exsiliumlogs | only this moment holds us together;

I believe you may be the first person to ever thank me for a few kisses. [Zevran teases, pushing her hair out of her face a little and kissing her on each cheek.] Usually that comes after the orgasms, yes?

[She laughs, just a touch of pink settling on her ears. Elissa takes his hands gently and presses her lips to his knuckles.]

I wasn't thanking you for those...though I suppose I should, come to think of it. I've never kissed an Antivan before. [Never really kissed anyone like that besides Alistair, actually, which brings up other thoughts that she's glad to push away. There's no need for bitterness now.]

And I should think you will not be kissing many more, lest you make me tremendously jealous. [Zevran smirks, wagging a finger at her then tapping her nose.

He is giddy, dizzied almost, by the change of events. Some part of him is still convinced it isn't real, and that he ought to snatch up this moment while he can. Tomorrow Elissa might come to her senses. He leans in closer, hoping to capture another kiss, when he realizes something very strange.

He doesn't want it to be like that. Of course he's known he loves her for some time, and it appears she may return his affection. But he doesn't want this to be a night of passion with nothing to follow, even if it is an extraordinarily good night.

This frightens him immensely. In fact, he feels like the ceiling might drop out of the room. Zevran forms his words carefully.]

I have a policy of being very direct with my lovers. Sex is only good when both parties are ready and willing, and can speak freely of their needs.

And sex is only worth it if it is good.

[He pauses, perhaps a little bit too long: there's a 'but' he can't force out, and he is worried, suddenly, that she will be disappointed. All his typical grandeur is gone in the work of that moment, and he is softer, quieter than usual.]

I wish for you to stay here tonight... but I would hate to give you a performance that was less than my best, shall we say.

[The simple fact of the matter is he doesn't know how to have a relationship without sex deeply entangled. And why would he ever need to? Yet Zevran is still sorting through this confusion about the whole matter, and while he is elated at their new found connection it is still fraught with all sorts of stress.

Zevran still does not know how to think of himself as more than a tool of conveyance, in many ways, whether it's death or pleasure.]

I hope that is not disappointing, and that you will stay regardless.

Edited (oh i don't know i wanted this to be extra-sad) 2013-04-04 05:56 (UTC)

[Her smile is lopsided for a moment and she chuckles. What other Antivan could there be for her? And, more importantly, who else would she rather other than him?]

I won't be doing that. This I swear.

[It is a little strange to see Zevran so out of his element, the man who spoke of passion so often back in Ferelden. But he had meant physical, not this, and so it's no surprise. Elissa is hardly confident at the moment either and she does not begrudge his tentativeness.

Her hands tighten on his and she nods. Her mouth opens and closes once in turn, uncertainty filtering into her expression. But it's not what he's said that leaves her hesitant but what she wishes to say.

At length, she nods again, voice softer:]

I don't need the sex, Zevran. I just...want you and whatever you want to give. That's enough for me.

[There, it's been said. She can't take it back now. Her fingers tighten once more on his hands at the thought, at the idea that he might back out, but she refuses to give any ground.

She swallows and releases a soft breath, unaware until then how hard her heart is beating in her chest.]

I'd still like to stay with you tonight.

Edited (you know what I'm adding stuff fight me) 2013-04-04 06:38 (UTC)

Ah. Good. I.

[He's a bit stunned. He is not sure what he expected. Elissa is not the type to frivolously hand out her affections, after all - it is probably why she favored Alistair in the first place. Don't think of Alistair, his friend. Elissa was already thinking to make him king, and while Zevran does not the future of their relationship, it is clear Elissa is not with him here.

She is no one's but her own, and he trusts she would not betray their friend, nor expect Zevran to.

And if he is wrong he still loves Elissa more than he's fond of Alistair, so.

Zevran does pull away now, to pace the tiny length of his room a moment and catch his breath. Finally he goes for the door, unlocking it. Nervous energy buzzes through him like a lightning spell. He is as anxious as he was the night of his first true kill.]

I suppose we might talk a bit, before we sleep. [He feels like he could talk all evening, and yet he cannot find those first words. He cannot begin to be brave enough to ask why me?] Water, I think, for me at least.

[He might have been more prepared for her to ignore his lack of sexual desire, for this to devolve into the more expected thing. But she instead respects his wishes, and he is uncertain how to proceed.

All of this is new. For all he claims to understand the nature and hearts of others, he is completely out of his league. Zevran scurries to the kitchen. The bedroom was feeling suffocating.]

Edited 2013-04-04 06:56 (UTC)

[She nods and lets him go. Instead of following him to the kitchen, crowding him, she remains seated on the bed and looks around. She feels more out of her element than she's ever been before, even back at camp with Alistair. At least then, she could give them the excuse that they were children, that they thought they would die any day, and that it was, eventually, fleeting.

But she can't say that here. She's had two years to miss Zevran, months to articulate her feelings for him.

Elissa stands and paces the length of the room, arms crossed, gnawing at her bottom lip in thought. She's not backing out. She can be patient. But it almost seems so juvenile, the two of them fumbling over words and talking to one another as if they're both children courting for the first time.

...In essence, she supposes they are.

She laughs quietly, gazing about the small room, tidy and uniform, and shakes her head.

What are we even doing?

Scrubbing at her forehead, she finally relents to at least take her outer jacket off and set it aside. For now, she won't be needing it.]

[Zevran returns with glasses of water for them both, settling down next to her after he hands Elissa her share. This is awkward, for so many reasons. He isn't dressed to impress anyone, wearing his favored yoga skirt and pants and a loose scoop-necked shirt over, soft things that hide his knives deceptively well. His boots are by the door - he tends to go barefoot in the apartment. All in all, it's hardly the clothes for a date, in fact it's pretty clear he had no plans for more than reading a few books and heading to bed.

He presses a kiss to her cheek, almost playful, then sips his water.]

I am afraid I must ask you... what exactly brought this on? I had completely convinced myself we would and could not happen.

[She takes the glass with a quiet thanks, letting him sit beside her. Unlike him, she's dressed more like a squire, with leggings and a tunic that only fits well enough to be used in practice and little else. It's one of two she has from home, a comfort and familiar.

Elissa takes a moment to slide her own shoes and socks off, giving the impression that she truly isn't going to leave, not unless he asks it of her. The question makes her shift a little.]

I had thought so too, truth be told.

[She will disappear to parts unknown and he... Will she just leave him alone?]

But I thought it would be more cruel to say something, to give you an idea and then not have anything come of it. I kept quiet. I still think it's selfish of me. [She shakes her head.] But I thought that I would regret not saying anything more should either of us disappear.

Ah, mi amore! [Zevran hugs her fiercely.] Truth be told, it was torture to think we could never be together... so even if it is only for now, in this place, I am gladdened.

[He strokes her cheek with gentle fingertips, looking into her eyes.] So what if you are selfish now and again? Everything you do, everything you have done, has been for the sake of others. I am happy to be yours, you needn't ever deny yourself anything of me.

All you ever have to do is ask.

[Without meaning to, Zevran offers himself with utter, blind devotion: it is easier, perhaps, though he does not notice he is still treating himself as a thing.]

[She's a bit startled by the hug, blinking owlishly at him.]

But it's not enough, Zevran. It's only for a little time and that's not fair to you.

[Elissa has been raised in a world of noblemen, riches, lavish things. He has not. It's not fair and will never be to allow him some small measure of happiness only to take it from him. And she will be the cause, something she had promised herself she would never do.]

No, I... Zev. [She reaches up to take his face gently in her hands, shaking her head as she does so.] What I've done... It doesn't justify me taking anything from anyone. Not from you. Not from my friends.

[And may the Maker help her, as she's already done that too many times.]

I'm not perfect. I've done terrible things. You're not something I 'deserve'. You are a person and someone I... [Shit, that word again.] Your wishes matter to me.

Isn't a little time better than no time at all?

[Zevran places his hand over hers on his face, raising an eyebrow.] And do I seem like the sort of man who cares what sort of terrible things you have done? Being alive is terrible. In order to survive, in order to do what must be done, we do the sort of things condemned by those who never have to make those choices.

Besides, when it gets right down to it? There are many times, when we have traveled, where I thought you took the more soft-hearted option. I would have been far more wretched and ruthless.

You say my wishes matter, then listen to me. Who would want a perfect lover? That would be entirely boring. I do not care for you because you are perfect, but because when I see you, you are perfect to me.

[She meets his gaze briefly and she shifts, expression uncertain. At last, she huffs out something that could be a laugh, one hand dropping from his face to his shoulder. She squeezes, a small smile attempting to make its way onto her face.]

Seems like you are a lot better at this than I am.

[She believes Zevran...but he's wrong. What she's done is enough to bring the whole world to its knees. However, this isn't the time to discuss it.]

I'd rather have any time with you that I can, you're right. I just...didn't know if it was right or if it was something you wanted.

And while I was puzzled that you could resist my charms, I took it in good stride. I did not think you were interested.

[Zevran drinks his water down, setting it on the night stand.

He does not fully admit the truth, that he assumed she could not want him because they were such intimate friends. She only has a little taste of just how wretched his existence has been. Why would a woman of noble birth ever want an elf born in a brothel, used every moment of his life? She says she wants him to be free, he thinks she pities him.]

I am glad we have cleared up that misunderstanding. [Zevran gently carts his fingers through her hair, catching the tie and tugging it gently.] --May I?

I wouldn't say I resisted your charms so much as I grew used to them. I thought you were simply joking.

[He flirted with so many people. And as they grew closer and the flirtations continued, it really simply seemed to her that it was old habit instead of anything more. His affection and his friendship had always been genuine. But deeper feelings... They had eluded her, just as she denied her own.

Elissa gives him a smile and nods.] Of course you can.

[Zevran pulls her hair free of the tie, watching it spill like fire over her shoulders. It is lovely to see her hair like this, up close and fragrant rather than matted with blood. He runs his fingers through it, silently admiring for a long time. And then--]

Tch, you really should trim your splint ends, you know, darling.

[She watches him, nearly sensing exactly what he's thinking. Not so long ago, she could never go a day without getting blood all over her, either from darkspawn or enemies. Exsilium's at least given her - and him, too - a reprieve from all of that.

Elissa huffs softly, taking a strand in her hand.]

I haven't cut it in nearly two and a half years.

I am going to trim it. I have some very sharp scissors, snip-snip. [Zevran mimes scissoring with his fingers, and then laughs, kissing her forehead.] We start small, with the hair... perhaps in time you will let me give you a tattoo? [He says it as a joke. Mostly.] Oh, we might want to make sure we are sexually compatible before then, I suppose.

[Zevran looks thoughtful.]

Though I have not really met someone I wasn't sexually compatible with...

Edited 2013-04-07 07:11 (UTC)

I didn't know you were a barber too, Zev. [Her smile widens slightly at the mention of a tattoo.] Oh? What sort of tattoo are you thinking of?

[Elissa manages a laugh, leaning over to kiss beside his mouth.]

I don't think we'll need to worry about that part too much. Just a feeling.

I am whatever the moment requires of me, amore.

[He laughs too, turning slightly so their lips meet for a second kiss.] What sort of tattoo would you like? Dog tattoos are popular with Fereldens, no? We could tattoo your hound's face right here... [Zevran prods the small of her back.] Or here! [On her shoulder.]

Of course, tattoos are a bit like Antivan lovers. They leave their mark, and become a little addictive...

[She draws away so she can laugh, the sound a little stronger, the strain from earlier disappearing little by little.]

Yes, highly attractive to have a dog's face on my back. [It's...very telling of her lineage that she's considering it.] But tattoos are supposed to be reminders.

[She'd seen some of the men and women at Ostagar branding themselves. It was a symbol of their unity, of remembrance for those who may fall. She would always remember her first bonded mabari, though she should think of something for him as well.]

Addictive, hm? [She smiles.] What about something of yours? So that when I return, regardless of what happens, there's something there so I know to find you.

Then I will have to figure out where on the body it should go. I will have to examine every inch of you to find the right spot.

And you will have to examine each of my tattoos - to see if there's something that catches your eye. To give us some ideas.

But if we go that route, it should be something that matches, yes? [He laughs, pushing Elissa's hair behind her ears.] But I warn you, a tattoo is quite permanent. It is a bond that cannot be erased. Like a scar, but one of your choosing. You must be ready for it.

[Oh yes, no innuendo there. She smiles.]

Do you have many more besides the one? [She reaches up briefly to touch her hand to his jaw, just beneath the lines on his face.]

I know it's permanent. [That's the entire point. But the way he says it, a scar of her choosing... Her smile doesn't quite falter, though she briefly leans into the touch of his hands.] When I'm ready, I'll tell you.

Yes, many. [Zevran shifts, scooting back a bit and turning. He lifts up his shirt to reveal his lower back piece - an intricate knot of swirls and almost abstract designs, working in balance with each other. Many patterns suggest the design of Crows or knives, but none is a specifically recognizable design, clearly symbolic. His back is well-scarred from lashings both at the ends of brothel workers and Crows, and there are slashes from swords and the like as well.]

This is the one that took the longest. Tattooing over scar tissue is difficult, alas, so we had to pick a lower spot than I would have liked.

[Elissa moves back so she can give him room, and her eyes are wide when Zevran shows her his back. The design is beautiful, intricate, and incredibly personal. She can see the knives and the birds - crows, she guesses - but they are so interwoven with other symbols that it's difficult to parse them out well enough to be discernible.

She reaches out hesitantly and brushes her fingers over some of the scars above the back design, frowning. Zevran has moved far past this time, yes, but the sight of them angers and reminds her of how sheltered she'd been before meeting him, before becoming a Warden. This sort of cruelty wouldn't stand with her.]

It's beautiful, Zevran. [Her thumb traces just above the design as if she's afraid that touching it would smear the ink, an impossible thing now.] As are you, of course, but you already know that.

--I do not mind hearing it again. [Zevran's voice is warm.] Alas, nothing I can do will be quite to this skill. The artisan who did most of this piece was in her sixties - might as well have been two hundred in Crow years. It would take me a very long time to get as good at it as she was. [Zevran peels his shirt entirely off, to show her the work on his arms.] This here, on my left, is my own work.

[The lines are actually quite skillful, and while they are not as elaborate, they are by no means amateur.]

only this moment holds us together;

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