Author's Notes: A few drabbles for the original Dragon Age as part of a writing exercise - each one was inspired by and written in the span of one song. Four songs, four drabbles, each one titled after its song.
Smooth - Zevran/Female Warden
He grasped her hand lightly as they twisted through the winding street, laughter drifting over his shoulder, until he suddenly stopped in front of a little shop tucked into the wall.
"And this, my Gray Warden, is the shop where I saw those delightful leather boots I tragically decided to leave until after my contract was complete." He smiled mischeviously, the sunlight catching his hair and making it shine like gold. "Alas, I shall never reward myself with such a treat, for I have sadly failed in that duty."
She smirked, pressing Zevran against the wall and sneaking a leg between his thighs. "I think you got a fitting reward for your efforts," she said, leaning close and trailing her tongue along the edge of his ear.
In a blur of movement he twisted his limbs and dipped her low, leering down. "My dear lady, what could be more valuable, more dangerous, more exciting than you?"
She kept smiling even as his lips ravished hers.
Sour Times - Leliana/Marjolaine
Marjolaine looked down, eyes soft and cruel. "This is who you are, my sweet dove," she whispered. "You remember the thrill of the game, the subtle seduction, the delicious victory of silencing a mark."
She twined her hand around the younger's fingers, pulled her close. Her lips parted, mouth moving against her former protege's still face. "No one knows you like I do," she murmured, voice low and filled with memories and promises.
The lips pressed against her ear, lingering hotly. "Nobody loves you like I do."
Leliana jerked awake, sweating. Even in death, her former lover still haunted her dreams.
Possum Kingdom - Cullen/Mage
She was in his head.
They all were in his head.
Everytime they looked up at him, faces contorted with anger, or shock, or sometimes fear, all he could see were the bright eyes and soft lips of her.
So each time he ended it quickly: a swift sword between the ribs or a twist of the neck, always brutally efficient.
Each one he carried back to the lake, to where he first laid eyes on her. Around the lake, in unmarked graves, all of them lay silent and still. All of them that were and were not her.
And with each death, he felt his blood sing, felt himself calling to her against his will, felt himself slipping under her siren song. His angel, his madness.
Fuushun - The Whole Group
"So, you think the fish in that pond ever look at the sky and go, 'Oh, there's another pond up there, I wonder what that water feels like?' and then try to jump out?"
"They'd be sodding stupid. Can't swim inna sky."
"I remember a tale about a fish that loved the sky so much it sprouted wings and flew away into the air."
"Please, not another of your children's stories. 'Tis not good to dwell on the creatures we just had for lunch."
"Then perhaps we should dwell on more pleasant things. I for one am quite content to dwell upon our senior mage's wondrous bosom."
"You are incorrigible and a nuisance. I shall think twice about buying treats again if you keep this up."
... *Splash*
"The cookies are more worthwhile than that fool."
