It was good to be back in his own rooms in the castle, Fenris thought. He liked his estate, and doubtless he would spend a reasonable amount of time there in future, but here he was close to his friends. Here felt like home, more than any place before ever had. Even as he prepared for bed, he was already looking forward to the next day; an early-morning ride with Zevran, he hoped, with a stop at his favourite bakery to pick up their breakfast. Lunch with Anders and Sebastian. Perhaps some time spent with the children, while Zevran gave Pic some additional training. He had never spent much time with children before; he hadn't thought he'd like them. But time spent with Ewan and Niawen, among others, had made him realize that he rather liked children, and surprisingly enough they also seemed to like him, at least the few he'd interacted with.
There was a soft knock at his door, a pattern of knocks he recognized, and he smiled, hurrying over to open it. "I thought you'd gone back to your room for the night," he told Zevran.
The other man smiled, as he stepped into the room. "I did go back to my room, but not for the night," he said. "I went to fetch this."
He held up a familiar bottle; Antivan brandy, a gift Fenris had given him some months back. Fenris smiled, remembering the night they had finally broached it, and the few nights when they'd drunk it since; all of them special nights, celebrations, full of special memories. "What are we celebrating tonight?" he asked, closing the door and looking enquiringly at Zevran.
Zevran shrugged, and set the bottle down on a nearby end-table. "Does it matter?" he asked. "We are back here, together, with our friends. Is that not reason enough to celebrate?"
Fenris smiled slowly. "I suppose it is," he agreed, and stepped closer, then leaned down to kiss the other elf, one hand rising to slide under the assassin's shoulder-length hair and cup the back of his neck. Zevran made an approving sound, his own hands rising to cup Fenris' face. The kiss deepened; Zevran's arms slid around Fenris' neck, while Fenris released Zevran's neck and let his own arms drop, wrapping around the other elf's waist and pulling him closer.
When they finally parted they were both short of breath. Zevran had a wide smile on his face. "Perhaps we should skip the brandy and take this directly to the bedroom, yes?" he asked.
Fenris laughed softly. "Or bring the brandy with us."
"An intriguing suggestion," Zevran said, letting one hand remain on Fenris' shoulder, fingers caressing lightly against the side of his neck, while with the other he reached out and picked up the bottle. "Glasses?" he asked, one eyebrow arching questioningly.
Fenris nodded, and bent down to briefly kiss him again before turning away, walking over to the sideboard to fetch a pair of blown glass goblets. He led the way to the bedroom, setting down the glasses on the small table by the bed, before kicking off his soft-soled indoor boots. Zevran set down the bottle as well, then as Fenris was reaching to loosen his leggings, the assassin reached out and put his hand over his, stopping him. "Wait," he said. "There is no rush."
Fenris paused, looking at him for a moment, then shrugged slightly. "I suppose not," he agreed, and watched curiously as the other elf kicked off his own boots, then picked up and uncorked the bottle pouring a little into each glass. Zevran looked like he had something on his mind, Fenris realized as the elf turned and handed one of the glasses to him, then gestured silently at the bed with the one held in his other hand.
They stretched out side-by-side, propped up against the pillows at the head of the bed, and sipped at their brandy, not talking at first. Fenris watched Zevran, waiting. Trusting that Zevran would talk when he was ready to, and in the meantime just enjoying his company.
Finally Zevran put aside his glass, and reached over to take Fenris' hand in his, interlacing their fingers together. "We should talk," he said, very quietly, keeping his eyes fixed on their joined hands,
"About?"
"Us. Our future – if we indeed have one," Zevran said, finally turning his head to look at Fenris and meet his eyes.
Fenris met his gaze for a long moment, then turned away, putting aside his glass of brandy as well, suddenly having no stomach for it. He turned back, and looked intently at Zevran. "I would hope we do have a future," he said. "You mean very much to me; you know that, I would hope."
Zevran nodded slightly. "Yes. As you mean very much to me, as well – more than I ever expected, when I first conceived an interest in you. I... do not wish to be parted from you, Fenris, but my being here is a danger to you. Not just to you, but to others here as well; the Crows will not give up on me easily, especially not when I am so close to Antiva here. And..." He paused, and sighed, looking away for a moment. "I have obligations elsewhere. My title may be largely symbolic, my bannorn a very small one, but I do have people that are within my care as the Bann of Blackwater. I have been too long away from home; I need to return, for at least a little while, some time soon."
Zevran swallowed, and looked down at their joined hands again. "I do not know how long I will be gone. When, or even if, I can return safely. I know only that the thought of leaving you, losing you, affects me as no other has; not even Soria. I loved her, yes, but she never loved me back; not in the same way, at least, though I know she did care for me. While you..." he broke off.
Fenris had never seen Zevran so uneasy before; so at a loss. It matched his own unsettled feeling, the one that had made him depart for his estate without the other elf by his side. He drew a breath, and squeezed Zevran's hand tightly for a moment. "I would wish you to come back. Ideally, not to have to leave in the first place, but I know well that it is no ideal world we live in. I..." he stopped as well, the words too big to say, too frightening. He leaned over instead, reaching across with his free hand to touch Zevran's cheek, tilt his head to just the right angle. He kissed him, not deeply, but nonetheless very passionately, feeling Zevran's hand tighten hard around his, the elf's other hand reach up to wrap around his forearm. He could feel the racing of his own pulse, where those slender fingers pressed against his wrist.
When the kiss ended, Zevran looked searchingly into his eyes, then smiled warmly at what he saw there. He leaned upwards, turning his head to press a kiss against the angle of Fenris' jaw, then released his hand so that he could turn onto his side, pressing himself against Fenris, his hands begin a practised exploration of Fenris' body.
They did not speak, but only exchanged touches and kisses, staying clothed at first, enjoying the slide of cloth against flesh, the hidden touch of hands under clothes. Zevran set the pace for everything, Fenris passively accepting whatever the other elf wanted to do. He sighed into a long kiss from Zevran as nimble fingers unlaced his leggings and slipped down within his smallclothes, cupping over his length with a familiar warmth, gently drawing it up and out. Zevran kissed his way down Fenris' neck, hand curling round him and tugging insistently, then released him again, long enough to help the warrior strip off his shirt. He worked his way further down after that, following the white tracery marked on Fenris' skin with tongue and kisses, and sometimes teeth, gently, until his mouth closed hot and warm and wet around Fenris' erection.
Things progressed along well-known pathways after that, until some little while later Fenris cried out in pleasure, arching backward with eyes closed tightly, his hands tangled in Zevran's hair. Zevran, as he sometimes did, took no care for himself afterwards, but instead moved back up the bed, curling up with Fenris, spooned back against him.
Fenris draped his arm over the smaller elf's waist, and let his own hand stray downwards, touching fingertips lightly to Zevran's erection. "Shouldn't we do something about this?" he offered, nuzzling into Zevran's hair.
"Later," Zevran said, and turned his head to smile at him."For now I am more than content to just lie here with you."
Fenris snorted, but wrapped his arms more securely about the elf, holding him close.
They napped, and woke, and a while later slept again.
Fenris woke feeling very well-rested. He slipped out of bed, Zevran muttering and shifting and cracking open one eye long enough to see that it was just him getting up before rolling over on his stomach and slipping back to sleep. Fenris concealed a smile as he pulled on his nightshirt against the morning chill, and padded off barefoot to the bathing chamber. Their second bout in the middle of the night had been lengthy and energetic, and it was only his own long-standing habit of rising early that had him up out of bed already.
He drew only a shallow bath for himself, not feeling like waiting the time for the tub to fill, and cleaned himself quickly. Besides, he'd need a proper bath later, once he'd had his morning ride. He mentally scratched the idea of inviting Zevran along off of the list in his head of things he'd like to do today; better to let the other elf sleep in. He would take only a short ride today, he decided, and bring back some pastries from his favourite bakery, in the hopes that Zevran would still be in his bed when he returned, and they could breakfast together. Not that the castle kitchens didn't make perfectly good food, but he did like the things made at his favourite bakery. Besides, Zevran had shared his package of pastries on rides together often enough now that they would have almost as many pleasant memories associated with them for the assassin as they did for Fenris.
Ari was in fine fettle, not in the least tired, even after their lengthy journey back from Fenris' estate. Fenris made much of him and Aer, then went for his ride, not going very far outside the city walls, nor very fast; just a slow early-morning amble, communing with the countryside and his horse, enjoying the freedom he had to do so.
The baker and his apprentices were pleased to see him show up on their doorstep on his way home, and quickly put together a parcel of pastries, Fenris purposefully selecting ones that he knew the other elf was particularly fond of, as well as a few of his own favourites. He returned to the castle directly, taking time only to groom the horse and talk briefly with one of the stable-boys about a shoe that he thought might be working itself loose, before hurrying back indoors and up to his room.
He let himself in quietly, hoping to find Zevran still there, and still asleep. Though he'd settle for the first part, that being the most important one as far as he was concerned. He heard a sound from the bedroom, and smiled, tossing the light cloak he'd worn riding over the back of a chair, and hastily brushing at and straightening his clothes before starting toward the bedroom; he'd smell like horse until he bathed again and changed into clean clothes, but Zevran wouldn't mind.
The sound of glass shattering came from the bedroom, and a pained cry, cut off with a gurgle.
