Birthday Month Fic - #9
Aug. 31st, 2020 04:56 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
galadriel1010Prompt: Coffee Shop
Fandom: Dragon Age
Pairing: Herren/Wade
How Wade told Herren they were going to live and work together, and how Herren went along with it willingly.
It was a quiet day, again. A walk through the city revealed the reasons, with more and more houses standing empty every day and the docks busy with families moving their entire household back to Orlais or even Antiva. Anyone with money was leaving ‘for the duration’ as the war approached Denerim, although the mood was either optimistic or pessimistic, depending on what neighbourhood you were in. It was generally accepted to be a foregone conclusion that King Maric’s armies would reach Denerim within the month, and that he would be victorious. The war, the occupation, were all but over. It was good news, except…
Except that they were taking the money with them, and with it the work. Herren polished the already gleaming counter in the once-fashionable coffee shop and sighed heavily.
He was therefore surprised when the door opened, and even more surprised when it admitted a familiar and welcome face. The young man had been a regular in days gone by with his master, a snooty Orlesian blacksmith who thought himself the Maker’s gift to metalwork and everything else besides. For all that, and the amount of Herren’s daydreams the young man’s arms had occupied, they’d never actually had a conversation, or even exchanged names. This might, he realised, be his last chance, so instead he said, “Your usual, sir?”
The young man harrumphed through his impressive moustache. “I haven’t time for that,” he said dismissively. “This is important. Are you leaving Denerim?”
“What?”
“I said, are you leaving Denerim? It’s a simple enough question.”
Herren tried not to look as bewildered as he felt. “Well… no. I have no family outside Ferelden.”
“Good, then I shalln’t either. And yes.”
He thought back through the conversation and assumed the yes was to coffee, so he reached for a packet of the Rialto dark that his visitor preferred. “Were you going to leave Denerim?”
“Well, I had an invitation. My master is returning to… oh, somewhere on Lake Celestine, he asked me to go and continue my apprenticeship with him. I said I’d consider it.” He flung himself into a chair and watched Herren. “But if you’re staying here, I will too.”
“What will you do?”
He waved his hand airily. “The forge and house will be empty, he refuses to sell to a Ferelden and won’t find a buyer in Orlais. I’ll simply move in there and set up on my own. And you can join me,” he added, as if it was a foregone conclusion, “I will need someone to manage the finances whilst I work.”
Herren gaped at him. “But I don’t even know your name! And I have the coffee shop.”
“It’s Wade. And yours is Herren, yes? Fereldens don’t drink coffee, you know that. You’ll have a job on your hands keeping this place going. But there will always be need for swords.”
Despite everything, he found himself nodding in agreement. Once he’d done that, there was no taking it back. He took Wade his coffee and sat down in the other chair at the small table. “So you want an assistant…”
“I require a partner. I am an artist with metal; all that paperwork of orders and payments, they simply distract me.” His cool grey eyes held Herren’s without a hint of amusement or jest. “And I find your company tolerable.”
“Just tolerable?”
“Well, desirable at times.” He rolled his eyes. “So will you take it?”
For some ridiculous reason, Herren said yes. And even after the affair with the drakescale, he still found he was glad of that decision more often than he regretted it.
Fandom: Dragon Age
Pairing: Herren/Wade
How Wade told Herren they were going to live and work together, and how Herren went along with it willingly.
It was a quiet day, again. A walk through the city revealed the reasons, with more and more houses standing empty every day and the docks busy with families moving their entire household back to Orlais or even Antiva. Anyone with money was leaving ‘for the duration’ as the war approached Denerim, although the mood was either optimistic or pessimistic, depending on what neighbourhood you were in. It was generally accepted to be a foregone conclusion that King Maric’s armies would reach Denerim within the month, and that he would be victorious. The war, the occupation, were all but over. It was good news, except…
Except that they were taking the money with them, and with it the work. Herren polished the already gleaming counter in the once-fashionable coffee shop and sighed heavily.
He was therefore surprised when the door opened, and even more surprised when it admitted a familiar and welcome face. The young man had been a regular in days gone by with his master, a snooty Orlesian blacksmith who thought himself the Maker’s gift to metalwork and everything else besides. For all that, and the amount of Herren’s daydreams the young man’s arms had occupied, they’d never actually had a conversation, or even exchanged names. This might, he realised, be his last chance, so instead he said, “Your usual, sir?”
The young man harrumphed through his impressive moustache. “I haven’t time for that,” he said dismissively. “This is important. Are you leaving Denerim?”
“What?”
“I said, are you leaving Denerim? It’s a simple enough question.”
Herren tried not to look as bewildered as he felt. “Well… no. I have no family outside Ferelden.”
“Good, then I shalln’t either. And yes.”
He thought back through the conversation and assumed the yes was to coffee, so he reached for a packet of the Rialto dark that his visitor preferred. “Were you going to leave Denerim?”
“Well, I had an invitation. My master is returning to… oh, somewhere on Lake Celestine, he asked me to go and continue my apprenticeship with him. I said I’d consider it.” He flung himself into a chair and watched Herren. “But if you’re staying here, I will too.”
“What will you do?”
He waved his hand airily. “The forge and house will be empty, he refuses to sell to a Ferelden and won’t find a buyer in Orlais. I’ll simply move in there and set up on my own. And you can join me,” he added, as if it was a foregone conclusion, “I will need someone to manage the finances whilst I work.”
Herren gaped at him. “But I don’t even know your name! And I have the coffee shop.”
“It’s Wade. And yours is Herren, yes? Fereldens don’t drink coffee, you know that. You’ll have a job on your hands keeping this place going. But there will always be need for swords.”
Despite everything, he found himself nodding in agreement. Once he’d done that, there was no taking it back. He took Wade his coffee and sat down in the other chair at the small table. “So you want an assistant…”
“I require a partner. I am an artist with metal; all that paperwork of orders and payments, they simply distract me.” His cool grey eyes held Herren’s without a hint of amusement or jest. “And I find your company tolerable.”
“Just tolerable?”
“Well, desirable at times.” He rolled his eyes. “So will you take it?”
For some ridiculous reason, Herren said yes. And even after the affair with the drakescale, he still found he was glad of that decision more often than he regretted it.
