Title: Apparently Tevinters hate Fereldan winters
Fandom: Dragon Age
Characters/Pairings: Calpernia, Samson; Sampernia
Rating: K+
Summary: The other day Calpernia mumbled something about 'horrible weather in this barbaric country' followed by one of her famous 'In Tevinter' speeches.
Disclaimer: Dragon Age is not mine.
A/N: based on a prompt "I'm cold. Come closer."
Ignoring the wind howling outside Samson places his gauntlet on the floor and inspects every part of his armour. It never looked so... shiny. He's had so much free time lately it feels odd; at least he can take proper care of his weapons and armour. There's not much to do when the Red Templars and the Venatori are stuck in one place because of a snowstorm. It sounds like a joke but there's nothing he can do about it.
Three days have passed, and the weather is only getting worse. At least they have enough food to stay here for a while. Red lyrium gives his templars so much power it doesn't matter if they have to march in the cold through snow. Their Tevinter allies, however...
Samson looks across the room at Calpernia. She has a blanket wrapped around her like a cocoon, she's sitting close to the fireplace but it seems it's not enough. She's staring blankly at the flames as if she was considering moving even closer, wishing for the fire to embrace her. No matter how hard she tries to hide it, he can see her sniffing from time to time. She looks utterly miserable, and Samson idly wonders if this is her very first real winter. Whatever weather they have in Tevinter this time of year, it's nothing compared to Fereldan winters.
It's quite shocking to see that the Venatori can be defeated by something so ordinary like cold weather and snow. The sad truth is that they are ready to fight the Inquisition but they are completely unprepared for this type of weather.
And so they wait, unable to move forward. The Elder One will have to wait for them. Samson isn't sure how they are going to tell the ancient darkspawn magister that his army got stuck in one place because of bad weather conditions.
The other day Calpernia mumbled something about 'horrible weather in this barbaric country' followed by one of her famous 'In Tevinter' speeches. Listening to her, one could think the Imperium is the land of wonders ("In Tevinter, we don't treat magic like a disease"; "In Tevinter, people bathe every day, Samson.").
The problem here is that she will never admit how cold she is, even if it means freezing to death (or possibly setting someone on fire; who knows what she could do, mages are unpredictable). It's been three days, and she spends more and more time sitting in front of the fireplace. Every time she as to go outside to check on the others, she comes back looking like she's been to the deepest parts of the Fade and back. Her skin is so pale even her freckles are barely visible.
It's time to do something or else by the end of the night the Venatori may have an ice statue as their leader.
Samson leaves his armour on the floor, walks across the room to sit by the fireplace. The flames are flickering nicely yet Calpernia is shaking like she was outside in the middle of a blizzard. She doesn't look at him, even though he's sitting right next to her, but not too close. He has to be smart about it.
Or he can simply say the first thing that comes to his mind.
"I'm cold. Come closer."
She whips her head to stare at him. There's finally a bit of colour on her face as she blushes.
"You don't look cold," she narrows her eyes at him.
"I'm freezing," he lies nonchalantly, then reaches out to her. "How about we share your blanket?"
It's not really a surprise when Calpernia hisses like a cat, moving away from him.
"Find your own damn blanket!"
She's fed up with this weather, so he shouldn't push her if her values his life. She gives him a look that tells him he has to be cautious or else something might turn to ashes. Once she accidentally set a pillow on fire. Well, that was partially his fault but still, who would have thought Lady Calpernia can completely lose control of her magic when–
Samson takes a deep breath. No need to think about that now. He should focus on the present moment.
Calpernia proves to be as stubborn as ever. He has to try something different, then.
"You know what would keep us warm?"
She scoffs. "Stop talking right now, you disgusting pig!"
"That smuggler mage friend of yours got me a bottle of Antivan brandy and I was thinking about having a drink with you. But sure, just tell me I'm a disgusting pig instead..." he lets out a sigh.
She tilts her head up to glare murderously at him. And she might have called him something terrible in Tevene. Samson feels like he's going to be fluent in this language soon, at least when it comes to swearing.
"How long we might be stuck here?" she asks, hugging her knees tighter to her chest.
Samson shrugs. "It just depends on when this storm dies down. I'm sure it won't be long," he adds quickly in a voice he hopes sounds reassuring.
Minutes pass, and when Samson is this close to suggesting she may set this whole place on fire only if it helps her keep warm, Calpernia speaks again.
"Go get that bottle," she says quietly, staring at the flames. It seems she's warmed up to the idea of (getting massively drunk) having a drink like two civilised people, and Samson is happy to oblige..
Some time later, when the bottle is half empty, Calpernia finally forgets about the cold.