La Taverne Forge au Feu - The Forge Fire Tavern.

Zaræn was behind the bar and he looked the same as ever. His cheerful smile and easy personality wrapping his customers up securely, making them feel welcomed. Only someone who was paying close attention would see all was not well. They would see how his shoulders slumped when no one was looking. See how his eyes lacked their usual sparkle. He was a man unused to dealing with personal issues. Though he hid it well the signs were there, something was weighing on him. Then he spots Morrigan. He doesn't smile, his eyes don't light up. Instead a look of steely determination washes over him. He hops over the bar and waves to her.

Once Zaræn captures Morrigan's attention he points towards the back forge. Without waiting to see if she follows he disappears into that room. This would be the first time Morrigan stepped foot inside. It is a massive work room with a large forge in the back. Despite the obvious heat radiating off of it the room is not oppressively hot. Indeed the room has an even pleasant temperature. There is a great deal of clutter in the room, tables piled with tools, metal and artifacts stacked on the floor, half completed projects all over the place, a massive golem resting in the back corner. In the center Zaræn has placed a round table on which sits a bottle. When Morrigan enters he affixes her with an inscrutable gaze. His poker face in full effect, he lays his hands on the table.

"This mon-cher is the alternative bottle. The one that comes with a bit of risk. If you want to try it you must agree to a game... It is called truth or dare. I think the rules are self explanatory, nest-ce pas?"

Zaræn nods his understanding and notes the blue trailing through her hair. Morrigan wanted something from him, but it wasn't games. Well sometimes you couldn't get what you wanted. Then again sometimes you could. He drums his fingers on the table produces a coin pauses and then puts it away. Surprisingly there is no flirtatious smile, no sly wink as he speaks again. Just the same look of determination.

"I was going to flip for first turn, but we both know I would cheat. Truth or dare mon-cher?"

There is a flicker of emotion in Zaræn's eyes. Just for a moment something breaks through his poker face. He crushes it before it can be identified but it wasn't a positive emotion. Anger? Disappointment? Fear? It is impossible to say. He takes a moment to consider and finally he says with absolute calm.

"I dare you to cease attempts to control the color of your hair. As for me I will pick truth."

Zaræn takes in the swirling mix of emotions without a word. Morrigan's question hits him and even his composure cracks a bit. He begins to drum the fingers of his right hand. For anyone else this would mean very little, just something you do unconciously. For him though, for a man of such control it screamed about how nervous and off balance he was. Finally he speaks voice remaining absolutely calm.

"In time I think I may have come to watch you sing. I do no think I would have tried to speak to you."

He pauses and once again considers his question. The finger drumming incessantly. He finally notices what his treacherous hand is doing and he stops. He raises the traitor hand and points at her hair.


"Purple means affection, the deeper the purple the stronger the affection. Is that correct? This time I will choose dare."

Well this was certainly awkward. Zaræn wasn't even sure he could drop the mask. He tried though. He relaxed the iron grip he had on his emotions and muscles. The mask that was his face cracked as anxiety and uncertainty seized control. His muscles tightened and tensed as nervousness seized his body. He did not know what was going to happen and that frightened him. Still he looks at her and there is something in his eyes. It is not an emotion she has seen there before and it is hard to nail down.

"Very well. What do you want from me? And I will pick truth."

Zaræn's face paled as she spoke. Morrigan's words were exactly what he hadn't wanted to hear. She was terrified? Well so was he. Then she had to ask the question. Of course how did he not see that coming. Why wouldn't she turn this back on him. The game was too fair and too even with no way to cheat. That was why he had chosen it. His conversation with his brother had boiled down to a single response. "It's time for you to grow up Zaræn. Grow up and make a choice." Now more hiding, no more avoiding.

"If you had asked me two month ago, right after I left your house. I would have wanted you to want nothing from me. I would have wanted for our relationship to be what it should have been from the start. One night of pleasure and perhaps continued days business. What do I want now..."

He picks up the bottle from the table and pours two measures. He slides one to her and keeps the other for himself.

"This is a new brew. It is an experiment for me the taste isn't for everyone. I am not ever sure I like it yet. Yet I find I want to try and acquire the taste. Maybe I will find this isn't for me. Maybe you will decide I am not for you. I do not know. All I know is that there have been very few people who I have met that intrigue me. Very people who I still find fascinating even after I pick them apart. I dare you to try and acquire the taste with me. Let's... let's try and make this work. I will pick dare."

He stands there and waits to see if she will accept the glass or not. The contents within are extraordinary. It tastes powerfully honey and flowers, with an undertone of exotic spices that can't be placed. It is overwhelming, yet seductive, blatant, yet mysterious. It urges you to take another drink, yet it the taste is so strong it is also hard to bring yourself to do so. When he places the bottle on the table he turns it so the label can be read. Scarlet Special Number Three Love?

The play of emotions through Morrigan's hair was fascinating to watch. Each of his words seemed to cause a change. Green and blue as he started until blue overwhelmed. Then red, red anger as she wondered what his game was. Green as she realized his game, followed by a hesitant golden hope. Then loving violet came into the mix and gold was washed away by happy yellow. What had Zaræn gotten himself into? Did he really want such power over another person? He had spent so much of his life as a child worried only about his own happiness. Was he really going to take responsibility for another persons? Not just a person but someone far older than him? When she took a sup of his brew he knew what the answer was. He stepped in and pulled her into him with a strong arm. The other reached up and gently brushed the hair from her face.

"Amour, I dare you to have an actual conversation with me... After we catch up it has been two months after all."

Zaræn leans in and takes a kiss from the lips that had managed to so captivate him. His hand dropped from her face and to the neck line of her dress. He begins to tug it off as the kiss deepens in passion. It had been two months and he intended to make up for lost time, before he made up for lost time.

<Fade to Black.>

That had been different. Better. More intense, more passionate. It hadn't just been about pleasure it had been about something else. He located his pants, which were in the rafters. How had that happened? He shifts through a pile before finding something to throw at them. It takes a few tries but he dislodges them and gets them back on. He mulls over her words, what was next? Usually it was just the amazing sex then out the door. Not following that rule earlier had lead to the what had been mind blowing sex. Logic dictated that the next move should be...

"Well Amour I beleive the dare was to have an actual conversation once we caught up. Since you cooked me breakfast allow me to get you dinner. Let us retire to the main floor and eat. There we can talk to each other as though we aren't just interested in the content of the others pants. Well at least until after dinner. After that I think I will invite you upstairs."

He leads the way up the stairs and sets down in a private booth. He waves over a server and ask for a glass of the carmean red and an order poutine with bacon. Morrigan is advised that she can order whatever she wants. Once the waitress leaves he turns his attention back to Morrigan. What did on talk about in this situation? What did one talk about when they were talking to a beautiful woman, that they had already slept with; but you didn't want them to leave, because you didn't want to just sleep with them. He hadn't the foggiest relationships were uncharted territory for him.

Awkward? Sky no one had ever accused Zaraen of being awkward! Of being a bastard, a silver tongued devil, a delinquent just to name a few. Never awkward though. He had always been too sure and confident for that. Still he supposed if anyone deserved to see him be awkward it was Morrigan. She was the woman who had gotten him to want to try and settle down. What had he done these last two months? His instinct was to say something pithy and charming. "Oh a little of this a little of that. Had to get things just right for our meeting, mon-cher!" He supposed though that would undercut what he was trying to do. Let's go with the truth then.

"Well let's see after I left your house I went to see my brother. I already had an inkling as to the significance of the violet in your hair. I wasn't sure how I felt about that so I sought his advice. It boiled down to him telling me to grow up. I have spent a great deal of time acting like a selfish child. He told me I could either continue to do so and being secretly miserable or I could try something new. Then I spent two weeks throwing a protracted hissy fit."

Zaraen grimaced at the memory. He had not liked Gergor's advice and he had spent a great deal of time sulking in his forge. He didn't like being told he needed to change. Even if he hadn't been happy it wasn't because of something he was doing wrong. It was just the world that was boring. Everything was too simple, too easy. If something couldn't be understood right away, well then it wasn't worth learning. That was the kind of silly logic he had lived on for far too long. It had taken several confrontations with his brother before he had decided to make a choice. He thinks about keeping this to himself, instead he summarizes it as best he can. Once that is done he moves on.

"After that I spent two weeks gathering my courage to go see you. Then I realized I didn't have it in me to risk showing up in person. So I spent a month creating the perfect liqueur, for a very round about way of asking a woman on a date. What about yourself amour? How did you spend our time apart?"