Disclaimer: I own absolutely and completely nothing. Bioware has that particular pleasure.
Summary: A City-Elf/Bann Teagan collection of drabbles and one-shots based on a prompt table from an LJ-community. These will be more or less in chronological order with the faintest traces of added plot here and there. Will vary from drabble length to one-shot.
Author's note: silly gift for my reviewers ;x thank you for the nice words, guys~
In this chapter: In which Assan becomes the best Warden recruit.
045.
They are almost there. Almost. Assan can taste it in the air, feel it in his tongue, see it on the straight back he follows without question or doubt. This is what he's meant for. Listen her voice rolling over him. Using claws and teeth and every trace of weight for something other than himself.
The roar echoes in his flesh. They are almost almost there.
When they stop.
"He's not a wanted Apostate. Or a blood mage for that matter. Or both. Also not a demon-summoning, warden-experimenting walking corpse. Definitely not a demon-possessed one."
"You?"
His elf shakes her head, laughs – falsely, falsity all over it – and spares him no glance.
"Kill babies for demonic rituals. And nobles for revenge in spare time." He's a noble. Can she do that? Will she do that? She should do it. Now. "Are we stopping to discuss the validity behind my dog's presence or do I have to dig up his family tree?"
"You are insane."
Another shake and no amusement.
"I can't really take that seriously from a man married to Isolde. And, sadly, I'm also the acting Warden-Commander until this mess is over. Moving on now."
She leaves.
The Grey stares and seems amused, very. And follows.
Assan waits, focuses and does his job.
Then the fight is over and he is free to bite the Moron's leg.