Cenn_icon.gif Davan_icon.gif

Scene Title An Open Invitation
Synopsis Cenn visits Davan to decline an invitation
Location Quaint Manor
Date August 15 9:31 Dragon
Watch For Misunderstandings of intent
Logger Davan

Davan is usually up at around midmorning. That's early for him. That this is shortly after means he's just finished dressing for the day and is answering the summons to come greet a visitor without shoes. Try not to faint. Once he spots that visitor, his frown of concentration becomes a grin. "Well well, come in. I'm surprised you were kept waiting out here where it's… not cold for you at all, never mind. It's at least uncomfortable. I promise there's no fire going yet." He reaches out a hand to indicate Cenn follow him into the sitting room. "They didn't keep you long, did they?"

Cenn is distinctly not in any of the Order's issue. Not quite as formal as when he'd come for dinner, but not unkempt. When Davan first arrived, he'd been fidgeting somewhat uncomfortably, but when the other man arrives, he relaxes considerably. Though, it's not the same easy grace as when Davan had invited him in the first time. His smile is a little more stiff, it looks like perhaps the last few days have been rough on his sleep. "Not cold in the slightest." Cenn says with a small laugh, and follows with a shake of his head, "No, not long, but I am patient."

Davan spends his time putting on the appearance of someone who cares little about anything beyond themselves, but that front crumbles when presented with all of those outward signs. "Come sit," he directs as they enter the room and he guides the Templar to one of the couches. "Tell me what it is? Because I have a terrible time when something's going on and I don't know what it is. I'll worry and then I'll wrinkle. Think about that and have mercy."

Well, he at least has the courtesy to sit when bid. However, he does shake his head. "It is nothing." Cenn says, not that it sounds believable at all. "And it's not why I've come to see you." A small smile is offered then, "So please, don't fret over it, I would hate to be cause of any unwanted change to your loveliness." Look, he may not be in the best place, but he can still manage being charming.

"Charmer," Davan accuses before reaching out to place a hand on Cenn's cheek. "Alright, I won't press. I'll fret, but you can't stop that. It's what I do, but it's something. You're not a very good liar, at least not without enough sleep." So he's going to settle on a brief kiss- this time without all of the asking for permission nonsense- and then sitting back. "Tell me this is to discuss my invitation?"

It's terrible and selfish, the fact that Cenn moves into that touch to his cheek like it is a balm to a burn. His eyes close for a moment, and the Templar takes a deep breath and for half a moment he is not here or now, but he pushes the thought away quickly. "I'm a fucking terrible liar." He says then, with a laugh, opening his eyes, "And you're right, but now isn't the time." And when Davan leans in to kiss him, Cenn does not protest, but returns it with softness, his hand coming to rest just above Davan's hip. He nods then. "It is." He says, "I am sad to say I have to decline." His tone takes a quiet, apologetic cant, "If I am… Caught seeing you, honestly, Davan, I could lose my commission. And that doesn't mean I want to stop but something as public as the market is a risk I'm not ready for."

Davan puts on a half smile. "We wouldn't want that," he assures. "And how long until they catch you coming here, yes?" He nods and it seems to settle the matter for him as if he were merely getting information he'd been expecting. "I do have to give you credit for coming here yourself. At home it's merely assumed to be general knowledge." The words lack the bite that probably should be present, and it might be telling that they don't.

"That is easier to have ignored." Cenn says, shaking his head, "It isn't public, the general population won't whisper. I don't wear the Order's issue here, and people do not think to notice." Then, though, he looks confused. His brow knits, he cants his head. "What is assumed to be general knowledge, exactly?"

"You'd be surprised at what is noticed around here. We visiting Tevine have the means to make the chantry look the other way, but our neighbors…" Davan shakes his head and is clearly confused by Cenn's confusion. "That we simply wouldn't see eachother again as more than social acquaintances. Cenn, are you absolutely certain you're Orlesian? You're certainly not Tevine, you haven't the fangs for it. …and for pity's sake, don't look like that."

"It isn't that people won't hear." Cenn says with a shake of his head, "It's that we're expected to be discrete about our bending the rules." And then he blinks. "Oh, no, that's not… I didn't mean to say…" The Templar sighs, shakes his head. "Look like what, exactly? And yes, I am quite su-" Cenn groans, and then takes on a very different tone, more firm. "No. Actually. Fuck it… Actually, I am half Tevinter." Because just… Well, after the past few days he's had, Cenn's amount of care is just… Shredded.

Well, there's a lot for Davan to take in and he starts with what's important. "That confused head tipping thing you do. It's far too endearing. And what did you mean to say, then? Because I've never been required to be discrete, just not too overt and definitely alright with being alone." Then there's the rest and he's obviously uncertain as to whether or not it's time to pull out the defense of flippant jokes. "Odd, you don't smell of blood and oppression. Well, it still doesn't make my point either way."

Cenn sighs. "I just can't go out in public, in the day, milling about talking to stall vendors. I still… You're… I…" Cenn stops himself, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You know what? Forget it. Just…" Cenn stands then, "And no, I don't. Never been to Tevinter. It's just where my father is from, whomever he is." And then he's moving to leave, because this all just got well and away from him. "It's been…" He pauses for a moment, trying to think of a word that is fitting, and one doesn't come.

Davan stands as well, taking hold of Cenn's arm. "That I can understand, but…" Look, he's a confused mage and that's not something he's used to. "You still what? Take a deep breath, Cenn. Tell me. You're father's Tevine… It'll be horribly awkward if it's someone whose bed I've been in," is said as a humored aside. "Why don't we just settle on you telling me what you want. If it's to walk away, I… well, I won't like it, but it's not something I'm unused to."

As Davan takes hold of his arm, Cenn turns to look at him, and even laughs at that joke. "Honestly, I can't ease your mind on that front. I don't know who he is. Just that he is a Magister, and that my mother very much wanted him to never hear of my existence." Not that a Magister, realistically, would probably want admit to anyone that they had a non-Mage child in the South who went off to become a Southern Templar of all things. But that was precisely his mother's goal. "Want? Oh, Davan," Cenn shakes his head, his laughter turning ugly, "None of this is about… Well other than… I wish it was as simple as pure want. But no, I don't want to walk away. But I can't put words in the right order, and this is all a huge risk, and a knot of…" But there's that hand on his arm still, and Cenn has a track record of being really bad at self control with this guy, "Ah, to the Void with it." And then his arm wraps around Davan's waist quite suddenly, pulling him nearer and leaning to kiss him.

Davan might have been startled by the arm about his waist but not so much that he's going to push away. His hand reach up so that his fingers run into Cenn's hair, urging him in for that kiss that he's not willing to relent on until he has to. "Then fuck the risk. Come here when you can," he offers, keeping his voice low. "For as long as you can." Which is as risky an offer for his own reasons, and Cenn can answer once he's done kissing him again.

There is no rush on Cenn's behalf to have that kiss end. Purring at Davan's hand in his hair, the Templar is smiling faintly when the break away. It only grows as Davan speaks, and then his lips are caught again. More important business for his mouth, and he is tender and warm, tasting like wine and lyrium and a mixture of herbal tea, sweet and heady. And when eventually they do part, Cenn can't bring himself to move any farther away than he must to speak. "Know that I only avoid what I must to make the time that I can come here longer." He says quietly, and it is familiar on his lips and for a moment his heart aches, but he doesn't let that linger.

Davan nods, finally hinting at a smile. "I'm going to shop for you. You know this, yes?" Not that he's waiting on answers, kissing the Templar again both to keep him from being able to process and.. well, he wasn't lying when he said the man tasted like candy. "Don't wait for invitations," he finally instructs. "Liddy will let you in and tell you where I am. …and Cenn? I have a bath you could spend hours in." He runs his fingers through Cenn's hair again and finally smiles. "If you're willing to take the risk."

"You are welcome to do that all you like." Cenn says with a small laugh and a grin, caught again by a kiss and not complaining in the slightest. "Oh, you'll never be rid of me if you tell me that…" He says then, but he doesn't seem to actually be trying to dissaude him, "And with a bath as well? That's it… I'll go resign right now." He's joking, it's obvious in his tone, and the laughter that follows.

Davan chuckles and it ends with a contented sigh. "Never be rid of you? What a prospect," he teases. "Oh if it only took a soft bed, a washing room, and a soaking pool to keep you I'd already have you. I know what you do is important to you." He rests his forehead against Cenn's shoulder and sighs. "Maker, you're making me exercise patience. Do you realize what a miracle that is? …or torture. It's one of those. can you stay for a while?"

"I can." Cenn says fondly. "Honestly, I wish it could be that simple. I should like to leave, if I am honest." There's some bitterness there, but it's faint on comparison to the amount that he's relaxing rather quickly. His hand lifts to Davan's hair softly, his other arm still around the mage's waist.

Davan turns to kiss along Cenn's neck. "Good," he informs before making a play of biting him. "Come with me." It's a request and he'll wait for a confirmation. "And if you want to leave… you know I can get lyrium, I hope." It's merely an offer and he's not waiting for it to be accepted. "I may even give you enough time for that bath."

Cenn outright moans at that bite. "Yes, Serah." He quips, only half kidding. He'll follow, and at that offer he blinks. "I… That is generous of you, but no. That would be the sort of mess that would not be easily cleaned up." He says, "I'll make do with the sneaking away to things worth being distracted from a bath for."

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