On the shore of Lake Calenhad, Alistair threw himself down in front of the campfire and glared at the Circle Tower across the water. “You would think,” he grumbled, “that if you were about to be locked in with a gaggle of magical abominations, the person you would want in at your side would be the templar.”
“Well you did make things very awkward when you told her you were a prince. After you’d already kissed her.” Leliana gave him a pointed look, and Alistair blushed and looked down. “You know how Kallian hates nobles.”
Zevran crouched beside him. “It seems you have joined the ranks of disused party members, my friend,” he said, clapping a hand to his shoulder. “Our Warden has not taken either of us anywhere since she learned to pick locks herself.”
At this Leliana nodded glumly. Alistair picked up a stick and stirred the flames. “So what do we do now?”
Zevran shrugged. “We wait.”
Leliana leaned back and her hand bumped into a satchel. She looked down and let out an excited yelp. She shifted, and then sat up, lifting two bottles out of the pack. Her green eyes gleamed. “Who wants some refreshments?”
Alistair squirmed. “We shouldn’t...”
“Oh, come now,” Zevran said. “It is Oghren’s loss for leaving it behind, he should know better.” He produced a galss and pushed it into Alistair’s hand. “And what else are we going to do?”
“I suppose...” Alistair agreed. He was very bored, and the dwarf probably would not even notice. He began to drink.
After a little while a boat crossed the water and Morrigan stepped out. “She found a mage she liked better,” the witch explained bitterly. She crossed her arms under her breasts and scowled at the others. “Are you drinking?”
“We are!” Leliana said, and she handed Morrigan a glass. “To rejection!”
“‘Tis an odd toast,” she said, but she began to drink also.
Zevran pulled a coin out of his pocket and let it trip over his fingers. “Would anyone like to play a game of cards?” he asked. “A betting game, perhaps.”
“That might be fun,” Leliana mused.
Morrigan shrugged and leaned forward, but Alistair grimaced. “I don’t have any money.”
Zevran pulled a deck of cards out of his pack and grinned mischievously. “We could play for other things,” he suggested, and Leliana snorted a laugh. Morrigan rolled her eyes over her drink but did not protest.
“Uh, what?”
“He means your clothes,” Morrigan said. She looked at him and lifted her chin. “Of course if you are scared, you might refuse.”
Alistair looked at Leliana, who was also watching him expectantly. Zevran shuffled the cards and waited. Alistair took a long pull of his drink and his cheeks glowed a little; he was not very good with peer pressure. “Maybe just one hand...”
Leliana looked at Zevran and her lips curved into a smile. She lifted her glass to her lips.
The elf began to deal.
-o-
When Kallian returned four hours later, exhausted and covered in gore, she found Morrigan and Leliana rosy cheeked and giggling drunk, and Alistair unconscious and stripped to his smalls. For his part, Zevran was entirely sober and fully dressed, and she cocked an eyebrow at him.
“Well you did make things very awkward when you told her you were a prince. After you’d already kissed her.” Leliana gave him a pointed look, and Alistair blushed and looked down. “You know how Kallian hates nobles.”
Zevran crouched beside him. “It seems you have joined the ranks of disused party members, my friend,” he said, clapping a hand to his shoulder. “Our Warden has not taken either of us anywhere since she learned to pick locks herself.”
At this Leliana nodded glumly. Alistair picked up a stick and stirred the flames. “So what do we do now?”
Zevran shrugged. “We wait.”
Leliana leaned back and her hand bumped into a satchel. She looked down and let out an excited yelp. She shifted, and then sat up, lifting two bottles out of the pack. Her green eyes gleamed. “Who wants some refreshments?”
Alistair squirmed. “We shouldn’t...”
“Oh, come now,” Zevran said. “It is Oghren’s loss for leaving it behind, he should know better.” He produced a galss and pushed it into Alistair’s hand. “And what else are we going to do?”
“I suppose...” Alistair agreed. He was very bored, and the dwarf probably would not even notice. He began to drink.
After a little while a boat crossed the water and Morrigan stepped out. “She found a mage she liked better,” the witch explained bitterly. She crossed her arms under her breasts and scowled at the others. “Are you drinking?”
“We are!” Leliana said, and she handed Morrigan a glass. “To rejection!”
“‘Tis an odd toast,” she said, but she began to drink also.
Zevran pulled a coin out of his pocket and let it trip over his fingers. “Would anyone like to play a game of cards?” he asked. “A betting game, perhaps.”
“That might be fun,” Leliana mused.
Morrigan shrugged and leaned forward, but Alistair grimaced. “I don’t have any money.”
Zevran pulled a deck of cards out of his pack and grinned mischievously. “We could play for other things,” he suggested, and Leliana snorted a laugh. Morrigan rolled her eyes over her drink but did not protest.
“Uh, what?”
“He means your clothes,” Morrigan said. She looked at him and lifted her chin. “Of course if you are scared, you might refuse.”
Alistair looked at Leliana, who was also watching him expectantly. Zevran shuffled the cards and waited. Alistair took a long pull of his drink and his cheeks glowed a little; he was not very good with peer pressure. “Maybe just one hand...”
Leliana looked at Zevran and her lips curved into a smile. She lifted her glass to her lips.
The elf began to deal.
-o-
When Kallian returned four hours later, exhausted and covered in gore, she found Morrigan and Leliana rosy cheeked and giggling drunk, and Alistair unconscious and stripped to his smalls. For his part, Zevran was entirely sober and fully dressed, and she cocked an eyebrow at him.
“Did you guys... have a good time?” she asked.
Zevran only smirked.
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