The Drow Queen of Glaley [Very NSFW]

[The Iron Bull]

"Gaaah," Bull gasps, shuddering. He swallows repeatedly, sucking in a ragged breath. "Fuck."

[Coquette Blacquin]

"Exactly,"  he smirks. 

[Coquette Blacquin]

This morning, Coquette receives Zevran in the back garden, among the roses. She lays out a spread for breakfast: various baked goods, jams, and preserves, along with a pot of tea each. "Zevran! Good morning," she greets him, gesturing for him to have a seat. The Iron Bull is, of course, nearby, hulking in the background as always. "Please, have a seat. I have a serious matter to discuss with you."

[Zevran]

Zevran, eyes closed and head lowered as he walks through backyard, opens them just a slit when he reaches the blanket. In sharp departure from previously, he's wearing a loose, flowing silk robe of russet red, held closed only only by a belt at the waist so it shows tantalizing hints of skin. As he settles into place, his robes part to show most of his chest, the tattoos glowing faintly blue in the dim light of the shade rose. He smiles, an expression that speaks of felines to Coquette, to show that's he's both aware of just how flirtatious and outright slutty he's portraying himself and inviting her to be amused along with him at his display.

"Oh? Is that discuss? Or discuss?" he asks coyly, tracing a finger on his thinly clad thigh. Most assuredly guarding nearby, Bull watches all this with both interest and confusion.

[Coquette Blacquin]

Her smile grows into a smirk. "One, then the other," she purrs. Then she shakes her head, throwing off the smile. "No, sorry, I must speak of serious matters first. Please, have a scone."

[Zevran]

Zevran pouts playfully, but reaches for a scone. He pauses, the gesture slowing as if to stall as he considers something. A queer look crosses his face, one she can't quite put her-- his head is now in her lap?

He looks ups at her, expression innocent, eyes mirthful and soul scars testing, challenging. "What? Is this not how one does in Alessia?" he asks in a soft, breathy voice. He makes no effort to affect the masculine tones of it, but otherwise it is a perfect match for any portrayal of a doe-eyed, pure-hearted young maiden in love as shown on a Glalian stage.

[Coquette Blacquin]

Startled at first by the suddenness, she smiles down at him, moving to stroke his hair. "I care not for what is the norm in Alessa. I care only for the comfort and happiness of my household."

Still, she seems a bit troubled, biting at her lip. "I have discovered what my wife bargained with for your freedom," she says softly. "You were correct. She has bargained away a child. I find this... disturbing, to say the least. As well, I have evidence that she has been... more callous in her business dealings than  I had previously suspected. I am perturbed."

[Zevran]

Zevran goes utterly, completely, still. His eyes had opened fully when she started speaking on the serious matter of bargains and fate. At the word 'child' his tattoos flare brightly and yet he still does not move. The playful housecat in her lap, capable of harm yes, but generally agreeable and non-aggressive, has vanished in order to leave behind a tortured wildcat that knows full well what evils mortals can inflict on others. Across the clearing, Bull tenses, wishing desperately that he could pull Cindy away from Zevran right the fuck now but knowing he'd never be fast enough. Thankfully, he knows that Cedric has to be awake and aware, given the topic, so hopefully...

[Coquette Blacquin]

Sure enough, her voice goes colder, harder. "It matters not. I-- we-- will not allow this bargain to conclude. We already are planning to secret you away before any such thing can occur. So. It is merely information."

[Zevran]

Pale blue eyes finally blink, then close. As he does so, Coquette is suddenly struck that his eye color is distinctly non-drow, a strange detail for someone that otherwise looks the part so closely. "It is not a bargain that can happen," Zevran says very quietly. "My apologizes for..." He trails off with a sigh.

[Coquette Blacquin]

A distinct pause. "You are infertile?" asks the cold voice, calculating. Then a smile, relief writ across her face. "ah. We can pretend all we like, then, and achieve nothing that she can use against us."

[Zevran]

A soft laugh. "According to over a score of healers and as many diviners? No, I'm actually very potent in that regards. And yet my Master has used more than five years and well over two hundred females of a dozen different races failing to breed me." His lips twist into a smirk. "I suppose I am simply cursed. Or blessed, depending on how one views the matter."

[Coquette Blacquin]

The relaxation in her face begins to spread to her tight shoulders, her tense hands. "I see. Then let us not concern ourselves with impossibilities and instead enjoy the time we have together before your departure, hmm?"

[Zevran]

Just that? No words for the lack or the number both? Interesting.

And perhaps a touch annoying, he admits to himself. The reactions of his keepers and their families or whatnot are among his very limited pleasures. "Why?" he asks curiously. "Why spend your time with me instead of one of your loves?" 

[Coquette Blacquin]

"You're leaving, soon. I would get to know you first. Unless you don't wish to get to know me?"