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

[antivanleather]

[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.]

Comments

[z_jay]

[Certainly things were a little different now than they had been before. Moving on was a painful process, anyone who had lost someone could understand. But to have them come back, it was... jarring. But it didn't necessitate exclusion, and Eugene rolled his eyes, grinning at Zevran. He was taking this a little too seriously, too soon. If there was something amiss, Eugene would wait for Zevran to be a little more settled into Luceti, more calm and at ease.

It was rude to bombard the battle-weary. He knew from a different kind of experience how it eroded at your mind]

Zev, you haven't been kicked out, you're fine! If you didn't come home I'm sure Jack would be worried about you. Just come home.

[antivanleather]

[Distance. It is to be expected considering how long it has been. He should not be so surprised and perhaps he isn't. Every wounded thought, every glimmer of anything less than the pretty fool Eugene had met when he'd first dropped down from the tree is pulled in and locked up tight and away. There is no place for Zevran the elf here. Just the fool. There's a half moment where he drums his fingers on the counter top just to provide himself a moment to breathe, but that is all.

The question had been evaded entirely. That, for him, is answer enough.]

I shall. When is it your shift ends? I shall walk you home.

[z_jay]

Good!

[There's a brief instance where he's unsure, not necessarily because of Zevran's answer, but something else entirely he's not quite sure how to approach. Something's off balance, and he's not certain he can make it right.]

Not too much longer. Let me check with Tasha and see if I can, I'm sure she won't mind.

[ It would also give him a second to gather himself, to see how this would go. Something wasn't just off-balance, something was damaged, and he was the reason for it. He slipped away from the counter, leaving Zevran to himself for a moment or two, just in case he needed some space.]

[antivanleather]

[He takes the moment offered to enjoy his coffee. Use that bittersweet warmth to bolster him. Fill in the sore holes. This stings more than he feels it ought considering the fragments he can recall. There's something deeper here he cannot place- and honestly? Does not care to.

It hurts.

He would rather not spend too much time picking at sores. He won't ever mend if he does that. He waits until Eugene returns, coffee finished, manner mild and distantly pleasant.]

[z_jay]

[For its mildness, it's more unnerving. And that he's not the one to bring solace to Zevran, but instead the opposite wears on him. His apron's gone, now, just a t-shirt with jeans and two whole legs he still couldn't take for granted. Briefly he wanted to tell Zevran he could go and do as he wished instead of escorting him home, but he'd offered.

His smile didn't reach his eyes and he knew it, but maybe he was jumping to conclusions. They'd get home, realize that they were both being dumb, and life would carry on with a brief hiccup behind them. But as he walked alongside Zevran it didn't resurface, the same feeling he'd had before, and it was distressing.]

So, what happened? You look a little rough round the edges, like you could use a nice, long vacation.

[antivanleather]

I fought a war.

[That grand quest he had spoken so much about before, the battle for the fate of the world. It wears upon a man when the fighting never stops and the dead continue to pile up. One day. The siege and battle of Denerim only took one day.

For a moment that blandness flattens out into something hollow and almost cold before the next step has him back to mild and pleasant. A wry quirk of a smile, no harm, no foul.]

We saved the world, just as we set out to do.

[z_jay]

[Unbidden, he felt a surge of pride for Zev, to have fought and won for something so important. This smile did reach his eyes, having missed the brief lapse in Zevran's carefully maintained mask]

Congratulations! Wow... I know that's really quite the accomplishment, but I don't know how to even say that enough...

[But at what cost? First and foremost, even if he didn't have that same reciprocal spark he'd had for Zevran prior, it didn't mean he didn't care. He reached over, place a hand on Zev's shoulder. A gesture of solidarity as he gave a soft squeeze]

Sounds like a hot bath and dinner are in order for you tonight, then. And rest.

[antivanleather]

I simply fought. The Warden led. She led all of us. Made a king out of bumbling templar bastard. Not the call I might have made but- Ferelden has had worse rulers. He is a good man. Young, optimistic but...a good man. He will do well.

[Perhaps he should have remained in Denerim. Lived in to protect Alistair, defend the fledgling king. It might have been better for him to have a pet noble and the pet noble to have a crow in the pocket. Especially with how his reign will doubtless be contested.

He's jarred from his thoughts by the hand on his shoulder- locking up and flinching away habitually. He doesn't lash out, but it is a near thing.

it's just Eugene.

Just one part of the fragile web of his heart. No one important at all. Right.]

It'd be much appreciated.

[z_jay]

[His hand snatched away, briefly forgetting Zevran's skills and how touch might cause concern... and it left him feeling somewhat like he deserved that. Touching was now out of bounds, and he stopped where he was, looking at his hand. Appreciation was better than disregard, but he felt less than a friend in this moment, a stranger, politely distanced. That hurt, but what had he expected?]

...Yeah. It's the least I can do.

[Taking in a breath through his nose, he steeled himself with a pleasant smile and started forward again. No sense in wallowing or giving Zevran false hopes. That, he concluded, would be cruel. This was a mess that was his fault, he needed to own up to it.]

Bath, dinner, sleep. In that order, c'mon, now.

[Because while they needed to speak, they needed also to be in their best frame of mind.]

[antivanleather]

Eugene- I...

[He reaches out to apologize- hand hovering in the air between them for a moment before dropping it. They aren't- perhaps they never were despite everything he'd thought to be contrary. He had imagined that affection, that warmth. Of course he had.

Assassins do not get to deal in love. Crows do not get to have happy homes where they are wed.

Masterless Crows least of all.

face set and shoulders steeled he follows Eugene into his home. Not theirs. Eugene's. It hasn't been his home for months.

He is not welcome here.]

Perhaps just dinner. I would not wish to take up more of your time than you would give freely.

[z_jay]

Look.

[There's something weary in his voice, because no matter what, he's the root cause of all this hurt that's manifested in Zev. And it isn't as though he wants to be, but lying about it wouldn't sit well, either. Soft, but firm, that's how he reasoned this would go best. Not only would this cause Zevran distress, but Jack as well. Being at odds with the both of them... would be...]

I really don't want you to leave. I'm giving this freely, I've missed you-- There's some things that you and I need to discuss, yes, but don't make Jack worry.

[He stopped at the door, looking Zev in the eye if Zev would let him. This wasn't just a rift between himself and Zevran, he'd have to answer to Jack, too. And that was also complicated.]

It's my fault. My mess. Because when people--

[Speaking further would only lead to deeper discussion, and he was trying to avoid it for the moment, so he stopped short and switched gears]

He wouldn't want you gone, and frankly, neither do I. But let's not fight over this now. We'll talk about this later, but I need you here to do that.

[antivanleather]

Because keeping secrets from Jack or discussing things without his input never goes wrong.

[He's too tired for it to be cutting. Too dry to be amused, too low to be confident. He is the barest shell of what he once was- and if who he had been isn't enough for Eugene, however would he be any better now that he's hollowed out and full of little more than the blood of the fallen?]

This isn't a fight, Gene. I am sick to death of fighting. I have none left in me. This is a quesgion, one question, that you need to answer honestly before we do anything else. No evading, no lying for whatever reason, no waving it off for later. I would rather have this said and said truthfully now.

[And Maker above he's going to ask it before he takes one more step forward. Nevermind that anyone could hear or see. Nevermind that he's cut out the battered, fragile thing that Eugene first put back into working order in the first place during his last stay here. Nevermind that he's holding it up and braced for it to be shattered.

he's never been a terribly smart elf, after all.]

Do you love me?

[z_jay]

[Leave it to Zevran to cut to the matter, force the issue even to the point of injuring himself. There was a tension in his shoulders but he forced that down as he maintained eye contact with him. He knew the answer, and this was too public, but backing down now would be worse.]

No. No, I don't.

[But would Zevran be happy with someone forced to? He would argue his case, but right now he felt his heart pounding hard-- not fear in as much as it was just adrenaline. This was intensely uncomfortable for all involved, no doubt]

But even you know there's more kinds of love than romantic.

[antivanleather]

[He really, truly should learn better than to tread where other men have laid claim. It never ends well. Bad enough when all it is to taste and envy is skin and sighs and tangled limbs. Worst is the joy he thought he'd had, that affection he'd imagined, that sense of home he had dreamed was false.

Is false.

Had likely ever been false.

His expression does not so much as shift as it does settle. He had expected this on some level. Likely it is the same for Jack.]

Did you love me then?

Rewind Remix Retry Re-Re-Re-Reply

[antivanleather]

Tasha runs this fine establishment? I remember her speaking about wanting to do so when I was here last. It is good to know she was able to see it come to pass.

[The village has changed, and so has he. He only hopes that it isn't so different in either direction to leave everything unsettled. Misaligned. But Eugene had ever been able to help him find his center again. While he does not remember everything in detail- he must trust that he can do so once more.

He must have faith in the man he chose to care for, now isn't that a terrifying thought? He finishes half of his coffee by the time Eugene returns and the smile he offers is a wan one Tired. So very tired.]

You look well.

Re: Rewind Remix Retry Re-Re-Re-Reply

[z_jay]

You'd look well too if you had me show up unexpectedly after a long time.

[He grinned, untying and stowing his apron away before stepping out from behind the counter. Despite the initial disappointment at being forgotten, he was at least remembered. It had to stand for something. Still, the sting hung around but he shoved it aside for the moment]

Have you seen Jack, yet?

let's do dis

[antivanleather]

[Bits and peices. The moment when he takes the apron of rattles something loose- suddenly he's assaulted with the scent of salt and cheese and gravy-]

...poutine?

[Why does that word mean something to him? It tastes of potato and mushroom and curds. Nevermind. He falls into step with Eugene, shaking his head.]

I do not recall much of my stay here- not readily. It is all distant- pieces come to me. Such as your name, the- you made me poutine. Fried potatoes and cheese curds and gravy. Jack got salt all down the front of his shirt.

[z_jay]

[The memory felt like it happened ages ago when it was in fact... nearly a year, if not just a bit less. Hearing Zevran say poutine in his softly accented way made him smile, that despite the somewhat... different feeling he had for Zev, that it wasn't entirely offset]

So the first thing you remember about me is food. I'm flattered.

[The sunlight had him squint a little, until his eyes adjusted, and he settled his hands in his pockets]

Well, you remember Jack, too. That's-- really good. I wasn't sure if you were the same Zev that we...

[antivanleather]

The first thing I remembered of you was the feel of your jaw against my shoulder as I slept. I just couldn't place the face and name to the sensation.

[Fragments. Bit by bit he gains his life here back. Reconciles it with his life in Thedas.]

I remember your joy for food. How passionate you are about it.

[The same Zevran that they...oh.

He is missing something, isn't he?]

Do you still have my earring? The one you put in me?

[z_jay]

[Even if it was just the same, something was so different about hearing that from someone who wasn't Jack. It briefly made his stomach twist and he faltered a little, just on his face. It's nothing serious, but perhaps later, once they're settled it can be sorted]

It... kind of was my livelihood before, except I was doing the eating. And there's Jack, please try to remember him before we get home.

[The earring-- he nodded and absently reached up to rub the earring he had as well, still present as he hadn't the heart to remove it even when Zev had been removed...]

Yup, along with your things. What, did you think we'd just throw out some useful equipment for anyone to pick through?

[He says useful, because sentiment for Zev, was a bit of a curse]

[antivanleather]

Moca Mio. and Argento Mio.

[More shards flit into place and he dares. Weary and hollow as he is he dares to look over, to curl his fingers in Eugene's. He's uncertain of his welcome but more than willing to try. If it's permitted he tugs that hand up to his mouth, brushing his lips against the back of it.]

Ma'arlath, ma'nen, ma'vhenan, ma'arla.

[He remembered that night. The earrings. The promise.]

Of course I remember Jack. He kicks off the pillows, bites my shoulder, hangs upon you like a limpet and- loves you. With everything in him. It is a wonder to see.

[z_jay]

[Hand held, Eugene slowed his walking somewhat, his gait even now... thanks to Jack and Tasha-- and some of Bucky to keep Eugene working on regaining 100% of both his legs. But he wasn't as acutely aware of that now as he was of the dagger-callused hand twining fingers with his own.

He wanted to believe this was true, but things tended to be too good to be. He stopped altogether when Zevran brushed his lips over the back-- breath held.]

Yep, I'm moca. But people do commonly call me Gene or Eugene if you want to as well...

[Something still lingered, unsure and quiet, but not overwhelming.]

Have you contacted him at all?

[antivanleather]

Eugene I may have forgotten this place save for stretches and shards, and I may not have remembered you entirely just yet- but I do remember you. I am sorry that I have forgotten...and sorry that I was away for so long. Treating me as you once did, asking that of you- is unkind and I do not expect it...but you need not look upon me as you would a stranger.

[Were there anything he could do to take that time back- he would. But such things are not in his power.]

I did not remember him or you entirely until I saw you and the ring you wear. I woke- I woke. I dressed. I wrote a message when I remembered the village and ordered coffee- which is when I saw and remembered you.

[z_jay]

[For now, this was better than a completely blank look from Zevran. It put his mind at ease, somehow. Not all had been lost, but he did wonder, where all this would lead? His smile reached his eyes this time, looking appropriately sheepish]

I suppose we should fix that quickly, then. But-- seriously, Zev. You look like you've seen better days. Come home and have a shower. We'll figure out the rest later.

[He gave Zevran's hand a squeeze, at that, something meant to reassure, and also give him the leverage to tug him to follow. It still hadn't hit him, that Zevran was in fact, returned to them, whole-- and maybe not as sound as before, but that was something they could work with]

[antivanleather]

I have fought a war. It was...wearying. But we were victorious. Thedas is safe. We won.

[And having someone, something to come back to- that makes it easier to cope with. Makes it simpler and neater than having a long stretch of absolutely nothing on hand for the future.]

...I would appreciate that a great deal. The day is cold and the morning has been a long one. Perhaps I might make us some drinking chocolate? With brandy.