prompt : overnight

"Stop squirming and I'll be able to get these off faster," Anders growled as he gave one of the straps of her pauldron an unnecessarily rough tug.

Líadan grimaced, staring down at her gauntlet. "You're going this on purpose."

"Would you prefer it if I didn't do it at all?"

Rolling her eyes skyward, she rolled her shoulder into the molded shoulder of her armor. "Just hurry up. If you want to set up your tent before it starts to rain." She flexed her fingers and looked at him, her eyes narrowed. "Unless you'd rather sleep with –"

"I could manage. As long as you don't squirm as much as you're-" he gave another buckle the same tug; this time it was enough to send her lurching down to his height, "-squirming-," he began plucking at the laces that kept it attached to her arming jacket, "now."

Lía huffed, snatching the pauldron out of his hand and casting it to the ground beside her pack. "Unless you'd rather sleep with Oghren. You should know better than to interrupt a lady when she's speaking."

"That'd be sound advice," he muttered, removing her elbow cover and rerebrace from the same arm, "if I were talking to a lady."

Removing Lía's armor was one of the least pleasant things he could think of doing at that very moment. Nathaniel was no doubt having a whale of a time putting up his tent in comparison. And Oghren was the only person he knew that never stopped having a good time. Being a perpetual drunk could do that to a person, he supposed.

Leaning forward, Anders peered at her gauntlets. "D'you want me to tend to those, or do you think you'd be able to manage them?"

"I am not afraid to punch the healer," she said, voice low, as she began working at the buckles. It was difficult work, removing them with the use of a single hand. Biting at the leather, she gave one of the buckles an unceremonious tug, the corner of her mouth quirking upwards at the sight of it releasing the strap. "Just remember that."

"And then you'd be sleeping in your armor," Anders replied smoothly.

"I've done it before."

Moving behind her, his nimble fingers made quick work of the clasps of her breastplate. The muscles of his arms clenched as it opened, and he moved it aside, casting a curious look up at her. "And was it comfortable?"

"... No."

He grinned. "Exactly."

Lía let out a low grumble that might've been a whine if emitted from anyone else. "Just take it off."

Stifling a laugh, Anders tilted his chin down and looked at her, brows arched high on his forehead. His hands moved to his robes, fingers working effortlessly at the laces that kept it tied around the back of his neck. "All you had to do was ask."

"Hey! He-ey, none of that." Just as the words were out out of her mouth, something in the weather changed. She heard the tell-tale sound of rain hitting the canvas above their heads, and this was only barely enough to mask the sound of the leather palm of her remaining gauntlet smacking into the middle of her forehead. "Oh, Maker's holy ass."

"Ah, well, looks like I'll be bunking here tonight," he sighed, "Rain and all."

A thick index pointed directly into his face. "Stop taking off your robes. I've heard you and Nate. I'd rather not be cold and damp and aware that that is anywhere near me."

No manner of pouting could get Lía to change her mind on the subject, so he didn't even attempt to do so. Instead, he helped her with the rest of her armor, setting it aside carefully despite the fact that she was wont to toss it wherever there was room for it to land. When she was left in an admittedly damp and incredibly clingy shirt and trousers, she prepared her bedroll and slid beneath her furs, gesturing to the spot at her side.

He either didn't spot the gesture, or he ignored it, choosing instead to walk in small circles in an attempt to find a dry spot. "Anders," she near-shouted to be heard above the now much louder rain. "Get in."

"And have you crush me in your sleep? I think I'll pass."

"Get in."

The finality in her tone was what drove him to drop onto his knees and wriggle onto the strip of cushion, more than happy to abide by her orders more out of the realization that she really would crush him anyway if he didn't do as he was told when she was tired.

"I'll have you know," he murmured, turning over onto his side, "that I don't really want to be here. This was your decision."

Shutting her eyes, Lía crossed her arms and dug the back of her head into the bedroll. "Trust me. I know."

"Oh, alright." He shifted on the bedroll, his chest bumping into her arm. "Glad we cleared that up."

"Anders."

Yawning, he shut his eyes and curled his arms up against his chest. "Mm?"

"Stop talking."

Being the light sleeper that he was, Anders woke many times during the night. Not only was Lía a squirmer – as he'd predicted – but she snored. Quite loudly. How he hadn't known this before, he wasn't sure. But of all the things that surprised him, everything else paled in comparison to the sensation of her arm wrapping around his waist and pulling him close. She was surprisingly warm, and he found a sleepy smile curving at the corner of his mouth as her hand stroked at his back.

Even if he wasn't a naughty chevalier and he wasn't exactly sure what that murmured string of (poor) Orlesian meant, it didn't take him long to realize that he would be perfectly okay with pretending to be one, but only for that night.