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[ombranera]

I will write back as soon as possible.

Regards, Zevran

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[ombranera]

A mask he would not believe, bu an act? Perhaps he should have said that from the start- he was a terribly good actor when given cause in such things, and in this? He could be quite masterful. He'd needed to be to survive the Crows. To survive Taliesin. Apparently now, again, to survive Michel.

But did Michel require surviving?

There were too many variables, too many possibilities where things went wrong, where Michel became bored, where he was granted clemency-

There would be no future for them. Not with the world as it was. That- that wasn't an excuse. That simply was how the way the world worked, a reason to protect himself above all else. He hardened his heart against the damp of Michel's eyes, the catch in his throat. Last time he'd given one last kiss. Now? He could not possibly offer the same. Not with Michel's heart in his eyes.

"If all you expect is a taste, that is yours to have. But wanting me to feel the same- that cannot happen." Will not happen. But he would offer his flesh for that was easier to barter his body than it was his mind, his heart. "And should you wish for that- you know where to find me."

[disgracedchampion]

"I know..." Michel said almost bracingly, pinching the bridge of his nose with his unoccupied hand, "...and I cannot do that to you, I realize it is what I have already been doing to you, but I was fooling myself at the time. It was entertainment, it was pleasure, it is casual sex...and then I couldn't convince myself anymore...so I stifled it and I thought your body could be enough. I could sate my physical desires at the expense of my emotional needs...and then it just began to feel wrong, it felt like I was debasing you. Buying your body to satisfy what I wanted and then it hurt."

[ombranera]

"If you think sharing my bed debases me, clearly you neither know me nor what it is to be debased." Offence made it easier to square his shoulders and remain unmoved at this display. Words, words, words and all of them hollow. Condescending. "If this is how you truly feel, perhaps I ought to write a bill for services rendered, yes? How should I break it down? One sovereign per orgasm? Most charge by the hour but I am certain I can find a price that is agreeable."

[disgracedchampion]

Michel's head snapped up and he looked at Zevran as though he'd just spit on his cheek, a difficult look to describe, shock, confusion, hurt, "that is not what I meant. There is a distinct difference between sharing your bed and sharing your bed with feelings such as these."

[ombranera]

"And what difference would that be? Have your expectations changed? Do you want something I cannot give you?" This was not on him. He was not in the wrong; all he'd done was taken a lover. Michel had made it complicated.

[disgracedchampion]

"My expectations have changed, more for myself than for you, I didn't expect you to change...I did not expect anything...well this is not entirely true. I expected this on some level," not that he expected Zevran to drive the knife quite so deep, he did not expect him to turn the knife counter-clockwise either. He expected a no or a simpler rejection of his feelings and for it to be left at that, but this was even more unbearable.

[ombranera]

"So long as you did not expect me to drop everything, swoon in your arms and confess the same." Zevran leaned back against the wall, arms crossed- and he had managed to ignore the thing in Michel's hands for quite some time now, but curiosity was getting the better of him. "What is that you've brought- a token of affection?"

[disgracedchampion]

"Is everything an ulterior motive? I only expected you to be honest and you've been quite honest," though it had gone from being a dialogue to being a defensive attack and that was not what Michel wanted. It was not the reason he'd come here after all, that and...Michel looked at his cargo, his arm had almost gone numb from it, but this entire conversation could explain this numbness, "it is...it is nothing."

[ombranera]

"I am an assassin- there is almost always an ulterior motive- and you yourself are Orlesian. We have already discussed this." He waved the question off with a dismissive flick of his hand, eyes flitting from the package to Michel's face and back again. "If it was nothing you would not have brought it."

[disgracedchampion]

"And it suddenly matters to you when it didn't seem to matter before, that I am Orlesian. You were once so quick to defend me against people who threatened me for being Orlesian, for being a Chevalier, and for those who saw me as a traitor," it was certainly a question that deserved examining, especially since not long ago he said he would have a talk with one of his companions about this very thing, "you would not want it now, what does it matter?"

[ombranera]

"It is easy not to care when time spent together means nothing. Now you come to me and say it had weight, it has meaning, with your heart in your hands." Everything became suspect in that light. How could it not? "Gifts among friends are not so strange. But this was to be more than that, yes? A token of affection. A declaration."

[disgracedchampion]

Michel was not one to weep openly, nor was he one to do so very often, but to say that the time that they spent together meant nothing when it had meant something to him? Well, it stung undeniably, not one to burst into hysteric, he felt it more than registered the dampness rolling down the side of his face, like one might with sweat. Was it numbness, or was the lack of acknowledgement just one more way for Michel to keep his dignity in check? Whatever it was it didn't stop the indignity from creeping it's way along his neck and face, this was a different kind of heat, the kind of heat you keep buried in your chest and he knew he had to leave this room before he was overwhelmed by it.

"I did not come here to fight with you...I..." Michel pinched the bridge of his nose again and shook his head trying to clear it. He wasn't even going to deign to acknowledge the package, there was enough humiliation to be had in this moment, why give Zevran something he'd crafted himself only to be told it was meant nothing in the same way their time spent together meant nothing, "...I should go, stay safe in Antiva."

He couldn't endure it another moment and while his feet felt like lead, he still willed them to move.

sending crystal; and now for something completely different

[hlif]

[Word has likely reached Zevran once he returns from Antiva, though perhaps not from his kestrel. After all, what does one make of it to see the face of a twin strolling through camp to deliver a message to a Warden. Not merely a similar face but a true twin, identical in every way that laughs, and shrugs, and strolls away wrapped in a thick bear pelt they tug low over their head when the wind whips the snow into their eyes, flanked by a mabari that's more scar tissue than anything else?

What does one make when their eyes meet though, a horrible moment when things thought forgotten come rushing back, threads thought hastily cut, hacked off, frayed and at least knotted threatening to unravel again?

Asher's not going to come to the camp. Honestly when he's still healing it's too long a trek for him plus the healers worked far too hard to keep Anders from his sight, as did the augur at the hold to banish him from his mind to have a scene be caused by a glimpse but he can't let this go unsaid.]

Zevran? S'Asher, the Boneflayers captain, Christine recommended me to you.

[Best to jog the memory before he just comes out with 'why do you have the other half of my scout'.]

sending crystal; A break from the endless porn, alistair, porn cycle, yay!

[ombranera]

[ A single panicked call in the middle of the night not from Alistair is a rare thing indeed- but his Kestrels are as paranoid as he and Settimo had been decidedly...upset by this revelation- but it is Vitta who called. Blades at the ready and deadly certainty in her voice to ask after disguises, what might be done for a face, for mannerisims, who in the hold knew them well enough to mimic them-

What was this mirrored image of her brother (he took a moment to be proud of her saying that so readily without batting an eye or a hitch to her breath) walking around with a bear on his back and a mabari at his heels?

Zevran...did not know, but managed to insist on some manner of calm. With the mission at hand he could not truly think on it until he is back within Skyhold proper and a new message is waiting for him- but he has yet to connect the mirror of his oldest fledgling to any particular group within Skyhold. ]

Ah, yes. I must apologize for not taking you up sooner on that recommendation. The illness and then work- you know how it is for assassins. The sooner a job is done? The better. What might I do for you?

While Zevran is in Antiva

[keeperofmagi]

Zevran.

You and Fate are good friends, correct?

While Zevran is in Antiva

[ombranera]

Mm? Yes, I would say we are.

[keeperofmagi]

Have you slept with him?

[It isn't an accusation, so much as an education guess, and there's no vitriol in the words.]

[ombranera]

Not since you caught his attention in truth, but yes. Looking for details?

[keeperofmagi]

For - information. [There's a pause, and it's incredibly easy to picture the way she is frowning thoughtfully.]

I have no intention of doing something wrong with this and incurring your wrath, or anyone else's. But it is not something that comes... naturally --

[Ugh she is so disappointed with herself, but--]

He enjoys flirting. I've witnessed that much. Any recommendations that you might have--

[ombranera]

...Usually the flirting comes before the kissing. So far as I am aware, at least.

You two have gotten to the kissing ,yes?

[keeperofmagi]

I don't require assistance on the physical aspects, Zevran. [Nor is she going to answer that question.]

But it is - a different thing, to approach a lover when one has... deeper feelings, than to approach a lover than one has a physical relationship with casually.

I do not want him to think that is all I am interested in.

[ombranera]

...you are truly coming to the wrong person for this, Nerva. The Crows had no use for sentiment. What little I knew before, whatever I'd been taught or lived with- It is lost to me.

But I am quite certain he is aware you want more than his body.

One thing I have found that holds true for most is showing interest in their interests, showing you listen to what they say and remembering what troubles him, what brings him joy.

[keeperofmagi]

He won't speak to me about what troubles him. The Shard obviously does so, but he avoids discussing it as if he were avoiding leaches in a pond. [She gives a hard breath.]

I would think you would be the best person to come to. If you were raised with no use for sentiment, then you should recognize the difference, correct? I merely ... I find difficulty with talking, often, about things that have no real consequence, but he greatly enjoys it. What do you two speak of, that engages your friendship?

[ombranera]

He will bring it up when he is ready- poking at it now will not end well.

[ See: Alistair poking him too hard and getting sent away in tears. ]

Usually? Tales of our exploits, card tricks, wild nights of drinking and dancing. Experiences we have shared. Fashion, wine, music that we enjoy, women we find attractive, men we find attractive.

[keeperofmagi]

[Nerva sighs, because Zevran isn't wrong, but--]

I know no Card Tricks, and my exploits... My life is not the stuff of amusing legend. Why talk about something we both experienced? We were both there. Fashion - I could speak of masks, I suppose, but in all honesty I - would likely embarrass myself.

[There's a small frown.]

You think I should speak to him about people I find attractive?

[This sounds like backwards info, Zevran.]