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

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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

"Honestly? Over the past decade I've been more discriminating in accepting my targets. With the Crows it was the masters that would point and we would kill, no questions asked. Do as your are told no matter who it is you turn your blade against. Even if it was one of our own." Behind his smile there was a flicker of something old. Something pained before he blinked it away. "Small moves can mean for a larger fallout, I learned that some time ago. I make certain that whoever I kill? Has earned it. And when the time comes the kill is quick and clean. Assassination is a hunt like any other."

"That's good to hear, Zevran." It wasn't like she would have hated him if he hadn't said such a thing, but having that confirmation that he was more discerning was welcome news.

"It sounds like a hard life. You had no choice back then?"

"No Crow does. You do as you are told and have been raised to think it right." But this was drifting into heavier territory that he wasn't quite comfortable slipping into. "Now I think I promised you a lesson, yes?"

Ellana was learning plenty about the world already. Back in the clan, she could only do what she was told too, not wanting to upset their Keeper by running off like Gavin always did. But Zevran and his fellow Crows sounded far, far worse off. She at least had never had to worry that the clan would turn on her.

"You did. Should we go outside? I wouldn't want to subject anyone in the tavern to my practicing."

"By this time of day they are either too tired or too drunk to care. Besides, I shall be teaching you- and if you are skilled in basketweaving? You've the deftness of fingers to pick it up quickly." He set his drink aside to pull his lute from his back, offering it over. "You saw how I held it earlier, yes?"

"Oh, you shouldn't ever mistake me for being skilled at anything," she joked, taking the instrument from his hand. "I did." Her hand wrapped around the neck while the other rested flat against the front.

"What's the first step?"

"I have attempted to weave baskets myself- it is no easy task and you lack the welts and scars of one that has not handled the wicker well. I think you will be able to manage. So!" He claps his hands, moving around to sit next to her rather than across. "On the neck you hold her gently, fingers resting at the first fret like so."

Gently he puts his hand over hers, moving it up and positioning her fingers.

She'd never thought of it that way, assuming that her weaving was decent at best. Perhaps she'd inherited her mother's ability there.

"This is the fret?" she asked, letting him move her.

"The small line of wood there, under the string? That is the fret. You press down here-" He does so over her hand, pressing the strings in turn. "And that is the first chord. You strum with your nails on the belly, like so."

He demonstrates a simple strum, the chord quiet in the otherwise loud tavern.

Her lips twitch with a smile, enjoying the sound.

"Seems simple enough. How many chords are there?"

"There are quite a few- more than I could teach you in one sitting- but for now I shall show you three and that should be enough for a simple song, yes?" Baby steps. Walking before crawling and all that.

"Oh, yes, I should think so." Keeping her fingers on the chord, she strummed the strings once to get a feel for it and how it sounded.

"And if you wish for individual notes, you pick- thusly." He reaches around with his other arm to cradle the hand of hers on the belly of the lute, picking three notes slowly with his nails. "You see?"

Well, wasn't this a cozy position to be in? Ellana was quite all right with having such a charming fellow so close to her.

"Mmm," she hummed, copying his movements. "So this is a note, and this up here is a chord."

Incredibly cozy, in fact. "Yes, you've got the gist of it. The second chord is here-"

Deft and delicate he slid his hand along with hers to the next fret, pressing the appropriate fingers in place. "And you have the next."

"All right," she said, moving to strum her hand against the strings. She smiled and turned her head to look back at him.

"This is easier than I pictured. Or perhaps you're just a very good teacher."

"I am an excellent teacher- and you a quick study." He grinned, eyes catching hers. So clear, so green, so openly bright, add a layer of sultry intent behind and it made something in his chest twist. Not the same at all, Ellana kinder, more curious, less cautious but the little things- the curve of her jaw, the sweetness of her smile-

He tamped it all down and leaned in just a little bit closer. Half embracing her as he was, it wouldn't take much to close the distance- but that he left to her discretion.

She really shouldn't, because this wasn't why she was here. She wanted to do something to put the world back to right. But, she reasoned, what was a person to do in their down time while they waited for the call to arms? Especially her, who had longed for the chance to go out into the world and finally had done it.

As casually as she could, she leaned back into him, humming at his words.

"Confident and kind. I do believe you're the perfect teacher. Now, let me see if I remember the first chord." Ellana moved her fingers back and strummed, then repositioned to the second chord and strummed again. She heard the difference in the notes and smiled. "I like this."

"Ahh, you see? You will master this soon enough. Now you can change chords on the same fret, the further up you are? The lower the tone. The closer to the belly? The higher." He picked a thin line down one string, a sliding scale higher and higher as he trailed his their hands from the neck to the belly of the lute. It was a simple trick, but one that put their hands together, that let him rest his chin over her shoulder to see.

Also it offered a lovely view of her bosom, but for once he was rather taken by the curve where her jaw met her throat.

Oh, she knew what he was doing. Her lips curled up in a smile, but she kept her eyes focused on the music.

"This seems simple enough. To play a tune, I just have to memorize the positions in order."

"If I teach you one more chord, we will have the backbone of a simple Antivan melody." He slides their hands into the right position on the neck and gives the lute another strum. "Right here. Strum twice, back to the first on the top fret and then to the second chord."

"Strum twice," she repeated, doing as instructed. Then she moved her hand back, but fumbled for a moment to get her fingers into the right spot. Biting her lip, she continued once she thought she had it and when she was done, tilted her head towards him for his thoughts.

"Very good! You remembered." This close it'd be but a trifle to brush his lips against her cheek. The simplest thing in the world. And yet he held his reservations- that closeness would be hers to choose. "We repeat that pattern and you have learned the beginning of an old Antivan love song."

"Oh, a love song. I like that it's one of those." Her attention returned to the instrument and she repeated the chords before she started to hum them on the third go round.

"Hmm, hmm, mmm. Hmm, hmm, mmm." Satisfied that she had it, she looked back to him. "Will you sing the words while I play?"

"I shall indeed." Low and warm and easy, his voice carved out a private place for the two of them.

"Se vai
si prenderà il mio cuore
e io senza di te
Non so dove andare

Se vai
il dolore mi mangerà
un giorno
non posso vivere senza di te,"

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