The shift had been strange. To be a part of Isaac's world- to be a part of the world of those he cared for- to be an ageless thing at the beck and call of a dragon- that had his mind ill at ease but he kept his thoughts to himself. Aside from cursory letters exchanged with Isaac in return for goods, little has been said on the matter. Zevran had been equally quiet and still in the house- tending to his leather working and trying, desperately, to ignore everything that happened. All those memories from lives that were not his roiled in his mind. Curdled his thoughts. Twisted and refused to stay in the far corners where he attempted to shove them.
But it held for some time. It held up until he spoke with Isaac- of leathers and armor and the vague suggestions of sentiment. The loyalty he felt he still owed the man was heavy in his gut and it left him free to wonder over their association for what wasn't the first and would likely not be the last time.
Had he truly become domestic? Had he become soft- and if so was that such a terrible thing? He had asked them once if they minded a viper in their lives and in their bed- vipers lay best with vipers but that ship had long since sailed. There was no safe harbor for him there. All he has is this home in which he feels increasingly uncomfortable. Out of sorts he hovered in the kitchen, stirring- something.
He could not even remember what he had begun preparing for dinner. He could not recall when it was that dinners became something he made, almost exclusively.
WHen did he become a house elf? The term stings, his wings tuck up against his back and he had to step away from the stove for a moment just to breathe. He was a crow. A warrior. An assassin. What had become of him? "..."
THE UNBURDENING May 5th, 2014 action
But it held for some time. It held up until he spoke with Isaac- of leathers and armor and the vague suggestions of sentiment. The loyalty he felt he still owed the man was heavy in his gut and it left him free to wonder over their association for what wasn't the first and would likely not be the last time.
Had he truly become domestic? Had he become soft- and if so was that such a terrible thing? He had asked them once if they minded a viper in their lives and in their bed- vipers lay best with vipers but that ship had long since sailed. There was no safe harbor for him there. All he has is this home in which he feels increasingly uncomfortable. Out of sorts he hovered in the kitchen, stirring- something.
He could not even remember what he had begun preparing for dinner. He could not recall when it was that dinners became something he made, almost exclusively.
WHen did he become a house elf? The term stings, his wings tuck up against his back and he had to step away from the stove for a moment just to breathe. He was a crow. A warrior. An assassin. What had become of him? "..."