faderift | [OPEN] Peace Bore a Heavy Price

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[OPEN] Peace Bore a Heavy Price

WHO: Everyone
WHAT: Aleron and Nathaniel are hosting an ~~BSG boxing match~~ open sparring session to work out personal griefs within the Inquisition.
WHEN: Drakonis 30, All Day
WHERE: Just outside Camp Shady (aka, the Warden's Camp outside Skyhold)
NOTES: More information, including the rules, can be found here. You do not have to have signed up to participate. Non-combatants can come and just cheer for their favorites or appreciate fine bodies getting physical. Please note in your subject line if you're spectating, healing, or open for fighting.

Just outside the site where the Wardens have established themselves, a space has been cleared. Its boundaries are marked with some wooden posts driven into the ground with loose ropes stretched out between them. A copy of the rules has been nailed to one of the posts. It flaps in the wind, but seems to stay in place with but little fraying as the day wears on:

1. No magic.
2. A volunteer healer will determine whether someone is fit for a bout.
3. Conduct the fight honorably. If someone surrenders the fight, it ends immediately and without question.
4. Don't deliberately incapacitate someone to the point where they won't be able to perform their duties after the fight is over.
5. All weapons must be blunt, even blades.
6. Challenged chooses the method of competition.

At the end of the fight, participants are to consider their issue resolved and move forward.

Off to one side, a basic triage is set up for combatants who have taken their licks. Volunteer healers are present to offer treatment for injuries and to determine who remains fit to fight. Their decision is absolute.

For the spectators, there is ample room to stand around and watch. One of the merchants from the pilgrim's encampment has caught wind of the impromptu event and decided it's a grand time to turn a profit. He's got a cookpot set up and is hawking fine treats like fennec-on-a-stick, druffalo kebabs, and smoked nug legs. He's also selling wooden cups of ale for five coppers, but it's questionable if there's more water or ale. Let the buyer beware.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Anders smirks for a moment before he blinks at the questions.]

What, that was your specific...

[He trails off and then shrugs. Asking anything about that would get a non-answer, because being trained for seduction specifically could only be a painful thing when it comes to the Crows. Zevran won't want to talk about it, much like there are parts of Anders' past he doesn't talk about.]

No. I'd thought all Crows had that as part of their skill-set, what with needing to get close to kill, but I'd not known you'd that as your focus. All the same, you've got the control for making it more or less fair as you'd like by your right to choose the target.

Among other things, yes.

[ Anyone else? He might not have told. But...Anders does not ask, does not judge. To him it doesn't matter.

A strange thing, to know there will be no pity. It is a marvelous change of pace. ]

Mmm. I know. Your Nathaniel. He seems swayed by charming men.

[His Nathaniel. That gets a snort. But, truth be told, he's had quite some time to observe the man and Zevran is indeed trying to give Anders a chance. It's a good choice.]

He's swayed by little save tiny mews when Hero of Purrelden is stuck on the underside of his cot and dangling by claws.

[And by a need for kindness, caring, what is right, and so many things that Anders will not say. Nate is, quite possibly, the best man he knows.]

I saw him earlier, over... there. [Anders points as soon as he spots the man.] Let's go over and explain the prize he's just won, shall we? And then I'll find another tent so I don't wind up stabbed tonight.

If he is swayed by anything, one of us shall find out.

[ Zevran is fairly certain they would be evenly matched in this. Anders for his familiarity, Zevran for his training. He pushes away from the fence and bows, gesturing for Anders to go before him. ]

You explain. I wish to watch the colors his face turns as you speak.

[Anders nods and leads the way, coming over to where Nate's watching what's going on.]

Would you like to be a judge of a challenge?

[His voice is entirely innocent, which, by now, Nate almost definitely knows means something's going on.]

I challenged Zevran to a friendly match. Of seduction. His choice of target. He was kind enough to pick one he thought would be weak to charming men.

[Anders pauses for effect.]

You.

[Nathaniel doesn't turn colors. He watches Anders sidelong as he explains, arms crossed, face neutral. There's a rather long pause at the end of it.]

You're not serious.

[He's not saying that in a "you just had a crazy idea and I'm trying to talk you out of it" way. He is genuinely certain these two men are pulling his leg.]

Terribly serious.

[ Hand to chest, eartips dipped, wholly wide eyed and solemn. ]

[For once, it's fun to be doubted.]

Would I joke about something like-- Don't answer that. Yes. I'm serious, and he's serious.

[The mischief dancing in his eyes fades a little after a moment.]

We'll not press this if you don't want to do it, though. I've no desire to make you uncomfortable.

[Gonna. Just. Squint for a minute. Weighing potential embarrassment against increased morale. It actually sounds kind of fun. And the joke's on them anyway--Nathaniel is not easy to seduce. It's practically a three-way competition.]

No touching below the waist. A draw will not result in a rematch. I am allowed to end it if I grow too uncomfortable.

Fair points, all.

[ He eyes Nathaniel (from the waist up) for a moment (respectfully) before nodding. He could swing his usual skills with such limitations. Not that he is going to immediately leap for the old 'Antivan Massage' trick, but getting to that point? Would be his personal goal.

Nathaniel looked as though he needed one anyway. ]

Anders?

Those work for me as well.

[No ass grabbing, alas, but he can easily work within those rules. He knows the man. He's actually got a decent shot.]

Two things. One, is magic allowed in this one? And should we take turns, a move at a time?

[He glances at Zevran.] Depends. Is magic an advantage you both have?

I have been told my hands are quite magical- but no.

Then no magic.

[And since he's not going to use Zevran's past to gain an advantage, it looks like Anders' skill set will be limited. He sighs.]

Fine. No magic. Even though I am magic. Turns? It would lessen any advantages that come from watching or from the person going first already working Nate up for the second.

Turns with time in between, I should think. To give him time to cool off afterward should things become...heated.

[ Which they might. Zevran knows his skills, after all, and Anders is terribly charming. ]

You're both very optimistic. [He gives a tic of his chin.] Anders, you're first.

I'm first? You mean all I had to do after months and months of flirting was come up with a challenge, and then...

[He shakes his head, smile saying that he's clearly teasing as he closes the distance between them. No touching below the waist means that he leans forward rather than completely crowding Nate. Anders' hand goes to Nate's cheek, thumb rubbing along it as he meets the archer's eyes.]

Is there a reason I shouldn't be optimistic?

[His voice is low and promising, just barely above a whisper.]

I know you, Nate.

[He slides his hand to cup the back of the archer's head as he comes in close... to brush his lips lightly over Nate's cheekbone and not his lips. Direct is not the name of the game here.]

I find you beyond impressive, and you know I mean that.

[Another light touch of lips to cheekbone, higher this time, closer to Nate's ear, and Anders steps back and raises an eyebrow at Zevran. Damn straight Anders is going to use everything he knows. Bring it, Crow.]

[Well, all right. Anders doesn't have any moves Nathaniel hasn't seen, he supposes, but something still makes him blush when his voice goes low like that. But the blush fades fairly quickly when Anders touches him and it...it's not weird. Or uncomfortable. It almost feels familiar. Nathaniel remains stone-still during the near-kiss, the touch of lips against his cheek, the murmur in his ear as if unmoved. He's reminding himself, mentally, that this is all an act. If Anders really wanted him, he would have moved well before now.]

Not bad, [he says lightly.] Personal, but safe. Still, you're just getting warmed up.

Edited 2016-04-12 23:36 (UTC)

Oh ho, he has charms. Who knew?

[ Zevran crackles a soft laugh as Anders steps away, speaking only after Nathaniel seems to have settled himself again. Breaking the spell early- well that would be cheating and this? Is meant to be done in all due fairness. ]

Whenever you are ready, Ser, I shall take my turn.

Go ahead.

[ Zevran does not have the benefit of knowing Nathaniel all that well, nor the benefit of living with the man- but observation counts for a great deal. Closeness, a low pitched voice, a roundabout means of getting to the point. He considers his options for a moment, eye going warm and half lidded as his gaze drags from Nathaniel's feet in a long line to his face.

No touching below the waist- that he can do. But there were no rules about looking. ]

There are marvelous things to be said of longbowmen. Their strength, their endurance- [ He takes a step closer, not quite as deep into Nathaniel's space as Anders had been but close enough to slip a hand out and curl his fingers about Nathaniel's wrist, tugging it up to hold between his hands. Callouses meet callouses as he traces the line of Nate's palm, voice low and intimate and considering. ] The deftness of hand, keenness of eye.

[ Zevran meets Nathaniel's gaze as he lifts his hand, brushing his lips to the thin skin of his inner wrist, breath a wash as he speaks against his pulse. ] And you are a marvel all your own, are you not?

[ He releases Nate's hand with one last soft kiss to his palm before stepping back, posture going from sultry to casual in a heartbeat. ]

[The thing about Zevran is his accent. His accent, aimed at you, makes it impossible not to smile. Even though Nathaniel knows this is all for show, he can't help but consider whether hitting him up afterward might be a lot of fun. It must be part of how he uses his charm. The same accent on anyone else wouldn't necessarily be charming in and of itself.

Still, as he avoids looking at the man, his eyes wind up landing briefly on Anders before he glances away. That's one disadvantage Anders has, perhaps. Zevran has the added benefit of mystery. And yet there's some strange bias Nathaniel feels in Anders' favor, as if he wants Anders to ~~make him forget there's nothing between them~~ nope nope nope forgetting he thought that nope. Fair, unbiased seducery judging.]

Well. First round goes to Zevran. Give me a minute, and I'll give you gentlemen a minute to consider your strategies.

[There's the slightest feeling of jealousy when Zevran kisses Nate, and as it's absolutely ungrounded Anders pushes it away. Especially when he's glanced at, as if to say this is how it's done. Nate's words confirm it, and he sighs. His Nate. Not even close.]

If we're gentlemen, Purrelden's a mabari.

[Anders reaches up to rub a temple, feeling the stirring that comes when Justice wants to make a point. This is a waste of time, yes, but it's not a harmful one, and it's not like there's anything else he could be doing. No one's over in the injured area at the moment save healers. He could be talking, but it's not going to be useful right now because everyone's focused on fights. He'd be more likely to be challenged than anything.

In short, this is a perfectly fine way to spend the afternoon. It is.

As soon as Nate signals that he's ready, Anders' expression goes from amused to intent again. The wrist move was ingenious, but he's not going to copy that. Not quite.]

He talks about longbowmen in general. But I know specifics.

[His hands go to Nate's biceps and travel up, following a path his eyes have taken many times before, massaging the muscles as his gaze flickers between that and Nate's eyes.]

The way you hold your ground.

[He's reached Nate's shoulders now, and he wraps his arms around the man, one hand resting on a shoulderblade while the other goes through Nate's hair and gently urges the man's head back just a little.]

The way you stand strong, confident, in the face of everything.

[He'd started at cheek before, and Anders kisses there again, a continuation, before trailing a line of slow kisses down Nate's jaw to the pulsepoint on his throat.]

Your heart.

[There are some things he won't say, things that aren't fair game here. How Nate's quite possibly the best person he knows. How Anders would be a dozen times dead without him, and might as well be because there's a gap there he'd not noticed until Nate had filled it again. But there are some things that can be said.]

How large it is, how powerful it is.

[He adds tongue to the kiss on the pulsepoint before sucking lightly. No mark will be left, but there's no way Nate will be forgetting it quickly.]

How to make it pound.

[He smiles against the spot briefly before stepping back and glancing over at Zevran. Anders is outmatched, but he's not going to make this easy.]

[Zevran made him smile, but...

Well, he'd ~~wanted Anders to make him forget they weren't together~~ encouraged Anders away from being safe, so here he is getting what he wanted. His eyes cloud, and he finds himself leaning into the embrace. There are warm, dry lips against his skin, and he is caught off-guard by how he feels about it. How much he wants to hold on to Anders and chase these feelings until he finds their source, like tangled strings.

If he didn't look convinced before, he does now, when Anders steps back and Nate feels suddenly cold.

He clears his throat and turns around to rub at his eyes. It's not his eyes that are the worst problem, mind you. There's something else, and it's not just the flames crawling all over his skin.]

Give me a minute, [he says hoarsely, sitting down and breathing deeply. Genlocks. Shrieks. The b-word. The b-word never fails. Whew.

He stands up again.]

All right. Zevran.

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