happy father's day :')
Father’s day.
Smoke, lots of it, bleeding into the carpet and turning it from a snowy hue to something more pallor and greys. Lots of dark liquor overfilling a cup and staining the table with lighter rings. His mother’s voice carrying, reminding him that his father was the reason they were here — the reason that he was the second son, the spare.
the spare.
There were no flowers on graves after he passed, no cards or happy memories passed around. It was bitterness from his mother, with a wineglass betwixt her gem adorned hands ( she did it to hold onto the last bit of home – for Kirkwall would never be enough ) and egging his elder brother to join in. When she was gone, there was no remembrance for either of them, just a day he was more lost in his thoughts than others, more burned pages and lost moments ( and Bartrand was the only one he ever interred — and even then that was for something unrelated to remembrance).
It was something foreign, almost lost on him — the words practically another language and the actions fairly unknown. But it’s all enough to rouse him, for thumb and forefinger to pull the glass from the bridge of his nose and another hand to push his work aside. A great fear is to be like them — a great fear is to fall into that same cycle.
So he always stops, for every question and entertains every moment– especially when it comes to Cole.
These moments are important, being there is important. It’s the chance to break that cycle and to start caving his own path in the world, a path that isn’t dominated Kirkwall, the Inquisition or even Hawke — a path that is forged all on his own. And this is the path he wants, Cole doesn’t care that he was the spare or that he almost lost himself to the bottle before. Cole cares about him, and even ( oh so daringly looks up to him — which is a mistake all on its own ).
Father and Son — doesn’t always have to be in misery.Bartrand was wrong.
That moment is always taken, even though he fits under Cole’s arms, even though Cole is sometimes a wisp and only he can hear him — family is always found, he found his in Kirkwall and now Cole has found his here. He tucks under one of his arms, wrapping one of his own around the boy’s waist.
“C’mon, kid — let’s go stir up some trouble at the bar.”
