hmmm yeah this is a dragon age fic but its cute and i dont care so im posting it here. also, the little aesthetic board/face claim up above is for kala, in case anyone was interested in knowing what she looked like
Kala stayed in touch with Esmeray no matter where they went. They still go back to Ferelden to visit often– the King and his Queen Consort, the Hero of Ferelden, were always happy to have them stay– but Kala and Zevran were made for travel. He had promised to show Kala all the things she had never seen, and to be beside her the whole time, and he had so far lived up to that promise. Orlais, Rivain, Antiva- wherever she had wanted to go, they found their way there together. Rewarded and revered as they were for their part in the defeat of the Archdemon and the Blight, they went comfortably, adventuring wherever they went. And so, letters were her only options to keep in touch, make sure everything was okay. She told Zevran often how lucky she was to have him– who else would have been patient enough to teach her to read and write?
The letters always came early in the morning, drawing her from the bed and keeping her at the desk while her love slept. Some days she would join him again in bed before he woke up, but most times he would wake by himself while she scratched away at a reply across the room. Today was one of those days.
When Zevran woke up, and the bed next to him was cold, he figured she must be at the desk- when he sat up and saw her, half naked and back turned to him, one hand on the wood of the desk, he almost laughed at the predictability of it. Esmeray used to tease her for always being so spontaneous and hard to follow, but he knew her better than that. She had small routines, most of them things you might miss if you weren't paying attention.
No matter how many clothes Kala bought or made, it was always a toss-up whether or not she was actually wearing them at any given point. Not that he minded, of course; there would never be any complaints from him. Today, she had a pair of blue silk shorts on that she had made, sitting low on her hips– inches under the dimples on her back, evenly spaced on either side of her spine. Long, bronze legs stretched on forever past the ends of the silk– she had freckles even there, but they were few, and light enough that they could be missed at a glance. Zevran was sure, though, that he had memorized every mark, scar, or freckle on her body– kissed every inch of her skin.
He slipped away from the bed, a bit begrudgingly, but he had followed her to much worse places– across the bedroom wouldn't be the death of him.
He may move quietly, as an assassin should, but she still wasn't surprised when she felt his hands on her hips, then her stomach, and then his chest on her back. He could see Esmeray's neat handwriting on the paper in her hand, looking at it briefly over her shoulder, before planting a cluster of lazy kisses on the back of her freckled shoulder.
Kala breathed a laugh as he touched her. "Good morning," she spoke, voice soft, as it was only for him. "Esmeray says hi as well."
Zevran hummed against her skin in response, closing his eyes again and resting his head against her shoulder. He kept his arms securely around her bare waist, breathing in the scent of her skin– she smelled of roses and wine, still, after the bath they had taken last night. Under that was the scent of her, plain and warm and familiar.
He heard the flutter of paper as she set it down on the desk. One of his hands stayed pressed against her stomach, fingers splayed out against her warm skin, while his other travelled up– sliding up her ribcage slowly. "The sun is only just coming up, amor," he breathed against her skin. "Surely you can save your correspondence for later in the day."
Kala hummed, giggling, like honey and sunshine. "Trying to get me back into bed?" She teased, and he kissed her shoulder again– then up, to her neck, the start of her jaw, around the curve of her ear where his lips brushed against the gold of an earring, and then to the tip of it. She shivered.
"Always," he hummed, eyes opening enough to see the way her cheeks darkened.
Kala laughed again, tilting her head down a bit. She shook her head, before letting go of the letter completely and turning around in his arms. He let her move, and his hands found their places on the small of her back, rough fingers moving across soft skin. She tossed her hair over her shoulder, letting all the messy curls tumble down her back, hanging over his hands.
Her arms draped over his shoulders, a smile on her face that made him truly believe in the Maker.
"You've always been very convincing," she teased, leaning close enough that their noses nearly bumped. "Such a smooth-talker you are. How could I resist?"
"You couldn't, I hope," he grinned back at her, and leaned forward enough to bump their noses together, a gesture that made Kala giggle again. Her arms were still across his shoulders when she reached a hand up, threading her fingers through golden hair.
"I'm powerless against your cunning," she purred.
His hands drifted from her back, sliding down across the silk of her shorts to the backs of her thighs, and he lifted her. Kala didn't protest, and instead wrapped her legs around his hips- her chest against his as he held her close. "You are far from powerless, mi amor."
He moved them back to the bed, her legs locking around him as she planted short, soft kisses on his mouth.
She let go of him as she dropped to the bed, and he hovered over her– his legs between hers, her heels against his back, his hands resting against the bed on either side of her head.
Looking down at her like that, hair fanned out across the sheets, grinning, all freckles and bare skin and pure magic, he felt as if it were all a dream. Too perfect– a dream he sometimes didn't think he deserved. One he never wanted to wake from. Back during the Blight, he worried about her constantly, sure that it would kill him if she had been a casualty of the war. Now, he knew with absolute certainty that he couldn't live without her– nor would he want to.
"Marry me," he breathed, words coming out before he could stop himself.
Kala did not move– her legs stayed locked around his waist, her hands stayed resting atop her curls, halfway between his own hands and her head. He couldn't read her face.
"What?" She whispered, so ghostlike he almost thought she had said nothing at all.
"Marry me," he repeated, leaning down closer to her. "We can travel back to Ferelden," he told her, "have your Queen celebrate beside you. Anything you wish for, amor." He took a breath. "Be mine, as I am yours."
He had more to say– he could have continued for the rest of time if she had asked him to– but it was hard to go on once she had reached for him, hands curling around the back of his neck, pulling him down to her. Kala kissed him, warm and fierce and nearly bruising, and used the leverage she had gained to roll them over.
Her fingers pushed through his hair, kissing away whatever he had been thinking and practically stealing away his breath. His hands found her hips, holding onto her as desperately as she kissed him.
When they parted, neither of them opened their eyes– he felt her breath across his skin, her forehead pressed to his, and he breathed her in. "I pray that is a yes," he whispered, his eyes finally opening.
"Yes," she confirmed, pulling away enough to look at him, "yes, you beautiful idiot, of course it's a yes." Her eyes were watery, and he swore he could feel his heart squeeze in his chest, suddenly too big for the space it was given behind his ribs. He moved one hand away from her hip, bringing it up to cup the side of her face; he stroked his thumb across her cheekbone.
"I'll get you a ring," he promised, "something to match your beauty, if such a ring exists."
Kala shook her head, "I don't care. I don't care what it is," she laughed, "I'd marry you without one. You've given me more than enough," she claimed, and when she moved, the sun from the window glinted off her- his- golden earring.
"My sun," she whispered to him as she leaned down again, "my stars." Kala pressed her lips to his, soft and captivating.