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

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.'"

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Find us somewhere nice and quiet, Gavin, and I promise I will have you singing so sweetly you shall astound even yourself." And perhaps half the camp if he used a few of his tricks.

It had been a while since he'd been propositioned so forwardly, despite his endless flirting. But the truth was he was more than happy to take him up on the offer.

(Yet another escape route from dealing with reality as it stood.)

He chuckled, clearing his throat as he brought his ale up to his lips and took a sip.

"That's quite a promise," He replied, his voice low. "And it just so happens, I might know of a place that fits those exact qualifications..."

"Then whatever are we waiting for? Unless you wish another song?" Something dripping with innuendo- he may even manage one in the trader's tongue if Gavin so desired. However the chance for a quiet moment with someone after a long time spent alone on the road? Was not something he intended to pass up, nor to rush.

The world may be falling down around their ears, but there was always time to handle things properly.

"I could listen to you sing all night," He said, quite honestly, smiling. "But I thought maybe we could finish our drinks, at least." The light hearted teasing had returned to his voice, though he had to shift where he sat, trying not to let the anticipation be quite that obvious.

"I can be fairly patient... I find it makes the end all the sweeter."

"As you wish." Said with a smile just on this side of sultry. The sexy side of sultry. Zevran took another long drink of his ale, once again tilting his head and neck to offer the most appealing view. He knew full well what it was he did and felt absolutely no shame whatsoever.

"There is something to be said for working on a particular piece for hours before finishing it to your satisfaction." If they were to continue the music metaphor.

Gavin was many things, but intentionally sexy wasn't exactly one of them - he tended to come off better when he wasn't actually thinking about it, but he was now. He was thinking about it quite deeply, now. He thought about absolutely anything he could do that would match the display he was witnessing - that sublime throat, the way those fingers caressed the lute. He shifted, somewhat awkwardly, pulling his ale toward him and letting his fingers drift across the glass somewhat aimlessly. His best assets were very much under his clothing - that was where all his compliments came from. But you couldn't exactly show off that in a crowded bar, could you?

So he simply fidgeted.

"You can't have a real climax to a piece unless you've given it a long enough crescendo," he said, which was literally the entirety of his music knowledge and he wasn't even sure that it made sense, but thought it got his point across. (If Crescendo meant what he hoped it meant.)

He took another long sip.

"The real question is where one prefers to play, I suppose," He wondered, falsely casual. "In the tight dark or with the sun on your skin..."

"A few extra verses with sufficient vigor never hurt anyone." The question of what was sufficient he would leave up to Gavin. As with most things he left the boundaries up to the other party- his own limitations were quite few and it was easier to follow where he was led than to attempt to impose his own suggestions for the first roll around.

It was, after all, only considerate to do so.

"In the sun after all. It is difficult to see what you are doing in the dark at times- better to have the full glory of the song for both parties to enjoy."

Gavin laughed, downing the rest of his ale. He'd tried to play it cool. He really had. "I'm afraid I'm sorely lacking in musical metaphors," he admitted with a grin.

"But I do have a nice sunny little corner in mind for a private concert, if you think you've had your fill."

There was no shame in admitting defeat- Zevran was trained for this after all. The match had never been entirely fair. "And you did well all the same. Brava."

He lifted his glass to Gavin with a wry salute before downing the last, licking the foam from his lips. "Do lead on, my friend, and I shall gladly follow."

Gavin grinned, rising from his chair with all the gracefulness of an ostrich, before motioning for Zevran to follow him from the Tavern. The truth was, sun wasn't difficult to come by, and neither were empty rooms - following along one wall, the castle crumbled more as it went along. Ceilings and walls sturdy enough not to feel dangerous, but with enough crumble to let the light in. It wasn't hard to find a room that had one wall entirely open to the outside, but that outside happened to be nothing but open sky and far off mountains. He closed the door behind them and then turned to grin at Zevran.

"So, are you going to play me another song?" He teased, "Or did you have something else in mind?"

(ooc: continued here)

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

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