Little Quirks - Zevran x Kaelan Tabris
Zevran had made a living watching from a distance. That was the first step to any successful job, after all. A crow is suited to high branches and rooftops, and it only dives when it is sure it will return with a prize between its beak.
But his Warden was no prize. At least, not in so crude a sense.
The problem was simple, but not something Zevran was used to overcoming. Making connections - planting seeds of relationships - was something he had learned to approach with caution since he was a boy. If it was to be done, it was to be tactical; a means to an end. Yet, the times he tried such an approach, he inevitably found it difficult to remove the mask and free himself of the masquerade. He liked to think he had a lover’s heart. It wasn’t his fault it rested in the body of an assassin.
Over the years, he learned to be careful with it - preserve it as best he could. He didn’t like to think about who he might become if he didn’t.
Yet, for whatever reason, he had ignored his own boundaries with the Warden; that fiery young man who had picked him up off the ground and called him ally. In truth, Zevran had been joking when he suggested it. A bit of gallows humour to soften the final blow. When staring at death, he at least wanted his last words to be memorable to the one who killed him. Perhaps he would haunt their memory - become one of the many ‘what ifs’ of their past. The fallen assassin who had the audacity to offer his services to his mark…
Needless to say, Kael was the last person on Thedas Zevran had imagined growing close to. Every night, he expected the strange arrangement to fall apart. For him to wake to a knife in his gut, staring up at the sneering face of reality, bitter and obvious. You didn’t really think I’d let you live, did you?
But the knife never came.
