faderift | [ CLOSED ] Midnight Rendezvous

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[ CLOSED ] Midnight Rendezvous

WHO: Zevran Arainai, Michel de Chevin
WHAT: Discussing that Delivery
WHEN: Shortly after this conversation
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: Swearing, discussing of murder and gold, emotions.

It'd been heated, their last conversation. Zevran had settled somewhat after Michel confessed and fled- then Luciano and everything that came with suddenly being a parent. Then a stab of visceral fear that is so new to him and all the more terrifying for it. He had not reacted, probably, in the best way. But they are overdue a conversation, he and Michel.

Far overdue.

It is late and Luciano is sleeping peacefully next to Dogrhen, perhaps a little more Fereldan than Zevran would like but- it is so amusing an image he cannot help but let the pup persist.

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The temptation to invite him in would be overwhelming were it not for his exhaustion and Luciano. Then again he never would have called the man back without the child, never would have reconciled with him- perhaps it was for the best. In the future they might...try. On more even ground. When they were certain of one another.

When Zevran could be kind and treat Michel's heart gently. Now, however, was not that time.

"I have seen you fight, it is nothing to sneeze at." It was something to marvel at, honestly. "We would be glad to have you."

Michel did not have the ability to see that far ahead and the experience had taught him an invaluable lesson about such matters. What they could have done and wanted to do was somewhere else now and he saw little point in looking back for it. If he could make amends, however, that was something.

"Yes, I did want to train with you...beyond the trap making, of course, but the opportunity never presented itself," not in such a bustling place as the Inquisition, "I'm no assassin of course, but I am a glorified body guard, so perhaps that could be of some value."

One that doesn't rest often either could be made use of.

"You have more than a few techniques that would be invaluable- as we are trying to do things a little differently in the Kestrels. Being able to work with and around others that are not assassins is but one thing I hope to teach them." Working as team to a soul purpose- to remove the competition and power games from within- that would change so much.

"...If I did not have a sleeping child and an overly needy dog taking up half the bed, I would invite you in to rest. You look as though you need it, Michel. Are you not taking care of yourself in the Desert?"

"I...suppose that's true," he made it all the way to the side of the Empress, but he was generally low key about his skills. He could fight using three different methods, he wasn't limited to one hand, even though his right often dominated. There were things that were of value that he knew, that he'd been taught.

"I do not require much rest, so you needn't bother with me on that," though he did think about the desert, the Western Approach, "the Approach is a learning experience...it's not my frozen Emprise, but I've been there a few time. I'm surviving, that is taking care of ones self, yes?"

Finding shade, drinking water, the usual outdoor survival routine? Yes, he's taking care of himself. Not pampering himself, but it's easy enough to fall back into the old quick scrubbing habits.

"I do not need much rest, he says, looking half dead on his feet." Zevran said, looking three quarters dead on his own. Needy infants, they do not make for restful slumber. "You are being very human and stoic about this, you know- it is not terribly attractive."

Is it too soon to tease about such things? There's no lilt, no leer- he hasn't the energy for it. But a lopsided smile, a cant to his head that is all him under everything else. That is honest. "The beard, now. That could grow in quite well. Make you very distinguished."

As though he needs such things. "Be careful though, yes? I have heard there are darkspawn about. They are not so easily slain."

"Ah, but I am nothing compared to you. When was the last time you got a full night's rest?" Michel could actually remember infants, they could suck the life energy right out of you, especially if you were but a child yourself. A great deal of work they lay on your shoulders, "I'm not sure if there is another way to be. Instinct would have you carted off and tucked into bed already."

Michel finds the laughter in his voice somewhere, but it is brief and very much as though he'd spent his time swallowing the sand in the Approach. "Ah...well...the sandstorms can be very bracing...a beard helps protect the mouth from unwanted debris somewhat...that was the idea anyway."

More for function less for distinction, at least that was the plan, and thinking about it causes him to rub his face a bit conscious of it now. More than he had been, "I've had training in Grey Warden tactics, though I suppose avoiding the ichor is the best plan of action. Taint is the last thing I need."

"The day before I was given care of my son." Quite a while, then. Not that he was about to elaborate thusly. "I- ah. That is terribly sweet."

He shouldn't be blushing. He shouldn't be rubbing the back of his neck and coughing like Alistair and yet, here he was. Doing just that. This would be embarrassing if he could not laugh it off. "The Ichor and the Emissaries, yes. If you see one of them, and you shall know them for their feathered headdresses, kill them first. They cause far more trouble if left unattended."

"See, you are, by far, more exhausted than I," Michel didn't need to have the diagram drawn, he could guess the approximate time, "you can see the alternative to not being stoic and human...but I can sympathize."

It takes a great deal more effort not to respond to Zevran's sheepish reactions, but he does give his hand a squeeze. It was a first, actually, Michel had never really seen Zevran quite like this and trying not to think about that took a lot of will power, "spell casters of the Darkspawn...said to be somewhat more intelligent. Do they usually reveal themselves outside of a Blight? Regardless...I'll keep that in mind, you never know."

"I do not know- I would have joined the Inquisition there but-" He tipped his head back to the door and the sleeping babe beyond. Sudden changes in priorities. Changes he had not yet informed many people of just yet.

"They also like to swarm once the scout is felled. The Alphas you will know for how large they are, they tend to use warhammers or battle axes." Anything more, well, he had likely heard from the Grey Wardens.

"Does he favor you- ah...no, you don't have to answer that," it was momentary curiosity on Michel's part, "it's easy to see how you were side tracked."

"I...haven't really had the opportunity to come across them in the desert yet, but that should prove useful. A giant on the other hand...apparently I'm not the only one who enjoys a good oasis."

"Ah-" But Michel took it back and spared Zevran having to sort out how to best answer. It wasn't something he'd thought much about. The child was a child? And his. "Giants are actually quite fun if you have a ledge, some rope, and a grappling hook."

Michel knew he didn't look much like his mother, because his father had been human, but he did have her sunny hair and wintery eyes. Perhaps that's why she chose to keep him? Michel didn't know, keeping him had not benefitted her in any way...but that was his own pain.

For the time being he raised an eyebrow at Zevran, "you have fun with the giants? Like wrangling chickens fun?"

"Like swinging from chandeliers fun. You hook them about one of their tusks and leap from the ledge, making certain to swing around them rather than at them- on your way down? You entangle them in the rope! It is marvelous fun and looks quite impressive if I do say so myself." And he's done it many a time.

"You swing from many chandeliers in your spare time?" Leave it to Michel to focus less on the Giant and more on Zevran's hobbies. Michel could say he's never swung from a chandelier, he doubted one could hold him properly without crashing to the ground.

Shaking his head slowly he brought himself back to that oasis, "somehow the giants there seen more aggressive than the ones in Emprise du Lion, they jump a lot further too, but I suspect that's because there's less risk in it."

"Well- no. But if the situation calls for it?" Why not have fun with the job now and then. It was an efficient path if not a subtle one, but by the time an assassin was considering 'should I leap from the balcony or use the chandelier' usually stealth was no longer quite so vital a thing. There was some comfort in being infamous, even if it had bought him no end of trouble with the Crows.

He could not say one way or the other if it'd been worth it. The odd twinge from his new scars and constant reminder with the milky eye made gauging it difficult. But he came away alive and that...that was worth something. "Perhaps it is because they are more hot under the collar yes?"

Ah, puns. Would they ever get old?

"It sounds like something I've read in books, but I've never actually scene in action," Chevalier were known for acrobatics during a fight and Michel has been known to balance on benches and less when in a one on one duel. Gaspard nearly killed him in one infamous battle. So perhaps he shouldn't be quite so surprised by it.

His thoughts were distracted by Zevran's pun, however, and he laughed, but from him it was less pleasant and more unusual. Like something he hadn't used in quite some time, a return to certain serious Chevalier habits perhaps, "ah...that one was bad, even for you."

"I am not in top form, alas." Sleeping poorly as the child was sleeping poorly, sleeping poorly due to every shift and sneeze and whimper waking him up at night, at his dreams of raising a ruin, of getting his son killed, of selling him to the Crows just to be rid of him-

Many fears kept Zevran awake. Most of them tied to the infant, but not in the way most might think. "As it is- I ought to return. Lucci is liable to wake at any moment and the Dog can keep him calm only for so long."

"Not your fault...I can imagine. It's been a while, but I still remember babies," though what that meant, Michel didn't elaborate on it, he wasn't all that fond of thinking about things so far back. Less and less as time went on.

"Apologies, monsieur, I have kept you longer than intended," a quick exchange had been his only expectation tonight and with that he hoisted the trunk. He did not know how much time he had before daylight, but he could cover a great deal of ground between now and first light if he got started. As he mentioned, rest was an unnecessary thing, "I do have one thing I would like to ask of you, if you do not mind."

"You may ask but I may or may not be able to manage it." The child takes up most of his time, now, and that will continue to be so until he's able to find someone that can mind him while he works. Which is a balancing of time he had never truly expected to need to find. "But I shall try."

"It shouldn't require you to lift a finger, monsieur," Michel pulled the hood back over his eyes and hoisted the trunk back up under his arms. Even with this he could still make it out without looking conspicuous, "just that I wasn't here."

"Ah, that manner of favor. Of course." None shall hear it from him that Michel came, that they spoke. He can manage that much. "Ride safely, yes?"

"Ride?" Michel was hooded so Zevran couldn't see him, but he looked momentarily confused, but...ah, he didn't know, "I walked, for the most part, from the Emprise. I came in with some refugees."

It wouldn't be quite as easy getting out while shouldering this, but he wasn't going to risk a horse. Too conspicuous, especially since his could have been recognized. It naturally raised the question as to how he intended to sneak back out again, things were too quiet, there wasn't as much movement as their had been earlier in the day when he'd arrived. Was he really going to carry that trunk with him?

"...You walked." That- why would he do something like that? People rode in often enough for it to go without question, he could have left his horse at a camp in the valley and walked the mountain up-

"...I do not know if this makes you some manner of fool or disturbingly determined." Michel was going to carry that chest all the way back to Emprise. Maker's breath.

"I suppose the simple explanation is that I already pushed Charlemagne from the Approach to the Emprise. He deserved a break and I have two perfectly good legs," that and Michel was going for as discreet as he possibly could. His horse was recognizable and...he had no intention of leaving him alone for very specific reasons, "and since you called for me I did not want you to wait. It would have taken me out of the way a few days...and, honestly, I can cover just as much ground on foot if I break sparingly."

"If you fall and break your neck you will be helping no one." Was that concern? That was concern. Friendly concern. Exhausted, friendly concern and- this was simpler when they spend most of their time in bed. There were fewer questions about sentiment- they could feel how they felt and act on it without having to discuss such things. "...Walk with care, then. And do let me know when you arrive safely in the Western Approach, yes?"

He will worry.

That was damning enough, that he would worry.

[ CLOSED ] Midnight Rendezvous

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