"I do not understand it, Dog. Am I addled? Befuddled? Discombobulated?" Zevran absent-mindedly scratched the mabari behind his ear, which twitched with each pass of the elf's nimble fingers; an almost purring growl emanating from the hound's chest.
It was just the two of them actively on watch tonight, although Zevran had no doubt that the witch was still awake in her shelter next to the other fire pit at the edge of their camp. The lantern in the bard's tent had been extinguished for some time now, but he was neither foolish enough - nor naïve enough - to believe that that meant she was sleeping. Alistair, on the other hand, was clearly asleep, with the sound of his snores rattling irritably in Zevran's sensitive ears.
"He puts even your nocturnal rumblings to shame."
Dog's head lifted at that, his upper lip curling up with an offended sounding snort, spraying a fine mist of drool across Zevran's knee with the force of his huffed exhalation.
"Now, now… There is no denying the truth, my good fellow. My ears are almost as fine as your own, and I am quite sure that those noises were emanating from you, and not from the delicate throat of your lovely mistress, yes? Or, are you attempting to pin the blame for those most inelegant grunts on her?"
Dog whined, his head tilting a few inches to the right, before settling his weighty boulder of a noggin - loose, slobbery jowls included - on the assassin's lap.
Zevran resumed his auricular ministrations. "That was your show of acquiescence I suppose?"
A soft whuff.
"Very well. Although, next time, a simple bark or nod would have sufficed."
A grunt, and the purring sort of growl resumed.
"Back to the matter at hand, then: our lovely Warden." The two sat in a companionable silence as Zevran thought for a moment; the flames of the fire sparking and hissing as he jabbed at the logs with the tip of a spindly branch. "She should not intrigue me. I have spent the night in the company of the world's most beautiful women, intimately savoring the most primal of pleasures. Perfect bodies, perfumed and dressed in sophisticated delicacies of silk and ribbons."
Dog yawned, showing off a mouthful of worn teeth.
"I know, but you must believe me that it was magnificent at the time. Which, is why I am struggling now, I think. Neria is not like those women. She is mousy and plain. Her hair is too long and forever in tangles; her eyes do not sparkle like sapphires. No, they are a watery, murky blue at best, and I am being generous."
The great head lifted from his lap as Dog growled.
"There is no need to take offense. Just as with your own sonorous night-time thundering, you must admit that it is the truth."
The growling intensified.
"If you will allow me to continue, perhaps my further elucidation will placate your protective sensibilities?"
Dog settled back on his haunches; his snarls receding into merely an ominous rasp in his breathing.
"What I mean to say, is that she is the veritable opposite of the piquant young ladies that I used to find so enticing, and yet… they are all utterly forgettable. And she is not." He poked at the flames thoughtfully. "The more time I spend with her, the less plain she seems to be. She has the most delightful dimple in her left cheek when she smiles; I am sure that you have noticed."
Dog harrumphed agreeably.
"While we are on the subject, her laugh is pleasant enough, too. She is most perspicacious for one untrained in stealth and subterfuge, and her wit is delectably sharp." Zevran smiled. "Not to mention, her brobdignagian, multi-linguistic collection of cuss words is nothing short of stupendous. I am actually slightly envious of her abilities in that regard. It is odd, but the sum of all those things makes the blue of her eyes less like a washed-out puddle. When I think of them now, in fact, I am reminded of the sky over the bay in Antiva; storm clouds muting the harsh glare of early morning."
An owl's haunting call cut through the distant trees. Zevran held his breath and listened, letting the minutes pass by without incident, before he spoke again. Dog had re-settled his head in the assassin's lap, nudging Zevran's hand until it was once more stroking his tattered ears.
A while later, a dry, rumbling snore began in earnest as the hound sagged against him in repose; the weight comfortable and warm at his side. Zevran chuckled softly. "I wish I could find my own rest as easily as you seem to, amigo."
He let the fire die down a little lower, the passage of time measured in the dry sticks and branches he'd tossed, one by one, into the flames. Dozing a little himself, his eyes occasionally dropping closed, he stirred to a fuller level of wakefulness at the sound of footsteps approaching from the copse of trees to the north; one set light, the other brutishly loud.
"Ah, my lovely Warden returns. Did you find the plants you were seeking?"
Neria and Sten emerged from the foliage, the qunari immediately stomping off without a word towards his own tent. Since the mage had defeated his bid for leadership of their group, he had been remarkably contrite, as though determined to make amends for his failed attempt – even willing, apparently, to traipse about through the Fereldan countryside at night in search of uncommon herbs and shrubberies.
Neria plopped down next to him on the ground. Dog whimpered a little in his sleep, and she reached across Zevran to rumple his ears. "Nope. No luck. Found a few sprigs of Lion's Breath, but that's it." She yawned and stretched. "I miss anything interesting here?"
Her hair was full of prickly, tufted seeds that looked almost like snowflakes tangled in her dark tresses. "Only Alistair and Morrigan bickering. He has gone to sleep – as you can surely hear – and the witch has retreated to her side of the camp."
"So, nothing unusual then." Neria smiled, the dimple in her cheek on display for the briefest moment before disappearing once more.
"No." He smiled back at her, reaching out a hand to gently pluck one of the seeds from her hair. "You are covered in these."
Neria put her hands up to feel them, laughing as she did so. "It's going to take me forever to get all of these out."
"I could help," he reached out and pulled another one free, "if you wish." He ignored the flutter in his heart when those blue, storm-filled eyes looked into his own.
"Sure, that would be… helpful. Thanks."
Zevran angled himself to face her, careful not to disturb Dog as he did so, and began the slow process of untangling the tiny burrs. He took this rare opportunity to study her face, pleased to note that she appeared to be doing the same to him. How had he ever thought her plain?
"Do you like what you see?" he ventured to murmur. He let his fingers slip for a moment, grazing her cheek, as he removed another seed from the long strands of hair that were forever falling into her face.
"Very much so," she whispered, as if afraid to disturb the hush of the night surrounding them and the illusion that they were alone.
Dog chose that moment to snort – a horrendous, wet sucking sound – promptly shattering that misconception.
Neria laughed, falling into a fit of giggles, which was irrepressibly contagious. Zevran surprised himself by laughing along with her; elbowing the canine in the ribs and earning a disgruntled snuff for his effort though Dog's eyes remained tightly closed.
"I am beginning to suspect that he may, in fact, be in league with Oghren."
Neria wiped away the tears that had formed at the corners of her eyes. "Maker, you could be right. I haven't laughed that hard in a long time."
"You should do it more often. It suits you."
She gave him a long look. "Perhaps, I shall. But, there's one thing that I'd promised myself I would do first."
"Oh? And what would that be, my Warden?" His heart was most certainly not leaping about in his chest like an undignified jackrabbit.
"This," she said, and she leaned over and kissed him soundly on the mouth, with a fierceness that was simultaneously unexpected and utterly delightful.
Neria pulled back, flushing furiously. "And now, I am going to bed, before I embarrass myself any further."
At first, he was almost too stunned to respond when she started to stand up – honed Crow reflexes, be damned – but he came to his senses quickly enough to grab her arm. "Wait!"
"No, I shouldn't – "
"You cannot just leave… after that." She sputtered but he plowed onward. "Especially, since there is one thing that I had promised myself that I would do first."
Neria stilled in his grasp. "And that would be?"
"This." He kissed her back – oh, how he kissed her back – with all of the longing and tenderness that had been creeping in over the past few months; tiny saboteurs, sneaking in around the walls he had erected and leaving thoughts only of her in their wake. Through the hand that now rested between her shoulder blades, he could feel the way her breath caught beneath his palm as his tongue brushed hers. Truly, this was the finest night. He tugged her closer still, wanting more, wanting…
The two of them broke apart with a gasp as Dog shoved himself between them, planting himself firmly on Neria's lap; his stumpy tail oscillating with a rapid wag.
"Oof. Dog, get off!" Neria toppled sideways as Dog began to enthusiastically slobber on her chin. "You're crushing me… with your… Eurgh… No licking!"
Zevran was caught between a bolt of displeasure at being interrupted and laughing at Dog's antics. "It would appear that someone has finally realized that you have returned to camp."
Neria looped her arms around the mabari's neck, giving him an enormous hug. "I missed you, too, you big lummox, now please kindly remove yourself from my lap."
Dog licked her cheek a final time, gave Zevran a rather knowing stare, and then bounded off in the direction of Morrigan's shelter. Zevran stretched out a hand to help Neria back up. "He is nothing if not enthusiastic."
She gave him a radiant smile and a wink. "I'm sure he would have said the same about you, given the circumstances he found us in. I really should get to bed now; it's late and we need to push on to Redcliffe tomorrow. But, ah, I'm interested in… doing that again – sometime – if you're interested, that is."
Zevran took her hand and pressed a kiss into her palm. "You do not need to ever doubt my interest."
"That's… good." She took a step forward, stopped, and then turned back to kiss his cheek. "Good night, Zevran."
"Good night, my Warden. Pleasant dreams."
He reluctantly watched her vanish into her own tent before settling himself back down near the fire. Pleasant dreams, indeed, he thought as he smiled happily to himself; reliving the moment of that kiss over and over in his mind until the first soft wisps of dawn crept over the horizon and into the sky.
A/N: Written for the amazingly talented and lovely xseikax for the CMDA Secret Santa Fic Exchange. Please go check out some of her wonderful stories here on FFNet or her incredible artwork on deviantArt (LadySeika over there). She's one of the nicest people I've been lucky enough to meet in this fandom, and it was a pleasure to write this for her.