Doves And Crows
.:Beginning of Prelude:.
They were complete opposites. Nothing else in the world held greater contrast. They were both of the same kind, but one was a chaste child of nature, while the other was a filthy tyke, who was born and raised within a city built around sin. They had a way with words, and were familiar with the ways of the dagger.
Neither thought they would hold any feelings for the other, at least not any warmth or fondness, not like love.
She was the sun, bright and radiant. Every part of her was teeming with justice and grace. There are so many words one could describe her with. She held a poise personality, sharp and focused. Her eyes were so serious, precise and luminous. She always sported a particular look within her eye, as if she was always gazing out into the distance. Her flaw was her frailty…
He was the moon, glowing within the dark of the night in the absence of the sun. He was thought to be as cold-blooded as any snake, and just as agile. The man wasn't always careful, but he always had luck on his side. He was gifted with his appearance, and because of his striking features, he won the hearts of many women, and even men. He teased others, in attempt to get a rise out of anything easily provoked.
He very much enjoyed provoking the leader of their little pack, but he never expected to gain any pleasures out of her…
Elle, the new name she went by, did not know what to think of these things Zevran spoke of. She was always quiet and reserved in the ways of love. The Dalish elf was not sure what to believe, but she did not state this to anyone. At least, she hasn't repeated the words to anyone.
He discovered that, though. He found out by prying her open and ripping apart her little secret… Zevran was clever with his choice of words that night.
He didn't take advantage of her weakness then, though. Not that night. He was very cunning with it the second time around. She was in her disposition twice around Zevran, and alone, too. He wasn't always the type who does this to a girl, but he wasn't one to miss a special opportunity.
Elle was more than beautiful, so much more than alluring. He would be mad not to at least try and coax her, but she… She's never been that far before.
What was a girl to do?
Like a fool she was drawn into the darkness of Zevran's night, seduced by talk of fantasies that could never truly exist. He whispered sweet-nothings into her ear, persuading her to bed with him by saying, "Life is too short. We must take pleasures where we can." Willingly she turned her back, but no stab in the back was needed. Zevran's dagger was already buried within her heart. That is what happened.
The next morning she realized they both had over slept. Those she traveled with were awake, and they knew what happened before she stepped out of Zevran's tent.
The humiliation from that moment was something she had to walk with. She didn't even get a chance to ask what he intended to do now that she had given herself to him. It wasn't as though it could have been freely talked about while they journeyed through Ferelden. It had to wait until they settled down to camp again.
After a very long day, they did settle for camp, and words could not express how much tension her body held. She had averted her eyes from everyone since that morning. It was difficult to walk up to Zevran that night, but she had to find out what this all meant.
She realized just what was to become of her shortly thereafter, and it tore her heart out.
Zevran's attitude towards love did not change. He was careful with his words, he states exactly how he felt and he told her exactly what they could do. The options presented to her were all so… unsatisfying. Unsatisfying is putting it lightly.
She felt foolish, and she felt ashamed, but she made herself believe it was all right. Having a lover that didn't truly love was better than being alone. She put herself in his hands, for a short time.
Rush of blood, and some pain; there was no pleasure in her first time, but Zevran told her that it would get better. She didn't do that with him, or anyone afterwards, which was troubling for the male elf. This love he once spoke of didn't feel all that amazing, in any form given to her. She was unhappy, and that's how she knew she made a mistake.
Days later, she brought her blade into the Archdemon. And that, she believed, was the end of her mission.
Although they celebrated the victory of ending the Blight, Elle didn't feel like joining in. She asked for no boon. When asked by the new King if she would be staying in Denerim, she stated that she explained that she wasn't sure. When told that there was a crowd out side, waiting for her appearance, she miraculously escaped the showing and left through a separate exit, leaving everyone and everything behind without a word or even a clue…
All of Ferelden was in an uproar. Their savior had vanished, so it seemed. Elle, the Dalish elf, was gone. Quite possibly gone forever.
Elle had been gone for nearly a week now. Wrapped around in her selfishness and guilt. Her disappearance caused some trouble to her friends, but all affairs within Ferelden were no longer her problem. Amazingly enough, her feet took her to The Wilds. It was the one place where she knew she wouldn't be found. Though it was dangerous, she was confident in her abilities. All hostile encounters made against her failed, leaving her the victor every time. She escaped so deep within The Wilds that she became lost…
But above all, Elle was alone.
.:End of Prelude:.
I've been working very hard on this particular idea that I've had. This time, I have my story line set before me. I can only hope you like what I present… If I have any mistakes, please inform me via message. R&R!