Fadewalk

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."