"The thirteenth of Harvestmere." He answers that first because it's easier. A hand came up to scratch at the scruff on his chin. "A couple days. I don't think it's lasted more than three."
He shot a playful smile to Alaric, teasing and dishonest for the honest curiosity behind it. "Will you miss me?"
"I will," he answers, honestly and immediately. No shame there, though he does lighten his tone and expression. "And I may starve to death without you if it's longer than three."
He won't, the last part is a joke. He'll miss Anders for the company and man's simple presence, not the practical advantages
He'll also remember that birthday.
"I broke a guard's nose while I was in heat, once."
"Oh? Perhaps I'll leave stores of food in my room and yours for you before I leave, wouldn't want you to suffer too much without me." He was maybe only half joking about that. There was a particular need in the days leading up to his rut when he found himself lingering around the Omegas he was closest to, wanting to protect and care for them more often. He could easily see that little habit turning towards wanting to care for Alaric while he wasn't around.
"Did they deserve it or was this an accident of flailing limbs?"
"I've been called worse." He says with a shrug. There was very little, he suspected, Alaric could call him that he'd mind too much. Not nothing, but very little.
He shifts so he's leaning forward again, legs crossed and his attention more obviously on Alaric instead of the landscape. "Really? Are you always so aggressive in your heats? You tried to get away from me before."
"What you saw was the least aggressive I have ever been." There are all manner of reasons for this, that amount to emotion and trust and, even, instinct on a number of levels that had never been in play before. "I have a very, very hard time staying in my own mind when I am heat. I was trying to protect you. That wasn't... usually my motivation." Usually it was picking up other people's thoughts and feelings about him, and feeling incredibly threatened.
He... is still looking at the landscape. Somewhat avoidantly.
"Really?" On several levels. It made him more concerned for Alaric and what might come if the potion didn't calm him. Would he lash out at Wynne? One of the Templars? A random Alpha who came to close before he'd been sequestered? It put something sharp in him, something that wanted to hover close and growl warnings to any who got close.
It had been long enough, surely, was this really lingering instinct anymore?
He moves the plates back, not too far to be reached, but out of his way so he can scoot forward and take Alaric's hand. Anders brings it up to his own cheek so he can lean into it and push a smile over the concern and sharp feelings in him. "Is it too forward to say I'm touched...and to find the idea of you being aggressively defensive sort of alluring? Maybe unwise here, but in theory it's something I'd likely enjoy seeing."
Maybe proper Alphas were meant to enjoy Omegas who were demure and also proper, but Anders like bite and edge and he liked the light he could imagine coming to Alaric's eyes when angry.
He looks away from the view and to a much more welcome sight - Anders.
He looks at Anders with total confusion, but still looks at him.
His fingers curl lightly around ANders' because he can and he wants to.
"I think my first assessment of you may have been at least a bit correct." Enjoying seeing Alaric being aggressive? Sounds strange. Yet, somehow, Alaric seems relieved. "And no, I do not imagine it will go over well here. I suppose we'll see what people really think of me very quickly. And how good my self-control can be."
His smile turns from act to honest and he nods a bit as if to say 'fair's fair.' He wished he could say people would be understanding or not judge him for it, but there would always be those people. "I'm certain at least one person will call you feral."
He'd received that whisper for weeks after they'd shipped Karl off, his mood near impossible to be around and his ability to give a fuck about how angry he was acting almost non-existent. "Hopefully, they'll only let you off with chores to be done, but I suppose that depends on who you hit if your self control does fray."
Even a templar punched on the eve of a heat might be forgivable with a slap on the wrist...at least, to those hire up. Depending on who the templar or Alpha was...Anders' expression darkens a touch and his smile falls. He brings Alaric's fingers to his lips and holds his gaze as he speaks. "The circle is a prison, Alaric...it's meant to protect mages and protect non-mages from us, but that's rarely how it's used. Your being an Omega: doubly so...if anyone and I mean anyone tries to press their advantage on you, tell me. I trust you to act in your own defense, but some of them will be smart about it and try to blackmail you so there's no proof...tell me, alright? I won't promise time here will be pleasant, but I want to do what I can to make it easier." His smile returned, small and hesitant and apologetic. "Sorry...I know that must seem out of nowhere, but I've seen too many abuses of mages -Alphas and Omegas both- to leave you unwarned. It's not...horribly prevalent here, but I know it still happens."
Interesting, because he doesn't find it insulting at all. In fact, he finds the description just a bit appealing. Certainly it is better than being called domesticated. ...Actually both of those have some good, some bad, and some accuracy in them.
He tightens his fingers around Anders', gently. "I am under no illusions and have no delusions about what the Circle is. In truth, I expected worse, but I suppose that's the nature of having it used as a threat for so long."
He's not promising Anders to tell Anders anything.
He doesn't promise and it doesn't go unnoticed. Anders doesn't press, there's only so much he can do and if this is not something worth promising to Alaric, then what could he even do to convince him?
If it were reversed, he's not sure he would make any promises either. It wasn't like they owed each other anything.
He squeezed Alaric's hand then let it go to start moving the food that remained from Alaric's plate to his own, then swapped them so the more full plate was back between them and the empty one in his lap.
"If you'd been carted off to some other circle, it might have been worse. I hate this place, but I'll be the first to tell you it's one of the better ones, even with the templars who like to drag you out of bed to wake you, or slap you across the face with full gauntlets on, that's all just standard. I've heard far worse from other places." Find happiness in your gilded cage, at least the gilding was still intact here.
Anders blinks, surprised as he looks back over to Alaric and that anger. There's something delightful in that anger and he hates the thrill he feels for it instantly. It was a cruel thing to feel and he quickly untangled it to set aside.
But...would you look at that, Alaric's eyes did glint when he was angry, sharp and cold as steel...
"Well, no one right now." He waves a hand, tone turning blithe, usually it's just because I 'deserve' it, once after I ran away by swimming across the lake, then the second time I ran away because they accused me of charming that noble I mentioned before -I didn't, he just liked my company- and any of the other times, it's been because I was caught kissing someone, once for getting smart with someone who was touchy, and then another time because I was out of my head and making a scene." That one had been a punch and likely meant to knock him out, but it hadn't quite managed. It had stopped his rage, the lightning jumping from his form a threat to mage and templar alike...that one he might have deserved.
He shrugs a shoulder. He also sort of forgave that one, even if he didn't forgive the act that had caused it all in the first place.
"Gregoir did that last one, the rest have been a few. Ser Morris has been...relocated. Ser Parthin can be a little slap happy, depending on the day and mood, as is Ser Rylock. Really, I think it helps her sleep at night. That or she's in love with me, I haven't really decided."
He shakes his head, brow raising. "Just keep from them, they tend to keep their heads down unless you make yourself noticed.
Anders squints as though trying to see what it is that's going on in his friend's head. "Riiiight..." He drawls out, but lets it drop. Mostly
"If you want to have some fun with a templar, there's this newer recruit...not the newest, but he's been here maybe a year. Cullen...I don't think he's into men, but if you go to him and flirt, lean in real close so he can smell you, he turns the most delightful shade of red. Hilarious and easy to tease." He looks down at the plate and picks it up to fiddle with it.
"There's some who are alright, and not just to ease. But three good, a handful bad, and the rest turning a blind eye or helping whoever they respect more is a terrible number."
That is a terrible number and makes Alaric much more determined to make them all at least a little uncomfortable and a handful or so suffer.
He leans in really close to Anders, though, nuzzles at his jaw and then exhales right against his ear. "I want to know what color you turn if I play with the new one."
Anders, typically, prides himself on his ability to flirt and tease and make other people weak in the knees. It's not something he finds himself on the other end of very often.
He shudders and leans into Alaric's presence. "I'd be curious as well...I'm not known for turning colors...but I think you may have a talent for it." He turns his face to kiss Alaric's jaw and fights the urge to lean in for more. "I assume you have some idea of how tempting you are."
He closes his teeth on the delicate shell of Anders' ear and then sits up and back with a smirk. "I know exactly how attractive I am."
And is not above using it but also isn't entirely comfortable with it or within his skin. Separate things, but only barely. "Much as I imagine you know and use how attractive you are, quite often."
He has to take a breath to steady himself or he'll do something foolish, but he sits back with a smirk that turns into a playful grin as he gestures to himself. "Well, of course, why waste the Maker's gifts in vain? It would be a shame not use what He gave me for the betterment of others."
Absolutely something he's been told before...but it wasn't about his looks. Still, if it worked-!
"And I've been bettered already by your good looks, so really, we're both just doing as we ought to."
The tone just makes Anders' grin spread to Cheshire proportions. "Scenary, of course! You're nobility, you know that value of quality environs, my dear Alaric." He waved out at the expanse of now sun-drenched landscape around and below them. "Just look around, this is beautiful, muddy Ferelden Landscape of top quality with only a hint of dog in the air! With you here, however, it goes from beautiful to exquisite."
He shrugs a shoulder, expression utterly remorseful and perfectly performative. "Alas, I don't make the rules, you see, it's just how it is. I see you and my morale is lifted and lungs more full of air made sweeter by your presence."
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He also didn't know what normal for anyone else looked like.
"How long should I expect you to be gone?" A pause and then - "And what is your birthday?" May as well keep punching. He wants to know everything.
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He shot a playful smile to Alaric, teasing and dishonest for the honest curiosity behind it. "Will you miss me?"
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He won't, the last part is a joke. He'll miss Anders for the company and man's simple presence, not the practical advantages
He'll also remember that birthday.
"I broke a guard's nose while I was in heat, once."
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"Did they deserve it or was this an accident of flailing limbs?"
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"It was neither. It was someone getting closer to me than I wanted and me punching them in the face."
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He shifts so he's leaning forward again, legs crossed and his attention more obviously on Alaric instead of the landscape. "Really? Are you always so aggressive in your heats? You tried to get away from me before."
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He... is still looking at the landscape. Somewhat avoidantly.
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It had been long enough, surely, was this really lingering instinct anymore?
He moves the plates back, not too far to be reached, but out of his way so he can scoot forward and take Alaric's hand. Anders brings it up to his own cheek so he can lean into it and push a smile over the concern and sharp feelings in him. "Is it too forward to say I'm touched...and to find the idea of you being aggressively defensive sort of alluring? Maybe unwise here, but in theory it's something I'd likely enjoy seeing."
Maybe proper Alphas were meant to enjoy Omegas who were demure and also proper, but Anders like bite and edge and he liked the light he could imagine coming to Alaric's eyes when angry.
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He looks at Anders with total confusion, but still looks at him.
His fingers curl lightly around ANders' because he can and he wants to.
"I think my first assessment of you may have been at least a bit correct." Enjoying seeing Alaric being aggressive? Sounds strange. Yet, somehow, Alaric seems relieved. "And no, I do not imagine it will go over well here. I suppose we'll see what people really think of me very quickly. And how good my self-control can be."
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He'd received that whisper for weeks after they'd shipped Karl off, his mood near impossible to be around and his ability to give a fuck about how angry he was acting almost non-existent. "Hopefully, they'll only let you off with chores to be done, but I suppose that depends on who you hit if your self control does fray."
Even a templar punched on the eve of a heat might be forgivable with a slap on the wrist...at least, to those hire up. Depending on who the templar or Alpha was...Anders' expression darkens a touch and his smile falls. He brings Alaric's fingers to his lips and holds his gaze as he speaks. "The circle is a prison, Alaric...it's meant to protect mages and protect non-mages from us, but that's rarely how it's used. Your being an Omega: doubly so...if anyone and I mean anyone tries to press their advantage on you, tell me. I trust you to act in your own defense, but some of them will be smart about it and try to blackmail you so there's no proof...tell me, alright? I won't promise time here will be pleasant, but I want to do what I can to make it easier." His smile returned, small and hesitant and apologetic. "Sorry...I know that must seem out of nowhere, but I've seen too many abuses of mages -Alphas and Omegas both- to leave you unwarned. It's not...horribly prevalent here, but I know it still happens."
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Interesting, because he doesn't find it insulting at all. In fact, he finds the description just a bit appealing. Certainly it is better than being called domesticated. ...Actually both of those have some good, some bad, and some accuracy in them.
He tightens his fingers around Anders', gently. "I am under no illusions and have no delusions about what the Circle is. In truth, I expected worse, but I suppose that's the nature of having it used as a threat for so long."
He's not promising Anders to tell Anders anything.
He's kind of an independent dick that way.
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If it were reversed, he's not sure he would make any promises either. It wasn't like they owed each other anything.
He squeezed Alaric's hand then let it go to start moving the food that remained from Alaric's plate to his own, then swapped them so the more full plate was back between them and the empty one in his lap.
"If you'd been carted off to some other circle, it might have been worse. I hate this place, but I'll be the first to tell you it's one of the better ones, even with the templars who like to drag you out of bed to wake you, or slap you across the face with full gauntlets on, that's all just standard. I've heard far worse from other places." Find happiness in your gilded cage, at least the gilding was still intact here.
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He was going to feed it to Anders' but stops.
"Who is slapping you?"
Just instantly angry. Cold anger, but anger.
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But...would you look at that, Alaric's eyes did glint when he was angry, sharp and cold as steel...
"Well, no one right now." He waves a hand, tone turning blithe, usually it's just because I 'deserve' it, once after I ran away by swimming across the lake, then the second time I ran away because they accused me of charming that noble I mentioned before -I didn't, he just liked my company- and any of the other times, it's been because I was caught kissing someone, once for getting smart with someone who was touchy, and then another time because I was out of my head and making a scene." That one had been a punch and likely meant to knock him out, but it hadn't quite managed. It had stopped his rage, the lightning jumping from his form a threat to mage and templar alike...that one he might have deserved.
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Is there going to be a murder? Quite possibly, particularly with the addition of Anders saying that he deserved it.
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"Gregoir did that last one, the rest have been a few. Ser Morris has been...relocated. Ser Parthin can be a little slap happy, depending on the day and mood, as is Ser Rylock. Really, I think it helps her sleep at night. That or she's in love with me, I haven't really decided."
He shakes his head, brow raising. "Just keep from them, they tend to keep their heads down unless you make yourself noticed.
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He would not.
At all.
Oh, maybe outwardly but he'd be looking to learn and then looking for a - physically distanced - opportunity.
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"If you want to have some fun with a templar, there's this newer recruit...not the newest, but he's been here maybe a year. Cullen...I don't think he's into men, but if you go to him and flirt, lean in real close so he can smell you, he turns the most delightful shade of red. Hilarious and easy to tease." He looks down at the plate and picks it up to fiddle with it.
"There's some who are alright, and not just to ease. But three good, a handful bad, and the rest turning a blind eye or helping whoever they respect more is a terrible number."
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He leans in really close to Anders, though, nuzzles at his jaw and then exhales right against his ear. "I want to know what color you turn if I play with the new one."
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He shudders and leans into Alaric's presence. "I'd be curious as well...I'm not known for turning colors...but I think you may have a talent for it." He turns his face to kiss Alaric's jaw and fights the urge to lean in for more. "I assume you have some idea of how tempting you are."
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And is not above using it but also isn't entirely comfortable with it or within his skin. Separate things, but only barely. "Much as I imagine you know and use how attractive you are, quite often."
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Absolutely something he's been told before...but it wasn't about his looks. Still, if it worked-!
"And I've been bettered already by your good looks, so really, we're both just doing as we ought to."
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Well, no, but the outright prissy tone and sharply arched eyebrow imply otherwise.
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He shrugs a shoulder, expression utterly remorseful and perfectly performative. "Alas, I don't make the rules, you see, it's just how it is. I see you and my morale is lifted and lungs more full of air made sweeter by your presence."
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He allows silence to stretch a single beat too long.
Then:
"I will throw you off the ledge."
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