“Lasa em vhellal Falon’din sael.” Ophelia whispers the words against his neck and across his face, as if trying to tattoo it into Zevran’s skin. There is no hesitation in her voice and Zevran does not doubt that Ophelia means it with every fiber of her being. For all she feels as if she is invincible, there is one thing that Ophelia could never abide to lose. To be that thing is both exhilarating and terrifying.
"I’m begging you, Zevran,” Ophelia says, and what she means is 'when the day comes, may you bury me, for I cannot bury you'.
Zevran kisses her then, trying to wash down Ophelia’s words, but even silenced, Zevran can taste them on his lover’s tongue and they are barbed and bright as they settle inside him. There is an unusual frenzy in Ophelia’s movements tonight and Zevran can’t help but wonder if she knows something; if that demon has at last shown Ophelia more than she wanted to know. When Ophelia moves with him, the familiar motions are insistent and fierce. There is no brutality in this coupling, but something unspoken and looming and devastating hangs between them, punctuated by each desperate grip at his skin. Ophelia moves as if each time they come together will be their very last.
"I’m begging you." Ophelia whispers again, and Zevran wraps his arm around Ophelia, drawing her closer and chants “I will, I will, I will” into her ear. Because even though they are both lost, wandering in the howling darkness, Zevran can think of no greater horror than to leave Ophelia there alone by herself.