aggregiopavali (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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faderift2016-04-06 08:57 pm
aggregiopavali) wrote in faderift2016-04-06 08:57 pm
Entry tags:
Try something new, they said...
WHO: Fenris and you
WHAT: Someone wants to better himself. Or something.
WHEN: Early Cloudreach
WHERE: Around Skyhold. Isolated corners. The tavern (there's a surprise)
NOTES: Probably a warning from swearing in Tevene. It's Fenris.
WHAT: Someone wants to better himself. Or something.
WHEN: Early Cloudreach
WHERE: Around Skyhold. Isolated corners. The tavern (there's a surprise)
NOTES: Probably a warning from swearing in Tevene. It's Fenris.
He tried looking at it every which way he could, but it made no sense. Well. It made sense to someone, he was sure, but not him. The book that was in front of him was being studiously ignored to make way for something more useful - alcohol.
He was feeling the lack of being able to read. He knew that as many could read as couldn't, but all of his friends round about could - and when he was out in the field, it would be useful to be able to read slaver's ledgers to be able to find out just where they had been - and where they were going next. But how did you even go about that.
Preposterous. He shouldn't even have thought of it. With a sigh he finished his drink and stood up, looking around, and thought about leaving the book behind, but tucking it under his arm. Maybe he would ask Zevran to help him.
Still. He was mellow as he walked through Skyhold at least. Alcohol had a tendency to do that to you.
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This was a very risky state of affairs (not just for Hiccup but for everyone in his immediate vicinity as well) because when Hiccup got bored he got chatty. Why chatty? Even Hiccup wasn't entirely certain about that; he was terrible at conversation, even (especially) with people he already knew. And yet, for some reason, that was his first go-to when he was trying to entertain himself.
It was the Inquisition's fault that he was bored (sort of). They wouldn't let him join the army and they kept shooing him out of the forge, so he was left entirely to his own devices. The lowlander bartender wouldn't even serve him mead--of all the things to refuse him! He was an Avvar, of course he was old enough to drink! So, there he was, in the bar, nursing what appeared to be a stein of apple juice, while he listlessly stared at everything around him.
He stared at the soldiers--they wouldn't chat with him when they were on duty, he doubted they'd changed their minds since then. He stared at the bartender--who glared back. Rude. He even stared at the mercenaries--and no thank you, he knew exactly how well he got on with loud huge people who could lift druffalo. That was basically every family reunion for him. Pass.
Finally, in a move that was largely consistent with his perpetually terrible luck, he ended up staring at the elf with the silver tattoos.
Hiccup knew very little about elves. They were small (Bigger than him, but what wasn't?), they had tattoos, and they generally disliked Orlesians and templars about as much as the Avvar did. That wasn't a great starting point for conversation but, considering how the guy was glowering at the closed book in front of him and then taking a pull of wine, Hiccup felt they might have something in common.
Hiccup was also frequently disgusted by literature.
"Yeah, books," Hiccup said as he swaggered (in an awkward way that was vaguely reminiscent of a fawn attempting to portray a bear) to Fenris's table and, without invitation, dropped himself into the seat across from him. Fenris was just a touch taller than him but a little more than two of him in density. Hiccup took a manly gulp of his non-alcoholic beverage and cast an equally disparaging look at the...unmarked black book.
Right, so no analytical conversations about content then.
"Terrible."
His eloquent review was somewhat less impactful than he'd hoped. He cleared his throat and then, in a last ditch attempt to start up conversation, said:
"I mean, hey, why read books when you can just kill the things books tell you about?"
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At least until he lurched over to him. Fenris glanced around desperately, seeing if there was someone close by that he missed that the boy was here to see. No. It was him.
Maker save them all. "You often kill things that books tell you about?" he asked, an eyebrow raised as he tried to work out his best route of escape.
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Before he could even pause to reinforce his poor excuse for a facade, he tumbled straight into the next sentence.
"I mean, they try to kill me, mostly, but if I'm not wearing something flammable that day, I figure it's only fair to try to kill them right back? Right? I haven't succeeded but they are pretty big and--well, not that I'm small--" He scoffed, as though the very idea were ridiculous. "--but you know how it is. Things that are too big are hard to...hit? Sometimes."
Hiccup took a drink off his mug and, in a continually impressive display of just how much tact he lacked, motioned vaguely to all of Fenris.
"You look like you kill things. I mean...not right now, but in general. Generally kill things. Things that deserve it, not just, you know, people or small animals. That would be weird...er...unless you do that, that is."
In which case he had made a huge mistake.
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"I look like I kill things? If not people or small animals, what do you think I kill?" Because he'd killed a lot of people over the years, one way or another. Annoying boys who didn't know when to back off were high on his list at the moment.
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"That sort of thing?" Hiccup concluded and his attention settled back on the elf across from him. Impressively, it only took him a few moments to realize this conversation was rapidly failing. In an effort that was truly telling, about Hiccup and his luck in general, he attempted to change the subject.
"Er..unless you don't...kill things...that books tell you about?" Hiccup supplied, lamely and immediately attempted to redirect the conversation. "So, good book? I don't read as much as I probably should--what with the...killing things, you know--but everybody likes a good read now and again, am I right?"
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"I kill slavers. And Abominations. And people who get in my way and annoy me." There was a hint in here, one he really hoped that Hiccup picked up and noted. It would be messy to have to hurt him in tavern, after all. Would take a while to clean up.
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"So, not a good book then, right," Hiccup noted quickly and that wooden laugh repeated. He took a long drink off his mug and scrambled to find a better topic to chat about. He didn't really get what abominations were, and slavers...eh, he had a passing knowledge of slayers. In that he knew the word 'slave' existed and, as such, someone must be going around and doing the 'enslaving' but that was all he had ever picked up on the subject.
Without anything to use as a jumping off point, Hiccup looked at Fenris and went with the next best (worst) option, conversationally speaking:
"Uh...nice tattoos? Are they supposed to be bones? Because they sort of look like a dragon skeleton--it's very manly. Intimidating--I wanted to get something like that but, well, you know how it is. Choosing one and where to put it is basically torture."
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However, it wasn't happening with this... child.
Of all the topics to pick, his tattoos was possibly the worst. No, second worst, as worse would be slavery. But this was a close second. Fenris growled deep in his throat, as feral a noise as he could make, and he activated his tattoos, flaring them brightly. "You want to know what they can do?" he said, standing up and looming over Hiccup - an impressively achievement for an elf.
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"Y--No?"
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Normally, this might be where she clocks the guy, but Fenris was cute, and also, those tattoos were pretty neat. And possibly kinda scary.
"I've got some, too, you know--Some you can see now. Some you can see later, if you want." She winks at Fenris, reaching behind her to put a hand on Hiccup's head. "But not in front of the kid! I hope he wasn't bothering you? Ah, you know how kids are, trying to dodge training and bothering attractive, strapping men like yourself." And now with the eyebrow wiggling, even as she's starting to shove Hiccup off, away from the angry elf. "I take responsibility for whatever fuss he's been raising, and if you want to discuss that privately, maybe arrange some kind of compensation, I'm sure we can...put our heads together."
And even as she's hitting on Fenris, she's still prodding Hiccup off. And who says you can't multitask.
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Her unashamed flirting might just have brought a faint hint of a smile to Fenris' face.
"Not like these," he pointed out. "But keep him out of my sight. He's... annoying me."
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With Kaisa's hand first, patronizingly on his head and then, very shortly after, mashing blindly into the side of his face to try and shove him off, Hiccup forgot all about his own impending doom. He flailed a bit, trying to push her hand away, but she was stronger than him and very insistent.
"Are you actually interrupting to proposition him?" Hiccup squawked incredulously.
"I was having a conversation!" He protested loudly, but in a way that was eminently easy to ignore.
Kaisa was, unsurprisingly, good at getting a grip on Hiccup. Not metaphorically, physically--she managed to get her fingers into his vest, fisted them, and then used her grip to shove/toss him toward the door. He huffed, indignantly, and bristled like an offended cat as he straightened his vest.
"Rude."
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