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rose_in_winterCharacters/Pairings: Morrigan/Zevran
Rating: PG
Contains: Suggestiveness (probably still worksafe.)
Notes: Written for the August 2010 round ofareyougame.
Wordcount: 390
Summary: A Crow should know better than to get into a dangerous situation for no reason, but I am no longer a Crow.
Beta: None
It's late at night, and most of the camp is asleep. Or retired to their tents, as the case may be. I slide past our fearless leader's tent, and consider slipping inside to join her with Alistair, but the templar would probably expire from shock. It would be a shame if that happened—such a waste of a perfectly good body between me and sharp things. Not that I would object to joining them, of course, especially given the lazy satisfied smile she had this morning. Enthusiasm must be making up for lack of skill, there. Perhaps if I am very charming to both of them tomorrow, I can find out firsthand.
But that is not what I am after tonight. Although Alistair is sweet—much like a barely-trained puppy—and our fearless leader is lovely, tonight my taste is for spices.
Sten, who makes an excellent guardian so I do not have to keep watch when there are more interesting things to do at night, politely ignores me as I sidle past him. He, unlike anyone else in the camp except the mangy mutt that follows Elissa everywhere, makes no comment upon identifying my destination. I keep going toward the little campfire that sits apart from the main camp.
She stands up from her fire immediately, ice already sheathing her left hand as she turns to face me. I give her my best charming smile. She stares at me, expressionless.
"It is not wise to sneak up on me," she says after a short silence.
"I wasn't sneaking, exactly. More like, approaching quietly that I might not disturb you if you slept."
"What is it that you want?" She has not released the ice magic. Now that's an interesting thought, with multiple applications. Some of which I would enjoy very much.
"Some company. Perhaps some conversation." I hold up the bottle in my right hand. "I brought wine."
She eyes it, and me. The ice around her hand melts and hisses as it drips into her fire. Then she seats herself, ignoring me completely. I take it as an invitation and sit down next to her, not too close, but close enough to touch, later.
I consider it an accomplishment that she does not immediately unleash destructive magic on my head. Perhaps this evening will end well after all.
Rating: PG
Contains: Suggestiveness (probably still worksafe.)
Notes: Written for the August 2010 round of
areyougame.Wordcount: 390
Summary: A Crow should know better than to get into a dangerous situation for no reason, but I am no longer a Crow.
Beta: None
It's late at night, and most of the camp is asleep. Or retired to their tents, as the case may be. I slide past our fearless leader's tent, and consider slipping inside to join her with Alistair, but the templar would probably expire from shock. It would be a shame if that happened—such a waste of a perfectly good body between me and sharp things. Not that I would object to joining them, of course, especially given the lazy satisfied smile she had this morning. Enthusiasm must be making up for lack of skill, there. Perhaps if I am very charming to both of them tomorrow, I can find out firsthand.
But that is not what I am after tonight. Although Alistair is sweet—much like a barely-trained puppy—and our fearless leader is lovely, tonight my taste is for spices.
Sten, who makes an excellent guardian so I do not have to keep watch when there are more interesting things to do at night, politely ignores me as I sidle past him. He, unlike anyone else in the camp except the mangy mutt that follows Elissa everywhere, makes no comment upon identifying my destination. I keep going toward the little campfire that sits apart from the main camp.
She stands up from her fire immediately, ice already sheathing her left hand as she turns to face me. I give her my best charming smile. She stares at me, expressionless.
"It is not wise to sneak up on me," she says after a short silence.
"I wasn't sneaking, exactly. More like, approaching quietly that I might not disturb you if you slept."
"What is it that you want?" She has not released the ice magic. Now that's an interesting thought, with multiple applications. Some of which I would enjoy very much.
"Some company. Perhaps some conversation." I hold up the bottle in my right hand. "I brought wine."
She eyes it, and me. The ice around her hand melts and hisses as it drips into her fire. Then she seats herself, ignoring me completely. I take it as an invitation and sit down next to her, not too close, but close enough to touch, later.
I consider it an accomplishment that she does not immediately unleash destructive magic on my head. Perhaps this evening will end well after all.