A/N: I remember thinking to myself the other day "There is too much Dragon Age related angst on !". I happen to know most of you lot were with me in the KOTOR fandom, and remember all the fun we had there? We need to have more fun fics, people! Heh. Anyway, here's my contribution. This is going to be a short story, two or three chapters long. There was just too much oppurtunity to leave it as a one-shot! There are so many quotes from different places here. Try to figure 'em out! ;D
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"In the evenin', I gotta roam, can't sleep in the city of neon and chrome. Feels too damn much like home, where the Spanish babies cry. So let's find a bar. So dark we forget who we are. Where all the scars from the 'nevers' and 'maybes' die...You're sweet, wanna hit the street? Wanna wail at the moon like a cat in heat?"
~ Mimi Marquez, RENT.All That Jazz
Chapter One
It was nearly the second hour of the morning and a deafening hush fell on the camp; except for the occasional giggle. Alistair had not slept so well in a long time. He had no nightmares, no dreams-that-were-actually-nightmares and no flashbacks. He was pretty sure he was...dreaming.
Alistair found himself in what felt like Arl Eamon's home, exactly the one he grew up in. The long corridors were not easy to forget; Arlessa Isolde had made him stand in the corners of many of them when he had gotten covered in mud as a child. But this time he was not facing the wall, he was standing at the end of a particular corridor, facing an open door. That would probably explain why he felt a chilly breeze running through his hair. It was quite calming to be back here. There was the familiar, inviting smell of dinner that made Alistair grin excitedly. The corridor did, rather strangely, appear to be completely devoid of any activity. Usually there would be some of the servants scrubbing the floors or transporting washed linens, completing chores. Alistair pressed a hand against an ajar door next to him and it swung open to reveal an empty room; no furniture and no people. Shaking his head slightly, Alistair made his way over to the open door at the end of the corridor.
There didn't seem to be anything behind the door, just total blackness, but he could feel a tremendous excitement building up in his chest. He was not yet at the door when a ghostly figure appeared. It was a woman much shorter than himself; her silvery hair seemed to fall around her head, matching her smooth, spangled dress that wound its way around her form almost impossibly. Several matching bangles were worn on her arms, meeting an inky, swirling tattoo on her right forearm. They jingled slightly as she leant over to investigate the glowing candle she held in her hand. She must have sensed his staring, as she quickly flung her head up to meet his eyes, her lips parted slightly.
"Alistair?" She asked, her voice echoing through the corridor. A grin lit up her face as she held out her hand. "Come on, it's this way." And with that, she snuffed out the candle.
Trija had been calling Alistair's name for a while and she was starting to get annoyed.
"Alistair, wake up. Wake up, Wonderboy." The elf poked her head through the entrance of the tent. She grinned at his sleeping form and threw the tent flap behind her eagerly. This seemed to bring him nearer to consciousness. It was quite hard to recognise the elf; her normal blue eyeshadow was replaced with dark, smoky kohl, her usual pale lips were stained dark-red and her normally tied back hair was relaxed to her shoulders. Trija lowered herself onto the floor and gently started to shake his shoulder.
"Wake up, dammit. This is important." Alistair groaned slightly in his sleep. Noticing his bare chest, Trija chuckled and wolf-whistled, hoping he would see the funny side. She still grinned regardless, feeling the urge to kiss his parted lips. As soon as she shook the thought out of her head, his eyes flickered open sleepily only to stare up at her in disbelief.
"Why are you in my tent?" He mumbled. To this, she just beamed and winked.
"Why am I not?" She replied saucily. Sitting up, Alistair pretended to look deep in thought. Trija took this oppurtunity to edge closer, feeling the warmth radiating from him.
"Hmmm..I don't know." He whispered. Their faces were now inches away from each other, and Trija chose the moment to grab his hand and lead him towards the entrance of the tent.
"Come on, we're going somewhere!" She announced.
"Wait, what? Where?"
"You forgot 'why?'. And 'who?'" Trija quipped.
"Oh yes, very funny, Tabris."
Trija responded by tugging Alistair's hand.
"Come on-"
"Wait, can I at least put a shirt on?" He asked incredulously. Trija pouted.
"Aw, really?" She giggled to herself. "Fine. I suppose then."
Winking once more, she exited the tent to wait outside. When he reappeared the young woman linked her arm through his.
"So, what are we actually doing?" Alistair tried to ask in a nonchalant way.
"Youuu'll see," She giggled again. Seeing his puzzled expression, she added, "Fine, we're going out somewhere. Perhaps for a drink. That enough?"
"Not really. Isn't it enough that I fight darkspawn?" He pretended to be upset.
"Nope!" She grinned back.
"Isn't it enough that I put up every day with a temperamental, selfish, abusive-"
"Sexy..." Trija interrupted.
"Alright, sexy-"
"Talented, brilliant-"
"Infuriating!"
"Funny!"
"You can be a bit immature..."
"Post-modern goddess!"
"And oh-so modest."
Trija just laughed heartily.
"Wait, 'sexy'?" She said in between laughs.
"You said it!"
"You know what? Last night I had this dream-"
"Was I involved?" Came the unmistakable lilt of one of Trija's favourite accents. She was, for once, quite disappointed to hear it.
"Zevran!" She tried to sound pleased. "Easy, Wonderboy." She added under her breath. The good-looking elf stepped out of the shadows formed around his tent where he could have been watching them.
"Those skills the Crows taught you come in handy for eavesdropping, as well as murdering?" Alistair growled. Zevran laughed blatantly at this.
"You thought I would waste my time eavesdropping? I did however, happen to hear you are going somewhere. Can I come?" He smirked, flashing his pearly-whites.
"Oh, but Zevran," Trija smirked back. "The last time you took me somewhere we went to The Gilded Dildo."
Zevran just shrugged and Trija dared not look at Alistair in case she laughed too hard.
"What can I say? It's a good place."
Trija sighed despite herself.
"Fine, lead on."
To be continued...
Review and Zevran will take you to The Gilded Dildo ;D. Hahah.