"Aye, that you did. I'm not really surprised, but I am glad all the same." Sebastian can practically feel Granger's eyes on the back of his neck, probably wondering why Sebastian was getting friendly with another man instead of the list of women he was supposed to get close with. Bah.
My son.
Both brows raise at that, and he finds himself looking a little closer at the darling boy. "Well, I can certainly see he has your good looks," he joked amicably as he squats down once the boy is back on the ground.
The prince's smile is so warm as he regards him; "such fine manners as well. It is a pleasure to meet you, young Fabian. Your father is a dear friend of mine, and a good man." Crouched as he is, Sebastian still manages to give a little bow of his own.
Oh, bless his heart- that little gasp. Sebastian chuckles as he carefully takes the bow from his shoulder, holding it between them. "I do. This bow is very special too, it once belonged to my grandfather, who was also a Prince." He explains gently.
"I wouldn't miss a chance to see you compete," Cullen reassures, and he means it. Getting to see someone doing something they love, something they work hard to do well? It's a joy. Sebastian is justly proud of his skill with a bow and Cullen feels like its a privilege to see- even if it is a privilege he's sharing with everyone else come to the tourney.
"Thank you Serah Sebastian." Fabian says after his manners are complimented, his voice a little song-song like it's something taught during his lessons.
"The Chantry Sisters are very good at teaching letters, numbers and good manners aren't they?" Cullen says and Fabian nods before Sebastian moves and begins to take off his bow.
The little boy's brown eyes go as big as dinner plates when the bow is held out, and for a moment he reaches out his hand and then stops, looking up at Sebastian with stars glittering in his eyes.
"I hope to exceed any expectations you may have," the prince muses. While it may be considered a sin, or distasteful, to be overly arrogant about ones self; he truly could not help it when it came to archery. It was something he lived and breathed, trained until blood stained the wood of his arrows and the bowstring of his bow. Until he could hit targets even some trained archers would struggle with.
He took great pride in that.
But his thoughts turn to the small boy. Fabian. It was a good name. Taught by the Chantry Sisters as well, it makes him smile with approval.
Oh, but the wonder in those big, brown eyes. Sebastian chuckles raising the bow just enough so Fabian's outstretched hand could press against the well looked after wood.
"No, not magic. But my grandfather did get it blessed by the Revered Mother of the Starkhaven Chantry, when he was a young man." He explains, not even trying to hide the fondness in his tone, nor the pride that swells in his chest.
"I do not need Andraste to guide my shots, but I do hope she will smile down upon me during this competition."
Speaking of; a horn sounds to gather the competitors, and he straightens with a lopsided, boyish grin;
"Ah- I wish I could stay and chat a little longer, but we will have plenty of time." With a bow to Cullen and his son, the prince of Starkhaven turns on a graceful heel so he can take his place next to the line of men and women who were eager to compete in the first few rounds.
Not an ounce of nerves flit across handsome features, no. Ever the prince, Sebastian stands tall and confident as he tests the tautness of his bowstring, and making adjustments as his seneschal repeats the rules of the competition.
...Sebastian wasn't paying much attention, those wandering blue eyes finding themselves back to Cullen for a split moment, where he allows himself a moment of cheek, winking to the man before he turns to glance down the line, watching as each archer takes their turn.
"My only expectation is that you enjoy yourself." Cullen laughs in gentle reply, his eyes fond as they look at Sebastian. There's nothing wrong in knowing your own ability, or being proud of the work you have put into a skill. The Prince of Starkhaven is extremely capable, and there's no doubt in Cullen's mind that he will preform very well in this competition. He's looking forward to seeing it.
The old Templar's hand rests lightly on his son's shoulder, giving him a little extra reassurance when Sebastian speaks to him, the boy looking very serious when he gets to touch the bow, as if it is a responsibility and an honour, as if he too is being blessed by a Reverand Mother for some great undertaking.
"I think Andraste will like watching you shoot!" He exclaims, unable to hold it in much longer, and Cullen can't help but chuckle with fondness.
"I think she will." He agrees, and meets Sebastian's eye as the Prince bows, returning it with a slight pinkness in his cheeks - a ruler of the city certainly has no need to bow to him, or his boy, but there's something to that gesture that warms Cullen from the inside out.
As Sebastian goes to line up with the other archers, Cullen scoops Fabian again, brings him back up to his shoulders so the little one gets the best view.
"Remember, we stay quiet before they shoot, because they need to focus. But once they have let loose the arrow, then we can cheer, alright? And we can cheer the loudest for the prince." He explains, and he feels Fabian nod, no doubt wearing that serious expression he is so familiar with across those round features.
That's when he notices Sebastian's face turned towards them, and he waves, then sees Sebastian wink in reply, and that heat rises in Cullen's cheeks once more.
Sebastian wasn't expecting the blush, how handsome it coloured the Commander's already incredibly attractive features. The prince nearly finds himself staring, until he hears a throat being cleared and the announcer calls for the archers to ready their bows.
A series of fwips and the proceeding thumps when targets are hit soon followed.
Cheering breaks through the crowd and a few gasps. Most of those competing hit their respective targets, but two stood out above the rest. Sebastian, naturally, hit his bullseye right in the middle. And... two archers to his right, so did another.
That lit the fire of competition in him as they all readied another arrow.
Second volley sent another rain of projectiles whirring through the air.
Sebastian's hit right next to his first- neatly in the middle, and he affords himself a smug little smirk. Murmurs, excited and awed, brought him curiously peering to the others and their targets... only to observe another identical shot.
Out of all those gathered, it was himself and a bright-eyed young man; eyes green and mirthful with a cocky smirk on roguish lips, who were tied. Sebastian's jaw tightened as the young man called out down the line;
"You alright there, prince? Maybe keep an eye on your target, wouldn't want you to lose." The Starkhaven prince knew the accent, the boy must be from Ostwick and the teasing made him square up his shoulders with a scoff.
"Mayhaps the young lad should keep to his own advice. Two lucky shots do not beget a third," he quipped back as he turned those blue eyes back on the target ahead of him. The prince was used to being antagonized by the likes of Varric and Anders, he was not going to let some mouthy lad from Ostwick ruin his chances of victory.
Three rounds. Three arrows.
Usually these competitions felt boring for the prince; he had been practising archery seriously every since he could draw a bow, never skipping a day. Winning was always a guarantee and the competition tended to err on the side of... nonexistent.
Now? Now he had a cheeky upstart who was winning the crowd over with his roguish antics and his, admittedly, exceptional skill.
Sebastian wasn't nervous, he was excited, as the tip of his tongue darted out to wet his lips as he gauged where he wanted to shoot next. When the announcer raised his arm he drew his arrow back with an intensity that made his shoulders ache.
As soon as the call came out to shoot, Sebastian let his arrow fly.
The audience was quiet through the shots- until the sound of wood splintering made those in attendance break out into raucous cheers. Sebastian's third arrow joined the other two, except he had split his first, nestling both in the same exact bullseye right in the middle.
The lad from Ostwick? A hair away from the middle ring. Leaving him one point behind Sebastian, yet both of them were leagues ahead of the others.
The applause and cheering fell dead on his ears, as all he could hear was the blood rushing in his veins, his heartbeat growing wild with competition. Only for him to snap out of it when he was ushered away from the field so the workers of the event could clear the targets and set up the horseback course.
A good time for an intermission, Sebastian needed to walk off this excited energy a bit before the riding came. It would take fifteen to twenty to get everything ready. A few audience members breaking away for refreshments, or to turn towards one another excitedly- they weren't expecting such a close competition this year either.
The prince? Thanked his seneschal for his water-skin, before he mindlessly found himself trotting towards his favourite Ferelden's, blue eyes bright as he regarded both father and son.
"That lad is giving me a run for my money- are you both enjoying yourselves? I can get us a little treat to pass the time."
Cullen holds onto his little boy's legs, the boy cheering and clapping so excitedly from where he is perched on Cullen's shoulders, his father is momentarily worried he'll fall right off.
"How is the Prince doing?" He asks, and Fabian leans forward to rest his face against his father's hair.
"He hit it! One, two, three times!"
"That's very good. We'll have to ask him to show us, won't we?"
He feels Fabian nod into his hair, and then this part of the competition is over, and the crowd moves excitedly as the set up for the next part begins. Cullen doesn't expect Sebastian to come back to meet them, but he sees the Prince heading towards them and he can't help smile and move towards the edge of the crowd.
"A bit of healthy competition is good for you." Cullen says, "But you seem to be taking this in your stride." He really does make it look effortless. Cullen is a strong man, he has worn plate armour most of his life, he carries a sword and shield into battle. But he knows he couldn't pull back a bow string like Sebastian Vael.
"I was going to offer to get you something, but if you know what tourney food is the best, we will happily take the recommendation."
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Maker help him.
"Aye, that you did. I'm not really surprised, but I am glad all the same." Sebastian can practically feel Granger's eyes on the back of his neck, probably wondering why Sebastian was getting friendly with another man instead of the list of women he was supposed to get close with. Bah.
My son.
Both brows raise at that, and he finds himself looking a little closer at the darling boy. "Well, I can certainly see he has your good looks," he joked amicably as he squats down once the boy is back on the ground.
The prince's smile is so warm as he regards him; "such fine manners as well. It is a pleasure to meet you, young Fabian. Your father is a dear friend of mine, and a good man." Crouched as he is, Sebastian still manages to give a little bow of his own.
Oh, bless his heart- that little gasp. Sebastian chuckles as he carefully takes the bow from his shoulder, holding it between them. "I do. This bow is very special too, it once belonged to my grandfather, who was also a Prince." He explains gently.
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"Thank you Serah Sebastian." Fabian says after his manners are complimented, his voice a little song-song like it's something taught during his lessons.
"The Chantry Sisters are very good at teaching letters, numbers and good manners aren't they?" Cullen says and Fabian nods before Sebastian moves and begins to take off his bow.
The little boy's brown eyes go as big as dinner plates when the bow is held out, and for a moment he reaches out his hand and then stops, looking up at Sebastian with stars glittering in his eyes.
"Is it magic?"
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He took great pride in that.
But his thoughts turn to the small boy. Fabian. It was a good name. Taught by the Chantry Sisters as well, it makes him smile with approval.
Oh, but the wonder in those big, brown eyes. Sebastian chuckles raising the bow just enough so Fabian's outstretched hand could press against the well looked after wood.
"No, not magic. But my grandfather did get it blessed by the Revered Mother of the Starkhaven Chantry, when he was a young man." He explains, not even trying to hide the fondness in his tone, nor the pride that swells in his chest.
"I do not need Andraste to guide my shots, but I do hope she will smile down upon me during this competition."
Speaking of; a horn sounds to gather the competitors, and he straightens with a lopsided, boyish grin;
"Ah- I wish I could stay and chat a little longer, but we will have plenty of time." With a bow to Cullen and his son, the prince of Starkhaven turns on a graceful heel so he can take his place next to the line of men and women who were eager to compete in the first few rounds.
Not an ounce of nerves flit across handsome features, no. Ever the prince, Sebastian stands tall and confident as he tests the tautness of his bowstring, and making adjustments as his seneschal repeats the rules of the competition.
...Sebastian wasn't paying much attention, those wandering blue eyes finding themselves back to Cullen for a split moment, where he allows himself a moment of cheek, winking to the man before he turns to glance down the line, watching as each archer takes their turn.
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The old Templar's hand rests lightly on his son's shoulder, giving him a little extra reassurance when Sebastian speaks to him, the boy looking very serious when he gets to touch the bow, as if it is a responsibility and an honour, as if he too is being blessed by a Reverand Mother for some great undertaking.
"I think Andraste will like watching you shoot!" He exclaims, unable to hold it in much longer, and Cullen can't help but chuckle with fondness.
"I think she will." He agrees, and meets Sebastian's eye as the Prince bows, returning it with a slight pinkness in his cheeks - a ruler of the city certainly has no need to bow to him, or his boy, but there's something to that gesture that warms Cullen from the inside out.
As Sebastian goes to line up with the other archers, Cullen scoops Fabian again, brings him back up to his shoulders so the little one gets the best view.
"Remember, we stay quiet before they shoot, because they need to focus. But once they have let loose the arrow, then we can cheer, alright? And we can cheer the loudest for the prince." He explains, and he feels Fabian nod, no doubt wearing that serious expression he is so familiar with across those round features.
That's when he notices Sebastian's face turned towards them, and he waves, then sees Sebastian wink in reply, and that heat rises in Cullen's cheeks once more.
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Sebastian wasn't expecting the blush, how handsome it coloured the Commander's already incredibly attractive features. The prince nearly finds himself staring, until he hears a throat being cleared and the announcer calls for the archers to ready their bows.
A series of fwips and the proceeding thumps when targets are hit soon followed.
Cheering breaks through the crowd and a few gasps. Most of those competing hit their respective targets, but two stood out above the rest. Sebastian, naturally, hit his bullseye right in the middle. And... two archers to his right, so did another.
That lit the fire of competition in him as they all readied another arrow.
Second volley sent another rain of projectiles whirring through the air.
Sebastian's hit right next to his first- neatly in the middle, and he affords himself a smug little smirk. Murmurs, excited and awed, brought him curiously peering to the others and their targets... only to observe another identical shot.
Out of all those gathered, it was himself and a bright-eyed young man; eyes green and mirthful with a cocky smirk on roguish lips, who were tied. Sebastian's jaw tightened as the young man called out down the line;
"You alright there, prince? Maybe keep an eye on your target, wouldn't want you to lose." The Starkhaven prince knew the accent, the boy must be from Ostwick and the teasing made him square up his shoulders with a scoff.
"Mayhaps the young lad should keep to his own advice. Two lucky shots do not beget a third," he quipped back as he turned those blue eyes back on the target ahead of him. The prince was used to being antagonized by the likes of Varric and Anders, he was not going to let some mouthy lad from Ostwick ruin his chances of victory.
Three rounds. Three arrows.
Usually these competitions felt boring for the prince; he had been practising archery seriously every since he could draw a bow, never skipping a day. Winning was always a guarantee and the competition tended to err on the side of... nonexistent.
Now? Now he had a cheeky upstart who was winning the crowd over with his roguish antics and his, admittedly, exceptional skill.
Sebastian wasn't nervous, he was excited, as the tip of his tongue darted out to wet his lips as he gauged where he wanted to shoot next. When the announcer raised his arm he drew his arrow back with an intensity that made his shoulders ache.
As soon as the call came out to shoot, Sebastian let his arrow fly.
The audience was quiet through the shots- until the sound of wood splintering made those in attendance break out into raucous cheers. Sebastian's third arrow joined the other two, except he had split his first, nestling both in the same exact bullseye right in the middle.
The lad from Ostwick? A hair away from the middle ring. Leaving him one point behind Sebastian, yet both of them were leagues ahead of the others.
The applause and cheering fell dead on his ears, as all he could hear was the blood rushing in his veins, his heartbeat growing wild with competition. Only for him to snap out of it when he was ushered away from the field so the workers of the event could clear the targets and set up the horseback course.
A good time for an intermission, Sebastian needed to walk off this excited energy a bit before the riding came. It would take fifteen to twenty to get everything ready. A few audience members breaking away for refreshments, or to turn towards one another excitedly- they weren't expecting such a close competition this year either.
The prince? Thanked his seneschal for his water-skin, before he mindlessly found himself trotting towards his favourite Ferelden's, blue eyes bright as he regarded both father and son.
"That lad is giving me a run for my money- are you both enjoying yourselves? I can get us a little treat to pass the time."
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"How is the Prince doing?" He asks, and Fabian leans forward to rest his face against his father's hair.
"He hit it! One, two, three times!"
"That's very good. We'll have to ask him to show us, won't we?"
He feels Fabian nod into his hair, and then this part of the competition is over, and the crowd moves excitedly as the set up for the next part begins. Cullen doesn't expect Sebastian to come back to meet them, but he sees the Prince heading towards them and he can't help smile and move towards the edge of the crowd.
"A bit of healthy competition is good for you." Cullen says, "But you seem to be taking this in your stride." He really does make it look effortless. Cullen is a strong man, he has worn plate armour most of his life, he carries a sword and shield into battle. But he knows he couldn't pull back a bow string like Sebastian Vael.
"I was going to offer to get you something, but if you know what tourney food is the best, we will happily take the recommendation."