Fade Rift: Inbox

[pinprick]

You know what to do.

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[justice_is_blond]

[His breath catches and then there's silence for several moments when Nate concludes.]

Remember this when you can't find any of your socks when we're both back. Any of them. Even if you acquire more.

[pinprick]

Consider it a prelude. A tease. The payoff will come when we are reunited.

[justice_is_blond]

Nate. You tell me to imagine things and then you tell me to wait days and days more? Prelude.

[After several, after the amusement and teasing wears away, he sighs.]

I miss you.

[He's said it a few times now, but this time it's delivered seriously.]

It scares me a little, how much I've grown accustomed to having you around and wanting you around. Just... Stay safe and come back to me.

[pinprick]

[Oh.

Sometimes this is a problem. Anders doesn't immediately say what he means, or what he feels, and Nathaniel finds him so transparent by comparison to nearly everyone else in his life that he doesn't think to ask. Now he feels guilty for going without Anders--probably the reason Anders didn't say anything--and foolish for not seeing this earlier.]

I feel the same, [he assures him softly.] I'm sorry, I'm not...really accustomed to being missed. But I will always, always come back to you. We have a wedding to look forward to, don't we? I'm marrying you. That is proof that I will always come back to you.

[justice_is_blond]

[It's hard for him to admit what he really feels sometimes. Being silly and funny, or being angry and attacking, are both easy. Earnestness and openness aren't, especially when there's fear involved.]

We do.

[Always come back to him. Very few people have made promises to him, and Nate's kept every one he's made. It helps. It helps a great deal.]

I'm, I'm sorry too. I'm not used to people coming back.

[He's very used to missing people and losing them.]

I worry. A lot. Sometimes, I know, it's more than I should. I don't know how to stop worrying, but I trust you and I trust in you.

[And now he's being far too serious for his own comfort for far too long, so he tries to cover it up with a cough and a little laugh, as much of a laugh as he can muster.]

Some people carry flower bouquets. Could I carry three or four cats? For the wedding, I mean.

[pinprick]

[Nathaniel wants to reach across the distance and touch and reassure him. He wants to be able to make him stop worrying through some sort of love-magic that doesn't exist. As if he could love him enough to make him stop hurting--though sometimes, Nathaniel loves Anders enough to make himself stop hurting, even if only for a little while. That really must be actual love-magic.

There's a soft laugh at that.]

Well. We'll at least have the first flowers of spring to crown ourselves with, won't we? Isn't that Ander tradition, or is that not for weddings?

[justice_is_blond]

That is, possibly, the most graceful way I've heard someone say no. You're just afraid I'd pay more attention to the cats than my new husband.

[He wants to see Nate's face as he laughs, the way it crinkles and lights up, but this will do. Nate laughed. That's enough for now.]

We'll wear flower crowns and Purrelden will get to be the only cat at the wedding. I'm certain she'll be very glad about that.

[pinprick]

[Another laugh.] I expect she will. Cats like being the only cat around. Though they don't mind dogs, despite Fereldan legend.

[justice_is_blond]

Just like I'm the only mage for you and I far from mind my Fereldan?

[It's not quite equivalent, but he feels like he can take liberties.]

You're so much better than a dog, though. Even when you put your icy feet on me.

[pinprick]

Hot, wet kisses, stolen as Nathaniel bucks into him, in that heady feeling that they must be completely one now between the kisses and the rutting. Hot and hard and slick and perfect.

His hands glide over smooth thighs before he presses closer, bending knees toward Anders' body as his own slides as deep as possible.

"You are what I want," he groans. "You are all that I want. Every--" a whine "--every last freckle. My dearest darling."

[justice_is_blond]

All. That's what does it for him, bringing his heart and body in full harmony as he arcs back against the welcome press against Nate's body. Anders comes hard, coating both of their stomachs as he moans inarticulately. His hands clench in Nate's hair, body shuddering around and beneath him, eyes drinking in the beautiful sight of Nate above him.

Desperately Anders wishes he could return the sentiment, that Nathaniel is all that he wants. There's guilt to that thought. He wants to see the mages free for good, needs it, just as much as he wants and needs Nathaniel, and he wonders if he'll ever be able to give Nate all of his heart and self the way Nate's given him everything.

"Nate," he finally says, both broken and whole. "My love."

[pinprick]

And you are better than a cat, even when you steal all the blankets.

[pinprick]

Hearing his name spoken like that is almost enough. He keeps moving, careful to keep from hurting Anders--he doesn't need to go hard to reach climax. In a moment or two, he is emptying into Anders, muffling his groans against the expanse of pale throat. He gasps, shudders, and finally withdraws, lowering Anders to the bed and curling against his side, heedless of the mess.

[justice_is_blond]

Anders wraps around Nate as the he comes down before kissing the top of his head. For several moments he simply lets the moment last with them close and warm together. It's so much of what he's always wanted, love and affection and sex, and with someone he admires and adores absolutely. Why can't it be enough? Why can't he be happy with just this?

"I..." He trails off and closes his eyes. "I love you. Having this, having you, is the best thing to happen in my life." The words are quiet; if he said them any louder there might be guilt showing in his voice. Nate deserves better, and Anders can't simply stop striving to be the better, not yet. Maybe in time, though. He wants to do better, and if the Resolutionists start to change, there might be a future in which he doesn't have to worry constantly. ...About mage freedom, at least. They're Grey Wardens. They might not have that much time left.

Anders buries his face against the top of Nate's head, clinging instead of simply holding him.

action.

[byblow]

[ Between disasters/adventures, Alistair comes to stand beside Nathaniel by the fire in the camp, and -- miraculously -- doesn't say anything for a few seconds. He has been broody lately, but usually picking at Nathaniel would make him feel better. Right now it would probably make him feel better, too, actually. But -- ]

I need your advice, [ he finally manages to say. He does not sound happy about it. ]

[pinprick]

[Alistair has been getting some unusual treatment from Nathaniel lately. There has been no insult, no picking of fights, no glowering. A little scowling, maybe, but Nathaniel's expression usually defaults to a scowl. But when he sees Alistair, the scowl softens into something rather more guilty. He's polite to him. There's no sarcasm. He doesn't get baited into squabbles. This is, of course, Nathaniel trying to be nice to Alistair for a long enough period of time for Alistair to sufficiently recover from being farmed for blood. It's awkward.

So instead of trying to scrape up a witty retort, Nathaniel makes a slight face before evening out and bobbing his head.]

What about?

[byblow]

Maric Theirin may be alive.

[ Quickly, casually, like it's a small thing, because he isn't going to have a feeling in front of Nathaniel Howe if he can help it. Even—no, especially a Nathaniel Howe who's been bizarrely polite. If Nathaniel takes too much pity on him he'll have no choice but to throw himself off the waterfall. ]

I don't want the Queen taken off guard if he turns up— [ if he turns up, as he'll clearly just be coming around to ring the bell, and Alistair clearly won't move heaven and earth and find him just to resolve his daddy issues. Clearly. ] —but I don't want to tell her how I know, what with the blood mages and the... me-being-in-Ferelden parts. I don't want to talk to her at all, honestly. I keep hoping she's forgotten I exist.

[pinprick]

[Well. That's something.

Nathaniel considers what he would do if Rendon Howe turned up alive. Not the first time he has done that, because he never saw his father's corpse. He imagines charging off into the night to find him despite all the lies and treachery not only to his country, but to his family. Even so, there is a painful twinge of jealousy. What would Nathaniel give for the mere possibility that his father lived?]

First: a blood mage told you King Maric could be alive? Are you certain this is..legitimate?

[byblow]

[ Alistair shoots him a cross look. ]

She didn't tell me anything. I overheard. Something's—wrong with Theirin blood, and some cackling cultist has a Theirin imprisoned in Tevinter that's starting to get too old for—whatever cackling cultists do with bad blood. And it can't be King Cailan. I watched him burn. [ A pause, a hum. ] I suppose Maric might have been more prolific than anyone knew. Theirins popping out all across the Bannorn, like dandelions.

[ And that's enough of that. He settles back into withdrawn, moody quiet without needing to be told to. ]

But they never found him, did they?

[pinprick]

[Ordinarily, 'something's wrong with Theirin blood' might get a comment. Not now. Nathaniel is silent and grim for a moment.]

No. They didn't. And if he had more than one...dandelion, it's been a well-kept secret. If Eamon didn't know about it, how could a cackling cultist figure it out?

[byblow]

There's always the nose, [ Alistair says, joking again, but so quietly he could just be talking to himself. ]

If he is alive, they would want him back, wouldn't they? He could help her. The royalists would have to shut up.

[pinprick]

[A squint. Nathaniel is suddenly less inclined toward politeness.] You're really going to make it about you not wanting the throne?

[byblow]

[ And a derisive snort. ] I don't need his help staying off the throne. I need your help not looking like I'm trying to cause Her Majesty any trouble. Or did you want me to talk to you about my feelings? I can. It won't take long. I only have two.

[pinprick]

That, I can believe. [Well, there was a brief time of peace. Now everything's back to normal and Nathaniel is kind of relieved about that. He ticks the list off on his fingers:] Indifference, and indulgent self-pity. And what do you think I can do about this? The Queen doesn't want to hear from me either.

[byblow]

[ There's a pause while Alistair tries to muster up the strength to repeat that he needs advice. But no. It was hard enough the first time. ]

Nothing, [ he says instead, shrugging and stepping back. ] Never mind. Good night.

[ His tone makes it sound more like I won't be sorry at all if you fall in the fire. ]