Challenge Response - Fairy Tales - Rapunzevran
Title: Rapunzevran
Rating: K+
Word Count: 1047 words.
Summary: Alistair stumbles across a tower with a most intriguing occupant and somehow manages to find himself in the middle of a rescue.
Notes: Written in response to the challenge (from the dao_challenge community on LiveJournal), "Rewrite a classic fairy tale (Snow White, Sleeping Beauty, Beauty and the Beast, etc.) with the characters from Dragon Age."
The first time Alistair heard it, it had confused him. The rich baritone didn't fit in with the general sound of the forest, and he had slowly turned the horse around, looking for the singer. He had wandered for another half hour before he finally located the tower, and he dismounted to approach it. His horse shied at any attempt to bring it closer, so he tethered it and put his hand on his sword hilt as he walked, reaching up with his free hand to shade his eyes.
At the very top, there was a figure, leaning a little ways out of the window. Whoever he was, he'd stopped singing, dropping back down to a hum that managed to carry all the way down to Alistair's ears. Alistair stood perfectly still for a minute, and then he called out, "What are you doing up there?"
The person-- the man, Alistair supposed, based on the voice-- jumped, then leaned out a little more so that they could look down. He waved up at them, still shading his eyes with one hand so that he could see a little better. In the bright light, it was hard to see.
"Oho! Hello there!" The man waved back, and Alistair managed a little smile. "Kind of stuck here for now. Working on finding a way down." The accent was odd, one that Alistair wasn't familiar with.
"How'd you get up there?" Alistair tilted his head, curiously, surveying the tower as he considered it. There was no door that he could see, and it was very tall and smooth on the sides. No handholds to climb up on.
"Witch put me up here." A shrug, and then Alistair was frowning slightly.
"What did you do to be put up there?"
A laugh rolled down, and Alistair found it a little infectious, his own severe expression slipping in favor of a slight grin. "Nothing, I swear. Been up here now for years though. Hey, can you check something for me?"
Alistair shrugged a little, dropping his hand to his sword and simply squinting up in the bright light. "Sure? What am I checking?"
A loud thump answered his question, and Alistair stared blankly for a minute at the cord of blond hair that had fallen to the ground, landing in a coil. It was braided. He swallowed slightly.
"Can you cut a lock off of the bottom of that?"
Another moment of silence, and Alistair sighed before he bent down to locate the bottom of the braid. He didn't stop to think about why he was doing it, he just did. Finding it, he pulled out a small dagger and sliced, pleased whenever a few hairs sheared off. "Yeah, why?"
"Climb up."
Alistair hesitated, certain he hadn't heard that right. "What?" he called back, and then a hand stuck out of the tower and impatiently waved him up. He sighed, studied the hair for a moment, and then started shedding his outer armor. Wouldn't do for it to catch the hair and break it, or have it tangle in the joint of the metal pieces. So much for making it to Redcliffe in time for dinner.
He wrapped the braid around his arm, very carefully tugging on it to make sure it wouldn't give, and then he set up. He heard a slight squeal, and he winced, realizing that the braid was still very attached to the head of the young man he'd seen earlier. He moved as quickly as he could, trying not to linger. By the time he reached the top, he was gasping slightly for breath, and the man was rubbing at his temples, scowling.
The man was unusual in every way, a creature unlike anything Alistair had seen in Ferelden. Smooth, darkly tanned skin, sharp features, and above all, he was an elf. He was also wearing a rich, dark green dress that fell all the way to the floor. Alistair grinned faintly. "What now?" he asked, leaning back for just a moment. The man frowned at him, then held out the braid, like Alistair should know. Sighing, he took out the dagger and moved to cut.
"Not there! Shoulder length." The elf redirected him, and Alistair obediently cut exactly where he was shown. The man shook his head, sighing happily at the feel of all that hair suddenly gone. He didn't let go of the braid though, and instead he carefully looped it around a stone loop in the balcony outside. An odd knot, and he tugged it sharply before turning back. "Let's go," he said, quite happily.
"I don't even know your name," Alistair muttered, but he was doing as told, checking the braid and moving to begin the trek down.
"Zevran." The elf smiled and stopped him easily enough before he wrapped his arms around Alistair's shoulders. Somehow, Alistair made it all the way down the braid, with Zevran clinging to his back. They reached the bottom, and Zevran helped him gather up his gear, although he didn't take the time to put it all on. Instead, they both darted toward the horse, carrying the metal pieces under their arms. Alistair took the time to put Zevran on the horse-- that skirt was not conducive to travel on horseback-- and then he pulled himself up too. Then they rode off, leaving the tower and a witch who was going to be exceptionally put out whenever she returned. Alistair decided he wouldn't think about that.
Zevran was seemingly content in his arms, and Alistair frowned a little at him, pointedly looking at the dress before looking back up. The elf wrinkled his nose. "Apparently, she prefers girls," he said by way of explanation, and Alistair was certain that he didn't want to know more than that.
"Where are you going to go?"
"With you, of course. You rescued me. You're responsible." Zevran didn't seem too concerned by it, instead smiling and looking around Alistair as they rode through the woods. "This is lovely," he sighed, his grin widening. "Haven't been out of that tower in years."
"With me?" Alistair's eyes opened wide, and then he sighed, knowing that it wouldn't exactly be fair to just dump the elf somewhere. Eamon was not going to like this.
Also available for reading on:
[[ Archive of Our Own | Fanfiction.net | Lunaescence* ]]
*Lunaescence can take up to 48 hours to display updates, as it is a moderated archive and all new work must be approved prior to it showing up.
Rating: K+
Word Count: 1047 words.
Summary: Alistair stumbles across a tower with a most intriguing occupant and somehow manages to find himself in the middle of a rescue.
Notes: Written in response to the challenge (from the dao_challenge community on LiveJournal), "Rewrite a classic fairy tale (Snow White, Sleeping Beauty, Beauty and the Beast, etc.) with the characters from Dragon Age."
The first time Alistair heard it, it had confused him. The rich baritone didn't fit in with the general sound of the forest, and he had slowly turned the horse around, looking for the singer. He had wandered for another half hour before he finally located the tower, and he dismounted to approach it. His horse shied at any attempt to bring it closer, so he tethered it and put his hand on his sword hilt as he walked, reaching up with his free hand to shade his eyes.
At the very top, there was a figure, leaning a little ways out of the window. Whoever he was, he'd stopped singing, dropping back down to a hum that managed to carry all the way down to Alistair's ears. Alistair stood perfectly still for a minute, and then he called out, "What are you doing up there?"
The person-- the man, Alistair supposed, based on the voice-- jumped, then leaned out a little more so that they could look down. He waved up at them, still shading his eyes with one hand so that he could see a little better. In the bright light, it was hard to see.
"Oho! Hello there!" The man waved back, and Alistair managed a little smile. "Kind of stuck here for now. Working on finding a way down." The accent was odd, one that Alistair wasn't familiar with.
"How'd you get up there?" Alistair tilted his head, curiously, surveying the tower as he considered it. There was no door that he could see, and it was very tall and smooth on the sides. No handholds to climb up on.
"Witch put me up here." A shrug, and then Alistair was frowning slightly.
"What did you do to be put up there?"
A laugh rolled down, and Alistair found it a little infectious, his own severe expression slipping in favor of a slight grin. "Nothing, I swear. Been up here now for years though. Hey, can you check something for me?"
Alistair shrugged a little, dropping his hand to his sword and simply squinting up in the bright light. "Sure? What am I checking?"
A loud thump answered his question, and Alistair stared blankly for a minute at the cord of blond hair that had fallen to the ground, landing in a coil. It was braided. He swallowed slightly.
"Can you cut a lock off of the bottom of that?"
Another moment of silence, and Alistair sighed before he bent down to locate the bottom of the braid. He didn't stop to think about why he was doing it, he just did. Finding it, he pulled out a small dagger and sliced, pleased whenever a few hairs sheared off. "Yeah, why?"
"Climb up."
Alistair hesitated, certain he hadn't heard that right. "What?" he called back, and then a hand stuck out of the tower and impatiently waved him up. He sighed, studied the hair for a moment, and then started shedding his outer armor. Wouldn't do for it to catch the hair and break it, or have it tangle in the joint of the metal pieces. So much for making it to Redcliffe in time for dinner.
He wrapped the braid around his arm, very carefully tugging on it to make sure it wouldn't give, and then he set up. He heard a slight squeal, and he winced, realizing that the braid was still very attached to the head of the young man he'd seen earlier. He moved as quickly as he could, trying not to linger. By the time he reached the top, he was gasping slightly for breath, and the man was rubbing at his temples, scowling.
The man was unusual in every way, a creature unlike anything Alistair had seen in Ferelden. Smooth, darkly tanned skin, sharp features, and above all, he was an elf. He was also wearing a rich, dark green dress that fell all the way to the floor. Alistair grinned faintly. "What now?" he asked, leaning back for just a moment. The man frowned at him, then held out the braid, like Alistair should know. Sighing, he took out the dagger and moved to cut.
"Not there! Shoulder length." The elf redirected him, and Alistair obediently cut exactly where he was shown. The man shook his head, sighing happily at the feel of all that hair suddenly gone. He didn't let go of the braid though, and instead he carefully looped it around a stone loop in the balcony outside. An odd knot, and he tugged it sharply before turning back. "Let's go," he said, quite happily.
"I don't even know your name," Alistair muttered, but he was doing as told, checking the braid and moving to begin the trek down.
"Zevran." The elf smiled and stopped him easily enough before he wrapped his arms around Alistair's shoulders. Somehow, Alistair made it all the way down the braid, with Zevran clinging to his back. They reached the bottom, and Zevran helped him gather up his gear, although he didn't take the time to put it all on. Instead, they both darted toward the horse, carrying the metal pieces under their arms. Alistair took the time to put Zevran on the horse-- that skirt was not conducive to travel on horseback-- and then he pulled himself up too. Then they rode off, leaving the tower and a witch who was going to be exceptionally put out whenever she returned. Alistair decided he wouldn't think about that.
Zevran was seemingly content in his arms, and Alistair frowned a little at him, pointedly looking at the dress before looking back up. The elf wrinkled his nose. "Apparently, she prefers girls," he said by way of explanation, and Alistair was certain that he didn't want to know more than that.
"Where are you going to go?"
"With you, of course. You rescued me. You're responsible." Zevran didn't seem too concerned by it, instead smiling and looking around Alistair as they rode through the woods. "This is lovely," he sighed, his grin widening. "Haven't been out of that tower in years."
"With me?" Alistair's eyes opened wide, and then he sighed, knowing that it wouldn't exactly be fair to just dump the elf somewhere. Eamon was not going to like this.
Also available for reading on:
[[ Archive of Our Own | Fanfiction.net | Lunaescence* ]]
*Lunaescence can take up to 48 hours to display updates, as it is a moderated archive and all new work must be approved prior to it showing up.