bakerstreet | Unexpected Domesticity

Unexpected Domesticity

unexpected domesticity shipping meme.
you never thought you'd have a home, at least not one you can call completely yours, no strings attached and no one lording above you or controlling you. you may not have even known what a "home" truly is, or thought you wanted one. now, there is a touch of domesticity in your life, no matter what things are like otherwise, because you have a home, though you may not have a house proper.

most importantly, you now have someone to share this new facet of life with - a partner. similar to you or completely different, relationship unspoken or unrealized, heavily romantic or understated, they are slowly but surely becoming someone indispensable to you. you never could have seen this coming. and, of course, with domesticity comes a certain amount of intimacy, perhaps even the ultimate physical intimacy...you may be open to that already or you're working up to it when you'd hardly considered it before.

whether your situation is for the long term as it stands, could end at any moment, or a mere disguise you're using to lay low, you're getting comfortable. how does that make you feel? will you it accept a new lease on life - or will you sabotauge yourself before someone else does?

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[ ooc; Info in profile, permissions here. OTA for shipping, only no is smut. Preference for historical settings. She heralds from France in the 1910's, but I can AU her into any point between 1800 and 1930's. Am here for quiet, subtle, sweet threads, love a focus on emotional intensity. ]

[ooc: open to cross-canon/aus.]

[ She'd like to ~~attempt to~~ cook you dinner, Hawke. Game? ]

[ Sure! Give it a shot. He's not too picky. ]

[ Yeah, but here's hoping whatever she turns out is actually EDIBLE, lmao! ]

Leanna had asked Varric to relay her invitation to Hawke, since she was still not quite bold enough to do so herself. Shy? Leanna Trevelyan? The world took its own collective gasp at that notion. Dorian had given her no end of shit, and she'd punched him good and proper - she hoped he nursed that bruise on his bicep for a week - and Cassandra had lifted a silent eyebrow - and been ignored, thank you - and so, mind made up, the Inquisitor hustled the cook out of Skyhold's kitchen and fell to slicing, chopping, and seasoning as she readied the meal she'd promised to serve to the former Champion of Kirkwall.

Mainly as thanks for his very much appreciated assistance with the Wardens (and that Maker-damned terrifying jaunt through the Fade), but also, because she enjoyed his company and wanted more of it.

Without prying eyes, editorials, or judgments about who she spent her time with, precious as it was.

The dining hall was too big, too impersonal, but she'd sequestered a small table in a nook just off of the kitchen, near enough to the fire to be warm, and conveniently out of the main traffic flow. Just the Inquisitor and the Champion. No big deal, right?

Right?

She'd opted to prepare a casserole, full of meat and vegetables beneath a crispy crust, which, alas, came out charcoal on one end and slightly undercooked on the other, but there was no help for it. At least there was plenty of ale. And grilled onions, sweet when cooked. And bread, although no one had to know it had come out of the oven just before she hustled out the cook.

Alas that she wasn't aware of the flour smudge on one cheek and the large crock of butter melting a little faster then usual, beginning to drip over the edge of the table. (Being too close to the fire did that.) But the table was set nicely, though the crockery didn't match, and she was just bustling up from the ale cellar when the galley door creaked open.

[ Power took forever to come back. Sorry for the delay! ]

It took a minute for Hawke to catch on that Varric wasn't inviting him to dinner with him but with the Inquisitor. A thank you meal, Varric had explained, for all he had done and risked by coming out of hiding. Once he caught on Hawke had figured, why not? He would soon hit the road again and head off for Weisshaupt so he might as well enjoy a hot meal.

The kitchen was empty of the usual bustle of servants. The fire crackled merrily and there was a simple meal on the table. He thought he was early until he saw the Inquisitor emerging from the cellar.

"Hello Inquisitor." Hawke strode over and took the ale cask from her. He knew full well she was capable but Hawke was the sort of help where he could. Whether that help was welcome or not was always up for debate. "Where do you want it?"

He chose a nearby spot and set the cask down with ease.

He had forgone most of his Champion armor at Varric's urging. It was just dinner. He didn't need to be armored for dinner. Hawke had argued that a dinner between the former Champion of Kirkwall and the Inquisitor was a prime target for assassins so he should be armored but like most arguments with Varric he lost. He was dressed simply in a tunic, breeches, and boots with a cloak as an concession to the cold. His staff did sit across his back because he refused to go anywhere without it.

"Thank you for the invitation," he said, one corner of his mouth tipping up slightly. "Though Varric didn't say what you wanted to discuss over dinner."

He assumed there was some sort of business to this dinner besides a simple thanks. In his experience almost everything the Inquisition did had some sort of business attached to it. Political organizations were like that, apparently.

[ no worries! glad it's back. and my own apologies; rl sort of EATS me sometimes, ugh. ]

She'd been preparing to scold the cook good and proper for once again returning to the kitchen, but just as Leanna opened her mouth to do just that, the shadow above rumbled out in a familiar voice, and left the Inquisitor a little taken aback when the ale cask just disappeared out of her arms and Hawke's swarthy countenance came into the light.

"Oh!" She hurried up the stairs, kicked the door closed behind her, and hurriedly wiped damp hands on her apron before pulling it off and tossing it behind her. "Hi," she finished with a small, nervous laugh, and quickly shoved a few dishes aside so he could place the cask on the counter. "And thank you. For the help, just now."

Turning, she fetched two large glasses and filled both, extending one to her guest with a little flourish. "Thank you for coming," she told him, dipping a slight curtsy. "Please, have a seat. I thought we might...might talk, a little. Without everyone hanging on every single word." Her eyes rolled at the notion.

Hawke was amused with how many times she'd thanked him in the span of roughly two minutes. Was the Inquisitor nervous? That was a funny thought considering they'd walked through the Fade and come out the other side. Dinner made her nervous.

Well, when Hawke saw the condition of the food, burnt but also raw he could see why she might be. Apparently, no one had ever taught the Inquisitor to cook.

"They don't hang on every word," he said as he sat down, leaning back in his seat and stretching his legs out. "Especially when I speak. Those who do listen roll their eyes a lot."

Hawke didn't blame them. He was inclined to say stupid things and make stupid jokes. Sometimes all on purpose because he really did like the scowl of annoyance that Cullen got. Hawke would never get tired of that.

[Eve is an OC based on the Bride from Frankenstein. She's not had much experience socializing with humans beyond brief interactions so anything more in-depth is sure to have her asking questions and learning.

Platonic or romance is both welcome! I'm happy to AU her into other canons as well.]

[AUs, canon and cross canon welcome! Platonic or romance is welcome as well.

Ashi is very inexperienced with the normalcy of every day domestic life so if you want a fish out of water sort of scenario, she's your type.]

[ A grouchy teenage mech pilot preparing to fight against the kaiju invading her world through the use of a giant robot known as a Sentinel. A mission gone horribly wrong left her with brain trauma that contributes to frequent pain and memory loss. Quiet, introverted grumpy girl who doesn't trust easily and reacts to people being nice to her like she's being offered a dead rat on a stick. Has a warm, compassionate fluffy center under the hundreds of layers of protective spikes and depression grime.

Info & permissions in journal! I'm happy to do a shippy or platonic take on this or even something with a found family angle and I'd also really love to play around in the canon epilogue timeframe with canonmates if there are any out there! ]

_{[ local "jrpg villain obsessed with never being vulnerable" extremely emotionally vexed and confused by how much he cares about. will be married to you in all but name for years before admitting to himself he like, love loves you. ]</sub}