Imprints in Stone [AU]

[Carver Amell]

Real whiskey! Carver is awed for one brief moment. I won't let you down, sir. I will prove myself, prove I can handle it.

He takes a small sip, determined to like it despite the strange, bitter taste. "I am having some trouble with the woman," he says, trying to sound sophisticated. "You know how that is, I'm sure."

[Varric]

Too much, pup, too much. "Relax," he says kindly. "No need for airs among... Varric hesitates, surprised that family is the word that comes to mind. "Friends. Family friend even. Anyway, what's the trouble?"

[Carver Amell]

"It's just-- she likes me. A lot. And I like her." He gets a doofy grin on his face. "A lot." 

Then he shakes his head. "But I won't make any bastards. We-- Marian said you had some books or something about, uh, not making babies. Is... Are the rumors true?"

[Varric]

Save me from adolescents disturbingly obsessed with sex. Should have guessed, I suppose, just following the pattern really. "I've some healer texts that touch on such things, yes. Nothing... focused on it though. How's your kendish? Best medical texts around come from the Trade Caravans."

[Carver Amell]

That's a language, right? "... Not great. So, the rumors though, are they-- I heard if you, ahem, from behind, it won't...?"

[Varric]

Alright, not sure why I thought otherwise. Wait, what? "That doesn't-" Well, technically- "Depends on how you mean that. Okay, let's start simple: what do you know about how babies are invoked? 

[Carver Amell]

"It... Has to do with sex," confesses Carver, a blush spreading across his cheeks.

[Varric]

After waiting a moment for more, Varric winces, just a hair, when nothing follows. "Alright... From the top then, I guess." What is wrong with this little shit hamlet? "We'll begin with anatomy. I'll assume you know your own, ah, bits. But names. Penis formal, most call it a dick or cock. When you... finish," no, do this right or not at all (that's an option? (No)).

 "When you orgasim or climax, slang is cum, your penis will produce a clear fluid with milky white particulates- very, very small bits- suspended in it." Varric pauses to take several sips of his drink, wishing he could drain it.

[Carver Amell]

Carver scowls. "Yes, yes, I know all that. And she's got a cunt and we, you know, fuck." He gestures with his hands, one finger going into a ring made by the other hand. "I just didn't want to get her pregnant on accident."

[Varric]

"Just making sure we're on the same page with terminology and names. Prevents misunderstanding. As a note, most women don't like that word for their bits. Flower or womanhood works for most 'nice' girls. Or cleft. Anyway," Varric clears his throat, sips again. "That fluid? That holds the man's essence, which if it gets inside the woman's flower, can make a baby. Not guaranteed, but could. Some couples can ... go a hundred times without anything coming from it. Other times, a single drop can do it. Best to assume it'll work the way you most don't want it to."

[Carver Amell]

Carver looks aghast. "So -- we can't fuck at all? But Drake said--"

[Varric]

"Not without risk, no. Well, not, ah, standard vaginal sex." He repeats Carver's "ring and finger' gesture to be clear. "What Drake was probably referring to is anal sex- putting your cock in her," or his, "butt. Which has some issues and complications of its own."

[Carver Amell]

Carver blinks, sitting up a bit straighter. "You can do that? Won't you get, you know, shit on your...." He guestures vaguely downward.

[Varric]

Why is this my life? "That'd be one of the complications, yes. There are ways to clean it out first. Some just clean up after, I've hear told," Varric allows. "You, uh, might be more comfortable with oral sex. Less painful I hear anyway. Anal has to be done just right."

[Carver Amell]

Carver blinks. "What's an oral?"