dalishstorm: (grumpy theron)
It appeared like an innocent enough exchange from a distance, Zevran in his usual sly manner asking Morrigan some question dripping with innuendo--but it was his way, even in simple exchanges. When she tried to slap him, red-faced, and he nimbly dodged, it still wasn't too out of the ordinary, though the others took note and turned to watch at the animalistic sound of rage and indignation Morrigan made.

No, Vanastin decided, it wasn't really obvious anything was wrong until she transformed into a wolf and started chasing Zevran through the camp. He was just nimble enough to keep putting obstacles between them, going so far as to vault over Wynne's tent, which Morrigan simply tore through.

"Er, Van,..." Alistair shifted nervously beside him, "Aren't you going to stop them?"

"Give me that," and the Dalish pulled the little container Alistair was holding out of the not-quite-templar's hands, started snacking on the weird shem food Alistair had been explaining before this outburst. "Five sovereigns says she catches him."

"She's a wolf! Of course she'll catch him! And I thought you two were--"

"Five sovereigns," Vanastin repeated, refusing to take his eyes off the spectacle--they'd knocked over one of the poles on Morrigan's little lean-to now, and the roof came crashing down on her potion bottles. "I'll stop them after she catches him."
----

"Shem wouldn't take the bet," Vanastin said, but Zevran couldn't look up at him, too surprised by the almost tender manner Vanastin took in wrapping his arm.  "He's getting smarter."

"Perhaps I should take a lesson from our Templar friend, since I clearly have not learned my lesson about listening to--ah!"  Zevran flinched, tried to pull his arm away at a careless, certainly deliberate prod to one of the tooth marks.

"Don't piss off both of the mages next time."  The smile curling the corners of Vanastin's mouth wasn't quite his usual predatory grin.

"Sometimes, I think you must do these sorts of things deliberately.  As if you--ah, how do they say it here?--get off on tending my wounds."

"Nonsense.  But I do like having you at my mercy."
dalishstorm: (Cadryn Amell)
"You know, I think this one is my favorite."

"Mmm, yes, they should make a book of it--"

The Warden had tromped up behind Zevran and Leliana as they were examining a bill posted to a signboard just inside the Gnawed Noble, and was looming over them, reading over their shoulders, and had just gotten to the part of, he slipped the loose robe from her shoulder in a smooth, caressing motion, lips trailing a line of heat after, and the Witch sighed, "Oh, Warden!"

"Andraste's bloodied rags, what's this drivel?" Lunging forward, face red (in embarrassment or anger no one could say), he tore the bill violently from the nail holding it in, and as he read the thing grew increasingly flushed. Zevran and Leliana watched in mild amusement and mild worry--they feared not for their safety, but the Warden could certainly make life unpleasant if he was displeased with either of them.

When he finished he balled the paper up and tossed it to one side, with a sharp, "Fetch." The mabari leaped up to catch the paper in his jaws, and happily chomped down the offending story. "If you see any more," he jabbed a finger at them accusingly, "tell me."

They remained motionless as he stomped away, the mabari scampering at his side, and once he was well out of earshot exchange another sly look.

"Should we tell him--"

"--that it's Oghren? I think not."
dalishstorm: (Zevran)
Morrigan woke, stretching languorously, from a most delightful dream of her virile lover--she stopped mid-motion, muscles twitching at the interrupted stretch, and looked down--well, doing what he was doing now.

He hovered over her naked breast, grinning wolfishly, the blankets and furs of their shared nest pushed down far enough to expose the soft muscles of her lean stomach, a tantalizing curve, and she could imagine the motion he'd made, a soft and slow caress, because she'd known it in her dream. But he ignored it now, and after catching her eye descended, rolling one nipple between his lips, sucking lightly and then teasing with his tongue with that vaccuum still applied, and she couldn't hold back a satisfied sound, a little growl deep in her throat. Oh, but he was marvelous with that wicked, witty tongue.

"Do not mistake me," she said. "I am not complaining, but must you wake me in such a fashion daily? I imagine it may be," she paused for effect, quirked an eyebrow when he looked up, lips still fastened to her breast, "inconvenient, one day."

He detached, but remained close, breath wicking up the moisture left by his tongue and leaving her with a delicious chill in spite of the heat. "I'm an addict, what can I say?"
dalishstorm: (Cadryn Amell)
"I do not understand. Is this some sort of Fereldan custom?"

Leliana looked up at the Qunari warrior in a sidelong fashion, uncertain of how to explain it. "Well, when a person is overcome with emotion, sometimes they act it out in strange ways. Don't Qunari ever feel so strongly?"

"No. Ours is a way of discipline." He neither scowled nor smiled, betrayed no emotion at all, as usual, but gestured to where the petite elven Warden was dancing her way merrily in a circle around the fire, her mabari following her with leaps and spins and happy yips. "I confess curiosity. What has excited her so?"

"Ah, well," Leliana, blushed, looking down, clasping her hands just beneath her bosom and worrying them slightly. "It is embarrassing. I will only tell you quietly."

Sten leaned down, and Leliana went up on her tiptoes to whisper into the giant's ear. "Last night," she said, voice going every quieter, "we--" Whatever else she said was lost over the hound's happy noises, but Sten blushed furiously, and Leliana would later swear she saw the corner of his mouth twitch up.

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January 2013

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