Life in Camp Shady Fuckers

[unbrokenoath]

WHO: Everyone living in or visiting the Warden camp
WHAT: Just some low-key action-spammy stuff for a bunch of sketchy losers who got tossed into the camp for sketchy losers. And the people who come to hang out because sketchy losers are the coolest losers.
WHEN: Vaguely stretching around Cloudreach?? Nothing is set in stone, time is an illusion
WHERE: Camp Shady Fuckers The Warden camp
NOTES: Just throw whatever warnings necessary in the heads of your threads

Just throw opens or whatever up this is a low-key general mingly kinda thing for hanging out and shouting at each other. Feel free to interrupt other threads or whatever and idk man this is basically like a network post but in real life.

Comments

[ombranera]

Did you encourage this?

[ He will have words with her one way or the other, but how many words he needs to have- that depends on Alistair's answer. ]

[byblow]

I didn't know until after she'd done it. [ He does put him down now—a little further from the tent than necessary, but holding someone who's irritated with him and has jabby joints at their disposal is a bit less appealing. ] Why, is he actually worried?

[ombranera]

He is worried about our association turning out poorly for me. There may also have been the incident at the soiree that has him concerned but- I do not need people making my choices for me.

[ He says, slipping down, while asking Alistair to help him make this one vital choice for him. ]

[byblow]

I don't think he should take the fact that you have people who care so much about you that there are elves willing to get a chevalier alone at all, let alone to threaten one, as a reason to worry about you.

[ Anyway. ]

She said he said it wasn't any of her business. He's fine. [ Unfortunately. ]

[ombranera]

No, he takes Beleth's warning as proof that what we share is dangerous for me, or that it might bring me to harm. She had no right to make such a statement- let along asking him about family lines and nobility as though I do not know what it is I am doing.

And he is right. It isn't.

[byblow]

Great. [ Alistair opens the tent flap and stands aside for Zevran. ] We can all leave you to it, then.

[ombranera]

Somehow I doubt it will be so simple as that.

[ He mutters, slipping into the tent, dusting the snow from his shoulders. ]

When will it be my turn to look at those you take to bed and pick at them?

[byblow]

[ Alistair smiles a little and claps Zevran on the back on his way past him, beginning the process of stripping down to trousers. ]

When I'm less tired, less hungry, and have fewer gods whispering to me all the time. Maybe. It had been a while before all of this anyway.

[ Maybe he'll be celibate forever. The Chantry would be proud. ]

Don't be too hard on Beleth. She cares about you.

[ombranera]

I am not used to having to worry about such things from more than you.

[ Not that Alistair had been his only friend but...Alistair had been his only friend for so long, having more is strange. How does he handle this?

The question, and his boots, are set aside as he strips down to one of Alistair's shirts (still stolen, still warm), trousers, and woolen socks. It is too cold to sleep in as little as he would in Antiva. ]

There is Beleth- everyone that came to see when I was recovering- did you know that Pel did magic for me? She gave me a ring that will cause roots to rise up in a certain spot of the garden and give me somewhere private and safe that no one else can get into without my permission when I wear it.

[byblow]

Do the roots spell out LEAVE ME ALONE ALISTAIR?

[ He's joking. Sort of. She did seem worried about Alistair smothering Zevran well before Alistair was willing to listen to anyone about it—because Zevran isn't his only friend either but, also, is sort of his only friend. ]

You're great, Zev, and now you're stuck in one place long enough for people to notice. [ He puts his shirt, wet from melted, on one of the cots (there are two in the tent, both shoved against the canvas walls and unused, with a pile of blankets and pillows on the ground hiding old-fashioned bed rolls; the cots were a nice gesture, but they remind him of the Templar barracks) and nudges Zevran with an elbow. ] You're doomed.

[ombranera]

Maybe.

[ Joking back just as much as he burrows into the pile of blankets, trying to find the most comfortable place to curl before Alistair settles in. Zevran holds an arm out and waits for him to flop down and sprawl. ]

She asked me a month or so before she gave me the ring if I felt safe in Skyhold. [ He didn't, and she might not have fixed that but- she gave him something. ] Keeper magic, the bending of trees- it is sacred to the Dalish. Bethany knit the Kestrels scarves and blankets to help them keep warm in exchange for actual food. I am teaching Fenris to read. Is this what it was like for you, in the wardens, for those six months before they were taken from you? This...

[ He gestures beyond the tent, confused but- touched. ]

Camaraderie. All the time.

[byblow]

[ He flops, he sprawls, he pulls blankets and furs up to his nose. (He does have limits, with the weather. It's officially Cold.) And when he's settled he nods—ten, eleven years, and there's still a little bit of a lump in his throat. But he talks around it just fine. ]

Yes. I mean, no one knit me anything, but they liked me well enough.

[ombranera]

Of course they did. You were adorable.

[ Zevran squirms and burrows until he's under the same blankets and furs, tucked against Alistair's side as comfortably as he might have been in their room. All that is missing is Doghren nestled in the mess somewhere. ]

When we first met- well, after the ambush, that was my first thought. "Here now Zevran", I said to myself "This Warden is adorable."

[byblow]

I've always said.

[ He bends his arm up to rest his hand on Zevran's head—because he didn't think Zevran was adorable, he thought he was going to poison their food, and he still feels bad about it. He doesn't apologize; he has before, and he also feels bad about other things, more recently, equally relevantly, half the reason for the circles under his eyes. Why he's handling this all more poorly than most. ]

They're dying. All of them. If they aren't already dead. [ And here he is again, lighting a beacon, only the moment where Loghain's forces were poised on the edges has stretched into months. ] And we're doing it to ourselves. No one's going to understand.

[ombranera]

[ Guilt for old thoughts helps no one- but he cannot say that for he does not know it. A great many things is Zevran but mind reader? Is not one of them. He contents himself with the warmth of Alistair's hand and the comfort of his heartbeat. Steady and strong. Still here for at least one night more. ]

...all of them? [ He tips his head up to peer at the underside of Alistair's jaw, frowning into the darkness. ] What of those in Antiva or the Anderfels?

[byblow]

All of the ones I know, [ he amends, tugging on Zevran's hair in revenge for the pedantry, ] and who give a damn about the south, and who we could have—

[ Saved, maybe, if they'd stayed instead of running. But he's already been through that Gauntlet, and he doesn't need Zev to tell him things he can tell himself (and not believe either way), so he sighs and briefly squeezes Zevran by the head. ]

You're sure I can't convince you to join, if we have to start over again?

[ A joke. A weak one. If Zevran ever really wanted to, Alistair would try to talk him out of it, and doubly so now. ]

[ombranera]

We will save those we can.

[ Again, to lose those bonds he'd built up, to lose his brothers when he'd lived and fought at their sides for a decade- to have it be some manner of betrayal not quite so keen as Loghain's but that it is happening at all? He hadn't asked. He'd been too relieved to have Alistair back and...learning more would make Alistair speak of it.

'We're doing it to ourselves' could mean so many terrible things, if the Wardens thought they were all going to die. If they thought it was the only way to save the world from future blights. ]

I wouldn't be a mascot if I was a warden. Besides- I look terrible in blue.

[byblow]

[ Alistair nods, exhales; nothing is fine, on the grand scale, but on the smaller personal one that measures his likelihood of having an actual break instead of only standing alone in the snow for a few hours, he's all right. He smiles. ]

Don't be silly. We'd obviously change the colors for you.

[ombranera]

Can you imagine the Wardens in red and gold?

[ It is a tense joke- he has not seen Alistair this bad in years and even then? There was an Archdemon he knew he must kill and knew with certainty would end the problem. Now? Things are not so certain. He shifts enough to prop himself up on an elbow, leveling Alistair with a look. ]

Do you need me to talk to help you sleep?

[byblow]

Eugh. Never mind.

[ That would be a no. And he smiles wider in response to the look and the question, if only to prove he can. ]

Is that your way of telling me to shut up? We're friends, Zev, you can just say it.

[ombranera]

No, this is me asking if...there is something I can do to help.

[ He reaches up to drag his nails through Alistair's hair, brow furrowed. ]

I cannot hear this thing that haunts you, but I know it is there every hour of every day. You are not well rested, you are not- you are not yourself. I do not expect you to be but if I can do something to make this easier? I would do it.

[byblow]

I know you would.

[ He props up, too, but only long enough to flop in the other direction and semi-tackle Zevran back down and—not smother him, entirely, but maybe a little. It takes some shifting and squirming to get resettled, belly down with an arm around his waist. ]

Tell me more about your perfect woman or man so I know what to keep an eye out for.

[ombranera]

Cucciolo.

[ Zevran does not squeak, but he does laugh. This is what he'd missed alone in his room. The casual closeness, the playful wrestling without intent. He goes as he's pinned and shifts until they're covered and tangled thoroughly, cheek still propped up on his hand. ]

Gorgeous, of course. I like my women to be soft and full figured, my men to be tall and broad and well muscled, they must have a sense of humor and an appreciation if not strict adherence to Antivan romantic ideals. Flowers, dinner, passion, dancing, the music- they must at least endure with good grace my appreciation for leather. They must not begrudge me this, what we share.

[byblow]

[ Alistair shuts his eyes and takes mental notes. Maybe they're to the tune of the song, but at least that will make it easier to remember. At the end he huffs a laugh, though. ] You might have to be willing to compromise on that. Just a little.

[ombranera]

Why?

[ They are not fucking, why would they take issue with his relationship with Alistair? ]