faderift | [OPEN] The lovers need to clear the road

WHO: Metaari and YOU!
WHAT: Catch-all for August! But mostly Metaari is blowing up the earth.
WHEN: [ waves hands ]
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: Open log! If you want an individual, unrelated thread, just hmu with the idea! Starting in prose but if you want brackets I'll totally switch.

There are a couple of things that do a really good job of calming Metaari down and clearing his mind. One of those is his routine maintenance on his bow, so routine by now that he can just zone out while doing it. The other is fussing with new explosives. It keeps his mind sharp, ready, his fingers nimble--and also, it is a whole lot of fun. Like, a lot of fun.

He always makes sure to find a space that's far away from any of the encampments that circle Skyhold, just in case something goes wrong. Each new contraption gets packed with a bit of colored powder, just so he can see what kind of explosive radius he gets out of the thing. Today, he's working on something that packs a punch but is easy and fast to get together. Something that he can quickly make in the middle of a fight if he needs to.

Conceptually, it's perfect.

Unfortunately for him, Metaari doesn't have the detonation quite right. He's quite a few yards away when he sets it off--except nothing happens. With a frown he tries it again, and still nothing. Not until he starts taking a few steps toward it. Apparently it had to think about it. The explosion certainly has the oomph he's looking for and then some. Metaari gets knocked off his feet, landing with a loud oof as a giant cloud of red powder shoots off in a circle from the epicenter. When it finally settles he's covered in the stuff, enough that when he stands there's a bit of his shape on the ground where he had landed. Where the explosive itself had been is nothing but a charred circle and, well... a bit of missing ground to go along with it, a nice little crater about a yard across.

"Well... shit."

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Metaari wades through the water back toward his things and begins to dig through his clothes for what he's looking for. He finally finds it, a leather pouch drawn closed, and moves back toward Merrick. There's a sudden nervous air to him, an uncertainty, and he settles back onto a ledge in the water, managing to sit mostly submerged.

"Now... you probably know as much about the Qun as I do, or as anyone does. Like how generally speaking, it's rare for two to ever enter into a serious relationship. My parents did; they even became Tal-Vashoth together, when my mother became pregnant. But there is a... tradition, I suppose. A way to... commit."

He hesitates for a moment before he finally pulls open the pouch to draw one of the objects from it out. The chain isn't delicate by any means, and at the end of it is the half of a large dragon's tooth. "Each person in the commitment wears half of a dragon's tooth. This is from the beast I helped to fell in the Western Approach. The researcher said that we weren't to touch the body once it was down but... well, I couldn't resist. I... Merrick, it... I was hoping that you would accept this. From me. With me."

Merrick moves closer and eyes the object uncertainly. He reaches forward and touches it, fingertips lightly brushing Metaari's palm. He feels his heart clenching tight inside the cage of his ribs, the breath halting in his lungs.

"You mean..." He looks up at Metaari with an almost worried expression, feeling as if he is dangling on the edge of a precipice, a dizzying fall awaiting him.

He watches with stilled breath as Merrick's fingers brush across the halved tooth, his pulse racing. "I want you as mine, Merrick. And more importantly, I want to be yours. Truly. Committed. To each other."

Please say yes please say yes oh by the Maker he's going to throw up if Merrick doesn't say something soon.

It sounds very much like Metaari is asking Merrick to Bond with him-- something Merrick had never considered, had ever even thought about, had always viewed as this thing that was never meant for him. The suddenness of it has him reeling, but the idea of it? The prospect of being with Metaari forever, to be cherished and protected and cared for and to do those things in return? Creators, the answer is easy.

He closes his hand around the object, his expression relaxing. Was it ever going to be anyone other than this man? Merrick is spirited and wild, a maelstrom, and Metaari is a calm and steady sea-- They shouldn't exist together at the same time, and yet here they are, coming together as something unprecedented and undeniably beautiful.

It's never going to be anyone else. Merrick is so sure of that it takes him by surprise, but it slows to contentment and warm, blissful certainty.

His other hand joins in clutching the tooth and he leans in to press a kiss to it. He then looks up at Metaari and smiles.

Shavera, I have found him. And I cannot help but think you guided me here.

It's as though the air itself breaks around him, the earth heaving a deep sigh of relief as Merrick's hands clasp the tooth. Metaari sighs with it and becomes as light as a feather in the same instant. Love practically radiates from him, as though it were trying to become a beacon, and a grin breaks out across his face.

"Yeah?" A laugh leaves him, short and joyful, and he pulls Merrick closer to him again. "Are there any Dalish customs... well, that you would want to follow? I mean I have had a hand in killing a dragon but if you need me to go catch some wild game or something for you I'd be more than happy to."

Merrick wrinkles his nose. "No," he replies, affronted. "I can catch my own game."

Truthfully, there's nothing in Dalish custom that would even permit them. Everything they are goes against the very core of Dalish beliefs, which are all about continuing the bloodline and restoring what once was. Merrick has no desire to conform to this, and he never has. Since birth, he has always been an outsider-- and the Dalish had done nothing but reject and ostracize him, so why should he try to keep their culture in his life?

He doesn't wish to share these thoughts with Metaari, not right now. Instead he examines the tooth once more, and says wryly, "You know I can't wear something this big, right?"

Metaari laughs at that and leans forward, pressing his lips to Merrick's forehead to ease the wrinkles forming there. He was pretty certain the answer was going to be a big fat no to the question anyway, but it was worth asking, just in case.

He pulls back again at the mention of the size of the tooth and he pauses, giving Merrick a blank look for a moment. He... hadn't actually thought of that. It hadn't seemed so big in his hand, or when he had it split... "Ah. That's... a fair point. Maybe it could be sanded down a bit. I'm sure someone could find a use for the powder..."

"No," Merrick says again. "Even if it's whittled down, I want all of it."

He presses close, enjoying the warmth of their skin together. "I can...put it on a cord, pull it tight so it's close against my throat," he mumbles. "It'll be--easier that way, safer."

The tips of his ears flush red.

Metaari grins and brushes his fingers along Merrick's neck, pausing when he gets to the back. Around the throat, huh? That would make sense, and suit Merrick perfectly. "I'll leave that to you, then, so you can get it to a size you're comfortable with."

His palm cradles the back of Merrick's neck, thumb to one side and the rest of his fingers to the other so that he can apply a bit of pressure, just so. "It'll make sure I'm always close, even if I'm away."

[OPEN] The lovers need to clear the road

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