The Amell Legacy: Transgressions

[Zevran]

Zevran flips the current batch off the griddle, then turns so he's facing her directly on the log. "To start on the surface? That your eyes are filled with life and fire when you are excited or protective. With drive and passion when you are caught up in an idea. It means that your smile warms the soul even as your smirk warms the blood. It means that your hands are graceful and sure, your legs lean and endless, your butt and breasts a delightful handful each. Deeper, it means that you have a brilliance that is not limited to your intellect, a passion you don't seem to know how to channel- yet- and a... jaded innocence that entices the delightfully wicked such as ma'Bela and I to tempt and cuddle you in equal measure." As he speaks, he slowly leans in, finishing within her personal space but only just.

[Marian Hawke]

She gapes up at him, astonished, a blush spreading across her cheeks, her nose, the tips of her ears. It's clear she's never in her life been spoken to such; it's clear she appreciates it, leaning forward just a touch subconsciously. It seems all thoughts of his skin are gone, in favor of his lips, his fingers, his eyes.

"I..."

[Zevran]

Zevran smiles lazily, eyes filling with heat. "Yes?" he prompts her with a whisper.

[Marian Hawke]

Her answer is to lean forward and kiss him, suddenly, urgently.

[Zevran]

Zevran returns the kiss eagerly enough, reaching up to twine his fingers her hair. He does, however, place the palm of his other hand on her shoulder, intending to keep her from... pushing forward too much with this kiss. If she wants to take her time with it, on the other hand, he is fine with that- he didn't put fresh batter on the griddle for a reason after all. 

[Marian Hawke]

She kisses him hungrily, desperately, like a man dying of thirst and he's the only source of water for miles. She does push forward, against his hand, trying to reach closer to him, but when she's restrained she gives a soft little whine, almost canine in her desire.

[Zevran]

Zevran indulges her- and himself- with a long, through kiss, only breaking off when he hears a muffled gasp. Breaking off, he just catches the sight of Lightsong ducking back into the tent she shares with Marian. Which has been awkward. "Marian?" he murmurs.

[Marian Hawke]

She rubs at her face, trying to shake off the lingering effects of the kiss. "Privacy," she gasps, then shakes her head. "Don't worry about Haliel. She understands."

[Zevran]

Zevran stares at her for a long moment. "...she did not seem... understanding of what she saw," he says carefully. "Do not think me uninterested, but I do not wish to cause friction between you and your... friend?"

[Marian Hawke]

"It's fine," she insists. "She's not-- she can't give me what I need. She knows I don't hold it against her. It just-- it just bothers her, that she can't."

[Zevran]

Zevran frowns, then shrugs a little. "You know her better than I," he allows. "Perhaps... perhaps we could... see about waking Isabela up?"

[Marian Hawke]

"Yes," she whines, swallowing. "But-- breakfast. Someone..."

[Zevran]

Zevran twists to the side and nudges the pot off the fire slightly. "It can simmer until another wakes," he says as he rises to his feet. "You clearly need to... destress." Smile in place once more, he reaches down to help her to her feet. 

[Marian Hawke]

She takes his hand, swallowing her objections as she rises. "Alright," she says, eagerly trotting after him to find her new trainer for another obedience lesson.

[Varric]

Alas, only twenty minutes later someone tosses a hastily made bit of flashpaper into their tent. After a fair bit of cursing, the three stumble their way out of the tent to find the rest of the group sitting in tense silence around the campfire. Varric is scowling at them, Helene is finishing breakfast and Haliel is... sitting with her back to the tents, shoulders tense.

"Glad you could join us," the dwarf says evenly. "Eat fast, we're behind schedule."