quicksilverfox3 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
quicksilverfox3) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
fandomweekly2019-10-28 09:33 pm
quicksilverfox3) wrote in fandomweekly2019-10-28 09:33 pm
Entry tags:
[#029] Lost But Not Forgotten (DA:I)
Theme Prompt: #029 Ghosts
Title: Lost But Not Forgotten
Fandom: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Rating/Warnings: Everyone/None
Bonus: Yes
Word Count: 1000
“What are they doing?”
Krem twitched, a far cry from the full body flinches he used to do. Sera held no such restraint, her drink sloshing onto the floor, followed by a flurry of curses directed towards the liquid for not staying in the mug rather than Cole. She still edged round the spirit turned human, continuing to grumble under her breath, as if he would suddenly swing at her like a demon.
Cole watched her go, swaying slightly from side to side as she weaved through the crowds back to one of the open casks, a slight frown creasing his face. Small braids littered his hair, soft and curling slightly where it brushed the tops of his shoulders, his normal oversized hat set aside for the moment.
"She likes me but won't say it. Little brother, little brat, fondness and annoyance rolled into one," Cole murmured, swaying slightly on his own feet, a sympathetic mirroring of Sera's own drunken stumbling, the movement only half put on for deniability's sake. He blinked, eyes shifting back into focus, and he turned to look at Krem, smiling softly at him and catching hold of his hand as he swayed.
"Everyone is happy. Happy but sad. A good kind of sad, a healing sort of sad," Cole said, head tilting to one side in confusion as he slipped into Sera's vacated spot. The pair watched the teeming crowds below for a moment, Krem more focused on the sensation of Cole’s hand in his, slightly colder than he expected even after all this time.
The halla shifted in their pens. It was awash of colour, bright pennants and flags littering the rigging of each aravel, carefully lined up against one of Skyhold's towering walls like ships in a port.
Children ran through the crowds, moving in the way only children could, throwing themselves forward with no regard for anything in their way. They were never far from watchful eyes: elves tending cooking pots or the halla; elves sitting on blankets, hands waving as they recounted old stories or newer gossip; some working on crafts, coxing sculptures out of wood scraps, twisting threads into clothing, Skyhold was busy in a way it hadn’t been in years, atmosphere light and hopeful despite the undercurrent of sadness in the way the elves lingered at strange shrines, hands brushing over the vallaslin on their cheeks and brows.
"Lavellan was telling the Boss it's a celebration for their dead," Krem said.
He paused, seeing his own breath fog on the air, something that had terrified him the first time it happened. Stuck in a strange land, with people speaking Common but not quite right, a Qunari - who had rescued him and lost an eye in the process, who found him more binders, who talked to Krem like he was anyone else - leading him to different jobs, and then he thought he was losing his soul. And if that didn't sober a man up, nothing would.
"Can I hug you?" Krem asked, turning his head to catch the look of thoughtfulness pass over Cole's face. It lasted a second, a slight unfocused look to his eyes before a delighted grin replaced it. Krem returned the grin, happiness bubbling in his chest, tugging Cole closer after a further moment of consideration, wrapping an arm around his waist and frowning at the thinness of his shirt. Cole hummed quietly, curling further into Krem, ducking his head to rest it on the shorter man's shoulder.
"Why do they remember them?"
Cole's question was barely louder than a whisper against Krem's neck. Krem glanced down, mind running through all the information at once, a habit that served him well on the battlefield.
Cole was watching a young elf woman standing in front of one of the shrines, a sleeping toddler balanced on one hip, legs dangling free. A man wearing the same markings passed her a handkerchief to wipe her eyes, hovering at her side until she waved him off with a watery laugh and a shake of her head.
Krem was close enough to see the faint freckles littering his cheeks like stars, to feel the slight shivers that ran through him. He could feel the press of Cole's hipbone beneath his hand, less jagged than it had been now that Blackwall kept an eye on what Cole ate, grumbling about Cole's hair and nails with a soft fondness in his voice.
""They remember them because the good memories outweigh the sad. It hurts but it's still a comfort," Krem said.
Cole didn't answer at first, gaze shifting upwards to watch the ravens from Leliana's supply flicker across the moon, shadows blending in with the bats from the mages tower, their faint calls pressing against their ears.
"Are you okay?" Krem asked, Cole's breath soft on his neck, skin a burning brand of ice, "Do you want to go back inside?"
"I- Cole, he was forgotten."
Cole was starting to shake, not from cold but from fear, body so tense against Krem.
"He was left alone in the dark, in the cold, and he was so scared."
"Cole?" Krem's gaze passed over the shifting crowds, searching desperately for the bulk of Bull or Blackwall, the shorter frame of Varric or even Solas, hidden the shadows.
"I'm sorry," Cole said, wriggling in Krem's grip to get one arm free, cupping Krem's face in one freezing hand, "I made you worried, I'm sorry."
"We can remember Cole. Can make him a shrine like the elvhen," Krem said, clasping Cole's hands in his own and bringing them to his lips, breathing on the freezing digits.
"I would like that. I think Cole, I, he would like it too."
"Come on, let's head back inside, or Varric will use me for target practice."
"Varric wouldn't do that," Cole said with a laugh, but moved with Krem, hands held in his, towards the warmth of the tavern to sit amongst friends and remember a boy who died forgotten.
Title: Lost But Not Forgotten
Fandom: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Rating/Warnings: Everyone/None
Bonus: Yes
Word Count: 1000
“What are they doing?”
Krem twitched, a far cry from the full body flinches he used to do. Sera held no such restraint, her drink sloshing onto the floor, followed by a flurry of curses directed towards the liquid for not staying in the mug rather than Cole. She still edged round the spirit turned human, continuing to grumble under her breath, as if he would suddenly swing at her like a demon.
Cole watched her go, swaying slightly from side to side as she weaved through the crowds back to one of the open casks, a slight frown creasing his face. Small braids littered his hair, soft and curling slightly where it brushed the tops of his shoulders, his normal oversized hat set aside for the moment.
"She likes me but won't say it. Little brother, little brat, fondness and annoyance rolled into one," Cole murmured, swaying slightly on his own feet, a sympathetic mirroring of Sera's own drunken stumbling, the movement only half put on for deniability's sake. He blinked, eyes shifting back into focus, and he turned to look at Krem, smiling softly at him and catching hold of his hand as he swayed.
"Everyone is happy. Happy but sad. A good kind of sad, a healing sort of sad," Cole said, head tilting to one side in confusion as he slipped into Sera's vacated spot. The pair watched the teeming crowds below for a moment, Krem more focused on the sensation of Cole’s hand in his, slightly colder than he expected even after all this time.
The halla shifted in their pens. It was awash of colour, bright pennants and flags littering the rigging of each aravel, carefully lined up against one of Skyhold's towering walls like ships in a port.
Children ran through the crowds, moving in the way only children could, throwing themselves forward with no regard for anything in their way. They were never far from watchful eyes: elves tending cooking pots or the halla; elves sitting on blankets, hands waving as they recounted old stories or newer gossip; some working on crafts, coxing sculptures out of wood scraps, twisting threads into clothing, Skyhold was busy in a way it hadn’t been in years, atmosphere light and hopeful despite the undercurrent of sadness in the way the elves lingered at strange shrines, hands brushing over the vallaslin on their cheeks and brows.
"Lavellan was telling the Boss it's a celebration for their dead," Krem said.
He paused, seeing his own breath fog on the air, something that had terrified him the first time it happened. Stuck in a strange land, with people speaking Common but not quite right, a Qunari - who had rescued him and lost an eye in the process, who found him more binders, who talked to Krem like he was anyone else - leading him to different jobs, and then he thought he was losing his soul. And if that didn't sober a man up, nothing would.
"Can I hug you?" Krem asked, turning his head to catch the look of thoughtfulness pass over Cole's face. It lasted a second, a slight unfocused look to his eyes before a delighted grin replaced it. Krem returned the grin, happiness bubbling in his chest, tugging Cole closer after a further moment of consideration, wrapping an arm around his waist and frowning at the thinness of his shirt. Cole hummed quietly, curling further into Krem, ducking his head to rest it on the shorter man's shoulder.
"Why do they remember them?"
Cole's question was barely louder than a whisper against Krem's neck. Krem glanced down, mind running through all the information at once, a habit that served him well on the battlefield.
Cole was watching a young elf woman standing in front of one of the shrines, a sleeping toddler balanced on one hip, legs dangling free. A man wearing the same markings passed her a handkerchief to wipe her eyes, hovering at her side until she waved him off with a watery laugh and a shake of her head.
Krem was close enough to see the faint freckles littering his cheeks like stars, to feel the slight shivers that ran through him. He could feel the press of Cole's hipbone beneath his hand, less jagged than it had been now that Blackwall kept an eye on what Cole ate, grumbling about Cole's hair and nails with a soft fondness in his voice.
""They remember them because the good memories outweigh the sad. It hurts but it's still a comfort," Krem said.
Cole didn't answer at first, gaze shifting upwards to watch the ravens from Leliana's supply flicker across the moon, shadows blending in with the bats from the mages tower, their faint calls pressing against their ears.
"Are you okay?" Krem asked, Cole's breath soft on his neck, skin a burning brand of ice, "Do you want to go back inside?"
"I- Cole, he was forgotten."
Cole was starting to shake, not from cold but from fear, body so tense against Krem.
"He was left alone in the dark, in the cold, and he was so scared."
"Cole?" Krem's gaze passed over the shifting crowds, searching desperately for the bulk of Bull or Blackwall, the shorter frame of Varric or even Solas, hidden the shadows.
"I'm sorry," Cole said, wriggling in Krem's grip to get one arm free, cupping Krem's face in one freezing hand, "I made you worried, I'm sorry."
"We can remember Cole. Can make him a shrine like the elvhen," Krem said, clasping Cole's hands in his own and bringing them to his lips, breathing on the freezing digits.
"I would like that. I think Cole, I, he would like it too."
"Come on, let's head back inside, or Varric will use me for target practice."
"Varric wouldn't do that," Cole said with a laugh, but moved with Krem, hands held in his, towards the warmth of the tavern to sit amongst friends and remember a boy who died forgotten.