ReubenLiew wrote...
What's not to like about that socially awkward stalker kid? ;D
The backbone of any society *salutes flag*
The Rescue -- Completed 8/1/11
Débuté par
Sialater
, janv. 17 2010 07:16
#276
Posté 12 février 2010 - 09:58
Herr Uhl
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The backbone of any society *salutes flag*
Retour en haut
#277
Posté 12 février 2010 - 10:15
Sialater
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What you've all been waiting for (or so I tell myself), the day Zev and Moira met.
Part 27
They only stayed the night in the village of Ember. Bathed, refreshed and resupplied, they crossed the Hundred Pillars. The pass did make traversing the range faster and easier than it otherwise might have been, but the trek was still arduous enough they didn’t camp for long stretches of time, eager to cover as much ground as possible and leave the mountains. They remained entirely unaccosted, even by wildlife, though Moira credited the Mabari’s tendency to mark his territory scrupulously and obsessively for that fact. They stopped for a longer rest after the journey through the mountains and Zevran recommended heading for a town called Perivantium in the southern part of the Imperium for another resupply.
Moira checked their lyrium supply that night and realized they were beginning to get fairly low. She hadn’t had to use too much, but even with slowly weaning Cullen off the stuff, their supply was dwindling.
At this night’s stop, Zevran had decided to go back to Cullen’s training, declaring there were still too many holes in the other man’s shield technique. Moira wondered if she should be disturbed by the assassin’s making decisions for their group, after all, she was supposed to be the Warden Commander. But she found she just didn’t have the strength or the desire to point out that she was supposed to be the leader. She was beginning to feel numb, the prolonged worry about Alistair and her frequent unproductive Fade visits to him were wearing on her.
As she watched the two practice, Zevran stopped the swordplay to point out a flaw in Cullen’s defense. She’d never have thought when she’d first met the assassin that he’d have become such a huge part of her life.
The ambush had been rather transparent, but she and Alistair had been trying to do the right thing, so they’d given the young female decoy the benefit of the doubt. They’d rounded the bend into the trap Zevran had set for them, his heavily accented voice shouting, “The Grey Warden dies here!”
Alistair glanced at her while drawing his sword, “Apparently, he can’t count.” Moira laughed, her adrenaline elevating and giving her the intense awareness of her companions she was slowly getting used to. After the fight, she, Alistair, Leliana and Morrigan had approached the body of the elf who had spoken.
The blond elf pushed himself up on his elbows, but went no further when the tip of Alistair’s blade touched his throat. He blinked heavily lashed hazel eyes and allowed them to follow the blade of the sword up the hilt to its owner and then from Alistair’s stony expression over to her face. His eyes widened in surprise, travelling from her face to her feet and back up, “Mmm…Oh…I rather thought I would wake up dead, or not wake up at all as the case may be. But I see you haven’t killed me yet.”
Moira crossed her arms, “That could be easily rectified.”
The assassin blinked, lazily, the eyelashes making dark half moons against his tanned skin. He met her eyes again. She felt something quite a bit lower than her heart react to his forward gaze. “Of that I have no doubt. You are most skilled. If you haven’t killed me however, you must have kept me alive for some purpose, yes? My name is Zevran - Zev to my friends. I am a member of the Antivan Crows, brought here for the sole purpose of slaying any surviving Grey Wardens. Which I have failed at, sadly.”
“Who hired you to kill us?” Moira demanded. She put her hand on Alistair’s arm to get him to move the sword away for the moment. She was unable to take her eyes off Zevran. She hadn’t met many elves since leaving the Tower, and certainly none of them were gutsy enough, or suicidal enough, to flirt with her while the big Templar at her side held them at sword point.
“A rather taciturn fellow in the capital; Loghain, I think his name was? Yes, that’s it.” Why did she think he was undressing her with his eyes?
“Does that mean you are loyal to Loghain?” Moira asked. She was proud of the steadiness of her voice, despite the fact that he was making her increasingly uncomfortable.
“I have no idea what his issues are with you. The usual I imagine – you threaten his power, yes? Beyond that no, I am not loyal to him. I was contracted to perform a service.” Alistair grunted beside her, and crossed his arms. She could almost sense her friend’s impatience.
“And now that you’ve failed that service?” Moira asked, her eyebrow raised
“Well, that’s between Loghain and the Crows, and the Crows and myself. Now, unless you are quite stuck on cutting my throat, or something equally gruesome, perhaps you’d care to hear a proposal?” He still hadn’t moved from his reclining position. Whether it was in some fashion to point out his assets, he did have beautiful eyes and a great set of shoulders, after all, or out of concern for making her heavily armed friends aggressive, she couldn’t say.
“You tried to kill me!” She told him.
“Unsuccessfully! Besides, someone in your position can’t take these things so personally, can you?” His eyes were still disconcertingly fixed on her face
“I’m listening,” Moira told him, trying to maintain her tough posture. She didn’t really think it was fooling anyone, she was about as intimidating as a field mouse.
“Well, since I failed to kill you, my life is forfeit. That’s how it works. The Crows will kill me. That is the way it is. The thing is, I like living. And you obviously are the sort to give the Crows pause. So, let me serve you instead. ” The assassin somehow managed to bow with a flourish from his stretched out position.
“You must think I’m royally stupid.” Moira said, narrowing her eyes at him. Andraste’s Ass, what was wrong with her that he was making her nervous and not in a I-just-tried-to-kill-you-way?
"I think you're royally tough to kill. And utterly gorgeous. Not that you'll respond to simple flattery. But there are worse things in life than serving the whims of a deadly sex goddess." Moira’s eyes widened at the blatant attempt to flirt. Was he really going to try for that obvious?
“And what could you offer me?” She kept her voice neutral, it was harder than it seemed. She felt like she was trying to navigate the rapids of the River Dane, or break a horse to saddle.
“Well, I am skilled at many things, from fighting, to picking locks, to stealth. I could also warn you if the Crows should decide to try something more… sophisticated, now that my attempts have failed. I could also stand around and look pretty if you prefer. Warm your bed, or fend off unwanted suitors, no?” His eyes flicked to Alistair’s face before being locked on hers again, direct and definitely unsubtle.
“Bed warming might be nice,” the reply came out of her mouth before she could stop it. She felt herself turn completely red from her chest to her forehead and heard Alistair’s strangled gasp beside her, and Morrigan’s snort and Leliana’s laugh of delight behind her.
“See? I knew we could find a common interest. Or two, or three. Really, I could go all night.” The incorrigible elf winked at her. “So, what shall it be? I’ll even shine armor. You won’t find a better deal, I promise!”
“Very well, I accept your offer,” Moira said, holding out her hand to help him up.
Zevran accepted her hand to stand up. His grip was warm and solid, his fingers long and flexible. He refused to release her hand at first, holding it in both of his and getting down on one knee and looking up at her through that fringe of lashes, “I hereby pledge my oath of loyalty to you, until such a time as you choose to release me from it. I am your man, without reservation... this I swear.” He kissed the back of her hand to seal his promise. Electricity shot through her arm and down her spine at the touch of those full lips.
And then, Alistair had picked a fight there, and later in camp, over allowing the assassin to join them. Arguing with Alistair as always made everyone fade into the background and left her with the feeling that it was only her and him against the world and each other. In order to argue about her choices in privacy they’d always gone a ways away from camp. This time, he’d grabbed her arm and hauled her away from their camp, ignoring their companions’ curious stares.
Angrily he’d released her and run his fingers through his hair, bending slightly to get in her face, “I can’t believe you allowed that – that criminal! To join us! How will you even be able to sleep at night, knowing he’s right there waiting to kill you!”
She’d crossed her arms and stood her ground, her feet planted, “What, are you not up to the task of protecting me?”
His blue eyes widened and he threw his hands up in the air and stepped back, “I’m trying to be serious, here!”
It was her turn to get in his face, or try to, given their height difference. She stepped forward and poked his armored chest with her forefinger, “So am I! The only people I absolutely trust in this camp are you and Wynne! Morrigan only looks out for herself, Sten doubts our competence, Leliana could decide to leave us because of another vision! What’s one more untrustworthy soul! At least this one gave me his word!”
His eyes narrowed her, making her heart race. He closed the scant distance between them, not quite touching her, she looked up at him her eyes wide, trembling in anticipation of something she couldn’t identify. “Is that all it takes, someone’s word?” He mimicked Zevran’s pose from earlier, and said, his voice low and steady, “I hereby pledge my oath of loyalty to you, until such a time as you choose to release me from it. I am your man, without reservation... this I swear.” But instead of kissing the back of her hand, he met her eyes and turned her hand over to kiss her palm, slowly, letting the tip of his tongue touch her skin between his parted lips. She felt goosebumps break out all over her and her legs tremble; the top of her head still felt like it was going to fly off into the night sky.
Then, as suddenly as he’d given her that oath, he’d dropped her hand as if it scalded him and backed away, “I-I I’m sorry! I don’t know what came over me! Please forgive me!” He spun and nearly ran from her, walking quickly into the darkness. She’d stood there, astonished, unable to do anything but stare after him until Leliana had come to find her to say dinner was ready.
Several days later, he’d given her that rose, that silly little rose that now lay pressed at the bottom of one of her wardrobes in Denerim, after another one of their arguments.
But she’d still gone to Zevran’s tent first, eventually, entirely uncomfortable about her feelings for both men but especially about Alistair. After every advance, the awkward prince had immediately backed off, apologizing. She hadn’t intended to proposition the Antivan, but when he’d offered the massage, she’d glanced at Alistair animatedly telling a story to Leliana and took the assassin’s offered hand and let him lead her away.
Bringing her out of her reverie, the Antivan dropped to her side where she sat by the fire, winded and sweating from his work out with the ex-Templar. “Copper for your thoughts, my Warden?”
To her astonishment, she realized her cheeks were wet and she quickly wiped them, her hand shaking, “I can’t – I don’t want to talk about it.”
The expression of concern on Zev’s face didn’t waiver. He brushed a lock of hair out of her face and tucked it behind her ear. “It’s late, you should get some rest. We’ll try to reach Perivantium by nightfall tomorrow.”
She nodded and crawled into her tent, tears still coming from her eyes. Her Mabari crawled in with her, curling up at her feet.
~*~
The interpersonal stuff should be done for awhile, hence my posting it in rapid succession. I promise they will kill people soon.
Like Tuesday! When I go back to work.
Part 27
They only stayed the night in the village of Ember. Bathed, refreshed and resupplied, they crossed the Hundred Pillars. The pass did make traversing the range faster and easier than it otherwise might have been, but the trek was still arduous enough they didn’t camp for long stretches of time, eager to cover as much ground as possible and leave the mountains. They remained entirely unaccosted, even by wildlife, though Moira credited the Mabari’s tendency to mark his territory scrupulously and obsessively for that fact. They stopped for a longer rest after the journey through the mountains and Zevran recommended heading for a town called Perivantium in the southern part of the Imperium for another resupply.
Moira checked their lyrium supply that night and realized they were beginning to get fairly low. She hadn’t had to use too much, but even with slowly weaning Cullen off the stuff, their supply was dwindling.
At this night’s stop, Zevran had decided to go back to Cullen’s training, declaring there were still too many holes in the other man’s shield technique. Moira wondered if she should be disturbed by the assassin’s making decisions for their group, after all, she was supposed to be the Warden Commander. But she found she just didn’t have the strength or the desire to point out that she was supposed to be the leader. She was beginning to feel numb, the prolonged worry about Alistair and her frequent unproductive Fade visits to him were wearing on her.
As she watched the two practice, Zevran stopped the swordplay to point out a flaw in Cullen’s defense. She’d never have thought when she’d first met the assassin that he’d have become such a huge part of her life.
The ambush had been rather transparent, but she and Alistair had been trying to do the right thing, so they’d given the young female decoy the benefit of the doubt. They’d rounded the bend into the trap Zevran had set for them, his heavily accented voice shouting, “The Grey Warden dies here!”
Alistair glanced at her while drawing his sword, “Apparently, he can’t count.” Moira laughed, her adrenaline elevating and giving her the intense awareness of her companions she was slowly getting used to. After the fight, she, Alistair, Leliana and Morrigan had approached the body of the elf who had spoken.
The blond elf pushed himself up on his elbows, but went no further when the tip of Alistair’s blade touched his throat. He blinked heavily lashed hazel eyes and allowed them to follow the blade of the sword up the hilt to its owner and then from Alistair’s stony expression over to her face. His eyes widened in surprise, travelling from her face to her feet and back up, “Mmm…Oh…I rather thought I would wake up dead, or not wake up at all as the case may be. But I see you haven’t killed me yet.”
Moira crossed her arms, “That could be easily rectified.”
The assassin blinked, lazily, the eyelashes making dark half moons against his tanned skin. He met her eyes again. She felt something quite a bit lower than her heart react to his forward gaze. “Of that I have no doubt. You are most skilled. If you haven’t killed me however, you must have kept me alive for some purpose, yes? My name is Zevran - Zev to my friends. I am a member of the Antivan Crows, brought here for the sole purpose of slaying any surviving Grey Wardens. Which I have failed at, sadly.”
“Who hired you to kill us?” Moira demanded. She put her hand on Alistair’s arm to get him to move the sword away for the moment. She was unable to take her eyes off Zevran. She hadn’t met many elves since leaving the Tower, and certainly none of them were gutsy enough, or suicidal enough, to flirt with her while the big Templar at her side held them at sword point.
“A rather taciturn fellow in the capital; Loghain, I think his name was? Yes, that’s it.” Why did she think he was undressing her with his eyes?
“Does that mean you are loyal to Loghain?” Moira asked. She was proud of the steadiness of her voice, despite the fact that he was making her increasingly uncomfortable.
“I have no idea what his issues are with you. The usual I imagine – you threaten his power, yes? Beyond that no, I am not loyal to him. I was contracted to perform a service.” Alistair grunted beside her, and crossed his arms. She could almost sense her friend’s impatience.
“And now that you’ve failed that service?” Moira asked, her eyebrow raised
“Well, that’s between Loghain and the Crows, and the Crows and myself. Now, unless you are quite stuck on cutting my throat, or something equally gruesome, perhaps you’d care to hear a proposal?” He still hadn’t moved from his reclining position. Whether it was in some fashion to point out his assets, he did have beautiful eyes and a great set of shoulders, after all, or out of concern for making her heavily armed friends aggressive, she couldn’t say.
“You tried to kill me!” She told him.
“Unsuccessfully! Besides, someone in your position can’t take these things so personally, can you?” His eyes were still disconcertingly fixed on her face
“I’m listening,” Moira told him, trying to maintain her tough posture. She didn’t really think it was fooling anyone, she was about as intimidating as a field mouse.
“Well, since I failed to kill you, my life is forfeit. That’s how it works. The Crows will kill me. That is the way it is. The thing is, I like living. And you obviously are the sort to give the Crows pause. So, let me serve you instead. ” The assassin somehow managed to bow with a flourish from his stretched out position.
“You must think I’m royally stupid.” Moira said, narrowing her eyes at him. Andraste’s Ass, what was wrong with her that he was making her nervous and not in a I-just-tried-to-kill-you-way?
"I think you're royally tough to kill. And utterly gorgeous. Not that you'll respond to simple flattery. But there are worse things in life than serving the whims of a deadly sex goddess." Moira’s eyes widened at the blatant attempt to flirt. Was he really going to try for that obvious?
“And what could you offer me?” She kept her voice neutral, it was harder than it seemed. She felt like she was trying to navigate the rapids of the River Dane, or break a horse to saddle.
“Well, I am skilled at many things, from fighting, to picking locks, to stealth. I could also warn you if the Crows should decide to try something more… sophisticated, now that my attempts have failed. I could also stand around and look pretty if you prefer. Warm your bed, or fend off unwanted suitors, no?” His eyes flicked to Alistair’s face before being locked on hers again, direct and definitely unsubtle.
“Bed warming might be nice,” the reply came out of her mouth before she could stop it. She felt herself turn completely red from her chest to her forehead and heard Alistair’s strangled gasp beside her, and Morrigan’s snort and Leliana’s laugh of delight behind her.
“See? I knew we could find a common interest. Or two, or three. Really, I could go all night.” The incorrigible elf winked at her. “So, what shall it be? I’ll even shine armor. You won’t find a better deal, I promise!”
“Very well, I accept your offer,” Moira said, holding out her hand to help him up.
Zevran accepted her hand to stand up. His grip was warm and solid, his fingers long and flexible. He refused to release her hand at first, holding it in both of his and getting down on one knee and looking up at her through that fringe of lashes, “I hereby pledge my oath of loyalty to you, until such a time as you choose to release me from it. I am your man, without reservation... this I swear.” He kissed the back of her hand to seal his promise. Electricity shot through her arm and down her spine at the touch of those full lips.
And then, Alistair had picked a fight there, and later in camp, over allowing the assassin to join them. Arguing with Alistair as always made everyone fade into the background and left her with the feeling that it was only her and him against the world and each other. In order to argue about her choices in privacy they’d always gone a ways away from camp. This time, he’d grabbed her arm and hauled her away from their camp, ignoring their companions’ curious stares.
Angrily he’d released her and run his fingers through his hair, bending slightly to get in her face, “I can’t believe you allowed that – that criminal! To join us! How will you even be able to sleep at night, knowing he’s right there waiting to kill you!”
She’d crossed her arms and stood her ground, her feet planted, “What, are you not up to the task of protecting me?”
His blue eyes widened and he threw his hands up in the air and stepped back, “I’m trying to be serious, here!”
It was her turn to get in his face, or try to, given their height difference. She stepped forward and poked his armored chest with her forefinger, “So am I! The only people I absolutely trust in this camp are you and Wynne! Morrigan only looks out for herself, Sten doubts our competence, Leliana could decide to leave us because of another vision! What’s one more untrustworthy soul! At least this one gave me his word!”
His eyes narrowed her, making her heart race. He closed the scant distance between them, not quite touching her, she looked up at him her eyes wide, trembling in anticipation of something she couldn’t identify. “Is that all it takes, someone’s word?” He mimicked Zevran’s pose from earlier, and said, his voice low and steady, “I hereby pledge my oath of loyalty to you, until such a time as you choose to release me from it. I am your man, without reservation... this I swear.” But instead of kissing the back of her hand, he met her eyes and turned her hand over to kiss her palm, slowly, letting the tip of his tongue touch her skin between his parted lips. She felt goosebumps break out all over her and her legs tremble; the top of her head still felt like it was going to fly off into the night sky.
Then, as suddenly as he’d given her that oath, he’d dropped her hand as if it scalded him and backed away, “I-I I’m sorry! I don’t know what came over me! Please forgive me!” He spun and nearly ran from her, walking quickly into the darkness. She’d stood there, astonished, unable to do anything but stare after him until Leliana had come to find her to say dinner was ready.
Several days later, he’d given her that rose, that silly little rose that now lay pressed at the bottom of one of her wardrobes in Denerim, after another one of their arguments.
But she’d still gone to Zevran’s tent first, eventually, entirely uncomfortable about her feelings for both men but especially about Alistair. After every advance, the awkward prince had immediately backed off, apologizing. She hadn’t intended to proposition the Antivan, but when he’d offered the massage, she’d glanced at Alistair animatedly telling a story to Leliana and took the assassin’s offered hand and let him lead her away.
Bringing her out of her reverie, the Antivan dropped to her side where she sat by the fire, winded and sweating from his work out with the ex-Templar. “Copper for your thoughts, my Warden?”
To her astonishment, she realized her cheeks were wet and she quickly wiped them, her hand shaking, “I can’t – I don’t want to talk about it.”
The expression of concern on Zev’s face didn’t waiver. He brushed a lock of hair out of her face and tucked it behind her ear. “It’s late, you should get some rest. We’ll try to reach Perivantium by nightfall tomorrow.”
She nodded and crawled into her tent, tears still coming from her eyes. Her Mabari crawled in with her, curling up at her feet.
~*~
The interpersonal stuff should be done for awhile, hence my posting it in rapid succession. I promise they will kill people soon.
Like Tuesday! When I go back to work.
#278
Posté 12 février 2010 - 10:18
amethyst_rose2009
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Aww, I feel for Moira. She really misses her handsome king. 
#279
Posté 12 février 2010 - 10:28
Herr Uhl
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Damn Zev, censoring our dirty stories *shakes fist*
#280
Posté 12 février 2010 - 10:40
ReubenLiew
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He's such a conservative! *shakes fist as well*
#281
Posté 12 février 2010 - 11:03
Herr Uhl
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Moira was very easily swept of her feet btw, I call hussy on that girl!
Yeah, you heard me, hussy.
Yeah, you heard me, hussy.
#282
Posté 12 février 2010 - 11:20
amethyst_rose2009
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Gasp! A......a......hussy?!!!! But Herr, Moira's our hero! 
But Herr, Moira's our hero!
#284
Posté 12 février 2010 - 11:28
Sialater
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Herr Uhl wrote...
Moira was very easily swept of her feet btw, I call hussy on that girl!
Yeah, you heard me, hussy.
Wait, what? By whom?
#285
Posté 12 février 2010 - 11:34
Herr Uhl
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Sialater wrote...
“...I could also stand around and look pretty if you prefer. Warm your bed, or fend off unwanted suitors, no?”
“Bed warming might be nice,”
“See? I knew we could find a common interest. Or two, or three. Really, I could go all night. So, what shall it be? I’ll even shine armor. You won’t find a better deal, I promise!”
“Very well, I accept your offer”
Her subconscious is that at least.
#286
Posté 12 février 2010 - 11:38
Sialater
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ROTFLMAO, that IS one of the dialogue choices....
#288
Posté 16 février 2010 - 03:37
Sialater
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Sorry, y'all. I took the weekend off and fell out of my writing groove. I'm trying to find it again, honest!
#289
Posté 16 février 2010 - 03:49
Herr Uhl
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Sialater wrote...
Sorry, y'all. I took the weekend off and fell out of my writing groove. I'm trying to find it again, honest!
Lies, you are merely toying with us!
#290
Posté 16 février 2010 - 03:59
amethyst_rose2009
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For inspiration Sia, think of Ali and Zev shirtless wearing tight leather pants. hehe. 
#291
Posté 16 février 2010 - 04:44
Sialater
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LOL, right now, all I can think of is saving the bloody galaxy with that badassed Turian.
#292
Posté 16 février 2010 - 04:49
Herr Uhl
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Sialater wrote...
LOL, right now, all I can think of is saving the bloody galaxy with that badassed Turian.
He's adorable.
Your waist is... very supportive.
#293
Posté 16 février 2010 - 04:50
amethyst_rose2009
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Oh no, now all I can think of is a shirtless Garrus, wearing tight leather pants! 
#294
Posté 16 février 2010 - 05:35
Sisimka
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Did I miss a post or is the time stamp wrong? Eh, anyway, love a Zevran chapter. 
#295
Posté 16 février 2010 - 05:45
Sialater
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It fell to the second page for awhile, so maybe just overlooked. Glad you liked!
Glad you liked!
#296
Posté 16 février 2010 - 11:06
Tasmen
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amethyst_rose2009 wrote...
For inspiration Sia, think of Ali and Zev shirtless wearing tight leather pants. hehe.
Or tight shirts and no pants.... Either would probably work.:innocent:
#297
Posté 16 février 2010 - 11:11
Sialater
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Glad to see I'm not the only one here with a dirty mind.
#298
Posté 16 février 2010 - 11:12
amethyst_rose2009
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Naughty, naughty girls, hehe. I like the way you think.
#299
Posté 16 février 2010 - 11:24
Herr Uhl
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I always thought men looked ridiculous with a shirt and no pants...
Shows what I know I guess.
Shows what I know I guess.
#300
Posté 17 février 2010 - 01:01
Palentor
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Nope, just got confirmation.
Tight black leather pants and no shirt is the way, other way around is a no-go (except for giggles).
Tight black leather pants and no shirt is the way, other way around is a no-go (except for giggles).
