Hey, this is the first part of what is, right now, an eleven part series. I'm going to mark it as completed, but there might be future installments, I'm not sure yet. Just some short works about Zevran and Maiti Mahariel. Hope you enjoy!
"I'm flirting with you."
Zevran was accustomed to partners who knew the dance, who would smile and wink and exchange innuendos with the best of them. He was used to Antiva- or, more honestly, he was used to flirting with other Crows, men and women who knew they could die any day. This big man with a soft heart seemed ignorant of that very fact despite the dangers they faced every day.
This, however, was new. Mahariel was smiling sheepishly, ignoring the pitter patter of raindrops as they hit the leaves of Brecilian Forest.
"Do you really need to specify?" he said, laughing. "Usually you don't tell someone you're flirting with someone. You just do."
"I don't know how to," replied the Warden, pulling his helmet off and shaking his red hair loose, his bangs sticking to his forehead with sweat. "So I figured I'd just tell you."
The Warden set his helmet on the ground and began digging around in his pack. Zevran wondered where the others had gone. Morrigan and Alistair weren't two people that were easy to miss. Suddenly, though, it was just the two of them and half a dozen trees, the wind moving through them at an alarming pace.
"I found these gloves," said the Warden, pulling them out of his bag, armored hands almost crushing the soft leather hiding past the metal. "I thought you might like them. You were telling me about your mother, so I thought of- they're probably stupid, but maybe they're not."
Mahariel shot him a tentative smile and handed him the gloves. Zevran examined them, smiling slightly at the designs on them.
"For me?" he said.
"Yes," said the Warden. "Whether or not you want me, uh, flirting with you. They're yours."
Zevran looked down at the gloves, unable to express what he was feeling in that moment. "They're not exact," he heard himself drawl. "But they're very close."
He looked back up. "Thank you. No one's ever given me a gift before."
The smile spread across Maiti Mahariel's face, turning into a grin more carefree and happy than Zevran had ever expected coming from a man in full armor. The smile was so wide and big it look almost painful, straining at the sides of his face.
"Do you mind if I flirt?" said Mahariel.
"No," said Zevran, throwing back his head and letting out a laugh. "I don't mind if you flirt."