Chapter Text
Asaaranda Adaar
A sudden drop in pressure against my skull indicated that the last of the demons had fallen. What came next was growing more familiar each time - a hazy, heady experience as the viridescent vibrations above sang out to the palm of my hand. As if having a mind of its own, I felt its desire to connect, to intertwine with that pulsating, rhythmic magic. Then absorb, inhale it in a way that couldn’t possibly be good for me.
All I had to do was cave in and let the Mark fall toward its own idea of down. Allow this body, this inconvenient extension of an essence that would not be contained forever, to withstand the beating waves of force that pounded through me. I wouldn’t call it unpleasant - but it was humbling. Whatever this was, I was merely a third wheel.
The vibrations sharply increased frequency as crackling emerald lightning flared, shuddered, fizzled. Finally, the tear in the air above me clapped shut with overdue thunder that shook my core.
The river’s far more subdued burbles and gurgles offered a pleasant contrast to the offensive din of the rift that slowly faded from my mind.
We lowered our weapons and made our way toward Cassandra, or more specifically toward the pile of demons surrounding her at the edge of Forannan ravine. After catching her breath, the Seeker knelt to wipe her blade on a patch of grass, muttering the milder curses of the faithful. Solas strode past her, appearing almost no worse for wear, but for his faster pace as he inspected the Veil around us.
I dug Minaeve’s dissection kit out from the hip pockets of my belt, unwrapped her scalpel, and began to slice samples out of the otherworldly corpses while Sera retrieved her arrows.
I hovered near the stiffly focused rogue, feeling awkward and obvious but ready to stop caring. This particular battle had been exhausting , and while the others shook off their restless discomfort in their own ways, I selfishly took comfort in her proximity. Despite being mere end-of-the-world fuckbuddies, I found myself relying on her more and more outside of the bedroom.
The way we brushed against each other while exploring new regions. The little kisses of encouragement we blew, kidding-not-kidding, before a skirmish. Leaning in and laughing together while checking for wounds, after some close calls.
My little fuckbuddy was always on edge after fighting demons, but her silence was uncharacteristic - she should be offering Cassandra a better selection of swears, at least. Perhaps she could use a little “wound checking.” I reached out to brush her shoulder… but she dodged my hand.
Jerking an arrow unceremoniously from a despair corpse, Sera glared at me and griped a bit too loudly, "Don't friggin' scare me like that!"
The Seeker stood, raised her eyebrows, and promptly found somewhere else to clean her sword. One glance, and Solas followed. Both tactfully pretending to pay no further attention to the Inquisitor and her flame.
So much for comfort.
I cycled through the possible reasons for Sera to be more jittery than usual.
She almost lost you. Of course I would think that, but not because it was likely. The Red Jenny has lost plenty in her life, and hasn't known me that long.
“The sky is falling and I’ve never fucked a Qunari before,” she had said with playful eyes and refreshing candor. Eyeing her slip of a nimble figure, I realized I had never fucked an elf before, and this quite suddenly seemed a bloody shame.
Thus our “relationship” was defined. Thoughts of anything more were intrusive, and swiftly swept aside.
These were the toughest demons we’ve ever faced. True enough - we all felt it. But much as Sera hated and feared them, she got a thrill from self improvement. Beating tougher shits? She’d normally be the one congratulating the party, even as she shook off her own nerves.
I used scarier magic. Ah. This slid into place as the most likely matter.
"How else can I do my job?" I asked, kneeling and nearly cutting my thumb as I abused the poor scalpel to hack my way through the leathery skin of a terror. Sure , I had used some new spells. They may have looked more frightening, but they worked, didn't they? If not for the upgrades, this fight might have ended me.
The rogue stomped right up to my demon, grabbed the shaft of an arrow buried in its face, and leaned forward to get up in mine.
"NO, stupid. Don't get so close to dead! Don’t be where the demons are - how hard is that?" Still focusing her scowl on me, she yanked at her arrow, but it was stuck in the tough flesh. She tried again, failed, growled, and turned to wiggle it out more carefully.
I wrapped my hand around hers and the shaft, then tugged. The arrow came free as Sera’s scowl deepened.
Stashing away my sample, I considered how I had been surrounded by three terror demons a few minutes ago. They came out of nowhere and I admit, I was not prepared. My new spells had helped, but my melee tactics were still shit - something to improve on.
But all’s well that ends well. The terrors cooked under my fire, and Sera had shot their eyes out with awe-inspiring accuracy.
The testy rogue didn’t need to know what a close call it was though. “What, you thought I couldn't handle a few demons?” I winked at her.
She turned away, looking for more corpses. “Har har, laugh it up Asaar.”
Rising, I followed. “Hey. It's OK, I got this, I got you. One more rift closed, right? We're doing great!” I turned to jog backwards past her, raising an arm to flex a confident bicep, just before tripping and barely catching myself from a tumble.
Her mouth twitched, and for a moment I thought I had given her some comical comfort.
“Sure, it's always great innit? Always just a game, right? Y’can worry about me, but Maker-forbid I worry about you.” I stopped when Sera did, and tried to maintain eye contact, but she turned away, again. “You’da been a goner without me. I got you. But it coulda been different. I coulda shot you.”
“With your aim? Never.” The praise fell flat - it was true, but not what she wanted to hear, and I knew it.
She really was upset that I had nearly died? Okay, why?
Maybe she likes you. I shoved those intrusive thoughts down again.
“The important thing is you glow.” Mmmhmm. Straight from her mouth when we met.
“Thank you for saving me,” I acknowledged. “Obviously you’re right. Gotta be careful - important cargo and all.” My smile fell as I waved my Mark around for emphasis. Her criticisms were valid after a poor performance like that, and considering what was at stake. This hand was more important than I was, when push came to shove - though the reminder made me feel a bit hollow.
“Wha’ever,” she spat, spotting another corpse and heading towards it. “Just do it righ' next time.”
Ouch. I already got the message - this was just cold. Did I deserve that?
No, echoed the walls of my brain.
“Listen, Buttercup.” It only took two strides to catch up to her again - long enough for me to rein in my little spark of frustration. My tone was too harsh, escalatory, so I softened it even as I caught her by the wrist. “The difference is I actually worry about you.” Softer, Asaar. “The real you. Not just what you’re good for.” A gentle delivery might help her believe me.
And I really wanted her to believe me, because it was true.
Sera scoffed, but turned, showing me the liquid gaze of someone barely holding back tears. “Righ’. You’re all high and migh’y sincere, while I'm just foolin’ around.” She looked up, her face directly beneath mine and brimming with mixed emotion. “Stop pu’in’ shit in my head that’s not there!”
“Well then tell me what is there!” It came out before my brain processed that, despite a life filled with death, this little killer was shedding tears at the thought of mine.
This isn't about the Mark.
“Ugh! I just did, di’n't I? ” Sera threw back, radiating heat. But she didn't shake her wrist loose from my grip. If anything, she leaned in closer. “Wot y’need, rose petals on the bed? Sappy shit poems? Bitty lunches packed with food shaped like hearts?” She opened her mouth to say more, but closed it to raise an eyebrow at me instead. "Seriously?"
Shit, was I smiling?
I couldn't suppress it. I really hadn’t thought she might care.
Yes you did, my intrusive thoughts gloated.
Sigh. Noted. My lack of experience with more personal relationships gave me a self-imposed blind spot that I could only resolve with practice.
There was an impatient effervescence in me that didn’t wait on this internal review. It kept smiling, and finally spilled out into a giggle. This part of me didn’t give a flying rat’s ass how badly I’d misjudged things.
This is happening.
Sera’s caught feels.
Sera knows my feels.
Well, fuck me!
“You’ve thought about this a lot,” I teased, expanding my grin as I released the rogue's wrist, only to throw my arms around her. “When were you gonna launch all these new attacks on me?”
Seeing that I was finally picking up what she was laying down, Sera softened. Leaned her face into my…chest. “Yeah, well, yer bloody obvious all the time,” she mumbled, “but y’never say shit. Figgered I could surprise ya with somethin’ cute when we got back.” She looked back up at me and snorted lightly. “Ye’d be way too daft to see it comin’. Large Ladybit swoon, ‘tim-berrr!’ on the bed, and we’d be allll up in each other, more’n ever. But now it’s ruined cuz ye’had to get yerself near-dead , and now we’re fighting…” Sera buried her face into me again.
This was growth... new ground. For both of us, I wagered. I'd had fun before, but this was becoming something more.
I had much to learn, but for now, I could only respond with what I knew best.
“Sera.” I let go of her - she faked a pout immediately - and backed away, just enough to cup my hand around her chin. To make sure she kept her eyes on me. Those eyes sparkled with anticipation, all dark clouds lifted, now that she felt seen and heard. “This is the most. Romantic. Fight that I have ever had.” I dropped my voice into something low and sultry. Leaning down to just above her ear, I breathed, “Prepare yourself.” The little rebel froze. “When we get back, I’m going to leave your room a wreck , and leave you unable to tell up from down.
“Then you’re gonna write me that shit poem.
“Then we’re gonna do it all again. ”
Sera quivered. Pressing her face deeper into my palm, the rogue purred, “Promise?”
…
Sera’s Poem:
Jennies are Red
Adaars are Blue
This poem is SHIT
But I love tofuck you.
[“to fuck” scrawled hastily between two words, as if someone chickened out. Then crossed off, as if finding bravery again.]