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?"
Anders is less voracious in his eating, but he can hardly blame Alaric, he hadn’t eaten much during his heat and it took a lot of energy, he’d need as much as he could eat.
For his part, he ate a little bit of everything, but slowly and left the majority for his companion. Though food wasn’t enough to save him from difficult questions, apparently.
He considered lying. He considered glossing, anything but the exposed truth, but out here on the ledge everything felt exposed and the truth wasn’t so special in that way. Out here, they could just be them and breathe the morning air as the rest of the tower woke up.
“Yes.” He let that linger a moment and then sighed. “I shouldn’t be, though. I’ve no claim to you and if I- well, Marena wasn’t wrong, you could do with safer company than me, especially if you want to keep your head down. I’m not good at that.”
It was coming off heat, having not eaten much during, and his general aversion to the dining hall and energy burned with near constant shielding. Either way, he was making up for lost time, and getting a conversation out of the way.
"I don't know what I want." Just flat statement, that. "But you don't seem to be doing too badly here, overall." Attracting trouble and breaking rules or not. Also not his current focus. "How much of the jealousy and attachment are real, and how much is... biological drive?"
That was all...very fair, really. He hadn’t been here long enough, he could still decide what he wanted. Maker, Anders had spent a year not talking, and he’s sure there’s some here who now miss those days.
It was fair, too, that he was doing all right for himself. He was, better than most mages. Most other Alpha mages, even. He got to leave, travel, have contacts outside the circle, seek dispensation to go where he needed because he was an Alpha and a healer.
Yet, too, was he too outspoken, too noticed, too dangerous for his truck with spirits...there was plenty of reason his circle of friends was nearly non-existent.
“I don’t know. I know I like you quite a lot. I know you’ve enchanted me, and I know I want to learn more about you. I also know your scent has crept into my head more strongly than anyone, even someone I’d been very close to. I held you in your heat and part of me still feels like my arms are too empty...so perhaps the real answer is that it’s a bit of both.”
He pulled his knee up to his chest as he leaned back and rested his head against the tower wall. “I don’t think I can tell you where the line is.”
He looks at Anders, just a bit surprise and possibly even amused at all of that - but credit where it was due, it was a very honest, very thorough, answer.
He doesn't know that he knows where the line is either, and that's uncomfortable.
He can't come up with any way of sorting it, either, which may be why it's uncomfortable.
He chews and swallows a bite of food and has a drink of tea before he says, not as randomly as it may seem: "Bright lights cast strong shadows." Which could be decent to disappear in, at least sometimes.
Moving on. "How many Omegas have you been with for their heat?" Avoiding 'someone I was close to'. Yes, but only for right now. He knows there's a lot of pain there.
He casts a curious look over to Alaric. He could maybe discern the meaning behind the seemingly cryptic words, but he’s not sure he should. Either he had no idea or he was selfishly right that his shadow was what Alaric intended to hide in. He doubted the rumors would allow that...but he’d come back to that thought.
Especially with this new one in his mind. “How many have I watched over? Quite a few, though they usually call in Wynne for Omegas and me to look after Alphas, but it’s happened before.” He pauses and shakes his head. “Well..no, not that. How we were...I’ve only crawled into bed with a suffering Omega once before while acting as a healer and it wasn’t so sexual, she was a young friend of mine in her first heat and she was scared. Why?”
He pretends not to notice the curious look - because he doesn't want to elaborate, but yeah. If he can hide, he will hide. If he can't, he will start dazzling people with absolute bullshit. Maybe he'll do some of both. He's trying to work it out.
"Because I'm trying to work out cause and effect," he says, with a flash of a grin. "And which came first." He just doesn't know, but he does know that he's comfortable right now and with this man. "How do alphas respond to your presence?"
"Aaah...a researcher. Oh they'll love you." He liked researching fine, but he preferred it when it was his projects and interests. Being asked to take up a project and report his findings chaffed. Mostly just for the asking rather than the work.
"Well, I an assure you my desire to help you had more to do with my liking you than who's an Alpha and who's an Omega. My liking you is what got me into your bed, I don't just crawl into any bed, you know. Especially when I'm being a healer." That, at least, he took seriously.
"As for other Alphas...if there's no Omega around, they're alright. A bit more aggressive and assertive. I need to make sure I don't smell like an Omega when I come in or it can mess with them and make things worse, but it's usually one of three things: aggression, desperate but fine, or sometimes trying to get touchy because they associate the relief I'm giving them with a partner. Most of the time, Alphas and Omegas respond fine to the potions we make, however, so we only go to help those cases that either don't take well to them, are bad in spite of them, or don't get to take the potions in time."
That last bit erradicates anything else Alaric had intended to say or might have said in response to research. He frowns, very faintly. "Which one of those was I?"
That is a fair question, considering the implications of future heats. He shoots a smile over he hopes is supportive. "For now...missed potion. I don't think anyone knew you were so close and stress can certainly play a part. They should be able to get you one next time to ease things...whether or not it'll be effective on you, we'll have to wait to see."
Confusion takes up his expression, as much as the laughter is nice to hear and something he distantly realizes he wants to hear more often...he'd rather know the cause of it. "Two weeks in and the psychosis is spreading, what a shame."
He picked up a stray grape and threw it half-heartedly at Alaric. "Want to share what's so funny?"
Ah...well, alright, still not something he would laugh at, but he could understand a bit more. "Not everyone. The potion isn't even a decade old yet. By all rights, it's new...and, consequently, imperfect, but it's something. How late you're starting it doesn't concern me so much as simple physiology. Some people are allergic to the plant and some simply aren't affected or aren't affected as strongly as needed."
He shrugs a shoulder and grabs more fruit, this time to go in his own mouth rather than as a projectile. "It only works half the time on me, for example. Usually, I just end up extra foggy as well as the rest, but for some people it makes it into a long and unfortunate fever, so it's worth making."
"Well see how it plays out." He still sounds amused, and that has rather a lot to do with how many heats he has had, without it and his expectations of the whole affair. "I do hope it helps, for the record. I'm relatively confident that I am not allergic to anything."
Moving back to incredibly personal questions: "When are you due?"
"If it doesn't take and the next one is as bad, I'll see if they'll let me help you again...if you want." If that was Alaric's 'normal' heat and they'd called him almost immediately, he certainly hoped the potion would at least take the edge off for him. If not, well...
His expression turns back to amused and his brow raises. "You don't pull your punches, do you? Don't even know my birthday, but you want to know about my ruts, how forward." Not that he was actually bothered. "Next month, assuming nothing triggers it early." Travel sometimes, stress from the templars, occasionally, but he could count those occurrences on one hand.
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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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For his part, he ate a little bit of everything, but slowly and left the majority for his companion. Though food wasn’t enough to save him from difficult questions, apparently.
He considered lying. He considered glossing, anything but the exposed truth, but out here on the ledge everything felt exposed and the truth wasn’t so special in that way. Out here, they could just be them and breathe the morning air as the rest of the tower woke up.
“Yes.” He let that linger a moment and then sighed. “I shouldn’t be, though. I’ve no claim to you and if I- well, Marena wasn’t wrong, you could do with safer company than me, especially if you want to keep your head down. I’m not good at that.”
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"I don't know what I want." Just flat statement, that. "But you don't seem to be doing too badly here, overall." Attracting trouble and breaking rules or not. Also not his current focus. "How much of the jealousy and attachment are real, and how much is... biological drive?"
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It was fair, too, that he was doing all right for himself. He was, better than most mages. Most other Alpha mages, even. He got to leave, travel, have contacts outside the circle, seek dispensation to go where he needed because he was an Alpha and a healer.
Yet, too, was he too outspoken, too noticed, too dangerous for his truck with spirits...there was plenty of reason his circle of friends was nearly non-existent.
“I don’t know. I know I like you quite a lot. I know you’ve enchanted me, and I know I want to learn more about you. I also know your scent has crept into my head more strongly than anyone, even someone I’d been very close to. I held you in your heat and part of me still feels like my arms are too empty...so perhaps the real answer is that it’s a bit of both.”
He pulled his knee up to his chest as he leaned back and rested his head against the tower wall. “I don’t think I can tell you where the line is.”
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He doesn't know that he knows where the line is either, and that's uncomfortable.
He can't come up with any way of sorting it, either, which may be why it's uncomfortable.
He chews and swallows a bite of food and has a drink of tea before he says, not as randomly as it may seem: "Bright lights cast strong shadows." Which could be decent to disappear in, at least sometimes.
Moving on. "How many Omegas have you been with for their heat?" Avoiding 'someone I was close to'. Yes, but only for right now. He knows there's a lot of pain there.
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Especially with this new one in his mind. “How many have I watched over? Quite a few, though they usually call in Wynne for Omegas and me to look after Alphas, but it’s happened before.” He pauses and shakes his head. “Well..no, not that. How we were...I’ve only crawled into bed with a suffering Omega once before while acting as a healer and it wasn’t so sexual, she was a young friend of mine in her first heat and she was scared. Why?”
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"Because I'm trying to work out cause and effect," he says, with a flash of a grin. "And which came first." He just doesn't know, but he does know that he's comfortable right now and with this man. "How do alphas respond to your presence?"
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"Well, I an assure you my desire to help you had more to do with my liking you than who's an Alpha and who's an Omega. My liking you is what got me into your bed, I don't just crawl into any bed, you know. Especially when I'm being a healer." That, at least, he took seriously.
"As for other Alphas...if there's no Omega around, they're alright. A bit more aggressive and assertive. I need to make sure I don't smell like an Omega when I come in or it can mess with them and make things worse, but it's usually one of three things: aggression, desperate but fine, or sometimes trying to get touchy because they associate the relief I'm giving them with a partner. Most of the time, Alphas and Omegas respond fine to the potions we make, however, so we only go to help those cases that either don't take well to them, are bad in spite of them, or don't get to take the potions in time."
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That last bit erradicates anything else Alaric had intended to say or might have said in response to research. He frowns, very faintly. "Which one of those was I?"
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"Oh, we will certainly see."
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He picked up a stray grape and threw it half-heartedly at Alaric. "Want to share what's so funny?"
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He does stop laughing, though and he certainly answers.
"I was not brought here as a child. Everyone here has had their cycle treated with potions from the time they presented, I assume."
He... has not.
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He shrugs a shoulder and grabs more fruit, this time to go in his own mouth rather than as a projectile. "It only works half the time on me, for example. Usually, I just end up extra foggy as well as the rest, but for some people it makes it into a long and unfortunate fever, so it's worth making."
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Moving back to incredibly personal questions: "When are you due?"
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His expression turns back to amused and his brow raises. "You don't pull your punches, do you? Don't even know my birthday, but you want to know about my ruts, how forward." Not that he was actually bothered. "Next month, assuming nothing triggers it early." Travel sometimes, stress from the templars, occasionally, but he could count those occurrences on one hand.
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