I am, it's good to be back!
Have a cheeky Nanders for your @dadrunkwriting tonight, my friend! With a side of established Sigrun/Velanna
Maker, but they made a pretty picture together, wresting in the dusty training ring. Anders wasn't the only one to have noticed, either; everyone from the scullery maids to Sigrun to even Justice were watching as Cousland and the Howe duked it out.
He did have to assume the Spirit had less... earthly reasons for his interest, though.
The two men separated, panting and grinning, wild-eyed, at each other. Anders made eye contact with Sigrun, cuddled up against Velanna across the ring from where he leaned against a post. The little elf, of course, scowled at him, but he'd learned not to take it personally by now. Sigrun was about the only person she didn't glower at.
His attention switched back to the sparring men, who appeared to now be taking a break for water and discussing tactics. He pushed himself fully upright and hopped the fence, triggering a wolf-whistle from Sigrun.
"Hey, Howe," he called, adding a little wave to catch the older man's attention. He'd been flirting with more intention recently, not just his usual, low-level constant, and Nathaniel had undoubtedly been reciprocating his attentions.
Nathaniel turned at his name, eyebrows raised in question. "Yes, mage? We were about to start again; did you need the Commander?"
Oh, Maker, he was hot. Stripped down to nothing but a pair of sinfully tight, dark leather breeches, skin shining with sweat, he looked good enough to eat. "Oh, no, just thought I'd come wish my favourite archer luck, " he replied, swaying his hips dramatically as he stepped closer.
Nathaniel's lips pursed, but his eyes glittered with amusement. "I am, in fact, the only archer among us Wardens, so that ranking hardly says much about our friendship, now, does it, healer?"
"Oh, but even with another, they'd be hard-pressed to win my favor, " he tossed back with a cheeky wink. "No, your place in my affections is sealed, Howe. Best resign yourself to it!"
Nathaniel rolled his eyes, but chuckled despite himself. "If you are not here to spar, step back, healer. You are a distraction." He gripped Anders' shoulder with one hand, and his waist with the other, spinning him in an easy motion and sending him back to the stands with a gentle shove.
Anders felt his cheeks flush at the manhandling, mind immediately dropping into the gutter, as he stumbled back over to the other Wardens. Sigrun beamed at him, laughing at his flustered expression, and she tugged him to sit between her and Justice.
"Creators, shem, but you are embarrassing. Either bed the man or move on," Velanna complained. "I am tired of watching you two."
"Some of us wish to be wooed, and I am one of them," he responded haughtily. "Excuse me for having standards."
"You fall into bed with a new maid or soldier weekly," Velanna scoffed.
"Not recently." He'd given up his more casual trysts the moment Nathaniel had shown the slightest hint of interest. He still flirted, of course, he wasn't dead, but he hadn't acted on it in weeks.
"Hmmmph," was all Velanna deigned to reply with.
Sigrun elbowed her. "I think it's sweet,Lannan. Our Anders is in love!"
Anders flinched away, completely involuntarily, only playing it up after the fact to disguise the truth of the reaction; he threw himself into the dirt in pretend horror. "Don't slander my guys name like that, Sigrun! I simply realized the second most attractive man in the Vigil was interested in me, and am acting accordingly."
"Let me guess: the most attractive man being you?" Velanna sneered, and Anders winked at her.
"But of course, my lady."
"You're wrong on both counts," Sigrun corrected, as he knew she would; they'd had this argument countless times now. "Aedan is much more attractive than Nathaniel. Or you, sorry sweetie."
Grateful for the change of subject, he let his attention drift back to his Commander and Nathaniel. "You just like beards, Sugrun," he said distractedly.
He hopped up again the moment they called it a draw, trying his best to look casual as he once again approached the shorter man. "Maker, Nate, you don't know what you do to me, do you?" he asked once he got close went for a veneer of privacy.
Nathaniel, already flushed from exertion, turned a deeper shade of red at Anders' words. "I certainly have an idea, with the way you look at me, healer," he muttered, wiping his face dry on a scrap of linen.
"And how do I look at you?"
"The way I look at you. Only I have the sense to wait till the whole Vigil isn't staring."