#no edit meme

[thereluctantinquisitor]

Jaime + Rain, and/or Hanin + Heat? :)

Jaime + Rain! (I may or may not have borrowed Traesa for this >.>)

Cold. Wet. A dull ache, akin to a memory that lurked somewhere in the subconscious, causing subtle pain when it was least expected.

Jaime sighed gently, feeling his own lungs deflate as each droplet landed upon his upturned face. Eyes open, he stared at the sky. At the clouds that loomed and threatened. He was growing rather tired of that. Being threatened.

“What in the Creator’s bloody name are you doing?”

He didn’t jump. He barely heard the voice, but what little part of him registered it screamed at him to acknowledge. To turn, and meet its owner. To give her a smile as bright and beautiful as she was, and nothing less. That had been the promise he had made to himself the day he realised they were actually something. Something more than two people reaching out and finding no purchase. He had promised he would never offer her anything less than she deserved, and in his eyes, she deserved the world.

But he couldn’t give her that. 

As she walked towards him, her dark brows pulled as tight as her hood around her head, he realised he couldn’t even stop her from being rained on.

“Sorry.” he murmured softly, his eyes once again drifting away. Looking up. At nothing, in particular. The clouds made no shapes. They were just a blanket. One that looked richer and warmer than it really was. Jaime couldn’t help but feel like he was staring into a mirror, rather than the sky.

“Well if you’re sorry, you could at least try to show it.” Traesa reached his side, her words cutting to the untrained ear. But not cold. If anything, they bore upon them a question that she had left unspoken. Jaime knew what it was.

He reached across, his hand folding gingerly over the rounded end of his left arm, fingertips brushing the soaked fabric aimlessly. Tiredly. He was so tired.

“I know.” he replied plainly, wishing he could at least chuckle. Make light. But it all just felt too hard. Pointless. Maker, everything he’d ever done… had it really achieved anything? 

Jaime glanced across, his blue eyes coming to rest on the top of Traesa’s head. She barely made it to his chin. The perfect height to hold, and press his lips to her raven hair. To whisper I love you’s into as they lay side by side like petals lost between two soft sheets. He swallowed. He felt ridiculous, all of a sudden. One armed, his hair stuck flat to his head, his clothes soaked through. Finally, he looked as pathetic as he felt. The Inquisitor - failure of Thedas. The man who stopped one threat, and unknowingly bore another to the very thing he needed to tear the world to shreds. Jaime swallowed. His lungs felt dry.

“What do we do now?” He hated himself for asking. For placing that burden on her, of all people. For being the one everyone looked to, and having nothing to offer beyond self-loathing and a sense of impossible dread. The question came out almost like a whimper, and he clamped his jaw shut. Refused to speak again. Not like that.

Traesa was silent for a time, just standing quietly beside him. Like a sentinel - vigilant and stoic, as though she were made of the finest stone. Carved to perfection. Then, he felt a pressure on his arm. Her hand. It curved around his bicep, nestling in the crook of his elbow. It fit perfectly.

“We pull ourselves together, find Solas, and if he won’t back down, we will make him wish he had never woken up.” she declared slowly, each word calculated and menacing. If Solas could hear her, Jaime hoped he was afraid. He should be. Jaime’s half-arm moved; twitched towards Traesa, as though he still had a hand to lay over the top of hers. He grimaced and let it fall to his side. A gentle squeeze on his right arm. Low words, drifting from soft lips.

“Come on, let’s get back inside. You might want to catch your death out here, but you’re not getting away from me that easily.”

Exhaling sharply in surprise, Jaime let himself be guided back towards shelter. As he walked, his eyes once again fell on Traesa. 

A soft smile tugged the corners of his lips.

[thereluctantinquisitor]

For the prompt game, if you feel inclined, "uninvited" for the Dalish bros Hanin and Thalon? ;)

Quick prompt meme - no editing! (900 words)

Thalon Lavellan belongs to the lovely @ourinquisitorialness! I decided to go with something in the modern AU!

“Why am I here, Thalon?” Hanin shifted hisfeet awkwardly, hooking one finger beneath his collar to give it a sharp tugaway from this throat. Everywhere, people milled about, their thick accentsfilling the air with words heavy on the r’s and spoken from somewhere at theback of the throat. Gowns, tuxedos, thin moustaches and thin stemmed glasses.It was the last place on earth Hanin expected to find himself.

“Well, you said you wanted to see more of Paris.”Thalon pointed out matter-of-factly, although there was still a ghost of asmile on his lips as he made a sweeping gesture. “Here is more of Paris.”

“I meant more… places. Not events.” Haninretorted, moving to tuck his hands into the pockets of his pants before beingstilled by a pointed look from Thalon. Crinkling his nose, Hanin let his handsfall to his side reluctantly, and his friend gave him a reassuring pat on theshoulder.

“It will be fineHanin. You’ll see. Just be charming, and if you don’t understand exactly whatsomeone is saying, I can help.”

“Great. Sure.” Hanin’s voice was drier than thewine being served at the event, and he made a point to grab a glass from thenext passing waiter. He almost downed it in one go before remembering that thisfundraiser was important to Thalon. So, he settled for sipping, and followedThalon as they made their way to a private section of the gala. It waspartitioned off with a red rope, and a man in an expensive looking suit stoodat the entry, a book in front of him on a podium. He eyed Hanin and Thalon fromdown the bridge of his nose, and twitched it slightly as though he found themdistasteful.

Or perhaps it was just Hanin’s imagination.

“Name.” the man demanded. It was not a question.With effortless charm, Thalon stated his, and the man made a point to drag hisfinger down the entire list before coming to a stop and giving him a curt nod.He almost seemed disappointed. He looked like the kind of man who would relishturning people away.

“Name.” he demanded again, this time his dark eyeshoning in on Hanin. Hanin swallowed, and gave Thalon a quick look, beforestating his own name. The man did not even look at the list. His brow tightenedinto a frown, and those beady pupils did a quick sweep up and down Hanin’sform. Feeling decidedly uncomfortable by the scrutiny, Hanin folded his armsand frowned right back. It probably didn’t help much.

“Not on the list. Only guests with an invitation canenter this section of the venue.”

“You didn’t even look at the list.” Hanincommented icily, making a sharp gesture to the ledger. The other man gave him athin-lipped smirk.

“I know every name on the list. It simply makes peoplemore comfortable if I pretend to look. You are not invited, and you will notenter.”

“He is with me. A friend, you see. I did not want to goalone.” Thalon attempted a timely intervention, but the damage had beendone. The doorman waved a hand, as though fanning away a bad smell, and snappedthe ledger shut with a sharp thud.

“No name, no entry. We do not take kindly to uninvitedstrangers trying to undermine our stringent standards.”

Hanin scoffed. “Some charity event.” Glancing overat Thalon, he gestured towards the door. From within, he could hearsomething… music, perhaps? He wasn’t sure. Either way, he wasn’t going to lethis lack of invitation spoil Thalon’s evening. “Go on, then. I can keepmyself busy for a bit, if you want to take a look.”

Thalon seemed indecisive. Hanin supposed the man felt guiltyfor leaving him alone, but it was fine. He was used to it, although in far lessaustere company, usually.

“Go.” Hanin insisted in that no-nonsense tone hepicked up from his years in service. Thalon exhaled slowly, but there was aglimmer in his blue eyes. A burning curiosity to follow the sound that floatedform behind the slightly ajar door.

“Just for a moment.” Thalon agreed swiftly, andHanin chuckled and gave him a light push in the direction of the room. With aparting glance, Thalon disappeared, and Hanin let out a slow sigh, sparing onlya moment to strike the fear of God into the doorman before he turned and walkedaway. Finishing his glass and grabbing another, Hanin parked himself at theedge of the room, letting his eyes drift over an assortment of people dancing,or chatting, or laughing with the tell-tale hollowness of formality. Doing hisbest not to reveal that he was dying inside, he kept his back straight, andjust observed. He was good at waiting.

“It is quite the party, wouldn’t you agree?”

Blinking, Hanin turned sharply, surprised by a sudden voiceto his left. Glancing down, his green eyes met with a pair that was grey-blueand glittering with amusement. As though she knew he certainly would not agree. A vision in gold, herdark hair was drawn back off her face into an intricate braid, knotted at theback of her head. She watched him silently, politely waiting for his reply, herglossy lips curved into a smile.

Despite it all; despite wanting to throw himself out of oneof those perfectly clear windows and escape, Hanin forced himself to smile.With her standing before him, he was surprised when it wasn’t as hard as hethought it would be.

“Yes. It is.”