Writer's block, dragon age being played through like 5 times, 2:43 AM standard time and here we are.
Hopefully this will have some kind of plot? HA no it's probably fluff. Gotta love fluff. Maybe some lemons later on. ;)
Anyyway sorry if it's shit ^^
The night is cold and rouses hot vapours of breaths to reveal themselves to the humans and beasts alike which they tried to to escape from. Nothing is going right, nothing could go right anymore, not for the team which so confidently thought they were going to save the information broker and get rid of the last few guards before the evening approached. The orange light and familiar warmth tries to work together to console the melancholy fighters as it crackles away, slowly losing its own hope. The one female doesn't speak to the other three males, deciding that she'd rather not let them see her in such a weak state. "Should we get back to camp?" Despite the damp mood, Dorian is the first to pipe up and cautiously steals a glance at the female leader from the protection of Iron bull's torso before him. A breath is stolen from the rogue as she rises to her full height before turning towards the black plumes of smoke which were a telltale sign of a camp. The remainder of her team, only dare to stay silent and unmoving, gazing at the usually beautiful thick white mane which pools just below the female's powerful shoulder blades, now marred with flakes of red, green and burgundy and pulled into a high ponytail.
Bull is next to rise, staying a good amount away from the fellow qunari, knowing all too well about her destructive nature which she seemed to be able to gain when provoked. Both Cole and Dorian take the rogue's speechless advice, and soon enough,milky blue eyes are entranced by the slivers of orange over the flakey black ash. Akane doesn't bother to look back at her fellow rogue and mage, but instead continues to pace forwards, hastily making her way to the plume of grey smoke. "Has it ever occurred to you that we're not going towards an inquisition camp?" Dorian queries boldly, yet still protected on the other side of Iron bull once caught up.
A sudden breeze that only the inquisitor herself didn't feel must have torn through the treeline as she turns towards him, amber eyes locking onto his own. "Dorian" Her gaze doesn't falter. "Does it look like I give a single toss about whether we're approaching an Inquisition camp or not?" Silence washes over the mage, praying to the maker that he'd control the herald herself. "Because right now I'd very much enjoy to rip someone's spine from their shoulder blades and gouge out their eyes for them to see when I tear through their stomach with the makeshift sword that I would have just made." The low roar doesn't fail to make the poor mage flinch in fear and quiver behind the male qunari warrior.
Dorian stays silent, attempting to control the sensation of fear scalding his gut and paces onwards. "Good." She responds tersely before picking up the pace and advancing on even further. "She misses her daggers." Bull whispers, noting the empty spot on the inquisitor's back where her beloved two blades were usually perched. "Did she lose them in battle?" Dorian queries, still painfully weary of the inquisitor's prior outburst a few moments ago. Despite Cole even sidling up to her, the female doesn't look or engage conversation with the spirit and instead gives him a low grunt of acknowledgement.
Calloused hands gripe their way onto the even more calloused rock, tugging at the small blades of grass when gravity tries to pull her back down to the ground. The crackling of a fire is now more evident and even the familiar warmth began to gently grace them. Much to Dorian's luck, the camp is from the inquisition and no violence had erupted from the qunari female who had taken her place before the hearth, her head resting on her left knee. "Aren't you going to get any rest boss?" Bull inquires while placing a heavy hand on her sturdy shoulders.
"I will soon Bull." She responds, her amber orbs not leaving the orange flames. "We're leaving back for skyhold tomorrow morning so if you hear any horns blowing, make sure that you get the mounts from the men."
"Yes boss." Quietly, the warrior bids his farewells before slinking back into the tent which he shared with Dorian.
She was not content. Growing to her full height, she rises from the dying fireplace before her feet moved by themselves. Then, a mass of dark brown fur, the coal black snout, the giant clawed paws grace her vision. She even heard the occasional bear like grunts, the snuffles and even the odd scrape. A light grey fist metst the hard brown fur before colliding with the tough skin and instantly, beady black eyes met fiery amber ones. The rogue doesn't look away, she wants the fight and so did the bear. The beast lunges, toppling the large qunari, clear saliva splashing onto the female's face allowing her to become even more riled. Leather collides with a soft underbelly, shoving the bear forwards forcefully and earning a stagger from the animal. White flashes and searing pain jolted into the inquisitor's right arm. She allows the animal to do it, finally finding an odd sense of relief from it as the relentless animal becomes as riled on her blood as a templar would on red lyrium.
She too feels the same bloodthirst as the bear does, the same animalistic desires which fogged over her mind back when she fought with a qunari squadron for the conclave. The memories of her fallen team is a knife in her gut, twisting around with no mercy or remorse. Or was that just the bear's heavy black claws, sinking into her hardened stomach? Her desires grow and with one swift movement, one black horn was hooked around the bear's neck. She jerks her head, experimentally almost earning the bear's red tongue to lull out past its black lips. Again and again, she does it, until the bear's wheezed gasps escape its mouth. Then, finally, the beast drops dead, thumping lifelessly onto the grass below and taking her with it.
She huffs, exhausted and in pain. The wild look in her eyes finally dies down a fraction and then finally the horrific ache in her neck grasps her attention along with the searing sting on her stomach and arm. The warmth of her own blood doesn't scare her when it trickles down her body and stains her tunic and she busies herself with getting the bear's neck out of her horns. The beautiful part of her body are like those of a dragon, the horn growing up and back like most qunari but then branching out and ending in few prongs curled forwards on the top branch, matching the lower one which juts out more creating something like a sword rack behind her head.
With a slight stagger, the herald wrenches the elfroot that she had just found from the ground and before the ram which was cantering away from her could blink, the waxy green plant was between her pointed canines and reduced to a thick paste. The thick green liquid slithers out of her mouth and into her hands before being rubbed against her skin, making a red and green mess over the grey. The pain reduces to a tolerable thrum and bandage from the camp could suffice for the bleeding. No noise emerges when she comes back to the camp, leaving the dagger wielding fighter to dejectedly drag her feet back to her own tent, the one that she shares with nobody. "You're hurting, confused and have a giant hole inside of your heart." The sudden whispering voice of Cole appears out of nowhere, earning a soft grunt from the tall Qunari. "What do you mean?" Fiery orbs cast onto the blonde spirit, not softening at all. "You have a hole in your heart, gaping, yearning, needing." The blonde's response slips from him in a hushed whisper, as if he doesn't want to rouse any anger from the Inquisitor. "The inside of you is red, threatening to hurt yourself, the blame only rests on you… Yet you're the one who declared it."
"What's wrong with me?!" Adaar nearly cries, frustration seeping out from her bared fangs earning a small jump from the boy.
"Your yearning is roused by those around you." Cole continues, keeping his distance. "They're all in couples, it makes you realise that you realise what you don't have with you."
"I miss her." Adaar remarks with a small whisper.
"We're going home tomorrow dawn are we not?" A well spoken voice emerges from the quiet background sound of the forest.
"Yes." The qunari responds, not bothering about the blood seeping from her arm and stomach.
"Anywho, goodnight Adaar." He yawns, retreating back to his tent, and bull beside him.
"Goodnight inquisitor." Cole states before his skin is one with the background of the forest.
Platinum rays glints off of skyhold proudly and filled with promise as the four large horses softly canter towards the large gates. With a short bark of orders, Adaar swiftly dismounts, handing the reigns to a nearby stable hand and even before the rest of her team could even slip off of their mounts, the qunari rogue is off, sprinting wildly up the sets of stairs towards her chambers, and Lady Montilyet's office. Sparing no time or patience to clean herself up and adorn herself in a set of formal clothes, the ashen haired quanri's palm slams on the first door, then the next.
A small, high pitched bark graces the tall woman's ears followed by an overjoyed squeak from Josephine. "Josephine!" Adaar beams, picking her love up in a tight embrace and gives her soft pecks all over her face, which is easily ruined by a loud fit of chuckles from behind the antivan. With a short peck to the lips, Adaar set Josephine back down again, her eyes casting onto the three boys behind her. "Please excuse my brothers." She apologises, earning a small smile from the inquisitor before her exquisite bun graces the Herald's vision. "Laurien! Antoine! Sergio!" The bark escapes from the usually collected Antivan, stilling the three males before her. "What?" They all chorus, piercing grey eyes trained intently on the inquisitor herself.
A defeated sigh escapes from the beautiful Ambassador as her set of eyes is added to the three already trained on her. "So this is her, Josephine?" Sergio, the eldest, Interrogates, a mixture of awe and intrigue clouding his eyes, making them all the more piercing. "Yes." The ambassador is suddenly at her side, a soft weight tightening subtly around the taller's waist. Akane accepts the invitation, gently slipping her arm over the Montilyet's shoulder and offered her softest smile. "She's... taller than I expected." He comments, earning a soft laugh from both women.
"What?"
"It seems like every Montilyet I have met says so." The corners of the Rogue's eyes crease before offering a small bow to the man. "It's an honour to meet you Sergio."
"And to you too Inquisitor." A small sigh fills the atmosphere and the arm around her waist tightens a fraction.
"I hope that you are enjoying Skyhold?"
"Looking at the mountains is bliss." Antoine is the first to speak, leaning back in his seat contently, earning a nod of approval from his other brother.
"I quite enjoy looking at your wide selection of your beasts." The statement slips from Laurien's mouth casually and eloquently as he nods in approval. "Which one is your favourite?" Her interest is piqued, Adaar quizzes the young antivan, earning a soft chuckle from her lover beside her.
"I was quite amused by the Avaar war nug which you have."
"Lord Schmooples the third usually does grasp the interest of our guests." Akane's remark earns another giggle from Josephine and a warm smile from Laurien himself. "Lord schmooples?" He questions, amusement struggling to be concealed in his voice.
"It's a long story as to where he had gotten his name." Akane chuckles lightheartedly before letting slip a small yawn.
"Tired?" Sergio queries, noticing the slightly concerned expression adorning his older sister's face.
"Sadly, yes. I have just gotten back from a mission after riding from ferelden for a day." The qunari replies, a small smile adorning her features.
"I think that you should rest for a while my love and we'll invite you to our room for dinner." Josephine suddenly pipes up, smiling up at her love who smiles affectionately back "Very well." Sergio's agreement hung in the air for few moments before the blood spattered inquisitor leaves, with Josephine by her side. "We'll get Varric to call for you at dinnertime." With her last request and the thunk of a door, the group of brothers are left to their own devices.
As quickly as they had entered the room, Adaar's armour is stripped from her body, revealing her blood soaked smalls. "What happened?!" The yelp easily leaves the antivan's mouth as five soft fingers press against the stinging red lines which drag down the hard expanses of grey flesh. "I was annoyed and... ran into a bear." She replies, with a weak smile gracing her features.
"Why?!" Her tone almost cuts into the poor qunari as her lover pushes her back onto the bed.
"Josephine just leave it." Adaar urges, while softly wrapping her strong arms around the beautiful antivan. "I'm sorry." The ambassador simply sighs at the rogue's apology before returning the hug. "Very well, my love."
"Shall we bathe together?" The qunari queries, a small seductive smile tugging at her lips.
"We shall." The antivan responds before being scooped up by the tall qunari.
Hot water is poured, candles lit and clothes stripped while the refreshing scent of lavender courses through both of the womens' nostrils. "I've missed you so much." The rogue is the first one to pipe up, gently tugging the antivan onto her stomach. The sensation of their bodies together is delightful, warm and comforting. "I've missed you too. Sleeping at night is hard with you not beside me." The antivan agrees while her gentle fingers rub against Akane's taught back.
"How long is your family staying for?"
"Just a week." Blackness slowly fills Akane's vision as her eyelids slide shut at the content feeling of Josephine's warm body over hers.
By the time they leave the bath, the water had lost its pleasant warmth, earning a small groan of disapproval from the two. "Better?" Grogginess slurs the inquisitor's accent before the two tumble into the large orlesian bed content with their cleanliness. "Much." A content agreement tumbles from the pillowy lips of the montilyet before they are met by Adaar's own in a soft kiss. Little to no heat advances through it and is reduced to small chaste pecks in a matter of moments.
"By the way, I forgot to ask." Adaar begins, allowing Josephine to gently trace the imperial cloud tattoo which covers her waist.
"Hm?" The antivan responds, the warm trails of her fingers suddenly freezing in their tracks.
"What am I to you?" Cloud grey orbs search fiery amber for an explanation. "Well it's just that your parents have been looking for a suitor for you and they may not prove of us courting, as I am a qunari and such…" The montilyet simply sighs, snuggling even closer to her love. For once, the sharp tongued Montilyet is speechless, attempting to calm her vivace paced heart down and come up with an articulated answer. "You… You... You are my world, you're someone so important to me, so treasured in my heart, someone who makes me feel happy, feel safe, feel at home, someone who helps me sleep at night (aside from a literal sense). You're the person who makes me feel truly wanted, like a noblewoman, like I'm worth something and I'm beautiful. To me, I think that you are my soulmate and I'd be a fool to ever let go of you." Red tinges grey skin and the bronze melds onto the titanium even more. "I love you so, so much." Adaar breathes, stealing few gentle kisses from her beautiful love.
By the time Adaar had awoken from her peaceful and gentle slumber, the sun was already setting and a warm glow had set on her body. Their legs are intertwined and Josephine's perfect bronze body is nestled against her own, being dwarfed in size. The balcony doors are open, allowing in a cool summer's breeze and the remainder of the natural light is dimming down into that regal golden orange which Josephine adores. "Did you sleep well my love?" Adaar questions, once feeling the soft shift from the beauty's lithe yet curvaceous body.
"I feel rested at the least." The response is groggy, yet still thick with the beautiful antivan accent which she always has.
"One day, I'm going to marry you one summer, and when the sun sets, we'll kiss at the altar and bask in the beautiful light that we love so much." Josephine lets out a small giggle at the statement from her qunari lover and gracefully lifts her head to see the remaining shards of light fall past the mountain.
The two lie in a sense of accomplished peace for a while, Adaar stroking the beautiful waterfall of chocolate locks which spill so effortlessly down the exotic bronze of the ambassador's skin and in turn the former bard alternating between tracing the cloud tattoos -over her waist and taught stomach- and nuzzling her head into the crook of the inquisitor's neck. "You never really told me why you got these tattoos." The beauty finally speaks, shattering the comfortable silence which they were in. "Would you like to know?" The fondness doesn't shy away from Adaar's tone and a relaxed, genuine smile graces her features. "It seems like it would be an interesting story to hear my love."
"Very well." With a small yawn, a strong arm slithers behind Josephine's back, gently caressing her as the qunari stares up at the ceiling. "It was when I was a young woman, having come of age a year ago and attaining a well kept job through orlais (Mainly val royeaux) as a personal guard with a fleet of friends. After a while of being a guard for various different people, I decided to travel north with them for a year. At the end of the year, we all disbanded, sovereigns in our purses, hearts set on fate and eyes seeking for more of the world's knowledge. The night before we left the north, we all got the same tattoo inked on us, so if we do meet again later on in life, we'd be able to recognise one another." eyes closed but still agog, the former bard nuzzles deeper into the grey dip and exhales contently. "Have you seen any of them?" She questions quietly.
"No, some might have gone back to being guards or whatnot, but I haven't stumbled upon them so far." Gently, Adaar shakes her head to rid the stinging memories of her old teammates joking around, then them parting ways, bidding cheerful farewells and promises to write. "Let's get up, the torches are being lit and we don't want to keep your family from waiting."
"I guess not." The tanned beauty agrees placidly before gently kissing the herald- her herald's face, the one who's now sedate and happy.
