I would agree with Bob-san that this could be a good closer, unless Zev spoked to you again
FanFiction/Art - Final Chapter (Aedan), (12/27) Interludes
Débuté par
Sisimka
, févr. 25 2010 05:06
#751
Posté 19 avril 2010 - 05:21
Olwaye
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Nice to see the box scene from Zev POV, really well done Sisi.
I would agree with Bob-san that this could be a good closer, unless Zev spoked to you again
I would agree with Bob-san that this could be a good closer, unless Zev spoked to you again
Retour en haut
#753
Posté 19 avril 2010 - 10:49
Maximus741000
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Great chapter, I admire how you explore the emotions and thoughts of your characters, and Zevran's is a very interesting perspective. I look forward to your future endeavours with earnesty.
#754
Posté 20 avril 2010 - 01:59
Sisimka
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MaevesChild on (BSN and DA) did the most wonderful picture of Aedan for me. I link it here for your viewing (squeeing) pleasure. I can't thank her enough for taking the time, it's a wonderful, wonderful picture.
#755
Posté 20 avril 2010 - 02:04
Maximus741000
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WOW! That's just just.. wow! She certainly captured Aedan in his most dangerous and not to mention most impressive.
#756
Posté 20 avril 2010 - 02:20
Sandtigress
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Oh my, that's just gorgeous! Hello handsome!!
#758
Posté 20 avril 2010 - 03:27
FerreusVir
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And now I look at Zevran in a whole new light.
Awesome picture by the way, gives Aedan the air of quiet badassness that only our hero can convey.
Awesome picture by the way, gives Aedan the air of quiet badassness that only our hero can convey.
#759
Posté 20 avril 2010 - 06:48
Sisimka
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I do have a final chapter coming for 'Brothers In Arms', so thanks for your comments and patience. I might get it out today (have only just started to write though). Sometimes I actually have to write for work (money, yay!).
#760
Posté 20 avril 2010 - 07:31
bob-san
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Facial hair also seems to be a factor at times when determining one's badassness level, like Aedan above. My Cousland, Rhydderch, went with the Vandyke style and seems a little more badass than if he went without.
Now let's all be quiet and let Sisi write more.
Now let's all be quiet and let Sisi write more.
#761
Posté 21 avril 2010 - 12:46
Sisimka
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Chapter Twelve
Zevran glanced over at Kayley’s sleeping form and admired her loveliness. She inspired within in a sense of calm he’d not properly recognised until yesterday. Dawn barely tinged the sky beyond his two windows, but he’d had enough sleep. Today Alistair would be married and likely as not, his entire afternoon and evening would be consumed by the festivities. This morning he wanted to visit with and talk to his brother.
Slipping through shadow was habit and though not entirely necessary in Denerim, Zevran did it anyway, dancing from corner to street, down alleyways and even over a couple of roofs as the whim took him. He paused on the last rooftop and took in the vista below him, Denerim at dawn. Even in slumber it differed greatly from Antiva City. The smells were different; already Zevran missed the hint of spice the cooler Ferelden air seemed to lack. The city had been swept clean for the King’s wedding day, however, and Zevran smiled at the pride the residents had taken in their task, painting their doors, hanging fresh window boxes and even going so far as to scrub the cobblestones.
Zevran slipped down a drain pipe and actually surprised a woman throwing open her shutters to greet the morning. He melted into shadow, leaving her gaping at the space he’d previously occupied as he chuckled and moved around the corner of the building and dropped to the ground. Strolling up to the Pearl he passed through the outer doors and into the interior and was not surprised to find the bar already held two patrons, most likely leftovers from the night before, and Sanga, the proprietor. Zevran did not know when the woman found time to sleep; she’d never not been in attendance on his varied visits.
She greeted him with, “Good morning, Zevran! You are here to visit with your friend? He has not left his room, but I have made sure his every request was met.”
Zevran raised a brow. “Requests?” Was Juilden that much recovered?
“Food, bathing water, nothing I’d need to be more discreet over, however. You needn’t worry on that score.” She winked at him and Zevran realised she suspected Juilden was his lover. Juilden and he had stood rather close together the day before, a result their shared apprehension over his brother being an accused assassin in Ferelden.
He smiled and dipped his head. “Thank you for looking after my brother, Sanga.”
Sanga laughed in response and gestured for him to make his way toward the guest rooms. Zevran stopped outside Juilden’s door and tapped lightly. The door opened almost immediately and Juilden greeted him with a nod and a grunt before stepped back to allow him entrance.
Zevran looked around the room and saw the evidence of at least two meals, which comforted him. He’d only left Juilden alone for one night, but he’d been afraid his brother might not eat without him there to remind him of mealtimes. He moved to the couch and sat down, relaxing back, at ease in Juilden’s company, and in Denerim, in a way he’d not been in Antiva.
Juilden started their conversation. “Your job is done?”
Zevran nodded. “It is done.”
“What next then, brother?”
What next indeed. Zevran had thought of little else on the entire voyage home and even during the previous evening in while in the company of Kayley. He had awoken this morning encompassed by an overwhelming sense of peace and well being. Opening his eyes in his spare but bright room had felt natural, right. He’d felt at home. It had been unexpected but Zevran had greeted the feeling with relief. His decision, he thought, was made. He would stay in Ferelden. No more contracts and betrayal, no more creeping sensations between his shoulder blades. But, he still had one concern – his brother. Was there a place for Juilden in Ferelden? He had ascertained that Juilden had yet to make an actual attempt on Alistair’s life by the time he’d been caught, but that didn’t mean he would not have, had the situation not turned so rapidly to his advantage. He had come to Ferelden to lure Zevran back to Antiva, but he’d also come to Denerim to fulfill a contract.
“What next indeed. I think I have come to a decision, but I would hear your thoughts first. Do you wish to return to Antiva?”
Juilden’s expression hardened and a quiet fury burned behind his eyes. Zevran swallowed, ready for an outpouring of rage and grief and was surprised when Juilden did neither. When he spoke his voice was cold and controlled. “My thoughts? They lay with my family, of course. I seek revenge, Zevran, and we have a way to achieve that. I can see your complacency; your face has softened even from yesterday when you left me here.” He shrugged. “It is no matter, I will do this myself, as I started this war, I will finish it.”
“You intend to join Seryer then? Perhaps talk him into forcing the Brethren to return to Tevinter?” It would be a logical step, a plan even Seryer might consider. Zevran rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “You would be his forever, Juilden, if you were to return to Antiva.” And he would miss his brother, he realised, if Juilden returned to Antiva without him.
“Not if you came with me, brother!” Juilden’s eyes flashed. “You would be his second and together we could depose him, perhaps in only a few years. You and I have quite the reputation. We could turn many Crows to our side, strike when we had enough support. You could lead the Crows and together we could grind Cerin into dust. I would not let her return to Tevinter, I would see her dead and her Brethren scattered to the wind.”
Juilden’s plan was not without appeal. Zevran could easily imagine his life turning out that way, with the proper connections, a whisper in the correct ear, the right contracts, this could be done. It would not be easy, but some things were worth working for. Zevran shook his head suddenly. Why was he even considering this? He’d all but made up his mind to stay as he walked through this door, but now his brother once again dangled two irresistible lures in front of him: leadership and revenge.
But Antiva was a long way away now and with the distance, his desire for it had faded. He found himself shaking his head once again. “I will not be returning, Juilden, and neither should you.” What would he do with his brother? Alistair and Aedan were good men, kind men; they had given him a second chance. Would they do the same for Juilden? “Stay here with me. Let us build a new life, one where we do not need to watch each other’s backs or taste everything for poison. One were we fight for a cause, instead of a price. This I have done for the past three years and yes, it has changed me. I believe it has made me a better man.”
“But what of my family?” Juilden’s voice was full of anguish. “They are gone, Zevran, gone!”
Zevran put a hand on his shoulder. “Yes, Juilden, they are gone.”
Juilden shrugged off his hand and stood up. “You should not have brought me here. If I’d known you would turn on me like this, I’d not have come.”
“I am not turning on you, Juilden. I am offering you to do something different with your life, something new. I do not suggest that you forget your family, but perhaps you can honor their memory in a way that does not involve more betrayal and needless death.”
Juilden had been so quiet for most of the voyage, his bitterness now hit Zevran as unexpected. But as he thought upon it, he realised that his brother had moved on from grief to anger. How could he help him take the next step, the one to acceptance and eventual peace?
“Juilden, will you give me a day?” He could not talk to Alistair or Aedan today, not as he needed to. He would not interrupt the King’s wedding for this. “I will not abandon you brother, I understand your desire for revenge. I’m offering you a better way.” And he fervently hoped he was… Aedan wouldn’t let him down, not intentionally, of that he was sure. He’d speak to him on Juilden’s behalf tomorrow.
Juilden gazed at him a moment, his eyes hard and calculating and then he nodded. He stepped forward so suddenly Zevran flinched, but his intent was not malicious. Juilden pulled him into a hug, a rough clasp that surprised him. Moving back, Juilden said, “You have been a good brother, Zevran.”
Zevran nodded slowly, his voice quiet as he answered, “As have you, Juilden. I… your loss is mine. If not for me…” and he dropped his head. Juilden had lost everything in an effort to save his life. Was he being selfish in his desire to stay here, in not wanting to honour Juilden’s need for revenge? He looked up again and met his brother’s eyes. “If I cannot secure a place for you here, I will return to Antiva with you. This I swear.”
He grasped Juilden’s arm in a gesture of comradeship and promise.
+++++
Zevran had not expected to enjoy Alistair’s wedding quite so much as he did. Having a beautiful woman on his arm certainly helped. It was not often he saw Kayley out of her leathers, and then they usually weren’t dressed at all. But Leliana had taken the young elven woman shopping for a dress and their choice was perfectly suited to Kayley’s delicate looks.
He also enjoyed seeing Alistair’s happiness and the reflection of it in his new wife. Aedan and Leliana always looked happy when they were together, but they looked especially radiant as they sat beside one another at the head of the table. And why not, they were sharing in perhaps the happiest event of their dear friend’s life. The wardens all greeted Zevran warmly and he felt a part of them the entire evening. Instead of making him happy though, it made him sad. He could sense Aedan and Alistair watching him from time to time and he made the effort to look more relaxed, happier, but he found it hard as his mind kept returning to his conversation with Juilden and the fact that he might soon be leaving Ferelden again, forever.
When he finally met Aedan alone the next morning, his friend looked rested and well, but his eyes held new shadows. Kayley had told him what had occurred along the Northern Highway: the tainted village, the loss of Erald, and Luke’s subsequent induction into the Grey Wardens, and he’d been horrified by it.
They chatted idly about the evening before for a while before one of the palace servants bustled into the small sitting room with a tray of refreshments for them. After she had left, Zevran took the opportunity to commiserate with Aedan over Luke’s fate.
“Kayley told me what happened on the Northern Highway, Aedan. I am sorry things turned out as they did.”
Aedan looked away a moment and when he returned his gaze, his eyes had darkened. He merely nodded and said softly, “As am I.”
Zevran sensed immediately that Aedan would prefer not to talk of it further and so he pressed on. “Did you want specifics regarding my time in Antiva or did my trophy suffice?”
A half smile crooked the warrior’s lips and Zevran relaxed a little. “If you have any pertinent details you feel you need to share, Zev, by all means. But if you say the matter is ended, then it is. I trust you.” Aedan’s smile warmed and he titled his head a little before adding, “I think we have both seen more these past three weeks than we’d liked to have.” Again he hesitated, considered, and then added, “Um… if there’s anything you wanted to talk about, I’d be happy to listen.”
And he would be, Zevran knew that. Perhaps because he was a man of few words himself, Aedan was an exceptional listener. “There is something I’d like to talk to you about, Aedan. The assassin I took back to Antiva with me, Juilden.” How to put this delicately… “He is better known to me than I first let on.”
Aedan frowned. “Runir told me Juilden was your brother, is that why you look so changed?” He leaned back and cleared his throat. “I don’t mean to pry, I just… I don’t like to see my friends looking so lost, Zev.”
Zevran saw his opening. “I have changed, but I think you will agree for the better. That is what I’d like to discuss. I’m sure you remember our first meeting?” Zevran smiled and Aedan responded with a grin of his own. “You offered me my life, and then your friendship. Two gestures I will never forget. I humbly ask you to make that same offer to my brother.” He saw Aedan’s eyes widen and he held up a hand.
Aedan nodded and said quietly, “I will listen.”
“He has lost much, everything in fact. What he did, well, I think you’d understand his motivations, Aedan, perhaps better than any other. He did something no assassin in their right mind should.” Zevran sighed and shook his head, hoping Aedan wouldn’t take the next as a bad reflection on his own relationship, but he felt it might be the only way to make his friend understand his brother’s plight. “He fell in love, he married and he had a child. Because of this business, they are…gone.” He looked up at Aedan and asked, “He needs a new start, a place to belong again. Would you extend him the same gift as you gave me?”
Aedan considered him for only a moment before saying, “Yes.”
Zevran had hoped for this answer of course, but speed with which Aedan responded stunned him. “You will speak to Alistair on his behalf?”
“I will. I assume you brought him back to Ferelden with you?”
“I did. Aedan, are you sure about this? I cannot imagine Alistair will be pleased.” Zevran did not want to cause any problems between the two men who were as close as brothers.
Aedan smiled. “He’ll give me that eyebrow, Zev, you know the one. But I think he’ll see it as a fair exchange for Anora’s head. He owes you a debt of gratitude, yes, but he’ll agree because he is also your friend. This is what friends do, right? Give gifts to one another.”
Zevran nodded slowly and looked up again as Aedan grasped his arm. “Thank you, Aedan.”
“You’re welcome, Zev.”
+++++
Zevran returned to The Pearl, but he’d barely stepped through the door before Sanga handed him a note. He opened it, read it, and ran down the hall, bursting through the door to Juilden’s room without knocking. The room was empty, Juilden was gone. Zevran read the note once more:
Brother, follow your heart, stay with your friends, your Kayley and your new life. Here you are a better man. Though Ferelden is your home now, there will come a day when you will be welcomed back to Antiva. I will send word when that day comes.
_____
Thanks to everyone that read and commented on Brothers in Arms. I realised halfway through ‘Gifts’ that I really wanted to include Zevran’s POV, but as his plot developed in my mind, I further realised I’d like to tackle it separately. Though I always start a story with a beginning and an end in mind, and a fairly firm plot direction (incl. intentional misdirection!) this story did change a little in the writing. Originally I did intend for Zevran to return to Antiva at the end and to lead the Crows as suggested by one of the endgame epilogue cards (this is actually the one Aedan got in his play through). I also liked the idea of tying in some of his previous jobs for the Crows (the prince).
But, I didn’t count on two things: Juilden and Seryer. Juilden grew on me, yes he did. He should have died after the showdown with the Baron, but I found myself quite unable to kill him, so I had to rework the rest of the story to fit. I dithered for three days over killing his family, it made me very sad, but I saw it as a necessary motivator for two reasons: One, Zevran would be deeply affected by it, and Two, Juilden would have the desire to return to Antiva and seek revenge, thereby fulfilling Zevran’s intended role as leader of the Crows. I am really looking forward to further exploring Seryer’s character.
So yes, there will be a sequel to this. Likely it will be a complete departure from anything I’ve previously written for DA because it will be all my own characters and my version of Antiva. It will be a fun project!
I hope you found my departures and conclusions satisfying and I fervently hope I did Zevran justice with this little tale. Thanks again for reading.
Zevran glanced over at Kayley’s sleeping form and admired her loveliness. She inspired within in a sense of calm he’d not properly recognised until yesterday. Dawn barely tinged the sky beyond his two windows, but he’d had enough sleep. Today Alistair would be married and likely as not, his entire afternoon and evening would be consumed by the festivities. This morning he wanted to visit with and talk to his brother.
Slipping through shadow was habit and though not entirely necessary in Denerim, Zevran did it anyway, dancing from corner to street, down alleyways and even over a couple of roofs as the whim took him. He paused on the last rooftop and took in the vista below him, Denerim at dawn. Even in slumber it differed greatly from Antiva City. The smells were different; already Zevran missed the hint of spice the cooler Ferelden air seemed to lack. The city had been swept clean for the King’s wedding day, however, and Zevran smiled at the pride the residents had taken in their task, painting their doors, hanging fresh window boxes and even going so far as to scrub the cobblestones.
Zevran slipped down a drain pipe and actually surprised a woman throwing open her shutters to greet the morning. He melted into shadow, leaving her gaping at the space he’d previously occupied as he chuckled and moved around the corner of the building and dropped to the ground. Strolling up to the Pearl he passed through the outer doors and into the interior and was not surprised to find the bar already held two patrons, most likely leftovers from the night before, and Sanga, the proprietor. Zevran did not know when the woman found time to sleep; she’d never not been in attendance on his varied visits.
She greeted him with, “Good morning, Zevran! You are here to visit with your friend? He has not left his room, but I have made sure his every request was met.”
Zevran raised a brow. “Requests?” Was Juilden that much recovered?
“Food, bathing water, nothing I’d need to be more discreet over, however. You needn’t worry on that score.” She winked at him and Zevran realised she suspected Juilden was his lover. Juilden and he had stood rather close together the day before, a result their shared apprehension over his brother being an accused assassin in Ferelden.
He smiled and dipped his head. “Thank you for looking after my brother, Sanga.”
Sanga laughed in response and gestured for him to make his way toward the guest rooms. Zevran stopped outside Juilden’s door and tapped lightly. The door opened almost immediately and Juilden greeted him with a nod and a grunt before stepped back to allow him entrance.
Zevran looked around the room and saw the evidence of at least two meals, which comforted him. He’d only left Juilden alone for one night, but he’d been afraid his brother might not eat without him there to remind him of mealtimes. He moved to the couch and sat down, relaxing back, at ease in Juilden’s company, and in Denerim, in a way he’d not been in Antiva.
Juilden started their conversation. “Your job is done?”
Zevran nodded. “It is done.”
“What next then, brother?”
What next indeed. Zevran had thought of little else on the entire voyage home and even during the previous evening in while in the company of Kayley. He had awoken this morning encompassed by an overwhelming sense of peace and well being. Opening his eyes in his spare but bright room had felt natural, right. He’d felt at home. It had been unexpected but Zevran had greeted the feeling with relief. His decision, he thought, was made. He would stay in Ferelden. No more contracts and betrayal, no more creeping sensations between his shoulder blades. But, he still had one concern – his brother. Was there a place for Juilden in Ferelden? He had ascertained that Juilden had yet to make an actual attempt on Alistair’s life by the time he’d been caught, but that didn’t mean he would not have, had the situation not turned so rapidly to his advantage. He had come to Ferelden to lure Zevran back to Antiva, but he’d also come to Denerim to fulfill a contract.
“What next indeed. I think I have come to a decision, but I would hear your thoughts first. Do you wish to return to Antiva?”
Juilden’s expression hardened and a quiet fury burned behind his eyes. Zevran swallowed, ready for an outpouring of rage and grief and was surprised when Juilden did neither. When he spoke his voice was cold and controlled. “My thoughts? They lay with my family, of course. I seek revenge, Zevran, and we have a way to achieve that. I can see your complacency; your face has softened even from yesterday when you left me here.” He shrugged. “It is no matter, I will do this myself, as I started this war, I will finish it.”
“You intend to join Seryer then? Perhaps talk him into forcing the Brethren to return to Tevinter?” It would be a logical step, a plan even Seryer might consider. Zevran rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “You would be his forever, Juilden, if you were to return to Antiva.” And he would miss his brother, he realised, if Juilden returned to Antiva without him.
“Not if you came with me, brother!” Juilden’s eyes flashed. “You would be his second and together we could depose him, perhaps in only a few years. You and I have quite the reputation. We could turn many Crows to our side, strike when we had enough support. You could lead the Crows and together we could grind Cerin into dust. I would not let her return to Tevinter, I would see her dead and her Brethren scattered to the wind.”
Juilden’s plan was not without appeal. Zevran could easily imagine his life turning out that way, with the proper connections, a whisper in the correct ear, the right contracts, this could be done. It would not be easy, but some things were worth working for. Zevran shook his head suddenly. Why was he even considering this? He’d all but made up his mind to stay as he walked through this door, but now his brother once again dangled two irresistible lures in front of him: leadership and revenge.
But Antiva was a long way away now and with the distance, his desire for it had faded. He found himself shaking his head once again. “I will not be returning, Juilden, and neither should you.” What would he do with his brother? Alistair and Aedan were good men, kind men; they had given him a second chance. Would they do the same for Juilden? “Stay here with me. Let us build a new life, one where we do not need to watch each other’s backs or taste everything for poison. One were we fight for a cause, instead of a price. This I have done for the past three years and yes, it has changed me. I believe it has made me a better man.”
“But what of my family?” Juilden’s voice was full of anguish. “They are gone, Zevran, gone!”
Zevran put a hand on his shoulder. “Yes, Juilden, they are gone.”
Juilden shrugged off his hand and stood up. “You should not have brought me here. If I’d known you would turn on me like this, I’d not have come.”
“I am not turning on you, Juilden. I am offering you to do something different with your life, something new. I do not suggest that you forget your family, but perhaps you can honor their memory in a way that does not involve more betrayal and needless death.”
Juilden had been so quiet for most of the voyage, his bitterness now hit Zevran as unexpected. But as he thought upon it, he realised that his brother had moved on from grief to anger. How could he help him take the next step, the one to acceptance and eventual peace?
“Juilden, will you give me a day?” He could not talk to Alistair or Aedan today, not as he needed to. He would not interrupt the King’s wedding for this. “I will not abandon you brother, I understand your desire for revenge. I’m offering you a better way.” And he fervently hoped he was… Aedan wouldn’t let him down, not intentionally, of that he was sure. He’d speak to him on Juilden’s behalf tomorrow.
Juilden gazed at him a moment, his eyes hard and calculating and then he nodded. He stepped forward so suddenly Zevran flinched, but his intent was not malicious. Juilden pulled him into a hug, a rough clasp that surprised him. Moving back, Juilden said, “You have been a good brother, Zevran.”
Zevran nodded slowly, his voice quiet as he answered, “As have you, Juilden. I… your loss is mine. If not for me…” and he dropped his head. Juilden had lost everything in an effort to save his life. Was he being selfish in his desire to stay here, in not wanting to honour Juilden’s need for revenge? He looked up again and met his brother’s eyes. “If I cannot secure a place for you here, I will return to Antiva with you. This I swear.”
He grasped Juilden’s arm in a gesture of comradeship and promise.
+++++
Zevran had not expected to enjoy Alistair’s wedding quite so much as he did. Having a beautiful woman on his arm certainly helped. It was not often he saw Kayley out of her leathers, and then they usually weren’t dressed at all. But Leliana had taken the young elven woman shopping for a dress and their choice was perfectly suited to Kayley’s delicate looks.
He also enjoyed seeing Alistair’s happiness and the reflection of it in his new wife. Aedan and Leliana always looked happy when they were together, but they looked especially radiant as they sat beside one another at the head of the table. And why not, they were sharing in perhaps the happiest event of their dear friend’s life. The wardens all greeted Zevran warmly and he felt a part of them the entire evening. Instead of making him happy though, it made him sad. He could sense Aedan and Alistair watching him from time to time and he made the effort to look more relaxed, happier, but he found it hard as his mind kept returning to his conversation with Juilden and the fact that he might soon be leaving Ferelden again, forever.
When he finally met Aedan alone the next morning, his friend looked rested and well, but his eyes held new shadows. Kayley had told him what had occurred along the Northern Highway: the tainted village, the loss of Erald, and Luke’s subsequent induction into the Grey Wardens, and he’d been horrified by it.
They chatted idly about the evening before for a while before one of the palace servants bustled into the small sitting room with a tray of refreshments for them. After she had left, Zevran took the opportunity to commiserate with Aedan over Luke’s fate.
“Kayley told me what happened on the Northern Highway, Aedan. I am sorry things turned out as they did.”
Aedan looked away a moment and when he returned his gaze, his eyes had darkened. He merely nodded and said softly, “As am I.”
Zevran sensed immediately that Aedan would prefer not to talk of it further and so he pressed on. “Did you want specifics regarding my time in Antiva or did my trophy suffice?”
A half smile crooked the warrior’s lips and Zevran relaxed a little. “If you have any pertinent details you feel you need to share, Zev, by all means. But if you say the matter is ended, then it is. I trust you.” Aedan’s smile warmed and he titled his head a little before adding, “I think we have both seen more these past three weeks than we’d liked to have.” Again he hesitated, considered, and then added, “Um… if there’s anything you wanted to talk about, I’d be happy to listen.”
And he would be, Zevran knew that. Perhaps because he was a man of few words himself, Aedan was an exceptional listener. “There is something I’d like to talk to you about, Aedan. The assassin I took back to Antiva with me, Juilden.” How to put this delicately… “He is better known to me than I first let on.”
Aedan frowned. “Runir told me Juilden was your brother, is that why you look so changed?” He leaned back and cleared his throat. “I don’t mean to pry, I just… I don’t like to see my friends looking so lost, Zev.”
Zevran saw his opening. “I have changed, but I think you will agree for the better. That is what I’d like to discuss. I’m sure you remember our first meeting?” Zevran smiled and Aedan responded with a grin of his own. “You offered me my life, and then your friendship. Two gestures I will never forget. I humbly ask you to make that same offer to my brother.” He saw Aedan’s eyes widen and he held up a hand.
Aedan nodded and said quietly, “I will listen.”
“He has lost much, everything in fact. What he did, well, I think you’d understand his motivations, Aedan, perhaps better than any other. He did something no assassin in their right mind should.” Zevran sighed and shook his head, hoping Aedan wouldn’t take the next as a bad reflection on his own relationship, but he felt it might be the only way to make his friend understand his brother’s plight. “He fell in love, he married and he had a child. Because of this business, they are…gone.” He looked up at Aedan and asked, “He needs a new start, a place to belong again. Would you extend him the same gift as you gave me?”
Aedan considered him for only a moment before saying, “Yes.”
Zevran had hoped for this answer of course, but speed with which Aedan responded stunned him. “You will speak to Alistair on his behalf?”
“I will. I assume you brought him back to Ferelden with you?”
“I did. Aedan, are you sure about this? I cannot imagine Alistair will be pleased.” Zevran did not want to cause any problems between the two men who were as close as brothers.
Aedan smiled. “He’ll give me that eyebrow, Zev, you know the one. But I think he’ll see it as a fair exchange for Anora’s head. He owes you a debt of gratitude, yes, but he’ll agree because he is also your friend. This is what friends do, right? Give gifts to one another.”
Zevran nodded slowly and looked up again as Aedan grasped his arm. “Thank you, Aedan.”
“You’re welcome, Zev.”
+++++
Zevran returned to The Pearl, but he’d barely stepped through the door before Sanga handed him a note. He opened it, read it, and ran down the hall, bursting through the door to Juilden’s room without knocking. The room was empty, Juilden was gone. Zevran read the note once more:
Brother, follow your heart, stay with your friends, your Kayley and your new life. Here you are a better man. Though Ferelden is your home now, there will come a day when you will be welcomed back to Antiva. I will send word when that day comes.
_____
Thanks to everyone that read and commented on Brothers in Arms. I realised halfway through ‘Gifts’ that I really wanted to include Zevran’s POV, but as his plot developed in my mind, I further realised I’d like to tackle it separately. Though I always start a story with a beginning and an end in mind, and a fairly firm plot direction (incl. intentional misdirection!) this story did change a little in the writing. Originally I did intend for Zevran to return to Antiva at the end and to lead the Crows as suggested by one of the endgame epilogue cards (this is actually the one Aedan got in his play through). I also liked the idea of tying in some of his previous jobs for the Crows (the prince).
But, I didn’t count on two things: Juilden and Seryer. Juilden grew on me, yes he did. He should have died after the showdown with the Baron, but I found myself quite unable to kill him, so I had to rework the rest of the story to fit. I dithered for three days over killing his family, it made me very sad, but I saw it as a necessary motivator for two reasons: One, Zevran would be deeply affected by it, and Two, Juilden would have the desire to return to Antiva and seek revenge, thereby fulfilling Zevran’s intended role as leader of the Crows. I am really looking forward to further exploring Seryer’s character.
So yes, there will be a sequel to this. Likely it will be a complete departure from anything I’ve previously written for DA because it will be all my own characters and my version of Antiva. It will be a fun project!
I hope you found my departures and conclusions satisfying and I fervently hope I did Zevran justice with this little tale. Thanks again for reading.
Modifié par Sisimka, 21 avril 2010 - 01:26 .
#762
Posté 21 avril 2010 - 02:21
Sandtigress
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Yay, he stayed, he stayed! I wasn't expecting Juilden to leave, actually, but it will definitely make for a great story. Can't wait for it!
#763
Posté 21 avril 2010 - 02:58
bob-san
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An excellent conclusion Sisi. I had an inkling Jeilden would seek to return to Antiva after his last conversation with Zev. Nice to see mine eyes do not deceive. And a seperate story with original characters would be nice. That's my plan (for the most part) when I try and write The Shields of Fereldan (whenever that is)
#764
Posté 21 avril 2010 - 03:01
Sisimka
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bob-san wrote...
And a seperate story with original characters would be nice.
Much as I enjoyed putting together 'Til Death and the other one-shots from within the game, I do much prefer writing the post origins stuff. I prefer to read it too. I love to see what directions people take their PCs in after the game and seeing how they imagine some of the locations we don't get to visit.
#765
Posté 21 avril 2010 - 04:18
FerreusVir
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Y'know, fanfic's are a dime a dozen, usually. This is the one exception. Masterfully written, as I've said before I sort of have to 'log out' of your stories Sisi, you draw me in with such great tales.
Again, I'm impressed. Usually endings suck but you pulled it off. Can't wait to see your Antivan adventure!
Again, I'm impressed. Usually endings suck but you pulled it off. Can't wait to see your Antivan adventure!
#766
Posté 21 avril 2010 - 04:27
bob-san
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Sisimka wrote...
Much as I enjoyed putting together 'Til Death and the other one-shots from within the game, I do much prefer writing the post origins stuff. I prefer to read it too. I love to see what directions people take their PCs in after the game and seeing how they imagine some of the locations we don't get to visit.
I agree. Although in SoF, my plan for new characters came about when I read one of the possible endings for Leliana and thought of a great way to incorporate that where I can remove the Hero of Fereldan and still be within 'canon', such as it would be. Can't say much more than that yet, but hopefully, once I can get a few moments to myself, and the muse will actually speak to me, I can throw together that prologue I've been slowly working on (and reworking over and over)
Modifié par bob-san, 21 avril 2010 - 04:28 .
#767
Posté 21 avril 2010 - 04:45
Sisimka
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@ Sandi - I'm glad he stayed too, Aedan would have missed him terribly!
@ Ferreus - Thanks! I often have to 'log out' of writing them, so I'm glad it translates! (I got a bit teary over Juilden's little note at the end!)
@ Ferreus - Thanks! I often have to 'log out' of writing them, so I'm glad it translates! (I got a bit teary over Juilden's little note at the end!)
#768
Posté 21 avril 2010 - 08:10
MireliA
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Loved the story 
. And I'm so glad Zev stayed too. At least Zev tried to give his brother the option of an alternative life away from the guilds.
. And I'm so glad Zev stayed too. At least Zev tried to give his brother the option of an alternative life away from the guilds.
#769
Posté 21 avril 2010 - 08:16
Maximus741000
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Fantastic conclusion to the story, Sisi! I also look forward to Juliden's story into Tevinter after that damned Cerin, I enjoyed reading your stories of Aedan, Alistair, Leliana and Zevran; and it will be something new to be following a brand new set of characters outside of Ferelden and Origins, but it also sounds very exciting! In short, I look forward to where you take us, because I know it will be great.
#771
Posté 22 avril 2010 - 02:21
Sisimka
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This one-shot was inspired by a kink meme prompt, but I had something different in mind. Instead of sexy-times we have a sweet and thoughtful moment where two friends get to know one another a little better. Those of you who follow me on FF.net may have already seen this one. 
Cookies
Elissa rubbed at her forehead, it ached and the pressure of her fingers did nothing to relieve her stress. It distracted her for a while though before her tummy rumbled again. Maker, this warden appetite, she couldn’t possibly be hungry again? She had more important things to contemplate than an urge to feed her sweet tooth. Things such as an obstinate fellow warden who refused to take Morrigan’s offer, one of them might die tomorrow!
“You just don’t want to be King!” Her voice echoed about the room and she immediately regretted speaking so loudly.
“You’re right, I don’t. But I think ending the Blight is more important than who gets to sit on the throne. If I fall in battle Anora can have the sodding job. Besides, isn’t this what a King should do for his people?”
Elissa felt like screaming. This man, this boy, was the most frustrating human she had ever met. But he was her dear, dear friend and the idea that all they had worked for over the past year might come to a shattering end in just two days depressed her. She tried a different tactic. “She’s very attractive, Alistair, and you have often bemoaned your lack of experience. This is the perfect opportunity to hit two birds with one stone.”
Alistair gave her a look that was at the same time wounded and amused. He had the most mobile face she had ever come across, able to switch from humour to anger at a moment’s notice. She counted herself happy that he had chosen not to lose his temper now. He took her by the shoulders and looked at her steadily. “Elissa, I will think about it, alright? That is the best I can give you right now. I know why you are asking. I know this isn’t about your life or mine, it’s about something bigger and I can appreciate that. But Morrigan? Old magic? It bears just a little more thought.”
She accepted this and he gave her a hug and they said goodnight. Now she sat in her room rubbing her head and thinking about cookies. Elissa hopped off the bed and gave into an impulse. She would go to the kitchen and have a snack, and maybe, just maybe she’d have a quick listen at Alistair’s door on the way back.
The kitchen at Redcliff looked a lot like the one at Castle Cousland and Elissa experienced a wash of homesickness and longing. It was late and the large room echoed quietly in the dim light of the single lantern she carried with her. Elissa set it down and checked the larder first. She found it nearly bare, which hardly surprised her considering the number of people who stayed in the castle tonight. Closing the door she crept quietly around the kitchen looking for something to satisfy her cravings. Some bread, a little cheese, nothing she really felt like. A sound made her look up and she gasped at the large shadow that loomed in the doorway.
“Kadan?”
Sten stepped through and into the circle of light and Elissa relaxed and smiled up at the Qunari warrior. “Come for some cookies?”
He grumbled noncommittally and moved to the larder.
“I’ve already checked, the cupboards are all but bare. It takes a lot to feed an army.” As she spoke her eyes landed on the marble topped pastry bench on the other side of the kitchen. A sack of flour slumped against one side. “Hm…”
Sten had discovered the dearth of edibles in the larder and moved toward the bread.
“Sten, how about if I make some cookies. Will you keep me company?”
The large warrior stood still a moment and considered her. She thought she caught a hint of a smile as he nodded. “Perhaps you should not be down here alone. I will keep watch for you.”
Elissa grinned and set about gathering what she needed to make Nan’s special sugar cookies. Sten would love them, of that she was sure. His craving for sweets far outstripped her own! She grabbed a bowl and located the butter and sugar. Sten watched her curiously as she creamed the butter and sugar together and reached for some eggs.
“How do you know how much to use? I do not see this written down anywhere.”
Elissa smiled at the expression on his face. She hardly performed magic here. “Did you never watch your mother cook, Sten?”
“No.”
“I used to sit in the kitchen with Nan, she was our cook, for hours and watch her bake. There is nothing to compare to the smell of a fresh baked cookie, Sten. Just you wait!”
“Our women only baked sweets for festivals. You must have had many of them at your home.”
Elissa scoffed. “Cookies are for every day treats, Sten! Something so simple should not be saved for a special occasion.” She sobered a little as she added, “Life is too short.”
Elissa finished cracking eggs and reached for the spoon. “Will you build up the heat in the oven for me Sten?” She gave him a coy expression. “Are men allowed to do that?”
“I know how to make a fire, Kadan.”
Sten busied himself in front of the oven and Elissa took a moment to reflect how completely unreal the situation felt. Tomorrow they would march to Denerim to face a horde of darkspawn, but tonight they did simple things. Suddenly she was glad of Sten’s quiet company, he was restful to be around. As he made up the fire Elissa added her dry ingredients to her wet ingredients and set to mixing them with a heavy wooden spoon. She’d perhaps made the dough a little stiff and as she struggled to move it about the bowl she didn’t notice that her tongue poked from between her teeth in concentration. She heard a sound and looked over, Sten was smiling!
“What are you smiling at?”
“You look as though you are killing darkspawn in that bowl. You say this is women’s work?”
Elissa put down the spoon and wiped the hair from her eyes. Her nose tickled and she suspected she had dusted it with flour. She sneezed and Sten rocked back a little at the sound before producing a handkerchief. He actually bent forward, as if he intended to wipe a smudge from her face, then simply handed her the large square of material instead.
“Thank you, Sten. I think the butter is still a little hard. Nan always said I was too impatient.”
The Qunari raised his brows in question.
“The dough is stiff, it’s hard to stir.”
Sten peered into the bowl. “This does not resemble a cookie.”
Elissa laughed. “Well, it hasn’t been baked yet.”
He touched the spoon and tried to move it. “You expect to make this look like a cookie?”
“Here, turn the spoon through the dough. You have the strength of the Beresaad, do you not?” Elissa giggled and Sten gave her a look but turned the spoon. He actually became quite absorbed in the task, his strokes of the spoon firm and methodical and Elissa cleared off the marble surface to make it ready for the dough. She peeked over the lip of the bowl and then up at the warrior’s face. “You never watched your mother cook, not once?”
His purple eyes took on a faraway look and he murmured, “Maybe when I was small. Very small.” He came back to the present. “Before I knew better.”
He thrust the bowl at her then and stepped back. Elissa smiled and thanked him, he waved a hand, but did not move further away. He loomed over her instead, watching as she shaped the dough into a ball and turned it out onto the marble surface.
“You are always so stoic, Sten. Is that how all Qunari men are?”
“Yes.”
So they were back to monosyllabic answers. That was fine. Elissa merely smiled and reached for the rolling pin. She asked the next question that came to mind. “Do you feel fear? Or do you just not show it?”
Sten studied her a while before answering. “Do you feel fear, or do you just not show it?”
Elissa blinked. “Of course I do, and I show it all the time!”
“You look quite fierce in battle. It is most unfeminine.”
Elissa smiled at the mental image this conjured. She’d never stopped to think about what she might have looked like in battle, she focused on the task at hand, which often included backstabbing the same target as Sten.
“Are you worried about the coming battle, Sten?” She thought of Alistair’s refusal to participate in Morrigan’s ritual and continued more quietly, “We may not live to see the end.”
“Worry does not fight, Kadan, strength does.”
Elissa nodded quietly as she began to roll out the dough. Sten looked on curiously and after a moment made a noise of approval. “This appears to be more cookie-like, but bigger. I approve.”
“Here, do you want to cut out a cookie?” Elissa held out the round cookie cutter and Sten simply stared at it as though it might bite him. Elissa pushed it forward, touching it to his fingers and he took it. She picked up the other one and showed him how to press and turn it through the dough. He copied her and Elissa giggled at the sight. He gave her a look and she drew her mouth into a straight line again.
Sten proceeded to cut another cookie and Elissa let him finish the work while she transferred them to a baking sheet. When it was full, she slipped them into the oven and gathered up the leftover dough to roll out again. Sten looked on. After she had rolled it out he picked up the cookie cutter without being asked and proceeded to cut out another tray full of cookies. They were perfect, regular and round.
The first batch had started to smell good and Elissa checked on them. She felt a presence at her elbow and Sten craned forward to peer into the oven. “Those look like cookies. When can we eat them?”
He had flour on his cheek. Elissa closed the oven and reached to wipe it off and he flinched away from her touch. “You have some flour…”
“I am hardly surprised. You look as though you had been dusted in it.”
Elissa would never understand what possessed her then. She took a pinch of flour and flung it at him. His look was priceless. He blinked, shook his head, and the white flour dusted across his dark skin. He laughed, it was an amazing sound. Elissa’s hair almost stood on end. She joined in and they both laughed and it felt good to just laugh at nothing.
Elissa caught her breath and pulled the cookies out of the oven and slid the second batch in. When she turned around Sten had a finger in his mouth. “They have to cool down, Sten!”
He simply nodded. They stood in silence, a comfortable silence while waiting for the next batch to cook and the first batch to cool. Elissa handed him a cookie and then selected one for herself. She noted that he had waited for her and they both took that first bite of fresh warm cookie together.
“What do you think?” Elissa asked.
“This is a good cookie.”
Elissa grinned. They ate a few more each, not talking, merely chewing and enjoying. Elissa set the rest out to cool properly and cleaned up a little. When she turned around, Sten had eaten about half of what they had baked and looked a little guilty.
“Eat as many as you like, Sten. We may not see any more cookies for a while.”
Sten ate a few more and Elissa just watched him.
There were only two cookies left when he was done and Elissa put them on a plate, thinking to take them up for Alistair.
She picked up the lantern and waited for Sten to leave the kitchen ahead of her and they walked the hallway together.
Her room was upstairs and his was around the back, so she paused to say goodnight.
“Thank you, Sten. I haven’t had so relaxing an evening in quite some time.” She wanted to hug him, but she felt that might be pushing it, so she simply smiled and tried to put as much warmth and friendliness into her expression as she could.
Sten smiled in return. A small smile, as his were, but it reached his eyes. “Perhaps you could give me this cookie recipe. After the battle.”
And the way he said ‘after the battle’ made Elissa feel a sense of hope that maybe they would live to see that day after all.
Cookies
Elissa rubbed at her forehead, it ached and the pressure of her fingers did nothing to relieve her stress. It distracted her for a while though before her tummy rumbled again. Maker, this warden appetite, she couldn’t possibly be hungry again? She had more important things to contemplate than an urge to feed her sweet tooth. Things such as an obstinate fellow warden who refused to take Morrigan’s offer, one of them might die tomorrow!
“You just don’t want to be King!” Her voice echoed about the room and she immediately regretted speaking so loudly.
“You’re right, I don’t. But I think ending the Blight is more important than who gets to sit on the throne. If I fall in battle Anora can have the sodding job. Besides, isn’t this what a King should do for his people?”
Elissa felt like screaming. This man, this boy, was the most frustrating human she had ever met. But he was her dear, dear friend and the idea that all they had worked for over the past year might come to a shattering end in just two days depressed her. She tried a different tactic. “She’s very attractive, Alistair, and you have often bemoaned your lack of experience. This is the perfect opportunity to hit two birds with one stone.”
Alistair gave her a look that was at the same time wounded and amused. He had the most mobile face she had ever come across, able to switch from humour to anger at a moment’s notice. She counted herself happy that he had chosen not to lose his temper now. He took her by the shoulders and looked at her steadily. “Elissa, I will think about it, alright? That is the best I can give you right now. I know why you are asking. I know this isn’t about your life or mine, it’s about something bigger and I can appreciate that. But Morrigan? Old magic? It bears just a little more thought.”
She accepted this and he gave her a hug and they said goodnight. Now she sat in her room rubbing her head and thinking about cookies. Elissa hopped off the bed and gave into an impulse. She would go to the kitchen and have a snack, and maybe, just maybe she’d have a quick listen at Alistair’s door on the way back.
The kitchen at Redcliff looked a lot like the one at Castle Cousland and Elissa experienced a wash of homesickness and longing. It was late and the large room echoed quietly in the dim light of the single lantern she carried with her. Elissa set it down and checked the larder first. She found it nearly bare, which hardly surprised her considering the number of people who stayed in the castle tonight. Closing the door she crept quietly around the kitchen looking for something to satisfy her cravings. Some bread, a little cheese, nothing she really felt like. A sound made her look up and she gasped at the large shadow that loomed in the doorway.
“Kadan?”
Sten stepped through and into the circle of light and Elissa relaxed and smiled up at the Qunari warrior. “Come for some cookies?”
He grumbled noncommittally and moved to the larder.
“I’ve already checked, the cupboards are all but bare. It takes a lot to feed an army.” As she spoke her eyes landed on the marble topped pastry bench on the other side of the kitchen. A sack of flour slumped against one side. “Hm…”
Sten had discovered the dearth of edibles in the larder and moved toward the bread.
“Sten, how about if I make some cookies. Will you keep me company?”
The large warrior stood still a moment and considered her. She thought she caught a hint of a smile as he nodded. “Perhaps you should not be down here alone. I will keep watch for you.”
Elissa grinned and set about gathering what she needed to make Nan’s special sugar cookies. Sten would love them, of that she was sure. His craving for sweets far outstripped her own! She grabbed a bowl and located the butter and sugar. Sten watched her curiously as she creamed the butter and sugar together and reached for some eggs.
“How do you know how much to use? I do not see this written down anywhere.”
Elissa smiled at the expression on his face. She hardly performed magic here. “Did you never watch your mother cook, Sten?”
“No.”
“I used to sit in the kitchen with Nan, she was our cook, for hours and watch her bake. There is nothing to compare to the smell of a fresh baked cookie, Sten. Just you wait!”
“Our women only baked sweets for festivals. You must have had many of them at your home.”
Elissa scoffed. “Cookies are for every day treats, Sten! Something so simple should not be saved for a special occasion.” She sobered a little as she added, “Life is too short.”
Elissa finished cracking eggs and reached for the spoon. “Will you build up the heat in the oven for me Sten?” She gave him a coy expression. “Are men allowed to do that?”
“I know how to make a fire, Kadan.”
Sten busied himself in front of the oven and Elissa took a moment to reflect how completely unreal the situation felt. Tomorrow they would march to Denerim to face a horde of darkspawn, but tonight they did simple things. Suddenly she was glad of Sten’s quiet company, he was restful to be around. As he made up the fire Elissa added her dry ingredients to her wet ingredients and set to mixing them with a heavy wooden spoon. She’d perhaps made the dough a little stiff and as she struggled to move it about the bowl she didn’t notice that her tongue poked from between her teeth in concentration. She heard a sound and looked over, Sten was smiling!
“What are you smiling at?”
“You look as though you are killing darkspawn in that bowl. You say this is women’s work?”
Elissa put down the spoon and wiped the hair from her eyes. Her nose tickled and she suspected she had dusted it with flour. She sneezed and Sten rocked back a little at the sound before producing a handkerchief. He actually bent forward, as if he intended to wipe a smudge from her face, then simply handed her the large square of material instead.
“Thank you, Sten. I think the butter is still a little hard. Nan always said I was too impatient.”
The Qunari raised his brows in question.
“The dough is stiff, it’s hard to stir.”
Sten peered into the bowl. “This does not resemble a cookie.”
Elissa laughed. “Well, it hasn’t been baked yet.”
He touched the spoon and tried to move it. “You expect to make this look like a cookie?”
“Here, turn the spoon through the dough. You have the strength of the Beresaad, do you not?” Elissa giggled and Sten gave her a look but turned the spoon. He actually became quite absorbed in the task, his strokes of the spoon firm and methodical and Elissa cleared off the marble surface to make it ready for the dough. She peeked over the lip of the bowl and then up at the warrior’s face. “You never watched your mother cook, not once?”
His purple eyes took on a faraway look and he murmured, “Maybe when I was small. Very small.” He came back to the present. “Before I knew better.”
He thrust the bowl at her then and stepped back. Elissa smiled and thanked him, he waved a hand, but did not move further away. He loomed over her instead, watching as she shaped the dough into a ball and turned it out onto the marble surface.
“You are always so stoic, Sten. Is that how all Qunari men are?”
“Yes.”
So they were back to monosyllabic answers. That was fine. Elissa merely smiled and reached for the rolling pin. She asked the next question that came to mind. “Do you feel fear? Or do you just not show it?”
Sten studied her a while before answering. “Do you feel fear, or do you just not show it?”
Elissa blinked. “Of course I do, and I show it all the time!”
“You look quite fierce in battle. It is most unfeminine.”
Elissa smiled at the mental image this conjured. She’d never stopped to think about what she might have looked like in battle, she focused on the task at hand, which often included backstabbing the same target as Sten.
“Are you worried about the coming battle, Sten?” She thought of Alistair’s refusal to participate in Morrigan’s ritual and continued more quietly, “We may not live to see the end.”
“Worry does not fight, Kadan, strength does.”
Elissa nodded quietly as she began to roll out the dough. Sten looked on curiously and after a moment made a noise of approval. “This appears to be more cookie-like, but bigger. I approve.”
“Here, do you want to cut out a cookie?” Elissa held out the round cookie cutter and Sten simply stared at it as though it might bite him. Elissa pushed it forward, touching it to his fingers and he took it. She picked up the other one and showed him how to press and turn it through the dough. He copied her and Elissa giggled at the sight. He gave her a look and she drew her mouth into a straight line again.
Sten proceeded to cut another cookie and Elissa let him finish the work while she transferred them to a baking sheet. When it was full, she slipped them into the oven and gathered up the leftover dough to roll out again. Sten looked on. After she had rolled it out he picked up the cookie cutter without being asked and proceeded to cut out another tray full of cookies. They were perfect, regular and round.
The first batch had started to smell good and Elissa checked on them. She felt a presence at her elbow and Sten craned forward to peer into the oven. “Those look like cookies. When can we eat them?”
He had flour on his cheek. Elissa closed the oven and reached to wipe it off and he flinched away from her touch. “You have some flour…”
“I am hardly surprised. You look as though you had been dusted in it.”
Elissa would never understand what possessed her then. She took a pinch of flour and flung it at him. His look was priceless. He blinked, shook his head, and the white flour dusted across his dark skin. He laughed, it was an amazing sound. Elissa’s hair almost stood on end. She joined in and they both laughed and it felt good to just laugh at nothing.
Elissa caught her breath and pulled the cookies out of the oven and slid the second batch in. When she turned around Sten had a finger in his mouth. “They have to cool down, Sten!”
He simply nodded. They stood in silence, a comfortable silence while waiting for the next batch to cook and the first batch to cool. Elissa handed him a cookie and then selected one for herself. She noted that he had waited for her and they both took that first bite of fresh warm cookie together.
“What do you think?” Elissa asked.
“This is a good cookie.”
Elissa grinned. They ate a few more each, not talking, merely chewing and enjoying. Elissa set the rest out to cool properly and cleaned up a little. When she turned around, Sten had eaten about half of what they had baked and looked a little guilty.
“Eat as many as you like, Sten. We may not see any more cookies for a while.”
Sten ate a few more and Elissa just watched him.
There were only two cookies left when he was done and Elissa put them on a plate, thinking to take them up for Alistair.
She picked up the lantern and waited for Sten to leave the kitchen ahead of her and they walked the hallway together.
Her room was upstairs and his was around the back, so she paused to say goodnight.
“Thank you, Sten. I haven’t had so relaxing an evening in quite some time.” She wanted to hug him, but she felt that might be pushing it, so she simply smiled and tried to put as much warmth and friendliness into her expression as she could.
Sten smiled in return. A small smile, as his were, but it reached his eyes. “Perhaps you could give me this cookie recipe. After the battle.”
And the way he said ‘after the battle’ made Elissa feel a sense of hope that maybe they would live to see that day after all.
Modifié par Sisimka, 22 avril 2010 - 06:38 .
#772
Posté 22 avril 2010 - 05:03
flanad
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Cookies??? What a wonderful piece about Sten. I could smell them baking and hear his croaky laugh as I read this. You have a very graceful way of understating emotions while allowing the reader to experience them on their own terms.
I look forward to Juilden and his future adventures as well as any other adventures you have planned. Talent shines through and you are a very bright light. Please keep writing.
I look forward to Juilden and his future adventures as well as any other adventures you have planned. Talent shines through and you are a very bright light. Please keep writing.
#773
Posté 22 avril 2010 - 05:09
Sandtigress
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- 3 967 messages
Oh Sisi, what a cute story! Love it love it love it, Sten has emotions after all!
#774
Posté 22 avril 2010 - 10:10
2pac Shakur
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nice FFs
Modifié par 2pac Shakur, 22 avril 2010 - 10:19 .
#775
Posté 23 avril 2010 - 04:28
FerreusVir
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- 27 messages
Well written Sisi, had me laugh out loud a couple of times.
I await yet another awesomesauce'd FF.
I await yet another awesomesauce'd FF.
