uh so basically I'm writing Cousland twinfic, where Elissa's a mage and the GW and Aeden's the one who ran away when Howe stormed the castle (and proceeded to drink away his sorrows for a few months), and they were reunited in Redcliffe after the Urn quest, and now there's twice the Cousland rage in the party, idk it makes more sense in my head anyway this is directly post-licked-a-lamppost (GOD BLESS THAT LAMPPOST?) convo:
Elissa pushed aside the flap and ducked into her tent, smiling as she knelt and lit the tiny lamp that let her see the tent’s interior. Her fingers slipped with the flint, tingling with the memory of Alistair’s warm grip, and she giggled at her own attempts as she tried again, succeeding in lighting the wick. When she looked up from her task, her smile froze, and Zevran, lying under her blanket and propping himself up on his elbows, said, “Oh, continue on, my dear. It is most charming.”
“Zevran,” she hissed, and then she stopped, unsure of what to say next, as her eyes had helpfully registered the fact that he wasn’t wearing a shirt. Hoping Leliana was sound asleep within her own tent, and that he still had his smallclothes on, she said, “What are you doing here?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Is that a blush I see on the cold Grey Warden cheeks? Do not worry, there is no harm in simply looking.” He arched his back, and she could almost hear him purr; she bit her lip and looked at her hands. “It is a charming color on your skin.”
“Will you just go?” she said, wishing he would bother to speak more softly. “I don’t want anyone—”
“Ah, perhaps I should explain my purpose in being here. You see, I could not help but overhear your conversation with your fellow Grey Warden—” Elissa wondered if this was how Alistair felt when she teased him, this sensation that one’s head was liable to catch fire “—about your inexperience in the pleasures of—”
“That was a private conversation,” she said, knowing as she said it the futility of such an observation. Alistair and Morrigan and the others thought camp was private enough, but she had grown up in the “privacy” of shared sleeping spaces and knew how prone ears were to eavesdropping. “And anyway, it’s our business, not—”
“I thought I might offer you some advice,” the elf said, tilting his head. “Oh, your ears are red too. How curious. The women in Antiva—”
“If you have advice, offer it,” Elissa said. “Then please leave.”
“Ah yes. As I was saying, I couldn’t help but hear that you are inexperienced in certain crucial matters. I thought I could…offer to ease you out of your shell, so that when the time comes you are more prepared, and thus able to enjoy yourself more.” He shrugged, and she couldn’t help but see how his wiry muscles worked in tandem; the rest of her mind had gone blank, from shock or outrage. “I would also be happy to advise you on the matter of pleasuring—”
“You want me to sleep with you so I’ll be better equipped to sleep with—” She stopped, shock turning to confusion turning to absolute mortification.
“Oh, no,” he said. “We would not have to go that far. Baby steps, yes?”
“That’s not even—we don’t even know if—” She was babbling her protest, and the crinkle of a smile around Zevran’s eyes told her he wasn’t fooled.
“Clearly you are intrigued by the possibility, or else you would not bring it up in conversation, no?” he said, grinning into her discomfort. “And clearly you two are drawn to each other like moths to a flame—only let us hope you find each other, instead of the fire. The burn can be…most unpleasant.”
“You really have to leave,” she said, giving up. “Or else I’ll tell my brother that you were trying to take advantage of me and then he will have to beat you.”
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sarken
FICLET w. appropriate icon pt 1
Date: 2010-08-04 02:25 am (UTC)it makes more sense in my headanyway this is directly post-licked-a-lamppost (GOD BLESS THAT LAMPPOST?) convo:Elissa pushed aside the flap and ducked into her tent, smiling as she knelt and lit the tiny lamp that let her see the tent’s interior. Her fingers slipped with the flint, tingling with the memory of Alistair’s warm grip, and she giggled at her own attempts as she tried again, succeeding in lighting the wick. When she looked up from her task, her smile froze, and Zevran, lying under her blanket and propping himself up on his elbows, said, “Oh, continue on, my dear. It is most charming.”
“Zevran,” she hissed, and then she stopped, unsure of what to say next, as her eyes had helpfully registered the fact that he wasn’t wearing a shirt. Hoping Leliana was sound asleep within her own tent, and that he still had his smallclothes on, she said, “What are you doing here?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Is that a blush I see on the cold Grey Warden cheeks? Do not worry, there is no harm in simply looking.” He arched his back, and she could almost hear him purr; she bit her lip and looked at her hands. “It is a charming color on your skin.”
“Will you just go?” she said, wishing he would bother to speak more softly. “I don’t want anyone—”
“Ah, perhaps I should explain my purpose in being here. You see, I could not help but overhear your conversation with your fellow Grey Warden—” Elissa wondered if this was how Alistair felt when she teased him, this sensation that one’s head was liable to catch fire “—about your inexperience in the pleasures of—”
“That was a private conversation,” she said, knowing as she said it the futility of such an observation. Alistair and Morrigan and the others thought camp was private enough, but she had grown up in the “privacy” of shared sleeping spaces and knew how prone ears were to eavesdropping. “And anyway, it’s our business, not—”
“I thought I might offer you some advice,” the elf said, tilting his head. “Oh, your ears are red too. How curious. The women in Antiva—”
“If you have advice, offer it,” Elissa said. “Then please leave.”
“Ah yes. As I was saying, I couldn’t help but hear that you are inexperienced in certain crucial matters. I thought I could…offer to ease you out of your shell, so that when the time comes you are more prepared, and thus able to enjoy yourself more.” He shrugged, and she couldn’t help but see how his wiry muscles worked in tandem; the rest of her mind had gone blank, from shock or outrage. “I would also be happy to advise you on the matter of pleasuring—”
“You want me to sleep with you so I’ll be better equipped to sleep with—” She stopped, shock turning to confusion turning to absolute mortification.
“Oh, no,” he said. “We would not have to go that far. Baby steps, yes?”
“That’s not even—we don’t even know if—” She was babbling her protest, and the crinkle of a smile around Zevran’s eyes told her he wasn’t fooled.
“Clearly you are intrigued by the possibility, or else you would not bring it up in conversation, no?” he said, grinning into her discomfort. “And clearly you two are drawn to each other like moths to a flame—only let us hope you find each other, instead of the fire. The burn can be…most unpleasant.”
“You really have to leave,” she said, giving up. “Or else I’ll tell my brother that you were trying to take advantage of me and then he will have to beat you.”