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Zevran the Great

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He was an elf of many talents, from taking life to giving one pleasure, he had a nice showcase of skills. He had to, with the life he led. A smile could be as disarming as a blade, though his warden was quick to parry. She had a sharp smile of her own. Some might find it sharper than his, even. He’d have a difficult time arguing with them.

The talent he showed her tonight was one he kept to himself. After so many years, he couldn’t figure why it had never seemed necessary to use - perhaps the opportunity had never presented itself? - but now, it seemed crucial.

“That feels nice.”

“Of course it does.” Zevran paused at her snort and watched her curiously, waiting for an elaboration. She always found things amusing - even things he couldn’t. It was unbelievably refreshing to be matched in wit and charm, though he knew he couldn’t match her for everything. She was an exceptionally spirit and he was lucky to be in her presence. At any time she could choose to cast him away, but he planned to enjoy every moment he had with her until then. “Well?” He prompted, quirking a brow at the silence.

“Oh,” she sighed, rolling her wrist airily. Zevran smirked at the gesture. He had to wonder if she realized how entrancing her smaller actions were. “You’re always so proud of yourself. I was amused. Not that you don’t have a reason to be.” She reached to touch his face, her fingers brushing against his jaw as Zevran turned his head to catch her fingertips with his lips, pursing them softly before returning her smile.

He combed his fingers through her hair, gently easing the dark tresses through his fingers before he started to weave them expertly. She had laughed at his insistence that he could manipulate her hair as well as he ever could her body. Zevran had risen to the occasion - even going as far as finding some sparse vegetation to add to her braid. He took his time, partially to focus on her hair, and partially to enjoy her soft humming. If he waited long enough, she’d start singing. The songs she made up were silly, and sometimes lapsed into elvhen he wasn’t familiar with, but she sang about him and it was nice to know he had somehow managed to rest on the warden’s mind.

“There you are.” He bowed to kiss her newly exposed neck. Zevran tipped his head back when she stood, brushing her hands against her behind before gingerly touching the crown of hair on her head.

“Do I look Antivan?” She posed, turning back and forth before grinning and reaching for his hands, pulling Zevran up to his feet and barely waiting for him to balance himself before she jumped on him, wrapping her legs around his middle and kissing him deeply. “Are these twigs in my hair?”

“You’re not going to call me resourceful?”

“Oh, you know you’re resourceful.” She watched him smugly, tracing the ink on his cheek before giving him a soft peck on the lips. “Zevran the Resourceful. Zevran the Hairdresser… Zevran the Resourceful Hairdresser?” She laughed as he kissed her furrowed brows, brushing his lips over her face before wrapping his arms around her. “Zevran the Great,” she decided with a sigh. “It’d make a nice song, I think.”

“I can’t wait to hear it, my darling.”