Square #22 – Accidental Marriage – Sebastian/Fenris
They largely went their separate ways, after Kirkwall. Hawke with Merrill, Isabela with her ship, Varric and Aveline remaining behind in Kirkwall. Doubtless they'd see to it that something appropriate was done with the apostate's body.
Carver was heading south, he said, returning to Ferelden and his place among the Grey Wardens there.
"I am going with him," Fenris said, firmly, in that way that said his mind was made up and could not be changed. "The farther away I am from Tevinter, the better."
Sebastian nodded wordlessly. He had given up on the idea of retaking Starkhaven, deciding somewhere in the blood and mayhem of that final day in Kirkwall that war was not something he wished on any people, and particularly on people who might have been his. "I will come with you," he said, voice still rough and hoarse from breathing smoke and dust, from screaming. "If I may."
Fenris said nothing, just nodded his head slightly, one corner of his mouth turning upwards the merest fraction of an inch. Sebastian had, in their years of friendship, learned to watch for such signs, to read them, and felt some tightness in himself uncoil just slightly at even that small a sign from the elf that his company was still welcome. That their friendship was still unbroken.
Isabela took the three of them south, Fenris sharing her cabin for the few days of trip, across to Highever and then tacking eastwards along the coast to Amaranthine. Carver and Sebastian shared a tiny room usually used for the more delicate cargo, just barely large enough for two hammocks strong one above the other, their belongings – what little they had, a small bundle for Carver, a larger pack for Sebastian – occupying the floor space underneath.
Amaranthine was larger and more prosperous than Sebastian had expected, Vigil's Keep smaller and more primitive. The Hero of Ferelden was different than he'd expected, too – he'd heard of Timorn Surana's red-brown hair, her blue-green eyes, and the long vertical ridge of scar that marred one side of her face, souvenir of her near-death when fighting the Archdemon atop Fort Drakon. He hadn't heard of how small she was, or of how brightly and frequently she smiled. A surprising number of those smiles directed at Carver, who seemed a far different person among the wardens than he ever had around his brother and his brother's friends. Far more assured, for one thing; his own man, as he had never managed to be when merely part of his brother's retinue.
Timorn allowed Fenris and Sebastian to stay on at the keep, at Carver's request, neither of them sure if they wanted to become a Grey Warden or not themselves, but both of them admiring the wardens greatly, and willing to put their martial skills in their service until they either decided to stay, or moved on. They had separate rooms, in the half-empty keep, and the pattern of their days soon fell into their old routine, Sebastian visiting Fenris at least briefly every day or two, the two of them sharing talk and food and wine and friendship, but nothing else. Never anything more.
Things might have remained that way forever, the two settling in even more comfortably, perhaps undergoing the Joining eventually, becoming full Grey Wardens themselves instead of just auxiliaries to them, the pattern of their days and their friendship unchanging. But chance intervened; Timorn invited them along with her, on a trip she was making into the far south, to recruit among the Chasind barbarians.
It had been a good trip. The Chasind had perhaps even more reason to remember the darkspawn than the northerners did, much of their lands having been badly blighted by the creatures' presence. It would be centuries before some of their hunting ranges recovered, if ever; they'd had to burn off vast tracts of land, kill most of their few domesticated animals, to end the spread of Blight-sickness that might otherwise have wiped them out entirely. They eked out a poor existence on the lands remaining to them, clinging fiercely to their way of life.
It did not help that there'd been a drought this year, a bad one, desiccating much of what forest and field remained. But they saw the coming of the Grey Wardens into the south as a hopeful sign, and several of their best young warriors had volunteered to join. And mostly survived, to Timorn's delight. She theorized that their exposure to the blighted lands might have hardened them somehow against the taint, making them more likely to survive it, and meant to do research to see if recruits from other blighted areas of Thedas displayed the same higher rate of survival.
There was to be a celebration, before the Grey Wardens old and new set off back north again; a high honour, the group of them invited to take part in one of the Chasinds' more cherished rituals. A feast, a dance, a night of revelry, meant to call back the missing rains and restore fertility to the drought-stricken lands. The Chasind felt that including the Grey Wardens in their ritual might even have beneficial effects on the blighted lands, if the rains did come, so she could hardly tell them no. Besides, it was a rare chance – the Chasind almost never allowed outsiders to see their ceremonies, much less partake in them.
Drink flowed freely that night, a wine-like drink the Chasind fermented out of honey, flavoured with wild berries. It was sweeter than Fenris liked, so he drank only a little of it, but Sebastian liked the flavours the different berries gave it, and kept trying different kinds; flavoured with blueberries, with bunchberries, with juniper and chokecherries.
They sat together, watching the dancing. Many of the dances had special meanings, they had been told, and some were only allowed to be danced by the men, and some were women's dances. There was a dance done by children at one point, in the course of which they built a long pile of wood across the middle of the dancing ground, and then a dance where half the dancers tried to defend the pile, while the other half tried to steal sticks of wood away. Then a dance of elders, who restored any stolen sticks back to the pile, and lit it, at the end.
There was storytelling after that, groups of Chasind acting out tribal legends, some as old as the tribes themselves, some newer tales, including one of the Blight Year, acted out with the aid of elaborate masks. All the actors who were 'dead' at the end of it were picked up and tossed across the fire afterwards to symbolize the great burning that had followed, the darkspawn masks ceremoniously stripped off and burnt.
The fire was down to embers when a final dance started, led by a young couple, dressed in long cloaks woven of grass that made them resemble mobile haystacks, with headdresses of green leaves. They would dance to the very edge of the fire, around it, and then away again, while the tribe sang a very long and complicated song in their own tongue. A sad song, one of mourning.
"It's about the drought," Fenris said, abruptly sitting up straighter, surprising himself with his sudden understanding of the story being acted out. "Look how the fire is drying out their costumes."
"They'll be on fire soon if they keep that up," Sebastian agreed, frowning as he saw how the cloaks were smoking a little from the nearness of the heat as the two danced again along the very edge of the fire, feet thudding against dirt just inches from the glowing coals, before retreating again.
On their next pass a log popped, sap spitting to steam, and sparks flew. Grasses flamed into sudden fire. The couple dashed a few steps away from the fire, then to Sebastian and Fenris' astonishment ran back towards it, fingers working at the fastenings of their cloaks as they ran. They leapt together over the bonfire, flames roaring up behind them as their cloaks fell free onto the coals, and were eaten by hungry flame. The pair, almost naked now save for their headdresses, grinned as the crowd exploded into happy cries, and then disappeared into the darkness together, hand in hand.
The song resumed, the music of it happier now, hopeful in some way that it hadn't been before. After a short pause a second couple came out into the fire-lit area, not costumed, a girl pulling a boy by the hand, the boy looking self-conscious and blushing. Hoots and catcalls rose up, and the boy's flush darkened, then he grabbed the girl's other hand and they danced a few steps together before leaping the fire as well and running off into the darkness. The third couple was older, and with them it was the woman who seemed reluctant, until the man spoke softly to her, and then her chin rose and she grabbed his hands, and they danced and jumped as well. Then a pair of women came forward, which brought a loud excited outburst from the watching tribesmen, and the song surged even louder and happier than before, the sound after they'd jumped almost deafening.
Another couple, white-haired and slow-moving, came forward next, and the singing became very sweet and tender. It seemed as if everyone held their breath for a moment as the couple jumped the fire, but they cleared it, the man staggering slightly on landing but quickly steadied by the woman, and happy sounding words were called after them as they too went off into the darkness. The song resumed, quieter now, almost questioning.
It was beginning to fade away, voices dropping out one by one, when a unexpected couple came forward. Timorn and Carver, Timorn looking happy, Carver's chin set stubbornly and cheeks flushed with colour, but eyes glowing with joy when he looked at Timorn. He leaned down and whispered something to her as the music surged loudly again, startled voices joining back in. She laughed, and took his hands, cheers and cat-calls sounding as they danced briefly together, then jumped the bonfire as well. The shouting that followed was thunderous, everyone rising to their feet to stomp their feet and clap their hands in approval, Timorn and Carver grinning and taking a bow instead of running off right away.
"Come on!" exclaimed Sebastian suddenly, grabbing Fenris' hand and pulling him forward. "Let's jump too!"
Fenris tried to protest, but his words were drowned out by the even louder calls and ululations that met their appearance by the fire. He frowned at Sebastian, then rolled his eyes as he realized the futility of trying to stop things now, and instead let Sebastian grasp his hands. They danced a few steps together, Sebastian enthusiastically and Fenris feeling stiff and clumsy in comparison, it not being a skill he'd ever learned. But Sebastian's grin was infectious, and he smiled back before they turned and leapt the bonfire.
Timorn and Carver were still there, both looking surprised. Timorn said something, her words inaudible over the explosive shouting of the watching Chasind, but the jerk of her head before she and Carver ran off was clear; Fenris and Sebastian followed after her.
"Andraste's arse, what did you two think you were doing!" Carver exclaimed as soon as they'd moved far enough from the raucous gathering that words could be heard.
What do you mean?" Sebastian asked, sounding bewildered by Carver's reaction.
"I don't think they knew at all what they were doing," Timorn said grimly, touching Carver's arm lightly, then looked back and forth between Fenris and Sebastian, expression serious. "Congratulations. You two are now married."
"What!" Fenris and Sebastian exclaimed.
"There's no time for explanations; this is a very serious ceremony for the Chasind. We'll have to sort things out properly later, after we're back in the north. But for tonight, you two are going to have to at least pretend you did that on purpose, and share a room together in the ceremonial lodge. If you can manage a little heated moaning, all to the better. And then act like a married couple until we leave. Otherwise the Chasind are likely to think you two purposefully spoiled their ceremony, and if the rains don't come, they will blame us for it, and be quite angry about it. Do you understand?" she said sharply, every inch the Warden-Commander in that moment.
"Yes, commander," Sebastian said humbly, looking ashen-faced and very abruptly sober as he realized what danger his impulsive decision had brought them all into.
"Then follow us. Say and do nothing to make it obvious that this was an accident. And smile," she said, then suited actions to words, glancing at Carver and smiling warmly at him, her hand tightening on his.
They led the way back to the Chasind village, and to a large lodge there. A few elders sat around the doorway of it, and judging by the evidence of plates and cups had been there some time. They smiled and rose as the two couples approached, and in broken common expressed their delight at the guests having taken part in their ceremony, especially pleased that a long-Chasind-word couple had rounded off the extra luck brought on the ceremony by the joining of the earlier longer-Chasind-word couple, and surely after this the rains would come and the fertility of the lands return.
They were then each led off by a separate elder, Timorn taken off in one direction, the three men in another. "Preparation for your wedding night," Carver had time to tell the two, before their guides showed them into separate rooms.
Fenris felt uneasy, being separated from those he knew, and relaxed not at all when he saw by the room's contents that he was expected to bathe and change. If he'd dared to protest, he would have, but instead he forced himself to smile, and submitted to being helped into a bath by his elderly guide.
The hot bath cleared any lingering effects of drinking that Sebastian still had after the sobering effect of Timorn's words. It was a much-chastened and entirely sober man who was shown into a bedroom some while later, freshly bathed and dressed in a beautifully sewn robe. He wasn't sure what the fabric was; linen as a base, he suspected, with some other plant fibre in the thread that gave it a gloss and softness that linen by itself would not have had, the robe heavily embroidered and trimmed with fur.
Fenris was there before him, he saw, sitting on a wide, low bed dressed in a matching robe, looking oddly vulnerable without his armour, his arms wrapped around his uplifted knees. He glanced up as Sebastian entered, their eyes briefly meeting, then looked away again, looking as unnerved as Sebastian felt. "They have given us some wine and food," he said, gesturing at a tray sitting on the floor by the bed.
"I think I have already had too much to drink tonight," Sebastian said quietly, and stood by the door, hands flexing and feeling entirely uncertain as to what to do. He swallowed. "I am sorry."
Fenris glanced at him again, a quick, side-long look, then lowered his head, staring down at his own toes. "It is all right," Fenris said, voice very quiet and flat. "It does not matter."
Sebastian drew a breath. "It should. It should matter greatly," he said, voice barely above a whisper. Fenris gave him a startled look, then frowned slightly, looking puzzled. Sebastian walked forward, then lowered himself to sit on the edge of the bed, studying Fenris' face as the elf looked questioningly at him, then turned away again, cheeks flushing.
"I have always..." Sebastian began, and broke off, biting his lip.
Another side-long look from Fenris. "You have always what?"
He sighed, and looked away himself, unable to meet Fenris' eyes. "I have always been... content, in our friendship. In Kirkwall I had my vows, and you preferred your solitude, and when you did not, you had Isabela." He glanced at Fenris to see how his words were being received, and coloured a little to find Fenris watching him closely, his brow just faintly wrinkled. "I would be lying if I did not say there were times even then when I wished things might be different between us. But our friendship was enough. And after we left Kirkwall..." he fell silent again.
"After we left Kirkwall, having lost so much else already, you did not want to risk breaking it," Fenris said softly, and then, after a pause. "No more than I did."
"Yes," Sebastian agreed, the word barely breathed as blue eyes met green eyes, and studied each other guardedly.
It was Fenris who moved first, Sebastian holding his breath as the elf slid closer, to sit hip-to-hip facing him. Fenris leaned forward, eyes searching Sebastian's face, as if searching for some sign, as if Sebastian's face was a book with a word that puzzled him, its meaning not quite clear. "And now?" he asked.
"When Timorn said we were married, for just a moment, I was very happy. And now I think I may have been a fool not to have said or done anything earlier, to let you know that I... that I often wished more than merely friendship.."
Fenris' lips twitched into a smile. "Then I was equally a fool," he said, and shifted slightly, his hand coming to rest on top of Sebastian's.
Sebastian smiled, and linked his fingers with Fenris'. "It would seem we are going about this entirely the wrong way. Marriage first, and then affection."
Fenris lifted an eyebrow. "As a noble, is that not the way it most likely would have been? An arranged marriage to start things off?"
Sebastian shrugged. "I suppose. It is the way my parents married. My eldest brother married after I left Starkhaven; I do not know if it was for love, or for..."
"Shut up," Fenris said. "You talk too much when you are nervous," he pointed out, then smiled, and leaned forward, eyes half-shutting as he did so.
Sebastian smiled as well, and let his own eyes close entirely as lips touched his, warm and a little dry, and oh, so very long-desired a kiss.
"Rain," said Timorn, and sighed, frowning slightly at the rain falling heavily outside the open door. "Well, that will at least make our allies happy, though it may delay our departure," she said.
Carver smiled, sliding his arm around her waist. "I don't think those two are going to complain any," he said, and nodded across the fire, to where Sebastian and Fenris were seated side by side, leaning together over their shared breakfast, and with eyes only for each other.
Timorn smiled, and leaned against Carver. "Come to that, I don't think I'm going to complain about a few more days of rest either," she said contentedly.