Title: Intervention

Fandom: Dragon Age

Characters/Pairings: Calpernia, Samson; Sampernia

Rating: K

Summary: Samson considers himself a fairly tolerant person. Well, he used to live in Kirkwall, the city that's weird in many different ways. But this! This is too much even for him. It's time to do something. It's time for an intervention. / Samson and Calpernia have a very serious talk about a very serious problem.

Disclaimer: Dragon Age is not mine, sadly.

A/N: based on a prompt "I think we need to talk." Originally posted on tumblr.

„I think we need to talk."

Calpernia looks up and glares and him with annoyance. "About what?"

"About your problem."

"What problem? I don't have a problem!" she protests. This won't be an easy battle.

Samson didn't say anything when it started because he considers himself a fairly tolerant person. Well, he used to live in Kirkwall, the city that's weird in many different ways.

But this! This is too much even for him. It's time to do something. It's time for an intervention.

Samson lets out a sigh. This won't be easy.

"I'm talking about your nugs."

Calpernia collects different things, like books or teacups, her desk is always covered with papers. But her chamber has always been clean, all her things nicely organised.

Now the room is filled with pink squeaking animals. They are everywhere. Samson could at least try to understand if Calpernia had dogs or cats, or any other pet that wasn't a giant hairless rat. She considers nugs cute; in his opinion, they look rather creepy.

It all started when she returned from a mission brining three nugs with her. As she explained, she found them after they were abandoned by their mother, so she felt an obligation to take care of them. And suddenly everything was about nugs.

Once Samson accidentally tripped over one, Calpernia yelled at him for half an hour, threatening to burn him alive. And he's been banished to his quarters since these blighted things not only live in her room, but also sleep in her bed.

This madness has to end.

"Yes, what about them?" Calpernia asks, completely oblivious to the problem.

She's sitting on the carpet, cradling a nug in her arms. Samson's fairly sure she has at least ten, but he's lost count some time ago. They just appear. How and when, it's a mystery.

Three nugs are sitting by her side, two more are sleeping on the bed. There's also another one in the corner, while a different one is chewing on her staff like it was a toy.

And yet, Calpernia can't see what's the problem here.

"Do you want to attack the Inquisition with a nug army?"

Samson's sarcastic tone disappears instantly when he sees the expression on Calpernia's face.

"That wasn't a suggestion, you know."

"I know," she replies, blushing slightly. "I'd never let them fight! They are too vulnerable."

"Why do you like them so much? You do realise dwarves eat nugs. Oh come on, don't cover its ears!" he promptly adds when Calpernia gasps in shock, pressing the nug to her chest.

"Don't listen to him! He's a mean old templar that doesn't care about cute little nugs!"

Samson lets out another sigh. It's like talking to a wall.

"You need to do something about them," he begins again. "People are talking. It's enough that I had to listen to Erimond's whining when one of them ate his shoe."

"Don't mention that weasel! Poor Darinius was sick after eating that piece of garbage that idiot calls his boots."

"You named a nug Darinius?" Samson can't even pretend he's surprised.

"For your information, Darinius was the first Archon and founder of the Tevinter Imperium. That's a fine name for a fine nug," she nods her head. "Little Darinius is a natural leader, just like the person he's named after."

Then something changes in her eyes and Calpernia smiles in a way that makes Samson brace himself for whatever is coming next. He's seen this particular smile before, it means trouble.

"Look at that one over there," with the most innocent smile Calpernia points to a nug sleeping in the corner. It seems impossible that she can tell them apart, they all look the same, at least for Samson. This nug, however, is significantly smaller and thinner than the other ones, like a small kid who's always sick while his friends go outside and play.

"I don't know how should I call him. I think I'll give him a more traditional name. Like Raleigh."

Samson feels his cheek twitch as Calpernia stares at him with a proud smile. He slowly counts to ten in his thoughts, praying for patience.

"You have to do something about these nugs. You can't keep them here forever."

"I can't just abandon them!" she protests with so much passion Samson nearly believes her. "They'll die without me!"

"They are animals," he begins but stops mid-sentence. It's obvious she won't listen to rational arguments, he has to try something else instead.

"What if you find a nice family that can adopt them? This is not a good place to keep nugs. What if the Inquisitor attacks us? You need to think about their safety."

Samson expects it won't be easy to convince Calpernia. After all, she's a little obsessed with these things (to put it mildly). When it comes to her nugs, it's like her mind is completely confused, all reason lost.

"Besides, imagine what will happen when the Elder One's dragon…"

"No dragons anywhere near my nugs!" she exclaims, holding the nug in a tight embrace. The animal starts to wiggle but she ignores his squeaks.

"All I'm saying is that you should think what's best for them."

This crazy tactic apparently works because Calpernia finally admits the Venatori and Red Templar camp is not the best place for nugs. Impossible happens, and eventually there's not a single hairless rat around. Only Calpernia's room still vaguely smells like nugs but Samson is determined to ignore this detail.

Two weeks later Venatori agents return with a captured nuggalope. When Calpernia casually mentions it looks kind of cute, Samson is sure he'll lose his mind very soon.

A/N2: I could have written something angsty but nah.