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Dragon Age Kiss Battle: Go!
Welcome to the 2014 Dragon Age Kiss Battle!
Any kind of kiss is welcome -- het, slash, femslash; shippy, familial, gen; cheek kisses, mouth kisses, kissing of... other things; serious, fluffy, silly, or all three at once; fanfic, fanart, whatever you come up with; anything goes!
The post is now open! I don't anticipate closing it, so come by any time!
THE RULES:
- To leave a request: Post a comment with character(s) and, if desired, a prompt. Put the pairing/character(s) in the subject line and the prompt in the body of the comment.
- To respond: Reply to the prompting comment. Include characters, rating, and title in the subject line. If your response includes content relating to Dragon Age: Inquisition, please also note that in the subject line.
- Multiple responses are both allowed and encouraged!
- There is no limit to the number of prompts you can post.
- Artwork can be posted inline, but try not to make it too large. Please link to images that are very large or NSFW.
- Please, be kind to others regarding pairing choices, prompts, or anything else. This game is for everyone! :)
- Anon commenting is on, as is OpenID, if you neither have nor want a Dreamwidth account.
- Send your friends! :D
If you have questions, please ask them here. Thanks, and happy kissing!!
Fergus/Anora
Re: Fergus/Anora
Anora looked up, surprised at the voice. "Your Grace?" she asked, blinking slowly. Rubbing her eyes, she tried to make sense of how far her candle had burned down on her desk, and was astonished to find it almost gone. "Usually it's your sister who comes in here to remind me to go to bed."
Fergus chuckled as he limped across the room. "She left for Amaranthine, remember? I promised her I'd make sure you didn't kill yourself with work."
"Well, for that matter, when are you going back to Highever? They need their Teyrn, after all." That limp was still a harsh reminder of what he'd gone through during the Blight, and yet another reason to hate Rendon Howe.
With a shrug, Fergus put himself into the chair his sister normally occupied at Anora's side. Reaching over to begin tidying up the papers on the desk, he said, "The Seneschal assures me that seeing Highever in its current state would be, in a word, heartbreaking. After what I've heard about Howe, I think I will trust his judgment. So you're stuck with me at least another year while they clean up Howe's mess. Most decisions can be made by me remotely, anyway, during the rebuilding."
"True. My father administered much of Gwaren's affairs from Denerim during my youth." She watched his hands, still a warrior's hands despite what had happened to him, and again wondered what they would feel like. Clearing her throat to clear her thoughts, she put her hand on his to halt his motion. "I need the paper on top. That one requires only my signature, and then I can call it a night."
"Of course, Your Majesty," he said, duly moving his hands out of the way.
Forcing herself to let go of his hand, she said, "Well, if you are going to be here for the foreseeable future, let us dispense with the formalities, shall we? Call me Anora. It has fewer syllables and works just as well."
"And you may call me Fergus." He threw a wink at her. "Like you used to. Or maybe you'd prefer to call me Turdus Fergus again?"
"I was four years old!" The words escaped before she could stop them, and she glared at him until she had to turn away or start laughing. "I think I can manage Fergus." Not looking at him, she signed the document and set her quill firmly next to the inkwell. "There. All done."
"Then you need to go to bed. Elissa said--"
"I can imagine what she said," Anora said crisply, rubbing absently at her writing hand. She was startled when Fergus reached over and grasped it between his own, carefully rubbing at the parts that hurt. "You--you don't need to do that, Fergus."
He shrugged. "Sore muscles need to be taken care of." Letting go, he smoothed his hand over his leg. "A lesson I've learned most keenly these last few months." Before a stricken Anora could apologize, he stood. "Now, seeing as you are indeed going to go to bed like you promised, I will take my leave of you." He held out his hand expectantly.
Without much thought, she put one of her hands in his outstretched ones. Certainly it wasn't an uncommon way for a noble to take his leave of the Queen. It wasn't until he'd turned her hand and bent over it, brushing it gently with his lips, that she even realized he'd meant something other than a firm handshake. And by then, her tongue was well and truly tied.
"Remember, Anora, if you need me, I'm always within reach." After a little squeeze, he let go of her hand and left, limping slowly out of the room.
Anora stared at the door through which he'd gone for several long, silent minutes, then sighed and shook her head. Not now, she told herself firmly. Ferelden's needs were many, and she was only one woman.
At least, that's what she told herself. And then she would remember his hands...
Re: Fergus/Anora