#stumbles oc

[hadiden-lavellan]

Prompt: Daylen/ Amarth “Oh my God! You love him/her.”

“Maker, Amarth, you’re in love with him,” Alistair said. The elf’s eyes widened as he grabbed his pillow and threw it at the other Warden.

“Maker, don’t say that Alistair!” Amarth said, bringing his knees to his chest and looking at the fire. They were in a comfy enough room in Bhelen’s palace. Actually, it was Amarth and Daylen’s room, but Wynne had Daylen to run some errands. It gave Amarth a minute to talk with Alistair alone. Which the elf kind of regretted since Alistair was saying such absurd things. Love. What in the Maker’s name was love? Besides dangerous.

“Amarth,” Alistair said, moving to sit in front of the elf on the bed. Amarth placed his chin on his knees and looked away, pouting. He was being a child. “Amarth, listen,” Alistair said, sighing. “You’ve told me what happened in the past, but you can’t honestly believe it’ll happen again, can you?”

The elf nodded.

“From the way you talked about him, what you did all those years, that doesn’t sound like a healthy relationship,” Alistair pointed out. “You caused yourself so much pain for another man who really didn’t return the feelings until… well, he really didn’t return it. Now you have a man that’s returning the feelings and you’re shutting him out.”

Amarth bit the inside of his cheek before saying, “I don’t want something to happen to him. I can’t be watching him all the time and it worries me. I didn’t want to make him a Warden, that damn Templar threatening to take him away pushed my decision. I didn’t want to bring him down here, down to the Deep Roads, but he didn’t want to have me go without him. But I… Alistair, I don’t know what to do.” There was a pause. “If I do… love him… what am I supposed to do?”

“Talk,” Alistair said plainly. “You talk with him, share your feelings like right now. That’s something you’ve never been good at.”

“What?”

“Sharing your feelings, Amarth. Your pretty shit at telling someone how you feel.” Alistair laughed. “Like with me, you wanted to tell me that you trusted me and all you said was ‘I hate you the least.’” Amarth huffed a laugh, remembering that moment. It was during Ostagar and Alistair and him had just defeated the Ogre. It was kind of funny at that time. It was funnier now.

Amarth didn’t say anything so Alistair added, “you just sat here for the past two hours talking about him. You gave me more knowledge about Daylen than I ever hoped to know. His favorite color, what animal he can turn into, how soft his bat ears are, why he has all those markings on his wrists, that weird tattoo thing on his arm, why the Templars wanted him. I didn’t need to know most of that. I’m just glad you didn’t share intimate details.” Alistair blushed. What a child. “But how you talked about him, how your eyes lite up and you were smiling. I’m pretty sure that’s what you call love.”

The elf didn’t say anything for a moment. Alistair might have been right, but what was he going to do?

There was a knock at the door. Alistair got up to open the door and both men were surprised to see Daylen. The mage just stood there a moment before coming into the room. Amarth wanted to shove Alistair out and to scoop up Daylen and hold him. Maker he was hopeless. However, Alistair did excuse himself and gave Amarth a look. The elf knew what he was trying to convey and sighed. Damn him.

It wasn’t long before Amarth was practically jumping off the bed and walking towards Daylen, cupping his face as he kissed him. Maybe it was love, maybe Amarth would tell Daylen as he kissed him, or maybe after the night he would profess his feelings for the other man. Right now, Amarth wanted him in bed so he could ravish him.

[hadiden-lavellan]

Fuck tumblr I had to redo this like eight times. But here's some fluffy goodness between tired, retired Wardens sharing their days in Antiva, avoiding the Breach. Shout out to @stumblingsbalderdash because it's Amarth and Daylen. Also, it has Amarth's gift to Daylen ;3

Enjoy!

___________________

Amarth’s bare feet padded across the stone flooring, making his way outside onto the balcony. The warm Antivan afternoon surrounded him, causing goosebumps to prickle his skin. The elf rubbed his arms, trying to rid himself of the bumps, but stood no chance. He had to wait until he warmed up with the warm afternoon of Antiva. A smile appeared on his face as he joined his human lover at the balcony railing. Daylen was leaning against it, looking as though he was studying the city below. Amarth knew he wasn't; he was probably warming himself with the sun, listening to the bustle of the people down below. The elf knew his lover couldn't see the people running a muck in the streets, but knew he liked listening to them. Amarth walked up beside him, first placing an arm against Daylen’s bare arm. Since journeying to Antiva, the two have had to update their attire. Amarth wears loose, silken shirts, sometimes even showing his bare arms. He also wears loose and low hanging pants. It was comfortable. Daylen wore similar clothes, sometimes stealing Amarth’s clothes since Amarth bought pieces that were bigger than his size. But one a few, rare occasions, Daylen wouldn't wear a shirt. And Maker be blessed, Amarth savored those days. When Daylen relaxed, Amarth stepped within Daylen’s personal space. The elf leaned against the human, smiling when he wrapped an arm around Amarth’s waist. “You're cold,” Daylen said, pointing out the obvious. Amarth just smiled and closed his eyes, focusing on Daylen’s warm and solid form. “Mmmn… I know,” Amarth said. The elf hummed as Daylen pressed his nose to his hair, placing a kiss on Amarth’s head. “I was inside. It's much colder indoors.”

There was a moment of silence. Amarth took that moment to open his eyes, looking into the distance. He knew Daylen couldn't see, didn't know, but if he looked hard enough, he could see the faint tint of what was happening in the south. Something was wrong, something big. It wasn't a Blight, Amarth would know if it was. Soon he would have to be leaving Antiva to chase a promise so that he wouldn't hear the Blight again, but that would be in a few more years. But whatever was happening in the south, whatever had destroyed the Conclave and threw the Chantry and mages into a war, it wasn't Amarth’s problem to fix. No, his time to fix things was ten years ago. He was retired, living his remaining years in paradise with his lover. After a few minutes passed, Amarth stood straight. Daylen’s hand fell, allowing Amarth space to move. The elf turned his body fully towards Daylen, who was half turned towards Amarth. The elf smiled and ran his knuckles over Daylen’s cheek before brushing hair behind the human’s ear. There was about a million things Amarth wanted to tell him in that moment: how beautiful he was, how lucky he was to have Daylen, how he couldn't imagine a life without him. He wanted to tell Daylen he was so happy to be alive with him, that they both were able to survive their trials and to come back together. He wanted to say he loved him. But it wasn't the right time yet. “Something on your mind, Amarth?” Daylen asked, leaning into Amarth’s gentle touch. Amarth smiled at the reaction. He was so sweet.

“I actually got you a gift,” Amarth said. “I know you won't be able to see it, but I can tell you what it looks like.” “What is it?” Daylen asked, now fully turned to Amarth. The elf dug into his pocket and pulled out a tired cloth. Slowly, he untied the string and opened the cloth in his palm, picking up the metal with his fingers. Amarth then took Daylen’s left hand, kissing his knuckles before he slipped a silver ban onto his ring finger. Daylen made a face, looking like he couldn't name something he was smelling. Amarth huffed out a laugh. “It's silver, clean and I can see my reflection in it. There's two stones; a green one and a purple one. I was told the green one was an emerald and the purple one was an amethyst. Around the ban is elvish.” Amarth paused a moment. “I had to ask for the translation, but it says arlath’ma, ara’len. It's supposed to mean I love you, my husband, but I'm not very good with elvish to know if it's right. It sounds right.” Amarth held Daylen’s ringed hand, watching his face. He watched as his features showed confusion then his cheeks turning red. The man blinked, looking down at his hand and then to where Amarth’s face was. Then again down at his hand. “Amarth?” Daylen asked. A simple hm? was all that Amarth gave; an acknowledgement. “Amarth, is this…” Daylen stuttered, trying to piece together his thoughts. Amarth hadn't seen him flustered since the first time the elf kissed the human. “Are you proposing?” Daylen finally managed. Amarth couldn't help his smile or the heat rising in his cheeks. “More like a promise,” Amarth said. “We’re already together, but I wanted a visible symbol of our commitment to each other. This is just my way of saying I'll be with you until the day the Maker takes me back to his side.” There was a pause. “It's a symbol of my love for you.”

Amarth felt like a lovesick teenager as he professed to Daylen. To be honest, he had been meaning to give the ring to the other for a month now but hadn't found the right moment. Now wasn't exactly how he imagined it, but it was better than never. And to see how surprised and flustered Daylen was, it was more than perfect now. The human was smiling before hugging Amarth, pulling away only to pull the elf into a kiss. Amarth kissed his lover in earnest, holding Daylen’s face in his hands gently. Amarth was straining on his tiptoes and had to break their kiss so that he didn't fall. He looked at Daylen, smiling. The human was smiling back at him. Amarth couldn't help the swelling, warm feeling in his chest. Finally, things were working out for him. No more pain, no more misery. He was no longer chained, bond to a lifestyle that drained him of who he was. He was free to be who he wanted, be with the man he wanted. He was himself. “I love you Daylen,” Amarth said, fully and honestly. He would scream it so the Maker could hear him if Daylen asked him to. He wasn't ashamed to say the words anymore, no longer afraid that those three words would hurt his lover. “And I love you, Amarth,” Daylen said. “Always."

[hadiden-lavellan]

I got time. I wrote. I borrowed Daylen Amell from @stumblingsbalderdash for my boy Amarth So here's something sAD

"I hate dwarven politics," Amarth said, stretching his arms over his head. A ways ahead, down the mountains, half of his party was set up. The rest of them, Alistair, Zevran, and Daylen, were leaving Orzammar after crowning Bhelen king. Honestly, Amarth hated them both. He just wanted the support of one of them for his troops. Unfortunately, after getting his troops, Amarth was forced out of the warmth of the dwarven city and meet back with the bitter cold of the Frostback Mountains. Maybe, if he was lucky, he could find his way into Daylen's tent and steal the human's warmth. Daylen wouldn't mind.

Their relationship had improved some. Okay, not just some, but quite a bit. Amarth was afraid to lose Daylen when they traveled down the deep roads, not sure if a darkspawn would drag him off or not. He practically held the human's hand. There was a draw, a pull, that Amarth felt towards him. After seeing him in the tower, half transformed and suffering like a dying dog, Amarth wanted to see him blossom into a healthy man again. He was getting better, much better after their first night when Amarth was freezing and wandered into his tent. The two of them stayed very close while in the deep roads, joined at the hip almost. Amarth was glad when Bhelen allowed them rooms after crowning him king. Amarth took it in a heartbeat and invited Daylen to join him in his room. The elf had gotten the chance to braid Daylen's hair, and he may have confessed to developing feelings for the human. It was hard, confessing. The last time he confessed, Tamlen died.

"This is why the Wardens aren't supposed to be involved with politics," Alistair said. Amarth sighed.

"Says the bastard prince that may take the throne," Amarth retorted. Zevran huffed a laugh and Alistair complained. Daylen said nothing, but Amarth didn't expect him to. He didn't say much unless Wynne or his two Warden friends were with the group. Other than that, he was quiet. Not that Amarth minded, he was quiet himself, but it was just odd. He liked when Daylen spoke to him in private. It was wonderful to hear his voice, to hear him gasping out his name. Okay, maybe his thoughts were getting ahead of him, but Amarth did like hearing Daylen's voice.

"Since we're finally out of there, I would like to set up camp and discuss our movements," Amarth said. "And I want to get a head count and check for injuries."

"And what about food?" Alistair asked. Zevran laughed.

"I do believe that our favorite mother mage will have supper prepared for us," Zevran said. Amarth nodded.

"She probably will."

Daylen didn't say anything. Amarth looked back at him to see him walking with his staff. He was only a few paces behind Amarth, keeping close to the group so he didn't get lost. Amarth wanted to smile, wanted to admire the man longer, but continued his role as Warden Commander.

Amarth sat up violently, cupping his hands over his ears. The elf gritted his teeth as screaming pierced through his eardrums and shook his brain. It was painful, pound, loud. It wasn't like when he felt darkspawn nearby. No, it was much worse. But Amarth had his eyes shut tight as he fought through the screaming.

And suddenly, it was gone. The screaming, the pounding, the pain. It was all gone. Amarth didn't notice that Daylen was sitting beside him, a confused expression covering his features. Amarth gave no time to consider it and crawled out of his tent. The night was calm aside from Alistair standing outside his tent. He had the same look, one that said he was in pain just moments ago.

"What was that?" Amarth asked.

"No idea- wait. Did you hear that?" Alistair asked, reaching for his sword. Amarth followed, fumbling to find one of his daggers. It took a minute, Amarth only finding one of his two knives, when a monstrous creature appeared and tried to claw at his face. He had almost no time to jump back and dodge the swipe. The creature managed to cut across the bridge of his nose, but that was it. Amarth made quick work of falling into a pattern of dodging and attacking. Without warning, the creature froze and Amarth managed to sneak a glance at Morrigan, staff in hand and frost gathering around the tip of the staff. This gave Amarth the chance to look around camp to see his party fighting these creatures. Even Daylen and his friends were awake now, fighting along side Amarth's companions.

Amarth was suddenly shoved to the ground, a sword at his throat. The elf kicked his attacker off and pointed his lone dagger, but his heart dropped once he got a full view of the creature. He was bald, his skin turned black from the Blight, and his eyes were harrowing yellow. But his ears were still pointed, his cheekbones still round and jaw strong, and his face was full of pain. Amarth's hand began to shake, his dagger slipping. The creature didn't move towards or away from Amarth, only holding eye contact. A lump formed in Amarth's throat as he choked out, "Tamlen?"

The blighted elf hissed and dropped his sword, running away from the camp. Amarth heard Zevran and Alistair call to him but ignored both. The elf ran after his sick friend, watching Tamlen fall to his knees and gripping the side of his head. As Amarth approached, the sick elf stood and turned around, slumping forward. He looked as though he was in pain, like daggers were constantly stabbing through his body. Amarth wanted to reach out and hold him.

"Get back.... don't want to hurt... you," Tamlen said. Amarth felt his lip quivering. No, he can't cry. Not now. Amarth took half a step closer.

"Tamlen, it's me. It's okay. You won't hurt me," Amarth said. He wanted to drop his dagger, but he instead held the blade tighter. "It's okay. I can help you-"

"No help!" Tamlen shouted, taking a step back and shrinking away. Amarth took a half step closer to him. "Can't help... too sick... always hear the singing.."

"Singing?" Amarth asked. "You hear the Blight?"

Tamlen nodded weakly. "Hear him calling. Wants to gather... underground... can't go." Tamlen covered his ears and screamed. He looked Amarth dead in the eyes before falling to his knees.

"Amarth... love.... you... please, please... kill me.. don't want to hurt you," Tamlen pleaded. Amarth's eyes widened, the stinging of tears forcing him to blink. Hot tears began to race down his cheeks as he stared at his friend, his brother, his love.

"I... Tamlen... I can't-" Amarth tried to say.

But Tamlen didn't listen. He reached out for Amarth's dagger, forcing the standing elf to press the tip to his chest. Amarth couldn't breathe as Tamlen said "I'm so sorry, Amarth," and fell onto the blade. Amarth's mind couldn't catch up, couldn't handle what he was seeing. Tamlen had forced himself onto his blade to end his own suffering, refusing to listen to him or give Amarth the chance to help him.

The tears didn't stop. Amarth's knees hit the ground, his whole body losing strength. He just killed Tamlen, for real this time, and there was nothing he could do to save him. There had to be a way to save him. He could have been a warden, right? Couldn't they get some darkspawn blood and whatever else was needed for the ritual to make Tamlen a warden? Why did he have to die? It wasn't fair.

Amarth made his body move, pulling the dagger free of his friend's body. The elf moved so that he could place Tamlen's head on his lap and continued to cry, staring down at his dead friend. Amarth closed his eyes slowly, needing to see Tamlen at peace more than anything else in the world. Tamlen deserved peace, deserved to be at rest, and now he finally had it. How long had he been suffering like this? How long had he heard the Calling? How long had he been in pain? Amarth didn't want to think about it because that would make the tears worse.

Amarth had no sense of time, had no idea how long he had been there holding Tamlen's body, but suddenly a warm weight was behind him, a hand on his shoulder. Amarth couldn't hear the words, couldn't focus on the face. In the morning, he wouldn't be able to recall who got him away from his dead friend. He went through the motions, being ushered into his tent again. All he knows is that his nose was patched up with healing magic and his shirt was changed and before he knew it he was on his left side again. He should have closed his eyes, should have tried to sleep, but he couldn't. He would see Tamlen's face.

Against his instincts, Amarth turned over, facing Daylen, and curled up to him, pressing his nose to Daylen's chest. Daylen might have tried to say something, but Amarth ignored it. He couldn't hear him. The elf's hands grasped at Daylen's shirt, clinging to him. The human's arms were around Amarth, holding him close. Amarth had no willpower to stop himself, none. He didn't try to stop the tears, the sobbing, the violent shaking as it finally hit him that Tamlen was really, truly, dead. The whole camp could hear him, Amarth was sure. They would know that it was him who was crying, screaming, sobbing. They wouldn't say anything in the morning, but he would know they know.

Amarth didn't really know how to deal with his feelings, just needed to be held honestly. He couldn't remember the last time he had someone comfort him after a tragic event. He wouldn't allow Tamlen to comfort him at the manor because then Tamlen would have to know all that had happened to him. He couldn't remember if he even sought anyone out to comfort him when he was with the Dalish. This might have been the first time that he forced himself to find comfort in another person, to be reassured he was going to be okay.

It took awhile before the tears stopped. Took even longer for his breathing to get back under control. Daylen was still holding Amarth as he relaxed some, gathering his baring. The elf didn't release Daylen, still needing his warm body against his. Daylen didn't let go of Amarth either. It felt so good to have his broad arms around him, bringing the elf to his warm strong chest. Minutes passed before Amarth spoke up.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, voice quiet and raw. His sobs had ruined his vocal cords for the night.

"Don't apologize," Daylen said. "I thought you were hurt. I asked Wynne why no one was saving you, but... she explained what happened. Alistair got you and brought you back here." There was a pause. "I'm sorry."

Amarth knew, or thought he knew, why Daylen was apologizing. He had lost someone close to him and it hurt. Daylen might have been apologizing for something else, but for now, that's all he could think of. Amarth sighed, trying to mold himself to Daylen's form.

"I'm okay." He wasn't okay. "I had figured he was dead since Duncan found me." He had hoped Tamlen was alive and with the Dalish this whole time. "I just have to move on." He has to learn to let go and focus on Daylen and him. "I'm okay." He was not okay.

Daylen didn't say anything, didn't try to press Amarth further. The elf felt the human's lips press to his head; a reassurance. A promise. Amarth didn't know what that promise was but knew that Daylen would stay. It was going to be okay.

[stumblingsbalderdash]

Dragon Age 2: The Legacy of Hawke 

Twin Arc:  

Aiolos Hawke: Purple Magey Hawke

Marian Hawke: Blue Templar Hawke