[ 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

[dalishious]

[ The gentle touch brings Merrick out a little more, and he exhales sharply before throwing his arms around Zevran. As usual, he doesn't hug so much as cling, as if he'll fall and shatter his spine if he lets go. ]

[ombranera]

We live.

[ He murmurs, rubbing a hand against Merrick's shoulders. ]

I am not going anywhere, Gazza.

[dalishious]

[ Merrick allows himself to be comforted for a moment. His breath is ragged, shuddering against Zevran's hair as his hands cling to him. When he pulls back, his expression is full of murderous resolve. ]

I'm going to complete my training, and then I'll kill everyone who tries to hurt you.

[ombranera]

You'll be fighting most of Thedas at that rate.

[ Zevran attempts a smile, something slim and wry. ]

Crows have no choice. You do as you are told or you die. They were doing as they were told. Holding it against them or taking it personally is a waste of effort better spent elsewhere.

[dalishious]

[ His hands hold Zevran's shoulders, his expression raw and beseeching. ]

Tell me what happened. Bell told me some of it, but-- Tell me everything. I need to know.

[ombranera]

They took me, I was rescued. What more do you need to know?

[ Not even Alistair knew the full of what had been done. Sherlock, The Iron Bull- they knew for they could understand to some degree or another or needed to know to avoid his questioning reality. ]

It will not help you to hear what happened. I tell you and you hold my wounds to your own skin as though that will lessen pain that has come and gone.

[dalishious]

You think I can't handle it?

[ombranera]

I think I do not wish to discuss it. Even less so if it will only cause you to blame yourself more than you already do.

[dalishious]

...Fine.

[ He leads Zevran to sit, and puts an arm around him. ]

You know, my first master wasn't nearly as big a pain in the ass as you are.

[ombranera]

Your first master did not quite know how to teach you to throw a knife properly either, measuring us against one another is not entirely fair.

[ Especially since Dalish Hunters did not often need to throw daggers, nor use poisons. ]