Work Text:
Looking at the happy men in front of him, Alistair felt like an idiot.
He had broken up with Daylen for being a mage and a man, meaning they couldn’t continue the Theirin bloodline, but now he was sitting with Prince Sebastian Vael who not only married a man, but married an elf!
Sure his husband wasn’t a mage, but if anything an elf was even more controversial in the world of nobility.
“I really admire what you’ve done,” Alistair told him. “Starkhaven has become somewhat revolutionary. Elves are being treated equally to humans, and I’ve heard you’ve improved conditions among the poor exponentially, while exposing the corruption and cruelty from certain nobles and punishing it appropriately. Your city has become incredibly progressive for you to have not received any backlash in all of this.”
The man sitting across from him laughed and his stoic husband even managed a smile while watching him.
“You are too kind, King Alistair,” Sebastian shook his head fondly. “But I have received countless death threats and assassination attempts. I have just avoided them all.”
Just after he finished speaking, a servant came in to deliver a tray of tea and cakes. Sebastian smiled and thanked the servant, and Fenris took a cup of tea, smelling it before taking a small sip, completely unfazed.
Alistair was glad the tea hadn’t arrived sooner, or he might have spat it all out. ‘Countless death threats and assassination attempts?’ Was he joking? He didn’t look like he was joking…
It seemed bizarre for such a mild mannered man like Sebastian to have countless people trying to kill him, and almost unimaginable that he had avoided them all. Alistair had really only had assassins hired to kill him once, and he wasn’t so sure it would have gone as well as it did if Daylen hadn’t been there.
Nervously, and trying not to look like he was as caught off guard as he was, Alistair took a cup of tea for himself and sipped it awkwardly.
But Sebastian just smiled and offered his husband a bite of cake. He chewed it for a moment before shaking his head.
“The cake is poisoned.”
That time Alistair did spit out his tea.
He managed not to spit it everywhere, but had to grab a napkin to clean off the tea dripping down his chin. The prince gave him a short, confused look, before looking back to his husband and realizing the reason for Alistair’s reaction.
“Oh don’t worry,” Sebastian assured him, “Fenris is immune to most poisons.”
“Slaves have to work up immunities to poisons found in foods so they can taste them for their master and not die.” Funnily enough, Fenris’ explanation didn’t do much to assure Alistair, especially when he frowned and took a second bite. “I don’t mind tasting food for Sebastian though, it means that I can keep him from trying to speak to me with fish breath. Anyways, whoever did this must not know much about poisons. I can taste the herb they used, it’s one from Seheron. But the poisonous aspect of it is neutralized at high temperatures, so baking it into a cake makes it harmless. Still though, I don’t think that you should eat it.”
“You can’t just say that after taking a second bite!” Sebastian took his husband’s hand to feed himself the next bite on the fork. He made a thoughtful noise while chewing and then swallowed. “You’re right, the flavor is strange.”
“I told you,” Fenris shrugged, taking another bite of the cake. “In Seheron that herb is occasionally used by the natives to season meat before it is cooked. It’s strange to have in a cake, which is why I assumed that it was meant to be used as a poison, not as flavoring.”
“You seem to like it, though,” Sebastian observed with a fond smile.
“It’s nostalgic, I suppose,” Fenris conceded. “But I should go and find out what idiot did this. Unless you need me to stay, of course.”
Sebastian shook his head and pressed a kiss to Fenris’s cheek. “No, I’ll be fine. But do remember love, we don’t torture or make any empty threats, so no sticking your hand in someone’s chest unless you intend on ripping something out.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Fenris stood up and stretched before walking out.
After dreamily watching his husband leave, Sebastian turned back to Alistair. “Fenris has grown fond of investigating these things. He’s very smart, so it’s a nice challenge for him.”
Maker’s breath, the Prince of Starkhaven was talking about hunting down assassins as if it was some enrichment game for his pet dog!
Alistair wanted to go home to Ferelden. The people in the Free Marches were far more scary than he had imagined.