RP: Alistair

[zevranfadewalk]

Zevran literally walked out the door of the palace and into Skyhold.

He froze, immediately on high alert, then quickly melted into the shadows--after snagging the book that had tumbled to his feet. Finding a high, quiet place where he could watch the hall without being seen, Zevran had spent hours listening in to conversations and flipping through the strange journal.

Not-the-Fade, eluvians, people from different worlds and versions of reality, no escape. All trapped together like bears in a circus. All right, he could deal with that.

Eventually he began scouting the castle, hiding in alcoves and eavesdropping as a matter of course. Entertaining himself as well as gathering the information he'd need to finally announce his presence. It was the sound of a familiar voice that had him hesitating as he crept along a beam high in the rafters, however. He waited, utterly still, and watched as a vaguely familiar man, an unfamiliar woman, and...ah yes...Alistair passed. Beginning to grin to himself, Zevran followed a safe distance behind and waited patiently for Alistair to move off on his own. The bar was there beneath him, practically calling the man's name. It was only a matter of time.

Once Alistair finally appeared, Zevran waited just long enough to be certain the man and woman weren't on his heels. Then he swung down on whisper-light feet, dropping onto the bar just far enough away to avoid getting beer splashed on his nice new boots. "And I thought to myself," Zevran said, starting the conversation mid-thought the way he sometimes did, "where would my friend go to try to sort out his own head? And so, here you are and here am I."

Comments

[zevranfadewalk]

It amused him when Alistair moved away. It also, conversely, made him feel shockingly warm inside that it took so long for him to do it.

True pleasure came in the little things with this one.

"Ah, my friend, as much as I appreciate your willingness to lie for me," that was not an exaggeration, "I meant that I will be sneaky. All you need do is get hold of his inventory and adjust the records accordingly. I will pilfer what I need. Though far be it from me to keep you from outing yourself as the world's second-deadliest assassin."

[exiledalistair]

Given what Alistair knew about Cullen, he wasn't entirely sure there wasn't a decapitation in his future if he was caught. But it didn't occur to him to hesitate before agreeing with a ready nod. Keeping Zevran's secret, keeping Zevran secret, seemed smart, all things considered.

It didn't hurt that it was Zevran's plan. He drummed his fingers on the bar top, a single pass, before he reached to take the bottle to pour himself another measure. His head was swimming slightly, finally, the color rising in his cheeks not a blush or a flush (well maybe a touch, just a touch because of the hand that had been on his shoulder, but probably definitely not) from anything other than wine.

"I would be an extremely deadly assassin, I'll have you know. Death would walk in my shadow." The corner of his mouth lifted in a wry smile.

[zevranfadewalk]

"Would you kill with giant wheels of cheese?" Zevran mused. "I am fascinated. Tell me more of your mite."

[exiledalistair]

Alistair pursed his lips, eyes squinching slightly in consideration. "Cheese, smoked hams, enormous mince pies. Anything can be a deadly weapon on a big enough scale. Impaled on a giant spicy sausage, terrible way to die."

This was easier. Normal. Alistair sipped his wine, pretended the warmth came from it.

[zevranfadewalk]

"Hmm. I will admit, I have put much thought into my death," Zevran said, finally settling into a stool next to Alistair's. His feet swung, not quite hitting the run. Even for an elf, he was small. "My method of choice would not be a giant spicy sausage...orrrr," he added, waggling his brows playfully, "not a literal sausage, if you take my meaning."

[exiledalistair]

Whether influenced by the wine, the quip, or the eyebrow waggle, Alistair finds himself stifling a snort of laughter, looking a little horrified at the same time. The wine flush deepened on his cheeks. "Alright, I'll bite, err, no, not--" He sighed, wincing. "Not like that, and no sausages, literal or... whatever."

He half turned toward Zevran, quirking an eyebrow, but his mouth more serious. "What sort of death would be your choice?" He's thought rather too much about his own since he was spared the whole head-on-a-pike business. It usually involves ditches.

[zevranfadewalk]

He opened his mouth to make a terrible joke about biting and 'sausages'...then sighed at Alistair's question.

Well. Now that was actually serious.

"There is a gulf between what I wish and what I think may be true," Zevran said with uncharacteristic solemnity. He rested his head on his fist, watching Alistair with serious copper-brown eyes. "I wish for a bed somewhere in Antiva. The windows are open and the curtain is blowing with each breeze. I can hear the life of the city outside--music, laughter, fighting, haggling. I have no wish to join them, however. My pillow is soft and my lover is near, tracing fingertips across my stomach until our hands link. I can smell spice and good leather and the first chill of death, and I think--not bad for an elf born to a whore and sold like bread to feed the Crows, eh?"

Then he winked. "But shh, tell no one or they will think I have somehow become romantic in my age."

[exiledalistair]

Alistair's eyes met Zevran's steadily, and it was easy to see the solemnity there, the way he swallowed hard once. It was such a full, rich, good image.

The wink broke the spell and he blinked in time with it, before smiling lopsidedly down at the bar. "I'll tell anyone who asks there's nothing but bad jokes and dirty limericks and murder under that armor." The second lie he'd agreed to tell for him tonight.

[zevranfadewalk]

Zevran laughed heartily at that, lifting his glass in a toast to Alistair. "Thank you, my friend. And in return for that kindness, I will do what is in my power to make certain that whatever end you someday meet, it will never be alone or unmourned."

[exiledalistair]

"Honestly more than I'd come to expect." Alistair wrinkled his nose at his own bitterness, smile becoming even more sardonic as he echoed the raised glass. "But also good to know that you'll be hanging around to mourn me, and I'll be dead and on fire because I bumbled into an exploding bear trap full of poisonous snakes you failed to warn me about."

[zevranfadewalk]

"Oh, are we wandering into bear territory then?" he teased. "This is good to know. I would hate to be eaten--that would be a waste of a perfectly good elf, no?"

[exiledalistair]

"It isn't as if we're wandering anywhere at the moment and even if there were bears it isn't my fault you're definitely tastier than me." Alistair blinked as the words just tumbled right out of his mouth, a fresh flush on his cheeks.

[zevranfadewalk]

Zevran beamed, dark eyes flashing. "You wish to taste me be sure?" he asked, voice dropping a register. Two. "You know I would never begrudge you a little...nibble."

He tipped back his chin, deliberately letting golden hair sweep back to reveal the unbroken line of his neck.

Then he waggled his eyebrows.

[exiledalistair]

"You-- you know that's not what I meant and I think I've decided maybe I hate you." Alistair's eyes didn't seem to hate him though, lingering just a beat too long on the bronze skin, the line of his jaw. He cleared his throat and picked up his wine, forcing his eyes down as he drank.

[zevranfadewalk]

"You hate me now, and you will be thinking fond thoughts of me anon," Zevran laughed. "It is the way of our dance, no? Built on so much trust and shared experience and shifting emotion. But ah, that is to be expected. We come from very different worlds."

He leaned close, quite suddenly, there before Alistair could register the movement. "But if you tire of these shifts, you could take me to your bed and figure out what all that hate really is," he teased, breath hot in Alistair's ear.

...then he darted away before Alistair could backhand him.

[exiledalistair]

Alistair wouldn't backhand him, though the elf might warrant a reasonable throttle now and again. He licked his lips as Zevran's breath was hot on his ear and then the elf darted away, all laughter and light, empty flirtation.

He scrubbed a hand hard through his hair, mouth twisted into a sour sort of smile. Take Zevran to bed? To be laughed at? His mind skipped away from the very idea, focusing on the fact Zev was teasing him. Possibly even pitying Elissa's poor, besotted, heartbroken castoff.

"But hating you keeps me so warm at night. It really is my absolute favorite." Another lie, this one told for Alistair's own benefit, maybe.

[zevranfadewalk]

"Oh, is that the thought that keeps you warm at night?"

Zevran couldn't help himself. He really, really could not.

[exiledalistair]

"Only when there isn't enough ale around to do the job." Alistair was far from his most charming when petulant, but earnestness hadn't gotten him very far in the past. He finished the wine he'd poured himself and then slid off the stool to hunt around for another bottle or cask of something palatable. Somewhere in the course of this conversation he'd decided that drunker was definitely better.

[zevranfadewalk]

Zevran opened his mouth with some clever volley or another--then went still, head tilting. "Someone is coming," he said. "Take care, my friend. I will be nearby."

And he disappeared--almost literally in front of Alistair's eyes.

(OOC: I figured this would be a good place to end!)

[exiledalistair]

That left Alistair feeling colder than he'd admit, even to himself, Zevran gone as if he'd never been there. He frowned at the far corner, the shadows above him, and sighed. "Don't do anything too crazy," he said to the air, and then ducked his head back to the ale he was pouring.

(OOC: Yep yep! Sounds good. Onward to knew scenes/plots/shenanigans!)

[zevranfadewalk]

(OOC: Onward to creepy elf assassins in your rafters, watching you sleep.)