z_jay | Luceti | Appointments

"It is not simply dinner, Jack!" Zev turned now to look at them, both of them, caught between the muzzed recollection of what had been and the stark ache of what was. "What am I to you, to both of you?"

Edited 2014-05-14 04:09 (UTC)

Reading the unease off of Jack was easy, he didn't even have to look at him. He was about to agree that a bath would be a great idea-- relieve some tension, give everyone a chance to refocus and center themselves. But it wasn't about chores, as much as he wished it would have been, though he was genuinely perplexed. What Zevran was asking was something that he thought they'd already established. If that was the case, reaffirming it shouldn't be a problem...

"Zev, you're our husband, or, if you don't like that label, someone dear enough to us that we trust you with our lives," he did take a moment to glance back at Jack, knowing that in the past he had questioned this arrangement, but now he was comfortable with this. "With our hearts."

With a soft sigh, he ran a hand through his hair, forcing the tension out of his shoulders. "Y'know, all those things left unsaid because we trust you to know we wouldn't take advantage of that?"

Eugene puts it better than he could, probably, and Jack nods dumbly in agreement, fingers still twisted nervously in the apron and apprehension prickling through him, all the more sharply for having been snapped at and his feelings questioned so bluntly. It wasn't just that question. Zevran had already been told the answer to that question dozens of times, in words and actions alike, and they all knew it. There was something else, another question or even a statement, and he just hadn't said it yet.

"Or mean to take advantage of it, I guess," he amended, trying again, still hunting for that unlikely hope that there was some discrete objection. Something he could fix. "If we did something, said something that made you feel like that, we can do literally whatever it takes to make it better, promise-"

"Am I truly?" They've been kind, true, endlessly kind, endlessly patient with him and his moods but for some twist in his gut it felt less and less like affection and compassion and more like condescension. Why was he here with them? Why was he in their home, in their bed, feeling more and more the stranger every time he woke? It had little to do with the shift but that, that was not true. He'd felt whole. He'd felt ALIVE when he'd been a cambion for that was a world he understood.

He'd felt stilted and off center when he had been human for so many reasons, least of all because he better understood their world and how it was they were back home.

They belonged together. Anyone could see that. Two pieces that fit without any shred of strangeness, propping the other up. Him? He was a bronze little warped strip settled between them, creating gaps, rending them askew, before he'd seen the war maybe he had been determined to enjoy this as best he could but now?

Now it did not fit.

"How can you claim that of me when you do not know me?"

"It's called unconditional," his tone was flat, expression a deadpan as he stated what he knew to be an obvious truth. To know that Zev still questioned it, even after their reassurances, their actions, their willingness to continue to welcome with open arms-- it felt like it was all thrown back in their faces. Thrown back with unsaid accusations of taking advantage of a system of a world which they didn't inhabit.

They both understood the strains a difficult life could place on people, of how it manifested in grotesque, hurtful ways, but there were only human and thus, even Eugene's patience could be worn away.

"Look, it-- how else can we convince you, Zev?" here it was where some of the strain in his voice came out, and try as he might to disguise it, he couldn't.

One word. One word and Zev went from still and utterly controlled, every subtle twitch tamped down on and ignored to laughing. It was wretched and bitter and roiling- a frustrated echo of his usual warm chuckle. Unconditional. There was no such thing- and for Eugene to lay that out like it was truth, like it was one of the building blocks of anything in this world? It stung.

But it was a familiar sting. He'd been lied to all his life. He'd never really expected it to be different with them. If anything he was relieved that they'd given up the con. "There is no such thing as unconditional, Eugene. There is always a price. There is always a limit. To say otherwise is a lie."

This, this he knew how to handle. This had him loose in his stance, fluid in a way that spoke nothing of the elf that built this kitchen or held them tenderly and everything of a Crow cornered. A crow beaten down and whittled away. An assassin as he should be. "What do you know of me, truly? Of my world? How can you claim to love someone unconditionally when you do not know all that that person has done? I cannot speak of most of my past for how it causes you to flinch."

That was it, then. That was the unspoken command, and even with the low relief of finally hearing it voiced, Jack felt his breath catch and throat tighten perilously. Prove you love me. That was what he wanted to challenge them with, after every trouble and hardship. He wanted to give them one more, and he just couldn't shake the feeling he wanted them to fail one of these times. To prove his blackest thoughts right.

"It's what we claim, all right?" he countered, tone sharp and earnest, eyes level on Zevran. "We love you. End of story. You need to test it, fine. Tell us whatever you think is going to change our minds."

For his part, as much as he didn't think he'd been lying about how he felt, his own affections toward Zevran stated simply, clear as day, he listened. He knew from his own stance that he was not lying, and that something else was motive for Zevran to accuse him of doing so. This behavior wasn't like Zev, though-- had he been altering his responses to please them? It was a sobering thought, and one that made his stomach feel like lead.

"Zev, what we know of you and the world you come from is what you gave us in the book shortly after we met you, and from what we've gleaned otherwise. Without being there ourselves, we can't possibly know your world outside of a book." Unconditional love was simply that-- without conditions. And what he had hoped would calm the situation had instead backfired and brought this to the fore. Maybe it was better this way, to get it out even if it wasn't exactly smooth.

"And lots of things make us flinch, Zev. But if you want us to prove it, okay. I'm game, and so's Jack. We've dealt with one apocalypse, I doubt that you've got something so hideous in your past to change our minds. Especially now."

"Then TREAT ME like you do one another!" And here it was, the crux of it. Be it intentional or circumstantial that odd disconnect is there; he looked at them and how they are with one another and felt out of place. And he hated being made to feel as though he did not belong. He'd endured it all his life in Thedas- he had no patience to do so here. Not any longer. "When you two have your differences there isn't any fear in the argument! Even now you say you love me and you stand at arms length, even though I am unarmed and have sworn since the beginning that I will never hurt you. For even if I have laid my heart and loyalty at your feet you fear that which I am without even understanding the whole of it. I attempt to explain and you flinch. You laugh, You wave my life, my world off as something absurd or uncomfortable and I will not apologize any longer for the fact that my mere existence is nothing like the elves you have read in your fiction. I will not apologize for what was done to me and what it has made of me and I am tired of being made to feel like I should!"

The heart of the matter was being laid bare, under layers of flesh and bone, ignorance willful or otherwise and discomfort. He chipped away at all of that to flay and skin and crack until he could put it in something even they from their world might understand. "How can you feel such fear around me and claim I am loved. How can you look upon Isaac who has lived as I have lived and feel naught but contempt? We behave in different ways, he bitter on the surface but simply because I smile and laugh and mock what I have endured does not mean that rot doesn't lie within my bones as well. When I am tired, when I am weary and angry it feels as though these things are an inconvenience to you so yes, I feel as though I am a house elf. An ornament. Something treasured but kept upon a shelf for all that it is worth. I've had my troubles and you have not asked! I have had my screaming terrors in the night and neither of you have asked after them, be it out of fear or a lack of desire to know, it matters not. What matters is you have seen the cracks and rather than address them I feel as though you ignore them. I feel as though simply because I am an elf and I come from a world where there are dragons and dwarves and golems my problems are not considered worthwhile."

He took a slow, ragged breath and looked at them, one after the other. "I feel as though I am not taken seriously in this house. In any way save that which might cause you harm and that? That is a pain I am tired of enduring."

Stunned into silence, Eugene tried to focus on the parts which were important. Trouble was, there was so much being thrown at them both all at once that he was worried about missing a vital piece. However important, they needed to navigate this carefully, as some things, intentional or not, were being misunderstood. "...You're right. We do tend to shirk off the bad and favor the good. I'd say it's because we've learned to live for the good moments and the bad are just something worked through, but..." they were in Luceti now, had been for some time. It didn't erase the fact that their world left an indelible mark on their emotional coping. Night terrors were a fact of life, children bore the brunt of it, but it was not something that could be fixed or worked away. "But we do take you seriously, Zev. And it's never been our intention to hurt or diminish you."

He stepped forward after giving Jack a quick glance, wanting to bridge this gap that Zev noticed, felt, pointed out was really there. One hand reached to grasp and squeeze a shoulder, offering a nervous smile. Not nervousness borne out of fear, but borne out of not knowing quite how to proceed with the right steps in mind. A difficult dance, to be sure, but he would weather this. They would, and they'd come out stronger in the end for it.

"Granted, Jack and myself aren't the smartest of guys, but when we do wrong, we try our best to right it. You don't need to endure. We're here, and we'd never ask you to be some trophy we put on display."

"God, absolutely." Jack had been tongue-tied by the outburst, snared by the sense that thoughtfulness was what was needed before fervour. But with Eugene supplying the former, he fell into the latter earnestly, shaking his head and rocking closer. "I never meant it that way, I promise, I just . . . always got the impression it was something you didn't want to talk about."

So many times in the early months, skillful dodges and sweet distractions every time he asked, until he learned to just . . . not. To stuff down the simmering curiosities, to give Zevran that privacy he guarded so jealousy, even through the sense that keeping it must have hurt him.

"And you're right. From what it sounds like, humans . . . where you come from, we have a crap record, as far as elves are concerned. So I just really, really didn't want to be the guy making you talk about something you didn't want to talk about, you know? I . . . I wanted it to be your choice to bring all that out into the open. I didn't want to just barge in and acted like I was entitled to it."

Edited 2014-05-27 03:43 (UTC)

"You still have not answered my question! How can you look upon Isaac with loathing and say that you love me? We are cut from the same cloth." Even now, they seemed afraid. Even now Gene looked to Jack before approaching and be it for reassurance or a basic check for his own safety- it stung. It would always sting. "Asking after something and demanding that it be told are two very different things, Jack. You know this. You both know this. If you wish to make this right, truly? Answer me. To you, to both of you, what is the difference in your eyes between me and Isaac."

"You're Zevran Aranai." for one, which was just a start, and Eugene rose an eyebrow as he mentioned it plain. "That, and you've never given me an impression that you'd be in a position to attack myself or Jack, despite what you're interpreting. You're far more approachable, and why are you even comparing yourself to him? If we're in a relationship, it's with you, not with him. You talk about us flinching away from you in fear-- it's not fear, it's because we're trying to respect your space. Do you think we're so heartless, really? That hurts us to hear that." Some of this seemed genuinely not right, that something was definitely illogical about not simply the question, but what it might be coming from. He hadn't looked to Jack for confirmation that it was alright to approach, or to check for his own safety, but to confirm a sense of solidarity that they were both on the same page, here. Trying to work this out together.

"And frankly, if you can't trust us, or what we're saying... there's nothing we can really do to convince you. Or at least, this is what I'm hearing from you when you refute everything we're telling you, plain as day."

That was getting a bit heated at the end there, and Jack put a hand to Eugene's shoulder to quiet him before he got on even more of a roll, though he only got a brief cautionary look before his eyes went right to Zevran - hard and hurt and bewildered all at once. But he stepped close - close enough for Zevran to do any of the bloody things he had told him about in exquisite detail - and forced his voice into motion.

"Few things. First of all, I don't loathe Isaac, all right? I have tried to be friendly with him more times than I can count, and if it seems like I'm trying less these days, it's because I'm running out of ways to try. His life was shit, and completely unfair, and there is fuck all I can do to make any of that right-"

He felt his breath catch, and swallowed, willing himself not to think about the things he'd heard. Death and loneliness and the whole of one little boy distilled down to a handful of coins. The same cloth.

"The thing about cloth is you- you don't have to cut just one kind of garment from it, right? I've tried with Isaac and at the end of the day he probably just hates me more for it, whatever his reasons are. You-" He breathed again, though his throat felt tight and hot - not with fear that he'd be stuck or stabbed, but with fear all the same. There were so many more ways than that for someone who loved you to hurt you. "Well, for awhile at least, I think you gave me that chance, you had some- some sense of hope, or patience, or . . . just. Whatever it is that makes your actions so different, even if what you're made of isn't any different than what Isaac's got."

He tried to pull the thoughts together, and found himself laughing coarsely, softly, lifting a hand to rub at his face. "Whatever it is I've buggered up. Sorry."

"There is nothing to be made right with him. Just as there is nothing to be made right with me. We are the products of our circumstances but we have survived. We have endured. We have come out harder for it." That- that he has to put forward- there is nothing that needs fixing in either of them. They aren't broken. Just...different. Honed at a slightly harder edge than the rest of the world. Sharper, crueler, but just as worthy of what he seemed to have found with these two. What he's afraid of losing.

"...humor. I was, at first, humoring you. Both of you. It is not often a human man looks upon me in awe or appreciation. It felt...it feels. Good. To have that. Then it was curiosity after your own world and how it is you behave around me and then attraction, you both know you're ridiculously handsome that is beside the point-" An apology of sorts, this, for all that he felt raw and weary and unsteady. "Then the dying and the living after the dying without the desire and...hope, I think? Which is what I have lost. But not for anything you have done or not done. The war stole it from me. Fighting my way through the alienage, walking over the bodies of what could have been my slaughtered kin? What I have seen. What I have lived through has made me question many things, especially upon my return here. I care for you both and I know you care for me but- in my world there is no such thing as unconditional. There is always a line. I would never, but were I to take a knife to you- I would not want you to forgive that."

He took a slow breath and reached out to them, both of them. Wary. So, so wary. "There must be a limit. I do not know where that is anymore- if I ever did. I need one. Please. We can...start there and speak of the rest."

"Limits we can do," one of the only things they could really begin to sink their teeth into, at least. Other things, reconciling war experiences, dealing with identity, and nuances of racism they had no way to grasp would be a different matter. In fact, he felt a little overwhelmed of where to even begin in that, which caused him a little anxiety... but he had Jack to help. Which made things immensely more manageable. Even if he would never admit that aloud to him. So he reached out one hand to grasp one of Zev's, giving a firm squeeze.

"I don't think it's our goal to change you or make you somehow right. Besides, we like you how you are, right, Jack?" he looked over at him and leaned in to press a soft kiss to his temple. In Eugene's mind he hadn't done wrong, but Jack was always the kind of idealist to assume responsibility. "How about we put the limit to if you attack us, we'll call it quits." Something that went without saying in a general sense, but maybe he was relying too much on his own preconceived notions of what limitations should be healthy and unhealthy.

Little by little, the tension started to leech back out of Jack as Zevran explained himself, laid out that orderly timeline of all the mysteries flying through his mind. What had changed, and when it has changed, and most importantly what had not changed. They still cared for each other. As long as there was that, rebuilding the rest wasn't impossible. And Zevran was flat out telling them what he needed, to the point where it would be stupid or cruel to ignore it.

He offered a wan smile to the kiss, and where Eugene took Zevran's hand in his own he did the same, drawing in close enough to nearly pin their arms between them, interweaving their fingers and kissing the knuckles.

"Yeah, we didn't exactly fall in love thinking you were a pacifist," he quipped, offering a hopeful little smile, if only a glimmer of one. "But I'm all right with Gene's idea. The deal-breaker is attack - deliberate, physical, outside the battle dome stuff. Shifts still don't count. How's that."

It surprised him how much he needed that. A limit. Something to hold him in line, something to keep in mind. Cross that line and this was over. But it was something definite. A rule. He could follow rules- and this was one they all agreed upon. Not unspoken, no one of them held power over the others. He could live with that. He leaned into them both as they drew close and took a slow, shuddering breath.

"I would never. Will never. But I may have days when I need reminding why it is you find me endearing rather than enticing, yes? It just seems too good to be true to have this; to be an equal partner rather than a bit the two of you share on the side now and then." Whether they meant to make him feel so or not- that was how it seemed to him on his worse days. It was a side effect of the world he lived in, his upbringing, knowing precisely how much he was worth and why.

That was a request that wasn't unheard of. Some occasions, he would like to be reminded as well, instead of being taken for granted. His smile was softened, giving Zev's hand a squeeze and maybe giving Jack a little more space to get closer before he slid his arms around them both. Jack had a tendency to have a more idealistic stake in things, and Eugene hadn't always been the best at communicating verbally to appease those. Plus, being taller made this slightly less bumbly.

"For the record, it's both, not one or the other." his hand rubbed along the spot between Zev's wings, a little hesitant, but not out of fear or anything with reservation as to what Zevran would do. He knew the man was sensitive near his ears, and wouldn't want to detract from the importance of this discussion with a distraction of sensation. But he knew from his own experience that contact could provide a further layer of comfort than just words and actions.

Trust Eugene to do the right thing - even if that was smushing them together in a hug that had Jack going off balance, his face abruptly planting into the side of Zevran's head, landing him with a faceful of hair and a tangle of limbs and sobriety cracking into soft, helpless laughter. Slipping an arm around Zevran's waist, he leaned back enough to meet his eyes, tension shedding off of him bit by bit.

"We can start listing reasons now, if you like." Relaxing came easily, curled up with the two of them. "Unless there's anything else on your mind?"

"That would not be remiss." He murmurs, sagging into Gene's bulk, feathers twitching a bit before he goes liquid at that soothing touch. He needed that tactile confirmation of affection, ever uncertain of this. Of his place. It never seemed quite real to him, how they were. He has been braced since the first day for something he has done or said to simply be not enough; and is gratified to find that that wasn't the case. They are fine. Even with this odd twist of disassociation, they would be fine.

Luceti | Appointments

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