[ Seeking out Taas after, admittedly, not spending as much time with him as he had in the past feels a little odd. That it feels odd makes it more odd and Zevran is not half as confident or certain in himself when he sidles up next to Taas, all leather wrapped innocence, a bottle of brandy in one hand and a sketchbook in the other. He nudges his friend's arm to announce himself, waiting until he has Taas' eyes to speak. ]
[ The qunari turns, smiling softly at the elf when he sees who it is. It had been a while since he had spent time with Zevran, and it had been gnawing him a bit, making him worry that he had scared the elf off after he had lost control. If they ended things, he preferred it to be on good terms.
Here he was, though, looking all confident with a bit of that fine brandy in his hand and the nickname on his lips. ]
[ There's a falter at the name- a flush he cannot quite repress but-
No. Cyril. It is not quite so epic and obvious and complicated and blatant as what is between The Iron Bull and Dorian- but there are threads here he would not cut. Tug now and again, yes, but- it is not for him.
Even if he wants them.
Zevran clears his throat and offers the bottle with slightly more assured smile. ]
I was hoping we could talk? And that I might sketch you.
I'm doing well. It's been calm lately, and I've started sparring with the troops again.
[ Taas smiles, gently putting a hand on the elf's waist - affectionate, steadying. Just a reminder to Zevran that this is okay. The elf seemed a little apprehensive, after all. ]
Brandy and your company? You spoil me.
[ He starts gathering his things together and moves his maul a bit. ]
Come, sit. You want to sketch me, too? That's a new one.
Ah, you should have told me! I would have liked to watch.
[ Perhaps he'd see Taas do that one marvelous trick with the ax that had him wondering if he could bed him that day they first met. Hands so steady and strong-
and gentle upon his waist. Despite himself he flushes further, tucking himself in close for a moment to lean against Taas. Just- to steal another moment like this before he gives it up entirely. Much as he thinks Cyril and Taas to be better suited- he's selfish. He cannot help it. ]
I have done so by memory a few times but not from sitting with you. Do you mind?
[ He uncorks the brandy and pours out two glasses- not in the same fine porcelain cups as before since they were out and about, but still well crafted in silver. He even spares a moment to flip through the sketchbook as he sits, turning it so Taas might see a striking image in shades of grey of himself in his Vitaar, Dragontooth Maul in midswing. All power and precision. ]
[ There's a soft, small chuckle as the elf sits and pours them that amazing brandy that made him all warm inside before he had even tasted it. It made the warrior remember the massage and the lovely bit of sex afterwards.
A good memory.
The sketchbook catches his eye and he makes an impressed sound as he sees himself drawn like that. Powerful and dangerous. ]
...shit, I look amazing. You have some serious skill there!
The subject lends itself well to the sketch. You know you are terribly handsome, Taas.
[ He sips his brandy, flipping to another sketch- part memory, part vivid imagining of Taas stretched out in the sun in shades of grey- the white splash of Cyril draped upon him much like a cat an exquisite contrast. ]
And what a burden it is to be in the company of such attractive men. I may be ruined forever.
I look pretty damn average next to someone like you, Zevran. Plus, ruining you and then reshaping is a lovely past-time for both of us, isn't it?
[ Taas knew he was attractive, yes - but handsome was new. Nice. Compliments about his looks were both pleasing and a bit odd, but he definitely enjoyed it - even rolling his shoulder a bit for his muscles there to really show for the elf. ]
Gorgeous and talented, is there nothing you cannot do?
[ His features are fond, brown eyes carrying a hint of warmth and desire before he looks at the next page. ]
Fuck, that's hot... he makes a great blanket, you know.
[ Zevran reaches up to pat a massive shoulder, flush deepening with pleasure as he recalls those ravishment and being ruined. Something else he'll miss but- Perhaps one last time. Selfish elf, selfish Zevran. ]
Sculpt. Garden? I have worked IN a garden before but took no real enjoyment in it. Design weaponry? Smithing- there is a list. A short list, but a list none the less.
[ He flicks to a blank page, tapping the surface with his nails. ]
You two are quite the remarkable pair. Striking and surprisingly sweet with one another. Do you- [ How to say this and not sound jealous? ] Is he 'Kadan' to you as well?
You'd look good with both clay and dirt, so I wouldn't count it out quite yet!
[ He jokes a little, enjoying the company and stealing a mouthful of brandy as they look at the drawing. Zevran's comments about Cyril makes his brow curve a bit, however. Despite the elf's attempt, it did sound rather like jealousy.
It confuses him a bit, since he knew full well that Zevran slept with the Dalish as well. ]
Cyril? He's a kind person. Caring, loyal. Stronger than you'd expect for someone that looks delicate, both in mind and muscle. Absolutely fucking gorgeous. [ Taas shakes his head slightly ]. ...but he's not kadan. I haven't bled for him or fought by his side.
[ Korrin was kadan. She was his closest friend, the person he trusted the most on the battlefield. Someone who could handle him at his worst. Zevran was kadan, because he had bled and fought and nearly lost himself to save the elf.
Cyril was... something else. Something he couldn't place. ]
[ He may have misread quite a bit, made assumptions as to what it meant, as to how they felt for one another. It seemed clear enough that they were close, that there was sentiment. Something in him goes loose as much as the rest scrambles to look over the facts again closer. He's missed something-
Or perhaps he's missed nothing and it is as he thought, but the word does not fit? ]
Is that what it means, then? Someone you have fought with and bled for? A warrior's bond, not a lover's?
[ It hinges on this, perhaps. No, it certainly hinges on this. Whatever the answer Zevran focuses on the sketch, rounding out the broad line of Taas' shoulders. ]
[ The warrior strokes a large hand down the golden hair, soft and soothing. ]
It means a lot of things, but the literal translation is 'where the heart lies'. Someone important to you. Korrin uses it for her lover. I use it for the people closest to me, the people I trust the most and that I care about. No matter if we fuck or not.
[ Taas sighs, reaching up to rub the curve of his horn ridge. ]
But a lover... it's different for people like Korrin. She knows how to love, she knows it's allowed, and she knows cute little things her parents probably told her about how you show affection in the Qun.
Those things are for friends under the Qun. There are no lovers under the Qun. We're not raised with the promise of love and happy families. We're encouraged to create bonds of friendship and trust instead. Sex complicates that. Being distracted by love can get someone killed.
Loving someone will get you reeducated.
So you have close friends that are like your family, and you have the tamassran that you fuck.
[ Taas stops there, shaking his head. ]
...I'm not saying you're a tamassran or anything. I left the Qun, after all. I learned differently. Still, I keep it a bit different from each other, just to get my mind in order. I don't fuck friends but I can become good friends with people I fuck. So kadan means affection. Trust. Friendship. A connection.
You're important to me, Zevran... but I never lay claim to anyone, so you don't have to worry about that.
A little- [ His eartips dip and he sighs. ] A lot.
[ It is something that is worth worrying about- that sentiment. But that Kadan for him is not something of a lover's endearment...Zevran is uncertain if that is better or worse. If the knot in his chest means relief or regret. He could want more, with Taas. But he and Cyril- or he and anyone else...
He swallows past it. Here there is no room for whatever the strangeness he is feeling. ]
Would you ever wish to? Lay claim, that is. I know it is not your way and that is well and good. But do you ever wish to have more?
[ Should he even be asking? Taas is not like most but he is like him. Sentiment has no place in the life of an Assassin. Even if he has had time to learn and want and perhaps even reach- Taas may be content where he is. How he is. ]
I don't think I understand what 'more' means to you. I have so much in my life.
[ He rubs the elf's back gently, affectionately. ]
I have people I care for deeply, both as lovers and as friends. I have people I trust, people that make me happy. Great sex. What else is there? Exclusivity? Binding someone down to just you? It makes little sense to me.
I don't want to own anyone. As long as we're all happy, then 'love' is just a word that means nothing to me.
[ Taas smiles softly, taking Zevran's hand in his own. ]
Do you want more? Is this what you mean to tell me?
More does not need to be exclusive. [ He knows that much. He knows very little in this but- he knows it need not be something so mundane and binding as monogamy. ] It would be...favorites, I suppose? More weight, more sentiment. More affection? I- I will admit I am not the best to speak of such things. There has not been much of...more...in my life. And what little I had was tainted by the Crows.
[ He churls his fingers in Taas'. It's a tentative, wary thing- not for who or what Taas is- but for who and what he is. ]
It is not ownership. I have been owned- more than once. I did not care for it but- love is...sharing? All of you with all of someone else. Equally. Understanding.
I thought perhaps you and Cyril had this or...the beginnings of this.
[ He watches the words playing on those lips, quiet as the elf speaks. It still didn't make that much sense to him - if that was love, then why did it seem so complicated? He had people he shared himself with, who he cared for an trusted. Maybe even some more than others - as he had said, there were people he fucked, and then there were people he fucked that had grown into friends. Something more.
What does hit him, however, is what Zevran says about himself. That he hadn't had much of that, and the little he did was tainted. It explains a little of the trepidation, the insecurity that had seemed so uncharacteristic.
Taas reaches out and tilts up the Antivan's chin so that their eyes meet. ]
If that is what love is, then I already share my love with you, Zevran. I've never let my guard down as much as I have with you.
[ The same with Cyril, but he wasn't going to mention that right now. Zevran seemed to need a reminder that he was worth so much more than he though he was. ]
[ It'd be easier to bear if he knew this would lead to a kiss or perhaps a ravishment- but the weight of Taas' eyes has never been quite so unbearable, the kindness in him coiling like a leaden weight in his chest. Whatever came next? He did not know if he could stand to hear it.
One word. One word, one syllable, four letters, a lifetime of pain, of fear, of trepidation-
He freezes.
Eyes wide and skin blanched, he locks up entirely under Taas' hand. That- this isn't how the conversation is supposed to go. He was supposed to hear and know that he felt such a thing for Cyril not- not him. This is not for him, all this warmth, all this affection, all this promise. ]
Someone I trust, feel affection for, share myself with, like to fuck, would murder a band of Crows for? Yeah. I like it.
[ He strokes Zevran's back gently, trying to soothe the man. ]
Easy. I don't expect anything from you. We have a good deal going on, right? It's just nice to figure out what love means.
[ Without the exclusivity and ownership part, feeling strong affection and sharing hidden part of himself seemed to make more sense. It was friendship with someone you fucked, only deeper.
Was the kind of happiness he had felt when he escorted Cyril to the soiree been the same thing? A feeling of love and pride?]
[ That...this is not how the conversation was supposed to go. Zevran himself feels more than a little confused- but not uncomfortable. Skittish tension coils through his shoulders, slowly soothed by Taas' hand.
No demands, no expectations.
Little by little he unwinds. This is...this is fine. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Action - post Twisted Fate Mission
Good evening, Uragano.
no subject
Here he was, though, looking all confident with a bit of that fine brandy in his hand and the nickname on his lips. ]
Hello, kadan. How are you doing?
no subject
[ There's a falter at the name- a flush he cannot quite repress but-
No. Cyril. It is not quite so epic and obvious and complicated and blatant as what is between The Iron Bull and Dorian- but there are threads here he would not cut. Tug now and again, yes, but- it is not for him.
Even if he wants them.
Zevran clears his throat and offers the bottle with slightly more assured smile. ]
I was hoping we could talk? And that I might sketch you.
no subject
[ Taas smiles, gently putting a hand on the elf's waist - affectionate, steadying. Just a reminder to Zevran that this is okay. The elf seemed a little apprehensive, after all. ]
Brandy and your company? You spoil me.
[ He starts gathering his things together and moves his maul a bit. ]
Come, sit. You want to sketch me, too? That's a new one.
no subject
[ Perhaps he'd see Taas do that one marvelous trick with the ax that had him wondering if he could bed him that day they first met. Hands so steady and strong-
and gentle upon his waist. Despite himself he flushes further, tucking himself in close for a moment to lean against Taas. Just- to steal another moment like this before he gives it up entirely. Much as he thinks Cyril and Taas to be better suited- he's selfish. He cannot help it. ]
I have done so by memory a few times but not from sitting with you. Do you mind?
[ He uncorks the brandy and pours out two glasses- not in the same fine porcelain cups as before since they were out and about, but still well crafted in silver. He even spares a moment to flip through the sketchbook as he sits, turning it so Taas might see a striking image in shades of grey of himself in his Vitaar, Dragontooth Maul in midswing. All power and precision. ]
no subject
[ There's a soft, small chuckle as the elf sits and pours them that amazing brandy that made him all warm inside before he had even tasted it. It made the warrior remember the massage and the lovely bit of sex afterwards.
A good memory.
The sketchbook catches his eye and he makes an impressed sound as he sees himself drawn like that. Powerful and dangerous. ]
...shit, I look amazing. You have some serious skill there!
no subject
[ He sips his brandy, flipping to another sketch- part memory, part vivid imagining of Taas stretched out in the sun in shades of grey- the white splash of Cyril draped upon him much like a cat an exquisite contrast. ]
And what a burden it is to be in the company of such attractive men. I may be ruined forever.
no subject
[ Taas knew he was attractive, yes - but handsome was new. Nice. Compliments about his looks were both pleasing and a bit odd, but he definitely enjoyed it - even rolling his shoulder a bit for his muscles there to really show for the elf. ]
Gorgeous and talented, is there nothing you cannot do?
[ His features are fond, brown eyes carrying a hint of warmth and desire before he looks at the next page. ]
Fuck, that's hot... he makes a great blanket, you know.
no subject
[ Zevran reaches up to pat a massive shoulder, flush deepening with pleasure as he recalls those ravishment and being ruined. Something else he'll miss but- Perhaps one last time. Selfish elf, selfish Zevran. ]
Sculpt. Garden? I have worked IN a garden before but took no real enjoyment in it. Design weaponry? Smithing- there is a list. A short list, but a list none the less.
[ He flicks to a blank page, tapping the surface with his nails. ]
You two are quite the remarkable pair. Striking and surprisingly sweet with one another. Do you- [ How to say this and not sound jealous? ] Is he 'Kadan' to you as well?
no subject
[ He jokes a little, enjoying the company and stealing a mouthful of brandy as they look at the drawing. Zevran's comments about Cyril makes his brow curve a bit, however. Despite the elf's attempt, it did sound rather like jealousy.
It confuses him a bit, since he knew full well that Zevran slept with the Dalish as well. ]
Cyril? He's a kind person. Caring, loyal. Stronger than you'd expect for someone that looks delicate, both in mind and muscle. Absolutely fucking gorgeous. [ Taas shakes his head slightly ]. ...but he's not kadan. I haven't bled for him or fought by his side.
[ Korrin was kadan. She was his closest friend, the person he trusted the most on the battlefield. Someone who could handle him at his worst. Zevran was kadan, because he had bled and fought and nearly lost himself to save the elf.
Cyril was... something else. Something he couldn't place. ]
no subject
[ He may have misread quite a bit, made assumptions as to what it meant, as to how they felt for one another. It seemed clear enough that they were close, that there was sentiment. Something in him goes loose as much as the rest scrambles to look over the facts again closer. He's missed something-
Or perhaps he's missed nothing and it is as he thought, but the word does not fit? ]
Is that what it means, then? Someone you have fought with and bled for? A warrior's bond, not a lover's?
[ It hinges on this, perhaps. No, it certainly hinges on this. Whatever the answer Zevran focuses on the sketch, rounding out the broad line of Taas' shoulders. ]
no subject
[ The warrior strokes a large hand down the golden hair, soft and soothing. ]
It means a lot of things, but the literal translation is 'where the heart lies'. Someone important to you. Korrin uses it for her lover. I use it for the people closest to me, the people I trust the most and that I care about. No matter if we fuck or not.
[ Taas sighs, reaching up to rub the curve of his horn ridge. ]
But a lover... it's different for people like Korrin. She knows how to love, she knows it's allowed, and she knows cute little things her parents probably told her about how you show affection in the Qun.
Those things are for friends under the Qun. There are no lovers under the Qun. We're not raised with the promise of love and happy families. We're encouraged to create bonds of friendship and trust instead. Sex complicates that. Being distracted by love can get someone killed.
Loving someone will get you reeducated.
So you have close friends that are like your family, and you have the tamassran that you fuck.
[ Taas stops there, shaking his head. ]
...I'm not saying you're a tamassran or anything. I left the Qun, after all. I learned differently. Still, I keep it a bit different from each other, just to get my mind in order. I don't fuck friends but I can become good friends with people I fuck. So kadan means affection. Trust. Friendship. A connection.
You're important to me, Zevran... but I never lay claim to anyone, so you don't have to worry about that.
no subject
[ It is something that is worth worrying about- that sentiment. But that Kadan for him is not something of a lover's endearment...Zevran is uncertain if that is better or worse. If the knot in his chest means relief or regret. He could want more, with Taas. But he and Cyril- or he and anyone else...
He swallows past it. Here there is no room for whatever the strangeness he is feeling. ]
Would you ever wish to? Lay claim, that is. I know it is not your way and that is well and good. But do you ever wish to have more?
[ Should he even be asking? Taas is not like most but he is like him. Sentiment has no place in the life of an Assassin. Even if he has had time to learn and want and perhaps even reach- Taas may be content where he is. How he is. ]
no subject
[ He rubs the elf's back gently, affectionately. ]
I have people I care for deeply, both as lovers and as friends. I have people I trust, people that make me happy. Great sex. What else is there? Exclusivity? Binding someone down to just you? It makes little sense to me.
I don't want to own anyone. As long as we're all happy, then 'love' is just a word that means nothing to me.
[ Taas smiles softly, taking Zevran's hand in his own. ]
Do you want more? Is this what you mean to tell me?
no subject
[ He churls his fingers in Taas'. It's a tentative, wary thing- not for who or what Taas is- but for who and what he is. ]
It is not ownership. I have been owned- more than once. I did not care for it but- love is...sharing? All of you with all of someone else. Equally. Understanding.
I thought perhaps you and Cyril had this or...the beginnings of this.
no subject
What does hit him, however, is what Zevran says about himself. That he hadn't had much of that, and the little he did was tainted. It explains a little of the trepidation, the insecurity that had seemed so uncharacteristic.
Taas reaches out and tilts up the Antivan's chin so that their eyes meet. ]
If that is what love is, then I already share my love with you, Zevran. I've never let my guard down as much as I have with you.
[ The same with Cyril, but he wasn't going to mention that right now. Zevran seemed to need a reminder that he was worth so much more than he though he was. ]
no subject
One word. One word, one syllable, four letters, a lifetime of pain, of fear, of trepidation-
He freezes.
Eyes wide and skin blanched, he locks up entirely under Taas' hand. That- this isn't how the conversation is supposed to go. He was supposed to hear and know that he felt such a thing for Cyril not- not him. This is not for him, all this warmth, all this affection, all this promise. ]
I- You-
[ Maybe he did not explain it clearly? ]
no subject
[ He strokes Zevran's back gently, trying to soothe the man. ]
Easy. I don't expect anything from you. We have a good deal going on, right? It's just nice to figure out what love means.
[ Without the exclusivity and ownership part, feeling strong affection and sharing hidden part of himself seemed to make more sense. It was friendship with someone you fucked, only deeper.
Was the kind of happiness he had felt when he escorted Cyril to the soiree been the same thing? A feeling of love and pride?]
no subject
[ That...this is not how the conversation was supposed to go. Zevran himself feels more than a little confused- but not uncomfortable. Skittish tension coils through his shoulders, slowly soothed by Taas' hand.
No demands, no expectations.
Little by little he unwinds. This is...this is fine. ]
Ah. I am happy to help.