antivanleather | Sixth jump - you should know, you should know that [Action/Written]

Sixth jump - you should know, you should know that [Action/Written]

[Action, locked to Isaac]

[This is not how Zevran imagined the first few hours of his freedom would be. The wine and the feasting and the drinking the day before, certainly. But the first morning after he had finished collecting his effects and bidding farewell to the Warden he intended to spend on the road. Leaving Ferelden for warmer climes. He did not intend to wake in a cell.

And yet, here he is, despite the best intentions. He wakes slowly arms flexing against his restraints and he keeps his head for the first few moments. Just manacles. Just a cold, dark cave like many that the Crows preferred to use for their longer imprisonments. But were this the Crows he would be dead, that went without saying. No, no. This is a personal vendetta- which leaves Zevran free to consider who it is he pissed off this time to earn such attentions while he works at attempting to lean just enough so that he might pull a pick from his hair. That he has none is worrying.

That there is no manner in which the manacles might be removed is of a greater concern. But when he finds that they actually constrict when he attempts to twist his thumb enough to pop it out of place and holds him all the tighter- then. Then he panics.

Crows are terrible. Nobles are worse. Mages, those that yet live and wish him dead? Horrify him and he used to be better at fighting down the swell of cold fear and the anxious ratcheting of his heart. Used to be able to laugh through it, to grin and smile and shrug off torment such as sensory deprivation and capture. It is cold. It is dark. He is alone. He is held by a mage he cannot recall at the moment and after all that he witness at the final battle in Denerim that is what makes him shift in earnest, rattle his chains and lash out with a foot to find purchase- he finds that his feet are bare and the wall is solid, little more. Brasca.]

[Action, Open]

[Later, when he is freed and his personal effects returned, when he realizes where he is in earnest and is armored and armed and less out of sorts Zev ducks into the Coffee Shop for a cup of something hot and bitter, leaving a rather short note in the journal for whoever might have missed him, though save a bare handful he cannot imagine it would be many. He does not even know if they yet remain.]

While I am pleased to have found my way back to this delightful village, I think awaking in a random bed might have been the better introduction. At least it was warm.

Fondest regards,

Zevran

[After some time spent reacquainting himself with the village's map he, warily, makes his way to House 51.]

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[He's told her that before. Not to cry for him. But the tears start to fall down her face as he steps closer. She does nothing to stop them. Nor does she move away from him. She hates these tears. Hates the weakness they show. Better she be angry. Or happy. She'd take any other emotion but this one.

Because she doesn't think she's all that well. Seeing Zevran here again. Even before he arrived. She's not as shaky as she had been in August. Doesn't hate herself as much as she had then, right around the time he had disappeared. But she lives every day with the fear she'll lose Prim and Richard and Teddy. It's why she's started to learn the filial magic. Why she owes Isaac a yet unfilled debt. Because maybe, just maybe, she'll find a way to keep them here.

She shakes her head. Not well. And at the same time, suddenly all the more determined to find a way to keep people here. Because she doesn't think she can go through losing him again.]

I- I missed you.

[The tears make his mind up for him- this he remembers well enough. Another man, another loss, and he'd held her through it, hoping to ease her grief. Now he is the cause even though he has returned and that- well. He never thought himself someone worth mourning.]

Don't cry- you know how I feel about lovely women crying.

[Easier to joke, to force a smile as he curls a hand around her wrist and pulls her in, familiarizing himself with how she feels against him, the smell of the forest in her hair, the hitch of her shoulders. This. This was his family. This was someone he held dear to his heart above all else. Someone he protected while trusting with their own protection, someone he trusted with his life and his secrets. That mired him in sentiment.

And he has missed her keenly.]

I missed you as well. I did not know who it was I missed but I felt the loss every day I remained.

[She wants to believe him. She's not certain if she does but she wants to believe him nonetheless. That someone could love her that much that they missed her even when they weren't supposed to. Shouldn't be able to. It's not romantic between them. But it's real. It has to be for him to miss her like that. For some part of him to know that she was back here waiting.

After Sokka, after Jim, all she wants is to know she can have something real with someone. Someone knows that Prim loves her. That Richard and Teddy do, too. As a daughter and a sister. But would either of them remember her if they ever return to their homes? She doesn't know. But knowing that Zevran does? It means the world to her.

Katniss hugs him tightly. Her head buries against his chest and even though she knows he has other people he ought to visit, she feels too selfish to let him go anytime soon. She wants to know everything that's happened while he was gone. Tell him everything that's happened.]

I'm not going to let you leave again.

Edited 2013-11-17 00:45 (UTC)

[The longer they stand here the more bits and peices fall into place. Flour and baking and traps and holidays, Peeta and losing him and that painting. Fighting and killing and hearing her cry out as he died- watching her when he returned. It is still muzzy but it is present. It fits. It does not seem near as incongruous as his experience this morning with Isaac and that is likely the kindest thing for the both of them. He cannot imagine walking in this forest without knowing Katniss was out hunting as well. Without remembering her face or her voice or her too small, too fragile smile.

If anyone else has need of him, if there is anyone else he should find- they can wait. Right now all he cares about is holding fast to the one thing that seems certain in this forest.]

Were anyone able to bind me here, Solano, it would be you.

[Natural enough to turn his head and press his lips to her hair, to smooth a gloved hand along it and just. Breathe. Anchor himself in that sentiment, in that he allows himself to express it- and it hasn't killed her.]

[She lets herself smile against his shirt, the tears finally starting to dry up. His hand feels right against her hair, as right as Richard's, as right as placing her own hand against Prim's soft blonde head. He's here. He's really, really here. And for this moment, he won't be going anywhere. She'll kill anyone who tries to take her away.

It feels right to stand here a moment or two more, content to be hugging him. To run her hand up and down his back as he holds her in return. Of everyone here, she's known him the longest. Of everyone who has since left, the only one she might want back more would be Peeta.

Eventually, though, she has to look up. Has to take a look at his features and make certain he's still alright. Still whole. But he looks older. A bit more weariness in his eyes. She places a hand on his cheek. What had happened to him while he had been home? What had he been through?]

Are you okay?

[He catches her hand as it rests along his cheek before it can brush against any of the new, thin scars he has not yet had the opportunity to cover or mend. Turns it just enough so he might press a chaste kiss to her knuckles in order to give himself some time. He did not wish to describe the war and all he witnessed. And yet it is vital in explaining why it is he might be different than before.]

I fought a war.

[Gloved fingers squeeze hers before letting go, smile thinner, sharper than when he had been here last.]

War wears upon a man unaccustomed to it. But I am well. I survived. We were victorious.

[She smiles faintly at the touch of his lips against her knuckles. It feels good, as nice as his hugs had been moments before. When it comes down to it, she doesn't want him to let her go at all. Not until she's really managed to convince herself that this is real. That he's real. That he's back.

But her grip on his hand falters a little when he admits what happens. He lets go of her hand and she immediately reaches for his again. A war. She knows the sort of toll that kind of fight can bring. How hard it must have been for him. And how you never, ever leave a war changed.

She'll never be that girl again. The girl she was before the Hunger Games, before the uprising.

Katniss reaches for his hand and gives it a squeeze. Quietly,]

That's all you can do.

[It's easier to believe he's really here, that she's real rather than a fragment of a remembered dream. That he truly had family, someone he felt that depth of sentiment. Someone he loved and didn't hurt, didn't leave to be hurt. Didn't let down. For that to be true, for this to be real- he still doesn't quite believe it. But the more they hold on, the more they touch, the easier it becomes.

He squeezes her hands, curls his free one around hers. Anchors himself in the smell of a wood in the first edges of winter. In the warmth of her hands and the tone of her voice.]

How do you deal with being free?

[How much she wishes that she had an actual answer for that question. Something that might actually help. But she can't think of anything. For all she's survived a war, for all she's nearly made it two years since, she doesn't know how she's dealt with it. How she's kept surviving. Especially when she had tried to kill herself so shortly after. And tried to do so again less than a year ago.

Her hand squeezes his at the memory, needing to hold tight to someone. To remind herself that she is still alive. Alive and well and, surprisingly, thriving.]

I have people like you.

[She smiles a little shyly. It's true. She has Zevran. She has Richard and Prim. Teddy. Would she have made it this long without them?]

[Perhaps that is enough- but he has no one in Thedas. No family, no lovers, only allies made of circumstance that swiftly departed once the war was over. He could not rely upon the Warden forever...but those are concerns he can wallow in when he returns. For now? He is in Luceti and he has his family.

He tugs her in once more simply because he can, because she is here and real and needs him just as much as he needs her.]

I still think I may have the better deal, here.

[She doesn't hesitate in hugging him back. Admitting to emotions like that is never easy. Saying the words aloud, actually meaning them. But he clearly returns them. He wouldn't hug her like this otherwise. He wouldn't let her hug him back just as fiercely.

Her head tucks under his chin and she closes her eyes. How long will these hugs last? If she doesn't find a way to keep him here, how long until the next time he leaves? These aren't the things she ought to be thinking about. She should be grateful that he's back.

But she can't stop worrying.]

You have me.

Which is why I think I have the better deal, Solano.

[He chuckles softly and that, that felt real. Warm. Natural. Bit by bit he's feeling less hollow, less locked in shock from the war and his waking and remembering. How appropriate that he feels most himself in the arms of the one he first considered an ally. Family. Something he had far to little of and oh. She had a sister.

He'd made a promise.]

I believe I owe Prim some lessons. And you a dinner.

[Prim had understood when those lessons had ended. She probably understood and accepted it better than Katniss ever could. She spent far too much time mourning what she had lost. She always had. It was too difficult to be rational when it came to losing those she loved.

But even then, it hadn't been Zevran's fault. None of this had been his fault.]

You don't owe us anything.

Allow me to correct myself: I wish to resume lessons with Prim, and I wish to cook for you a dinner. Something for your family, something small and cozy and warm. Just you and Prim and Richard and myself.

[Some braized deer, some potato pasta, root vegetables, a bottle of cider for the girls.]

Just- something for us. To remind me of what it is in this world that is worth all the blood.

[It's a really nice thought. A family dinner. Though they have them regularly - her and Richard and Prim - it's been some time since they've included anyone else. Since she's really wanted them to, too.

It could be nice. Zevran's back. She thinks that Teddy's starting to do better. Having a family, having her whole family in one room for a dinner she doesn't have to cook? It sounds like it would be one of the best experiences she's had in a long time.]

Could we invite Teddy, too? He- he's had a hard time lately.

Of course. Your family is my family- and I should take steps that they are aware of it. [Being back in the village is step one. Cooking? Step two.]

Shall I refrain from preparing anything overly complicated once more- or may I stretch my creative muscles just a little. No gold leaf, I promise. Just hearty stews, a pasta or two, perhaps roast deer?

[That gets her to smile a little bit more. Even if they're not related, it's nice to have Teddy in her life. Their guitar lessons have since turned into times for the two to sit and chat. Share life experiences, both here and back home. For her to teach him how to sing. She'd like to think, sometimes, that this is how life could have been like were she to have an older brother. Were Finnick to have survived the uprising.

But to hear it acknowledged from someone just as equally important to her makes it all the better. Makes her think that she's not living a life full of useless delusions.]

Whatever you want to make. [She smiles warmly.] Prim and I aren't picky.

Perhaps some berry tarts. I remember you both enjoying those when I baked for you last.

[The party, it feels so distant now to him. That he'd be a part of any manner of celebration that didn't involve murder at the end, that he'd be in the kitchen gladly, that he'd volunteer said services just to see someone smile. It's a strange thought that doesn't quite fit in with the past few months of his life but it had been and might yet be.

Thought thoughts of murder do remind him of one other person in the village.]

Is that trinket woman still here?

Effie?

[Katniss looks up, almost surprised that Zevran asked after her. He hadn't liked her very much, had he? Not that she blamed him. Effie Trinket was a hard woman to like. Most of the time, she couldn't stand her. She was very much the epitome of the Capitol. Of their behaviors and fashions and culture all together. They were a hard people to like.

But not all of them were bad. Cinna wasn't. Her prep team. Even Effie had her moments every now and then.]

She is. But she moved out.

Tell me- did she make much fuss about the garden you kept? I may or may not have insinuated she take care in what she ate before I vanished.

Just a little.

...you threatened her?

[Her grey eyes go wide and a hint of a smile appears on her face. It's not funny. It shouldn't be funny. But somehow, just picturing this, the look that must have been on Effie's face? She wants to laugh. How indignant and outraged Effie must have been.]

Maybe a little. It was after her announcement about making games in the village.

[She remembers that announcement. More than that, she remembers the announcement that she had made afterwards. The smile instantly vanishes from her face. She had been angry then. Hurt and full of self-loathing for having fallen for Sokka, even a little. And she thought it easiest to lash out. Not at him, not at the boy who had hurt her when lacking any sort of soul. But at herself, for being stupid enough to think she could deserve something better. That someone, someone aside from Peeta or Gale, could love her for who she was.

It's been a long time now. Months since that day. And in that time, she'd like to think she's gotten better. She's found something to live for again, in the small family living under her roof. Prim and Richard might not love her in the same way Peeta did, but they love her nonetheless.

Quietly,] I remember.

[The smile vanishes, and his hands slide out to catch hers. An anchor to the present. A better time- he knows well that he could have, and should have been there for her at the second announcement. Regrets that he never stepped forward to say anything when it came to pass. But he is here now, and she is- she seems better. Perhaps she and he might find something better to look forward to and to live with, to live for.]

I took issue with the concept- for how it would effect you and your Prim. I would like to say I'm not proud of it- but that would be lying. A woman like her should learn to live with a little fear if she's so quick to mete it out herself so carelessly.

She can't help it.

[It's the same argument she made then, even as she squeezes his hand tightly, pushing past the memories to the present day. He's here now. Back in her life again. She still has Prim, still has Richard and Teddy. Life is better now. Katniss doesn't hate herself as much as she did then.

But, at the very least, the argument still stands.]

It's what they're taught, in the Capitol. That the Games are good. They're entertainment. She was only looking for something to keep her sane.

Sixth jump - you should know, you should know that [Action/Written]

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