Bits of fic...
A collection of fills for this week’s Tuesday Prompt-Fest over at dragon_age , cleaned up a bit and reposted (mostly for archival purposes…). As is to be expected, these are all Dragon Age-related...
The Adventures of Feathers the Griffon
Prompt: the adventures of feathers the griffon
Rating: G Word Count: 227
Characters/Pairing :Malcolm Hawke, Baby!Hawke
Summary: Bedtime at the Hawke residence
“Daddy, tell me a story!”
He studied his daughter with the indulgent eye of a parent, watching her little body bounce on the bed, her stuffed mabari clutched tight to her chest.
“Sorry, pet. Your mother already declared bedtime.”
Big blue eyes filled with tears, her lower lip trembled and he could feel his resolve slipping. Oh, Maker, but this child had him wrapped around her finger, didn’t she? Ah well.
“All right, all right. I yield. One story then you go straight to bed, agreed?”
She nodded furiously, dark hair flying about her head. “Thank you, Daddy!” she said as she tucked herself against his side, head tilted up toward him, beaming.
“You’re welcome, sweetling. Now then. What story do you want to hear tonight? Ser Aveline? Hafter and the werewolves?
” She shook her head. “I want a new story tonight,” she declared, small face deadly serious. “One with griffons in.”
He huffed out a laugh, running a hand through her hair. “Griffons? Are you sure?”
A decisive nod was his answer and she stared up at him expectantly. “As you wish.” He paused to gather his thoughts, mind’s eye full of wings and paws and beaks. “These are the adventures of Feathers the Griffon, proud steed of the First Warden…”
Outside the closed bedroom door listening to her husband weave his tale, Leandra Hawke smiled.
You’re The One Who Breaks My Fall
Prompt: you’re the one who breaks my fall
Rating: PG
Word Count: 124
Characters/Pairing: Anders, M!Hawke
Summary: On the merits of learning to duck.
“Oh, oww. My ribs. My spleen. My head.”
“Shit. Anders, I’m sorry!” Hawke rolls to his feet and holds out a hand to help the healer up. “Are you all right?”
The blue glow of healing - easily differentiated from Justice’s harsher hue - surrounds Anders’ injuries. He winces but stays standing and Hawke breathes a sigh of relief at the sight. As the blue fades away, Anders lifts his head to send Hawke the kind of death glare he usually reserves for templars and darkspawn. Hawke ignores him in favor of clapping a hand on his shoulder.
“Some friendly advice, Anders: next time you see a two hundred pound man in full plate armor flying through the air toward you, don’t try to catch him…”
Graffiti
Prompt: graffiti
Rating: PG
Word Count: 128
Characters/Pairing: M!Hawke, Leandra
Summary: In which Leandra Hawke is a little too observant for her son’s good.
“Darling, that carving on the stair rail: do you know where it came from?”
Hawke froze halfway up the stairs in question, pivoting on the balls of his feet to face his mother, eyes wide.
“I…hadn’t realized you knew about that,” he muttered, mind working furiously to concoct an explanation that was not ‘Isabela is incapable of removing her head from the gutter and has no qualms about sharing this fact with the world.’ But his quick wit failed him when he needed it the most and all he could do was stare blankly at Leandra. She smiled at him, shaking her head in fond amusement.
“Yes, well, next time you see your pirate friend, give her my compliments, would you? Her attention to detail is quite remarkable.”
My Cooking Will Kill Us
Prompt: my cooking will kill us
Rating: PG
Word Count: 199
Characters/Pairing:F!Hawke, Anders
Summary: In which cooking duties are determined and the companions begin to doubt Hawke’s sanity.
“I think it's Anders' turn to cook tonight,” Hawke announced, four days into their trek across Sundermount. The mage in question frowned.
“No, I cooked the first night. Then Merrill, then Aveline. Which makes it your turn.”
“What? No. Nonononono. No.” With each consecutive no Hawke shook her head a little harder until she was all but slapping herself in the face with her own hair. “I don't cook. I'm not allowed to - it's in the rule book. My cooking will kill us.” At Anders' raised eyebrow, she rushed to explain. “No, really, it will. It will take on a life of its own, rise out of the cooking pot and murder us all. Death by reanimated rabbit. And we are all far too pretty to die at the hands of zombie food.”
Silence fell over the entire camp as Hawke's companions edged slightly away from her, eyes wide. She crossed her harms in front of her chest with ah huff and glared right back at them.
“Fine,” she conceded with typical bad grace, stomping over to their cooking fire. “Just don't come crying to me when the stew comes after you with a hatchet. I did warn you...”
The Adventures of Feathers the Griffon
Prompt: the adventures of feathers the griffon
Rating: G Word Count: 227
Characters/Pairing :Malcolm Hawke, Baby!Hawke
Summary: Bedtime at the Hawke residence
“Daddy, tell me a story!”
He studied his daughter with the indulgent eye of a parent, watching her little body bounce on the bed, her stuffed mabari clutched tight to her chest.
“Sorry, pet. Your mother already declared bedtime.”
Big blue eyes filled with tears, her lower lip trembled and he could feel his resolve slipping. Oh, Maker, but this child had him wrapped around her finger, didn’t she? Ah well.
“All right, all right. I yield. One story then you go straight to bed, agreed?”
She nodded furiously, dark hair flying about her head. “Thank you, Daddy!” she said as she tucked herself against his side, head tilted up toward him, beaming.
“You’re welcome, sweetling. Now then. What story do you want to hear tonight? Ser Aveline? Hafter and the werewolves?
” She shook her head. “I want a new story tonight,” she declared, small face deadly serious. “One with griffons in.”
He huffed out a laugh, running a hand through her hair. “Griffons? Are you sure?”
A decisive nod was his answer and she stared up at him expectantly. “As you wish.” He paused to gather his thoughts, mind’s eye full of wings and paws and beaks. “These are the adventures of Feathers the Griffon, proud steed of the First Warden…”
Outside the closed bedroom door listening to her husband weave his tale, Leandra Hawke smiled.
You’re The One Who Breaks My Fall
Prompt: you’re the one who breaks my fall
Rating: PG
Word Count: 124
Characters/Pairing: Anders, M!Hawke
Summary: On the merits of learning to duck.
“Oh, oww. My ribs. My spleen. My head.”
“Shit. Anders, I’m sorry!” Hawke rolls to his feet and holds out a hand to help the healer up. “Are you all right?”
The blue glow of healing - easily differentiated from Justice’s harsher hue - surrounds Anders’ injuries. He winces but stays standing and Hawke breathes a sigh of relief at the sight. As the blue fades away, Anders lifts his head to send Hawke the kind of death glare he usually reserves for templars and darkspawn. Hawke ignores him in favor of clapping a hand on his shoulder.
“Some friendly advice, Anders: next time you see a two hundred pound man in full plate armor flying through the air toward you, don’t try to catch him…”
Graffiti
Prompt: graffiti
Rating: PG
Word Count: 128
Characters/Pairing: M!Hawke, Leandra
Summary: In which Leandra Hawke is a little too observant for her son’s good.
“Darling, that carving on the stair rail: do you know where it came from?”
Hawke froze halfway up the stairs in question, pivoting on the balls of his feet to face his mother, eyes wide.
“I…hadn’t realized you knew about that,” he muttered, mind working furiously to concoct an explanation that was not ‘Isabela is incapable of removing her head from the gutter and has no qualms about sharing this fact with the world.’ But his quick wit failed him when he needed it the most and all he could do was stare blankly at Leandra. She smiled at him, shaking her head in fond amusement.
“Yes, well, next time you see your pirate friend, give her my compliments, would you? Her attention to detail is quite remarkable.”
My Cooking Will Kill Us
Prompt: my cooking will kill us
Rating: PG
Word Count: 199
Characters/Pairing:F!Hawke, Anders
Summary: In which cooking duties are determined and the companions begin to doubt Hawke’s sanity.
“I think it's Anders' turn to cook tonight,” Hawke announced, four days into their trek across Sundermount. The mage in question frowned.
“No, I cooked the first night. Then Merrill, then Aveline. Which makes it your turn.”
“What? No. Nonononono. No.” With each consecutive no Hawke shook her head a little harder until she was all but slapping herself in the face with her own hair. “I don't cook. I'm not allowed to - it's in the rule book. My cooking will kill us.” At Anders' raised eyebrow, she rushed to explain. “No, really, it will. It will take on a life of its own, rise out of the cooking pot and murder us all. Death by reanimated rabbit. And we are all far too pretty to die at the hands of zombie food.”
Silence fell over the entire camp as Hawke's companions edged slightly away from her, eyes wide. She crossed her harms in front of her chest with ah huff and glared right back at them.
“Fine,” she conceded with typical bad grace, stomping over to their cooking fire. “Just don't come crying to me when the stew comes after you with a hatchet. I did warn you...”