Dragon Age One Shots

Valentine's DA, Zevran

After political negotiations all day from Arl Eamon, all you want to do is crawl into your luxurious bed and sleep. Assuming Morrigan and Sten aren't standing around in the room. Pinching into the bridge of your weary nose, as you approach the door of your accommodations you spot a sprinkling of red dashed against the stone floor.

Blood? It's not surprising that's the first thought to enter your mind after the long year you had, but as you wipe the exhaustion from your eyes a new answer and more questions emerge.

Rose petals?

And not as if a fading stem suddenly shed before the door. No, there's an entire line leading away and deeper into the estate. You turn your head to follow the trail but it vanishes around a bend. Curious, you forget your need to sleep and walk down the red rose road. It begins to thin out by the second turn, a single petal here and there pointing to the next twist in this path. With your head tipped down, your sight upon the ground, you're barely aware of where you are in Eamon's estate.

Knights dash past, guards stroll on by without a word, only the servants glare at the floral mess debating who'll clean it up. No one says a word of explanation as you turn the the last twist past a mabari statue to find the petal trail leading to a closed door. Where even are you?

As you lay your cheek to the door, trying to listen for a hint inside, your eyes dart up and down the hall. But this section is so far removed no one wanders past.

Curiosity winning, you turn the knob and press ever forward.

Candlelight dances against a mass of red satin tumbling from a low bed to the floor. And perched upon that red satin, without a care in the world, is a naked Zevran. "Ah Warden," he smiles, that taut body stretched out on his side, his head propped up in a hand.

Rising from his reclining state, he swings a foot around to sit perched right upon the edge, still fully naked and still making no excuses for it. Absently, he stirs his hand over the silky blanket, eyes beaming into yours.

"Ze...Zev?" you mutter, your gaze drinking in his lackadaisical stretch.

"You know, it occurred to me, that after all of our rigorous tramping about in this backwater land's politics..." He licks his lips, hunger burning in those whimsical brown eyes. Patting a hand on the red satin sheets, he growls, "We never once found the time to 'break' this place in."

Smirking, you kick the door closed. "Took you long enough," you purr, working quickly to shrug off your shirt.

Zev's hands reach out to help, fingers brushing over every tantalizing offer before him. "Excellent. All I need is you, five feet of rope, and something slippery!"