[ OPEN ] Tonight I'm gonna have myself a real good time

[ombranera]

WHO: Zevran and YOU
WHAT: Zevran's Birthday and Ardent Blossom Contest
WHEN: Forward dated to Guardian 5
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: Shenanigans connected to this announcement

Someone had been a sneaky little shit, preying on Zevran's lack of familiarity with traditions and dates and the weight people tend to put on something so mundane as a 'birthday'. Someone (Alistair) had spread word and made a thing of it, despite Zevran not seeing the point nor truly wishing to cause a fuss. He had, however, decided to take a day for himself to do nothing. No fuss, no stress, no real work. A day to indulge in a few of his many hobbies. He did not know what one did on their birthday normally but here he was, sitting in the Courtyard with one of his found spoils on his head, awaiting those that paid mind to his earlier announcement. When he wasn't idly sketching whoever he saw in the courtyard he was in the Herald's rest, enjoying a quiet drink and making notes on the better stories or songs he has heard throughout the day.

Comments

[ombranera]

So many continue to say that to him- perhaps one day he might believe it. For now he huffed a soft laugh and finished the sketch with a flourish, Simon bent over a mortar and pestle, grinding out a poultice, hair a little mussed and eyes focused, but tired. "My reasons are hardly noble but, I appreciate the sentiment."

[noleechesneeded]

"How bad could they be?" Simon asked, still watching the drawing finish. A familiar pose for him...which would explain how Zevran was able to pull it from memory. The mage leaned back, wondering if that was meant to be another, gentler hint. "Surely it's not all part of an elaborate seduction..."

Because Zevran was a flirt, but that wasn't all there was. He'd proved that with River already. Whatever his motives were for doing good things, they couldn't touch the bad things Simon had done for good reasons.

[ombranera]

"Normally one frowns on killing for spite or profit." And here he was, having made a living with both. He finished the last shade of Simon's smile and turned the page to him, brow quirked. "An elaborate seduction for you would include a lavish dinner, a long massage, perhaps a soak and steam in the hotsprings, and notes of poetry left in your things each morning for the better part of a month."

[noleechesneeded]

"That all sounds...I'd like that. Maybe when things are closer to normal," Simon mused, shifting to get a better look at the finished sketch. Did he just agree to let Zevran seduce him at some point in the future? Apparently. It was just flirting, right? Zevran insisted there was no harm in it, that it was only casual. Simon chose to keep believing it.

"But if it isn't that, and you're not being paid to keep my sister company," Simon went on. "Then I still have to say you're not as bad as you say."

Which brought him to the package still in his lap. Simon's lips thinned between his teeth before he offered it at last over the cloth covered gift. A new whetstone to keep his daggers sharp and a hefty bottle of oil to keep his leathers soft and quiet. Considering Simon's gift was meant to help Zevran kill, it was clear he didn't exactly frown on it.

"...this isn't payment, by the way," he sad as he offered it. "I heard it was your birthday. So..."

[ombranera]

"Simon- a word from the wise, yes? There is never going to be 'closer to normal'. The world reels between one crisis and another and shall continue to do so as long as there are people with more power than good sense." Be they human, mage, ancient old god living in a dragon or otherwise. It simply was the way of things.

And still.

He was not so bad, he saw something in River that reminded him of himself- telling Simon that much felt impolitic and thus was avoided. But the gift- he knew the difference now. "...You know- When Jonas first gave me a pair of Dalish gloves- I did not understand what it was to be given a gift. He'd slipped me bars of gold or silver on the road- payment. But the gloves...they weren't currency. I would like to think now I am better able to tell the difference between the two."

Zevran accepted the package delicately, unwrapping it with a soft smile.

[noleechesneeded]

It was nice to wish for normal, but deep down Simon did know better. Perhaps that was why his gift for Zevran was so viscerally practical. The whetstone and leather oil weren't nice things. They were meant to keep the assassin safe in a world where he very likely would have to kill again. The mage twisted his smile, tilting his head to concede the point. Hopefully actually saying out loud that things would be normal someday hadn't cursed them all to an imminent catastrophe. Or at least not another one.

As for the line between gifts and payments, Simon still remembered with embarrassment their first meeting, where he'd found a way to imply that he wanted to pay Zevran for his company. He'd made a few missteps back then, including not recognizing the Antivan elven assassin as that Antivan elven assassin. The one who had accompanied the Hero of Ferelden some ten years ago. He might have made a deal of it if he'd realized it back then, but now it didn't seem relevant...until Zevran brought it up of course.

"Well...good," Simon said, hoping he still came off as playful. "So long as that's clear. It might not be as fancy as something from the Hero of Ferelden, but I hope you like it all the same."