Author's Note:
First of all, I own nothing! All characters and lore are property of Bioware.
I owe a big thanks to Elendraug and Remedy for Chaos, as they inspired me greatly and are the only other authors (that I know of) who have written M Rated fanfiction about this pairing. I also need to thank ~layclay of DeviantArt for her beautiful artwork of these two called "Other Ways".
And with that said, I hope you all enjoy!
Saemus had always been one to wander, and it was during one of his many trips to the Wounded Coast that he met the man who would change his life forever.
A lone Qunari was trekking up the coast toward him. He immediately ducked behind a bush, not halting to consider that the creature may have already seen him. When he peered out of the foliage, he saw the ox-man looking at a large paper in his hands, who then raised his gaze and proceeded closer.
He was nearly on top of Saemus when he stopped, smelling the air.
"Do not hide human, it will not save you."
Saemus stood straight, seeing now that the creature was a giant, far larger than he had thought from afar. His hair was white, resting beneath a set of great horns. His gray skin was painted crimson, with dye or blood, Saemus wasn't sure, and he donned several pieces of golden jewelry.
"I'm sorry, I… I like to walk the coast sometimes." He told the ox-man, "I mean you no harm."
"Your purpose is of no concern to me, but do not stand in my way." He moved around him, and Saemus stood for a moment, bewildered.
That was enough of an adventure for him, and so he began the long journey home. That night Saemus lay awake, thinking of his encounter with the alien. He knew little about the Qunari, but quickly concluded that his father's library would have something on them. Saemus soon discovered what an understatement that was.
One book led to another, and after reading for several hours, he fell asleep.
He awoke to a hand on his shoulder, it was morning, and as he lifted his head he saw that the hand belonged to his father.
"My son, what were you doing with these?" The Viscount asked, referring to the many controversial texts that were littered around him.
"Hmm?" He roused, "Oh, I was… The Qunari are in the city now, so I thought I should study them."
"Yes, I suppose it is wise to be prepared for what we're up against." The Viscount mused, "Good work, son."
He stroked his boy's head before retreating to whatever duties awaited him. Saemus wasted no time getting ready, and after slipping past the Seneschal, he was off to the coast again.
After an hour long walk, he found the Qunari again, certain that it was the same one he had met the day before. This time, he approached it willingly.
"Hello again, human." It spoke.
"Shanedan" Saemus said, speaking the alien's tongue. The Qunari turned sharply, and for a moment the boy feared he may strike him, but he simply stared, his expression unreadable.
"You speak the Qunlat." It's shadowy eyes narrowed at him.
"Yes, I… I know only a few words." He confessed, then extended his hand, "My name is Saemus Dumar."
"The son of the Viscount." The Qunari added.
"I… Yes." Saemus said, withdrawing his hand. His head lowered a bit at the recognition.
"Does it displease you?" The giant asked.
"No, but… When people realize who I am… they treat me differently."
"I have known your identity since our meeting yesterday." The Qunari told him, "It earns you no special treatment from me."
Saemus was silent for a moment. Oddly grateful, he finally said, "Thank you. Would you… tell me your name?"
"I am Ashaad."
"You are a scout, then?"
"Yes." It began to move away from him.
"But scouts usually travel in groups." Saemus noted, following the ox-man, "Why are you alone?"
"Because my task requires only one."
"And what task is that?"
"I am making maps of this area for the Arishok."
"I see." He remarked.
"Have you no more questions?"
"I have many." Saemus smiled.
"Perhaps I have answers." The Qunari told him.
This continued for many days. Ashaad would walk and make notes to his maps while Saemus followed, somewhat like a lost child. Most of the time they were silent, but occasionally he would ask a question, which almost always received an answer. Other days the human would prattle on about nothing in particular, driving the horned one mad.
On the seventh day of traveling with the scout, he asked Ashaad about more intimate matters.
"You mate, obviously. Otherwise your people wouldn't be so numerous." Saemus began, and the creature glanced back at him awkwardly, "But under what pretense? Is it arranged, or divided by branch? Is there some sort of bond involved?"
"You ask many different things." Ashaad told him, "We mate in order to breed, based on matches that will create the strongest offspring. It is structured. We also create bonds, not only to those we mate with, but with our brethren and friends."
"So, do you mate for any other purpose? Or is it only to procreate?"
"During celebrations, things can become… out of hand." Ashaad said, "And in some instances the people may mate to relive stress. Otherwise, we brawl to dissolve tension, so there is no other need for intimacy."
"What about love?"
"What is your question?"
"Do the Qunari have love?" Saemus asked him, and Ashaad halted.
"Yes, it is comparable to the bond I spoke of." He said, "Humans seem to have a different bond with many people, but in the Qun it is either one or the other. I have a bond with many of my people, and were I using your tongue, I would say that I love them."
"Could you ever have a bond with a Viddathari?"
"If that Viddathari were worthy." The Qunari answered, then turned, "Why?"
"I would feel honored to be bound to you." Saemus said, a light scarlet tingeing his cheeks.
"You are not Viddathari."
"I would like to be."
"You are imekari, a child." The Qunari spoke.
"Do not call me that!" Saemus snapped, "I know it is an insult."
"No, were you older it would be demeaning. But you are not. And it matters little." Ashaad said, "You wish me to be something I am not."
"No, Ashaad, I wish nothing but for you to accept me as I am." Saemus said, tears brimming his eyes.
The Qunari stepped towards him, his eyes sincere, "I already have."
Saemus stared into his eyes, they were dark, and opaque with an amber ring in the center that he'd never stood close enough to see. In them, he searched for a reason, any reason to stop him from doing something that would probably be of great disrespect to them both, but he couldn't. He pushed forward, closing the space between them, and let their lips come crashing together. The scout braced his arms forcefully, and at first Saemus believed he would push him away, but he didn't, and his grip gradually softened; Their lips hadn't parted.
When they broke it was mutual. Saemus immediately touched his mouth, knowing that what he'd done was foreign to the ox-man, if not insulting.
When he looked up, he saw the Qunari avert his gaze, refusing to look at him.
"Ashaad, I-"
"You need to leave, human." The scout spoke, "You are in the way of my task."
And so he did, not daring to speak again.
That night, sleep evaded the Qunari. Intimacy among the people was generally overlooked, but the cost of such closeness with an outsider was great. He had no choice but to tell the Arishok, knowing full well that for disgracing his blood in such a way, he himself would likely be executed once he completed his task.
When he went to report the next day, he found the Arishok speaking with a human. He greatly resembled the boy who had followed him along the coast. They weren't of kin, he guessed, but the dark hair and stark blue eyes were relatable. He recognized this person as the one called Hawke, accompanied by the strange looking elf who spoke their tongue.
"Here is one of the Ashaad." The scout stepped forward at his commander's behest, "Hawke was just speaking about the Tal-Vashoth he has encountered on the coast. Have you anything to report?"
"Yes, Arishok." Ashaad said, "But it is in regard to my own honor, and of no relation to the Tal-Vashoth."
"Speak" He demanded, and the scout complied.
"I told you in my reports of the human who followed me during my task," He began, "I allowed him to come to me in a gesture that their kind considers to be intimate."
Hawke sensed that the Arishok was not pleased, though he had never known the opposite to be true either.
"Improper relations with your people is not a common problem, Hawke." Their leader said, "The normal punishment for such is execution, as it is a sin under the Ariqun for a Qunari to soil itself with one who is not equally avowed." The leader paused, "Matters involving your people and mine are becoming more frequent, so I will ask: What would you do in my place?"
Hawke then looked to the scout, and asked, "What do you mean when you say that you partook in an intimate gesture?"
"He pressed his mouth against mine, and I did not move to distance myself."
Based on the expressions of the Qunari surrounding them, he guessed the scout would be taunted about this later. He wondered why someone would do such a thing as to kiss a Qunari, or more likely, why a Qunari would tolerate such a display. But he didn't have much time to ponder that now.
"And who is it that kissed you?"
"Saemus Dumar, the offspring of the one you call Viscount."
Fenris furrowed his brow and muttered, "Be careful, Hawke."
Hawke knew Saemus, he was adventurous and curious, but he had a better head than his father would admit. Acting reckless was something he didn't do needlessly.
"I understand that you risked a great deal allowing such a thing," Hawke said, "But so did he. If someone in his position were known to be fraternizing with Qunari…" The mage sighed, "There is an equal chance that his life is in danger as well as yours."
The creature's eyes widened, and that was when Hawke knew: They cared a great deal for each other, even if they'd yet to realize it.
Hawke turned to the great horned man who sat atop his throne, "I know Saemus, Arishok, your Ashaad is keeping company with someone I greatly respect."
"And as you have mine, Hawke, I will trust your word." He then looked to the scout, "You will continue your task as assigned, and associate with the human at your own discretion."
Ashaad bowed deeply, not only to the Arishok but to Hawke as well. It was as if a weight had been taken from his chest.
Hawke left the compound with the mind to find Saemus. He'd seen him frequent the Hanged Man on occasion, usually after a disagreement with his father became public. It was just dangerous enough to draw him, but safe enough to be a reprieve.
And just as he'd hoped, the Viscount's son was sitting at the bar, brooding over a drink. He wore a hood, but Hawke knew well enough who he was.
"Excuse me, sir." Hawke approached him, but he didn't respond. Laying a hand on his shoulder, the boy flinched, and Hawke lowered his voice, "We need to talk. Would you come upstairs with me?"
Saemus nodded cautiously and followed the taller man upstairs. Instinctively, Hawke went to Varric's room, believing that the dwarf wouldn't mind his presence. On his way, he nodded to Fenris for him to pursue them, and he did. The elf kept his distance though, and stayed just by the top of the stairs.
Once they were inside, Hawke turned, and they stood face to face.
"I spoke to the Arishok today." Hawke started.
"Yes, I heard that you visit him often." Saemus said, trying to sound quaint. He'd had plenty of time to learn the proper way to speak to nobility, and though Hawke had earned his prestige quickly, he'd made sure to keep tabs on his public actions.
"While I was there, he was confronted by a scout who knew you." At his words, Saemus blanched, but Hawke continued, "Apparently you two have become quite close during your time together on the Wounded Coast."
"Hawke, stop, it's not what you think-" Saemus said, dropping the pretense.
"Then explain it to me." He said eagerly.
"I… He and I, we're just..." The boy was a terrible liar, and he knew it. Saemus exhaled sharply, "How much do you know exactly?"
"I know that you kissed him, and that he didn't stop it." Hawke replied, "Maybe even welcomed it."
"Oh, Maker… Hawke, please, you can't tell anyone!" Saemus pleaded, "I love him, even though we're different. I know you can't understand what that's like, but please-"
"Saemus, I know exactly what that's like." Hawke told him. The mage's eyes found Fenris, waiting by the stairs, and Saemus followed his gaze.
"You do." Saemus swallowed, "I see now." He paused, turning to Hawke, "Are you two…?"
The older man simply nodded.
"That's wonderful." Saemus smiled softly, but the light faded, "And you don't have to concern yourself with this. Ashaad doesn't want to see me."
Hawke opened his mouth to argue, to tell him how Ashaad's face had fell when he heard that Saemus could have been hurt, but he decided against it; Such words would be far more valuable from the tongue of his lover.
Then Saemus asked, "I should guess that he told the Arishok of our encounter." And the boy sighed, the way one does with a heavy heart, "Did he seem upset?"
"Yes." With his answer, Saemus shut his eyes in pain, "But I think I may have said something that helped to sway him."
The boy's eyes opened slowly, watching Hawke intently.
The mage explained, "It was a simple comment, I can't even remember it, but I'd like to think it helped."
"Thank you." He chuckled in disbelief, then said, "It's nice to know someone's on my side, even if he's the only one."
"Of course I'm with you." Hawke grinned, "You're always determined to be a thorn in someone's side. It reminds me of myself a bit."
"The way I see it, as the son of the Viscount my actions will be dissected and criticized regardless of which stance I take." Saemus said, "So I might as well try and do some good."
"You are wise beyond your years, Saemus Dumar." Hawke said, shaking his head, "But we've talked long enough. If anyone sees us, or Maker forbid, hears us…"
Saemus nodded, and Hawke touched his shoulder as he went, retreating back down the stairs.
Fenris came in a moment later, and questioned, "May I ask what you said to him?"
Hawke told him willingly, though he spared the part about their relationship, as Fenris wasn't one to acknowledge openly.
The next day, Ashaad was alone on the coast. And the same was true for the day after that as well. By the fourth day, he was growing mad with the silence, and was furious to admit that he missed the human greatly. Saemus, he corrected himself. A creature such as him did not deserve to be called a human, as he was nothing like the vashedan swines.
His thoughts were muddled, and it was sunset before he'd finished the day's task. He cursed himself for his affliction, and again his mind strayed to the moment that had caused the mess. The boy stepped forward, pressing those wretched lips against his own. It was vile. And he wanted nothing more than to feel it again.
The scout's chest ached badly, and a heavy sigh escaped him. He looked toward the city and saw that Kirkwall was visible, lightly aglow in the darkening sky. He'd made his decision.
