☆.。.:*・°☆. carousel of doomed children ☆.。.:*・°☆.
It hurts not to watch her, that’s how bright she is, like light off glass.
knb characters + crying
kiss me on the mouth and set me free
but please don’t bite
isn’t it obvious he wants to be saved?
Her eyes are pure stars, and her fingers, if they touch you, freeze you to the bone.
Indulged in some DLC goodness tonight. Only slightly gutted that no companions got to dress up in silly clothes.
——-
After the hunt the guests are shown to their quarters, and Hawke notices that Duke Prosper has been kind enough to give him two separate rooms. Isabela and Tallis are in there now, no doubt getting ready for the party themselves. The rooms are connected by a door that locks from either side, and Fenris has done that while Hawke bathes in the water. He smiles, overcome with the familiar joy of becoming clean after being dirty for so long.
It is scented with roses and he is surprised that there are not flower petals also floating on the water. It seems like a very Orlesian thing to do, and he remembers his mother mentioning baths like this to Bethany long ago. That sometimes, she would go out to the fields and pick Andraste’s Grace for Bethany’s bathwater while Malcolm taught her how to light the fire to heat it. That she would smile and offer both him and Carver scented bathwater as well and Carver would protest.
It is not something they did very often; it wasn’t a good idea to waste water.
“I did not see you as the type to enjoy such luxuries,” Fenris says, “your baths at the estate are never this fancy.”
“I don’t, usually,” Hawke says, and dips his hair back into the water. The only reason that Hawke’s baths are fancy at all in Hightown is because he takes them in the bronze bathtub that came with the estate. “Are you sure you don’t want to join me?”
“Whether I want to and whether I should are two different things, Hawke,” Fenris says, walking over to the tub with a towel. “And if you insist on playing this game with the Duke I shall not delay you.”
“We can be fashionably late, you know,” Hawke says. “As winners of the hunt.”
“I will admit I am unfamiliar with Orlesian social graces,” Fenris says, “I am only giving you my advice. I’ve seen them plenty of times before. My sword cannot help you here.”
Yes, of course Fenris would know of Tevinter social faux pas. Not for the first time, Hawke is impressed at the details Fenris notices.
“I am a Ferelden at an Orlesian party in the Free Marches,” Hawke says. “Perhaps there can be some understanding for a miscommunication.” But nonetheless, he rises from the tub and accepts the offered towel. He doesn’t miss the way Fenris’ eyes follow the water trails down his body, his jaw tightening for a moment before looking at Hawke’s face once more.
As he towels himself dry he walks over to where two outfits have been laid out by servants. Hawke starts to dress himself and notices that Fenris makes no move to put on the clothing offered to him.
“You will go to the party in your armor, then?”
Fenris nods. “You may put your faith in Tallis for reasons I do not understand, but I do not. I would rather be prepared for a fight.”
Hawke sighs. “It’s a pity. That vest would bring out your eyes.”
“It’s hideous.”
“It was a joke.”
Hawke tightens the laces on his sleeve, but these are not like his bracers and soon Fenris is taking off his gauntlets and walking to Hawke’s side He pushes his hand away to work the laces himself. His calloused fingers are nimble in a way that Hawke knows that few have seen.
“I am capable of dressing myself, you know.” This was not something Fenris needed to do. Not for him.
Fenris does not even look up. “And yet you persist in proving otherwise.” When he did not let Hawke pull his arm away, Hawke let the tension in his arm bleed out, and brushed the fingers on the inside of Fenris’ wrists.
Reblogging my own pic because fic to go with it = ahhhh <3 Love.
ひるなかの流星; 昼行闪耀的流星 ★☆ (The Daytime Shooting Star)
a song of ice and fire aesthetics:
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