Archer by *RavenousDrake
Anders put that down before he sees you. You know it’ll only upset him.
"Anders… what are you doing with my bow?"
To his credit the mage did not flinch, did not break his stance as he kept his eyes on the target. He did manage a smirk before he let the arrow fly, truer than expected but still hitting his mark. He turned to watch the archer’s reaction to his shot, a grin lighting up his features.
"Practicing, what does it look like?"
Sebastian cocked his head to the side, mildly impressed with his form but curious as to why he’d want to take up the bow when he had the forces of nature at his command.
"But why use my bow? What if you’d broken it? It’s not like it can be easily repaired or replaced. There are plenty others here if you felt the urge to try your hand at archery."
The mage blushed, he didn’t know how to explain that using the same bow as the archer made his hand steady, feeling the same grooves under his fingers that Sebastian’s have been slotted into not long before was comforting as he let his mind focus on aiming, then the shot.
How the scented oil reminded him of the prince in ways he was sure the noble born rogue would not approve of. Instead he gave him his bow with a small dip of his head and a muttered apology as tried to leave. His escape was thwarted by a strong hand around his wrist.
"Come now, I didn’t want you to stop practicing; just …this is all I have to remind me of my grandfather, of home. Please use another bow, or…we can go find you one that suits you better than mine at the marketplace."
The offer was met with surprise in honey brown eyes that slid away, unsure how to respond to such unexpected generosity. He gave him a wan smile and another half bow to the prince before he answered.
"That won’t be necessary, the buying me a bow. I will use another here… it’s merely something to do to pass the time. I’ll never be an archer like you or Varric. If you wish to… that is if you are willing to help me with my form, I wouldn’t mind your company."
That startled the prince into letting go of Anders. He didn’t expect that, especially since they truly got on like oil and water some days. He nodded and followed Anders over to where the rest of the weapons were stored at Hawke’s place, surprised once again when the mage moved aside to ask for his help in picking a bow.
"You’re the expert on this."
He shoved his shock aside and went over the longer bows, he would need something close to his own heirloom bow because of his height. Sebastian forgot on occasion that Anders was taller than him, taller than everyone but Hawke actually.
He finally found a bow that suited. Long, elegantly curved, not too ornate and a lovely dark wood that shone in the sun’s rays. He strung it quickly and made sure it was taut enough for their lesson. He handed it over to the mage, walked him back to where he had been before and asked to see his form. That began a very long afternoon of correction, aiming, shooting, a bit of arguing …but surprisingly enough a lot of touching.
Anders was surprised he hadn’t flinched away from the rogue’s touches. While he was not as opposed to casual touch as the elven warrior among them, he wasn’t as open as he used to be. He smiled when Sebastian realized just how closely he’d held the mage in order to correct his posture before having him aim again and again.
"I don’t bite you know."
"It’s not right to …touch you so intimately, we are not…"
"You can’t teach me from a distance Sebastian. It’s not as if I expect you to toss me to the ground and fuck me after a few touches."
Anders let the arrow fly, and turned to see that Sebastian had turned a very interesting shade of red, a flush that countered the dark red of his hair and the intense blue of his eyes. Hmm, his arrow may have hit more than just the mark with that last remark.
"I think that’s enough for today serah. I’ll return tomorrow if you are willing to continue our lessons. I had… fun."
"As did I. Tomorrow then?"
"Tomorrow." Anders left him standing in the courtyard of Hawke’s estate, a wicked gleam in his eye and a plan forming in his head.
The prince left his friends home to return to his cell in the Chantry and pray… a lot.