#scribey writes

Fluff | Papa!Alistair | Parenthood | Teething | 958 Words | AO3 Link |

Note: I haven’t written for a few months, so I’m a bit rusty. 

Alistair and Sienna had adjusted well to parenthood over the year their twin boys were born, having traded their weapons and armor for blankies, late night feedings, and all the hills and valleys that accompany new parents. However, as the boys grew and developed, so didn’t other little milestones of toddler and parenthood alike.

It was night three of another teething session when Alistair had finally convinced his wife to go to bed. The poor woman was exhausted to the point of confusion and didn’t put up much of an argument. They had agreed when the boys first started teething they would take turns but it seemed this time had been quite rough on poor Duncan and as such Sienna kicked herself into a state of mothering overdrive to keep her young son as comfortable as possibly, forgoing restful sleep in the meantime. Duncan’s twin, Elliott, was brought to their room so he could sleep (and Alistair found the younger twin quite the flip-flopper, having been kicked in the head more than once that first night) and not risk having two cranky boys on their hands.

Alistair rubbed his face with his hands, scratching lazily at his beard, and quietly walked into the boy’s bedroom in an attempt to not wake the babe if he were sleeping. Amber eyes scanned the bedroom, the clear sky helping to give some illumination to what lay before him and sitting in the middle of his crib was Duncan, arms raised and ready for his father to pick him up.

“Mahm, mahma…” the little one whimpered the only word he could say as he cuddled his father tightly when brought to the other’s chest.

Alistair chuckled softly as he grabbed Duncan’s soft, knit blanket and covered the little one before he took a seat in the nearby plush chair and rocked the toddler gently. “I don’t suppose we can get you to say papa tonight, eh Duncan?” He asked playfully, his voice quiet and low, and was answered with the squirming mass of his son making himself comfortable.

The child’s body radiated a feverish heat (“thank you teething and the small horrors you bring.” Alistair thinks) and Alistair felt terrible for the poor thing as he thought back to Sienna trying desperately to give relief to their son. Using what she learned long ago in the Circle, despite her inexperience in the healing arts, to help the pain and cold-like symptoms that usually accompanied a teething child, altering poultice recipes used for people suffering with oral maladies. He reassured her many times that she was doing the best she could and soon this would all be a memory they would embarrass their sons with years from now.

Another wiggle and the feel of thick snot against his neck snapped Alistair from his thoughts and he grimaced. “Let’s pretend you were aiming for my shirt.” He teased, trying his best to ignore the drying smear.

A few hours had passed with little interruption (and a bit of dozing) when Alistair was suddenly awake, the sounds of his son’s cries being the cause. He checked the toddler for the obvious signs starting with changing him, offering him something to drink, and finally rocking him in the chair. All with little success. Out of options, Alistair stood from the chair with his son’s cheek against his shoulder and started his way towards their bedroom to see if Sienna could decipher what the little one could want. As he walked but before he opened the bedroom door, Alistair noticed his son quieted and when he paused, Duncan’s bubbling cries started again.

“A walk? Why didn’t you just say so?” Alistair sighed with a weary grin and proceeded to walk the floors of their reasonably sized home. The toddler quieted and maneuvered himself higher up onto his father’s broad chest and let out a relieved ‘phew’ sound as the gentle movements soothed him. “Lucky you, I have plenty of practice at these late night pacings.”

“Not easy, huh? This teething business...constantly growing, you’re getting bigger and soon your world will too.” Alistair spoke quietly as the two walked the floors, careful not to bump or trip. “I can’t promise it’ll be easy, or fair, but you have your brother and you will always have me and your mother.” He added, adjusting his arms carefully. Duncan huffed softly and pushed away silky curls from his face with a sleepy hand.

There was an odd peace as he walked around the house, everything was calm and docile - the only sounds were his soft footfalls and those belonging to the night. Even their mabari was slumbering deep tonight. The young spotted creature was curled up in a giant snoring ball in his soft bed in the den.

Alistair walked from room to room quite a number of times, talking about all manner of things to sooth his son. All the places he wanted to take Duncan and his brother, the things he wanted to teach them, and other promises fathers make to their children. During these quiet, nighttime pacing talks he didn’t notice his son had fallen fast (and deep) asleep until the little body had slacked heavy against his chest and shoulder. He chuckled softly when he saw the sleeping, pouty face turned up at him and about-faced from the kitchen and returned to the plush chair set between two cribs. making himself comfortable as he laid his little one upon his chest and let his eyes close while he listened to the steady breathing of the child.

Sienna rolls her eyes and crosses her legs, looking over at her husband before back at the interviewer. “Oh, that’s easy.”

“Oh really?” Alistair quipped, leaning into the plush cushions of the couch, “because if I remember right, there’s a few things that are peeve worthy.” 

Sienna tried hiding the smiled Alistair was teasing out of her and cleared her throat, “he’s taken to rubbing his hair on my neck after washing when I’m not paying attention.” She did chuckle this time, albeit shortly. “I don’t even know where he got it from...Rileigh maybe?” She said, shrugging her shoulders. 

The interviewer raised a brow at Alistair, “well, where did you pick it up?” 

He closed his eyes and smiled, his head falling back against the cushion. “Sorry, I never kiss-and-tell.” He said, dragging the last words. 

Sienna flopped against Alistair, blue eyes wide, “no...NO! They wouldn’t.”

Amazing accompanying art by the hilarious @replicajester found here

Alistair was never one to just jump out of bed, not as quick as Cullen was, but when the snooze alarm went off for the second time, Alistair’s shoulder received a sleepy shove by his blonde curled boyfriend.

“Alistair…” the raspy baritone chided, eyes still shut tight, “either turn it off completely or get up.”

Amber eyes fluttered open and he rolled to shut off the obscene machine. “Well, someone’s grumpy.” Alistair quipped, his voice chipper despite his drowsy state of mind.

“Someone worked a twenty hour shift and a double the day before that.” Cullen said huskily, pulling Alistair’s pillow into a tight embrace.

“My poor, brave, overworked EMT.” Alistair cooed as he slid close to Cullen, rubbing his grown stubble across the blonde’s bicep. “I could make it up to you, you know, wake you up the best way as it were.”

“You could make it up by letting me sleep.” He replied, drawing the other’s pillow till it covered his face. Alistair chuckled and yawned, leaving his boyfriend’s side to start his day.

He scratched at himself, readjusting his morning erection as he slowly shuffled into the kitchen and part of him wondered how he didn’t manage to slip his sweatpants off during the night. He could strip himself from fully clothed to bare as the day he was born without waking once (which made for some rather unusual morning conversations on more than one occasion). He assumed he was still partially clothed because he was too entwined with Cullen, the blankets, or both. Maybe Charlie came in and plopped down on him during the night?

Where was that overgrown puppy anyway?

Alistair scratched at his stubble, not use to letting his facial hair grow so long, but it was winter and colder and Cullen seemed to like it so why not keep it, right? At least till spring reared it’s flowery head. He opened the door to the fridge, rooting around in it till his hand found the milk carton. Alistair didn’t even get it to his lips before he heard Cullen call from the bedroom.

“Get a glass! You weren’t raised in a barn.” The gruff bark from the bedroom had the actual Mabari trotting into take up the rest of the bed.

“I am!” Alistair replied with a smirk, though he had no intention of actually getting a glass. “Though if this were a barn, Cullen, I could just drink milk straight from the cow!” He added with several loud sucking smacks of his full lips. A disgusted scoff echoed out to him, which only widened Alistair’s smirk to a cheeky grin.

Alistair drank the milk from the carton of course with warm amber eyes closed and enjoying the private, tiny act of domestic rebellion with bratty glee. It was like eating a couple extra thick slices of his favorite cheddar after he had quite a bit already (or Cullen’s sweet tooth and his need to eat spoonfuls of that wonderful chocolate hazelnut spread straight from the jar that he knew about but Cullen didn’t know he knew...at least the eating the spread with a spoon straight from the jar part), it was a piece of his past bachelorhood he hadn’t any rush to break from.

RAG TOOTH!!!

Rag Tooth wandered the forests, leaving behind marks for way stations rebel mages could hide in during their journey to Redcliffe and not find trouble with the Templars. The fur draped over her shoulders held the chill at bay as the heavy spring rains drenched the very ground, every step with her heavy boots made a obscene wet noise.

Faint movement tugged at Rag Tooth’s sight, her masked face turning to the glint of armor just twenty paces from her. A Templar, lost, possibly wounded - even in these heavy rains she could smell the metallic tang of Lyrium. She crouched low, approaching the Templar like one would a rabid creature. 

“You’re a long way from your betters, boy.” She hissed, pulling her staff from its leather strap, bladed tip aimed for the joint where his breastplate and pauldron met. “Pity.”

“Stay-stay back!” The Templar cried, his voice was young and inexperienced. 

“There’s far worse than I that roams these woods, Templar. Chasind, wolves, bears, wayward hunters looking for a hole to bugger.” She teased him, noticing the nasty break in his leg. “Yet you’ve not tried to silence me, why?” She asked, still on guard.

“I’ve, I’ve.”

“You left without a philter, didn’t you?” Another question. She reached into her satchel, retrieving one of her own. “I bet you’d like this, wouldn’t you?”

“I’ll not take anything you have to offer, Apostate.” The Templar snapped, his tone giving away his impatience. 

“Strong words now, Templar, let’s see how you fare come morning.” She pulled herself up a few branches, making herself comfortable as she watched him with cold, blue eyes. 

“You intend to keep watch all night?” He cried up to her, she smiled behind her mask.

“I’m bored and weary from travel, watching you beg for Lyrium while the wolves gnaw at your maimed leg will prove quite entertaining.” Rag Tooth’s tone held no emotion. 

“I’ll not beg for anything.” His words were tinged with fear as he drew his helmet from his head. He was young and something pulled at her heart, a memory -twisted and faded- of a Templar not much older than the one lying on the ground now. 

“We shall see,” she said, quieter this time as she looked in the direction of a wolf’s howl. “We shall see.”

She has a name but remembers it as bitterly as she remembers the demons that attacked her all those years ago. ‘Never again’ she told her, ‘never again will I be weak.’

So enjoy these little bits I have for you now. 

(During the Broken Circle quest of Origins)

@captainceranna​ In for a pinch, in for a pound:

They reached the chamber, armored boots hitting the floor with heavy thuds. All came to an abrupt halt when Cullen stopped in his tracks.

“Why are we-” Alistair’s words rang hollow in Cullen’s ears as he spied the mage clutching her legs to her chest.

“I’m sorry…I’m so sorry.”She repeated, her voice hoarse and Cullen could barely recognize the apprentice that had stolen his thoughts throughout each day.

Red curls were matted with blood and gore, robes torn and sullied from Mkaer knows what. It wasn’t until the party stepped closer that dark ringed, feral eyes shot up to meet them. Eyes that looked just as demonic as the fiends they had felled. Not a spot of white could be seen, rich dark blue wells black.

“No, you’re not real. I won’t do it! I’ll die here first!” She screamed, throwing her arm up as to summon something but her mana was focused on the barrier she raised.

“Sienna…” Cullen could barely manage, his voice choked with emotion. “What-”

“GO AWAY! YOU’RE NOT HIM! YOU CANNOT BE HIM!” She screached, her bruised lips curled into a snarl.

A hand rested on Cullen’s shoulder and he spun to look at his fellow Grey Warden, who just shook his head. The mage Cullen had fallen for was gone, left was a broken woman.

They reached the chamber, armored boots hitting the floor with heavy thuds. All came to an abrupt halt when Cullen stopped in his tracks.

“Why are we-” Alistair’s words rang hollow in Cullen’s ears as he spied the mage clutching her legs to her chest.

“I’m sorry...I’m so sorry.”She repeated, her voice hoarse and Cullen could barely recognize the apprentice that held stole his thoughts throughout each day.

Red curls were matted with blood and gore, robes torn and sullied from Mkaer knows what. It wasn’t until the party stepped closer that dark ringed, feral eyes shot up to meet them. Eyes that looked just as demonic as the fiends they had felled. Not a spot of white could be seen, rich dark blue wells black.

“No, you’re not real. I won’t do it! I’ll die here first!” She screamed, throwing her arm up as to summon something but her mana was focused on the barrier she raised.

“Sienna...” Cullen could barely manage, his voice choked with emotion. “What-”

“GO AWAY! YOU’RE NOT HIM! YOU CANNOT BE HIM!” She screached, her bruised lips curled into a snarl.

13 - Co-stars AU (Sienna x Alistair, SFW)

-Hope you like it! Kinda spun it to work in my story JTWYA, 

“I can’t believe you talked me into that.” Alistair groused as he pulled his head free from the headphones. Sienna laughed while she grabbed their things.

“I could have asked Leliana or Zevran to help me out tonight.” She said with a wink, opening the door from the small studio room, “I mean, you got to promote your fight and the gym. Not to mention you were absolutely adorable when we got that caller.”

Sienna turned a few switches on the many boards just outside the studio, setting up a playlist to keep listeners occupied before the next DJ came in, Alistair watched her practiced motions and in no time she was done, music trickling over the speakers softly.

“Maker, please don’t remind me how quick I am to embarrass myself on radio.” He laughed, holding the door open, a blast of cold air flooding the tiny station. “You owe me.”

“Owe you?” Sienna scoffed with a smirk, “you got free advertising for your fight.”

“Yes, and while I’m incredibly grateful my love, I had to tell a little old lady what kind of date I would take her on.” He quipped, watching his girlfriend strut past him.

“You could have passed the caller to me, Alistair.” Sienna tutted locking the door after he joined her outside.

“And dissappointed a fan, I think not.” He laughed.

“I’m failing to see the problem.” She huffed, searching her pockets for her pack and lighter.

“We could always use another trainer.” Alistair’s sing-song tenor bounced on the air as the two hastily walked to his car.

“Oh no, I’ve been taking lessons for what, a month at best? There is no way I’m stepping in the ring to train someone.” Another scoff left her lips before she pulled the blue tinged cigarette from it’s pack.

“Yeah, well help with a couple classes and I’ll forget about old women wanting to pinch my cheeks.” A smirk pulled at his lips when he saw Sienna’s head drop backwards, the non-verbal surrender. “And any time in the ring couldn’t hurt, your footing is terrible.”

Sienna made a face, but didn’t put up any further arguments. “You better hope my foot doesn’t find it’s way towards your hindquarters, Theirin.” She stuck her tongue out as they got in the car and drove off.