Culture Clash
Prompt: Is Zevran really "a fool who spends too much time on his hair"? Does the Warden appreciate that? ;) Perhaps Zevran has a fondness for the Warden's tresses? Maybe he shares hair care tips with Leliana? :p Take it and run with it, gaiz XD
I suppose you can consider this a very, very late non-entry for this prompt. I definitely spent more than an hour on it.
I asked Keiran what he thought about hair, and when he said, "It's just hair. It covers your head and you cut it when it gets too long," I had a feeling that certain companions would not be pleased to hear that...
Warnings: none
-----------------------
Since leaving his clan Keiran's hair had grown well past his shoulders; it was definitely too long for his liking. He pulled his hair back and gathered it with one hand. With the other, he unsheathed his hunting knife, pressed it against the strands, and was just about to cut when he heard Leliana yelling behind him. The Warden sighed and turned around, wondering what was going on now. Did Shale try to give Alistair a 'hug' again? Was Morrigan trying to light Alistair's pants on fire? His fellow Grey Warden always seemed to be on the receiving end of these things.
Leliana was running towards him, quickly followed by Zevran. Both of them were looking at him like he was committing some sort of crime, but what? He let his hands fall to his sides and asked, "What's wrong?"
Leliana stopped right in front of Keiran and glared sternly at him. "You were not about to just hack off your hair!"
Keiran was taken aback. All this fuss was over his hair? "But I always cut it this way," he explained.
The rogues exchanged a look, then Zevran tsk'ed and shook his head. "A pity. All that wonderful hair and our leader doesn't even show it proper respect."
"Respect?" Keiran asked in confusion. "But it's just hair."
"Just hair?" Leliana shrieked.
"Yes, just hair," Keiran said annoyedly. Why was she so upset? "It covers your head, and you cut it when it gets too long."
Leliana took several deep breaths. "Well, yes," she said patiently. "But with proper scissors, not a filthy hunting knife. You're really going to look like a savage if you just hack it off."
Keiran scowled at the bard. He knew that she probably didn't mean to be insulting, but he hated being called a savage and considered it to be as bad a slur as knife-ear.
"Yes, you must think of your Grey Warden reputation," added Zevran teasingly before Keiran could snap at Leliana. "What will people think of you if you show up with your hair in such a mess?"
Keiran rolled his eyes. "Right, because the people we save from darkspawn, bandits, undead hordes controlled by a possessed child, and Creators only know what else are going to care what my hair looks like when I'm covered in blood and entrails." Keiran crossed his arms and glared at the two rogues. "You two are having me on, right? This cannot possibly be such a big deal."
Zevran sighed. "You have a lot to learn about the world outside the forest, my friend." He nodded at Leliana and the two rogues each grabbed an arm and pulled Keiran back towards the campfire.
"Hey! What are you doing?" he cried. Keiran dug in his heels and brought his warrior's strength to bear against them. "Unhand me, or I'll put you both on dog cleanup duty, I swear."
Barkspawn looked up from where he was resting nearby, looked appraisingly at the situation, then promptly put his head back down. "Some help you are," Keiran said with mock hurt. "Aren't you supposed to be defending me?" He was almost certain the damn dog rolled his eyes at him.
Zevran looked back at the Warden and smirked. "Stop struggling. I am going to give you a proper haircut. You said you wished to learn our customs, yes? This is a part of that."
Keiran had to admit that the other elf was right. He had always been eager to see what the world outside the forest had to offer, and had jumped at the chance to leave his clan with Duncan, swearing never to return. "Fine." He let the pair lead him to the campfire. "But you had better not try anything," he said, referring to the other elf's failed assassination attempt several weeks ago.
"Now, now, you know that was nothing personal." Zevran pushed Keiran down on a overturned tree trunk someone had set near the fire, and Leliana ran off to her tent. "Just relax, Warden. It will all be over soon." While waiting for the bard to retrieve the scissors, Zevran started examining Keiran's hair. "Why is it that those that have the least respect for it always seem to be blessed with great hair?" he said idly as he ran his fingers through the Warden's locks. "I know several people back in Antiva City that would kill to have hair as lovely and thick as yours."
When Keiran stuttered "K-kill?" it was not from surprise at what Zevran said, but from what he was doing. The fingers running through his hair were not unpleasant, far from it in fact.
"Ah, do not worry," Zevran said bemusedly. "I am quite pleased with my own hair." Then the assassin started massaging his scalp, and Keiran squirmed in his seat. Thankfully, Leliana returned at that moment, and Zevran lifted his hands away to take the scissors and a comb away from her. Keiran wasn't sure if he was relieved or regretful about that, and it bothered him.
The haircut itself was nothing special in Keiran's opinion. But somehow, he doubted that it was required for the assassin to touch his sensitive ears so much, making him squirm even more. "You're doing that on purpose," he said accusingly after one especially long, slow stroke almost made him moan out loud.
"And what exactly is it that I am doing?" Zevran asked innocently as he worked at untangling a knot.
"Touching my ears like that." Keiran heard a noise and glanced up. Leliana was giggling at him. Was his discomfort that obvious? He glared daggers at the bard, and she just giggled harder.
Behind her, Alistair was sitting on another log, staring at him with concern. "Hey, you don't look well. Are you feeling alright?"
"I'm fine," Keiran lied. He heard Zevran's quiet chuckle and swore under his breath. Looking down, he noticed that his hands were clenched so tightly in his lap that his knuckles were turning white. What the hell was wrong with him? He hadn't felt so odd in years, not since...
No! He was not having that reaction to the damn assassin. He was not attracted to him! That was the last thing he wanted to happen, but it seemed that his body disagreed with him. Greatly embarrassed by his reaction, Keiran willed himself to calm down, and, to his relief, the rest of the haircut happened without incident.
"There, all done." Zevran said several minutes later. He walked around the Warden, admiring his work. "You will surely get all the ladies now," he teased.
"I have better things to do than chase skirts." It was his standard reply to hide the fact that, well, he had zero interest in ladies. "Like stop a Blight, for instance."
The damn assassin smirked at him. "And what about men? Would you chase them?"
Keiran wasn't sure what noise he made, but the looks on Zevran and Leliana's faces made it clear that he'd just confirmed something for them.
It appeared that his secret wasn't one anymore. Damnit.
I suppose you can consider this a very, very late non-entry for this prompt. I definitely spent more than an hour on it.
I asked Keiran what he thought about hair, and when he said, "It's just hair. It covers your head and you cut it when it gets too long," I had a feeling that certain companions would not be pleased to hear that...
Warnings: none
-----------------------
Since leaving his clan Keiran's hair had grown well past his shoulders; it was definitely too long for his liking. He pulled his hair back and gathered it with one hand. With the other, he unsheathed his hunting knife, pressed it against the strands, and was just about to cut when he heard Leliana yelling behind him. The Warden sighed and turned around, wondering what was going on now. Did Shale try to give Alistair a 'hug' again? Was Morrigan trying to light Alistair's pants on fire? His fellow Grey Warden always seemed to be on the receiving end of these things.
Leliana was running towards him, quickly followed by Zevran. Both of them were looking at him like he was committing some sort of crime, but what? He let his hands fall to his sides and asked, "What's wrong?"
Leliana stopped right in front of Keiran and glared sternly at him. "You were not about to just hack off your hair!"
Keiran was taken aback. All this fuss was over his hair? "But I always cut it this way," he explained.
The rogues exchanged a look, then Zevran tsk'ed and shook his head. "A pity. All that wonderful hair and our leader doesn't even show it proper respect."
"Respect?" Keiran asked in confusion. "But it's just hair."
"Just hair?" Leliana shrieked.
"Yes, just hair," Keiran said annoyedly. Why was she so upset? "It covers your head, and you cut it when it gets too long."
Leliana took several deep breaths. "Well, yes," she said patiently. "But with proper scissors, not a filthy hunting knife. You're really going to look like a savage if you just hack it off."
Keiran scowled at the bard. He knew that she probably didn't mean to be insulting, but he hated being called a savage and considered it to be as bad a slur as knife-ear.
"Yes, you must think of your Grey Warden reputation," added Zevran teasingly before Keiran could snap at Leliana. "What will people think of you if you show up with your hair in such a mess?"
Keiran rolled his eyes. "Right, because the people we save from darkspawn, bandits, undead hordes controlled by a possessed child, and Creators only know what else are going to care what my hair looks like when I'm covered in blood and entrails." Keiran crossed his arms and glared at the two rogues. "You two are having me on, right? This cannot possibly be such a big deal."
Zevran sighed. "You have a lot to learn about the world outside the forest, my friend." He nodded at Leliana and the two rogues each grabbed an arm and pulled Keiran back towards the campfire.
"Hey! What are you doing?" he cried. Keiran dug in his heels and brought his warrior's strength to bear against them. "Unhand me, or I'll put you both on dog cleanup duty, I swear."
Barkspawn looked up from where he was resting nearby, looked appraisingly at the situation, then promptly put his head back down. "Some help you are," Keiran said with mock hurt. "Aren't you supposed to be defending me?" He was almost certain the damn dog rolled his eyes at him.
Zevran looked back at the Warden and smirked. "Stop struggling. I am going to give you a proper haircut. You said you wished to learn our customs, yes? This is a part of that."
Keiran had to admit that the other elf was right. He had always been eager to see what the world outside the forest had to offer, and had jumped at the chance to leave his clan with Duncan, swearing never to return. "Fine." He let the pair lead him to the campfire. "But you had better not try anything," he said, referring to the other elf's failed assassination attempt several weeks ago.
"Now, now, you know that was nothing personal." Zevran pushed Keiran down on a overturned tree trunk someone had set near the fire, and Leliana ran off to her tent. "Just relax, Warden. It will all be over soon." While waiting for the bard to retrieve the scissors, Zevran started examining Keiran's hair. "Why is it that those that have the least respect for it always seem to be blessed with great hair?" he said idly as he ran his fingers through the Warden's locks. "I know several people back in Antiva City that would kill to have hair as lovely and thick as yours."
When Keiran stuttered "K-kill?" it was not from surprise at what Zevran said, but from what he was doing. The fingers running through his hair were not unpleasant, far from it in fact.
"Ah, do not worry," Zevran said bemusedly. "I am quite pleased with my own hair." Then the assassin started massaging his scalp, and Keiran squirmed in his seat. Thankfully, Leliana returned at that moment, and Zevran lifted his hands away to take the scissors and a comb away from her. Keiran wasn't sure if he was relieved or regretful about that, and it bothered him.
The haircut itself was nothing special in Keiran's opinion. But somehow, he doubted that it was required for the assassin to touch his sensitive ears so much, making him squirm even more. "You're doing that on purpose," he said accusingly after one especially long, slow stroke almost made him moan out loud.
"And what exactly is it that I am doing?" Zevran asked innocently as he worked at untangling a knot.
"Touching my ears like that." Keiran heard a noise and glanced up. Leliana was giggling at him. Was his discomfort that obvious? He glared daggers at the bard, and she just giggled harder.
Behind her, Alistair was sitting on another log, staring at him with concern. "Hey, you don't look well. Are you feeling alright?"
"I'm fine," Keiran lied. He heard Zevran's quiet chuckle and swore under his breath. Looking down, he noticed that his hands were clenched so tightly in his lap that his knuckles were turning white. What the hell was wrong with him? He hadn't felt so odd in years, not since...
No! He was not having that reaction to the damn assassin. He was not attracted to him! That was the last thing he wanted to happen, but it seemed that his body disagreed with him. Greatly embarrassed by his reaction, Keiran willed himself to calm down, and, to his relief, the rest of the haircut happened without incident.
"There, all done." Zevran said several minutes later. He walked around the Warden, admiring his work. "You will surely get all the ladies now," he teased.
"I have better things to do than chase skirts." It was his standard reply to hide the fact that, well, he had zero interest in ladies. "Like stop a Blight, for instance."
The damn assassin smirked at him. "And what about men? Would you chase them?"
Keiran wasn't sure what noise he made, but the looks on Zevran and Leliana's faces made it clear that he'd just confirmed something for them.
It appeared that his secret wasn't one anymore. Damnit.