A/N: Alrighty, so, things are going to start treading into spoiler-y territory soon. Most of the drabbles will take place outside of the main plot, but there will be some that don't. So watch out! Also, as always, feedback is very much appreciated. Appreciated, loved, awarded with gross, slimy mabari kisses, etc. :) So remember to leave some!

Prompt : Jealousy

She knew Amaranthine like the back of her hand. After visiting the city many, many times in her life, she grew to think of the place more as a second or third home than just another name on the map.

This didn't stop her party from murmuring about how they suspected she was lost when she didn't lead them directly to the Crown and Lion Inn. Most of them didn't have the foggiest idea of how often she'd spent time here as a child, so she was quick to forgive them their doubts. Only Nathaniel protected her pride, claiming that neither of them would make a better guide.

Turning down a side road, Lía paused for a moment to take a look around. Things were different now. They didn't appear much different, but the entire atmosphere felt different. Forced. Unwelcoming. None of this took away from how nice it felt to be back.

Behind her, she could hear Anders talking to Velanna.

"Have I ever told you that I find tattoos on women incredibly attractive?"

Lía tensed. It took every scrap of will not to lift her hand to the dark tattoo that ran over her right eye. But he was talking to Velanna, not her. Velanna's tattoos seemed more natural, like they belonged on her sun-kissed skin, a complete contrast when compared to her own near-black markings. She was also Dalish. Her tattoos were the symbols of the gods, not some attempt from a stupid noble to seem more imposing.

Velanna, however, did not seem impressed. "Have I ever told you that I find most humans physically and morally repulsive?"

"Good to know!" Anders laughed. A few moments passed in silence. Lía continued their trek up towards the inn, her back turned towards her party. "Hold on," he continued after a while, "You said most humans. Does that mean I've got a shot?"

The elf gave an annoyed huff before lengthening her strides to catch up with the Commander.

Some small part of her rejoiced at Velanna's reaction to Anders' advances. Her relief didn't even hit home until the female mage fell into stride with her. She was actually jealous? Of Velanna and the attention he felt it was appropriate to shower her with?

She was the Warden-Commander of Ferelden. She'd saved them from the Blight. Or, rather, the Archdemon. Her renown cast a hefty shadow upon whoever tried to stand in her way.

And yet she felt anxiety bubbling in her stomach.

This is ridiculous, she told herself as she took the first step of many towards the inn.

--

This is absurd, Anders found himself thinking as he watched Lía engage in what looked like an intense discussion with Nathaniel beside the large fire in the center of the Throne Room.

After she'd finished discussing business with Seneschal Varel, he'd seen her approaching him and felt a rising in the center of his chest. There was no greater sight than seeing the famed Warden moving towards him with that extra added pep in her step as she so often did. Not only did the extra attention make him feel welcome, but it also made him feel quite special. It was nice.

Tonight, however, she gave him no more than a smile and a nod as she passed right by him, her feet leading her directly towards Howe.

Ah. Of course she'd want to talk to him. After their recent visit to Amaranthine, he would no doubt have some concerns, something weary or biting to say about the city's treatment of his familial history. He faintly recalled him saying something about a statue and her saying something about finding it for him. At the time, he hadn't thought much of it. But now, the fact was oddly unsettling.

So now they were sitting beside the fire, speaking in hushed tones. He leaned into her, his chin dipped down so he could hear her better next to the crackling flames, and as she spoke, she used her hands, fingers caressing each word that left her mouth.

"There is no reason you should be jealous," he heard from beside him.

His eyes flashed to Ambassador Cera. The elf was staring up at him, hands laced before her. "I'm not jealous."

"And I've been standing here for the past two weeks of my own volition," she retorted, her tone surprisingly sarcastic. He hadn't garnered such a response from her before. He was impressed with himself. "She and Nathaniel were close. At least, that's what he told me."

Anders didn't say a word; he merely shot another look towards the two of them, still sitting by the fire, still talking. Oh, and now they were smiling. And laughing! Oh, Maker's blessings, how adorable!

His lips pressed into a thin line.

"She's trying to help him, just like she's trying to help you. And everyone else here."

"Alright. I get it. She's some kind of angel." He crossed his arms over his chest, turning away from the two to look towards Cera instead. "But why does she have to sit so close?"