He certainly hadn't expected that to happen. Anders blinked twice, closed his eyes and then blinked again. Nope, they were still there. He wondered if he should say anything. No, better not. It would just get him into trouble. Or rather, more trouble than he was already in. They couldn't blame him for this, could they? After all, when he left they'd all still been wearing clothes. He slowly tried to back out of the room before anyone noticed him. Please don't let the floor creak, he prayed to no one in particular. Bump. Anders swallowed. Please let him have miscalculated the placement of the beam. He turned slowly to find Iseult standing behind him, eyebrow raised.
"From that look, I take it you had some hand in this," she gestured to the room. Tables were knocked over and empty bottles lay haphazardly with books, scattered across the floor. "The library? Really?"
"Well…" Anders glanced behind him and then back at Iseult. "It sort of made sense at the time."
She motioned him into the hallway and closed the door behind her. "Explain?"
"It really wasn't my fault. I just provided the ale, and maybe a few bottles of alcohol."
"So simple drinking led to that." Now Iseult raised both eyebrows. "There was a vine circling a bookshelf. With bright red flowers. And a distinct lack of clothing, except for you."
"Well, I… may have inadvertently had something to do with that. Someone put butter on my staff."
"Ah. That explains last week."
"So I thought it might be funny if a few of our companions thought that they were receiving notes from each other." Anders tried to walk her further down the hall. He really didn't want to be there when the door opened again.
"What kind of notes?"
Anders handed her a slip of paper. He was impressed – she read it without the slightest blush.
"You misspelled ecstasy," she said, handing the note back. "But the sketch was good."
"Thanks, I…"
There was a sound of fury behind them.
"Human! Explain this."
"Commander…" Anders began, beseechingly.
"You're the one that gave Velanna erotic love notes, you're going to have to deal with her."
"I remember you giving us liquor. Explain."
There were leaves in Velanna's hair and what little clothing she wore was ripped, a bruise starting to turn shocking colors on her arm. The most notable thing, however, was the tattoo on her bare shoulder. It was a stylized tree, with the hint of a grey warden griffin in its roots.
"Yes, Anders, why don't you explain," said a new voice, as Ambassador Cera exited out of the room. She was in a similar state to Velanna, and they both blushed and looked away as their eyes met. She also had a tattoo on her shoulder – a tree that nearly matched Velanna's. Again the two women's eyes met and they looked away.
"The ale from last night… it might've been spiked with Oghren's special brew."
"That does not explain this," Velanna motioned angrily around her. "I remember… a fight."
"Yes," Cera chimed in, and then glared at Velanna. "You wrote me notes, and then you denied it!"
"No, you wrote me notes and then denied it!" Velanna shot back, anger simmering like a tangible thing between them.
Anders stepped valiantly between them. "Actually… I wrote the notes. It was supposed to be a joke."
"It failed." Velanna said, scathingly. Anders was sure if the Commander wasn't standing right there, he'd be in much more trouble.
"They weren't even for you. If you didn't go around picking up every bit of litter so you could complain about us, you wouldn't have read them."
"And me?" Cera asked, with more anger than Anders had ever seen her display.
"I might've… left them for you. But you weren't supposed to think they were from Velanna – I never thought…" Anders stopped, glancing from one woman to the other. He really had never seen that coming.
"Did you also tattoo us?" Velanna demanded, "And steal our clothing?"
"No," Anders waved his hands in protest. "You were both still fighting last I saw. I don't know what happened."
"What about them?" Velanna gestured behind her.
This joke definitely wasn't ending up like he expected. He'd expected the notes to be picked up by Cera and Nate, Sigrun and Oghren. Nate was supposed to stammer and blush and look awkward as Cera confronted him, and Sigrun was supposed to beat Oghren about the head. Nothing had gone right.
"Well? They are both similarly unclothed and entwined," Velanna blushed, determinedly not looking at Cera, "And have tattoos."
"The same, they read the notes and drank the alcohol and started arguing."
"So you just left all of them fighting, after you'd started it?" Iseult's voice was none too happy.
"I went to find you, but you weren't in your rooms. So I thought I'd get more ale, make them pass out – only I think I passed out first."
"Then who gave us the tattoos?" Velanna's voice was shrill. Little shoots of bramble began to grow from the cracks in the stone flooring.
"You don't like them?" A new voice slid seductively into the conversation, "Ah, I'm hurt. You girls were very… enamored of them last night. And of one another. If only I hadn't been otherwise engaged…" Anders turned in time to see a very tanned elf run a finger down his Commander's neck. He tried to hide his grin. Zevran was back. This should be fun.
"Zevran," Iseult said, catching his hand. "Is this what you were doing while I was meeting with Varel?"
"I had to occupy my time somehow, mi amor. I thought it some of my best work. Seldom have I done four in one night," he gave a little smirk, and Anders turned away to hide his laugh.
"We asked for these?" Velanna scoffed.
"Indeed. You also asked for the names of one another," Zevran's voice was amused, "The others only wanted the Grey Warden tattoo. They seemed much past the drunken lust phase."
"There was no lust!"
"No?" Zevran smiled, "My mistake then. Although… could you moan for me? I never forget a moan."
Velanna closed her mouth, opened it, and then closed it again.
"Speechless. I don't know if I've seen that before." Anders said, impressed.
"Why's everyone outside the library?" Oghren asked, stumbling into the conversation, still bleary-eyed and a little drunk. He opened the door before anyone could stop him. Anders couldn't help staring. He'd never expected all those luscious curves underneath the armor she always wore.
Sigrun's voice cut right through his reverie, "Oghren if you don't close that door right this instant, you'll be wearing your ass as a hat!"
"Asshat," Oghren chortled, but he closed the door quickly.
Sigrun opened the door a few inches. She held a scrap of clothing up in front of her. "Would you mind taking all this conversation someplace else?"
Velanna turned on her. "Where is your anger?" she demanded.
"I'll show you my anger, if you don't move along," Sigrun replied. "Oh, Zevran, thanks for the tattoos. Nice work."
"You're welcome, my lovely," Zevran gave a small bow.
"You should be furious! Those letters are forgeries, made by him!" Velanna pointed, and Anders wondered if he was imagining the thorn pressing into his ankle.
"Give it up, Velanna. Sounded like you were enjoying yourself to me. Now, all of you, shoo!" she waved her hands, "And don't come back for at least 3 hours. No, 4 hours. And only come back if you bring food." She closed the door firmly in all of their faces.
"So Velanna, you and the Ambassador, hunh? She teach you any runes?" Oghren waggled his eyebrows suggestively.
"Shut up, dwarf," Velanna turned and stalked away. After a moment, Cera followed.
"You know they'll eventually make you pay for this," Iseult said as they started toward the kitchens.
"I know," Anders sighed. A duster and a rogue. What had he been thinking?
"That tattoo gives Nate a much more menacing look, don't you think?" Zevran said, "It goes well with that scowl and those muscles." He gave a sly glance at Anders, "He is very good with poisons and lockpicking, no?"
Anders sighed again. "Yes."
Nate and Sigrun. Together. Anders decided he was never pulling a practical joke again. Well, not until this one had blown over, at least.