God I'm thinking so hard about missed connections between the Hawkes and a Warden Amell especially like. Carver was at Ostagar. They could have had a whole ass conversation without either of them realizing they're second cousins.
The Warden goes to Lothering immediately after Ostagar. They could have run into Carver on the road as he was heading back home to find his family. They could have encountered PC Hawke/Bethany/Leandra somewhere in town.
Like. God imagine if your Amell was the spitting Image of Leandra's cousin when last she saw her and your eyes meet from across the square and she's just like "Revka?" And even if it's brief you get to have a family for the first time in probably over a decade.
"Um... Alistair.. the Maker put that rock there for a reason, and maybe that reason is the curse warnings inscribed around that wall, warning about some Spider Temple. And I REALLY think it should stay there. Untouched.."
Prompt #5: I just might kiss you
Fanfiction: Dragon Age Origins
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Characters: Evette Amell, Alistair Therin
Connected to Cold Hands, Warm Heart
Evette smiled shyly, keeping her head bowed and hands clasped serenely in her lap. “Can I help you?” she asked.
Alistair’s chest tightened as he knelt beside her, bowing his head before Andraste. She was so pretty in the candlelight, her voice as soft as snowfall and her hair tumbling down her back. “I...uh…” he stammered, feeling heat creep into his cheeks.
“Alistair?” she whispered, silver eyes glancing up at him before moving back to her hands, the picture of piety. “There was something you wanted?”
“I just…”
Mother Hannah caught them whispering, glaring right at the Grey Wardens while she read from the Chant. With a little giggle, Evette lowered her head further, letting her hair shield her from the woman’s hawkish gaze. Alistair almost wished he could hide behind her hair, too.
“You just what?” she whispered.
“How long will this last?” he asked. After spending the night battling the undead and the day planning with Teagan and Ser Perth, he was amazed that she could sit through the chantry service that Mother Hannah had suggested to thank Andraste for their salvation. He’d clattered in just moments ago and was already having trouble staying awake listening to the chantry mother’s flat voice.
“Shouldn’t be long now, why?”
“I wanted...I might…” Maker’s breath, he thought, grinding his teeth. “I wanted to make sure you make it back to camp,” he lied.
Another soft laugh from behind the curtain of her hair, accentuated by a slight chill radiating off her. Was she nervous? Upset at the thought of him escorting her back to camp? “Do you think there are still monsters out to get me?” she laughed. “Will something horrible happen?”
Well, I just might kiss you- would that be horrible? he wondered, wishing he had the courage to say it, but every time he thought about it, the words slid down his throat. “That’s what I’m here for,” he joked, “to make sure nothing happens to the Circle’s rising star.”
“I know where she's going.” When Alistair doesn’t look up, Leliana puts a hand on his forehead and pushes his head back to look up at her. “What is wrong with you?” she demands. "I just said I know where she's going!"
“She doesn’t want me to follow,” he says, jerking his head away and scowling.
“So you’re going to just sit here and drink all day? What a kingly thing to do, I’m so glad we went to all that trouble of stealing her phylactery when she went back to the Circle. Do you know I've been letting Zevran take all the credit for that?”
“What do you want me to do?” he snaps. “Follow after her like some lovesick puppy?”
Later that evening, Evette and Connor enter the stuffy main hall arm-in-arm for the grand ball Lady Montilyet had planned. “I can’t believe you pushed Blackwall off the platform!” Connor laughs.
“Well, the hero was supposed to win,” she says cooly, nodding to the visiting nobility as they pass. “Someone had to fix it after that disastrous duel.”
“Don’t you think freezing him in a puddle from the ankle down was a little extreme?” Connor chortles.
“I certainly did,” the man in question replies, approaching with a small bow.
Evette gives him a pretty smile. “I do apologize, Blackwall, but it is as I said, someone had to make sure the hero won.”
slight detour from sjm books... in the form of Bioware games, namely Dragon Age: Origins. it was an accident, i swear, but now I am obsessed with being romanced by a charmingly awkward yet witty ex-templar...
