#rekver

The tavern was loud- far louder than such a small space should have been, but the sheer number of people crammed into the building was impressive. Considering it was the only tavern for the small town, you couldn’t be that shocked.

You held your cup tightly- some slightly misshapen metal, dented more than once- but that didn’t matter. What mattered was the strong wine in it, and that it was dulling the aches in your muscles, your joints. Your second cup already in far too short a time.

You didn’t care.

After the adventure you had had, you were just happy to have a roof over your head, a decent drink in hand. And, gods below, a bed in your future.

You glanced along the crowd, searching for your partner in all of this chaos. You could just make out the drow’s head, ginger hair streaked with fine gray, walking away from the bar, cups in hand.

Not once in your life would you have expected partnering with a drow- but gods, life was something spectacular and shocking, wasn’t it? Revker had disproven every rumor you’d heard about drow through out your life. He’d been the first you’d met- you’d never had much cause to leave your small city, which had never even hosted a drow traveler, too far from any tunnels to the Underdark was it.

Revker shouldered up next to you- not an overly tall man, but sturdy. Despite age, he lacked the dainty grace you had expected drow to have- he was lined in hard muscle, well earned over a life that extended beyond four centuries.

You couldn’t even imagine a life that long.

He held out a cup to you, a tankard clutched tightly in his other. You laughed, lifting up your current cup, letting the wine inside slosh around. “I haven’t finished this one.”

He grinned- a smile blinding, pulling at the lines along his mouth, causing the crinkles around his eyes to deepen. Age looked good on him. “Drink faster, little rabbit.”

You swallowed, feeling a curling heat in your belly over the little pet name. The first time he’d called you that, you were barely conscious, your blood staining his lap, his hands, as he nursed you back to the world of the living- kept you there. He’d sounded panicked.

It was the first time you’d notice him panic, too.

You lifted your cup, chugging the remainder of the wine. It made your head feel light, when you pulled it away, sucking in a breath. Revker only chuckled at you, this deep rumble from his chest that only made your entire body feel fuzzy.

You set your empty cup down on a small tablet next to you, and Rekver handed you the new cup- full to nearly the brim. “Careful, or I’d think you’re trying to get me drunk.”

He took a long pull from his own tankard- beer, strong as the tavern could brew it. He’d told you when he first ordered your drinks that wine made him sappy, and he didn’t want that tonight. “You’re alive, you’ll be sleeping in a real bed tonight- what isn’t there to drink to?”

You couldn’t argue, you only took a sip. The wine was good at least, and really, you didn’t mind the buzz. It would help you relax later. You planned to sleep as if you were dead. Gods, you hadn’t been in a real bed in so long.

You turned your thoughts back from a bed to your partner- but Rekver was looking past you know, the smile that had decorated his face having fallen away. His eyes were slightly narrowed, as if he was concentrating- the right a classic drow red, the left utterly black, even what had once been white. He’d never told you the story behind that- and you hadn’t pried. Yet. You’d told yourself on your adventures another night, over and over again. But how many nights were there left, really? You were alive, villains slain, and what more would the two of you need of each other-

Your thoughts broke off, sharp and jagged, when you heard Rekver setting his tankard rather roughly on the table. The hand that had gripped it so tightly was suddenly at your jaw, thumb pressing along the bone and his palm pressed to the side of your neck, fingers curling back into your hair.

You froze, like a little, defenseless rabbit, caught sight of a fire in his red eye- and then his mouth was on yours. For a single moment you didn’t move, didn’t breath, couldn’t fathom what was happening, what this meant, what you wanted-

Except you’d known for so long what you wanted.

You arched slightly towards him, reaching up to grasp his arm, felt solid fucking muscle under your curling fingers as you pressed your mouth eagerly back to his. Your other hand moved between you, gripped at the well worn material of his shirt, twisted it in your fist, as he tilted your head, got a better angle. Your mouth was pliant for him, ready to be whatever he wanted of it, of you- but when you didn’t feel his tongue take advantage, you tugged at his shirt, nearly forced him to stumble closer, your own tongue flicking at his lips.

If you could form a thought, you’d think he almost seemed surprised by the little noise he made. But his mouth opened and he took your less than subtle hint, his tongue tracing your lips. You let him in, let him taste the wine that stained your mouth- got the pale taste of beer, from his own.

His fingers tightened, against your neck, and when he pulled from your mouth you thought he’d press to the crook of your neck, drag his teeth along your skin, growl out your name and have you melting into the curl of his arm.

But after a moment and nothing, you opened your eyes. Rekver was looking past you, jaw set in a firm line. Watching. You turned your head, just enough to notice someone leaving the tavern- and the moment the door shut, Rekver relaxed visibly.

“He’s gone.” He pulled his hand from your neck, only to ruffle your hair as if you were a child. “Sorry little rabbit, shouldn’t have sprung that on you.”

Sorry? You simply stared in confusion, thinking there was no way the wine had hit you this hard yet. The older drow didn’t seem to register your confusion.

“I’ve seen enough in all my years to recognize someone in the skin trade. He had his eyes on you- good job playing along.”

You swallowed. “Right.” You paused. “Playing along.”

Rekver reached for your wine- which you didn’t even remember setting down, but you must have or it would be spilled all over the floor and him- and handed it to you. “Not that you couldn’t have flayed him with your eyes closed- I know what you’re capable of. But I’d hate to risk sleeping under a roof because we had to get our hands bloody.”

Rekver picked up his tankard, held it up in a mock toast to you.

“Hopefully a little kiss of necessity hasn’t soured the evening.”