Once Upon a Time: Zevran

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NOTE: This is a fairy tale. The narrator is trying to make it friendly for kids, but messes up occasionally.

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Once upon a time, there was a poor little orphan elf boy. His father kicked it early, and the boy's mother took him to the safety of a broth- a whor- a place for women with no other choice and made sure that he would be taken care of before she shuffled off the mortal coil. At a young age he was bought for the paltry sum of three sovereigns. Actually, considering the price of gold, that ain't a bad de-*slapping sound*

Right, sorry, where was I?

The poor orphan boy was trained in the art of being not-nice to lots of people, and became very good at doing many not-nice things to those he was told to be not-nice to. However, in the broth- whor- place where he grew up, he had started his apprenticeship in the art of being very-nice and extremely-pleasant-to-be-around, and his training after he was bought only increased his prowess in that regard.

One day, the poor orphan elf boy went on a trip with two friends, except one of them was a pretty and kind elf maide- well, woman, anyway, and the other was a mean, deceitful son of a bi- er, man. The mean, deceitful son of a bi- er, MAN told the poor orphan elf boy that the pretty and kind elf virg- *sigh* woman was going to run and tattle about their trip to the wrong people, and the poor orphan elf boy believed the mean, deceitful son of a bi- aargh!evil-bad-guy. Together they did some very not-nice things to the pretty and kind elf girl (whew) and she ended up not being able to complete the trip with them.

When the poor orphan elf boy found out that the mean, deceitful evil-bad-guy had lied, that the pretty and kind elf lass was, in fact, just as she appeared to be, he got very sad and decided that he wanted to leave the mean, deceitful evil-bad-guy and the other black feathered corbies and rejoin the pretty and kind elf wenc-er, miss.

The poor orphan elf boy heard tell of a great warrior that some not-nice General wanted dead, and he thought that perhaps this great warrior could help him rejoin the pretty and kind elf damsel, so he approached the great warrior for help. After an initial misunderstanding, the poor orphan elf boy decided to join with the great warrior, who turned out to be smokin' hot mam- er, deadly sex- um, beautiful Warden.

As they continued on their journey, the poor orphan elf boy and the beautiful Warden grew quite close together. Time passed as they traveled across the face of Thedas, seeing such romantic sites as the moon shining over Lake Caledhan, the sun setting over the Korcari Wilds, the dark ichor of a spider lair in the Ortan Thaig, the gloomy emptiness of Brecilian Ruins, the heady scent of rotting bodies at Ostagar, and the inert ashes of a dead woman in a cavern guarded by a dead dude.

With these wondrous incentives to encourage smexytimes, is it any wonder that eventually, the passion between the poor orphan elf boy and the beautiful Warden waxed into a fire that could not be suppressed or expressed with mere words? That the seemingly innocent offer of a simple massage quickly progressed into a smooth caress of very-nice feelings? That the lithe, supple body of the poor orphan elf boy, magnificently lacking all clothing, became entwined multitudinous times with the soft yet muscular eagerness that was the beautiful Warden? That his clever, agile tongue explored every inch, every curve, every crevice of the quivering figure that lay below him and, at times, above him? That her hands traced a path that delineated every graceful tattoo on the poor orphan elf boy's body, especially the one that started in the middle of his chest and went down to his-

*slapping sound*

Er, right. *fans self*

Anyway, eventually the poor orphan elf boy realized that his feelings towards the beautiful Warden had gone beyond the simple phase of hair-pulling to get her attention (yes, on her head, pay attention!) and had progressed into an area that he had only ventured before with the pretty and kind elf maide- virg- lass. Unsure of how to tell the beautiful Warden what he was feeling, the poor orphan elf boy started spouting atrocious poetry and avoiding certain topics altogether.

Eventually, the mean, deceitful son of a bi- um, putz showed up and tried to do several not-nice things to the beautiful Warden. The poor orphan elf boy stood by his beautiful Warden, and together they showed the mean, deceitful son of a bi- ugh, diddlysquat how not-nice things should be done. Of course, they also had to do a lot of not-nice things to all the stupid assh- er, dolts who had tagged along for the giggles, but that's okay because they were probably all jerks anyway.

At that moment, the poor orphan elf boy realized that his feelings for the beautiful Warden had progressed beyond a dance between the sheets to a dance between their hearts, and he realized that he would probably never be able to put what he felt into words that adequately expressed the depth of his epiphany. So, when the poor orphan elf boy first tried to give his most precious possession - the very first object that he, himself, had earned without any help from anyone - he couldn't open his soul and tell her why, and the beautiful Warden refused. Saddened, the poor orphan elf boy retreated into himself, not even allowing them the ardor of naked bodies intertwined in divine, glorious, mind-blowing-

*slap* Heeeey!

Eventually, the beautiful Warden approached him and told him he was being a silly poo and that if the poor orphan elf boy really wanted her to take the ring, then it had better damn well mean what she thought it should mean.

So the poor orphan elf boy gave her the ring, and that night all the stalwart companions of the beautiful Warden enjoyed a fine night of uninterrupted stargazing and an education in the art of how to be very-nice and very-loud while being treated very-nice.

The End