storytellertm:
varric arched a brow at that, a smirk of amusement tugging his mouth upward. “well, elves and werewolves, if any of those old folk tales are to be believed. and since i’m clearly not an elf - ” he leaned closer toward the fire, casting a narrow-eyed look at the other through the flames, “ - you might want to be afraid.” he lowered his voice in feigned threat, though the curl of his lips easily indicated at his teasing. within moments, it shifted into a playful wink and he straightened back, idly stretching. at emrys’ mention of the chill, however, he gave pause. varric himself didn’t feel too cold - some of his companions likened him to being a bit of a walking furnace, with the warmth he radiated - but he shifted around nonetheless, looking to see if there was anything that would help. “maybe we should’ve brought extra bedding,” he joked. without any spare material, however, all varric could offer was a distraction. with any luck, it might help the other settle. with a hum, he started, “i ever tell you about this one guy? orlesian. miserable bastard. hated the cold, but lived up in the highlands. so one day, he gets into his head that the best way to keep warm is to build the world’s biggest bonfire…”
the laughter warms the chill of his bones, night air whipping around them, even the fire seeming to dance as the dwarf spins his story. there is something to be said for the joy a simple story can bring, merriment twinkling in the elf’s eyes, the corners crinkled in mirth, shaped like crescent moons. his fingers curling in the desert sands, the still sun-warmed earth a comfort as the fine grains sift and slip through his fingers as he watches the other man, entirely enrapt.
as the tale comes to a close, emrys’ laughter is bubbling, bright as it bursts from the depths of his belly, head thrown back before it flutters and settles. his voice is soft in the moonlight, fingers twitching before he brushes the sand from them off at his knees, drawing them close. his curiosity piqued, ❛ is he––– exemplary of his sort ? orlesians ? ❜












