Work Text:
First things first: Antoine had caught himself on fire.
He hadn't noticed, of course. He was too busy analyzing the results (two dead, smoldering hurlocks) and giggling with triumph, the whole scene lending a ghoulish cast to his sweet face. Evka wasn't convinced that the scale of the fire was intentional, but as usual Antoine was not remotely concerned about things going to plan; thankfully, there wasn't much to ignite in the surrounding rocky landscape.
The same could not be said of the lining of Antoine's coat, which had flared up near the hem. Evka reached out to smother the small flame with her glove, smacking her palm against his hip. Antoine jumped at the contact.
"You were on fire," Evka said, pulling her hand away to reveal the slightly charred fabric. "I got it."
"Oh! Merci." Antoine smiled, unfazed. "But did you see it? Effective, no?"
The giant fireball? How could she have missed it? Evka fought a smile, her lips twitching. "As long as the darkspawn are thirty yards away and there are no trees around, sure."
"Well, we're in the right place," Antoine said, beaming. "I will have to keep working on it."
He flicked his eyes back and forth over the scene. Evka had given up on trying to figure out what he was thinking months ago, but where it had once been exhausting, it was now – something else. Endearing? Now, whenever she could tell Antoine's mind was working furiously to cobble together a plan, Evka just found herself excited to see what would happen. It probably wasn't a good sign.
"...do you think?"
Evka blinked. She hadn't heard anything Antoine had said, but he was looking at her expectantly, like he so often did. Wanting her input, even though she typically didn't have much to offer beyond be careful or maybe don't say that in front of the other Wardens. Antoine was wide-eyed and waiting, and Evka frankly just couldn't take it anymore.
She pulled Antoine down by the lapels of his coat, went up on her toes, and kissed him firmly on the mouth, more a statement of purpose than anything else. Antoine's dropped bow hit her ankle as it fell. When she pulled away, both of his hands were up, fingers splayed, hovering in the air on either side of Evka's face.
"Ah!" Antoine blinked a few times. "What was that for?"
Evka waited a moment for something clever to come to her, but nothing did. "Just wanted to do it," she said. "Sorry for being… grabby," she added, but she didn't relinquish her grip on his coat.
"That's fine!" Antoine said brightly. "You just surprised me."
"A good surprise?"
"Very." Antoine had relaxed a little, hands moving to gently touch Evka's wrists, and he was smiling. "I can do better than that. If you – if you still want to."
When she tugged him down again, he went easily, and gave her the kiss she wanted, long and sweet.
And – that was that.
Evka wasn't sure what she'd expected to happen, given the circumstances. As they headed west, they were besieged by strong winds that blasted them with dust and did nothing to relieve the blistering heat. This was the first time they'd been sent out on a mission since arriving at Weisshaupt. They were supposed to investigate rumors of increased darkspawn activity in what was truly the middle of nowhere, and Evka suspected they'd been chosen for it primarily to get rid of Antoine for a while, with Evka serving as his handler, since she'd already proved willing and able.
Antoine had taken to Warden training with his usual enthusiasm, and he was doing well – a quick study in just about everything. Of course, he spent most of his free time digging through the library, pestering any Warden who knew anything about potions, poisons, or explosives for advice, and causing minor incidents with his experiments. But Evka didn't really think that was why so many senior Wardens seemed to dislike him. On the whole, Grey Wardens were a somber, dour sort of people; they expected new recruits to understand the noble severity of their doomed existence and to take on an appropriately grim disposition. Anyone who didn't must be stupid, or naive. A liability.
Antoine wasn't stupid, and he wasn't really naive. Evka knew that now. He understood the gravity of their situation, their thankless duty and inevitable dark fate; he just didn't care. His boundless optimism was intentional. Many of the other Wardens certainly found this suspicious, or at least annoying, but Evka couldn't help but admire it. It was infectious. It certainly contributed to the blooming fondness she'd been trying to suppress since – honestly, the entire time they'd known each other.
Now that Evka had given up on resisting, that feeling was running wild inside her, lighting her up with warmth whenever Antoine so much as looked at her, which was often. As a romantic backdrop, unfortunately, the blasted wasteland left a lot to be desired. They reached a lonely inn the next evening, but they were both so tired and excited to sleep indoors that they retired to their own rooms immediately. Evka didn't even think about it until she woke the next morning, alone, cursing herself for the missed opportunity.
Then they were back on the road. They didn't talk about it. Evka didn't know what to say, anyway; she was much better at acting on her feelings than explaining them. She couldn't think of a way to explain it that didn't make her flush with embarrassment.
She felt a little silly. It wasn't terribly surprising that she'd developed feelings for him, but this wasn't the quick-burning passion that so often appears in the wake of shared near-death experiences; it was something lighter, softer. That kind of feeling seemed incongruous with the life of a Grey Warden – but then again, so did Antoine, and he was doing alright.
And Evka was sure the first time wasn't a fluke. Antoine touched her more than he had before, just casually, tugging on her sleeve or resting his hand lightly between her shoulders. Now, when she caught him watching her, he went bright pink and smiled, like they were sharing a secret, but didn't look away.
It was another couple of days before they came upon a settlement, blissfully free of darkspawn or any other apparent threats, and Evka, filled with a burning sense of purpose, headed straight for the inn and asked for a single room. Antoine lit up with such clear delight it must have been obvious to the innkeeper and anyone else nearby. Evka bit her lip to keep from grinning.
As soon as they'd both stripped off their outer layers, Evka was kissing him again. Antoine laughed as she backed him into the wall and kept laughing against her mouth, and he cupped her face in his hands and gazed at her with something like wonder when she paused for air. Kissing him felt like an indulgence, so nice and so easy Evka felt like she was getting away with something.
She said, "I'm not being presumptuous, am I?"
"Maybe," Antoine said, still smiling, "but I think your presumptions are correct." His voice was light, but Evka had her palms pressed to his chest and could feel his heart hammering against his ribcage.
She didn't want to pull away, but her feet were aching, and she wasn't doing her neck any favors either. She rocked back on her heels and inclined her head toward the bed. "Maybe we should…"
"Good idea," Antoine said. A thoughtful expression passed over his face. "Do you want to take your hair down?"
It hadn't even crossed her mind. After a beat, Antoine added, "It would be more comfortable, no?"
"Sure," Evka said. "But–"
"You don't have to!" Antoine's entire face was pink. "I just thought–"
"No, you're right. I was just–" Evka glanced toward the bed again. "Very focused."
Antoine winced. "Sorry. The mood."
Evka laughed, resting her forehead against his chest for a moment. "Don't worry about the mood. I'm not going anywhere, I've been–" She felt her own face heating, so she turned away to pull her hair brush from her pack.
Antoine didn't press her. Instead, he said, "Let me help."
Evka turned back and smirked at him. "Just so we're clear," she said, "I'm trying to physically drag you to bed with me, and you want to brush my hair?"
"Yes," he said, this time with some conviction.
Well, alright. How could she say no? He was just so earnest. Evka wasn't going to look particularly glamorous with her hair down – she knew precisely the unruly way it would curl, and it needed washing – but she really doubted that argument would have dissuaded him.
Antoine took the brush from her and sat down with her on the bed.
She'd seen him watching her before, braiding her hair in the morning. It wasn’t elaborate – Evka had always leaned towards practicality, at least compared to the complicated braided crowns some noble ladies in Orzammar favored. She had worn her hair the same way every day for a decade. But Antoine found everything fascinating – even her. Perhaps especially her, a thought that was both thrilling and disconcerting.
Antoine was still for a moment, and then he pressed his mouth gently to the nape of her neck. Evka shivered. He pulled one of her braids back over her shoulder and started to undo it. "I like you very much," he said slowly. "I don't want you to misunderstand.”
"I, um." Heat bloomed again in her cheeks. Antoine made it sound so easy. "I like you too.”
"I thought so," Antoine said. Evka didn't have to look at him to know he was grinning. "But it is nice to hear."
He took his time, careful as he pulled loose each braid and brushed out her hair. Evka felt like she was melting from the top down, flooded with a pleasant warmth. As Antoine untwisted the hair at the crown of her hair, he murmured something she didn't understand – obviously not in her limited Orlesian vocabulary.
"What was that?" she asked.
"Nothing important," he said, a sweet lilt to his voice.
She let it go. He was just like she might have expected: always in motion, but thorough, patient when it counted. The work was a reward in itself. Evka admired that, but there were limits to her patience, especially when she'd wanted this for longer than she would care to admit.
"Not that this isn't nice," Evka said, "but I feel like you might be teasing me."
Antoine gasped with considerable drama. "I would never!" He looped his arms around Evka's middle and pulled her closer, her back to his chest, and peppered her neck with little kisses. "You're just in a hurry. Is there somewhere you need to be?"
Evka rolled her eyes, but relaxed against him anyway. It would be days still before they got where they were going. "Not tonight."
"Exactly!" He kissed her on the cheek for emphasis. “How often do we have a whole evening to ourselves? No darkspawn, no mortal peril?”
Evka grimaced. “Don't say that. Mortal peril tends to follow us around.”
“Well, it’ll have to wait,” Antoine said. “I have plans.”
“If you heard someone screaming for help right now,” Evka said, “you wouldn’t stay here with me.”
Antoine was quiet for a moment, then sighed. “No, probably not,” he admitted. “But I would really have to think about it!”
Evka laughed. She'd do the same thing, and they both knew it, but – it would be tempting.
"Anyway, I want to – hm." Antoine's voice had slipped into a lower, more serious register, and he held still as he paused to consider his words. Finally, he said, "You deserve to be treated with care."
Evka snorted. "Like a fancy vase?"
"No!” Antoine huffed. “That’s not what I meant. Not like something fragile, but something – precious. Important."
That was a little much; at least, whatever part of Evka was still capable of reason thought so.
And yet.
Her heart was doing the kind of acrobatics only heard of in the most frivolous romance novels. Maybe she should've flinched at his sincerity, but she didn't doubt that it was real, that he felt it. They both felt the same thing; she was sure of it. Maybe it could be that simple, reason be damned.
It was easy to twist around in his arms, to sit up on her knees and face him. He was frozen with his mouth open in surprise.
“Sorry,” he said. "Are you–"
Evka took his face in her hands and squeezed. "Take off your clothes."
"Right." Antoine nodded once and moved back just far enough to start peeling off his shirt. He was good at following directions when he really wanted to.
Evka watched him, mostly to give him a taste of his own medicine, until he paused with his hands at his waistband and pouted at her – devastatingly effective, as always. She relented, hopped up to undress in an inelegant rush and then crawled into his lap, where he seemed suddenly restless, unsure where to leave his hands.
"You're hard to believe," Antoine said. "You're beautiful."
Evka pushed lightly against Antoine's shoulder and he fell back onto the mattress, obliging. She allowed herself a moment to really look at him, sliding her hands from his stomach to his chest.
Just a few months in the Wardens and he already had scars to show for it. Fewer than she did, certainly, and they were newer, stark against his pale skin. Evka realized with a sharp pang that she could identify them all, could conjure the memory of each injury with perfect clarity. It was a complicated sort of ache. She could blame herself for all of them if she wanted, after all; she hadn't saved him from a horrific death so much as deferred it for a few years. She couldn't have known how much she'd want to protect him, after.
Evka traced the arc of the bite scar on his shoulder. Something must have shown on her face, because Antoine reached up to take her hand, softly brushing his thumb across her knuckles.
"What's on your mind?"
"Nothing, just–" Evka shook her head. "I'm glad you're here."
Antoine smiled, squeezing her hand. "Me too. I'm a very lucky man, I think."
Evka thought about the time she'd known him, all the darkspawn and demons, the rain and dirt and blood. "That's an interesting perspective."
"I'm alive, no? And I have you." He paused, a deeper flush coloring the tips of his ears. "Not that you, I mean–"
"Yes, you've got me," Evka said, as much of a confession as she could manage, and she let herself be pulled down to be kissed, to let the warm glow suffuse her, to forget about the rest of it for a while, easy.