stormthedarkcity:

Pride

Long time no see <3 here’s one of the few (very few) prompts I wrote for pride month. I’ll try and post the other ones later. And here’s an AO3 link!

Zevran fic, mostly a character study, 1k, rated T for themes of loss, heartbreak, growing pains

Zevran used to love his mother’s gloves. He’d sit on the rags that served as his bed in the dim light of the brothel’s store room, tracing the fine dalish stitching on the back, the seams running along the fingers, the one frayed edge along the left ring finger; daydreaming about one day wearing those for real, when his hands would be big enough.

When he found himself taken out of the brothel, spending his nights with a dozen other kids just as confused as him, he began sleeping with the gloves under his head. His handler called it pride into something he’d never had and never would have, something egotistical and useless to his purpose. The words were too big for Zevran, and the concepts even more so, and he didn’t fight when the gloves were taken away from him.

Keep reading