"I- I'm not... sure about this, Zevran..."

The timid hesitation was not at all unexpected, from what Zevran had seen of their leader so far. Caylunne had always come across as rather easy to embarrass when the subject of sex was brought up and the recent revelation of certain events in his past only helped to further explain his fears.

Taking a small step forward, hovering at the edge of Caylunne's personal space, but not quite invading it, Zevran put on his most reassuring smile and caught the younger elf's gaze. Caylunne wavered for a moment before relaxing and holding the eye contact almost steadily. Zevran took it to mean that his advances were welcome, at least so far, and took another step forward, bringing himself well and truly into Caylunne's comfort zone. Almost immediately the younger elf tensed up again and Zevran shifted his weight onto his back foot, holding his hands up reassuringly.

"Fear not, my Grey Warden. I will not do any more than you are comfortable with," he murmured, his tone gentle and palliative. "I do think this would be good for you, but I will not push you into something you do not want."

Caylunne fidgeted and glanced around the campsite. The others around them seemed to be absorbed in their own business – Alistair was toasting bread over the fire; Leliana was practising with her harp; Wynne had dragged Dog off to try and bathe him again; Morrigan was alone in her own little campsite, minding her own business as usual; Ohgren was passed out on the grass, and Sten was roaming the perimeter of the camp, watching for Darkspawn.

No one, it seemed, was going to offer him any help.

A feather light touch to his fingers made him jump and his gaze whipped back to Zevran, and then down to his hand. Zevran was running the pad of his thumb across his fingers softly, a gesture clearly intended to calm him. Instead it just made him wonder how badly he would react to outright sexual contact, if simply having his hand touched had sent his heart into his throat.

"Come to my tent," Zevran said after a pause, "We will take things slowly, and if at any time you feel it is too much for you, we can stop." His thumb stopped stroking and instead he curled his fingers around Caylunne's in a loose grip that could easily be broken if he so wished. "You have my word."

A single, nervous laugh escaped Caylunne and he fixed Zevran with a wry look that didn't do much to cover up the uncertainty and fear in his eyes. "Your word? That's charming, but I can't help wondering just how much the word of a self proclaimed backstabbing, womanising assassin is worth."

Zevran tilted his head slightly and gave Caylunne's hand a gentle squeeze. "Do you really think I would force myself on you?"

Staring at Zevran for a long moment, Caylunne thought the answer over in his head thoroughly. On the one hand, he didn't think he should trust Zevran as far as he could throw him. A man who apparently had no qualms about killing others for money did not seem to be overly concerned with morals. On the other hand, however, Zevran had never struck him as the sort to do such a thing. Even before he had found out about that one incident in Caylunne's past, he had been flirtatious, but tentatively so – testing the waters constantly and never once plunging in.

"No," he finally said, looking down at the ground between them. "I don't."

Zevran's grip and Caylunne's hand tightened a little more, and he took a small step backward, in the direction of his tent. He didn't say anything else, just gave Caylunne a questioning look. Still Caylunne hesitated, uncertainty and fear pooling low in his belly, but somewhere, somewhere in the back of his mind he wanted to trust Zevran. Perhaps it was because of the deal they had made, or perhaps it was because Zevran was the only one there who was kin to him.

And yet, as he finally stepped forward and allowed Zevran to lead him to the tent, he doubted it was either of those things at all. Instead, he thought, he just wanted someone he could trust unwaveringly and as unlikely and unsuitable as Zevran was for that position, it was the Antivan assassin that Caylunne found himself putting more and more trust in everyday.

So, someone, or possibly two someone's has expressed an interest in a Zevran/Caylunne/Alistair love triangle. While I did intend to focus solely on Zev, I'm not at all opposed to the idea of a love triangle, so tomorrow, I'll post a poll on my user page and let y'all decide for yourselves.

Also, the next instalment of this (yes, the smutty one) will not be posted to this story. I don't want to suddenly boost the rating on this, so instead I'm going to post it as a separate one shot. If you don't have me on your watch list then I suggest you come check my stories around about Christmas day-ish. I should be posting it then.