But I would walk 500 miles, and I would walk 500 more!

[ombranera]

WHO: Zevran and any on the road!
WHAT: Walking, drinking, dancing, dirty songs and poetry while hiking to Skyhold. Perhaps a stop in a tavern or two along the way.
WHEN: The course of several days on the road.
WHERE: The Road to Skyhold, Skyhold itself
NOTES: Zev is a walking content warning coarse language, innuendo, drinking

Strange how after a solid year of hiking over hill and dale, through Imperial Highways and muddy side tracks he'd sworn to never do so again no matter the company or the cause. And yet here was Zevran yet again on foot (an elf with a horse attracted too much attention in the area) walking the long way to Skyhold with the odd thumb out for any passing caravan- provided they were not bandits. Company he did not mind. Burglary? Less so. From what little he'd heard of the events at Haven and his concern for a country that had been, for all to brief a time, a home of sorts, Zevran made his merry way along the road to this fortress rumored to be the best option for a strategic regroup. Perhaps he would meet someone familiar, perhaps he might offer his services.

The options were many. As were the songs that he would use to amuse himself, strumming a worn, well sanded lute while he walked. Now and then snatches of Antivan would curl through the air, lilting and easy and- to anyone that understood? Absolutely filthy.

"Le mie gambe sono avvolte intorno a voi collo,
Il tuo cazzo nella mia strada, spinte e agitare!
Ero a letto , ma ora sono in questo petto .
Cosa stai mi dà grande piacere!"

So on and so forth from one tavern to the next on the long trek, if coaxed and if it would see him fed or paid, he would play a few of the softer, more romantic tunes he knew. But for the most part? Smut. Quite a bit of smut. It wasn't as though anyone truly understood him all that often.

His actual arrival was a little less Merry, he had to give one thing to wandering bandits. When they coordinate well enough for a solid ambush and attack en masse? It wasn't the simplest fight to handle alone. Escaping unscathed wasn't entirely possible but he had managed to find a group of either merchants or refugees or a mix of both, he wasn't all that certain, to walk with for the last streatch. One even deigned to allow him to ride the last leg in- provided he rode on the back of the cart and entertained them. As such Zevran's arrival was marked with his voice crackling out past laughter.

"'But yes, she asks, what is the difference?' and I tell her-

'The difference is in where you put the cucumber.'"

Comments

[ombranera]

"Keeping a crew fed, paid, and well drunk does take quite a bit of coin." He tipped his head to the bench next to him, inviting her to sit. "I needed a bit of a buffer between myself and the Crows."

[easternseaqueen]

She sighed dramatically.
"You have no idea," she said, but then quirked a smile.

"In trouble again, are we? Glad to know some things don't change," she said.

[ombranera]

"I may or may not have killed a few grandmasters and they may or may not be quite cross with me." But it was worth it. Every dead master wouldn't make up for his life, for Rinna's, for the children yet purchased to fuel the machine that was the Crows- but it certainly made him feel better about the whole business. "But I do not think they would risk chasing me here. They've their own concerns in Antiva."

[easternseaqueen]

"Oh, is that all?" Isabela laughed. Oh, sure, she knew plenty well the actual gravity of the situation. Contact with Zevran and her late husband's "associates" had taught her that much. But seriousness was never in fashion between her and Zevran.

"I suppose I can say the same of certain Raiders."

[ombranera]

"And we shall benefit from their caution, yes?" Having Isabella made this a little more familiar, a little more bearable. A reliably unreliable woman would make him feel better about the potential end of the world. "No word of your Hawke? I would have thought this to be right up her alley."

[easternseaqueen]

"It's like the saying goes, if you can't find a way to profit during war, you're doing something wrong."

At the mention of Hawke, she shrugged.
"No, not since Kirkwall. At least, not directly. But then, we've all got our secrets and agenda, don't we?"

[ombranera]

"True enough." And this may yet prove to be profitable. "That is half the fun, the agendas and secrets. Keeping them, selling them, using them. A group called the Inquisition must be lousy with secrets."

[easternseaqueen]

"Or extremely good at finding them. How many people do you suppose would pay through the nose to see those secrets kept quiet?" She grinned.

[ombranera]

"More than enough to get a proper bathouse built near the hotsprings, I should think." He shifted to a slightly different tune, a little saucier. "Eight tubs they have in all Skyhold, Isabella. Eight. It makes me sad enough to cry."

[easternseaqueen]

"If you cry, it had better not be on me. I'll never be able to wash it out. Unless we steal a tub or two. Or start sharing."

[ombranera]

"But I wish to rest my head on your bosom." The saddest face ever, Isabella. Endure it.

[easternseaqueen]

Yeah, that face isn't fooling her, Zev. But she laughs it off.

"Do you now? Well, I suppose I can allow it this time. But if you get me all wet, we'll both need a washing."

[ombranera]

"Is that a promise?" Permission granted he does lean over to rest his cheek on her shoulder/bosom. A bit of both. Less invasive than full bosom leaning and more friendly besides. "It is going to be frigid here soon enough and they do not even have a complete roof. I am going to die, Isabella. I will freeze to death in this place."

[easternseaqueen]

"Oh, poor sweet thing," she coos and wraps an arm around his head, rather smushing him into said bosom.

"You know, the cold has never agreed with me much either. Fortunately, I've got some good Antivan brandy. What do you say we use it as a warm-up and keep the chill off each other?"

[ombranera]

Mmmm. Bosom smooshing. He takes a moment to enjoy the contact, the warmth and scent of the sea and spice that always tends to cling to Isabella before offering his answer. Speaking might mean moving and moving might mean losing this.

Or getting more of it. The balance is a delicate one. "I knew you were my favorite for a reason."

[easternseaqueen]

"Flatterer," she laughs. "Not that I've ever minded."

She idly runs fingers through his hair. Elves had pretty hair, too, really. So much fun to play with.

"You're making me want to continue this catching up somewhere more comfortable."

[ombranera]

Oh that is lovely. A warm body and hands running through his hair, perhaps grasping, twisting, guiding- his mind is lost to more carnal thoughts before the suggestion is made.

"My dear Isabella, I could not agree more."

[easternseaqueen]

"Then what do you say we go inside? Have you picked out a room yet?" she purrs.

[ombranera]

"With a door and everything, yes." Privacy is somewhat vital for an assassin. Sure, the floor has a hole in it and there are damp patches with rotted wood, but it is as good a place as any for him to stay.

[easternseaqueen]

"How very luxurious," she laughs. "Still, we've both stayed in worse places. And fucked in worse still."