#intersterren

✪  Rubbing their back after a stressful day or disappointment.  

   ❝ You’re my new favorite. Don’t tell Varric, but you’re my favorite now. Ohhh, fuck, that’s nice... ❞

     Mariam groans low, almost a rumble, the tension slowly leaving her shoulders, letting her head fall back slightly and closing her eyes. Who would’ve thought Fenris, grumpy, angry, mage-hating, rip-your-heart-out elven hotshot Fenris would actually know how give a pretty decent massage?

      ❝ You know, you’re pretty good with your hands now that I think about. If everything fails you could always make a living off of being a masseur. ❞ She opens her eyes and cocks her head to turn a shit eating grin at the elf, going as far as winking at him too for good measure. ❝ Ow- ! Ow, ouch, I’m kidding, I’m kidding! ❞

     She makes a show to try and hold back a chuckle, which failed spectacularly, but otherwise behaved herself for the next few minutes. She found herself relaxing, if not completely ( she probably never would, with the way life always managed to fuck them over ) very much more so than she had in years, probably. When he slows down almost to a stop, barely squeezing her shoulder, she figures he’s done.

     ❝ Thanks for this, Fenris. Maker knows I needed this. ❞  

     She moves slowly, lifting her hand to her shoulder and giving the man time to retract or stop her if he so wished, before placing it atop his and giving it a quick but firm squeeze. Then she gets up from the chair and stretches her back, bending almost like a cat, before turning towards the elf.

* (  LEGACIES SEASON ONE /  SENTENCE PROMPTS.

     Saying the question caught him off guard would be a gross understatement. He’d barely heard it, soft the way it was asked, almost in a whisper but he immediately froze on the spot, breath caught in his throat as his brain whirled in search of an answer to the very loaded question he was just asked. He was a man who made a living out of being good with his words, of knowing exactly what to say to butter up nobles and create sympathy with peasants, but when it came to moments like this, vulnerable, emotional moments that require not only tact but honestly as well, he is very much terrible with words.

     But right now someone else needs him to be. His friend needs him to be. So he swallows his hesitation and tries to express in words what he already thought, what he already knows.

     ❝ Cullen. Look at me. ❞ He placed his hand, if a bit awkwardly, on the man’s shoulders as he waited for him to oblige. ❝ A lesser man would’ve given in to the temptation long ago. A broken man would crack under the pressure and do the same. You’re none of these things. ❞

     His eyes soften and he smiles, just a little, at his Commander, his soldier, his friend.

♡  Kissing the corner of their eyes.

     When Dorian is focused on something, short of an actual emergency there is very little that will draw his attention from whatever it may be that he’s doing, especially when he’s ignoring his feelings and not processing them. Right then, he’s engrossed in one of the heavy tomes he’d requisitioned from one of Leliana’s scouts, one about Necromancy and Rites of the Dead. The book is as old as it is heavy and it hold a surprisingly useful amount of information on the practice, citing sources from Tevinter, Antiva and, most exciting of all, Nevarra’s Grand Necropolis itself! That was a real find and he’d have to thank her for it later, but for now... well, for now, he reads.

     His eyes don’t leave the page as the owner of the quarters he is currently occupying made his entrance, greeting him with a quiet ‘welcome back’ and a distracted hum. He did hear him shed the armor pieces and outer layers of his outfit in the background, but the information didn’t seem to really register until the elf himself had made his way across the room to the couch Dorian was leaning on and plopped down beside him.

     He instinctively shuffles closer, not taking his eyes off the book but leaning just enough that their arms touch at least. The affectionate gesture, though, catches him completely off guard and his brain freezes for a second, eyes going comically large in surprise  before they crinkle at the edges and there’s a small fond smile on his lips.