Red haired assassins and pale demon lords. Pink haired young dragons and ladies with swords. Muscley turtles and mystery twins. These are a few of my favorite things. Greetings fellow nerdlings. I am new among your people and am known as Star (by like...
Summery: After a long and sticky fight, Uraraka and Bakugo find themselves faced with a less than ideal sleeping arrangement. Bakugo proceeds to have a revelation and a mental breakdown. Not necessarily in that order.
Note: After over a year Iâm back on my nonsense have finally completed the second notch on my list of alphabetical fluff cliche prompts by @memorizingthedigitsofpiâÂ
Summery: Ochako thought that manning Class 1-A's kissing booth was going to be little more than an unfortunate way to spend an hour. When Bakugo shows up with a hand full of yen and a challenge though Ochako finds herself facing a whole series of uncomfortable truths. School festivals are as good a place for self-discovery as any right?
Note: I'm trying to get back into writing fanfiction after being out of the game for a while so please be gentle. I found this super cute list of alphabetical fluff cliche prompts by @memorizingthedigitsofpiâ and now I want to try writing for them all. We'll see how that goes.
Ochako was totally, utterly, and completely bored.
The kind of bored that made every minute feel like an hour. The kind of bored that made watching paint dry feel like a three-ring circus. The kind of bored that made her long for the piles of unfinished homework sitting in her dorm.
It really was too bad, because it was a beautiful day. The sun shone cheerfully over the annual U.A. High School festival. Laughter and music floated through the air as crowds of people wandered from stall to stall enjoying the food and entertainment. All in all, it was a gorgeous day filled with sounds of merriment ringing out from every corner.
After the class performance last year, a kissing booth did seem a bit lame in comparison. Still, the class had voted, and the kissing booth had won so there really wasnât much of a choice in the matter.
Personally, Ochako was pretty sure that Mineta, Sero, and Kaminari had rigged the voting somehow but she had no proof so she couldnât really complain too much. In retaliation, the rest of the girls had unanimously decided to tape the little creep to the roof for the duration of the festival or none of them would have gotten behind the counter.
At first, the whole idea had seemed really embarrassing and time consuming. Fortunately, the class had agreed to split manning the booth up over the two days and each shift lasted only an hour giving everyone time to experience the festival. None of them had gotten to enjoy it the year before so this year they really wanted to take advantage.
Ochako hadnât had the highest hopes for manning a kissing booth. At best it was going to be embarrassing and at worst downright disgusting. During the weeks leading up she had prepared for the worst.
What she had not prepared for however was for it to be so boring.
Almost forty minutes had passed since sheâd taken over for Momo and so far, she had only had two customers. Near the start of her shift Iida and Deku had dropped by and each bought a kiss on the cheek.
It had been more silly than anything, though Deku looked like he was about to pass out from blushing so hard and even Iida looked embarrassed. If nothing else, Ochako was grateful she had shed her girlish crush on Deku over the summer or the whole thing would have been mortifying.
Apparently, that was the only action she was going to see though, because after her friends had left there had been a complete and utter absence of customers. To be fair, the stall was a little out of the way and the Miss UA competition had just started. That was probably why business was so slow, Ochako told herself as she checked her phone for what felt like the hundredth time.
Her reasoning became a little more difficult to rationalize, when any boy who passed the booth would immediately avoid eye contact like she was Aizawa looking to erase their quirk. At first it seemed like a coincidence. Maybe they were just shy. After the 6th or 7th person Ochako was starting to see a trend.
Maybe she just wasnât trying hard enough. She hadnât been particularly enthusiastic and maybe it was showing on her face and putting off customers. It wasnât like she wanted to do this, but she had agreed to do the job and it was her responsibility to see it through properly.
Putting on her best hero face, Ochako caught the eye of a passing student, smiling at him in a way she hoped was inviting. For a moment it seemed to work as the boy took a step in her direction with an unsure smile of his own.
Unfortunately for Ochako, just as she was sure she was about to make a sale with a decently cute boy the sound of a car backfiring in the distance cut through the noise of the festival. Apparently, the sound was enough to scare the boy as his spine went ramrod straight and he took off running like a startled deer.
With a disappointed sigh, Ochako slumped against the cool wood countertop of the booth.
This was getting a little embarrassing.
âOi Round-face, whatâs your problem?â
Ochako wasnât sure how long she stayed like that, but it must have been long enough because the sound of a nearby voice nearly made her jump out of her skin.
Bolting upright Ochako found herself face-to-face with a scowling Bakugo. Not that the scowling part was surprising. Ochako could count on one hand the amount of times she had seen her classmate with an expression that wasnât some level of displeased.
Despite all that, Ochako wasnât entirely sure what she had done lately to irritate him. She thought back for a moment but nothing specific came to mind.
âOh, um, hi Bakugo-kun,â said Ochako slowly. âCan I help you?â
âI asked what your problem was,â Bakugo repeated, ignoring Ochakoâs question. âYou look like someone ran over your dog or something.â
Sighing Ochako rested her elbow on the countertop and cradled her chin in her hand. Of all the people to catch her sulking it had to be Bakugo.
âItâs nothing.â Ochako said. Hopefully Bakugo would have the social grace to know she didnât want to talk about it and just leave her in peace.
âBullshit,â Bakugo grunted, folding his arms across his chest. âTell me that again when your face isnât all messed up.â
Nice, Ochako thought dully.
For a moment they stared at each other, silence stretching awkwardly between them as neither wanted to make the first move.
It was Ochako who gave up first, as Bakugoâs silent intense glare proved more effective then his explosive temper ever was.
Straightening up Ochako raised her arms above her head to work out some of the stray kinks. Training had been taking a lot out of her lately and to be honest she would rather be back at the dorms having a nice long soak rather than wasting her time here at this stupid booth, explaining herself to Bakugo of all people.
âIt really is nothing.â Said Ochako, shrugging apathetically. âIâŠjust havenât had many customers is all.â
That clearly was not the answer Bakugo was looking for because his face twisted like heâd just eaten something sour. Though with the way his face looked normally it was hard to tell.
âWhat? You want to kiss a bunch of extras or something?â
âNo!â
Ochako was aware that her voice was louder than it needed to be. Thankfully the general noise of the festival kept her little outburst from drawing any unwanted attention. This was not a conversation she wanted anyone else hearing. Heck this wasnât a conversation she wanted to be having.
âItâs not that I want to kiss a bunch of strangersâŠâ Ochako trailed off trying to figure out how best to phrase it. âI just feel like Iâm not pulling my weight. You should have seen how much money Momo-chan made. They had to get a second jar.â
It wasnât the most accurate explanation, but it was the closest approximation she could muster at the moment and, to be fair, it was mostly true. As much as she did not want to be the one kissing a bunch of sweaty high school boys on the cheek it was something, they all agreed to do. No one else wanted to do it either, except maybe Mina who seemed to thrive on the attention. Compared to Momoâs overflowing jar of earnings Ochakoâs piddly pile of yen seemed embarrassing in comparison.
âI mean I know Iâm not the prettiest girl in the class, but I didnât think I was that bad.â
Immediately Ochakoâs hands went to her mouth like she could force the words back in if she moved fast enough. But it was far too late and her words were already hanging heavily in the air.
Maybe if she activated her quirk on herself and floated into space Bakugo would forget it ever happened.
Sure, it was a thought Ochako had had more than once during the last hour but she sure as heck hadnât meant to say it aloud especially to Bakugo of all people.
It also wasnât untrue.
The rest of the girls in the class had all out earned her by a significant margin. Momo, Tsuyu, Mina, and Hagakure had all earned more than five times what she had. Even Jiro with her prickly temper had managed to surpass Ochako by an embarrassing amount.
Most of the time Ochako hated comparing herself to her classmates. Something she considered the worst part about Hero Rankings was how it pitted them against each other. Usually about pointless stuff like how thin or fashionable they were.
Still, looking at her classmates with their pretty hair and their lithe bodies, the way their hands werenât covered in scars and their shins werenât covered in bruises. It made her feel ugly and clumsy. Like a big old fake who never belonged at U.A. in the first place.
Now was not the time for melancholy however, Ochako realized, remembering suddenly that she was not wallowing in self-pity alone.
Glancing up at Bakugo, Ochako felt herself balk. The look on his face reminded her of a statue of Asura she had seen at a temple as a little girl. Face twisted into a furious scowl, she could practically see the smoke leaking out of his ears. Or maybe it was just his palms. That was always an option too.
Of all the people she could have said that to, it had to be Bakugo. Class 1-Aâs own King of Explodo-murder and Crown Prince of Arrogance.
âNever mind. I was just kidding,â said Ochako.
It was a lame attempt even to her own ears, but it was all she could think of at the moment.
Clearly even that was too little too late, as Bakugo leaned across the counter.
Even with his hands in his pockets and his slouched posture he seemed to tower over her. Maybe it was his larger than life attitude. Whatever it was, it took every inch of Ochakoâs stubborn lack of self-preservation to keep from shrinking back.
âLook here Cheeks,â Bakugo snarled. His stare was intense as ever, daring Ochako to look away first. âIâm going to say this once so you better fucking clean out your ears and pay attention. Got it?â
Well what do you even say to that? Ochako wondered, nodding dumbly.
âYouâre not ugly.â
Ochako stood silent for a moment, waiting for the rest. Apparently, Bakugo felt heâd said all there was to say because he leaned back on his heels looking somehow both grumpy and smug at the same time.
ThatâŠthat was it?
For a second, Ochako was struck dumb.
She wasnât sure what sheâd been expecting but clearly, she had been expecting something. Because whatever the heck Bakugo had just said to her was not it.
Slowly, taking in Bakugoâs smug/grumpy posture, it dawned on her. Maybe in some strange, blunt, Bakugo way this was his way of making her feel better? Maybe?
All things considered it was pretty terrible, but he was obviously trying his best. Maybe it wasnât the most eloquent extolling of her virtues but in spite of herself Ochako couldnât help but cheer up a little. If nothing else Bakugo was known for being brutally honest so if anyoneâs opinions on her ugliness or lack thereof could be trusted, it was probably his.
The whole thing was so surreal that Ochako could barely hold back a confused giggle. Now was not the time for that though. Later, when she was alone in her dorm and there was time for hysterics to set in would be a different story but right now, she needed to keep some semblance of composure.
âThank you Bakugo-kun.â Ochako smiled sincerely because honestly it was the thought that counts. âThatâs really nice of you to say.â
âDonât mention it.â Bakugo grunted, steadfastly refusing to make eye contact now that heâd said his piece. Unfortunately for him, it left Ochako with a perfect view of the tips of his ears turning a rather telling red. âSeriously though donât mention it to anyone or Iâll fucking kill you.â
It was such an obvious smokescreen to hide the fact he was being nice for once but Ochako chose not to call him on it.
âI will take it to my grave.â She promised with faux solemnity.
Normally even the slightest hint of mockery would have been enough to set Bakugo off on a tirade but Ochako must have caught him on a good day because all she got in return was a snort and a muttered idiot.
Sadly, like all good things, the moment had to come to an unfortunate end.
âWell, if it isnât a pair of losers from class 1-A.â
Ochako wasnât in the habit of making enemies. That was more the area of expertise of a certain classmate of hers. With that being said, Ochako had never been a fan of Monoma. While he had never really bothered her personally, she found his loud voice and contemptuous smirk to be more than a little obnoxious.
To be fair, Bakugo was just as arrogant at times, but he at least had the skill to back up his bluster. Monoma on the other hand was full of hot air.
Speaking of air, the air surrounding Bakugo seemed to crackle dangerously with every step Monoma took towards them.
âWhat the fuck do you want shit stain?â Bakugo snarled, proverbial hackles raised.
Hands raised in mock surrender, Monoma sauntered over to the pair, unaware or uncaring of Bakugoâs characteristic ire.
âI was just coming over to see how much money your class had raised.â Monoma said, the picture of fake innocence.
Ochako glanced at the nearby jar, sitting nearly empty and winced. Part of her wanted to shout that they had raised plenty of money. It was just Ochako that hadnât earned any, but it felt a little too pathetic to even say the words aloud.
âThat is pretty pitiful,â said Monoma, shaking his head in mock despair.
Ochako had to bite back another wince at his words. He wasnât wrong but he didnât have to say it.
âThough Iâm not really surprised. It is Class A after all,â continued Monoma. Reaching into his pocket he pulled out a single 500-yen coin. âWell, I suppose I should do my part. At this point itâs practically charity.â
There was a lot Ochako would do for money. Embarrassing things like living off nothing but cheap ramen and day-old bread so she could afford to go to U.A. if the first place.
As it turned out, one of the things Ochako would not do for money was kiss Monoma. Not for all the money in the world. To be honest she would rather kiss Mineta and that was saying something.
Regrettably, it wasnât like she had the luxury of turning anyone away at this point. Even if she werenât desperate for a sale, Ochako knew Monoma well enough to know how this all would end. If she turned him away, heâd just make a fuss and that was more of a hassle than she wanted to deal with at this point. As unpleasant as the thought was, it seemed like the only way out would be for Ochako to swallow her pride and kiss the jerk.
Ew.
Suddenly a hand slammed down on the counter startling both Ochako and Monoma.
âAre your eyes broken or are you too stupid to understand how lines work?â demanded Bakugo. Glaring at Monoma like heâd enjoy nothing better than just punching him straight in the face.
Frankly he had shown an uncharacteristic amount of self-control thus far and Ochako was a little impressed.
âWhat?â replied Monoma, too confused to be insulted.
âLine ass-wipe.â Bakugo gestured to himself then Monoma. âIâm next in line.â
It took Ochako a full minute to realize that when Bakugo had slammed his hand on the countertop he had left behind a rather astonishing pile of 1000 yen notes. After that it should have been pretty simple to connect the dots but Ochako had to admit it took her another minute to understand what Bakugo was saying.
Thankfully, it looked like Monoma was having a similar problem as he stood there gaping. Scrambling to regain his composure, Monoma crossed his arms with a smirk.
âAre you going to get on with it then?â he said, waving his hand disdainfully at Ochako. It was a little too tempting for Ochako who wanted nothing more than to reach out and snap his skinny wrist like a twig. âI bet you donât have the guts.â
Up till now Bakugo had shown significant restraint. Well, significant restraint for Bakugo. Ochako wasnât sure if it was a sign of growth or if he had been dosed with something but whatever it was Bakugo had reached his limit.
Stance wide and palms up, Bakugo let loose a string of moderately sized explosions.
âWho the fuck do you think you are ordering me around?â Bakugo roared, towers of smoke rising from his hands. It truly spoke to the kind of school they went to that everyone of a five-meter radius simply took one look at the source of the commotion and kept on going.
Bakugo, as per usual, was oblivious to the attention he was drawing, too consumed with his rage.
âYou think your gonna just stand there and watch, fucking pervert? Get the fuck out of here.â
If there was one thing to be said about Monoma he could rile people up like nobody else. Along with that however, he also seemed to know just how far to push to get a reaction before pulling back to keep himself from facing the consequences of his actions. It was practically a skill in and of itself really.
Shaking his head in dramatic dismay, Monoma turned on his heel and wandered off in search of someone else to bother. Though Ochako was able to take a little pleasure in the fact that his stride was just a little faster than necessary.
Eyes still a feral, Bakugo watched Monoma walk away until he finally disappeared from sight. It was a bit of a toss up for Ochako as to what was more of a relief. The fact that there hadnât been a brawl in the middle of the festival that got them all expelled or the fact she could continue her life without the knowledge her lips had touched Monoma in any way.
Whatever the reason there was definitely some appreciation in order.
âThanks, Bakugo-kun,â said Ochako.
It was possible Bakugo had forgotten she was even there because his head snapped around aggressively at her words. His expression was a confusing mixture of emotions as he tried to go from 0 to 100 back to 0 again. Or as close to zero as Bakugo ever got.
âI did not want to kiss him,â Ochako continued, sticking out her tongue theatrically.
Sure, it was a little over the top but since Bakugo had just come to her rescue the least she could do was give him an excuse to get himself back under control.
Ochakoâs gambit seemed to work as Bakugoâs shoulders came down and the tension left his body.
âI would fucking hope not,â said Bakugo with a sneer, though it was directed less at Ochako than at the situation as a whole.
The look was so full of disdain that Ochako couldnât help but giggle. Not one to be laughed at, Ochako half expected him to snap at her but instead, a silence stretched between them that was more than a little confusing.
âSoâŠ?â prompted Ochako, hoping the hanging question would elicit some type of explanation as to what Bakugo wanted of her.
âSo what?â Bakugo said, shoving his still smoldering palms into his pockets. âYouâve still got a job to do.â
Well that was both mystifying and a little cryptic, Ochako thought to herself as she stared at him blankly. It was only when Bakugoâs eyes darted down to the pile of money still sitting on the counter that realization dawned.
âYou were serious?â
It was a stupid question, but the words left Ochakoâs mouth before she could stop them.
âOf course, I was,â Bakugo snapped. âDo I look like a fucking clown to you? Walking around making stupid ass jokes or something?â
While Ochako had only been classmates with Bakugo for a little over a year, she liked to think she understood him about as well as anyone else in their class. Maybe not Deku or Kirishima, of course, but they were pretty exceptional exceptions. That being said, if Ochako didnât know better she would almost swear that Bakugo wasâŠembarrassed.
As soon as the thought entered her head, Ochako gave herself a mental shake. That was a weird line of thought and she was not going to pursue it any further. Today had been weird enough and she was not chasing that particular rabbit hole no matter how tempting.
Unfortunately, that still left Ochako with one temperamental classmate whose already short fuse was diminishing by the second.
âI justâŠI mean I thought you were just trying to scare Monoma-san off.â Ochako trailed off a little lamely.
Staring at her blankly Bakugo raised a single pale eyebrow. âIf I wanted to do that, I would have just punched him in his fuckoff face.â
Shifting uncomfortably, Bakugo's shoulders seemed to hunch even further into a posture that would have looked defensive on anyone else but he somehow managed to make menacing.
âLook, if youâre that much of a wimp then Iâll just take my money and go.â Scowling, Bakugo reached out to grab his money off the counter. âNever figured you for a coward though Cheeks.â
Distantly Ochako was aware that her jaw had dropped open at Bakugoâs challenge but more presently she was fighting the overwhelming urge to grab Bakugo by his stupid spiky hair and chuck him into space. Itâs a lot harder to be a jerk from orbit.
âWho said I wouldnât do it?â Ochako sputtered, slamming her hand down on top of the money before Bakugo could take it. Like hell she was backing down from such an obvious challenge. âI never said that so just give me a minute.â
Face so blank it bordered on boredom, Bakugo leaned against the booth.
âWell, what are you waiting for?â He grunted, pinning Ochako with an expectant stare.
This left Ochako in a bit of a predicament. Bakugo was intense at the best of times and with a five-foot radius. Having him this close, looking him in the eye, it was just too much for poor Ochako to handle.
Waving a hand in his general direction Ochako tried to hide her growing blush. No good making him think it was because of him or something.
âYour eyes are freaking me out okay? Can you just close them or something?â
This time it was Bakugoâs turn to give a long-suffering sigh but, surprisingly, he did what she asked.
Staring at Bakugoâs still too close face Ochako felt like she was having a mini-heart attack.
This was entirely different from when she had kissed Iida and Deku. With them it had been fun. Silly even. This felt way more serious. Like Bakugo was going to give her a report card at the end with a letter grade ranking her performance.
Now that she thought about it Ochako wouldnât put it past him.
Alongside the looming possibility that Bakugo was secretly judging her kissing skills, Ochako was forced to come to another uncomfortable realization.
Studying his face up close Ochako had no choice but to confront the fact that while Bakugo had the personality of a wet cat, he wasnât horrible to look at. It was hard to tell most of the time since his face was twisted up in a perpetual scowl but seeing him all calm and not screaming in anyoneâs face Ochako was shocked to find he was kind of a pretty boy. Not that she would ever say that to him.
She liked her eyebrows where they were thank you very much.
This uncomfortable epiphany must have done some damage to Ochakoâs brain because staring at Bakugoâs vulnerable face gave Ochako a renegade thought.
For the festival Ochako was only obligated to give patrons a kiss on the cheek. That had been a condition the girls in the class had insisted upon and most of the boys had agreed though there had been a few vocal dissenters. They were of course dealt with quickly and without mercy.
That being said, staring into Bakugoâs stupid grumpy face Ochako couldnât help but wonder what he would do in she kissed him right on his stupid lips.
Oh, that would serve him right wouldnât it?
Sure, it might mean losing her first kiss to Bakugo of all people, but it would be worth it just to see the shocked look on his face.
That would teach him for calling her a coward.
Mind fully made up, Ochako leaned in to do the deed. As she got closer though an unexpected wave of butterflies exploded inside her stomach like Bakugo had set off a Butterfly Howitzer.
For someone so strict about personal boundaries as Bakugo, Ochako couldnât remember ever being this close to his face before. So close, in fact, she could count his nearly invisible blonde eyelashes and much to her surprise she could see a handful of tiny scars littering his cheek bones. Collateral damage from his quirk she realized.
Just as she was about to press her lips to his though a tiny alarm went off in Ochakoâs head.
Abort! Abort!
It was as though her brain had finally caught up with what she was doing and was trying desperately to stop her before she made a truly embarrassing mistake.
What was she even thinking? She couldnât kiss Bakugo. Not after heâd just saved her from Monoma.
They might not be friends per say but acquaintances didnât kiss acquaintances on the lips without their permission. That was something villains did. All Might would be ashamed of her if she did that.
Swerving sharply at the last minute, Ochako pressed a quick kiss to Bakugoâs cheek. Okay maybe it caught the very corner of his lips but that didnât count becauseâŠreasons.
It didnât count. It didnât count. It totally didnât count. Ochako chanted to herself mentally as she pulled away.
Another distant part of her brain was busy wondering how Bakugoâs skin was so soft and whether the nice boy smell he had was specific to him or did all boys smell like that? Ochako quickly shoved whatever fried thought process that was to the very back of her brain because she was not dealing with that now.
Right now she had a metaphorical and sometimes literal time-bomb to deal with and there was simply no time to contemplate boy-smell.
Thankfully it seemed that Bakugo didnât notice her mental breakdown as he pulled back, an complicated expression on his face.
âI told you I wasnât a coward,â said Ochako trying to cover up the wild pounding of her heart and the fact that her face probably looked like a sunburned tomato.
For a second it looked like Bakugo was going to say something. His mouth hung open before stretching into what could charitably be called a smile. It was definitely more on the side of a smirk but Ochako counted it as a win nonetheless.
âI guess not.â
Internally Ochako heaved a sigh of relief. It seemed that Bakugo hadnât noticed her near slip. Oh man, how had she almost made such an awful mistake? How would she ever be able to look Bakugo in the eye again if she had actually kissed him?
The thought alone was so embarrassing that Ochako had to find something to do with her hands lest she start pulling at her own hair. Trying to find something to do that didnât involve looking at Bakugo, she quickly began to tidy up the stall.
It wasnât like there was much to take care of but the pile of money was still sitting ever so innocently on the counter. Making a grab for it Ochako began to tidy the bills before moving to place them in the jar.
âWhat do you think youâre doing?â
Ochako jumped, nearly knocking over the jar. To be honest sheâd expected Bakugo to make a break for it at the first opportunity. She hadnât really been expecting him to hang around. Yet he continued to surprise her.
âIâm getting ready to switch off,â replied Ochako casually. Trying to play it off like she hadnât just jumped a foot in the air but fooling no one. âMy shift is almost done.â
Bakugo scoffed, gesturing to the fist full of bills in Ochakoâs hand. âYou think that little peck is worth all that? That doesnât seem like a fair trade to meâ
Glancing down at his phone for a second, Bakugo met Ochakoâs baffled stare.
âYouâve got 10 minutes left before the next girl takes over?â
Ochako could do little but nod. Where the heck he was going with this was a question she wasnât sure she wanted an answer to.
âBetter make it count then.â Bakugoâs gaze shifted slightly, taking on a considerable amount of challenge with a hint of smug satisfaction. âIf you can.â
Okay first of all, how dare he? Ochako thought furiously as she stared in open mouthed shock at the audacity of the boy in front of her. Her second thought, although practically unconscious since she was already on the move, was how much she wanted to make this boy regret his entire damn life up to this point.
Hand braced on the counter-top Ochako leaned forward and grabbed Bakugo by the collar of the shirt. His smug, smirking face chasing any rational thoughts from her head and overriding any alarm bells that might have been going off.
Oh, sheâd make it count all right. One of them was going to regret this and it sure wasnât going to be her.
Happy secret Santa @littlemissfundip ! <3 Hope you have amazing holidays!
This is my drawing for you. I really hope you like it. I had a lot of fun drawing your beautiful Eris. <3Â Â
Summery: The Solstice season isnât turning out to be everything itâs cracked up to be. Not for Tallie at least. If only there was someone who could bring a little cheer.
Note: A Secret Santa for the venerable TakenVoid. Thanks for letting me play with your girl.
There were times that Tallie actually missed Orzammar, though those moments were few and far between. It wasnât that she missed her life per say, but sometimes the surface lands seemed overwhelmingly large and cavernous and quiet. Like the whole world was moments away from letting her drift into the sky.Â
It was moments like that she missed the familiar sounds of Dust Town, the constant sounds of dwarf life that let her know she was still living. In the darkness of the night, when the shadows were long and her bed was empty, Tallie felt the slightest twinge of nostalgia.
 This was not one of those moments.
 Crammed into the most deserted table in the tavern, Tallie sat. Silently stewing over her drink she looked out across the crowded room.Â
 All around her the sounds of merriment rang out. The booming of voices, ringing of bells, and off-key singing blended together in a cacophony of noise that rivaled any battle she had been in. The Archdemon included.
 Even after all this time, it was still a little overwhelming to say the least. Solstice celebrations seemed so strange. There was never anything like this in Orzammar...at least not for the casteless. The noise alone would risk bringin the roof down on oneâs head.
 Stones curse it, Tallie wasnât entirely sure how the Tavern was still standing.
 The noise, the colours, the endless frivolity, it all seemed too much. Too much life all crammed together in one place. Though Tallie occasionally resented the quiet, she had come to appreciate the space that the surface world provided.
 In a place like this, even surrounded by so many people, Tallie felt very much alone.
 As if sensing her thoughts, Tallieâs wandering gaze met another. Across the tavern another surface dwarf caught her eye. Raising a single bushy brow, he tipped his pint in her direction. A clearer invitation Tallie had never seen, but it also wasnât one she was particularly interested in.Â
 Sharpening her gaze, Tallie met his eyes squarely. There wasnât even a hint of a smile so he wouldn't mistake her dismissal as some coy invitation.
 Clearly her message got across. The dwarf shrugged his shoulders amicably and turned his attention to more receptive pastures. There were certainly enough patrons and barmaids who seemed willing enough.
 Hunching her shoulders, Tallie eyes the last of her drink contemplatively. It seemed like the right time to head out. It was late enough that the tavern was starting to get rowdy. Even alone, her room was starting to seem like a better alternative.
 Just as she was about to toss a few coppers on the table and go, the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. She could sense someone behind her, so close she could almost feel their heat on her back.
 Moving slowly, subtly, she reached for one of the many knives on her belt. For a split-second old instincts warred with common sense and Tallie had to fight the urge to slip her knife between the strangerâs ribs.
 Instead, she flipped her knife smoothly, thrusting the pommel into her would-be attackerâs ribs. The strike, sudden and unexpected, caught them just below the solar plexus.
 With a choked grunt the figure went down, clutching their stomach. It was only then, as their hood fell away, that Tallie recognized the familiar face.
 âAlistair?â she gasped.
 Hopping off her bench, Tallie hurried him to his feet. Tugging his hood back into place she glanced around to see if anyone had noticed. Thankfully there was a far more enthusiastic brawl taking place by the bar which served as a suitable distraction.
 After helping Alistair onto the other bench, Tallie settled back into her seat.
 âAlista...I mean Your Majesty,â said Tallie, âwhat are you doing here?â
 It was meant to be a show of respect. Tallie had seen it too many times. A dwarf ascends to a noble house and suddenly get all up on themselves. Alistair didnât seem like the sort but it was better to be safe than sorry.
 Though the look that passed over Alistairâs face made her immediately regret her words.
 âPlease...donât,â said Alistair slowly, awkwardly rubbing his hands. âThat title is...Itâs too much. Hearing it from other people is strange but from youâŠâ
 Alistair trailed off. His strained smile seemed to flit between hopeful and anxious. To be honest it was a bit of a relief to see how little he had changed in spite of it all.
 âAlright then Alistair,â Tallie paused, taking a long sip of her drink to hide her smile, âwhat are you doing here?â
 Sensing the change in tone Alistair adopted a faux innocent expression.
 âFunny story actually. I just happened to be riding past, entirely by coincidence mind you, when I felt the overwhelming urge to drink bad ale and listen to poorly sung tavern songs. It must have been fate.â
 âFate huh?â replied Tallie dryly. âSo it wasnât a certain ex-chantry sister who likes to stick her nose into other peopleâs business?â
 Face innocent as a school-boy, Alistair shook his head.Â
 âAbsolutely not.â
 âSince I am here though,â he continued leaning onto the table in a move he had clearly stolen from Zevran, âitâs only fitting that I give you your present.â
 Reaching into his rucksack, Alistair pulled out a long thin box. It was plainly wrapped, brown paper and twine, but judging by the lopsided edges and the wrinkled corner it was a job Alistair had completed himself. Placing it on the table, he gently pushed it towards Tallie.
 âI know itâs a little early but I wasnât sure when we would see each other next.â Tilting his head to the side Alistair cast a sheepish smile in Tallieâs direction.Â
 Seeing him there, so close, after being apart for so long. Tallie had to reach out for the package, if only to keep from reaching across the table and laying a hand on his scruffy cheek. Alistair would never grow the kind of facial hair that would make him the envy of Orzammar but his scruff was endearing in itâs own way.
 âYou're not going to shake it?â Alistair asked.
 It was such an odd question Tallie could do little more than stare.
 âWhy would I do that?â she asked slowly. Maybe it was some kind of human tradition but it sounded very strange all the same.
 âTo try to figure out what it is by the sound. Like this.â Alistair raised his hands and shook them by his head.
 Once again, Tallie stared. Seeing her blank expression Alistair froze, his face flushing.
 âNever mind itâs a human thing I guess. Just hurry up and open it.â
 Now, Tallie would have liked nothing more than to tear into the wrapping paper like a savage darkspawn but she managed to hold herself in check. It was worth the wait just to watch Alistair fidget as she slowly pulled the cord loose and gently unwrapped the paper. She even folded it before setting it aside.Â
 By the time she had finished, Alistair was practically shaking in his seat.
 Like the wrapping the box was plain. As she lifted the lid though, Tallie was struck dumb. Laying atop a bed of shredded linen was a single rose.
 It was beautiful. Like nothing Tallie had ever seen before. Lifting it from itâs nest, Tallie examined the flower in the tavernâs low light.Â
 It was heavy. Heavier than sheâd expected.Â
 Made entirely of metal from stem to petal, it seemed to glow in the firelight. The beautiful gold caught the light as she turned it, examining the intricate details. It looked almost lifelike, down to the veins on the leaves.
 âFine dwarven crafts direct from Orzammar,â Alistair joked half-heartedly. At Tallieâs silence his anxiety seemed to grow. âI hope you like it. Itâs supposed to symbolize our um courtship and romance...I think. Makerâs breath, it seemed like a good idea before. Should I have gotten you a necklace or a knife orâŠâ
 If she let him he likely would have gone on all night.
 âAlistair.â Tallie interrupted, her voice firm but kind. Immediately, Alistair fell silent. âI love it.â
 âWellâŠâ After sending himself into a tizzy, Alistair seemed a little lost as to how to proceed. âGood. Thatâs good.â
 âIt is.â Tallie agreed solemnly, trying her hardest to hold back her laughter. The man could be so earnest sometimes.
 âItâs so nice in fact,â Tallie continued reaching into one of the pockets of her coat. âIâm a little embarrassed of my present for you.â
 The box wasnât particularly large and Tallie hadnât even had the chance to wrap it. Sheâd planned to do it before sending it along by courier but now seemed as good a moment as any.
 âYou got me a present?â said Alistair, his whole face lighting up.
 Tallie shrugged.
 âWell, I figured if I was going to be a surface dwarf I might as well follow surface traditions.â
 Alistair only appeared to be half-listening as he stared intently at the box in Tallieâs hands. Rolling her eyes, she slid the box across the table.Â
 Almost immediately it was in Alistairâs hands. Raising the box to his ear he gave it a gentle shake. By the stones, humans were strange sometimes.
 Setting it back on the table, Alistair pulled off the lid with unnecessary flourish only to stop short. With almost reverent hands he pulled the small stone figure from the box. Like Alistairâs rose it was beautifully detailed but instead of metal it was made of solid black stone.
 It had taken much deliberation before Tallie was able to settle on a present. After all, it was no easy task to find a gift for a king, but she had been confident enough with her choice at the time. Now, on the other hand, she wasnât so sure.
 The statuette was small, slightly longer than a manâs hand from palm to fingertips. It was not the size that mattered though.Â
 While Tallie had only the vaguest memories of Duncan from her brief time before his passing, she had been lucky enough on her travels to stumble across a portrait of the man in one of the rare books on Grey Wardens. From there it was simple enough to commission the piece.
 Seeing it in Alistairâs hands though, she was beginning to have her doubts.
 Seconds passed in silence, feeling like years. Maybe this was a bad idea after all. She had hoped it would serve as a reminder of his mentor/father figure but perhaps it only brought back sad memories.
 Just as Tallie was about to speak, though what she would say was still a mystery, Alistairâs hand darted across the table to clasp her own. His eyes were damp as he stared at her.
 âMarry me.â
 The words were barely a whisper, but they made Tallieâs heart trip in her chest. It wasnât as though they had never spoken of this. That had been before though. Before the Landsmeet. Before Alistair became king.
 Things were different now. They both had responsibilities. She had her mission and he had his duty, and as much as she wanted it this wasnât something she could promise. Not now.
 âAlistairâŠâÂ
 Alistairâs grip tightened.
 âI know.â He whispered running his thumb across her worn knuckles. âYou have to find a cure for the Taint and I have to rule Ferelden. Makerâs breath, it still feels strange saying that. I understand. I do ....â
 Drawing a ragged breath, Alistair tugged Tallieâs hand towards him. Gently he pressed a chaste kiss to her fingers before letting them rest against his forehead.Â
 âItâs just...I miss you. I miss you every day when we are apart.â Releasing her hand Alistair met her eyes once more. Sincerity shining from his face like a flame. âThere are days I want to toss that stupid crown in a river, steal a horse, and just run off to find you.â
 A lump had formed in Tallieâs throat that was far more stubborn than she cared to admit. She understood his feelings all too well. It was why she had kept from seeing him for so long. All it took was a few words, a sweet smile, and she was completely undone. All her resolve ground to a fine ash.
 Still, she could admit this if nothing else. It wasnât enough. It would never be enough. But it would have to do.
 âI miss you too.â Tallie whispered. Mirroring Alistairâs own action she clasped his hand. Raising it to her lips she gently brushed his knuckles.
 There was so much more Tallie wanted to say.
 âYou are going to find a cure.â said Alistair.
 That was one of the things Tallie loved most about him.
 When he spoke, he did so with the utmost conviction. Like his words were the most obvious of facts. The sky was blue. The grass was green. Tallie would find a cure for the Taint.
 âI know you will, because there is nothing you canât do.â Alistair continued. âAnd when that day comes you are going to come back to Ferelden, probably riding a dragon or something equally ridiculous, and I am going to marry you.â
 Tallie wanted nothing more than to accept his words, to live in his dream a little longer, but she had lived too long and seen too much. Clearly someone needed to be the voice of reason.
 âI donât think your court would care for a dwarven queen.â Tallie pointed out, though it hurt to do so. âThey will probably want you to marry some pretty noble girl who will bear you a castle full of noble babies.â
 âThe court can go hang for all I care.â replied Alistair firmly. âI love you and they can learn to live with it or Iâll sell the whole country to the Orlesians. See how they like that.â
 It was impractical. It was impossible. But in this moment, Tallie needed to hear those words. Shameful as it was, they were exactly what she needed to hear. Just a statement of facts. Pur and simple.
 âSuch decisive action.â Tallie managed to quip, despite the way her chest felt like Alistair had reached in and gave her heart a squeeze. âHow very kingly.â
 Sensing the change in the mood, Alistair seemed to relax ever so slightly.
 âI know right?â he joked back. âIâve been practicing.âÂ
 With the tension gone and the moment passed, now seemed like a good time to find a more private place. Suddenly, the prospect of going back to her room at the Inn no longer seemed so abhorrent.Â
 Tossing a few silvers on the table, Tallie grabbed Alistairâs hand. Firmly she tugged him towards the exit. Catching on to her destination, a shy smile spread across Alistairâs face.
 Just as she was about to reach for the door handle though, Tallie found herself tugged backwards into a tight embrace.Â
 Face-to-face, Alistair leaned down to whisper softly in her ear. Barely audible over the general noise.
 âI mean it. Every word.â
 And in that moment, Tallie allowed herself to believe it too.Â
 Stretching up, she pressed a soft kiss to his lips. Savouring the moment for what it was. Enjoying kissing him simply because she could.
 âWell,â Tallie whispered as she pulled back, âwho am I to argue with a king?â
 âWho indeed?â replied Alistair, sneaking in to steal another kiss.
I was tagged by amazing @bogatyris so long ago that she probably doesnât remember. Since I have like 3 ocs I borrowed some of my friends. Call me out if I sorted them wrong hehe
Rhian belongs to @sharp-sparks, Keela and Fenera @jessicapendragon, Luther @elidoo, Scarlet @lafaiette and Eris @littlemissfundip :3
Summery: Warning. This story may contain one (1) Trevelyan family reunion and one (1) very drunk Dorian. That should end well right?
Note: I started this story almost a year ago for @latefortevinterâ good to see my track record for completing WIPs is up to healthy well rounded 1.
How is it possible for one family to have so many people, wondered Dorian, more than a little hysterically if he were being completely honest.
Before him the crowd â more like a mob â of exuberant partygoers seemed to stretch out for miles. Which would be impossible given the limited space, but was starting to feel more plausible with every passing second.
Dorian had never been one for family reunions. Not his own and certainly not ones heâd been begged, bribed, and cajoled into attending, but in all his days he had never imagined a reunion to be likeâŠthis.
His own family reunions were dreary affairs. Opportunities for various members to brag at each other and show off their wealth, spouses, or spawn. Voices were rarely raised and dinner was often conducted in cool, silence. Even now Dorian could remember having to kiss his auntâs powdery cheek before finally being allowed to return upstairs to his books, freeing him from his boredom.
Whatever he had been expecting in the Trevelyan Reunion, this was not it.
All around him tiny clusters of people gathered. Laughing, drinking, and eating as they chattered back and forth at speeds Dorian could barely keep up with. Tiny bodies dashed around legs, bumping and jostling with little care or regard for those around them. Every so often a shriek of amusement or a howl of laughter would reach above the general din, but otherwise it was a cacophony of noise.
It was as terrifying as it was fascinating seeing so many people clusters so familiarly together, but it did leave Dorian feeling a littleâŠisolated.
After all he knew so few of them and they all seemed to know each other very well.
Eris, one of the few Trevelyan cousins that Dorian actually knew, had already come and gone. Smirking at the sight of him pressed up against the wall, she had wandered back into the crowd with a casual ease that Dorian canât help but envy, leaving him to scan the crowds for a familiar face he knew as well as his own.
More than once Dorian had been sure heâd caught sight of Vax. Every time he dared to venture close though, it turned out to be someone he didnât recognize.
The Trevelyanâs were an attractive family, good stock all-around, but it made picking a single person out of the crowd frustratingly difficult. Especially when so many of them seemed to share the same face.
It was by the six case of mistaken identity, Dorian finally stumbled across someone he knew. Would it not have been completely undignified heâd have weep at the relief of it.
âAh, Matthew,â Dorian had to practically holler to be heard over the noise but thankfully Vaxâs brother took notice. âI was wondering if youâd seenâŠâ
Almost immediately the manâs face, so similar to Vaxâs that it was almost eerie, became the very definition of exasperation.
âIâm not Matthew,â he said, rolling his eyes in a manner Dorian was only half-sure was in jest, âIâm Maxwell.â
Dorian was about to apologize. It wasnât the first time heâd made that mistake. Their names were very similar and they were twins after all. But his apology was cut short as another head popped around Matthew grinning cheerfully.
âShocking really that he could make such a mistake,â said Matthew, shaking his head in mock disappointment. âObviously, Iâm Matthew. Iâm the handsomer one after all.â
Frankly Dorian couldnât see a difference of any kind, but he decided to air on the side of caution anyways.
âEr⊠My apologies Maxwell.â
Then, all of a sudden, both men burst out laughing.
âOnly joking,â one of them managed to choke out between chuckles, though at this point Dorian was less sure than ever which one it was, âI am Matthew.â
The look on Dorianâs face, it seemed, was highly amusing because the men took one look at him, then at each other, and began to laugh all the harder.
All around him, Dorian could hear barely concealed snickers, though every time he dared to look everyone seemed pointedly engaged in their own conversations.
Seeing that Matthew and Maxwell were indisposed, Dorian decided it was an excellent time to find himself a drink. Preferably a strong one. One laced with nightshade if at all possible.
Thankfully the bar was not difficult to find.
It was a good thing that the Trevelyanâs were generous with their spirits because Dorian wasnât sure how he was going to make it through the night otherwise.
Accepting his first drink Dorian tossed it back easily. The liquid was foul. Nothing like the refined palettes of Tevinter. Thick and gritty, it burned all the way down his throat to pool in his belly. It was not unlike swallowing live coals.
Immediately Dorian gestured for another. The second went down as easily as the first and he gestured for a third though the bartender had begun to eye him nervously.
It was best not to get cut off so early in the evening, so Dorian chose to sip his third drink instead of tossing it back. No matter how much he wanted to.
Nursing his glass, Dorian leaned against the bar with a sigh.
Could he not have picked a man to marry whose family wasnât completely mad? Oh well, as long as he didnât make a complete arse of himself it would all be over soon.
...
â⊠And then the woman has the nerve to tell me that her nug is a prize-winning creature worth hundreds of gold. Prize-winning? That ratty old creature? Ridiculous donât you think?â
Vax clenched his teeth tightly to hold back a particularly persistent yawn. Partially because it was considered rude to yawn in oneâs great grandmotherâs face, but mostly because he did not want to be smacked in the head with a fan for it. Madame Trevelyan might have been older than the Maker himself but she had a mean arm when she put her mind to it. Which she did more often than not.
Instead, Vax fixed what he hoped was an interested smile on his face.
âYes grandmother,â he agreed pleasantly, even as he scanned the crowd for a possible escape, âvery ridiculous.â
Madame Trevelyanâs fan closed with enough force that the snap could be heard even over the noise of the party. It was more than enough to make Vax flinch and flush guiltily.
âWho is talking about butterflies?â She grumbled, rubbing her gnarled fingers over the edge of her fan like she was considering smacking him with it just for good measure. âTry to keep up with the conversation.â
There was no one in the world Vax respected more than his great-grandmother, matron of the Trevelyan family who ruled with an iron fist, but by the Maker she was enough to drive a man mad. Sharp as a tack even at her advanced age but her hearing, oh her hearing, had left port long ago.
Not that anyone could dare suggest she see a healer about it. Oh no, there was absolutely nothing wrong with her hearing. Young people today simply didnât listen. That was the problem.
At first heâd only come to pay his respects but somehow heâd been dragged into an endless spiral of a conversation from which he could not seem to escape. It had been hours but no matter how hard he tried he could not manage to extricate himself from the conversation. Politely or otherwise.
Even now, with half an ear on the present topic, all he could think about was Dorian.
Where had he gone? Who was he talking to? How much groveling was Vax going to have to do to apologize for his family?
With each passing second Vax could he feel his anxiety grow. His palms were practically drenched. The only thing keeping him from wiping them on his pants was the knowledge that it would probably mark the fancy fabric that Dorian had forced him into.
Vax was about a heartbeat away from either faking stomach distress, or his own death, when he heard a cheer arise from the crowd.
Well, that was never a good thing.
A veritable mob of bodies seemed to be gathering around a nearby table, jostling and cheering. Craning his neck Vax tried to get a better look. It was likely either a fight or some completely inappropriate display of affection but with any luck it would be enough to serve as a sufficient distraction.
It was only when he caught sight of a familiar face did Vax begin to wish it was something as innocent as a multi-generational brawl.
Jaw practically on the floor Vax could do little but watch the love of his life sway unsteadily atop one of the tables.
Not that he was alone by any means. Joined by two of Vaxâs second cousins and his great aunt, Dorian cheerfully belted out another verse of a rather bawdy folk song that Vax soon realized was about a mage and hisâŠstaff.
Panic overtook him almost immediately.
Why was Dorian on the table and why by Andrasteâs right tit was he singing?
Is he drunk? Vax wondered slightly hysterically as he watched Dorian nearly topple off the table, saved only by the many helpful hands of his audience.
Actually, the drunken part sort of explained the other two and despite the circumstances Vax couldnât help but feel immense relief at seeing Dorian whole and, relatively unharmed.
At least he looked happy enough and the crowd seemed to be enjoying the performance as much as he was, most of them torn between cheering and singing along.
Then, like a bolt of mage lightening, it hit him. If he could see Dorian then in all likelihood Madame Trevelyan could see him too. Glancing sharply away Vax tried to look as innocent as possible. Perhaps heâd get lucky and she wouldnât notice the ruckus.
The waiting was almost worse though and after a long moment Vax dared to sneak a peek only to find himself pinned beneath the force of his great-grandmotherâs sharp eyes.
So much for luck.
He could practically feel the weight of her gaze on his body and suddenly he was a child again, caught with his hand in the proverbial cookie jar.
âSo that is your husband.â
Despite its phrasing it was not a question and Vax could take nothing from her even tone that might even hint to her thoughts.
If this was all to go down in flames he might as well be honest.
âYes, thatâs my husband Dorianâ Vax replied cheerfully, refusing to be ashamed even for a moment. Not of himself nor of Dorian.
âHeâs from Tevinter. Â A mage.â Again it was not a question.
âWell heâs a magister actually,â said Vax immediately regretting it as a twist of the older womanâs mouth reminded him exactly how much she enjoyed being corrected. âBut yes heâs from Tevinter.â
There was a long pause that Vax wasnât quite sure he was supposed to break. Not that heâd even know how even if he had the opportunity. What did one say to their great-grandmother while watching oneâs husband dance on the table singing tavern songs?
Makerâs breath he missed Josephine at moments like this. She always knew how to smooth these things over.
âIâve always felt that mages from Tevinter were far too stuck up for their own good. Too full of themselves,â said Madame Trevelyan slowly. Her eyes slanted towards Vax and for a moment he was sure he could see amusement twinkling in them. âIâm glad you found yourself a good one.â
Vax let out a long breath he hadnât even realize he was holding until that very moment.
They would likely never speak of this again. Madame Trevelyan had a reputation to uphold after all and she would never admit to liking anyone but Vax was relieved that Dorian had managed to gain at least some of her approval. And with so little effort too.
A particularly large cheer went up from the crowd and suddenly Madame Trevelyanâs normal expression was back in place. Disinterested with a healthy dash of disdain.
âNow go retrieve your husband before he hurts himself,â she said sternly. âI always said that Tevinter spirits arenât nearly as strong as ours and clearly your man canât hold his liquor.â
It was a flimsy excuse if ever heâd heard one but Vax was grateful for it nonetheless. Leaning down he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. It was disconcerting how much smaller she seemed now than when he was a child. Sheâd always seemed a thousand feet tall with bones of steel. Like a dragon, fire breath and all.
With one last gentle squeeze, Vax planted a quick kiss on her cheek before hurrying off to retrieve his wayward husband.
As it turned out, muscling his way through the crowd proved to be a bit of a trial. His family, long into their cups and merriment, had gotten quite rowdy. With so many tipsy bodies he had to be careful not to push too hard lest some poor soul was sent tumbling.
It felt like an eternity before Vax was able to make it to the edge of the table where he was left gaping.
It was quite spectacular really. Somewhere along the way Dorian had lost about half of his outfit but luckily, due to the sheer number of layers heâd started out with, he was still surprisingly clothed.
Seemingly oblivious to his new audience, Dorian appeared to be preparing for yet another song. The contents of which would likely be as inappropriate and amusing as the last. Raising his mug, Dorian took a long swig, nearly tipping off the table with the force of it.
Thankfully, it was exactly the opening Vax needed.
In a flash Vax had his arms wrapped tightly around Dorianâs knees, tossing him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. It was a testament to how truly wrecked Dorian was as he accepted it easily enough; the alcohol turning him so loose limbed that he could do little to stop it.
âIâll just be taking my husband now,â Vax hollered cheerfully over the disappointed groans that chorused through the room.
âBut I donât want to go,â Dorianâs voice was muffled by the fabric of Vaxâs overcoat. âI want to sing more.â
âMaybe later,â replied Vax appeasingly, trying all the while to hide his laughter. âBut for now I think itâs time for bed.â
Sensing that the show was over the audience was happy enough to let them go, though not without comment. The dismayed groans were overtaken by laughter and heckling, with more than a few howls and wolf whistles scattered throughout.
As Vax made a break for the door, Dorian could do little but wave cheerfully at his adoring fans.
âI love you all,â he calls sloppily, just as the door slammed shut behind them.
The silence of the corridor was a sudden, but welcome change from the chaos. From over his shoulder Vax could hear Dorian humming quietly to himself as they headed back to their room. It was a seemingly random tune, one Vax didnât recognize.
âI love your family,â Dorian said suddenly, breaking the silence with none of his usual grace.
Vax couldnât help but chuckle at the seriousness of Dorianâs tone.
âAnd they love you,â Vax replied reassuringly. âNow go to sleep. Trust me youâre going to need it.â
Dorian seemed happy enough to comply because he immediately sagged bonelessly against Vaxâs back. For a moment Vax was sure that he was asleep.
âI love you, amatus,â whispered Dorian drowsily.
The words, though alcohol fuelled and barely audible, were enough to make the whole night worthwhile. Vax could feel his cheeks begin to ache as his smile widened.
âI love you too,â he whispered back, patting Dorianâs thigh. The only part of him he could safely reach.
Classy as ever Dorian gave what Vax could only assume to be a happy snore in response.
âŠ
The next morning the sun poured most cruelly through the window, leaving Dorian to wonder why he was half dead and if there was any way to finish the process. His head felt as though it had been filled with a combination of cotton and tiny shards of metal. Even the slightest movement was enough to send bolts of pain racing through his entire body.
All in all it was not the most pleasant way heâd woken up. Not the worst mind you, but definitely not the best.
Before Dorian could even dream of trying to ascertain his surroundings â at least he made it to bed, small mercies â a cool bottle pressed itself into his hands.
Without even pausing to check the contents, Dorian downed the entire thing. If it was poison at least it would put an end to his suffering. The nasty flavor almost made him wretch but the cooling tingle that followed was such a relief that his body went entirely limp.
âThat was a very good potion,â Dorian finally managed to mumble out with Herculean effort. âWherever did you get it?â
Fully dressed and smiling, Vax seemed to be suffering no ill effects of the night before and for a moment Dorian hated him a little for it. It was terribly unfair that his bear of a husband could handle his alcohol so well.
âWasnât me,â Vax replied, his smile far more amused than Dorian was comfortable with. âGran sent it up.â
Almost immediately Dorianâs entire body seized as he was assaulted with memories of the night before. Some parts were fuzzier than others but he could recall the general gist of it, up to and including the point where Vax dragged him back to their room like some wine soaked vagabond. To make matters worse though, Vaxâs grandmother had clearly witnessed the entire thing.
With a loud moan, Dorian grabbed hold of the closest object and tried to bury himself under it. While the pillow was no rock â though it was from the Free Marches so the similarities were uncanny â but it would have to do.
Perhaps if he was lucky he would be smothered to death and none of the Trevelyans would be able to mock his inelegant behaviour. It was in very poor taste to mock the dead after all.
Finally catching on to his husbandâs distress, Vax tried his best to pry the pillow out of Dorianâs white knuckled grip. After a few minutes of futile pulling he finally gave up.
âDorian, love,â Vax finally asked, equal part concerned and puzzled, âwhatâs wrong?â
Was it too much to ask to be left to die of embarrassment in peace?
âIf you must know,â Dorian snapped, if only to keep his voice from quivering, âI am more than a little upset over the fact that I humiliated myself wholly and completely. In front of your entire family no less, including youâre elderly grandmother. Now they will hate me and I will have to spend the rest of my days knowing they think you married a wine soaked fool.â
Of all the things Dorian expected from Vax â consolation perhaps or apologies â bone shaking laugher was not one of them. Oh he tried to hide it at first but it was a dismal effort that left Dorianâs cheeks hot with anger.
Peeking one eye out from his cocoon Dorian favored his soon-to-be-ex-husband with a withering glare.
âWell, Iâm pleased you find it amusing.â
Getting his laughter under control âat least mostly â Vax gently pried the pillows away. Dorian only allowed it because it would make it easier to set Vaxâs pants on fire if he started laughing again.
âMy family doesnât hate you.â Vax said in a way that he clearly thought was reassuring. Seeing the look on Dorianâs face though, he tried again. âNo seriously. Why would Gran send one of her private potion stash up for you if she hated you?â
While it wasnât the most logical argument, it was enough to cause Dorianâs shoulders to come down ever so slightly. Maybe he hadnât entirely ruined his chances with the Trevelyan matriarch after all. That still didnât account for the rest though.
âWhat about the rest of your family?â Dorian demanded, though most of the real anger had long left his voice. âThey couldnât all have found my little show last night so charming?â
For a moment it looked like Vax was about to burst out laughing once again. One look from Dorian put a quick stop to that.
âOut of all the ways you could have impressed my family getting drunk and dancing on a table was probably the best.â Tucking his chin into his chest, Vax tried his best to hide the cheeky little grin that made its way onto his face. âAnd most entertaining.â
âYou canât be serious,â Dorian replied flatly.
Smile widening Vax gestured towards the other side of the room. âOh but I am. Go check the table if you donât believe me.â
It was more effort than Dorian particularly wanted to extend but curiosity and a small glimmer of hope got the best of him. A quick check of the desk found a veritable pile of notes. Among them were invites to parties and salons, including one particular letter from Madame Trevelyan that was phrased like an invitation to tea but was most certainly an order.
Staring at the veritable mountain Dorian couldnât help but feel a little overwhelmed. He was used to people disliking him, prickly and proud and sarcastic, but it seemed like these people actually enjoyed his company and to be honest he wasnât entirely sure what to do with that.
âAnyways it doesnât matter if my family didnât like you,â Vax continued from the bed, waving a hand dismissively. âI love you and thatâs whatâs important.â
âBut what if I want them to like me?â asked Dorian distantly, still staring at the stationary as though he half expected it to transform into a pile of vitriol and insults.
âWell, clearly they do.â Vax replied cheerfully. âThough, fair warning, now that they consider you one of us theyâre not going to be on their best behaviour anymore.â
It was probably meant to be a threat but to Dorian it sounded more like a promise. The kind of acceptance heâd never sought but had managed to find in spite of himself.
It was all a bit much for so early in the morning.
âWell, I suppose weâd best get some more sleep then,â said Dorian. Climbing back into bed he pulled the blankets tight and pressed himself firmly against Vaxâs side. These stone monstrosities they called a castle were so drafty. âWe will need all the rest we can get to deal with any more familial affection.â
âAw,â Vax pouted jokingly, âare you sure you donât want to ingratiate yourself to my family some more?â
Peeling one eye open Dorian shot Vax his most unamused of glares.
âIt is not too late for you to sleep on the floor.â
Chuckling softly Vax slid a little further under the covers.
âDuly noted.â He whispered, wrapping an arm around Dorianâs waist. âLess talking, more sleeping.â
Humming softly in agreement Dorian let himself drift slowly off to sleep. Eventually they would have to go out to face Vaxâs family â though now it seemed they were his family too â but for now Dorian was content to have Vax all to himself. Family reunions were nice and all but there was something to be said for moderation. Â
Finally finished a fic (including editing). Is this a sign that I'm finally ready to get back into writing or simply a perfectly timed bout of procrastination to avoid the cosplay I'm supposed to be working on?
I guess we'll see if I still like it tomorrow đ
