faderift | [ CLOSED ] Midnight Rendezvous

Entry tags:

[ CLOSED ] Midnight Rendezvous

WHO: Zevran Arainai, Michel de Chevin
WHAT: Discussing that Delivery
WHEN: Shortly after this conversation
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: Swearing, discussing of murder and gold, emotions.

It'd been heated, their last conversation. Zevran had settled somewhat after Michel confessed and fled- then Luciano and everything that came with suddenly being a parent. Then a stab of visceral fear that is so new to him and all the more terrifying for it. He had not reacted, probably, in the best way. But they are overdue a conversation, he and Michel.

Far overdue.

It is late and Luciano is sleeping peacefully next to Dogrhen, perhaps a little more Fereldan than Zevran would like but- it is so amusing an image he cannot help but let the pup persist.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"I do not know- I would have joined the Inquisition there but-" He tipped his head back to the door and the sleeping babe beyond. Sudden changes in priorities. Changes he had not yet informed many people of just yet.

"They also like to swarm once the scout is felled. The Alphas you will know for how large they are, they tend to use warhammers or battle axes." Anything more, well, he had likely heard from the Grey Wardens.

"Does he favor you- ah...no, you don't have to answer that," it was momentary curiosity on Michel's part, "it's easy to see how you were side tracked."

"I...haven't really had the opportunity to come across them in the desert yet, but that should prove useful. A giant on the other hand...apparently I'm not the only one who enjoys a good oasis."

"Ah-" But Michel took it back and spared Zevran having to sort out how to best answer. It wasn't something he'd thought much about. The child was a child? And his. "Giants are actually quite fun if you have a ledge, some rope, and a grappling hook."

Michel knew he didn't look much like his mother, because his father had been human, but he did have her sunny hair and wintery eyes. Perhaps that's why she chose to keep him? Michel didn't know, keeping him had not benefitted her in any way...but that was his own pain.

For the time being he raised an eyebrow at Zevran, "you have fun with the giants? Like wrangling chickens fun?"

"Like swinging from chandeliers fun. You hook them about one of their tusks and leap from the ledge, making certain to swing around them rather than at them- on your way down? You entangle them in the rope! It is marvelous fun and looks quite impressive if I do say so myself." And he's done it many a time.

"You swing from many chandeliers in your spare time?" Leave it to Michel to focus less on the Giant and more on Zevran's hobbies. Michel could say he's never swung from a chandelier, he doubted one could hold him properly without crashing to the ground.

Shaking his head slowly he brought himself back to that oasis, "somehow the giants there seen more aggressive than the ones in Emprise du Lion, they jump a lot further too, but I suspect that's because there's less risk in it."

"Well- no. But if the situation calls for it?" Why not have fun with the job now and then. It was an efficient path if not a subtle one, but by the time an assassin was considering 'should I leap from the balcony or use the chandelier' usually stealth was no longer quite so vital a thing. There was some comfort in being infamous, even if it had bought him no end of trouble with the Crows.

He could not say one way or the other if it'd been worth it. The odd twinge from his new scars and constant reminder with the milky eye made gauging it difficult. But he came away alive and that...that was worth something. "Perhaps it is because they are more hot under the collar yes?"

Ah, puns. Would they ever get old?

"It sounds like something I've read in books, but I've never actually scene in action," Chevalier were known for acrobatics during a fight and Michel has been known to balance on benches and less when in a one on one duel. Gaspard nearly killed him in one infamous battle. So perhaps he shouldn't be quite so surprised by it.

His thoughts were distracted by Zevran's pun, however, and he laughed, but from him it was less pleasant and more unusual. Like something he hadn't used in quite some time, a return to certain serious Chevalier habits perhaps, "ah...that one was bad, even for you."

"I am not in top form, alas." Sleeping poorly as the child was sleeping poorly, sleeping poorly due to every shift and sneeze and whimper waking him up at night, at his dreams of raising a ruin, of getting his son killed, of selling him to the Crows just to be rid of him-

Many fears kept Zevran awake. Most of them tied to the infant, but not in the way most might think. "As it is- I ought to return. Lucci is liable to wake at any moment and the Dog can keep him calm only for so long."

"Not your fault...I can imagine. It's been a while, but I still remember babies," though what that meant, Michel didn't elaborate on it, he wasn't all that fond of thinking about things so far back. Less and less as time went on.

"Apologies, monsieur, I have kept you longer than intended," a quick exchange had been his only expectation tonight and with that he hoisted the trunk. He did not know how much time he had before daylight, but he could cover a great deal of ground between now and first light if he got started. As he mentioned, rest was an unnecessary thing, "I do have one thing I would like to ask of you, if you do not mind."

"You may ask but I may or may not be able to manage it." The child takes up most of his time, now, and that will continue to be so until he's able to find someone that can mind him while he works. Which is a balancing of time he had never truly expected to need to find. "But I shall try."

"It shouldn't require you to lift a finger, monsieur," Michel pulled the hood back over his eyes and hoisted the trunk back up under his arms. Even with this he could still make it out without looking conspicuous, "just that I wasn't here."

"Ah, that manner of favor. Of course." None shall hear it from him that Michel came, that they spoke. He can manage that much. "Ride safely, yes?"

"Ride?" Michel was hooded so Zevran couldn't see him, but he looked momentarily confused, but...ah, he didn't know, "I walked, for the most part, from the Emprise. I came in with some refugees."

It wouldn't be quite as easy getting out while shouldering this, but he wasn't going to risk a horse. Too conspicuous, especially since his could have been recognized. It naturally raised the question as to how he intended to sneak back out again, things were too quiet, there wasn't as much movement as their had been earlier in the day when he'd arrived. Was he really going to carry that trunk with him?

"...You walked." That- why would he do something like that? People rode in often enough for it to go without question, he could have left his horse at a camp in the valley and walked the mountain up-

"...I do not know if this makes you some manner of fool or disturbingly determined." Michel was going to carry that chest all the way back to Emprise. Maker's breath.

"I suppose the simple explanation is that I already pushed Charlemagne from the Approach to the Emprise. He deserved a break and I have two perfectly good legs," that and Michel was going for as discreet as he possibly could. His horse was recognizable and...he had no intention of leaving him alone for very specific reasons, "and since you called for me I did not want you to wait. It would have taken me out of the way a few days...and, honestly, I can cover just as much ground on foot if I break sparingly."

"If you fall and break your neck you will be helping no one." Was that concern? That was concern. Friendly concern. Exhausted, friendly concern and- this was simpler when they spend most of their time in bed. There were fewer questions about sentiment- they could feel how they felt and act on it without having to discuss such things. "...Walk with care, then. And do let me know when you arrive safely in the Western Approach, yes?"

He will worry.

That was damning enough, that he would worry.

"Fortunately I've learned a fatiguing amount about balance," night and day training that was endless, but now he could fence on very narrow surfaces. He was certain that climbing down a mountain with a trunk balanced on his shoulders for a time wouldn't be a problem. He wasn't carrying it all the way back to the Emprise, he was rather serious about getting rid of it.

"I find saying 'no' to you very difficult, had you a desire to collar or sound me I would have said yes. I can probably manage letting you know when I arrive." Why yes, Michel did peek at your books, you should be aware of that now if there is to be open honesty. There's plenty of shadow after all, he doesn't have to worry about his face, "you...take care as well. Ah...drooling, ear pulling, cheek rubbing, and lack of appetite...are a few signs to look for if he starts cutting a tooth. Just in case he suddenly becomes...irrational."

At least for an infant. Michel has seen enough to know that much.

"..." He was going to say something, he knew that he meant to say something but that-

Mental image, not even of having Michel collared and bound, but the mere idea of him reading those books, of wanting that- or willing-

"I-. You. We just agreed-" Oh Maker this wasn't fair. At all. In the slightest. Zevran finds himself listing forward before exhaustion and good sense comes over him. Starting afresh. Without the sex.

Maker he said they were going to start again without the sex what is wrong with him?! "Please, then. It is no order- merely a request. Between friends."

Because they can be that without the- yes? Yes.

Michel didn't know how he felt about it, initially, inserting something into the meatus, stretching the urethra. The book was very specific when he'd read it, but it seemed like it might be something that would have tested his endurance and stimulated his senses in a way that certain other acts would not have.

He was teasing, natural, of course he hadn't forgotten.

"Yes, but I can't help teasing you just a little bit," though it did surprise him that he could tease Zevran and receive such a response. He wondered if he'd almost gone too far with it.

Adjusting the trunk, he nodded underneath the hood.

"I'll contact you, I promise...and when you make that move and you think you might have need of me...you can reach me any time," perhaps there were too many innuendos in this conversation?

"...well played." He managed to crackle a soft laugh, scrubbing his face with a hand as though that would rid it of it's blush. Flustered- he did not fluster easily and yet Michel managed.

What a time to have regrets.

"I have need of you now, but we both know that is unwise. I am trying to be...kinder, yes? More honest. Less confusing. Besides- the spirit is willing but the body is bruised and exhausted." Falling out of bed to keep Lucci from falling out of bed is not something he wants to do more than once a week.

"I'll remain a virgin in such regards...but yes...let's get to know one another first and if things ever decide that they want to be less confusing and you're not too bruised and exhausted...then unreservedly," Michel couldn't forget some of the things that had felt good, but he could resist, "I'll call you when I return to the Appraoch...and when you leave this place and still think you'll have need of my skills..."

Well he had but to ask.

"It stopped being about your skills some time ago, Michel. It simply became about...you. Which was frightening for me for many a reason but I no longer quite have the luxury if hiding behind old excuses." More honest than he'd like to be, but- he said he would be more open. That he would try. As a father he spends most of his energy on his son, truly. He cannot spare any for pretending otherwise. "I will let you know. It should be by the end of this month or a few weeks into the next."

It was a terrible idea, the urge that came next. One he ought to ignore. One he should. One he...could not quite manage to tamp down entirely. Zevran stepped around, leaning up enough to press his lips against Michel's cheek.

That was friendly enough, wasn't it? Safe. "Take care, Soleil."

Edited 2016-06-21 14:53 (UTC)

Michel had to stop himself from reaching out and bracing his body against the nearest wall. Those were unexpected words and they left him feeling...unexpectedly weak, more so than his travels from the Approach to Orlais and from Orlais to Skyhold had. No matter what he said to Zevran, he was damned for him still. All he could do was nod wordlessly as he attempted to process what the man was saying.

And then Zevran came around, Michel wasn't certain what he was going to do...shake his hand, pat him on the shoulder? He expected a number of things, but he didn't expect to feel those lips against his cheek. Soft and smoother than silk, as smooth as he remembered, such a gesture sent his blood hammering through his veins. He could say honestly to himself that he'd never reacted this way toward anyone else.

"Your lips must rub a little tender, kissing a man with stubble," which was why he turned his head just a bit so that Zevran's lips weren't against his cheek, but his lips as the Chevalier spoke, "au revoir, bel home."

He lightly mouthed Zevran's upper lip before drawing back in case temptation got the better of him, "I will be in touch."

He should have expected the turn, expected the way so soft and light a brush of capped lips against his own would have his breath catch in his throat. Should have known to hold himself against the lean that bid him follow after Michel even as he withdrew.

Friends. Without the sex, without the masks. Trying to be kinder, to be easier- and yet they seemed determined to undermine one another's resolve, even inadvertently.

Zevran sank back on his heels before he could reach for more, licking his lips for a familiar taste of trouble. Words failed him for a moment and his skin burned even in the dark with his flush. "I will likely be awake."

The child kept him up at odd hours, after all. Before he could do anything else that was terribly foolish he leaned back against the door to his rooms, watching Michel leave with a fragile sort of hope in his eyes.

For what? He could not say.

(no subject)

disgracedchampion - 2016-06-22 02:21 (UTC) - Expand

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only