Disclaimer: I own absolutely and completely nothing. Bioware has that particular pleasure.
Summary: A City-Elf/Bann Teagan collection of drabbles and one-shots based on a prompt table from an LJ-community. These will be more or less in chronological order with the faintest traces of added plot here and there. Will vary from drabble length to one-shot.
Author's note: Your reviews? They were awesome. You were awesome. Best thing after a day at work is to have nice words waiting ;.; Thank you. This chapter is silly. Very silly and it's supposed to be silly. Too much angst and emotional turmoil always bother after a while. It's a small break~
In this chapter: It's totally not his fault. She's just immune damnit.
022.
This is not something that happens often. Really. He can't remember the last time it happened. And that's not because he choose to bury it deep within his subconscious. It just doesn't happen. Zevran looks to the warrior he had been trying to convince for the past five minutes. Trying because the woman – well, seemed like one for the shape – had been staring at him from underneath her helm for that same amount of time. Anything and everything he says just seems to go in one ear, out the other. And he is using all his charm too. If he does anything else, my, he might just have to shed the armor and drag her some place darker and more private.
"What are you two idiots doing here?" A new answer to his advances, indeed.
Is she an old matron? Maker, is she a man? No, those are definitely breasts. A little on the small size but not all can be well endowed. He isn't picky when it comes to breasts. Peach sized, apple sized, orange sized, all of it can be fondled. Of course, he does like a bit of meat on his bones, supple and very easy to grope. Yes. If he continues on this path of thought, he will definitely need the private room. Maybe an extra visit to the Pearl. And right, she's asking something.
"Delivering something." Sten sounds convincing. Almost as convincing as a five year old and slightly less than someone mentally impaired. Assan would have done it better.
And she laughs, a small snicker drowned between the gloves of her armor for whatever reason. The only reason he knows is the one currently bashing his pride to oblivion. He is not this bad at bluffing. How can he not charm one small little female? Very small, by the way. Extremely small. She is slightly smaller than he is if he doesn't count the helm. If he had to hazard a guess, he'd chance her to reach a little more than his eye line. Cute. Childish. He had no idea they needed rogues in this place. Small as she is, that's probably the only thing the woman's good for.
Or, you know, something else. Maker's breath, it has to be his failed flirting. The Pearl is becoming a necessity by the moment. Yes.
"You two," the woman begins, pointing at both Qunari and elf. "Are ridiculous. Truly. Were also supposed to be smarter than this. Don't you bluff people for a living?" Actually, he just kills them. The bluffing is just an added talent. "Why didn't Leliana come? Morrigan? Morrigan can lie much better than you, Sten. Don't try deceiving anyone. With your face, it just doesn't work. What made you think you can get into this place? Not that I don't appreciate it or anything because, truly, I do, but I'm glad I got out. Otherwise."
Light impression he should be feeling incredibly stupid in this particular moment coming up.
Not that tall, not that wide, small breasts, nice posterior, apparently he has been flirting non stop with and then he failed and didn't notice and right, he forgot to use his Maker given eyes. "How did you get through the first door?"
Sten doesn't look surprised. In fact, he looks relieved? No, not that. He has just the right word. Ah, right. Amused. He looks amused. Since when can a Qunari seem amused? Last time he checked, they lacked a proper sense of humor. "Your hound."
She covers her mouth, bites her lips, trembles in her place and then hastens them towards the gigantic doors with none being wise enough to detain them. Only then does she take off the ugly helm. A snicker, a giggle, it grows and grows until it seems ready to burst and then it does so. Loud chuckles, a pure sound of happiness – or freedom. It might be hysteria, the way she's laughing, the way she hugs the large Mabari which keeps hogging her for attention she doesn't seem ready to give – it probably is, considering the way she rambled.. It might even be his ridiculous attempt at bluffing though it obviously wasn't that bad, she was just an unwilling target. He feels better with that thought.
"And it's just sad indeed when a Mabari's smarter than both of you," she whispers between the dog's fur, all between hiccups. "Ah, my brave warrior. What would I do without you?"
He should have killed her.