BioWare own everything! I'm just playing in their dragon and darkspawn-filled sandbox.
Chapter 12 - Battlefield
Maker, he thought by now this phase of an inhuman sized infatuation with the elf with hair as white as the moonlight would have passed by now instead of grow like a tumour on his heart.
He thought it would have at least been cut down a few levels after what had happened after the battle with the Orlesians at Redcliffe. While he was searching for wounded people and elves he came across a couple, a young male villager and one of the Redcliffe soldiers sharing a kiss on the docks against a wall.
He'd seen too many women and men this afternoon mourning over their partners and brothers in arms. It was nice to see a couple both make it out alive, the overwhelming relief and happiness they must be feeling because their lover had survived the battle.
He almost let himself smile at the pair until he noticed a trio of Redcliffe soldiers coming around the other side of the building. He ducked behind a pile of nearby crates. Carver wanted so badly to call a warning but his voice caught in his throat and all he could do was watch as a great-sword was slammed through the soldiers back, withdrawn with a sickening squelch of flesh being torn the squeal of metal against armour and drove right through the villager's gut pinning him to the wall.
The trio laughed heartily at the scene.
The wounded soldier crawled over to his partner grasping at the others hand, holding it until he bled out and collapsed on the wooden planks of the docks at his partners feet, the cries of the soldiers' name and the 'I love you' falling on dead ears.
Carver's stomach acid finding a new way to make him feel sick.
Carver's jealousy and hurt because the elf would never return his feelings had turned him into a bitter, he'd build up walls and clung to his anger to (hopefully) disguise how miserable he truely was.
It wasn't fair of Leto to offer those fleeting touches to his arm when he wanted Carver's attention, that cheeky glint in his eyes that made the Swordsman think the elf had spotted him staring but he didn't say anything and that slightly arrogant swagger that had found its way in to his step.
These actions were a bittersweet and led to his mind wondering, to think the other man could be hiding a secret crush on him too and that all this business with his sister was just a cover-up. He'd heard stories from The Wardens and King Cailan's army of men who have wives and children but frequent the whorehouse The Pearl for the company of a another man.
As if I could be so lucky… Leto would never…
He could no longer concentrate on a woman, appreciate her luscious curves and hour-glass figure in the little clothing the females of Lothering dressed in or in her small clothes and have his raging teenage hormones turn him on in his private-time.
There's something wrong me.
His mind always changed the images in the haze of his approaching climax and replaced the faceless broad with large breasts with Leto's chiselled features, green eyes and his lean muscled body moving against his own.
He groaned low in the back of his throat as he spilled his seed over his knuckles.
He cursed, almost punching himself in the face when the string of swears the Tevinter often used flew out his mouth instead of his native Ferelden curse.
He sent the back his skull repetitively against the stone wall of his room.
He just jerked off to an image of his best friend who is a male and is dating his damn older sister.
Fuck.
Something is seriously wrong with you Carver.
A landslide of guilt, nauseousness, shame and the disgust he felt towards himself battling it out to the point he hoped the floor would open up and swallow him into the Void so he could escape his mind and organs violently twisting inside him.
It was the same result every time but he still went back and did it time and time again chasing the other feelings that surfaced before the guilt came along to suffocate him.
He scowled at the memory of it.
He drowned the rest of his drink, looking over the brim of the mug at the elf that invaded his mind, heart and soul. His scowl deepened when the eldest Hawke sauntered up to the elf and pulled him down into a kiss, her hands tangling in the white locks at the back of his neck.
A green eye flickered in his direction, he couldn't decipher look the elf was giving him from across the badly lit tavern. Surprise? Apologetic? Guilt? He shuddered.
His older sister and his elf. It made him queasy but he held the bile down not wanting to hurl until he'd destroyed his liver a bit more first.
Danal came over to him with two pitchers of ale "On the house" he smiled, holding a hand up when Carver reached for some silvers to pay "Welcome back my boy!" he chirped, clapping the soldier on the back before crossing the rom back to his place behind the bar.
Nothing ever seems to bother that man. What is his secret to always appearing so happy?
In the midst of a room that reeked of sweat, piss and beer, that unmistakable smell of leather and forest that always clung to the Tevinter entered his nostrils.
He looked up to see if his sensitive nose or mind were playing a trick on him.
"Hey, man!" the elf greeted enthusiastically, "Long time no see. I almost didn't recognize you with that scruffy beard of yours eating half your face. How are you? When did you get back in town? How was the battle in Redcliffe?" he fired questions at him and at some point between them he had dropped into the booth next to the Swordsman.
"I'm fine. Last night and it went… fine."
Leto's smile faltered at clipped way his friend was speaking. "Is something wrong?"
"It's nothing" he said curtly, looking down eyes closing and swirling the amber liquid of his almost-empty cup of ale.
"No. There most definitely is something on your mind." Leto's frown deepened at his friends' expression (for the first time in all the years of knowing him) unable to read it with the pale boys eyes closed it was impossible for the Tevinter to even snag a hint from those eyes that often displayed the thoughts to him clear as day.
"Will you tell me what's bothering you, Carvy?"
Carver let the tiniest of smiles creep onto the stony expression his face was set in at the use of the nickname. "I want to but I can't tell you everything but i-it's a bit… complicated"
Understatement of the century,
"You can tell me anything. And I mean anything and I will still always be here for you. I got your back, you know that right?" he went to put his hand to the raven-haired boy's shoulder who shrugged it away before it could land.
The elf's hand hovered awkwardly, confused and hurt his offer of comfort was dodged like that before he let it drop into his lap.
Well he wasn't going to get anything out of the blue-eyed Hawke without a little help from their good friend alcohol to loosen his tongue a bit. Leto got Danal's attention with a bird-call, made a drinking gesture with his hand and bent his thumb across his palm to make '4'. The bartender nodded at their 'code' and filled 4 large pouring jugs with ale and got one of the bar-maids Susan to help carry them over.
Carver raised an eye brow at the jugs that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. Had the elf left and returned without making a sound…. Twice? "Welcome home drinks of course, I got Danal to bring them over" the elf smiled.
How does he always do that? It's like he can read my mind sometimes… Maker help me if he can… he swallowed, looking at the mousse head hanging across the room not remembering it ever being there before, maybe it's always been there he just never looked in that direction or was too drunk to notice or care for the mounted animal head.
They had emptied the first and second jug and it was still awkward to say the least. Leto tried to make conversation but Carvers clipped responses made each topic come to an end as quickly as it started. The way the Swordsman refused to look directly at him was… strange. For as long as he could remember those azure eyes had always been on him, weather watching from a far or holding their gaze for as long as possible when either spoke.
Two weeks ago he had been called to his first battle against the army of Orlais with King Cailan's army at Redcliffe. The first time you kill another human can be tough, it will haunt you even if it is done out of self-defence or army orders. Maybe this was the reason…
"Did you…. kill anyone?" he asked in a low almost-whisper, he felt that talking of such things in a public place like this was like breaking an unwritten rule of some kind.
"I was on the front line of course I did!" Carver scoffed, "Do you think the enemy dropped dead on their own? Grace made short work of their badly crafted armour, she was soaked to the hilt in Orlesian blood" He brought the mug to his lips and murmured darkly to himself "I wish I could add those jerks and that slippery escaped circle mage's blood from the tavern to it"
Leto's perceptive hearing heard the defensive and grief under the aloof tone of his voice and bloodlust in that second comment. "It's okay to be upset about –"
"I'm not upset" Of course Carver would deny it. It was his job as a soldier to kill. He'd been fighting against the darkspawn for months but now he'd spilled human blood it was obvious to the elf it had affected him. "Alright, alright don't look at me like that! … I feel sick to my stomach for taking them away from their families but there's nothing I can do to bring them back"
The first few days being on that battlefield, bodies of warriors and rouges dropping at his feet and being covered in blood it didn't bother him as much but when they got to the archers, their blades sliding into the flesh of female and elf with little resistance it felt… wrong.
It cut him deeper than he'd ever admit.
Those big green elven eyes of the last archer pleading at him to spare his life, he couldn't help but be reminded of Leto as he as drove Grace into the Orlesian elf. Around him the men and women of King Cailan's army cheered, a couple clapping him on the back in victory while he dropped to his knees in the muddy blood-soaked ground silently mourning the elves he'd slain.
"Good to know it's not girl trouble" the elf said in attempt to lighten the mood after the heavy silence between them felt like it was stretching too far.
Those sapphire eyes practically barked 'as if!' and the look on the younger boys face was almost smug as he said "Oh please, I'm far too good-looking I'm out of the league of the tramps here" he squared out his shoulders and puffed out his chest slightly for added effect of fake arrogance.
"You know," Leto said slowly "I've seen the bar-maid Susan Rivers checking you out quite a bit tonight. She can't keep her eyes off you, she almost spilled that guys drink over him because she was lost in all that muscle and scruffy facial hair. No wonder she is drooling over you" He playfully shoved at his friends shoulders "I should introduce you, come on. Some drunken snogging might be just what you need to lift your spirits"
My sister has been a bad influence on you…
It took quite a bit of self-control not scream 'Maker no! Are you off your rocker elf' he needed to keep up his wall up around his secret. "I'm not interested. She's not my… type." He looked over to the girl in the short skirt and extremely low cut shirt and his mind created an image of her slobbering like a dog with rabies. "Just knowing she is… drooling over me is giving me the creeps" He shuddered.
"There's something else… why can't you just tell me what's on your mind?" he sighed, re-filling his drink. "It was hard for me to talk with you at first but you are my best mate and I feel 110% comfortable talking to you about anything and everything without flinching now. Trust me, getting it off your chest will help"
Leto got Danal's attention again and signalled to bring over some vodka as well as a couple more jugs of ale to replace the ones they had emptied already.
"I am no good at talking about this kind of… stuff." He ran a hand through his sweaty raven hair and snatched up the bottle of clear liquid before it could touch the table top, poured himself a glass and drowned it in a single gulp making a face at the burn.
Refill. Repeat. Refill. Repeat. Refill. Repeat. Refill. Repeat. For a moment Leto was convinced the blue-eyed boy would consume the whole bottle before telling him anything
"There's a lot on my mind" Refill. Repeat. "Alright I'll tell you some of it" Tiring of this method he brought the bottle to his lips and took few copious gulps of it "In time maybe I will grow the balls to tell you the main thing…. If I'm lucky I will make it out of that conversation alive"
The elf's gut twisted slightly, he thinks I would kill him if he ever told me his secret? He frowned and nodded so signal other boy to continue speaking. He took another gulp of the clear liquid and set it down, sighed and folded his hands together to stop himself going for it again so he could start talking.
"OK I know I said I'd try not to be such a jealous git about your…. relationship with my sister. But she always gets everything before me, I can't help it. I tire of always being in her shadow. For once in my life I want to get something before she does. To not always be the last or the odd one out, the youngest Hawke, the only warrior, the last boy and the only Hawke that has never even been kissed for Maker's sake!"
"Well I did offer –" Leto started, holding his arm out to motion that the bar-maid trying to hold down his smirk.
…This is what he's so upset about?! Wielder of giant swords, self-assured and confident, smart-arse giant spider slayer and Orlesian killer Carver upset because he's never been kissed. How…. Sweet.
"Lee!" Carver thumped his bicep, scowling "Come on man you want me to open up to you or not?" his voice held an unnecessary venom to it as he crossed his arms over his bulking chest.
"I'm sorry" he apologized, putting an arm around the younger boys shoulders and pulling him into a side-on hug "I did not mean any harm by that comment. I just wanted to try and make my Carvy smile." He said resisting the urge to mock him further by pinching the pale Swordsman's cheek with his free hand
'my Carvy' Carver tried to control his smile from stretching across his face ear-to-ear. What a pansy he was becoming to be so happy to hear those two words put together in that low Tevinter accent slightly slurred by the ale the elf had consumed "You're forgiven, only because you did manage to make me smile."
He craned his neck to look up at the elf, eyes easily finding the scar he'd left on the underside of the elf's chin that looked like pointed 'c' back when they had been training with large daggers instead of great-swords "But as much as I hate being the last I want the first kiss to be special, y'know, with someone you care a lot about" their eyes locked briefly "It should be all butterflies and awkwardness in a peaceful place like… an open field under the stars. Not with some random person in a bar your best mate is a part-owner of"
"I see you've put quite a bit of thought into it." Leto said, a slight chuckle rumbling in his chest earning him a scowl from the younger male "I hope that it comes true for you my friend, sounds like something out of a fairy-tale"
"Anyway, my original point…. Hawke is my sister and you are mi- my best mate" he swallowed, he almost said 'mine' "It feels too weird to watch you two together. It's cute and all to the point I want to hurl. I hate that she treats you like you are made of glass instead of the thickest dragon hide or that she forces you to spend time with her and drags you around like a dog on a chain. What about me? You don't spend that much time with me anymore when I'm in town. I… I miss your company"
Leto struggled to catch the words that flew out of Carver mouth "You… you think I'm made of dragon hide?"
"Really Leto" a brow shot up, "that's what you got out of all that? Of course I think that. You've been through The Void and back and yet you remain the strongest and bravest man I've ever met"
"You played a big part in that you know. Without your support and our constant sparring matches I would probably still be that jittery shy elf that flinches at his own shadow or I'd be dead at the bottom of a lake" Leto admitted
"The Maker will not take you from me that easy" Carver promised, "He'll have to pry you from my cold dead hands"
"To friendship that will challenge the Maker himself!" Leto declared, holding his mug out to the soldier
"To friendship that will challenge the Maker himself" he repeated snatching up his mug and clinking it against the elf's