Guillaume/Antony
Note – these are OC templars from towards the end of "Eye of the Storm". This is a glimpse of them at some point pre-Eyes.
Guillaume settled on a chair in the corner of the dining hall, feeling grouchy. He missed Ellis; the two of them had been a pair for years, since Guillaume had been a scrawny new-made templar, still wet behind the ears. But Ellis was gone now; retired, not due to lyrium addiction as would not have been due for some years yet, but due to injury. A wound gone septic, from a minor injury he hadn't taken proper care of; a damned foolish way for a good man to loose a limb, and almost his life.
He was to be paired with someone new, now. He was not looking forward to it, even if Rémi had promised it would be someone he could trust. His brother had his own agenda, and someone Rémi trusted wouldn't necessarily be someone he felt like trusting as well. Though he supposed he could at least trust that Rémi would have made sure whomever it was would not betray them.
He sighed, and pushed his food around on his plate, before taking another mouthful of it. He had little appetite; too much worry. What if Rémi had misjudged, and this new partner of his was untrustworthy? The thought of the fate that awaited them all - and especially him - if the Seekers ever learned of them...
His appetite gone entirely, he pushed his plate away and rose to his feet. He turned to leave, and almost walked right into another templar; a very young one, with the still-gawky physique of someone barely out of their last growth spurt. Maker, they were swearing them in younger every year, it sometimes seemed...
"Whoops, sorry!" the younger man exclaimed, and smiled cheerfully at him. "Are you Guillaume?"
"Yes," he answered, warily, wishing the young sprout would move aside so he could leave.
The other's grin widened. "Good! I thought so - I am Antony," he said. "Your new partner."
"You are..." he exclaimed, then gave the youngster a second look. "Impossible," he said flatly. This... this puppy was not suitable material for a partner for him! What on Thedas had Rémi been thinking...
Antony seemed not in the least put out by his disbelief, and merely gestured to Guillaume's abandoned seat. "Please, join me?" he asked politely. "We should at least talk a little, before you decide I am unsuitable."
Guillaume snorted, but grudgingly returned to his seat. He supposed he would have to at least talk with the man, give him some small chance to prove himself. In the end, it turned out to be merely the first of a great many times that Antony talked him into something, often against his better judgement. The man had a very persuasive tongue.
Those two templars seemed like rather pleasant fellows. I friendSHIP them, huurrr! So OC Templars, getting to know each other a little bit. Do they have something in common, besides the.. being templars thing? How was Antony found to be suitable - a special mage friend, or..?
Guillaume leaned his two-handed sword against the side of the well, and dropped the bucket down, hauling on the rope hand-over-hand to retrieve it. He poured the water out over his head, sighing in relief as it ran down his head and torso, then dropped the bucket again. He drank deeply from the bucket, poured what was left over his head, then handed the now-empty bucket to Antony as he moved aside.
"That was a good practise," he said approvingly, slicking his dripping hair back from his face. "You are quite good with that shield."
Antony nodded as he hauled on the rope. "I had a good teacher," he said, and smiled. "Besides, if I was not good with the shield, someone might scar my pretty face, and that would be a terrible waste, yes?"
Guillaume snorted, but didn't comment. Antony was quite attractive, that was true, with his black hair and dark blue eyes, but it was not the sort of thing you could say to another man. Certainly not to one you'd only known for such a short time. "You should grow a beard," he said.
"What, and be all hairy like you?" Antony asked with a grin, before dumping a bucket of water over his own head.
"It would make you look older," Guillaume pointed out reasonably, trying not to stare at the water trickling down the other man's muscular torso. He looked away, down at the mat of brownish-blond hair on his own chest, running his hands over his chest and arms to slick off most of the remaining water.
"Ah, but people underestimate me all the time because I look so young," Antony pointed out, then laughed, and spoke quietly as he dropped the bucket down the well a second time. "Besides, that pretty new kitchen maid likes me without a beard, I think. Did you not see how she was watching me at breakfast this morning?"
Guillaume grinned. "I am afraid it is not you she was staring at," he said calmly.
"Oh? Why not?" Antony asked, as he turned away and resumed hauling on the rope.
Guillaume glanced over, admiring the way Antony's muscles moved as he pulled up the heavy bucket. "I am sure it was not you she was looking at," he explained calmly, as he retrieved his sword, "Because it was me that she had just spent the night in bed with. And you're right, she is indeed very pretty," he added, then turned away, hiding a grin as he walked off.
Zevran/Fenris - Post!Eye of the Storm
"I hate boats," Zevran said, frowning at the ships lined up along the quay.
"Ships," Fenris corrected him, looking around distractedly. "They are called ships. I am not overly fond of them myself."
"Why? Do you get seasick?" Zevran asked curiously.
"No. But I prefer travelling by land. At least there I can run away if I have to."
"Ah. A good reason. It is, in fact, the very reason why I hate boats."
"Don't call them boats, it makes Isabela mad. Ah, and there she is"
"A good point. Fine. For this trip alone, I will endeavour to call them ships," Zevran agreed.
"For someone who grew up in a seaside town, you seem remarkably ignorant about ships and the sea," Fenris said, giving him a curious look.
Zevran grinned. "It is part of my charm."