Opening the archives: Dragon Age fic
My only New Year's promise is to post more fic! In that spirit, here's some Dragon Age fic I wrote this year but never posted or posted only anonymously. These were all written sometime in the spring/summer. (There's also a chapter of a certain pirate fic, but I'm holding onto that for now since I still have some hope of finishing it.)
Impropriety (will get you everywhere) (link to AO3)
A kink meme fill
1907 words
Starring: M!Hawke/Anders
In which Anders has made himself at home at the Hawke mansion and sarcastic!Hawke is a dominant bastard.
Innocent Eyes (link to AO3)
A kink meme fill
5143 words
Starring: Bethany, M!Hawke/Anders/Fenris, M!Hawke/Maraas, a variety of male characters
In which an orgy happens and Bethany is a voyer.
Liars and Cheats
~480 words
Starring: Hawke/Anders
In which my happy hippie Hawke was feeling rather dramatic after that first playthrough.
Liars and Cheats
"You know, I never liked that scarf you gave me." The first words Hawke had spoken since they'd left the Gallows, left Kirkwall to burn.
"The ocean-green one, with gold thread? The one I gave you for our anniversary?" A pause. "You're lying."
"I know."
Hawke was lying about other things too - I can't love someone like you, I don't ever want to see you again - yet here they were, aboard Isabela's ship, together. Anders stood at his side in his old threadbare coat, where he belonged, although he had no right, not anymore. It hurt Hawke to look at him, so he didn't.
He remembered a hundred little kindnesses, romantic gestures he didn't know how to return but had appreciated all the same with a sort of embarrassed pleasure. The worried looks he got before yet another crazy mission, the nimble fingers that tightened the straps of his armour in any case. Lying together on a narrow bed on a cold morning, too entangled to feel the chill, Anders's fingers sending sparks of heat along his spine under the blanket. His lover's face, smudged with ink from the way he used to poke at his lip with the sharp end of the quill, or smoothed over in sleep, the lines of laughter and worry all the more pronounced, or transformed by the dark joy of battle into something dangerous, curses spilling from his lips. His lover's face in pain and in pleasure and any combination of the two, opened up.
Hawke didn't even know his real name. The realisation came late, like all the unpleasant truths he was so very good at avoiding.
The time for avoidance was over. Even now, while his first reaction was to recoil in bitterness and fear, he knew he had made his choice a long time ago. He was bitter for the way things had turned out, for the mindless hate and needless slaughter that had swept Anders with them. He was afraid because he'd had a taste of just how much he was willing to forgive.
Hawke glanced at the man beside him, blond hair streaked with ash and blood, eyes dull and brown and lost now without the spark of Vengeance or Justice, and for all his anger he couldn't find it in himself to hate.
He turned away, his boot-heels clanking against the polished deck in way that sounded final. He heard a sigh behind him, held breath escaping involuntarily.
"You coming or what?"
Hawke tossed the words over his shoulder carelessly because that was what had gotten him this far, for good or ill.
He didn't hold out his hand, but when hesitant fingers touched his wrist, he knew his own grip to be bruising as he led them below-decks.
In the distance over the waves, the faint orange glow was Kirkwall, burning.
More fic posts and Yuletide squee to come soon!
Impropriety (will get you everywhere) (link to AO3)
A kink meme fill
1907 words
Starring: M!Hawke/Anders
In which Anders has made himself at home at the Hawke mansion and sarcastic!Hawke is a dominant bastard.
Innocent Eyes (link to AO3)
A kink meme fill
5143 words
Starring: Bethany, M!Hawke/Anders/Fenris, M!Hawke/Maraas, a variety of male characters
In which an orgy happens and Bethany is a voyer.
Liars and Cheats
~480 words
Starring: Hawke/Anders
In which my happy hippie Hawke was feeling rather dramatic after that first playthrough.
Liars and Cheats
"You know, I never liked that scarf you gave me." The first words Hawke had spoken since they'd left the Gallows, left Kirkwall to burn.
"The ocean-green one, with gold thread? The one I gave you for our anniversary?" A pause. "You're lying."
"I know."
Hawke was lying about other things too - I can't love someone like you, I don't ever want to see you again - yet here they were, aboard Isabela's ship, together. Anders stood at his side in his old threadbare coat, where he belonged, although he had no right, not anymore. It hurt Hawke to look at him, so he didn't.
He remembered a hundred little kindnesses, romantic gestures he didn't know how to return but had appreciated all the same with a sort of embarrassed pleasure. The worried looks he got before yet another crazy mission, the nimble fingers that tightened the straps of his armour in any case. Lying together on a narrow bed on a cold morning, too entangled to feel the chill, Anders's fingers sending sparks of heat along his spine under the blanket. His lover's face, smudged with ink from the way he used to poke at his lip with the sharp end of the quill, or smoothed over in sleep, the lines of laughter and worry all the more pronounced, or transformed by the dark joy of battle into something dangerous, curses spilling from his lips. His lover's face in pain and in pleasure and any combination of the two, opened up.
Hawke didn't even know his real name. The realisation came late, like all the unpleasant truths he was so very good at avoiding.
The time for avoidance was over. Even now, while his first reaction was to recoil in bitterness and fear, he knew he had made his choice a long time ago. He was bitter for the way things had turned out, for the mindless hate and needless slaughter that had swept Anders with them. He was afraid because he'd had a taste of just how much he was willing to forgive.
Hawke glanced at the man beside him, blond hair streaked with ash and blood, eyes dull and brown and lost now without the spark of Vengeance or Justice, and for all his anger he couldn't find it in himself to hate.
He turned away, his boot-heels clanking against the polished deck in way that sounded final. He heard a sigh behind him, held breath escaping involuntarily.
"You coming or what?"
Hawke tossed the words over his shoulder carelessly because that was what had gotten him this far, for good or ill.
He didn't hold out his hand, but when hesitant fingers touched his wrist, he knew his own grip to be bruising as he led them below-decks.
In the distance over the waves, the faint orange glow was Kirkwall, burning.
More fic posts and Yuletide squee to come soon!