"You do choose to have cats as pets," he says, dryly, on the subject of how endearing someone focused stubbornly on the 'wrong' place was.
He was happy to move away from the couch, found the rhythm and followed it well enough now that he understood. He was a little less confident in just following instructions but the trail of Anders' fingers was good, and the pull and spin back into Anders--
Made him laugh aloud again as he settled his free hand on Anders' chest. This was fun.
Andraste Herself wouldn't sound so sweet to him as that laugh, even were she to step from the Maker's side to sing specifically to Anders. Alaric's smile was starlight on a dark and otherwise lonely night, bright and beautiful and entrancing, but a way to navigate from the darkness that threatened to overwhelm. For a moment, his breath is taken and his expression is soft and so full of...everything, until he can find his voice again. "Am I? Needy and in your space for attention? Or do you mean light on my feet?" Because both were possibly true.
He changes the dance, something to allow him to pull Alaric closer, a hand on his hip and shoulder, as he kept their steps even, forward two, back three, forward three but at an angle to turn, back two, repeat.
"Stubborn and demanding of attention." He does not mind at all, though there's a pause before he finds the new rhythm and movement pattern before he can finish. "I meant light on your feet, though."
Alaric is clueless about the exact thoughts, or even directness of the feeling and in a way it's good - it means he can just know he's loved and enjoy the intimacy and time and ...play?
"I enjoyed dancing, when they had us do it. It was physical activity but it's also a conversation without words and an intimacy if done well." Not unlike sex, really. It could be fast and intense and leave everyone a sweaty mess or it could be intimate and intense and leave you feeling like your hearts conversed as much as your bodies. Right now, their faces closer and his eyes locked to Alaric's, he knew which he was leading them through.
"I'm glad. I'll enchant the new one and leave it on the table in your room so you may use it as you need. I'd still like to continue our little ritual with this one before you go out, if you're amenable. I enjoy what it's become."
His intention to be clear, but he realizes that he's answered the wrong question. "I want to continue our ritual with this one and this, but I meant that you putting the glyph on this collar tonight was a good idea. The other one will be something else, but this was the right thing for tonight."
There's a moment where his expression shifts from confused and slightly hurt to understanding and then back to a smile, earnest and a touch brighter for it. He still should have asked, but the guilt of it soothes the thing that churned and lurked in him. "Ah...good, then, I'm glad. Sometimes, a man ought to be free to have his own mind, especially such a mind as yours."
He paused a step of their movements to lean in for a brief kiss. He wanted more, to lose himself in it, but it wasn't time for that just yet. Instead, he lead them back to their earlier dance, but picked up the pace only a touch, back to what it was meant to be. "Let's see how well you remember now that I've distracted you with something slower and with different steps, hmm?" Rude? Maybe, but an effective learning trick.
"I always have my own mind. It just sometimes requires effort not to also have everyone else's." There's a quick smile with that, a bit quiet but in a contented way.
Then he stumbled a bit at the change he didn't expect - but only until he heard what Anders had said and went back to leaning into physical cues and what he'd learned.
"That is very true, you most certainly have your own mind." A gentle play at how stubborn Alaric could be, but it was steeped in affection.
He lead Alaric into another spin that put him out from Anders, then pulled him back into his chest by the hand he still held. "Do you? I do as well. I certainly wouldn't mind a little more dancing around here. Perhaps more music as well."
He scoffed. "Most assuredly not. Have I ever told you about Malum, the bar I regularly frequented and Hawke worked in back in the fleet?"
He was quietly pleased with the ease of the dancing and the mindlessness of the conversation, even. Light and easy and distracting. And a bit of physical exertion, dancing was always an easy way to get the blood moving. Another good reason to keep music around the house.
Slowly, the dance shifted a step here, another palm-circle there, things that weren't the pattern from before, but held the same steps and tempo and physical cues. Something off the cuff.
The... reality of the situation was that Alaric was bad at two of the things happening here: light conversation and anything off the cuff. The further reality was, he'd unwound and relaxed enough to follow physical cues easily and to let words that flitted into his mind come out of his mouth, even if they were inconsequential.
That was Anders' doing, entirely. Not in the moment, but everything that was the foundation of who they were and how they worked and who Anders was.
"No. You haven't told me much about the fleet at all. I'd like to know more."
He hadn't, had he? It was a delicate line: some people wanted to know more and others wanted nothing to do with the idea that they may just end up spirited off to some other place without ever seeing home again and, at the end of the day, the little details of the place they'd been before didn't matter here.
It didn't matter here either, aside from Alaric's curiosity, Anders' reminiscing, and the aim for mindless comfort of each other's company.
"Malum was a bar run by a demon named Crowley. Not your typical 'scary, bad, avoid' demon, but just another person who happened to be a demon. He was a very good boss to Hawke and a very good friend to us both. The whole place was lit in blue lighting and He had a jukebox that played all kinds of music I'd never heard before, but always at a low enough level to be ignored or listened to as you wanted. It was meant to be a comfortable and relaxing place for people to put their heads back on. Or lose them, it was a bar. He's the one who hooked me on the fruity drink I always order everywhere since he couldn't make anything I was familiar with."
Maker, he missed that place. Not the fleet, just Malum. He missed Crowley and his ridiculous tinted glasses hiding eyes that had something to do with him being a demon but Anders hadn't fully understood.
"Anyway...that's what I had in mind with the music: something to enjoy, not fight to be heard over."
He stopped moving outright at that and almost didn't hear the rest. Stopped and stared and-
"Did he teleport in a fire tornado?" Dry tone but he's kind of twitchy already. Why are you friends with demons? How is a demon not scary or bad? What the-
Alaric stops suddenly and Anders has no idea what's wrong or what's happened to suddenly throw them from easy dancing and talking to a full-out end of it. He hadn't-had he done something wrong?
Confusion drew his brows together and he shrugged. "No, not that I ever saw. He typically walked or just appeared places. He was very fond of some car he had, though he never drove it. He...had snake-like eyes? That's an oddly specific thing to ask..."
"There is a Prince of Hell in Duplicity. He teleports in a manner very similar to Nate, but rather than light it is fire," he says, absently. "You were friends with a demon." The hell is wrong with you, Anders.
"Ah." To both cases. He doesn't particularly care about 'prince' on a good day, mixed with the learned idea of 'hell' it took a moment to put the pieces together. 'You were friends with a demon' at least made more sense.
"Well, not immediately. When I met him, I was very cautious and told him why and he was reasonable about it. Then I had a passenger anyway, so he couldn't have done anything, and by the time my passenger was gone, I trusted him."
He shrugged a bit, as best he could. "I still wouldn't trust a 'prince of Hell' or a demon or anything of the like for a while, especially because those sorts tend to be charming. Crowley used to work for hell, from what I know, but then didn't like what they were doing and so did his own thing. Honestly, I think he was too lazy to be evil."
He leaned in to kiss Alaric's forehead. "I am cautious in my dealings with beings that might cause harm to me or those I care for and I never once struck a deal with him."
"I trust you," he says, to clarify. "I am just completely confused by the idea of a demon being anything but evil incarnate. Maybe I'll learn more as I am here longer. It certainly would not be the first time that the church had something wrong."
He's still pretty rattled and confused, but he's not close minded and he is willing to learn.
"Some still likely are, not all are good people." He was pretty sure he'd met the exception, not the rule, but it was enough of an exception to leave his mind open to there being more like Crowley. Demons would always inherently make him more cautious than comfortable.
"This time, I'm not particularly interested in talking about the church right now. I'm supposed to be taking your mind off things." He let their stance relax and simply took Alaric's hand to kiss his knuckles. "Shall we continue?" A simple check in to see if Alaric still wanted or needed this.
Alaric flushing is always lovely, though he feels a little badly for it in this case. He leans in for a quick kiss, hand coming up to hover at the clasp of the collar.
"What I was going to do does not require this if you'd rather the-" what was the word? Like act in a play- "scene over. We can continue the conversation while I give you the massage I intended. What would you like?" His hand stayed by the clasp, waiting for his own instructions for their continued context.
He nods and his fingers trace the line of the collar as his fingers fall. "We'll have plenty of time for discussion another time." One he would most certainly be interested in having, just not right now.
"Take off your shirt and pants and lay face down on the couch with one of the pillows. I'll be over in a moment." He squeezed Alaric's hand still in his, but then pulled away. He thought about turning off the music for a moment, but then changed his mind and left it playing as he went to go fetch the salve he was looking for.
He must be getting more secure because there is no ease at separation this time, and he is happy to undress and leave his clothes neatly in a chair. Then stretches out on his stomach on the sofa, arms under the pillow he rests his head on.
"I will put the animal stupid enough to interrupt to sleep," he warns.
He finds the salve quickly, most of the extras are stored either in the bathroom or in the laundry room, and he returns in time for the comment and to see Gauntlet settled down against the couch near enough where Alaric's hand could reach, like a subtle invitation for compromise.
Despite long limbs, Anders is fairly careful and well-practiced in folding his legs under him on either side of Alaric's feet. He scoops some of the salve into his hands, it's smell subtle but undeniably that of a deep forest after a rainfall. He works it across his hands, heats them and the salve with mana and then sets in working it into Alaric's left calf with slow and firm circles of dedicated attention. As it was pressed into Alaric's skin, the magic in it took, acting to both relax and sooth as much as the massage itself.
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He was happy to move away from the couch, found the rhythm and followed it well enough now that he understood. He was a little less confident in just following instructions but the trail of Anders' fingers was good, and the pull and spin back into Anders--
Made him laugh aloud again as he settled his free hand on Anders' chest. This was fun.
"And aren't uncatlike yourself."
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He changes the dance, something to allow him to pull Alaric closer, a hand on his hip and shoulder, as he kept their steps even, forward two, back three, forward three but at an angle to turn, back two, repeat.
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Alaric is clueless about the exact thoughts, or even directness of the feeling and in a way it's good - it means he can just know he's loved and enjoy the intimacy and time and ...play?
"The glyph was a good idea."
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"I'm glad. I'll enchant the new one and leave it on the table in your room so you may use it as you need. I'd still like to continue our little ritual with this one before you go out, if you're amenable. I enjoy what it's become."
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His intention to be clear, but he realizes that he's answered the wrong question. "I want to continue our ritual with this one and this, but I meant that you putting the glyph on this collar tonight was a good idea. The other one will be something else, but this was the right thing for tonight."
Earlier apology very much not necessary.
At all.
It's worked.
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He paused a step of their movements to lean in for a brief kiss. He wanted more, to lose himself in it, but it wasn't time for that just yet. Instead, he lead them back to their earlier dance, but picked up the pace only a touch, back to what it was meant to be. "Let's see how well you remember now that I've distracted you with something slower and with different steps, hmm?" Rude? Maybe, but an effective learning trick.
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Then he stumbled a bit at the change he didn't expect - but only until he heard what Anders had said and went back to leaning into physical cues and what he'd learned.
"I like this." With Anders, he means.
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He lead Alaric into another spin that put him out from Anders, then pulled him back into his chest by the hand he still held. "Do you? I do as well. I certainly wouldn't mind a little more dancing around here. Perhaps more music as well."
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This time? Easy following into the spin and out of it. He'd stopped anticipating and it showed.
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He was quietly pleased with the ease of the dancing and the mindlessness of the conversation, even. Light and easy and distracting. And a bit of physical exertion, dancing was always an easy way to get the blood moving. Another good reason to keep music around the house.
Slowly, the dance shifted a step here, another palm-circle there, things that weren't the pattern from before, but held the same steps and tempo and physical cues. Something off the cuff.
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That was Anders' doing, entirely. Not in the moment, but everything that was the foundation of who they were and how they worked and who Anders was.
"No. You haven't told me much about the fleet at all. I'd like to know more."
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It didn't matter here either, aside from Alaric's curiosity, Anders' reminiscing, and the aim for mindless comfort of each other's company.
"Malum was a bar run by a demon named Crowley. Not your typical 'scary, bad, avoid' demon, but just another person who happened to be a demon. He was a very good boss to Hawke and a very good friend to us both. The whole place was lit in blue lighting and He had a jukebox that played all kinds of music I'd never heard before, but always at a low enough level to be ignored or listened to as you wanted. It was meant to be a comfortable and relaxing place for people to put their heads back on. Or lose them, it was a bar. He's the one who hooked me on the fruity drink I always order everywhere since he couldn't make anything I was familiar with."
Maker, he missed that place. Not the fleet, just Malum. He missed Crowley and his ridiculous tinted glasses hiding eyes that had something to do with him being a demon but Anders hadn't fully understood.
"Anyway...that's what I had in mind with the music: something to enjoy, not fight to be heard over."
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Just another person who happened to be a demon.
What. The ever-loving--
He stopped moving outright at that and almost didn't hear the rest. Stopped and stared and-
"Did he teleport in a fire tornado?" Dry tone but he's kind of twitchy already. Why are you friends with demons? How is a demon not scary or bad? What the-
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Confusion drew his brows together and he shrugged. "No, not that I ever saw. He typically walked or just appeared places. He was very fond of some car he had, though he never drove it. He...had snake-like eyes? That's an oddly specific thing to ask..."
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"Well, not immediately. When I met him, I was very cautious and told him why and he was reasonable about it. Then I had a passenger anyway, so he couldn't have done anything, and by the time my passenger was gone, I trusted him."
He shrugged a bit, as best he could. "I still wouldn't trust a 'prince of Hell' or a demon or anything of the like for a while, especially because those sorts tend to be charming. Crowley used to work for hell, from what I know, but then didn't like what they were doing and so did his own thing. Honestly, I think he was too lazy to be evil."
He leaned in to kiss Alaric's forehead. "I am cautious in my dealings with beings that might cause harm to me or those I care for and I never once struck a deal with him."
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He's still pretty rattled and confused, but he's not close minded and he is willing to learn.
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"This time, I'm not particularly interested in talking about the church right now. I'm supposed to be taking your mind off things." He let their stance relax and simply took Alaric's hand to kiss his knuckles. "Shall we continue?" A simple check in to see if Alaric still wanted or needed this.
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Leaving him almost comically blank, expression wise, for a moment or two.
Then he remembers, flushes, and his expression turns sheepish.
"By all means, though I was enjoying the conversation as well."
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"What I was going to do does not require this if you'd rather the-" what was the word? Like act in a play- "scene over. We can continue the conversation while I give you the massage I intended. What would you like?" His hand stayed by the clasp, waiting for his own instructions for their continued context.
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Also probably not great for him or Anders, and he's curious.
"Please."
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"Take off your shirt and pants and lay face down on the couch with one of the pillows. I'll be over in a moment." He squeezed Alaric's hand still in his, but then pulled away. He thought about turning off the music for a moment, but then changed his mind and left it playing as he went to go fetch the salve he was looking for.
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"I will put the animal stupid enough to interrupt to sleep," he warns.
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Despite long limbs, Anders is fairly careful and well-practiced in folding his legs under him on either side of Alaric's feet. He scoops some of the salve into his hands, it's smell subtle but undeniably that of a deep forest after a rainfall. He works it across his hands, heats them and the salve with mana and then sets in working it into Alaric's left calf with slow and firm circles of dedicated attention. As it was pressed into Alaric's skin, the magic in it took, acting to both relax and sooth as much as the massage itself.
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"What is in that?"
No wait, not what he was here for. He tried to brush that aside.
"It's lovely and don't answer that, please."
He trusts Anders. He can relax and just enjoy the weight and warmth at his back and the feel.
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