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]

"Then it is high time you experience it for yourself, yes?" He spreads his hands, looking as innocent as is possible for him. Which- isn't terribly, to be honest. "I would be pleased to introduce you to it."

[mythalenaste]

That's when she starts suspecting the moves. And she freezes. She's not opposed to...intimacy, but thinking about it and doing it are different things. She's only ever been with Gavin, and she's not convinced she was all that great with him. Something made him leave her, maybe multiple somethings. Was she terrible in bed?

Another thought occurs to her. If this man is putting the moves on her, it's probably not because he thinks she's pretty. More likely, she's something warm he can burrow into. She presses her lips together.

"Another time, perhaps."

[ombranera]

Now there's a look. One with a story behind it- usually he says something just on this side of obscene before he gets such a look- and he had not meant to startle or upset her. Pressing seems impolitic and she seems-

Well.

What enjoyment there might have been has been halfed at least.

"I apologize if I have offended. It was not my intent, truly."

[mythalenaste]

Now she looks a little flustered. She has probably overreacted, but it's safer to do that than to let her guard down. But, she wonders, if her interest is in the physical, why does she expect differently of him? Because, no matter what, sleeping with a man and then seeing him act like nothing happened is going to make her think of Gavin, and it will hurt. Not because Zevran hurt her, but because Gavin did.

There. The demon has a name.

"No, I really did mean it. Another time." She forces herself to smile a little. "I'm a little tired and melancholy today."

[ombranera]

"Perhaps a bit of advice and a gift, then." He reaches into his pack and removes what seems to be a small vial of oil, colored much like honey. "On such days where I find myself tired or melancholy, I find the nearest hotspring to soak. There are, or so I have been told, such springs below the hold available for our use. It is no Antivan bathhouse but- I think it may do you some good, yes?"

He offers the vial.

"For your hair. A few drops on a comb in the morning and- well the scent is comforting to me. Something of my mother who was Dalish." He could not quite remember the elven name for the flower- but it had grown often in a window box in the brothel where he'd lived, brought over by his mother. Even here he'd managed to find them, small, bright blossoms among the moss.

[mythalenaste]

She is deeply moved, and takes the vial, uncorking it and taking a deep breath. Spring. Not the early bit that's almost still winter, but when periwinkle and honeysuckle are everywhere and you can't see your feet for the flowers that thicken the forest floor.

What a gift. Perhaps city folk give gifts to strangers. A gift between two people among the Dalish is an extremely intimate thing, even more so than sex in some clans. Possessions are harder to come by and transport than one's own body, anyway.

Almost unthinking, she touches her hair.

"It's...magnificent, but it's almost a waste. My hair won't shine for anything." Not really true, but shine is harder to discern on such pale hair.

[ombranera]

"Trust me, Bella. It will make your hair glow like starlight." He'd known what he was doing with the gift. Dalish put such great importance on it and while it's a card he would have not played with any of them as a rule due to the sentiment placed on the action, she seemed in need of it. Some tender attention. If not his hands, perhaps a gift. Something of him and the one thread they have in common besides their race to think on fondly- for spring would be long coming to Skyhold.

Wearing a little of it would make the coming winter more bearable. "It is a special blend, that. You'll not find it's like outside of Antiva City."

[mythalenaste]

"Then I'll only use a little, and return it to you after."

She can't outright refuse it without being incredibly rude, and truth be told, a scented oil just for beauty is too extravagant a luxury for her to want to pass up. Just a little, and she can come to him feeling pretty, not worried about chapped hands and rough feet and too many freckles. Maybe she could lie with a stranger, if she felt pretty like that.

[ombranera]

"As you wish." He smiles, softer than his usual. Kinder. It seems as though she needs a little kindness in her life. "I am happy to be of service."

[mythalenaste]

Kindness, yes, soaked up like a sponge, and she thirsts for it still.

She leans up to give him a peck on the cheek.

"Thank you. I have to return to work. I'll see you soon."

[ombranera]

He rests a hand against his chest, swooning slightly. "I look forward to it- should you have need of me I'll likely be in the tavern, yes? Awaiting your return."