Dragon Age: Origins/Awakening, Part 7: PERMANENTLY FROZEN

[dragonage_kink]

Dragon Age: Origins - Part 7 is
PERMANENTLY FROZEN

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RE: g u t t e r e d [ 2a / ? ]

[anonymous]

And a not very small, not so new part of Nathaniel argued against his dread; for Madha'in was a sympathetic friendly thing under all that pensive scowling, with hands that knew their way under armor; and half up a flight of stairs to a healer's office, the inky black spill of Madh's loose-braided hair was not unpleasant to rest a cheek against; and there was an apology strung delicate through the air between them, but Nathaniel was not sorry for the attempt to reclaim his birthright, and Madha'in could not be sorry for the death of Rendon Howe even if he were the culprit Mahariel (which, it had been said, was slightly racist to even suggest).

So up the stairs they went, new Warden and new recruit, Nathaniel politely interested in Madh's Dalish lineage (Sabrae, traded as a babe from Olnin that patrolled the coasts of Antiva, which explained the over-protective cousin they'd left); and Madh politely interested in Nathaniel's shemlen aspect on 'inheritance' (for Dalish owned naught, but had 'inherited' much, none of it enviable).

And, healed only to be poisoned again by bitter flaming demonblood, Nathaniel would again ache in the opening of his eyes, and feel Madha'in before he could see him, easing into the recognition of the body sitting them both upright so as not to reveal his growing affection (knowing damn well what Dalishmen thought of shems and their clumsy assumptions over things like personal space and bodily autonomy and elven sex appeal and Nathaniel needed friends in the Wardens if he was to find his revenge; otherwise he'd have risked it right then and there, risked a broken arm for two breaths of pleasure, risked the public rejection for the private victory; but found himself content, instead, to sit and rest his chin across the top of warm black hair the way a lumbering scar-mangled Mabari had trotted up to rest his chin against Madh's knee.

And though all Wardens grew accustomed to the poison in their veins, the hunger, the nightmares, the new heat, there would linger in Nathaniel's lungs a dull ache, as if coming home to find that home overtaken by strangers, as if meeting a stranger to find their company felt like coming home.