#rowan pov bc i’m familiar with that level or pining and repression and stubbornness

[makersbreathchild]

but what if i just like. what if i just dropped my really shitty unfinished fanfiction here too (it doesn’t even have punctuation)

“i don’t trust you,” rowan says.

katriel hums and rolls her eyes. the elf’s blonde lashes flutter with the movement and rowan is suddenly more annoyed than she thought she’d be. that’s what this constant frustration with katriel is, right? annoyance?

“you have made your distrust abundantly clear since we met. despite all you must think of me, you do not think i am blind, do you? or deaf?”

rowan scowls. “a reminder doesn’t hurt. give me one reason and i’ll—“

“what? run me through?” katriel steps closer, so close rowan can count the freckles on her on cheeks. the elf flicks her gaze up, her face a perfect mask of disinterest. how orlesian it is for katriel to hide her feelings in such a way. rowan hates it. “you wouldn’t. not unless the prince allowed it.”

rowan steels herself and tries to slow her breathing. she refuses to be cowed. she is not intimidated by katriel.

“i—“ rowan says, tilting her head down slightly to close the already small gap of distance. she can feel katriel’s breath on her skin. “—do not take orders from maric. not in this. not when he is so clearly biased.”

“and what of you?”

“me?”

“are you not biased of me, princess?”

rowan flushes something fierce at the term.

“i am not a princess.”

“you are to be wed to the prince are you not?” katriel hums. “future-queen then, but it does not hold the same, je ne sais quoi.”

“find your point before i do it for you.”

“you may be jealous, princess, because you believe your prince to be allured by someone else.” katriel crosses her arms. “i make no claims to the—to maric. he is yours in every way that matters.”

“you think me a silly headed maiden?”

“i think you a strong warrior, my princess. a strong warrior with a strong heart and strong convictions.” katriel steps away, back turned to rowan. “pray they do not lead you to needless anguish.”

.

(okay and here rowan just sparred with maric or loghain (they’re unimportant) and katriel is down bad)

.

“you are…” katriel loses her tongue for a moment, her jaw having dropped slightly. she seems to find it and cringes at having lost it in the first place. “you are quite skilled, my princess. i had not seen you fight until now.”

rowan looks at katriel. she heaves from the spar’s exertion and wipes at her brow. her body heats though moreso from katriel’s gaze than the blood rush. “we have fought together before, elf.”

“yes, but i had not watched you as closely. it is a fascinating experience. watching you work.” katriel’ls eyes drag from rowan’s head all the way down to her toes and she can feel all of it.

rowan takes a rag from her pack and hides her face in it, still panting. “save the flattery for someone who needs it.”

“my flattery is free, princess.” a smile tugs at katriel’s lips and rowan can’t quite read its meaning. “it is good to know how aware you are of your finer qualities, i suppose.”

rowan scoffs, but says nothing. more because…because she is simply unable to, in the face of such praise.

the silence drags and just as katriel turns away rowan finds her courage.

“you are skilled as well, eh—katriel.” the name is foreign on rowan’s tongue and it sends a shiver up her spine just to say it. “you are by far the most graceful person i’ve met. you move with an envious amount of purpose.”

katriel pauses, as if she isn’t sure she heard rowan correctly. “i am…graceful?”

“it’s a compliment!”

“i am aware, my princess, it is only suprising to hear it from you.”

“oh shove off.”

“a pleasant surprise, my lady.” katriel steps closer untill she is standing over rowan’s sitting form. in this position, rowan must tilt her head up to look at katriel and the thought is a interesting one. she feels small, under katriel’s gaze, but not in a fearful sense. rowan feels small enough to sit in the palm of katriel’s hand. small enough to be seen by her and only her. small enough to be—

“it’s good to know i surprises you. someone should keep you on your toes.”

“oh, you do that plenty already.”

“truly?”

“truly.”

“katriel—“

“rowan.”

their faces are but an inch away now. rowan’s head clears of all thoughts and she swears she’s bot breathing. she wants to be closer, but then they’d be…and that doesn’t- it doesn’t make any sense—

“rowan! katriel!” loghains voice breaks the moment and katriel is already turned off towards the sound. rowan huffs and pushes to her feet.

it’s not like anything was interrupted.

this goes out to the two people that read the stolen throne (me and my sister) and an extra extra shoutout to the person who actually ships rowan and katriel (myself)

this is for ME