I am your man.

"Tell you what, I’ll go get us a round and then we can continue talking in circles" she added playfully, leaving the table to return shortly with a bottle of wine and two glasses in hand.

"So you’re from Antiva? What brings you to Ferelden?" Honestly he could’ve told her he was from Orlais and she wouldn’t have been able to tell the difference. Not many foreigners came to the circle.

He twirled her in a small circle and brought her close to his body, laughing as he did so. He couldn’t remember when he had last had this much fun that didn’t involve killing someone or exploring a new sexual act.

"Felicity. That’s my name, though you’re welcome to call me anything you like with that accent. I’ll admit your dancing seems much more heart racing than the trampling that seems to surround us." She granted

She smiled and stood, accepting his offer.

Despite the warmth that radiated from the inside of the tavern, Zevran was chilled to the bone.

Ferelden’s winters were vastly different from Antivan ones, he mused quietly as he sipped his wine. The wine here in Ferelden was not as grand as the sort available in his home country, but it served the purpose of giving him a pleasant buzz.  He was not a regular drinker, in his line of work he found that the effects of alcohol worked against an Assassin and it did nothing to enhance the pleasurable side.

The sound of people taking as well as lively tavern music filled his ears, apparently around this time of year the people of Ferelden liked to celebrate with dancing and many feasts. What they were celebrating, he didn’t quite know, but he enjoyed the feasts and the music none the less. He sipped his wine once more, watching many couples dance in time to the beat of the music. He briefly thought about seeking his own partner to dance with, but as he observed the people dancing he came to the conclusion that none of them would be able to handle his “rigorous” dancing. He kept his eye on the dancing couples but he was acutely aware that a woman had sat beside him. He laughed to himself and turned to face her, giving her the most charming smile he could muster.

Turning her attention to the elf beside her she leaned in to respond to him, afraid her words would be swallowed by the buzz of the crowd.

"I don’t like dancing. What’s the point of doing something so intimate with someone in a room full of people with all your clothes on. It’s just.. awkward. And sweaty." her nose crinkled slightly.

i’ve just been like, REALLY ILL the last week or so. Like so ill that i’ve just been sleeping all day or if i can’t sleep to watch movies/play skyrim on my ps3.

plus my computer is still broken  and my mum isn’t letting me use my laptop anymore.

so yeah

Ferelden’s winter was nothing compared to Antivan ones.

The garden of the royal palace was covered in snow, giving the illusion that there was nothing else beyond the veil of white. Zevran pulled his cloak tighter around his body, he never would get used to the damned freezing weather. He wondered through the large garden, catching brief glimpses of roses that had not yet succumbed to the snow. Her majesty was probably fuming with anger at this very moment, the garden that was often littered with roses and other kinds of beautiful flowers was the Queen’s pride and joy- to see her garden perish under the harsh weather with no prevention would no doubt bring her great annoyance.

Zevran smiled at the memory of Serena, who was now Queen of Ferelden and married to that great oaf of a man, Alistair. He laughed absently to himself, Alistair would have his hands full with his new fiery bride, let alone the duties of being king. As his mind focused on his friends marriage, his thoughts shifted to that of his own engagement. Everything he had ever been taught had told him what he was feeling was wrong- that there was no such thing as love, and that the world was a cruel mistress. But then she had come along, with her brown hair and wide, innocent eyes and somehow she had wormed her way into his heart. The sight of a hooded figure a few feet in front of him disrupted his thoughts, and he smiled mischievously when he recognized who it was.

The snow draped the top of the royal palace quite marvelously, like a warm blanket over a sleeping child. Mirima sighed gently as she secured the hood of her cloak over her head, wordlessly praising the creators that she was in the long sleeved Orlesian dress Serena had given her for her nineteenth birthday and cloak, instead of her Dalish armor that hardly held any warmth due to how impractical for winter it was. As Mirima walked through the once lively and rich castle garden where she had often come to think, mostly of her duties as Warden Commander, her upcoming journey to Amaranthine, and of course, her relationship with Zevran. It was all so peculiar to her; she had never felt anything like what she felt for him in her entire life. 

"Ah my dear, your words cut deep." He said, glancing at the rose in front of them. He bent over and picked the rose, marveling at how the petals remained so red in despite of the winter snow. He placed the rose in Mirima's small hands, curling her fingers around the stem. "I believe our beloved Queen would have our hides if she knew we were picking roses from her favorite garden." He laughed at the thought, the woman with hair as red as the rose itself had always been partial to the flowers and he recalled the time one of the squire boys had attempted to pick a rose from the garden for his sweetheart- needless to say the Queen was not impressed, though she admired his gesture.

★I’d Dominate you

☆I’d Submitt for you

♣  3-Some

♤ 4-Some 

∞ More-some

▲ Handjob

▼ Blowjob

♒ Swallow

ψ Bukkake

 ☼ In public

 ✪ Put on a Show  (exhibitionism)

 ○ Be my Slave

 ◎ Be my Master

☾ Dress up

♪ Talk Dirty

☺Make a baby