things seemed between them they managed this order like a finely-honed blade. It had always been that way since she had made Nathaniel the official Arl of Amaranthine and her Lieutenant and maintained the title of Commander.
The watches had already been assigned for the evening. Nathaniel assured Kahrin that her tent would be made ready immediately just off of the command tent. It was late and there was nothing left to do. The evening meal had already been served but he could arrange for food to be sent to her so she could rest after the journey down to join them. She nodded, biting the inside of her lip subtly as he then turned to Carver, who was trying to be invisible in the corner.
“You, of course are dismissed. Someone will help you find something to eat and you can set up where you would normally.”
Carver looked to her only briefly, and then nodded in salut to them both. He turned to leave as instructed, proving to her that he was very much able to make that separation she was hoping to hold on to.
Don't leave him out to dry.
She took a deep breath.
“Carver Hawke.” She held her chin up, raising one eyebrow, with her arms crossed behind her back.
He stopped mid-stride. She could tell from looking at the back of his head that he was flushing. She also didn't have to look at where Nathaniel was standing over the maps at the table that he was gracing her with a very skeptical look that was reserved for her whenever she followed up any of his orders with thoughts of her own.
A very wide-eyed Carver turned to face her. His face was slightly ashen. “Commander?”
“We've traveled all of this way together. I would be honoured if you would join me for a proper meal. In my tent.” She was in her element here. This camp, like the Keep, was her domain. No shyness, no awkwardness. She didn't have to think of a way to talk to him. She spoke, and he listened, and she knew that would seem normal.
He swallowed hard. “Y-yes, C-comander. I-I would consider it a fine privilege.”
Oh, he was cute when he blushed.
“Excellent. I will see you as soon as you are ready.” He crossed his arms and saluted them both and backed out of the tent.
“Mind telling me what that was all about, Commander?” Nathaniel practically spat the last word as if it tasted foul.
“You were standing here as well as I.” She dared him to defy her already. She had many, many things to discuss with him, but she was hungry and tired, and honestly wanting to be alone in her tent with Carver with as little spectacle as possible.
He grabbed her wrist hard and twisted it. “What are you playing at?”
She tried to break his grip, but it was strong and the simmering rage on his face had her slightly worried. “It's none of your business, Arl Howe,” she hissed.
He released her arm and shoved her away hard. “You're kidding! Tell me you are kidding.”
Kahrin gave him a firm glare. “I said it is none of your business. Void take you, Nathaniel, that hurt.” She flexed her wrist in her gauntlet.
He had her by the throat and had knocked over the map table in seconds. She was pinned under him, trying to swallow against the pressure he had on her windpipe. She knew that if he wanted to he could crush it. The dance had begun again. “I'm sorry I was gone so long,” she managed to whisper while trying to smile to hide any hint of fear that might show on her face. “Now, excuse me. I have dinner plans, my love.” She drew the last word out sarcastically. She had the blade of her knife against his side. It would slice clean through the side of his armor, she knew. She'd done it before. She had no chance to fight him off by force in a fair fight. She also knew that from experience. Their fights were never fair, and was why they had rules. He had just come close to bending them in a way that was not allowed.
He released her, and she gasped, rubbing her throat and springing to her feet. “Good night, my dear Arl,” she said over her shoulder as she saw her way out. She could feel his scowl brooding at her as she slipped through the flap. The cut burned and she could feel the place where he had grabbed her beginning to bruise.
Carver was standing on the other side in a shadow, waiting for her when she stepped out. His face did not look amused in the slightest. “Mind telling me what that was all about? Are you two …?” He raised an eyebrow that suggested all the meaning he couldn't seem to articulate.
“Maker, no.” she barked out a laugh. “I don't …” she paused, looking at his frown. She didn't want to get into this now. “My tent is this way, bring your things.”
“Is that, wise?” He looked worried.
“It's fine, I assure you. Unless you make a huge fuss of it.” She smiled warmly at him.
She let him usher her into her personal tent, where they had what she always called Road Fare, translating into dried meat of whatever animal was handy cooked into some stew. It tasted better if washed down with plenty of wine, and no Deep Roads expedition was ever dry.
Then they were alone, really alone, for the first time. No family, no bar patrons, no darkspawn, no comrades in arm. It was always so quiet when they sat facing one another. She didn't want to talk about swords again. She didn't want to talk about anything unpleasant that had happened since they'd shown up in camp.
“Commander, perhaps I should …” He tentatively touched the cut on her throat, and reflexively her first impulse was to shove his hand away from her blood protectively. But she remembered that it couldn't hurt him.
“You can't call me that in here.” She smiled. “Only out there, in front of everyone else. Until we figure out how this works.”
He smiled, almost shyly. “How what works?” He pulled her to him and started to kiss her, slow and sweet.
She fumbled with the buckles on his armor. Sodding armor. Why not think to remove armor before getting to this point?
He pulled back a little and looked at her curiously, asking his permission with his eyes. She nodded and guided his hands to the buckles of her own cuirass. Soon enough they were off with the plates, and he laid her back gently onto her bedroll, pressing into her, sighing.
Suddenly, for the first time in years Kahrin didn't feel like the walking dead. She didn't wish she'd fallen from the top of Fort Drakon. She felt connected to something other than a tainted sickness that would accelerate her dying and eventually claim her.
She pulled him to her, running her hands over the places where his back dimpled just above his bottom. She wrapped her legs around him and he circled his arms around her and cradled her head in his massive arms and she clung to him and she felt alive, like she was living. He softly kissed her fresh wounds, and traced curious fingers along the silvery lines of her scars and made her shiver and feel whole, not broken. She sighed against his chest and he let out small moans into her neck as he trailed kisses along it, and they crashed into one another with felt like a mutual need.
When it was over, hours later, and she knew that they had precious little time to sleep, she let him fold her to him in his arms and she twined her legs into his. She didn't want to ruin this time with sleep and nightmares that sometimes still came with it for her. She held her head to his chest and listened as his heart facilitated the slow and steady poisoning of his body with every beat and knew that hers did the same. Carver pulled his fingers through her hair and kissed the top of her head. This they shared.
Kahrin was content and happy, and as Carver nuzzled his nose, sighing, against her neck near where her cut had already begun to heal, she had a sense that he was too.
Outside Nathaniel passed by, again, on his watch. The watch he'd relieved the stander of personally just a couple of hours ago. He knew this area was secured already, but he'd felt the need to check it again. And again. He paused, a hand on her tent's flap, and considered, hand on the hilt of his dagger, slipping noiselessly inside, like a shadow to where she and that pup slept. That would be breaking the rules, though. Even though she had apparently decided to break her personal rules.
To the Void with her.
Anger welled in him. This was not the time. Not now.
Nathaniel took his hand away from the tent, frowning.
He stormed away.
This one's rated M for bits of violence and some mild steaminess. Yes, my adoring kittens, it seems that those scamps, Kahrin and
miri1984's Carver are ready to take their relationship to the next level. Not everyone is as excited about this as you and I are!Things you need to know before clicking through the cut: Possible mild spoiler-like things, characters, implied or otherwise, that I do not own, and references to a certain sneaky tax-evading darkspawn.
Other installments are here and here.
Kahrin hadn't been in the Deep Roads in such a long time. She hated them. They were dark and creepy with tainted scum on the walls, and franky she had spent too much time in them already. She wasn't exactly looking forward to the day she would come back for good. She didn't know too many Wardens who relished the time they spent here when they didn't have to.
She shifted her pack on her shoulders. Why had she come back here?
A strong arm circled around hers and caused her to startle out of her thought. She looked up into Carver's face and remembered the awkward afternoon back in the bar. Comparing swords. Weird, strained pauses where she tried to remember how she ever knew how to talk to men she found pleasant. That startling moment when she'd realized that she had never had to start from scratch, either knowing since childhood or surviving near-death with each lover she'd ever had. She hadn't really had the practice. Who knew that a gloom and doom future of slowly becoming a tainted ghoul could draw two people together?
Hardly a smile out of this one, though, and she couldn't get to the blasted Deep Roads fast enough. Part of her was eager to see how things had been faring while she'd been away, and part of her was not in a hurry to deal with Nathaniel. She was rather bored with his particular flavor of dramatic scowling when he disapproved of her decision making. It was too bad, because it happened to be the part of being Commander at which she excelled. Eschewing Courtly duties in favor of the practice yard as a girl had paid off. Wouldn't her mother have been proud of her?
Carver gave a goofy, half embarrassed smile. She had half-jokingly asked him if he had been issued his own tent and bedroll. She was certain the seneschal would have seen to it, but she had been wanting to see him blush again.
His overenthusiastic reassurance that he did and his slow realization that she had been trying to give him a playful open invite to share her own had been down right sweet. She jested with him gently when he asked if he was supposed to have answered her “no” instead.
She tried not to giggle too much. “I was hoping so. It would make it easier to show you those scars you seem so impressed by, and entertain my show-off nature. Though, if you'd prefer to use your own …”
“No, no!” He blushed at realizing just how eager he'd come off. “Maker, you're doing that on purpose,” he laughed.
Kahrin did her best to feign innocence. “We can ditch one of them over there,” she winked. She turned to move ahead, but he caught her by the shoulder, and turned her to face him.
“You are lovely, and dangerous, you know that?” Kahrin beamed under his praise, and then leaned into the kiss he pulled her into. The beginning had felt like pulling teeth, but they had progressed smoothly into the place where he didn't seem concerned at all that she was supposed to be his commander or that they were about to walk into the werewolves' lair of trouble that would result from their new relationship. All she knew was that in the days she'd known him she had been clear headed and less lonely. Being the walking dead, so to speak, was a lonely enough feeling without being actually alone. Carver, not a Warden by his own choice, had come to fill a need for her, and she thought, perhaps, she for him.
She sagged into the kiss heavily, bending up on her toes and wrapping her arms back and around his shoulders. “Are you ready? I can sense them up ahead. This could be … well, just be careful. I haven't been around in a while. Nate … uh, the Lieutenant can be a real prig.”
That was an understatement.
Carver raised an eyebrow at her. “I'm already dying, what could they do to me that could be worse than making me drink from the Joining cup again?”
“Oh, you are cute, aren't you?” Kahrin stopped and closed her eyes. No nearby darkspawn, but she knew the other Wardens were not far off now.
They turned two more tunnels and were deep inside the thaig where she knew they'd find the camp. She'd hung back slightly to watch Carver, to see how his instincts had honed. He might have been slightly bitter about the situation of his joining, but he had thrown himself into the Wardens completely. He followed the same call she felt as naturally as anyone she'd ever seen.
“Well shave my back and call me a deepstalker! Look what the new blighter's dragged home?” Kahrin allowed an unguarded smirk to cross her face at Oghren's greeting. The dwarf was leaning on the end of his axe, looking slightly less drunk than the last she'd seen him. But only slightly. He stood outside of his tent on the end of a line of several tents on a rise in the center of a sprawling raised floor of an ancient chamber.
“Ohgren”, she nodded at him, a wry smile on her face. Deep inside she was delighted. She'd missed him so sodding much. Not enough to hug him. She wasn't ready to be groped by a drunken dwarf. The oldest friend she had left. She'd have to ease Carver into her delicate group dynamics. “It's good to see the handsomest man I know. Now go make yourself ready, you stallion.” She gave him a wink.
That won her a wicked twinkle from his green eyes. “Ha! Sodding nug humper! I missed you, old pal.” He lowered his voice. “You may want to avoid the Lieutenant if you can. I can't imagine he's going to be exceptionally happy to see you slinking around the camp unannounced. By the stone, Commander, where have you been?”
Kahrin laughed to herself. That was a story for another day.
She couldn't wait. She rolled her eyes slightly. She'd been too long separated from her dear Arl. “All right, Oghren, I'll mind myself, but I have a feeling it will be hard to keep it quiet”. She knew it was going to be difficult to keep him from noticing the commotion that was bound to arise from her appearing out of the ether after a year. “So, you, um, know the uh … new Warden, Oghren?”
Carver shifted uncomfortably. She didn't realize how difficult it would be to reconcile two parts of her life.
“Bah! The little Blighter? Hah! Oh, yeah, we all like him, by the stone. He's a lot of fun. Needs to loosen up a little bit, this one.” Carver scowled. A sure sign that he did indeed know Oghren.
She wanted to put a hand on him, to reassure him, but this was not the time. Things between them were too tenuous and if they were going to figure this out he was going to have to be able to stand on his own and she had to remember to keep a line drawn between duty and personal. She remembered how to do that only too well.
Kahrin felt a sudden jarring as she was spun around and thrown into a solid stone column, hard. Even through her armor the wind was knocked out of her by the force and she gasped in surprise. She didn't even have time to draw a blade before the edge of a dagger was at her throat and a hand was twined in her hair near the nape of her neck. I knew I should have had my helm on. Dammit.
Nathaniel's face was inches from hers, his disapproving glower telling her that he was most unamused to find her making rounds. “Commander,” he growled. She saw Carver's fingers twitch reflexively, the look of wanting to pull his sword conflicting with the sense that told him not to draw blades on his superior as Nathaniel pressed his blade to her skin. Don't do it. Don't be daft.
“Nathaniel. Love. Miss me?” She smirked at him. This was their dance. What they did. One of these days perhaps one of them might finish the job, but it wasn't likely. That wasn't part of the rules. She found her footing and kicked his instep, then swept his foot forward from behind him, knocking him off balance enough to get out from under his dagger with only a shallow cut. A thin trickle of blood ran down her throat. Just like old times. She gave him a devious smile.
Carver glared at them.
She kicked Nathaniel in the chest and sent him back allowing her to pull her dagger from her boot, the point of which she now held to his throat menacingly. “Is this any way to welcome me back?”
“Welcome you? Where in the Void have you been, Kahrin? Fancy seeing you back here,” his eyes flicked to Carver from his position on the ground, “with our most junior member. I take it you've been introduced?”
She gave him a generous smile, and then offered him her hand and helped him to his feet. She had no intention of killing him. Then she might have to hold court and deal with their nobles. That would never do. “You might say that. I'm here to help with the scouting. I may even be back. For now. I couldn't stay away from my dearest Arl. What would you do without me? What have you done without me?” She frowned. “We have lot to talk about, Nathaniel. I am a little unhappy with you.”
He raged at her with his eyes, but inclined his head towards the command tent set up towards the center of the camp. “I'll bring you up to speed, Commander. Bring the whelp, he'll need to be briefed. I think you'll be happy with his performance.” Kahrin motioned for Carver, who was still looking a little bewildered, to follow. She found it difficult to not reach out and grasp his fingers in hers, to explain to him that this was … just the way things were. When she was certain Nathaniel couldn't see her she smiled at him, but he only managed a strained half one back.
It will be fine, you'll see. She wanted to tell him. She had known this would be difficult.
This was why she had made the rule when she first arrived in Amaranthine. No relationships with the Wardens under her command. She couldn't think of a way to make herself feel comfortable blurring the line between her duty and her feelings. It had been a disaster before, so she had simply refused to consider the idea of doing it again.
It's a little late for that now, girl.
The three of them walked through the center of the Thaig's main chamber towards the main tent, and Nathaniel placed a hand on the small of her back. Normally she would never have noticed the way they interacted, in a completely casual and almost overly intimate way. Now she found it awkward with Carver standing beside her pretending not to notice. She did a slight side-step to pull out of it.
Nate brought her up to speed on the particular raid they were on, plunging into tunnels and clearing Thaigs that had been formerly lost. This would help build unity with the dwarves of Orzammar and hopefully bring much needed cash back to the Keep to aid with repairs. Plus, he noted, one of those talking darkspawn had been sighted.
Kahrin seethed silently. She hated darkspawn who spoke. They loved to go on. You would think a sword to the throat would suppress the urge to soliloquize at her, but they would just go on and on and on …
Maps were reviewed and strategy laid out. They barely bickered about the best routes to take. She hardly had to yell at him for any disorder in the camp. Things were well under control. No matter how strained things seemed between them they managed this order like a finely-honed blade. It had always been that way since she had made Nathaniel the official Arl of Amaranthine and her Lieutenant and maintained the title of Commander.
The watches had already been assigned for the evening. Nathaniel assured Kahrin that her tent would be made ready immediately just off of the command tent. It was late and there was nothing left to do. The evening meal had already been served but he could arrange for food to be sent to her so she could rest after the journey down to join them. She nodded, biting the inside of her lip subtly as he then turned to Carver, who was trying to be invisible in the corner.
“You, of course are dismissed. Someone will help you find something to eat and you can set up where you would normally.”
Carver looked to her only briefly, and then nodded in salut to them both. He turned to leave as instructed, proving to her that he was very much able to make that separation she was hoping to hold on to.
Don't leave him out to dry.
She took a deep breath.
“Carver Hawke.” She held her chin up, raising one eyebrow, with her arms crossed behind her back.
He stopped mid-stride. She could tell from looking at the back of his head that he was flushing. She also didn't have to look at where Nathaniel was standing over the maps at the table that he was gracing her with a very skeptical look that was reserved for her whenever she followed up any of his orders with thoughts of her own.
A very wide-eyed Carver turned to face her. His face was slightly ashen. “Commander?”
“We've traveled all of this way together. I would be honoured if you would join me for a proper meal. In my tent.” She was in her element here. This camp, like the Keep, was her domain. No shyness, no awkwardness. She didn't have to think of a way to talk to him. She spoke, and he listened, and she knew that would seem normal.
He swallowed hard. “Y-yes, C-comander. I-I would consider it a fine privilege.”
Oh, he was cute when he blushed.
“Excellent. I will see you as soon as you are ready.” He crossed his arms and saluted them both and backed out of the tent.
“Mind telling me what that was all about, Commander?” Nathaniel practically spat the last word as if it tasted foul.
“You were standing here as well as I.” She dared him to defy her already. She had many, many things to discuss with him, but she was hungry and tired, and honestly wanting to be alone in her tent with Carver with as little spectacle as possible.
He grabbed her wrist hard and twisted it. “What are you playing at?”
She tried to break his grip, but it was strong and the simmering rage on his face had her slightly worried. “It's none of your business, Arl Howe,” she hissed.
He released her arm and shoved her away hard. “You're kidding! Tell me you are kidding.”
Kahrin gave him a firm glare. “I said it is none of your business. Void take you, Nathaniel, that hurt.” She flexed her wrist in her gauntlet.
He had her by the throat and had knocked over the map table in seconds. She was pinned under him, trying to swallow against the pressure he had on her windpipe. She knew that if he wanted to he could crush it. The dance had begun again. “I'm sorry I was gone so long,” she managed to whisper while trying to smile to hide any hint of fear that might show on her face. “Now, excuse me. I have dinner plans, my love.” She drew the last word out sarcastically. She had the blade of her knife against his side. It would slice clean through the side of his armor, she knew. She'd done it before. She had no chance to fight him off by force in a fair fight. She also knew that from experience. Their fights were never fair, and was why they had rules. He had just come close to bending them in a way that was not allowed.
He released her, and she gasped, rubbing her throat and springing to her feet. “Good night, my dear Arl,” she said over her shoulder as she saw her way out. She could feel his scowl brooding at her as she slipped through the flap. The cut burned and she could feel the place where he had grabbed her beginning to bruise.
Carver was standing on the other side in a shadow, waiting for her when she stepped out. His face did not look amused in the slightest. “Mind telling me what that was all about? Are you two …?” He raised an eyebrow that suggested all the meaning he couldn't seem to articulate.
“Maker, no.” she barked out a laugh. “I don't …” she paused, looking at his frown. She didn't want to get into this now. “My tent is this way, bring your things.”
“Is that, wise?” He looked worried.
“It's fine, I assure you. Unless you make a huge fuss of it.” She smiled warmly at him.
She let him usher her into her personal tent, where they had what she always called Road Fare, translating into dried meat of whatever animal was handy cooked into some stew. It tasted better if washed down with plenty of wine, and no Deep Roads expedition was ever dry.
Then they were alone, really alone, for the first time. No family, no bar patrons, no darkspawn, no comrades in arm. It was always so quiet when they sat facing one another. She didn't want to talk about swords again. She didn't want to talk about anything unpleasant that had happened since they'd shown up in camp.
“Commander, perhaps I should …” He tentatively touched the cut on her throat, and reflexively her first impulse was to shove his hand away from her blood protectively. But she remembered that it couldn't hurt him.
“You can't call me that in here.” She smiled. “Only out there, in front of everyone else. Until we figure out how this works.”
He smiled, almost shyly. “How what works?” He pulled her to him and started to kiss her, slow and sweet.
She fumbled with the buckles on his armor. Sodding armor. Why not think to remove armor before getting to this point?
He pulled back a little and looked at her curiously, asking his permission with his eyes. She nodded and guided his hands to the buckles of her own cuirass. Soon enough they were off with the plates, and he laid her back gently onto her bedroll, pressing into her, sighing.
Suddenly, for the first time in years Kahrin didn't feel like the walking dead. She didn't wish she'd fallen from the top of Fort Drakon. She felt connected to something other than a tainted sickness that would accelerate her dying and eventually claim her.
She pulled him to her, running her hands over the places where his back dimpled just above his bottom. She wrapped her legs around him and he circled his arms around her and cradled her head in his massive arms and she clung to him and she felt alive, like she was living. He softly kissed her fresh wounds, and traced curious fingers along the silvery lines of her scars and made her shiver and feel whole, not broken. She sighed against his chest and he let out small moans into her neck as he trailed kisses along it, and they crashed into one another with felt like a mutual need.
When it was over, hours later, and she knew that they had precious little time to sleep, she let him fold her to him in his arms and she twined her legs into his. She didn't want to ruin this time with sleep and nightmares that sometimes still came with it for her. She held her head to his chest and listened as his heart facilitated the slow and steady poisoning of his body with every beat and knew that hers did the same. Carver pulled his fingers through her hair and kissed the top of her head. This they shared.
Kahrin was content and happy, and as Carver nuzzled his nose, sighing, against her neck near where her cut had already begun to heal, she had a sense that he was too.
Outside Nathaniel passed by, again, on his watch. The watch he'd relieved the stander of personally just a couple of hours ago. He knew this area was secured already, but he'd felt the need to check it again. And again. He paused, a hand on her tent's flap, and considered, hand on the hilt of his dagger, slipping noiselessly inside, like a shadow to where she and that pup slept. That would be breaking the rules, though. Even though she had apparently decided to break her personal rules.
To the Void with her.
Anger welled in him. This was not the time. Not now.
Nathaniel took his hand away from the tent, frowning.
He stormed away.
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liek, whoa
Angst in the end = awesome
Looking forward to more!
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And, thank you!
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Thank you!
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And I had no control over Carver hitting him. Aedan hit him because Aedan... has ISSUES with his Nate. He's slightly apologetic about it now.
...Slightly :D.
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The really, really sad part is, I don't know if Kahr would get mad if Aedan hit him again or not. She was really freaked out, and is now caught up in this whacked out moral code of ethics she thinks he is playing by.
She is so emotionally traumatized by Origins and Awakening that she really just can't snap outta some of her crap. I mean, she had it right? *rolls eyes*