He is suddenly so acutely homesick that it hurts. He's too physically and mentally wrung out to entirely hide the way there's something briefly a little fractured in his eyes, or strained in his smile. Didn't stop his grip on Anders' fingers, brief as it was, being a bit too tight, either.
His answer is truthful, but it is also very...edited.
Edited down to the thing he thinks it's most likely that he will be able to do here - to prevent too much reality encroaching on the moment, he supposes.
"I spent a lot of time in the library." Also a lot of time on a horse, or with a sword. "Why do the sisters guilt trip?"
He can see the shift in Alaric's expression and he's sorry for it almost immediately. 'Don't talk about home' was a popular rule in the circle and for good reason. When he'd arrived and refused to talk to anyone, Karl's approach to make him feel welcome hadn't been to blunder into talking about the homestead Anders had left behind. Unfortunately for Alaric, Anders wasn't as good with people as Karl. He was charming, but his solution to stepping on toes usually involved brighter smiles and fancier words to smooth things over.
He catches Alaric's fingers and laces them together while he puts on a playful smile he doesn't feel but carries with fully practiced confidence. "Well you're in luck, my fine ser, you could drown in the books here and only half of them are dry dusty things. I have a way with some of the cooks, we'll have a breakfast whenever you wake, I'll ask a friend to tend the plants, and we'll spend some time lining your abysmal shelf in here with things that are worth your time. Then I'll bribe more cooks to steal some food away to eat on the eleventh floor when that hall lights up at sunset. With any alterations and substitutions you'd like, of course."
Good news, Anders. Whether the rule is to talk about home or not, people are going to be speculating and probably it's going to come up, anyway, and it's not likely to come up pleasantly or kindly.
He'll handle it.
For now, he isn't going to take the reprieve.
"It's all right." He's also going to reassure Anders, squeeze his hand and make sure they keep holding hands. "I think I might like the dusty, boring, books but we can look into them later."
As cruel and kind as the rumor mill would go, there was no doubt Alaric would face plenty who didn't care to have his feelings in mind when they made their rounds, no one was immune.
Just as he isn't immune to a flicker of surprise and then understanding when he's offered reassurance he didn't voice a need for. He would get used to that, in time.
For now, the playfulness turns more earnest as he rolls his eyes dramatically. "Oh, if you must, but don't say I didn't warn you." The playfulness slips into something softer and he squeezes Alaric's hand. "You should really get some sleep, though. You've revitalized me enough and it's been a bit, I could ease your mind a bit, offer some pleasant dreams?"
Though realizing he should stop revitalizing Anders', he does that immediately. "I'll sleep - and you should probably go before morning."
He doesn't want to sleep. He doesn't want to sleep because this is some of the most pleasant to exist time he has, but there's a plan and options for food without crowding and he'll manage.
Or he'll fake it, but either way-
He kisses Anders, soft and brief but not hesitant at all. No shyness there.
Alaric bidding him leave was fine, even expected, but the kiss made it hard. He wanted more of that, the feeling of soft lips and slow exploration in these quiet moments where they could find something close to privacy.
Which is why he should go, it would be far too easy to stay and risk being discovered during the change of the guard.
"Done with me already? Understandable." He doesn't mean it as he slips out of the bed and that feeling of peaceful closeness, but he does lean back over to press another, slower, kiss to Alaric's lips. "Take pleasure in your reprieve, I'll be back before you know it."
There's a certain level of confidence in what he says, the knowledge he could smile and charm and dance the right steps to navigate a situation through charisma. As it's left his mouth and he offers an overdramatic bow, however, he sweeps out of the room without looking back on the off chance the small voice at the back of his mind telling him his presence isn't as welcome to a now-cooler-head is right.
Alaric does manage a couple of hours of sleep after Anders has gone, but not much more than that. He misses the man - the sense of safety and enjoyment of Anders company is dangerous, in and of itself.
When he re-emerges and makes his way toward breakfast he's put together again - down to his hair being neatly tied back.
He goes looking for Anders - and it's early enough to use that extra bit of ability and sixth sense to lead him there.
He's down by the kitchens, not too far from the dining hall itself. He's cleaned up and managed a bit of a doze, his thoughts and feelings too tied up in themselves and his mind fluctuating between taking ten steps back from this feeling growing in him he already knows the shape of and fears, and wanting to run full-tilt to it to keep it close and safe and here this time.
The distraction of putting himself back together so his hair is exactly in place and what kohl he's afforded traces his eyes is nice, it's when he puts on some of his nicer robes that it occurs to him what he'd been aiming for in distraction and a physical step to put his masks and comforts back in place, has accidentally turned into something similar to dressing up for a date. Oh well, he's already here.
When he looks up to see Alaric coming around the corner from where he stands at the doors to the kitchens, it's all worth it and any remaining turmoil over his own foolishness flees. He smiles brightly as he shifts, hip cocking to the side. "Well, you look much more yourself. Lovely. You're just in time, it'll be easier to carry what we can snag if there's more hands."
He wants to say that Anders looks much less himself, albeit attractive, but given how well he realizes his own reasons for being sure his hair is tied back and he looks... put together rather than vulnerable, that would be unkind.
Probably.
"Not a thought that had occurred to me, but true all the same. How much will be convincing and how much will be taking and fleeing?"
"Oh, ninety percent convincing of course, we're only sort of criminals, but anything you snag while the cook's assistants are looking elsewhere will be bonus." He winks and leads them in with a bit of a flourish as they go. His head is held higher, almost imperious, but he moves with a graceful confidence as he sweeps them into the kitchens. There's a small fervor of activity as people cook and chop and prepare food not only for breakfast, but for the rest of the day as well. Anders moves through them towards the center of the room, past boxes of fresh fruit and vegetables and cooling racks of rolls and bran muffins.
Near the center of the room are two people, a human woman and a male elf, one half to his elbows in flour and the other going over a list. "Marena, Kolian, hello and good morning how are my two favorite assistants today? Marena you're looking lovely." Honeyed words and roguish smiles fell on the pair with all the confidence of a man meant to be where he's standing and doing what he's doing, though their twin looks of mixed annoyance and fondness told otherwise.
"Get out, Anders, you're not meant to be here." Kolian scolded from where he was kneading bread, but his expression turned to flushed exasperation when Anders stepped into his space to murmur something quietly to him before turning his attention to the woman who crossed her arms.
"Whatever it is you want, the answer's no, you're trouble and bound to find more for us all if you're not out in the next few minutes."
Anders moved closer to her and took on a perfectly innocent and almost wounded look. "Trouble? Not I, I'm merely trying to show a man a calm and quiet breakfast, surely you could spare a couple plates early. Promise I won't leave them around this time. Please, Marena, we'll be even and you won't have to suffer my flattery again. Until you want to, that is."
He knows what Anders is doing. He can even understand why Anders directed it at him. He isn't so sure it's inherently the best tactic to employ, but he understands.
He also sure it isn't the best tactic to use.
Complicated.
He eventually steps forward with a slightly wan smile. "He's trying to be helpful. I'm meant to be resting today and I would rather not eat than face a full dining room. I promise he'll clear up after himself, and if he doesn't or won't I will."
Marena looks between them both, her expression betraying a bit of sympathy that washes under careful indifference quickly after. She turns and gathers two plates that she moves about and with practiced speed fills them both with cooked meats, breads, fruit, and cheese, then finds a small tray to place the plates on along with silk bags of tea leaves and a small pitcher of water with cups to add to it. As she works, she speaks.
"Don't get caught and, if you are, you stole it, you here me? Also warm the water yourself, I've no time to make you your own tea." She turns and puts the tray into Anders' hands and the pitcher into Alaric's, then leans a bit closer to him to mutter: "Watch yourself, noble-born, you could probably find some better company than this. Less of a headache, too. Now, out of my kitchen, both of you."
Anders, who most certainly pretended he didn't hear what she'd muttered to Alaric, winks and smiles to her. "Until next time, fair lady, thank you." Then lead them back out into the hall.
"No, though I'm not quite certain that you didn't just make it more difficult than necessary." There's no response to what he was told. It isn't a thing he can reply to, but he notes it down and is stubbornly determined not to listen - in part because he was told.
In part because of the noble-born thing.
Which is accurate but...painful and frustrating in turns.
Regardless he has a jug.
"Now let's get out of sight before we are caught and have to make thieves of ourselves." Or, you know, he just does something awful because he's not in the mood to play nice and can.
"I made it more fun." He shot a smirk over Alaric's way, the veneer of collected confidence easing into something less performative and more comfortable as he led them to the lesser used staircase to sneak up.
"You've been here only a short time, soon you'll see that the circle has absolutely everything a man needs to survive: protection, food, shelter, safe beds. It lacks anything a man might need to live, however, minus some break in tedium for study, but even study can be tedious when forced. Your fun and interest and freedom must be taken elsewhere or you really will find yourself melting into psychoses. Some here are able to make a life for themselves they deem happy and healthy, but they're willfully deluded."
He knows he's being hypocritical in saying it when he'd very nearly found a balance that held happiness for himself, something he could have quietly abided by and only kept his derision to darker nights when the walls threatened to suffocate, but that moment of near-peace had been lost and he much preferred to pretend he didn't know what it took to placate him.
"Not that I'm saying flirt with the kitchen staff, only that you'll find some way to entertain yourself as well, you'll have to."
"I am not convinced that what you are doing is entertaining yourself."
Just going to toss that out there, now that they are away from the kitchen and he feels more free to speak - and also now that Anders has made an open claim of that that is.
He is also sure that his freedom is very limited, and knows he will, at some point, have to find something to break the tedium. He just can't quite imagine it right now. In part because he does not hate it here, but also because he is still very much too busy adjusting to get bored.
Trying to adjust.
Maybe he should focus less on that -- but Anders is a good enough diversion and if he doesn't think too hard about what he is going to do, he doesn't have to think too much about what he can't.
"What do you do besides flirt ceaselessly to amuse yourself, then?"
Anders' expression turns curious and almost challenging, as if to say 'no? then what am I doing?' though it doesn't leave his mouth.
"I like to kiss people, sometimes fool around behind that hideous statue of Andraste that takes up the end of a hall...though less so these days, I suppose." He'd kissed a few people and slept with a few others over the last few years, but it had all but stopped for a few exceptions in the last year and a half. Now with his attention on Alaric, he'd largely stopped even that, though it was obviously more to do with being careful. One had to plan these things, after all, or risk being caught. He didn't dislike any of his liaisons, but he didn't like any of them enough to risk that.
"Really, my time is mostly taken with plants, potions, healing, and the occasional venture out of the tower to heal in the local villages. Had to go on a trip to heal a noble once, he was very kind."
"So, following through with your flirting and healing entire villages. How very impressive."
He doesn't sound impressed, he sounds like he's meeting that challenge, though perhaps his flat look - while continuing to walk and carry their tea - has something to do with that.
"What brand of kind was the noble." There's a variety. Explain.
"Are you judging me, Alaric?" There's amusement as much as there's false affront. He's not especially bothered, though it'd be a lie to say he didn't care at all.
As they passed the floor with the cycle wards on them, Anders took a moment to turn to look at him fully, though careful of the tray he still held. "Or are you jealous? I haven't kissed you today, perhaps you miss me."
It shouldn't thrill him: the idea that Alaric might care enough to be jealous, to care who else might have Anders' time and attention, but it did and how fun just the thought was, however mean the teasing. And a far simpler thing than talking about Bann Ferrenly.
"I do miss you. I am not jealous." Not enough energy present for that. "Possibly possessive." Could he blame come down from hormones on that? He doesn't know. Not enough experience with... anything there, much less alphas. "I am also wondering how hard it would be to get into the kitchen elf's pants." Which is contradictory but again, can he blame some sort of hormonal thing?
Alaric was toying with him, he knew this game, he was checking to see if he could get a rise out of Anders. On a better day, he might have been able to simply step away from it and laugh it off or call his friend out on it. Right now, it was a very good thing he had the tray of food, cause he might have simply pushed Alaric to the wall and kiss him then, and not the light kind of kiss he'd been vaguely planning on once they were upstairs.
Instead, he feels a thrill for possessive and then possessiveness of his own at the idea of Alaric laying with Kolian. Though, not as much as if he'd mentioned an Alpha in his musing.
There's no wall, not for each of their burdens, but he shifts his hold enough to take the tray's weight onto his arm so one hand is free. With it, he curls around Alaric's shoulders and grips his fingers firmly into the strands of his hair to turn his head as Anders pulled Alaric close to his side and into a searing kiss. He nearly clacked their teeth together for it, but his tongue dives into Alaric's mouth seeking as much as claiming and willing his scent to go to the other man in a way he wasn't usually comfortable with. It was assertive and possessive in a way he had no right to and some part of him felt bad, a part that would win out soon enough and beg the apology he owed, but the Alpha part of him reveled in it, in staking even this light claim.
When they break for air, he strokes the hair he'd abused in his haste. "Probably not that hard, he likes a pretty face and he has a gentle hand...but I might be a touch possessive myself."
It is likely not only obvious, but painfully obvious, that Alaric has no idea how to respond.
Not to the kiss - the kiss is welcome and fine, and he gets one hand on Anders shoulder and uses the other to support the tray - but to that kind of kiss.
There is a subtle sort of up and down in response. Almost relaxing and melting into it, then turning a little aggressive and applying the edges of his teeth in how he returns it. A soft groan that turns into a similarly soft growl. A back and forth that just isn't quite... settled.
He even half leans into the hand on his hair before straightening up further and moving the tray's weight back more solidly onto both of Anders' arm so he can disengage.
At least his mildly surprised look turning into a soft laugh isn't part of that, even if the tiny bit of unsteadiness is. "Just a bit -- and I'll take both that and the assessemnt under advisement for some future point."
He didn't remember stepping into a perfect world where Alaric would kiss him back like that. Reciprocating he'd been hoping on, but that back and forth...inexperience? A war of desire or reaction? Instinct versus will? He wasn't sure the reason for the feeling of comfort mixed with an edge, like Alaric wasn't sure he wanted to submit or fight, but Anders found he wanted to find out which side would win.
Not today, sadly, but Maker bless him with another chance for a perfect world where he might just find out.
He ducked down to kiss Alaric's shoulder, then bumped it lightly with his own so they could keep moving. "Please do."
The last few flights Anders was silent, lost to thought of the kiss and the man next to him and the fact he really...was feeling that burning edge of a knife in him at even the idea of someone else climbing into Alaric's bed. No, if Alaric wanted to play around that was fine, it was the circle no one had a right to anyone until a mate was decided for you. If a mate was decided for you. Those with particular attributes the Chantry found valuable or those especially prone to submission to the rules often did, he had no doubt they would each be bound to someone eventually for their gifts, if not their ability to listen. Of course, he'd spent years playing the good little boy and still he'd seen the last man he'd cared this much for escorted away to be bound to someone else.
That thought cut deeply and harshly and absolutely terrified him. He shouldn't entertain this.
They made it to the Eleventh floor and the door opened to resplendent color, the stained glass painting the hall with the morning's sunrise.
The cause of the reaction was inexperience, but it was inexperience as it applied to specific sorts of scenarios (alphas, alphas he'd spent heat with) and instincts. He didn't know what side was likely to win, either.
He did know he was playing with fire.
Even if he was distinctly and definitely not looking at the possibility of being bred. He'd submit to a lot (and break a lot of rules) but that... was a bit much.
He followed Anders up the stairs, quietly. He exhaled with an audible sigh of.. relief and pleasure at the quiet and dazzling display of beautiful. "That," he murmurs, "Will never get old." Anders was more beautiful in the sun, too. Which was saying something.
The hall was beautiful and it really wouldn’t ever get old, but he’d seen it before. What he wanted to see was Alaric’s face as the light hit it, that moment of dazzle in his eyes as the light caught them. Maker, he was gorgeous and more so for that moment of relaxation when a bit of weight seemed to fall from his brow. Though, the observation made him laugh.
“Well, then, let’s remedy that.” He lead them down the hall towards the truck window and the finagling it would do to get them and the food out onto the ledge. Food he had to rewarm with magic, but it was easily done.
He is pretty quiet in following. He does his bit to heat the water he's been carrying and making tea, but only once he's torn into some of the bread and had some meat and cheese too does he say anything.
Hunger catching up with him once he had some space to breathe and think and feeling of being even further 'away' is probably not an enormous surprise.
"Are you jealous?" He backs up. "Were you jealous earlier?"
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His answer is truthful, but it is also very...edited.
Edited down to the thing he thinks it's most likely that he will be able to do here - to prevent too much reality encroaching on the moment, he supposes.
"I spent a lot of time in the library." Also a lot of time on a horse, or with a sword. "Why do the sisters guilt trip?"
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He catches Alaric's fingers and laces them together while he puts on a playful smile he doesn't feel but carries with fully practiced confidence. "Well you're in luck, my fine ser, you could drown in the books here and only half of them are dry dusty things. I have a way with some of the cooks, we'll have a breakfast whenever you wake, I'll ask a friend to tend the plants, and we'll spend some time lining your abysmal shelf in here with things that are worth your time. Then I'll bribe more cooks to steal some food away to eat on the eleventh floor when that hall lights up at sunset. With any alterations and substitutions you'd like, of course."
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He'll handle it.
For now, he isn't going to take the reprieve.
"It's all right." He's also going to reassure Anders, squeeze his hand and make sure they keep holding hands. "I think I might like the dusty, boring, books but we can look into them later."
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Just as he isn't immune to a flicker of surprise and then understanding when he's offered reassurance he didn't voice a need for. He would get used to that, in time.
For now, the playfulness turns more earnest as he rolls his eyes dramatically. "Oh, if you must, but don't say I didn't warn you." The playfulness slips into something softer and he squeezes Alaric's hand. "You should really get some sleep, though. You've revitalized me enough and it's been a bit, I could ease your mind a bit, offer some pleasant dreams?"
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Though realizing he should stop revitalizing Anders', he does that immediately. "I'll sleep - and you should probably go before morning."
He doesn't want to sleep. He doesn't want to sleep because this is some of the most pleasant to exist time he has, but there's a plan and options for food without crowding and he'll manage.
Or he'll fake it, but either way-
He kisses Anders, soft and brief but not hesitant at all. No shyness there.
"In fact you should go now."
He doesn't want Anders in trouble.
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Which is why he should go, it would be far too easy to stay and risk being discovered during the change of the guard.
"Done with me already? Understandable." He doesn't mean it as he slips out of the bed and that feeling of peaceful closeness, but he does lean back over to press another, slower, kiss to Alaric's lips. "Take pleasure in your reprieve, I'll be back before you know it."
There's a certain level of confidence in what he says, the knowledge he could smile and charm and dance the right steps to navigate a situation through charisma. As it's left his mouth and he offers an overdramatic bow, however, he sweeps out of the room without looking back on the off chance the small voice at the back of his mind telling him his presence isn't as welcome to a now-cooler-head is right.
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When he re-emerges and makes his way toward breakfast he's put together again - down to his hair being neatly tied back.
He goes looking for Anders - and it's early enough to use that extra bit of ability and sixth sense to lead him there.
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The distraction of putting himself back together so his hair is exactly in place and what kohl he's afforded traces his eyes is nice, it's when he puts on some of his nicer robes that it occurs to him what he'd been aiming for in distraction and a physical step to put his masks and comforts back in place, has accidentally turned into something similar to dressing up for a date. Oh well, he's already here.
When he looks up to see Alaric coming around the corner from where he stands at the doors to the kitchens, it's all worth it and any remaining turmoil over his own foolishness flees. He smiles brightly as he shifts, hip cocking to the side. "Well, you look much more yourself. Lovely. You're just in time, it'll be easier to carry what we can snag if there's more hands."
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Probably.
"Not a thought that had occurred to me, but true all the same. How much will be convincing and how much will be taking and fleeing?"
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Near the center of the room are two people, a human woman and a male elf, one half to his elbows in flour and the other going over a list. "Marena, Kolian, hello and good morning how are my two favorite assistants today? Marena you're looking lovely." Honeyed words and roguish smiles fell on the pair with all the confidence of a man meant to be where he's standing and doing what he's doing, though their twin looks of mixed annoyance and fondness told otherwise.
"Get out, Anders, you're not meant to be here." Kolian scolded from where he was kneading bread, but his expression turned to flushed exasperation when Anders stepped into his space to murmur something quietly to him before turning his attention to the woman who crossed her arms.
"Whatever it is you want, the answer's no, you're trouble and bound to find more for us all if you're not out in the next few minutes."
Anders moved closer to her and took on a perfectly innocent and almost wounded look. "Trouble? Not I, I'm merely trying to show a man a calm and quiet breakfast, surely you could spare a couple plates early. Promise I won't leave them around this time. Please, Marena, we'll be even and you won't have to suffer my flattery again. Until you want to, that is."
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He knows what Anders is doing. He can even understand why Anders directed it at him. He isn't so sure it's inherently the best tactic to employ, but he understands.
He also sure it isn't the best tactic to use.
Complicated.
He eventually steps forward with a slightly wan smile. "He's trying to be helpful. I'm meant to be resting today and I would rather not eat than face a full dining room. I promise he'll clear up after himself, and if he doesn't or won't I will."
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"Don't get caught and, if you are, you stole it, you here me? Also warm the water yourself, I've no time to make you your own tea." She turns and puts the tray into Anders' hands and the pitcher into Alaric's, then leans a bit closer to him to mutter: "Watch yourself, noble-born, you could probably find some better company than this. Less of a headache, too. Now, out of my kitchen, both of you."
Anders, who most certainly pretended he didn't hear what she'd muttered to Alaric, winks and smiles to her. "Until next time, fair lady, thank you." Then lead them back out into the hall.
"See? Not so hard."
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In part because of the noble-born thing.
Which is accurate but...painful and frustrating in turns.
Regardless he has a jug.
"Now let's get out of sight before we are caught and have to make thieves of ourselves." Or, you know, he just does something awful because he's not in the mood to play nice and can.
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"You've been here only a short time, soon you'll see that the circle has absolutely everything a man needs to survive: protection, food, shelter, safe beds. It lacks anything a man might need to live, however, minus some break in tedium for study, but even study can be tedious when forced. Your fun and interest and freedom must be taken elsewhere or you really will find yourself melting into psychoses. Some here are able to make a life for themselves they deem happy and healthy, but they're willfully deluded."
He knows he's being hypocritical in saying it when he'd very nearly found a balance that held happiness for himself, something he could have quietly abided by and only kept his derision to darker nights when the walls threatened to suffocate, but that moment of near-peace had been lost and he much preferred to pretend he didn't know what it took to placate him.
"Not that I'm saying flirt with the kitchen staff, only that you'll find some way to entertain yourself as well, you'll have to."
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Just going to toss that out there, now that they are away from the kitchen and he feels more free to speak - and also now that Anders has made an open claim of that that is.
He is also sure that his freedom is very limited, and knows he will, at some point, have to find something to break the tedium. He just can't quite imagine it right now. In part because he does not hate it here, but also because he is still very much too busy adjusting to get bored.
Trying to adjust.
Maybe he should focus less on that -- but Anders is a good enough diversion and if he doesn't think too hard about what he is going to do, he doesn't have to think too much about what he can't.
"What do you do besides flirt ceaselessly to amuse yourself, then?"
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"I like to kiss people, sometimes fool around behind that hideous statue of Andraste that takes up the end of a hall...though less so these days, I suppose." He'd kissed a few people and slept with a few others over the last few years, but it had all but stopped for a few exceptions in the last year and a half. Now with his attention on Alaric, he'd largely stopped even that, though it was obviously more to do with being careful. One had to plan these things, after all, or risk being caught. He didn't dislike any of his liaisons, but he didn't like any of them enough to risk that.
"Really, my time is mostly taken with plants, potions, healing, and the occasional venture out of the tower to heal in the local villages. Had to go on a trip to heal a noble once, he was very kind."
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He doesn't sound impressed, he sounds like he's meeting that challenge, though perhaps his flat look - while continuing to walk and carry their tea - has something to do with that.
"What brand of kind was the noble." There's a variety. Explain.
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As they passed the floor with the cycle wards on them, Anders took a moment to turn to look at him fully, though careful of the tray he still held. "Or are you jealous? I haven't kissed you today, perhaps you miss me."
It shouldn't thrill him: the idea that Alaric might care enough to be jealous, to care who else might have Anders' time and attention, but it did and how fun just the thought was, however mean the teasing. And a far simpler thing than talking about Bann Ferrenly.
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He needs to learn to lie.
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Instead, he feels a thrill for possessive and then possessiveness of his own at the idea of Alaric laying with Kolian. Though, not as much as if he'd mentioned an Alpha in his musing.
There's no wall, not for each of their burdens, but he shifts his hold enough to take the tray's weight onto his arm so one hand is free. With it, he curls around Alaric's shoulders and grips his fingers firmly into the strands of his hair to turn his head as Anders pulled Alaric close to his side and into a searing kiss. He nearly clacked their teeth together for it, but his tongue dives into Alaric's mouth seeking as much as claiming and willing his scent to go to the other man in a way he wasn't usually comfortable with. It was assertive and possessive in a way he had no right to and some part of him felt bad, a part that would win out soon enough and beg the apology he owed, but the Alpha part of him reveled in it, in staking even this light claim.
When they break for air, he strokes the hair he'd abused in his haste. "Probably not that hard, he likes a pretty face and he has a gentle hand...but I might be a touch possessive myself."
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Not to the kiss - the kiss is welcome and fine, and he gets one hand on Anders shoulder and uses the other to support the tray - but to that kind of kiss.
There is a subtle sort of up and down in response. Almost relaxing and melting into it, then turning a little aggressive and applying the edges of his teeth in how he returns it. A soft groan that turns into a similarly soft growl. A back and forth that just isn't quite... settled.
He even half leans into the hand on his hair before straightening up further and moving the tray's weight back more solidly onto both of Anders' arm so he can disengage.
At least his mildly surprised look turning into a soft laugh isn't part of that, even if the tiny bit of unsteadiness is. "Just a bit -- and I'll take both that and the assessemnt under advisement for some future point."
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Not today, sadly, but Maker bless him with another chance for a perfect world where he might just find out.
He ducked down to kiss Alaric's shoulder, then bumped it lightly with his own so they could keep moving. "Please do."
The last few flights Anders was silent, lost to thought of the kiss and the man next to him and the fact he really...was feeling that burning edge of a knife in him at even the idea of someone else climbing into Alaric's bed. No, if Alaric wanted to play around that was fine, it was the circle no one had a right to anyone until a mate was decided for you. If a mate was decided for you. Those with particular attributes the Chantry found valuable or those especially prone to submission to the rules often did, he had no doubt they would each be bound to someone eventually for their gifts, if not their ability to listen. Of course, he'd spent years playing the good little boy and still he'd seen the last man he'd cared this much for escorted away to be bound to someone else.
That thought cut deeply and harshly and absolutely terrified him. He shouldn't entertain this.
They made it to the Eleventh floor and the door opened to resplendent color, the stained glass painting the hall with the morning's sunrise.
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He did know he was playing with fire.
Even if he was distinctly and definitely not looking at the possibility of being bred. He'd submit to a lot (and break a lot of rules) but that... was a bit much.
He followed Anders up the stairs, quietly. He exhaled with an audible sigh of.. relief and pleasure at the quiet and dazzling display of beautiful. "That," he murmurs, "Will never get old." Anders was more beautiful in the sun, too. Which was saying something.
"And I am suddenly starving."
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“Well, then, let’s remedy that.” He lead them down the hall towards the truck window and the finagling it would do to get them and the food out onto the ledge. Food he had to rewarm with magic, but it was easily done.
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Hunger catching up with him once he had some space to breathe and think and feeling of being even further 'away' is probably not an enormous surprise.
"Are you jealous?" He backs up. "Were you jealous earlier?"
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