The Drow Queen of Glaley [Very NSFW]

[Coquette Blacquin]

"Check if it's Zevran," says Coquette's even, quiet voice. 

"Uh," grunts the orc in affirmative. "The bones have spoken. He is the father."

[Zevran]

Thump.

[GamesMaster]

When Zevran comes to, he's warm. Excessively warm, despite their height and the general coldness of the ship. As he cracks an eye open, he discovers the reason: the roughly 12 furs heaped atop him as he lays in the master bed, a warm, damp cloth on his forehead. Isabela paces the room, worrying her lower lip between her teeth, obviously concerned. 

[Zevran]

Ohthankthegodsitwasafeverdream. "'ela," he croaks out weakly, wanting not just her attention for help but also to soothe the stress he can see on her face even across the admittedly cramped room.

[Isabela]

"Zevran," she says, relief showing plain on her face for a moment. "You suddenly fainted, I was worried you might be ill."

[Zevran]

"I must have caught Coquette's fever," he manages, trying not to sound relieved. And trying not to think overly much about her use of the word 'fainted.'

[Isabela]

"No fever, but I was worried the chill, or the high altitude might have... are you alright? I didn't overdo it with the furs, did I? I'm not very good at..."

[Zevran]

"No... fever?" he asks weakly. Fuuuuuuck. "You are sure?"

[Isabela]

"I... yes? Oh, let me check again," she frets, moving to press the back of her hand against his head. "You're warmer, you were so cold when I moved you in here. But I think that's just the rag -- you're not clammy anywhere else?" she asks, grabbing for his hand to check. 

[Zevran]

"My stomach," Zevran offers, but takes a deep breath as he grabs ahold of his courage. "What-- what happened? Before I... passed out?"

[Isabela]

"Cibek had just confirmed the father of... well, that you're the father of the child." There's a shadow in her eyes as she says it, but she gives a little laugh. "I didn't realize you and her were so close, I suppose." 

[Zevran]

"She's my wife," he replies blankly, heart racing and gut turning to solid ice. "I'm-- you're sure? He's sure? I mean, he could be-- he could be wrong, no? Divination is not foolproof? I cannot be-- I--" His breathing has begun to speed up, unnoticed by the merikos drow, as is the trembling in his body.

[Isabela]

Isabela sits on the edge of the bed, looking at him intently. "Zev," she says quietly. "Did she... take advantage of... her position in your household?" she asks slowly. Blast, I'm no good at things like this. 

[Zevran]

"Sometimes, and most often to her own detriment," Zevran murmurs, heartache adding to his rebellious body. "Wait. You mean--" His eyes widen and he struggles partially upright. "No! She was-- She was never--" He laughs harshly. "She was never her wife."

[Isabela]

"A woman must not be the depths of depravity to rape a slave," she grumbles. "If you say the word, the babe nor she will be a problem anymore."