Summary: “No matter the endeavour you were on, no matter the storms you
encountered on rocky seas, or the possible threat of encountering blood-thirsty
pirates, no one intrigued you or intimidated you more than the thought of him,
of Park Jimin, the most notorious of pirates, the most brutal of men,
the devil incarnate.”
Like a scene straight out of a movie, the moment he was summoned, the world seemed to get darker. They were just standing on a rocky cliff, the sun high above them as gentle ocean waves crashed against the rocky shore below. Now, grey and heavy storm clouds rolled out of nowhere and blanketed the sky, hiding the sun and threatening to send a cascade of rain atop their heads. The once gentle ocean now churned and crashed against the cliff side so hard, Lincoln was sure that it was trying to bring the entire rock face and them with it down to the bottom of the sea. Somewhere along the sea horizon, thunder rolled.
And there he was. Standing tall and menacing before them, surrounded by a thick, neon green mist that circled around his calves. His eyes piercing the dark like two cursed emeralds, dangerous and threatening, and even though all his instincts told him to look away and bolt like a wee barra into his mother’s skirts, Lincoln couldn’t help but stare back into them.
He was staring into the eyes of a god. The god. The god he had been warned to never be in contact with. The god that had more rumors spread about him than legends. The god that even the other gods, his own father included, never talked about.
The god that had been lost for generations, was standing right before his very eyes. Glowing, practically overflowing with unused ancient energy that seemed to course and surge around him like green venomous lightning.
All because some fourteen year old girl called him a Seaweed Brain.
oh heck yes! I’ve never really written for these two like this, so I had a lot of fun and this piece is unrepentantly fluffy af. Hope you like it!! <3
19. kisses meant to distract the other from whatever they were intently doing
“Am I boring you?”
Fenris blinks, raising his eyes from the spot he’d been staring at on the table to see Sebastian watching him, a small, amused smile on his face. He drops his gaze again.
“Forgive me, I—was distracted.”
“Aye, I could tell that much at least.” Sebastian leans back in his chair, stretching his arms out to the sides. They sit at the table in Fenris’s room in the mansion he claimed from his former master, neither of them mentioning the spring storm currently turning Fenris’s bed into a waterlogged mess. The fire jumps and sways in the grate, caught by the wind currents that come through the hole in the roof, and the candle they have on their table flickers. Fenris moves his scrap of parchment away just barely, scowling at the wick. He scowls at Sebastian too when he chuckles and moves the paper back to where it was.
“Not that the table isn’t fascinating,” Sebastian says, placing his elbows on the table to either side of the book he has open in front of him, “but I hardly think it worth such scrutiny.” Except, perhaps, for the spot on the table that Fenris has nearly dug a hole in from scratching at it absently with his gauntlets still on. But that spot is at the end, past where they both are sitting.
“Perhaps not,” Fenris allows. He half-turns away from the table to watch the rain tap against the intact glass of the window. They still expect Danarius at nearly every turn, especially after that run-in with Hadriana, but it is a testament to how far Fenris has grown, and how comfortable he is with Sebastian, that he will choose to sit with his back facing the window at all.
“Do you wish to stop? We have been at this for hours.” Sebastian gestures to the book in front of himself and the discarded quill and ink bottle near Fenris’s parchment. Fenris looks back at him, taking in the book and parchment, and frowns. His eyes dart across the room, to the corner near the fireplace, and Sebastian can see the moment the idea sparks on Fenris’s face.
“No, but…perhaps a change of pace?” Fenris swings up from the table easily, not weighed down this afternoon by his armor. He wears a simple tunic and breeches, though his sword is still within easy reach of the table, and steps lightly across the room, as if dancing. The grace with which he moves is often mesmerizing, doubly so when nothing hinders him, when he allows himself that freedom of movement, the vulnerability that comes from being unarmored.
It surprises Sebastian when Fenris, upon his return to the table, rounds the end and sits next to him instead of resuming his earlier seat across from him. It is not often that he chooses to be so close. He holds out a book, and Sebastian takes it gently.
“Will you read aloud?” Fenris asks, looking at the book rather than at Sebastian.
So Sebastian does, opening the book to the page marked with a spare scrap of cloth and starting at the first full sentence. Or, at least, he tries to but is interrupted by a soft cough from Fenris who says, “I’ve read that page already,” and leans over to point out where he left off. Sebastian expects Fenris to move back, to sit up again, but he doesn’t, simply rests his head against Sebastian’s shoulder and waits patiently for him to continue.
So he does.
The rain provides a soothing backdrop for the story, one Sebastian has heard many times before in different settings, about a maiden fair in some terrible predicament and the brave knight to her rescue. The book itself is full of such tales, and Sebastian wonders idly if Fenris has perhaps borrowed this from Varric. It does seem the sort of volume the dwarf would keep on his shelves. It certainly doesn’t sound like one Hawke would have. Sebastian himself hasn’t heard this story in years, since he was younger, and finds himself just as engrossed in the reading as Fenris seems to be.
The next story runs in a similar vein, this time a tale of star-crossed lovers denied each other by warring families. Definitely from Varric’s library, then. Partway through, Fenris shifts his head to press his lips against Sebastian’s shoulder before returning to his previous position, rolling a hand for Sebastian to continue reading and acting as though he hadn’t done anything when he turns to look. Sebastian is able to get another few paragraphs in before Fenris does it again. He doesn’t stop reading this time, merely looks over and raises an eyebrow. The expression on Fenris’s face is one of studied innocence, and Sebastian doesn’t buy it for an instant. But he returns his gaze to the book anyway, amused at the pleased huff Fenris makes.
He allows this to happen twice more, Fenris kissing his shoulder then resuming his full-body lean against Sebastian, before he places his finger between the pages as a bookmark and twists his upper body toward the elf. Fenris smiles softly at him from very close, not having moved away when Sebastian turned.
“Well?” Sebastian asks. “Is there something I can do for you?”
Fenris blinks slowly, still smiling, and shakes his head. “There is, however, something I can do for you.”
“Is there now?”
In answer, Fenris reaches for the book, lightly prying it from Sebastian’s grasp and pulling it toward himself. He moves in closer to Sebastian, tucking himself underneath the man’s arm and picking his feet up to place them on the bench, his knees resting against the side of the table. Sebastian shifts position slightly to better accommodate Fenris’s weight against his chest rather than his shoulder, a smile slowly creeping up his face as Fenris scans for the place Sebastian left off and, softly at first, begins to read aloud to him.