tɦɛ iɳquiรitѳʀ (freemarched) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2016-08-01 17:56:00 |
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Even while Max slept, there was a tension in him that radiated throughout the whole complex muscle map of his body. Lately, it had just been there way - waking up to demons, waking up one-armed, that all contributed. His life had changed, irrevocably. He’d have to get used to the prosthetic limb he had been fitted with and was now wearing, the limb he was learning to do simple mundane tasks with all over again - with the help of a very patient occupational therapist, whom he saw regularly. The loss of a limb, strangely, didn’t hurt the Inquisitor as much of the loss of his faith - not that Trevelyan had been very willing to swallow Andrastian teachings like the gospel, but his family had notoriety and presence within the Chantry. Now, if he ever dreamed again, he knew he would never be able to go back to them. He was resigned to the opinion that, if there was any Maker, his benevolence was something only found in fairytales. And Trevelyan’s own family here, well, they didn’t even know what happened. Perhaps it was better that way. That afternoon, he’d made it to his doctor’s appointment and came home with full intent to catch up on the session notes he needed to do. Using his laptop he could at least take care of that and other administrative things without being in the office, and he’d have to get used to using the metallic fingers on the prosthetic arm to type anyway. Only he fell asleep, was the problem, buried in paperwork on the sofa. His laptop remained open on the coffee table, having gone into standby from lack of use. A dream didn’t jolt him awake but a sharp pain did. He wasn’t supposed to sleep with the artificial arm on - taking it off overnight was better, to let the skin rest and he’d been given proper cleaning and care instructions for it too. But now he could see why sleeping with it wasn’t recommended - it was made of metal, lightweight as it was, and it hurt. Alas, that just mean shuffling to the kitchen for ibuprofen but Andraste’s tits, he did not want to move. “Nasir,” he called, throwing the blanket over his face, because asking for things was embarrassing and Max hated it. Nasir had gotten from the gym not long before and had seen Max asleep on the couch - which he needed, still, Nasir was pretty sure, so he didn’t much want to wake him up. So he’d snuck by and was in the kitchen, drinking a glass of water and contemplating dinner. It was a tossup between heating up some soup, chancing trying to cook, or ordering pizza, and at the moment pizza was winning out. He was just thinking that maybe smoothies would work too, even he couldn’t fuck up a smoothie (probably), when he heard his name being called. Max sounded like he was in pain, which was concerning, and Nasir frowned and headed for the living room? “Yeah?” Max wasn’t bleeding out on the floor or anything, which was good, but he was hiding under the blanket, which was cute. Nasir carefully shifted a few of the piles of paperwork to the coffee table and knelt in front of him, pulling the blanket away from his face. “You’re ridiculous and you’re lucky I think you’re cute.” He pecked Max on the mouth. “What do you need?” "You," Trevelyan mumbled sleepily, looking at Nasir through candy brown eyes at half-mast, a drowsy smile on his face. He reached for his boyfriend, putting the want for miracle over-the-counter painkillers on hold for now - because all of this was a better painkiller anyway. Now it was a matter of getting Nasir to flop with him on the relatively small space on the sofa, but Max was nothing if not determined. His good hand, flesh and blood and warm, curled around the back of the smoothie-maker's (maybe stick with heating the soup?) neck, to attempt to lure him closer. Then Max would just ensnare with all his limbs, including the artificial one. "I fell asleep with the Terminator arm on, it gave me an ache, that's all. How was the gym?" Okay, that was ridiculously soppy and Nasir shouldn’t be as delighted by it as he was. He let Max pull him in for a moment, and gave him a lingering kiss after the confession. “Let me get you some Advil, okay? I’ll be right back, don’t pout at me.” Because he knew that if Max did use the puppy eyes on him he’d be totally helpless. Disentangling himself from Max and heading to find the pills, he returned a few moments later with the bottle in hand and a glass of water for each of them. Fished two pills out of the bottle and gave them to Max. There. Everything in order, he moved the rest of Max’s papers to somewhere they wouldn’t be crushed and flopped down next to him, curling into his side. “Gym was good, didn’t have to kill anyone or fight them as a reminder that they aren’t anything special. Felt good to get my mind off things.” He was still trying to process what had happened in his dreams, the deaths of so many of his friends, the survivor’s guilt. “I’m trying to figure out if pizza would be a good option.” Something about working out always made him crave pizza. Or burritos, but living in general made him crave burritos, so that probably didn’t count. Actually opening a bottle of pills that had a childproof cap (and when the adult only had one functional hand, still getting used to a creepy-looking robotic one) was always an adventure so good thing that had been done. Max swallowed both pills and then gulped the water, until the glass was empty - naps always made him so parched for some reason. Could be why he hardly ever took them, but he hadn’t been sleeping well lately. Maybe his body was just trying to catch up. “Pizza’s always a good option,” he said, shifting a little on the couch so he could reach Nasir’s hair. And drag his fingers through - it was a little slower with the metal fingers, and odd to not be able to feel the texture with them, but that was just something he’d have to get used to as well. He’d already had a lot of practice with one-handed braiding so he’d only use the prosthetic as the backup hand, see, he’s got this. “I bet if you worked out with me next time, I could get your mind off of things,” the Inquisitor added, teasingly, voice still a little thick with sleep. Not to mention the ideas he had in mind for a workout were more fun than punching a bag, but that was merely Trevelyan’s opinion. “It is,” Nasir agreed, leaning into the touch. He always liked Max playing with his hair, even if it was a little strange with the metal fingers. He’d done weirder, though, so it was just a matter of getting used to the sensation. He was sure that Max felt that even more. He had to grin, pressed against Max’s shoulder. “You do do a pretty good job keeping me out of my head when we’re ‘working out’.” And he definitely preferred Max’s methods of distracting him. Fewer bruised knuckles, and not having to leave the house. Double win. “How about we work out and then we can order a pizza when we’re finished?” It sounded like a plan to Nasir, totally could get behind that one. Max had to laugh a little; both arms draped over the front of Nasir, and there was another raspy chuckle that vibrated against skin - because he was close enough to practically take a bite out of his better half’s throat from behind. Not that would, of course - Trevelyan didn’t bite. Too hard, anyway. “Waiting to order pizza is probably a smart idea. I don’t want to be confined to finishing a workout in thirty minutes,” he quipped - but he was being totally serious too, let’s not get it twisted. Taking one’s time for these things was always beneficial, really getting the heart rate to - His train of thought stopped all of a sudden (or rather, he put pause on thinking with the wrong head for the time being) because he maybe just heard what sounded like a very deep, very regal sort of whinny. NEEEEEEEEEIIIIGH Right, okay. And it was coming from the backyard. “I’m not sure I want to know what that was,” he groaned. Normally Nasir wasn’t a huge fan of people being at his back, but there were some situations where he was okay with it. Cuddling was one, and he relaxed against Max and let the ‘predator’ snuggle him. He totally agreed on the thirty minute time limit, which was why he’d suggested it. “I like to take my time, especially with you.” There wasn’t any rush, after all, and it made no sense to manufacture one. He wasn’t into that. He was about to get the show on the road, so to speak, deciding if it would be better to pull his top off or take off his pants first, when he heard...something. Nasir had never spent much time around horses so he didn’t immediately register the noise for what it was; all he knew was that it was something that shouldn’t be in the back yard, and he was instantly on alert. “Stay here,” he told Max, levering himself up and going to investigate (because the mage wouldn’t be of any use, no, but the little man in workout gear could totally defeat whatever the OC had decided to spit out now). Stepping into the back yard was a surreal experience, as what appeared to be a unicorn was standing outside. It was only once it raised its head that the unholy terror of what the thing actually was registered. Leathery skin, prominent protruding bones, a skeletal face, and actual sword through its head… Nasir ran back into the house shrieking in terror without even realizing it, slamming the door behind him and pressing against it in case the thing tried to get inside. Because he could totally take on a horse. Totally. Stay here. Max huffed a laugh because not a chance in hell Nasir, sorry. He was up very soon after, getting to the French patio doors about the same time they were slammed shut. “What was - “ He could see out there, through the glass, and that was when Trevelyan’s dark eyes lit up in recognition. “Oh. It’s the bog unicorn. Not dangerous, I promise.” During his time as the Inquisitor, he’d had a few mounts here and there - necessary, considering that travel was a big part of the job. But for a Necromancer? An undead horse with a sword stuck through its head, eerie and mysterious yet intimidating, was sort of the perfect choice. The doors were opened and Max nudged Nasir, so he’d come look - if he wanted to, that is. And there, past the patio, the bog unicorn stood. Tossing that mane of unnatural, flaming red hair proudly and giving a snort through his nose, as if trying to communicate. “I rode him just about everywhere,” he said, stepping closer to the creature comprised of skin and bones, who should give off the stench of decay, of peat and musty things. But somehow, the bog unicorn didn’t - perhaps that was due to the magic which brought him back to ‘life.’ “Hey boy, how are you? You came all this way, huh?” The stablemaster at Skyhold hadn’t been too disconcerted to properly shoe up an undead horse, luckily, so the bog unicorn was ready to go. Max patted the horse’s neck, combing over the red hair. A chunk of it came off in his hand - but, well. Zombie animal. It happened. Nasir didn’t have the wits about him to tell Max off for not staying put, too freaked out. Max was not nearly freaked out enough, and in fact seemed happy to see the thing. “Not dangerous my fucking ass, Trevelyan, it has a sword in it’s head! Why does everything from your dreams want to fucking stab someone?!” God he hated the dreams. So much. It did seem fitting though, all things considered, Nasir thought as he hesitantly stepped out again, still putting himself in front of Max just in case. He hung back, though, wrapping his arms around himself in discomfort. “You seriously rode that thing? It doesn’t look like it can hold itself up, much less a person.” It really did look fragile, and considering part of it came off in Max’s hand, that opinion seemed to hold some pretty significant weight. Still, it didn’t seem like it was going to immediately start using its stabbing head for anything other than asking for pets, so Nasir cautiously crept forward and, very slowly, rested a hand on its neck, next to Max’s. He twitched his nervous fingers in something like a stroke. The thing felt so weird, and it made him shiver a little. What a weird gift, he had to think. Still better than a slave collar or a stab wound or a missing arm. But still. Weird as fuck. “He won’t hurt you, and he’s hardier than he looks,” Max assured; it was true, the bog unicorn was quite the noble steed and very loyal to the Inquisitor. It was like he could understand being referred to as that thing though, and he gave Nasir a very indignant look, snorting again and watching with eyes pitch black as a gargoyle. “He’s sort of like a spirit horse, just in the flesh - he wants to please whomever he forms an attachment to.” Now, the question remained what to do with him. Max couldn’t very well keep him here, at the house - it wasn’t really suited for horse care, as nice as the backyard was. Keeping good ol’ Boggy in a regular stable might be tricky too - obviously people would ask questions about the sword. “Skyhold has stables, I might move him there but he’d get lonely all by himself,” Max practically cooed at the ruthless-looking beast, petting him fondly. “Maybe someone on the network has space for a horse.” He’d pay them, of course, to feed and shelter a Thedosian creature - granted, Boggy didn’t eat much. Just a few maggot-infested apples on occasion. “Sword in his head,” Nasir said, because he felt that was an important point. Didn’t have to mean to hurt him, just had to be a bit enthusiastic about saying hello. When it gave him a look Nasir did the very adult and mature thing in that situation and hid behind Max. “Let me guess,” he said to Max’s shoulderblade. “He’s formed an attachment to you.” Nasir peered over Max’s shoulder, standing on his tiptoes to see. “Could always get another horse to stay up there with him. Or are you likely to get anything else like him that could keep him company?” It would be nice to get some warning about that one, at least. There was very little doubt that someone in the OC would have the space, there were many varied interests and lifestyles, and they were more likely to not be weirded out by an undead horse than your standard stable owner. Nasir just didn’t know anyone who was into horses. “I’ll keep an eye out,” he said, quickly ducking behind Max again when those frightening black eyes turned toward him. As much as Max had adored the different mounts he’d utilized, the beautiful and stately horses and the various breeds of dracolisks, he hoped that his home didn’t become a whole zoo of them with more appearing. “I had a Basking Longma,” he said thoughtfully. “It was a type of Dracolisk, which is sort of a large lizard that you can ride? Anyway, they’re very spirited - Tevinter tried to breed them, but couldn’t, because of how spirited they are. Stubborn. You’d probably like that one, if it appeared,” added with a fond glance over his shoulder at Nasir. But he’d keep an eye out too, maybe would also make an inquiry on the network. If nothing else, it’d be a way for someone to earn extra money - they didn’t even have to know a lot of about caring for horses. Boggy was pretty self-sufficient. “Alright, you, you’re going to have to wait here until I can find a better place for you,” Trevelyan apologized to the bog unicorn, leading him to what would be a grazing area by the shed, making that clicking sound with his tongue to get him to follow without having to use reins. Which, the horse did, of course. No trouble with that. “And you two be nice to each other. He likes rotten apples, by the way. If you want to feed him a treat.” That was for Nasir’s benefit. At the mention of apples, the horse neighed again, rearing up and then shiny shoes hitting the ground. Yes, give me the noms! “I’d definitely like the lizard a lot more than Night of the Living Horse here.” Nasir had to smile a little up at Max. “Are you implying I’m stubborn and couldn’t be bred? Seems about right.” Nasir stayed behind as Max led the horse over - it was obedient, at least, which was impressive considering every movie involving the undead Nasir had ever seen painted them as mindless and driven only by their hunger for flesh; so far the bog unicorn had shown no desire to take a bite out of either of them. Although at the mention of his favorite treat he reared up and Nasir tensed, ready to go in and drag Max out of the way of those hooves. But he was okay, and Nasir relaxed, a little. “I’ll make a note but I don’t think we have any rotten apples lying around. I’ll be sure to save the next one for him instead of throwing it out.” The bog unicorn was really just a big puppy. A dangerous-looking puppy, a puppy who delighted in attacking enemies and was both a creature of the Fade and of this world, but still a puppy. He enjoyed pets and noms, and was very eager to please. “You’re a good boy, aren’t you?” Trevelyan indulged the horse and stroked his hair some more, his neck again, then down, turning the petting into a bit of scratching. Boggy liked that too; he couldn’t get to those hard-to-reach areas so he stretched a little in order to show where he wanted the itch relieved. Pet me, human! “Good boy,” the Inquisitor fawned all over him and alright, now began the journey to spoil him to death. “Let him sniff your palm, so he knows you,” he added, to Nasir. “Then we can go inside, I promise. I’m not going to sleep out here with him.” “I would break up with you if you slept out here with the horse instead of in bed with me, I’m way cuter,” Nasir told him, still watching the bog unicorn warily. This was officially one of the weirder days of Nasir’s life, and that was saying something. But, nonetheless, he crept forward and carefully held a hand out for the bog unicorn to sniff, ready to snatch it back if it suddenly decided to try out what human flesh tasted like. Maybe it didn’t like the apples as much here as Max thought he did. “Nice horsie, nice horse, don’t bite me,” he mumbled under his breath as the bog unicorn sniffed at his hand, tense and poised to run the entire time. “He won’t bite you. I bet he’ll like you if you give him a chance,” so said Max, in a moment of optimism. Not like he could blame Nasir for thinking this was the weirdest day ever - because it was right up there for Trevelyan as well. “Though yes, you’re infinitely cuter. And a lot better to snuggle with - you can, however, poke me with your sword anytime.” Boggy wasn’t allowed that privilege. Impalement by dead horse just didn’t seem as romantic or sexy, to be honest. But the horse with the sword stuck through its head behaved, merely giving Nasir an experimental sniff to get used to the human smell, then snorted a chuff of air. Mr. Ed talk for you’re alright, I guess. It was a start. “Alright, come on - “ Rather than lavish all the attention on the Thedosian transplant, Max gave his very own boyfriend his fair share, both hands cupping Nasir’s face before he got a big kiss planted on him. “I love you. Pizza’s still on.” It was very likely that the horse and Nasir would like each other - both of them were pretty stubborn, it seemed. It was just jumping over the initial hurdle of being scared shitless of it and being called “a thing”. For now, Nasir was just doing his best not to run screaming back into the house. Horses were big and intimidating to start with and one with a sword through its head was even worse. He glanced at Max out of the corner of his eye with the barest smirk. “I promise the only falling apart under your hands I’ll do will be entire metaphorical.” Nasir allowed himself to be sniffed and shorted at - rude - and then retreated back and out of stomping range, just in case the horse got any ideas. He kissed Max back, enthusiastic, and maybe showing off for the horse a little (which was pathetic, he was aware, but if it was as smart as Max said it was, it would get the message). “Love you too, even if your dreams are weird as fuck. Come on, let’s get back inside.” (If, once Max was safely distracted by something, Nasir snuck into the kitchen and hid an apple somewhere where it would be left to rot in peace, well, that was between him and the horse who would eventually get a tasty little treat. No one else needed to know.) |