#Dirthamens meeting with Deceit and Fear is supposed to be reminiscent of the actual story in DA canon

[selenelavellan]

Clubs and Cookies

Concert AU

Part One Part Two (NSFW)

Dirthamen, Deceit, Fear and the Evanuris (mentioned) belong to @feynites

TW for Alcohol and Food and Polyamory

“So, I heard you think we aren't dating.” Deceit accuses through Selenes speakerphone.

She lets out a sigh, and continues chopping up the vegetables for her and Des's dinner. “Well, it is difficult to apply that term to our relationship given that there haven't yet been any actual dates.”

“Of course there have been dates. We've all gone to a few concerts together now.”

“Pretty sure that only counts as a date when we're all actually there together, rather than one of you sending Des a text with 'hey we're performing tonight, your names are on the list. Come watch us and then come over for sex.'”

“Dinner was involved too, as I recall.”

Silently shaking her head as she pours the carrots into the bowl, Selene continues. “The point of dates, you know, is to talk and get to know each other.  Not for one party to sit and watch the other at work, and then crawl into bed together. I'll give you the dinners, but I'm getting really sick of pizza.”

“So why'd you tell Fear, and not me? Or Dirthamen?”

“Fear asked,” Selene shrugs “I knew Des bought them the red pumps already, and I had a dress that paired well with them. When they asked what I wanted to borrow them for, I was honest.”

“Hm...” Deceit grumbles. “Did you have a good time?”

“Yes. She was lovely, and very sweet.” Selene admits.

“Did you sleep with her?”

“Not yet.”

“Are you planning to?”

Selene hums, contemplating the matter over as she washes off the chicken, letting them wait for her answer. They deserve it, really. They've all been seeing each other for a little over a month now, and this is the first time any of them have indicated that they might be interested in more than sex. Dirthamen still won't tell her his last name, for goodness sakes. “I haven't decided. We haven't actually made plans for a second date yet, so she may not even be interested.”

“So you're free tonight, then.”

“No, I'm cooking.”

“Great, I'll be there in an hour.”

“That wasn't an invi-” her phone beeps as Deceit hangs up. “-tation.”

A frustrated puff of air escapes her mouth as her fingers tap on the plastic counter top.

“Des!” She finally calls out as she pulls another chicken breast out of the fridge “We're having a guest over for dinner.”

---

“I didn't know you could cook like that,” Deceit compliments as he wipes his hands and Des takes the plates into the kitchen. “You've been holding out on us.”

“Well, if you kept any groceries in the house that didn't have Fears name labeled across them, maybe I could make something for you all once in a while.” Selene teases.

“Noted.” Deceit nods.

She stands, intending to help Des with the dishes in their kitchen.

“Going to change?” Deceit asks instead.

“Uh...” Selene blinks down at her t shirt and accidentally ripped up jeans. “...no?”

“I don't think they'll let you in like that.”

“Am I going somewhere?”

“I'm taking you on a date.”

Selene blinks, and raises one eyebrow, slowly. “Typically, you ask people out on dates.”

“I told him it was fine!” Des hollers from the kitchen.

Deceit grins, seemingly satisfied that he thinks he did this entirely correctly.

“I meant, you are supposed to ask the person going on the date if they want to go.”

“You said you wanted to go on dates with us before I came over,” Deceit points out. “So that we could be dating.”

“That's not exactly how I remember that conversation goin-”

“Wear the blue dress,” Des advises, head poking out from the kitchen, rubber gloves still wet and soapy over his hands “With the gold heels. The strappy ones.”

“That's...” Selene stammers “That's a lot of skin left open, Des.”

“That's the point.” He grins, waggling his eyebrows.

She glances between the two elves, and wonders for a moment how the universe hasn't collapsed around the sheer amount of ego they're exuding. Then she wanders off to her room to change, anyways.

She could use a night out, after all.

---

The club is loud, and the bouncer is familiar enough with Deceit that the two of them are waved inside without even having to stop at the ropes. Inside, the dance floor is crowded, bodies pressed against each other through latex and polyester and leather and flashing lights.

She's ready to leave, already.

Deceit guides her through the crowd, up the staircase and into a more secluded booth. Selene is grateful to be able to breathe through the haze of cologne and body sprays here, at least. She carefully pulls down on the hem of her dress, even as it continues trying to ride up her thighs with each step. Deceit orders some drink she doesn't catch the name of from one of the bussers walking around the second level, and then turn to face her, leaning across the table attentively.

“So. What would you like to talk about?”

Selene lets out a small bark of a laugh “You brought me to a nightclub to talk?”

“This is a good date location for people our age. I asked around.”

She laughs again, shaking her head before giving in and leaning forward on the table again, one of Des's long gold necklaces clinking lightly against the surface. “You asked me here. What do you want to talk about?”

Deceits eyes narrow as they carefully rub their chin in consideration. Two bright red drinks are placed on the table as the busser passes them again. After a minute, Deceit points a finger at Selene. “Tell me about your family.”

Selene imitates a buzzer sound “Hard pass. Try again.”

“Ok. What do you do for a living?”

“Currently, I'm unemployed. I do some odd jobs here and there when I really need the money, but mostly it's freelance writing these days.”

“Like stories?”

“No, textbooks mostly. A lot of math ones.”

“Don't you need a high level degree for that?”

“Yeah, that's why it's a good thing I have a few. Complex Analysis, Discrete Mathematics, and Teaching.”

Deceit lets out a low whistle. “Why aren't you using them then?”

“I was. I taught for a few years, before I...” she pauses, hesitant to tell the truth. “Left.” she finally lies.

“Bold career move.”

Selene nods, and shifts uncomfortably in the booth before taking another sip of her drink.

“So...parents, then. Dead?”

“Dunno,” She admits “I ran away with Des when I was a teenager and haven't checked in since. You were supposed to ask something else.”

Deceit takes a sip of his drink and continues on anyways. “Where'd you run away from?”

“Family.”

“Evasive.” he accuses.

“Still more than I should give you.” She shoots back.

“Ooh, mysterious. Why'd you leave, then?”

“I was unhappy. Not such a mystery, really.”

“How long have you known Des?”

“Since we were kids. We grew up together.”

“Would he answer these questions if I asked him?”

“Not truthfully. I've had to field a lot of questions from bed partners he's told some pretty extreme backstories too.”

“What sort of stories?”

“Hm,” Selene muses, taking a sip of her own drink as she tries to recall a few notable ones. “Well, he's told people he was a very tall dwarf, who disguised himself as an elf to avoid the Carta. Another time, he claimed to be a city elf from Kirkwall who slew a team of templars and was on the run from the Chantry. Oh, and he even claimed to be a long lost heir of the Evanuris family once.”

Deceit nearly chokes on his drink at the last one, and Selene reaches out to try to help before he waves her off. “The uh...The Evanuris family, huh?”

“Yeah, he just likes people to think he's got some dark, broody past. Says people like to try to 'fuck the sad away'. I'd say he's ridiculous, but I've seen it work, often, so...” She shrugs.

“That's...” Deceit chuckles, before muttering something under his breath about not telling someone else about it, and changes the subject back. “So, what do you tell people?”

“I usually back up his stories.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. There's no harm in it, and he doesn't bring them back for a second visit anyways.”

“He seems awfully persistent for a once-and-done sort of guy.”

“Well, he likes you guys,” Selene admits “He's actually not even seeing other people right now.”

“But you don't like us?”

“I didn't say that.” Selene frowns.

“You're seeing someone else.”

“Someone else asked me, and I said yes. You all want to sit down and actually hammer out whatever this is we're all doing together? Fine by me. But don't get mad at me for looking for something serious elsewhere when no one's even hinted at being exclusive. I'm not actually a fan of casual sex.”

Deceit nods, slowly. “Alright. I'm sorry. We...didn't know. We thought you two wanted something loose, and informal.”

“I'm not looking for a multi-year lets-all-sign-a-lease-together commitment or anything this early,” Selene assures him “But I do really like you. All of you. I can't keep doing the casual thing if it's not leading anywhere, is all. It'll hurt too much when it ends. I thought I saw an out, so...I took it.”

“Look for outs a lot?”

“What does that mean?” Selene disapproves, shoulders tightening in defense.

“Well, you said you ran away from your family, you ran away from your job, and now you're saying you were thinking of running from us, so it just seems like you have a habit of leaving when things get tough.”

Selenes fingers tighten around her glass, before she abruptly throws its remnants directly into Deceits face.

Stunned eyes blink back at her as she stands, and straightens her dress. “You don't know a damn thing about me,” she hisses, before storming angrily out of the club, tears pricking in the corners of her eyes.

He's right. Of course, he's right. She runs from all her problems, she knows. She ran from her father, from Haleir, from her clan. She's running from Deceit, now.

Guess I'm just a coward, she thinks bitterly, sniffling as she works her key into her front door, slamming it closed behind her once she's entered.

“Have a good time you...” Des stops dead in the hallway as he sees Selene, on the verge of tears in their entry way.

She sniffles again, and he races towards her, helping her onto their old, off color couch.

“Did he hurt you?” Des asks, softly.

Selene shakes her head “No. No, no, it wasn't anything like that. I just...” She takes a deep breath, and wipes at the corners of her eyes “He asked some questions I didn't want to answer, is all.”

Des nods understandingly “You told him about the clan?”

“No. No, I just told him we ran away when we were teenagers. Didn't tell him why, or from where.”

“Ok,” Des sighs, wrapping his arms around Selene consolingly as he strokes her bare shoulder “Alright. That's alright. You don't have to tell them anything you don't want to.”

Selene nods, sitting comfortably in his arms on their couch for several minutes in silence.

“...Do you think I'm a coward?” she finally murmurs.

“No. Absolutely not.”

Selene looks up at him disbelievingly.

“Scouts honor.”

“You were never a scout.”

“My honor as a mage then,” he shrugs. “Did Deceit call you a coward? I'll beat him up if you want.”

Selene snorts “He would kick your ass, and we both know it. And..no, not exactly. He just...pointed out that I tend to run away from things in my life. Right before I threw a drink in his face and...ran away from him.” She groans “Ohhhh, I'm an idiot.”

“You're not an idiot, and you're not a coward,” Des smiles. “Deceit doesn't know what happened, right? You were brave for leaving, Selene. There is nothing cowardly about leaving a toxic environment, it takes a lot of courage to do what you did with the clan.”

“And I still don't have a job...” She groans.

“Well, that's my fault, really.”

“It's my fault, too. I went along with it.”

“It's the systems fault then,” he concedes. “They shouldn't be able to take away your livelihood just because you had one bad night.”

Selene shrugs, tired and worn out, and feeling a little hurt. She shouldn't be, she thinks. She should text Deceit, and apologize for throwing the drink in his face. But he might be mad, and she doesn't think she could handle being cursed out and dumped right now.

Instead, Des turns the TV onto one of their favorite movies, and lets the background noise fill the room while they fall asleep together on the couch.

---

Selenes phone buzzes her awake around noon the next day.

Fear.

Can you come help me with something?

She pauses, and bites her lip. Des has already left for his own work, and she's alone in the apartment, still wearing last nights dress, although it looks as though Des has removed her heels.

Depends. Who's home? She sends back.

Just Me.

It's probably too much to hope that Deceit didn't tell anyone. Surely they all know what happened by now.

Just us for the day?

Sure.

Let me get dressed and I'll head over.

A thumbs up emoji pops up as confirmation, and she changes into a comfortable pale green shirt and dark pants, washing off the previous nights make up.

She snags her purse, and makes her way over to their apartment.

Fear greets her, wearing an apron, and waves her into the kitchen. “I'm making some peanut butter oatmeal cookies. Give me a hand?”

“I'll try, but I should probably warn you that my baking skills are awful.”

Fear gives a soft 'mm' as they hand her a spare apron. “I hear your cooking skills are pretty good, actually.”

“You spoke with Deceit then.”

“I asked why he came home soaked in cherry juice and wet eyeliner, yeah.”

Selene sighs.

“Are you leaving us?” They ask point blank.

“I don't know,” Selene admits as she ties it off behind her. “I'm just confused, I think? One step forward, two steps back and all that.”

“Deceit can be confusing.” Fear nods. “I often do not understand his ideas.”

“You and me both,” she mutters.

Selene helps fear to cream the butter and sugar, and the two of them are rolling the dough into balls before Fear speaks again.

“So why did you leave your family?”

Selene lets out a groan. “It doesn't matter.”

“It does. Dirthamen has us maxed out on family troubles. If we are going to all proceed together, we need to know what we are all taking on.”

“What are Dirthamens family troubles?”

Fear blinks. “He hasn't told you why he wears the mask?”

“Just that his family makes him. No other details.”

“Yes...well...” Fear frowns “He should be the one to tell you. Suffice to say we simply try to keep him away from them to the best of our abilities.”

Selene places another ball of dough onto the parchment paper. “Are they that bad?”

“When we met Dirthamen, he had been abandoned in the woods by his twin brother. He thought it a prank to 'toughen him up'. It was not funny. He was almost killed by the wildlife and dehydration, convinced that his brother would return to him.”

“How long was he-”

“A week,” Fear tells her bitterly. “They left him there for a week, and were unimpressed that we assisted him to the hospital after. As though their abandonment were due to some flaw of his, and not an utter failure on their part to care for him. We have stuck to his side ever since.”

Selenes pace has slowed to a halt as Fear finishes their tale, and she stares contemplatively down at their granite counter top. “That's...They did that on purpose?”

“They are not good people. But he tries to be loyal to them anyways. It has been a long road. He is still only living here on weekends, but it is something, at least.”

“Will I have to deal with them?”

“If we all agree to move forward into an official relationship, that seems likely.”

“Will I have to hold my tongue, if I do?”

Fear pauses as they close the oven door, head tilting to the side. “I punched his brother in the face when he showed up at the hospital, so I may not be the correct person to answer that inquiry.”

Selene laughs, and Fear nods.

“It was very gratifying.”

“I bet.”

“It is one of many reasons his family does not like us, though. A subtler approach may permit you more freedom in their eyes.”

Selene nods in understanding, and helps Fear move all of the mixing bowls into the dishwasher.

Once they and the kitchen have been cleaned up, Fear turns to her.

“It is your turn.”

She blinks. “My turn?”

“Why did you leave your family?” they ask again.

She sighs. “I...don't let Des know I told you, ok?”

Fear nods, never breaking eye contact.

“My dad was an ass, and wanted a life for me I wasn't interested in. My boyfriend at the time was a lying, cheating, non-consensual ass. Our Keeper wanted me to marry him anyways, and Des convinced me it was worth chasing after the life I wanted. So we ran away to the cities, I got a scholarship and went to school, and Des started working.”

“...You were Dalish?”

“Technically, my parents were Dalish. Des and I left before we gained our vallaslin, so it's sort of a blurry line depending on who you ask-”

“Des was Dalish?”

Selene grins “It's a weird picture, right?”

“I can not imagine him in that sort of environment.”

“Yeah, he fit in about as well as you're picturing. Clan life didn't agree with Des, and he'd kill me if he knew I told you.”

“I will be sure to save the knowledge for a special occasion.”

Selene laughs as the timer dings for the cookies. Fear pulls them out of the oven, placing them carefully onto the cooling racks.

“You are interested in pursuing an exclusive relationship with us, then?” Fear asks, hesitantly.

Selene hums. “Yeah. I should probably apologize to Deceit first, though.”

“He will forgive you,” Fear assures her. “He is out trying to discover an adequate way to apologize to you, already.”

Selene snorts as Fear hands her a finished cookie, and takes a bite. It is...terrible. Somehow raw in the center but burnt on the bottom. Too salty by far, and some of the oatmeal pieces still look pale.

Fear seems to have discovered this as well, judging by the look on their face.

“I have made this recipe dozens of times,” they muse “And I have never had any issue with it. Did you do something?”

“Only what you told me to.”

They frown. “I have literally designed this recipe to be as simplistic as possible, to ensure the optimal result, and to keep it from being able to be ruined,” they glance up at her. “Have you checked to see if you are cursed?”

“I have.”

“And?”

“Nothing.” she shrugs.

Fears frown deepens, before they turn and throw the rest of the batch into the garbage, retrieving another set of mixing bowls from the cabinets.

“Do you need any-”

“I do not require assistance,” they assure Selene. “I will make this next batch. Please, feel free to enjoy our entertainment system. Dirthamen has an extensive blu-ray and dvd collection for you to peruse.”

Selene pouts, and instead sits on a stool on the other side of the breakfast bar, watching as Fear blazes through the recipe.

She should really learn how to do that one day, she thinks.

#Concert AU #Selene lavellan #Des #Deceit #Fear #Dirthalene #sort of #eyyy character interactions #Dirthamens meeting with Deceit and Fear is supposed to be reminiscent of the actual story in DA canon #Not sure how well that translated but #yay backstory #some slightly cleaned up drabbles #for reasons

[selenelavellan]

Changes

Newly Formed AU

one     two     three     four

Dirthamen and the Evanuris are @feynites

It takes Selene nearly three hours to explore the available areas of Lord Dirthamens room.

The first half hour or so she had spent beneath the blankets, trying to convince herself she had slipped into a particularly strong part of the dreaming. That this was all an illusion and if she could manage to wake herself up, she would tell Ethvhenas all about what some ridiculous, troublesome spirit had tried to convince her of, and then get on with her life.

Deceit had put a rather firm damper on that particular theory.

Fear comes later. Summoned, she supposes, by the tremble in her limbs as she stumbled upon one of Dirthamens many closets, only to come face to face with potions and magics far beyond anything she had been allowed access to, even before her exile. Old secrets, whispering through loosened lids and splintering woods too long neglected in their keepers absence. Tempting in their promises, their truths, their price.

But Fear closes the door before they can reach her. Flaps their wings with a burst of magic, a high pitched hiss through the thick wood the only indication of the changes that must have occurred on the other side.

“This was not properly looked after while we were gone,” They explain as though discussing something as common as the weather. “I will ensure no other breaches have occurred.”

And with that, they fly off towards the dreaming, leaving her alone and clutching her blanket tighter around her shoulders.

“Right,” She mumbles to herself “Avoid the secret gods closet of magical knick knacks. Probably should have been an obvious one.”

She finds three more closets. 

One is locked. The next is packed with clothing and wigs and accessories for all occasions, and the last is full of books.

Just...stacked in every possible way to fit as many books and scrolls and papers as someone could manage within the space without damaging them. So many books.

So many more books than she had managed to fit in her one meager trunk when she left home.

The ends of her fingers itch as she reads the spines, glancing over the color cords of the scrolls to determine each ones subject matter.

I'll come back for you, she vows silently as she swings the door shut.

The bathroom is huge. She's sorely tempted to take a long, warm bath when she sees it, but stops herself. There's no telling when Lord Dirthamen will return from his meeting, and for all she knows right now she could try to turn the valve and end up with a basin of blood instead of water.

Nope.

Not chancing that.

Much of the remaining space is just that.

Space.

Empty and open, with stones that glisten in the light and a ceiling that reflects weather patterns across the empire. Illusions of clouds and stars gleam overhead, casting long shadows throughout the room as she strides across it. There is a large window on the opposite wall, stretching all the way up to the ceiling, and Selene stares at the mountain range in the distance.

She is not sure how long it has been since she has seen mountains, but her breath catches in her throat at the realization of just how far from her home she really is.

The weight of her situation comes crashing down on her again as she drops to her knees on the floor.

She shudders again, arms clutching her blanket tightly around her shoulders. The last thing she has to remember her home by, she supposes. She can't go back.

...Could she go back?

No. Sylaise wants her dead and there's no reason for her to pretend otherwise anymore. If she steps foot back in her ladies territory, she will be executed, and she is not good enough to be rescued a second time.

Will her vallaslin change? She supposes it will. What will her duties be? Caretaker for Lord Dirthamen? Surely he has actual people for that here. People that won't read him childrens stories or scratch that spot where his ears go, or have to go chasing him through crawl spaces when he gets distracted by something.

Selene wonders for a moment if they have taffy in his territories.

She makes her way slowly back to the front area where the actual bed resides, feeling more drained than she should from exploring a single bedroom, even one as large as his. She pulls back the top cover, ready to crawl back in when the door swings open and Lord Dirthamen enters his chamber again.

Selene is about to greet him, when she notices the tendril peeking out of the bottom of his cloak. Long and dark and shining, more reminiscent of how he looked when she first found him in the forest than any elf. He closes the door behind himself, and she watches as his whole person seems to slump down.

...Perhaps he needs someone to care for him.

The way she has been.

“How did it go?” She asks as she approaches him. Carefully, she pulls down his hood and he responds by slumping against her. Four arm-like limbs wrap around her torso as his mask settles in the crook of her neck.

“They are understandably upset,” He says. “My mother is disappointed I hid for so long. My father says it was proof of my laziness, and my brother feels as though it was a slight against him and wishes for your head in recompense.”

“Well, he sounds charming.” Selene teases, carefully lifting her friend into her arms and moving to the edge of his bed.

“He and my sister both wish you dead.” He continues. “Sylaise claims I have robbed her and forced back her projects by taking you from the altar. She demands reparations, but I am unsure who would suit her now.”

“You can't mean you're planning to trade someone else to take my place as sacrifice,” Selene frowns. Dirthamens head tilts to lean against her shoulder as he lets out a heavy breath.

“It would be the fairest option.”

“It's not very fair for the person who gets sacrificed.” Selene argues.

Dirthamen hesitates. “No,” he relents. “I suppose it is not. But it allows you to remain safe.”

Selene lets out a breath of her own. “Could I maybe...do some chores or something for Sylaise instead? Play the part of the groveling subject for a few days to help her save face without killing anyone?”

“The chances that you would come across an 'accident' in her service are too high to risk that offer.”

Dirthamen shifts against her, moving until he has one leg on either side of her own and finally lifting his face to look at her. Selene is still contemplating her options, trying to think of a solution that doesn't involve someone else dying in her place.

“If it means that much to you,” Dirthamen finally says. “I will attempt to negotiate another solution with Sylaise.”

Selene visibly relaxes, shuffling awkwardly and clearing her throat when she feels a piece of his body that is elven and was certainly not a known factor when he was still Ethvhenas press against her stomach.

“Thank you.” She manages, finally looking at him eye to eye. They are very blue, beneath the slits of the mask. A familiar color, deep and calming and precious to her after their time together.

It is almost disconcerting to only be able to see two of them.

“May I take off your mask?” She blurts.

He blinks.

Hesitates.

And nods.

Careful as she can, Selenes fingers curve against the edges of the mask, brushing against the edge of his skin as they lift it off to reveal the face beneath.

Oh, she breathes. He's beautiful.

He tenses, eyes darting to the side quickly, and his features change.

This time, it is Selene who blinks.

“Your face changes even as an elf?” She asks.

“It is why I wear the mask,” He explains. “People find it unsettling. I apologize for my face. I know it is unpleasant.”

“I like your face,” Selene asserts, hand moving to cover her mouth as she realizes what she just said. “I mean. That is, it's not unpleasant in any way. You jaw line is very uh...well defined. This version of it, anyways. And your eye color is the same, which is nice, they've always been a lovely color. Not that-not that that matters, just that with everything changing so suddenly it's comforting to have something....not change.”

Selene thinks she can see a faint dusting of red growing beneath the cool tones of his current skin.

She doubts her own face is faring much better right now. Although it might be interesting to see if she can actually fit her entire foot in her mouth, after rambling like that.

“I uh...” She clears her throat. “If I'm going to be staying here-I assume I'm going to be staying here, if I can't go back to Sylaise-I...am I going to be a healer, still? You should know my training wasn't technically fully completed. Formally. I was sort of...well,-you know what happened- before I finished my full apprenticeship. Filled in the gaps through trades with spirits to manage, but I don't know that I'm actually up to your standards.”

Dirthamen sighs, head nuzzling back into the crook of her neck with enough force that she falls flat back on the bed.

She is suddenly painfully aware that he is in an elven body rather than his spirit one, his chest against her breasts and her legs shifting to a more relaxed position, leaving one of his own between them. He doesn't seem nearly as concerned, content just to cuddle like they have been for the last year.

Which is fine.

She can handle this.

“Just stay with me for now,” He mumbles into her neck, arms tightening slightly around her. “Too many changes...please, just stay with me.”

Selene swallows. One arm strokes gently up and down his back, the other hand scratching at the space behind his left ear like used to enjoy as he lets a warm feeling of contentment fill the room.

Ok.

She can...probably handle this.

#Newly formed AU #Dirthalene #Selene Lavellan #*Drags hand down face* they're so /young/ what massive giant awkward dorks