[ OPEN ] Well I can't stand to be with myself, this liberation's seemingly rare

[ombranera]

WHO: Zevran and Various
WHAT: Zevran sparring and dealing
WHEN: Throughout Drakonis
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: Violence, swearing, usual Zevran Content Warnings Apply. Open prompt below, poke me on plurk for a closed starter. Prose or actionspam welcome!

As much as he'd protested Alistair running off on some mission in the west- the time apart gives him that much more chance to train. He'd been doing so privately in the barn, occasionally squaring off against Settimo when they both had the time and patience for Settimo's paranoia and Zevran's over-adjustments for the blind side. Learning to fight with only one good eye is slowly driving Zevran to frustration. Settimo could not come at him hard enough to be a challenge, he could not learn his new limitations without a solid effort on both their parts.

Setting aside his vanity he takes to the training grounds- but working on stuffed dummies is only good for so much. Soon enough he is picking out soldiers and rogues to come at him in the dirt circle. Day to day it goes much the same. Zevran stands with bad eye covered and his swords, with his hands, with a single short sword and calls any that would step up to help him regain his awareness. It is, to be honest, slow going. More often than not if his opponent has any manner of skill he ends up on his ass. But he grits his teeth, stands, and goes at it again. And again. Afterward he recovers with the highlight of his training- a bucket of water to sluice off the sweat and grit of the day. Whether it's the relief the cold brings or the appreciative looks it tends to earn? He doesn't say. But thus he spends his days, training himself or wrestling with the fledglings, who will offer their own commentary and catcalling in Antivan during his other matches.

Comments

[ombranera]

"That is a new song." Zevran murmurs as he settles next to her, less the wounded something recovered from that room and it's hook and far, far more himself. He leans into her just a little, just enough for her to know that he feels settled, feels safe, that he is sold and real and not about to slip away. Alistair had needed that reassurance keenly. It wouldn't surprise him if others did as well. "Learning to climb with the one eye is a struggle, but I will get the hang of it in time."

He might need to use a rope for awhile but he will get it.

"What was it you were singing? It was lovely."

[foxsays]

With care she sets the lute down, up and behind them both so she's less likely to knock or damage it. She would be utterly mortified were she to have to tell Leliana she had done such a thing when she had been up on the roof with her and Beleth, all three with lutes by their sides. A gentle hand finds his, squeezing tight. An anchor. "If you wish a companion, I am glad to assist. For you I won't mind an interruption from lessons."

It's almost on her tongue to say helper but she changes her mind at the last second. Zevran's been doing this longer than she has, she won't be insulting.

"Maid on the Shore. It's an old, old song from home, one of the most popular songs, y'know, the sort that you sing a dozen times most nights?" She ducks her head, the smile shy because the lute is still so new to her. "I always thought the maid was so smart and so daring, my father sang it to me so many times no one had a right to be surprised I turned out as I did."

[ombranera]

"Someone to point and laugh when I slip and twist my ankle would be more than welcome." Mockery was ever a fine technique for training a man's pride up when he laid it low. It might even give Araceli something to laugh about- she seems a bit somber which will never do. It takes little to lean into her side, cheek tipped against her shoulder. Warm from the sun and warm simply from being alive? It soothes him.

"Most of the songs in the brothel were of lovers, dashing men and their dainty women- or handsome princes with their devoted knights. I had never thought much of knights and pages- but lovers? Mmm."

[foxsays]

“I wouldn’t laugh at that, and you’ll still be better than most of the Inquisition scouts that are starting out,” she points out because with them it’s honestly sliding into embarrassing when she watches them fumbling. They live up a mountain and yet scaling a wall and falling from not that great a height causes so much handwringing a person would be forgiven for thinking she’d asked them to set themselves on fire. “I might force you to go up the wrong side by the rookery where the birds come out though.”

She trusts that he'd still be fast enough and that he won't have lost his instincts either. She finds his hand to squeeze, running her thumb over the back of his knuckles, gripping tight for a moment like an anchor. Ridiculous that she can feel so adrift when she's on solid ground but there are times when you don't bother fighting the tide because all it'll do is pull you under when you can't keep your head above the water.

"We’ve never had knights, not where I come from; can you imagine trying to fit a horse along a bridge that’s rope and planks, easily moved? We have a lot of songs about waiting for someone to return to port again, bold privateers and such, the sort of song that brings a tear to the eye - sometimes a man or a woman needs that, needs to let it go when there are arms to hold them. Bawdy things happen in the taverns, the songs are more...intense in a brothel."

[ombranera]

"Now that is too cruel by far, mia Bella. Have you ever tried to get the stink of bird out of good leather?" It waters the eyes, the leavings, and it stains. No matter how well one scrapes or how quickly one cleans, it stains. There is no recourse but to dye the leather afterward and that is an ordeal in and of itself without irregularities in the tone. But still, to jest is to jest. He turns his hand over in hers, squeezing it tight.

He is here, she is here, the sky is not full of demons, the air not full of ghosts. Not today. Small victories. Small things.

"I was wondering after that- you said you were not familiar with horses and I forgot, for a moment, you were not of here to be familiar with them. Knights do not need horses but it does make for a better image than a man in full plate running about like a fool." Like Alistair. "Mmmm. We should share those songs some day. I know quite a few."

[foxsays]

"I live on islands surrounded by the sea, every bird that can fly and dive for fish nests on our of islands at least once a year, or stops on their migrations to everywhere else. Sometimes when you're trying to get in or out of a house without the guards or a nobleman seeing you, you must suffer certain indignities." Worse is trying to get it out of silk, something she's cautioned the other guards about because she's not going to be the one to go off to the royal tailor to apologise.

"Rajani, one of the other guards, she rides all the time. Or she did, her horse sounded flightier than the ones we rode, for bursts of speed and fast turns on desert sands and dusty plains. She had a book that was just paintings and drawings of horses, a few figurines she had sent for, but Skyhold was the first time I ever saw one in the flesh. We don't even have full plate or much armour beyond a bit of leather and some padding. Our shields are small, to be worn on one arm so we can move easily, blades for poking and delicate fighting." Castileans are speed and grace in a fight - though a brawl is an ugly thing and a battle at sea vicious but she sees no reason to speak of pistols and things so much louder and more painful than arrows, not tonight.

"Maybe when I get better at this thing, hopefully I'll have enough time to practice before I need to perform for anyone so I don't look like an idiot."

[ombranera]

"With little land there is little ore, better spent in other areas aside from encasing a man from steel where he could trip off a bridge and sink to his death, yes?" He's done that with bodies before, dumped them armor and all into rivers, lakes, and the harbor. It hid them long enough for suspicion to quiet down, the matter to be settled. Then a head is found bobbing along and 'oh it is so and so, the crows must have gotten him'.

Ah. The simpler days of assassinations on a smaller scale. Sometimes he misses them- the certainty, the clarity.

This is...different but no less worthwhile. "Are you unaccustomed to the strings or the singing and the strumming at the same time?"

[foxsays]

"Ore comes from a neighbouring country, bound to Leandra by marriage, same as almost every gem. The salt would damage it too, leather and fabric are more easily washed and mended, cheaper too compared to that. We'd rather put the money into our blades and pistols, into the things that need it." Oh Zevran don't tell her that, it's hideously wasteful. Steal it, hide it, find a fence who knows a man who knows a woman who knows a smith and get it melted down or sold, make a pretty penny in it. Do you know how much she made stealing only one breastplate and gauntlets?

A lavish sum, she'd eaten well from that job.

"No it's...it's just being alone to do it. To know that I am the only one who knows these songs. Our taverns are loud and spill out onto the street, no one minds if you stop to listen beneath their window or by the dock if they're the ones watching the ship." It feels foolish now she says it and she ducks her head, brushing her fingers lightly over the strings though they never manage quite the same tone as she's used to either.

A distraction is needed and she gives him a nudge before she starts plucking out a quiet tune. "How have you and your new charges been? I had no wish to overwhelm you after returning to Skyhold, so popular are you, with those who have known you longer and better."

[ombranera]

"Well...perhaps we might do something about this, yes? It is not the same as having a whole country know the tales you attempt to tell. But if you will share your songs with me; I will share mine with you. Bring a little more of our homes to this cold mountain fortress." Learning new songs- that always keeps his mind from the darkest corners on his rough days. Something to focus on, to practice, to mind. Offering the same in return only feels fair.

For him, Antiva is not so impossible a thing to retain. For Araceli?

Maker only knows when it is she will see her home again.

[foxsays]

Zevran's going to make her cry and if she wasn't worried about him being up on the roof again after what he went through she'd punch him in the arm. Instead she laughs, swallowing the horrible knot in her throat as she does so. "I'd like that, but you'll regret it; captain's daughter, he used to scoop me up when I was little and carry me around singing. Learning some interesting songs would be wonderful, the Orlesian ones are…"

The face she makes likely describes just what she thinks of most of what she's making herself study, and Ferelden songs are dull and have enough dogs that she has a few small concerns regarding their love of them.

"And you have plenty of helpers that can teach me too, but it can be a secret. So people are jealous." Or more so people won't hear her when she forgets she has to play the accompaniment and starts strumming the tune instead.

[ombranera]

"Fussy? Particular? Overwrought? Boring?" Zevran rattles off his opinion of most Orlesian music while leering at his nails, giving Araceli a moment of supposed privacy. He knows the thickness of a voice tilted to sorrow well enough.

"Mmm. This is true. Between you, I, and the fledglings we have hands enough for a proper band." A solid Antivan ensemble for the dancing if they so choose.

[foxsays]

"That one about the Empress, I'd sing about Leandra if she wanted songs sung about her but that…that's something else." That song is a load of rubbish, it's not how you're meant to sing about the figurehead of your nation and it doesn't actually sound any better in Orlesian either. None of the songs do but that one is particularly special, all things considered.

"Think they can win everyone over with it?" She's teasing, there were strong opinions that day. "Sirens where I come from lure a person with the most beautiful voice before they drown them but well, they are always very happy to go with them."

Because you know, going back to the sea as a beautiful woman kisses you and steals the breath from your lungs, hashtag Castilean romance.

[ombranera]

"More that I am hoping they might find joy in it enough to forget why they learned in the first place. Musicians are more or less invisible to most Antivan households. It is a good in for any Assassin." Teaching them life, to love it, to live it? Is no easy thing- especially when there are days Zevran himself cannot recall much the hows and why of his own education.

"Ah, so you have such tales as well? The sailors of Antiva speak of such creatures- I do not know if there is any truth to them. We have dragons, so, why not?"