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Title: Let's Just Be Friends
Author: Rhion
Rating: T - Antivan Massage (an actual massage)
Disclaimer: Me no own, you no sue.
AN: :screams:RARG Okay, okay, I really need to quit looking at the kmeme prompts. I really do. I cave so easily to pressure. And Faithless is so dark that I thus far, I've written three fluffy prompts (if you count this one) to counterbalance the supreme Darkness! of it. So, I found this one..
Original prompt goes like this: As he develops feelings for the warden, Zevran starts to get very jealous and possessive. Maybe it happens during the threesome with Isabella or maybe someone hits on the Warden and Zev goes like "RAWR MINE!"
Every warden is fine, although M!Cousland is my fav match for Zev.
So, this is neither slash, nor a Cousland. Some of ya'll are very familiar with why I won't write one, so yeah. As for slash, there's already plenty of it for Zev, so, het it is. Besides, Tylah and this Squish!Zev are just too cute.
XXX
At Redcliffe...
XXX
He really was starting to not like the way everyone kept looking at Tylah... as though she were just a simple piece of meat and nothing more than a collection of assests like her bountiful bosom, lean legs, sweet face, and merry laughter. Though, he did have to admit that this particular set of armor really made her legs look divine... Snapping his gaze from where it had been sitting when Bann Teagan lay a hand on her shoulder, making some proclamation or other, Zevran had to stifle the urge to growl. At least later in the evening, he knew she would fall asleep on his shoulder rather than Teagan's.
It was a small consolation.
Stalking along beside her faithfully, the assassin began to tally up all those who kept looking at his Warden. Never mind the fact that they had done nothing other than sleep together. Or the occasional kiss on the cheek she gave him. Those tiny things would bolster him for hours, days even, except when some presumptuous ass would reach out and touch her. Tylah was glorious, and formidable, and sweet. For the most part. But these people not a one of them could keep their eyes in their heads, as if seeing a beautiful, elven woman in armor was extremely rare. Well, Zevran supposed it was rare.
Nevertheless - he really wished people would stop staring at her like that.
XXX
At the Pearl...
XXX
"Oh? And what do you propose instead of Wicked Grace to get to know you?" Isabella was sultry enough, but in comparison, Zevran found her leaving him cold.
Other than, of course, his reflexive flirting, one couldn't undo cultural habits, and besides, it was part of his charm. However, when it became obvious that his Warden wasn't cluing in to the pirate captain's none-too-subtle hints, Zevran grabbed her hand and gave it a squeeze. He didn't like the way Isabella was eyeing himself, or Tylah, overmuch. "Perhaps we have other things to do right now?"
Tylah's nose crinkled in confusion, then nodded. "You're right, Zevran. Captain Isabella, I'm sorry but we have a few other matters to attend to right now."
Isabella cast him a glance, a perfectly groomed brow arching high on her head. "Oh? Well, do remember that I am here any time you should change your mind..."
XXX
At camp...
XXX
Tylah looked exhausted, so when dinner came, Zevran had set aside their dinners, and spread out his cloak for them to sit upon when she was ready. However at the moment she was making her usual rounds, bolstering morale and being her usual meticulous self. Ser Prize woofed at him, wiggling his stubby bottom before flopping down in his usual spot so that the prerequisite petting and ear scratching could commence. Chuckling to himself, the Crow honored his treaty with the massive mabari, who pressed his cold, wet nose to Zevran's hand and gave it a happy slurp.
Stretching out, Zevran leaned against Ser Prize's flank, legs crossed at the ankles, awaiting their mistress' pleasure. Glancing around the camp he noted Leliana shifting nervously, her hands clasped before her. Frowning, the Crow let his ears perk up, focusing on picking out the thread of conversation.
"...I can't help but think about how soft and warm my bedroll is..." the bard's voice took on that cloyingly coy tone that made his hackles rise.
"Oh, I'm sorry, I shouldn't keep you," Tylah replied, utterly clueless as to what was going on. "I thought you might want to talk more? But that's alright, I really shouldn't keep you if you're tired, you work so hard."
Growling in the back of his throat, Zevran glared across the campfire at the bard who seemed determined to con his Warden to her bed. "Oh no, I still wish to talk with you."
Tylah was completely oblivious, even still. "What about?"
"I thought perhaps you could join me in my tent so we could talk further..." which was a line that was about as subtle as a frying pan on the side of the head. "I could show you my collection of pressed flowers." And that line was cringe-worthy at best, and downright tactless at worst.
"Oh! I didn't know you collected flowers! They must be so pretty," Tylah's voice rang with that earnest sweetness that made him want nothing more than to grab her and shield her from the rest of the world.
Zevran almost laughed when he noted Leliana's expression, even from here it looked rather... put out. "Ah, no. I don't. Stop pretending you don't know what I want."
Tylah's confusion was evident even from here. "But, I don't...? I'm not really sure what's going on, and what I did to upset you. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to."
"Oh." Zevran almost felt bad for the bard. Almost. "Well, I want you to come spend the night with me."
Tylah's embarrassment was a tangible thing as she put her hands to her face, stuttering out, right before she ran away, "Oh, I'm so sorry Leliana... I... I... I didn't know you felt that way, I.. I'm sorry."
Later that night, Tylah was curled into a ball hiding behind him, shame-faced. "I didn't know she liked me like that."
Rolling over, Zevran sighed. "She tends to be as subtle and gentle as she can. It's no fault of yours that you didn't pick up on that."
Tylah curled closer, resting her head on his pillow. "You're a really good friend Zevran, I don't know what I'd do without you, I really don't."
Chuckling, Zevran tugged at the collar of his shirt to loosen the ties. "Probably sleep in your own pallet."
"Oh, I'm... I'll just go." More embarrassment, and that wasn't what Zevran wanted.
Draping his arm over her, he pulled her to lay back down. "No, no, dear Tylah. Stay. You seem to actually sleep when you're here."
XXX
On the road...
XXX
"So, uh, you're a woman right?" Ogrehn's stench of booze made Zevran wave his hand in front of his nose, the stink intensifying when the dwarf spoke.
Tylah laughed brightly. "Last time I checked, yeah, sure."
"Hurr-hurr-hurr. Betcha ain't never had a good soddin' roll huh?" A thunderous belch heralded a cloud of noxious fumes. "Tell ya what Warden, I'll grease up the ol'bronto, and I'll show ya what a real man can do."
Zevran didn't stop the growl from bubbling up, and only narrowly stopped himself from booting the foul little man over. This called for intervention. "Ogrehn! Look at the sky, it's so high, is it not?"
"Hey, elf, you, urp," the dwarf gagged, one long arm flailing out.
Feeling righteously indignant, Zevran pressed on, dropping a hand onto the dwarf's shoulder. "I just, I never thought on it much. Not long ago you had the surety of a mountain overhead, to keep you from falling up into the sky... Ahh... and truly, this place - it must be a lesson in humility. Chairs too high, tables just out of reach... and my, just think on going to the privy!"
"You shut up, you soddin' elf! Say no more, or, or I'll gut ya, umphurg," more gagging, and the foul redhead staggered away.
Tylah shot him a half-amused, half-cross look as the sounds of a stomach being voided came. "That wasn't nice."
Shrugging eloquently, Zevran smiled sweetly and without a hint of guile. "It had just occurred to me, that is all my fair Warden."
"Uh-huh, try another one," she said swatting his shoulder. "Seriously, I don't know why I put up with you."
Grinning at her, Zevran bumped her armored shoulder with his. "Because I'm a good friend?"
Tylah rolled her eyes at him, returning the jostle. "The best."
XXX
With the Dalish...
XXX
"You know, it occurs to me that you've never had any of the good things that come with being a Warden," Alistair was shuffling, a rose clenched in hand.
Zevran paused, holding his breath. He had known that the shem had designs on Tylah, but Zevran had hoped that he wouldn't find the spine to say anything. Let alone to bring a rose as a token. Clenching his teeth and fists, Zevran fought roaring in and shove the large Templar away who was shifting from foot to foot before Tylah.
"Oh I don't know, every day starts bright and early, with a nice bit of variation. Never know if it'll be werewolves, trees, bandits, undead or darkspawn out trying to kill us!" Tylah laughed with her usual verve. "Anyway, being a Warden came with having you and the others, as part of my life. So, that sounds pretty good to me!"
Pinching the bridge of his nose, the assassin shook his head, moving behind a tree so as not to be noticed.
"Well, ah, thanks, I, ah, feel the same way.. and-here-I-want-you-to-have-this-rose," saying as he shoved the perfect bloom at Tylah.
Making a face, Zevran winced. This wasn't going to end well. For Alistair hopefully, and not himself. It would be beyond annoying if Tylah accepted the rose... which she was doing. If it weren't for Tylah's shocked and muffled sound of distressed surprise when Alistair leaned down, holding her head clumsily in his hands and kissed her, Zevran would have been murderous. As it stood, he was really just very angry. Why did everybody feel it was appropriate to touch, look at, or in general accost his Tylah? It was his shoulder she frequently passed out on, it was his tent she spent time in when not in her own, and it was his cheek she kissed before bed during those magical moments he was able to share with her.
"Ah, was that too soon?" Sheepish and blushing like a sickeningly adorable tomato, Alistair rubbed the back of his head.
The very head that Zevran wished to cut off. Well, actually, no. He wanted to cut off the other head that Alistair was no doubt thinking with. Along with those presumptuous hands, and rip out those eyes for good measure. Perhaps give him a sign to wear about his neck proclaiming dire warnings for any who over-stepped their bounds might be an excellent idea. And a cow bell for good measure.
Tylah held the rose out to him, her face flushed with chagrin. "Alistair, I'm sorry, I ah... I don't feel that way about you. You're like my brother, so um, please don't do that again. Here's your rose back."
XXX
Back at camp...
XXX
He had his tent set up properly for company, and Zevran was well satisfied. There was a bowl of hot water holding a vial of scented oil of the very sort he used on his own sore muscles, a small trivet with a pot of tea, and his bedroll was spread out, adorned with two extra pillows he had purchased from the Feddics. All was in place and ready for his plans of the evening. Plans that pertained to sweet Tylah, her raspberry lips, cinnamon brown locks being freed of their their leather thong prisons, and clothes being discarded.
However, he would not be allowed to be subtle, otherwise Tylah may not pick up on his advances. It rather galled him that to display his interest in no uncertain terms would require him being so... crude. And yet the bliss would be reward enough, along with the fact that if his efforts paid off Tylah would spend all her nights in his tent instead of just some nights; in his arms, nestled close where her breath coasting over his neck could lull him to sleep; that was where he wanted her. As much as he enjoyed the novelty of merely sleeping with another person, he would much rather try doing something other than sleeping with her for once. It should be a proper outlet to express some of these odd feelings he held for her.
Giving the tent a last cursory glance, Zevran grinned gleefully and scuttled from his tent to find his Warden.
Sneaking up behind her as she returned from one of those pleasant rarities that was a nice bath, Zevran plucked from her hand one of the leather strips she used to tie her hair. "Tchk, my dear Tylah, you look so tired."
"Oooh! You move too quiet! Sneaky rogues! Should put a collar with a kitty bell on you to warn us poor warriors of impending attack." Tylah turned on him hand reaching out, attempting to retrieve the leather strip that he held just out of reach. He watched as she sighed heavily and crossed her arms. "I didn't get any sleep last night."
"I know, my dear, I know," purring at her as he dared to run a finger along her jaw. "I know what you need, though. I've just the thing."
"You've bottled up a good night's sleep and are willing to share?" Her expression was so hopeful, the bright pink of her lips wrapping about each word the way he wanted them to wrap about his tongue.
Laughing, Zevran stepped closer so that he caught the scent of water still upon her skin. "You could say that. I assure you, your rest afterwards would be deep."
"Okay, I'm game!" Tylah almost bounced into him in her excitement. "So what's this bottled up secret?"
Turning her towards the camp, he wrapped an arm about her waist. "I learned many things growing up in a whorehouse. Massage is one of the more... beneficial things. There are many techniques I learned from the whores, and I've not forgotten a one. I plan on showing you my entire repertoire."
Tylah leaned her head into his shoulder briefly. "You're one of a kind you know that? I don't think I've ever had a better friend than you."
Warmth suffused him, and Zevran pulled her closer. "I'm glad you approve."
Attaining his tent, he followed Tylah and turned to fasten the tents' flaps closed. Then he shucked his boots and belt, turning towards Tylah to take the first steps. Instead of finding her ready to meet him, he saw her shimmying free of her smallclothes and getting ready to lay down. Biting his tongue, Zevran held in a sigh. However, he could work with this. Removing his shirt he grabbed the vial of warmed oil and poured some on his palms, working it over them enough to give him just a touch of slip.
Straddling her thighs, Zevran winced at all the scars that patterned her body. In some ways they were attractive he mused, starting at the small of her back, feeling the knotted tension there. In other ways the scars were hideous. He put Tylah at mid-twenties at the oldest, and for her to be covered from head to toe already didn't bode well. Especially as most of the scars still held hints of the pink of fresh healing. Beneath him, Tylah moaned, and Zevran worked harder on that particular bunched up muscle, digging the heels of his palms in and pushing the skin up and out. While the night wasn't proceeding as quickly as he preferred, Zevran found that he couldn't deny that he liked doing just this. Taking care of Tylah's hurts in this manner was quite pleasing, about as much as when it was his wounds she took care of, instead of Wynne seeing to him.
Working his way up to her shoulders, Zevran leaned down, whispering in her ear, "So tense you are my dear. Shall I continue?"
"Mmmpleasedoooooo," groaning, Tylah shifted her head rolling a dazed eye back at him.
"Your wish," assenting, Zevran kissed her shoulder as she sighed.
More than an hour later Zevran was finally finished with her back and legs, and all he could reach of her front. So he began the next step, adding more oil, drizzling it directly along her spine. Stroking her flesh with light hands, he dipped, placing several soft kisses on her back as merely caressed her. Tylah sighed dreamily, and he couldn't help but smile, making his way over her hips with his hands slipping along, giving a light caress to her inner thighs and a nip to her waist. There was a tiny little groan as she rolled over and Zevran felt his already aching arousal flinch in anticipation. But it wasn't to be, for when he moved to kiss from her hip up her stomach he hissed in his disapointment.
Letting his forehead fall to Tylah's stomach, he groaned in quiet agony. "...shit..."
Tylah Tabris, his beloved Warden, was asleep, and he hadn't the heart to awaken her.
XXX
Fresh camp, post battle...
XXX
Zevran was tired, cranky, and generally put out. Tylah still crawled into his pallet every few nights, but still appeared utterly oblivious to his advances. And the one time she had come in, and he had made sure to be nude under his blanket she had left in a flurry of apologies, scampering away. After that she had taken to asking him if he was 'decent' before 'bothering' him. Most aggravating was the fact that she thought her presence was a burden when he didn't see it that way at all.
Frustrating, yes. Agonizing, sometimes. But burdensome? Absolutely never.
Twitching his shoulders as he removed his armor, Zevran worked the sweaty straps loose. Tylah flopped down beside him, and began working on her plate greaves sighing happily as the weight fell free with clangs. He couldn't help but echo her sigh of relief when she worked on his own greaves as he tossed his spaulders aside. Alistair walked by swayed and then fell face first into Tylah's lap.
Pushed past the levels of his tolerance, Zevran snapped, reaching down and hauling the shem up by the back of his collar. "You insolent oaf! Why must you always do these things? To my Tylah!" He wasn't thinking clearly and his mastery of Ferelden slipped, but the straw that broke the camel's back need not be a heavy one. Winding his arm back to slam it in Alistair's surprised face, Zevran was brought up short by hands locking around his forearm. "None of you appreciate her the way I do, and yet you persist in staring at her! At grabbing with your needy hands, looking at parts of her body that you have no right to!" Shaking Alistair, Zevran got in his face, ripping his arm free from whoever was holding him in place. "Who rushes in front of her to take blows? I do! Who talks her to sleep so that she can gain a moment of rest? I DO!" Not caring that he was raving, Zevran snarled.
"Zevran! What's gotten in to you?" Tylah grabbed his arm again before he could punch Alistair.
Dropping the shemlen he turned to Tylah, jabbing a finger in the direction of the others. "Everybody insists upon touching you! Everybody continues lookingat your bosom and those divine legs and that soft mouth you possess! I see their avarice! I see it! And I am no longer going to stand for it! You are beautiful and good - and not fit for them to look at you like you are some object to use as they will!" Grabbing her by the shoulders, Zevran gave her a little shake. "The other night I dreamed of you round and heavy with child, waddling, and it was the most beautiful thing in the Maker's world!" Shaking her again, Zevran cried out, uncaring for the spectacle he was making. "Do you not feel the same? Why do you let these filthy people paw at you?"
Surprisingly strong hands took hold of him and hauled him away from the others, even as he couldn't stop his mouth from running. He couldn't stop saying these things that had been bottled up, pouring the confusion out in a great flood. Zevran was still carrying on; all he could see was the red haze that demanded satisfaction and answers, when the ground rose up to meet his rear. Grunting, Zevran shook his head, only to realize that Tylah was straddling him, her hands taking hold of his head and he was cut off mid-sentence by soft lips pressing to his and a slick tongue invading his mouth.
Silenced, Zevran returned the kiss with the same ardor he had put into his crazed tirade. Groaning his protest when Tylah broke free, Zevran dipped his face attempting to reach her neck. However she held him back. Sometimes Tylah could be so cruel.
"Done?" Fingers tugged at his hair, forcing his head away from hers to meet her eyes.
Finding a pout working its way onto his face, Zevran groused. "Possibly. It depends."
Tylah laughed at him, the sound musical even as she took each of his cheeks in hand, pinching them. "You are the most adorable friend I've ever had, did you know that?"
The word 'friend' struck him like a physical blow, and Zevran tried to turn his face away, but Tylah's mouth sought his out too fast for him to pull back. And once more he was swamped in the sensation of her lips and tongue, along with the realization that she was in his arms. Grasping her firmly to him, Zevran poured every ounce of his blasted, confusing feelings into the kiss, praying it would be enough to sway Tylah from thinking of him as just a friend.
It was him who broke away first this time, panting. "Do you kiss all your friends in such a way?"
"No, just my best friend," she replied, tracing his nose with a calloused fingertip.
"And who would be this most fortunate-"
Once more he was lost until they separated, gasping for air equally in need of oxygen.
"Done yet?" Tylah asked him again.
Clearing his throat cautiously, Zevran side-stepped. "So... what do best friends receive other than kisses of this nature?"
Her smile was impish. "Antivan massages." His thoughts on how well the last Antivan massage had gone must have shown clearly, for she laughed outright. "Ones where we don't fall asleep until we're both satisfied."
Unable to stop the grin from bursting across his face, Zevran kissed her raspberry soft lips. "Oh these things you say, amora."