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"Has anyone told you what marvellous eyes you possess, my dear?"
The question caused Natia to pause in her approach to the camp, her surprise freezing her in place. The voice, and even the words themselves, were intimately familiar. Zev had certainly not been shy with his flattery throughout their association, but what startled her now was not the content but rather the intended recipient. Natia felt an uncomfortable sensation deep in her stomach.
"Again with the flattery? Do you not tire from these pointless exercises?" Morrigan snapped back irritably. Her snark briefly settled the sick feeling Natia but it came back twice as strong with the assassin's response.
"In Antiva, women are accustomed to being showered with the praise they deserve. Men should worship you at your feet whilst you pass." She wasn't jealous. There was no reason for her to be jealous. Zevran could speak to whoever he wished. She was just surprised, that's all. His tone was not the normal easy, casual flirting that he normally indulged in whilst in camp. This seemed intentional in a way that his previous interactions with Morrigan never had. She had simply not realised that Zev was interested in pursuing Morrigan. He had never shown-
"They don't find that incredibly annoying?" Morrigan's response cut off her thoughts. Zev's intentions seemed irrelevant as Morrigan's irritation was making her opinion of his overtures perfectly clear. Still, her own reaction to this was ridiculous. Yes, she and Zev had an understanding, but they didn't owed each other anything. Their last conversation had made that quite clear.
"They are goddesses receiving their subjects, just as you should be. Whatever would be annoying about that?" Still, what had caused this sudden change in the elf? They had been relieving each other's tension for several months now, and whilst it was true that they had not promised anything, she had believed that they had an unspoken agreement. They would not muddy the water within camp by sleeping around with the others. There was too much potential for it to become awkward and she and Zev knew where they stood with one another. Why would he seek to break that silent understanding now? Was this because of the earring?
"I have no wish to be placed upon a pedestal." In rejecting the earring had she scared him away? Had the mere implication that she might be open to a romantic relationship been such a terrifying prospect?
"But you deserve no less! You should be admired by painters, copied by sculptors, exalted by poets! Surely you know that yours is a beauty so exotic it - it would turn the eye of the Maker Himself!" Oh, he was laying it on thick. He must be truly desperate for an alternative partner. Not that Natia would blame him, why would he want to lumber himself with some ugly casteless reject who couldn't control her own feelings? It was inevitable really, why had she ever thought they could remain as they were?
"Well I suppose..." No. She was no masochist. If Morrigan was to respond favourably to Zevran's advances then she would not stay around to hear it. Turning on her heels she slipped away from the camp unnoticed before she could hear the conclusion of the conversation. Making her way back towards the steam she had just come from, Natia located the large protruding rock which had served so admirably as a drying spot for her clothes not so long ago. Settling herself against the protrusion, she allowed the cool touch of the stone to soothe her agitated nerves as she contemplated how she had found herself in this current situation.
It had all started out as a pleasant diversion, she'd certainly never intended to fall for the damn elf. A bit of fun, he'd get his rocks off, she'd get to ride the bony express, both got a bit, or a whole lot, of something and no one got hurt. Stone knew she'd realised how very mismatched they looked. Anything more would be ridiculous. Zevran was so very attractive and she was, well. She was just bratty, little Brosca. Rica's pain-in-the-ass younger sister. A face not even her mam could love and so skinny you might as well plough the air. So what if the regular meals up top had put some meat on her bones? She was still a long way from some great dwarven beauty. Why would Zevran want anything more than a roll in the dust with her? She should consider herself lucky he even considered her for that.
But then it happened again. Not only that, but it had become a regular thing. They had been having fun, and it wasn't always just sex. Well, until that last conversation at least, the one following their encounter with Taliesen. Sure, she regretted that Zev had been forced to fight his previous friend but she found that she couldn't regret his freedom. She'd been so happy for him. Right up until he'd attempted to gift her with that blasted earring.
If there was one thing you learnt growing up in Dust Town it was that there was no such thing as a free gift. And she knew Zev had grown up under similar circumstances so he must understand that. Know how it would look to her. If the reason for his gift was that he'd come to care for her the way she had for him then, and only then, could she accept it. His own words had quickly disabused her of that notion and so confirmed Natia's own actions. She was no whore. She would not accept this payment. She'd rejected the earring.
He hadn't approached her since. Clearly the unintentional revelation that a token of his affection would not be unwelcome had scared Zevran off. She would approach him later, see if she could resolve this. It chafed at her ego to beg in such away but-
The dwarf heaved a deep, remorseful sigh. But. For one more night where she felt like someone just might consider her somewhat beautiful? For that? Natia might even grovel.
"Blast it!" A hoarse curse, ground out between tightly clenched teeth and between heaving breaths. Blasted ancestors, she was pathetic.