"This is too easy," Milena muttered under her breath to Alistair. "Where are all the guards?" He looked just as uneasy as she felt. She hoped she was disguising it better than he was. Behind them, Zevran and Leliana kept a wary eye to the sides and behind the group. Milena had made the decision to bring the rogues instead of Wynn or Morrigan. In spite of her protestations, Wynn was in no shape to go sneaking through an enemy castle, and Milena wasn't about to put the apostate mage in a situation where she could be easily captured and given to the Templars. They may not have been the closest of friends, but they had been through too much together for her to do that to the witch. She was hoping that between the three rogues, they could find Anora and keep Alistair from being too obvious if they needed to escape quickly. He refused to be left behind, and she was glad of his knowledge and experience in these human fortresses. Three times now, he had stopped them from running into patrols and sergeants who would have wanted to know more than the group was willing to divulge. They had guard uniforms, thanks to Erlina, but if anyone questioned them too closely, their disguise would be blown.
Milena was on edge. They had spent most of the afternoon sneaking through Howe's estate, and it was wearing on the Dalish elf, who hated being surrounded by stone. They had just come from the basement, where they'd had to fight their way free, ultimately killing Howe and the men surrounding him. "Up there," she whispered to Alistair. They had killed several of the guards in the basement, but they had only seen a fraction of what Alistair had told them to expect on the ground floor and around Anora's room.
Erlina was still waiting by Anora's door, and Milena easily opened it with the pilfered key. She blinked in surprise as a tall armored woman stepped through. "Queen Anora?"
The tall woman nodded once. "Let's go." She brushed aside Milena's questions about her outfit, saying she didn't want to be recognized and put back in custody by Howe's men. The Queen took off and forced the rest of the party to hurry to catch up.
They were only a few feet from the exit when Milena heard the sound of armored men ahead of them. "Stop!" she hissed at the Queen, but she was ignored. She glanced wildly at Alistair, who shrugged helplessly and followed. They had to protect the Queen, but she was walking into a trap. They reached her just as she stepped into the entry chamber. It was as Milena had feared. The rest of Howe's men were waiting for them. She wanted to hiss at the Queen for her betrayal, but one look showed her that the Queen was as nervous as they were. So maybe Anora hadn't led them into a trap after all. Maybe they had all been set up.
The leader insisted they stand down, and she was only after the Gray Wardens. There might be some hope to this failed mission yet. While she exchanged verbal volleys with the leader, she was gesturing behind her back for Zev and Leliana to move back. Hopefully they'd pick up on her hint and get Anora out of the estate. She knew that she and Alistair would have to create a distraction long enough for the other two to do that.
Finally, the woman in charge of Howe's men had had enough. She signaled her men to attack. Milena yelled at Alistair, "Hold them off." He nodded once to show that he'd heard. She threw a fire flask in front of them to buy a few precious seconds. "Zev, Leli, get her out of here. It's me and Alistair they want."
"No, amora! I will never leave you behind," the Antivan elf swore even as he threw one of his daggers.
"Now, Zev! There's no time to argue!" She blocked a guardsman's blow with her borrowed dagger and the strength behind his attack nearly drove her to her knees. "Leli, help me with him!"
The bard nodded. She had played the Great Game long enough to know the stakes. She would follow Milena's order. Milena wished desperately that there was time for one last kiss, but there were too many enemies, and she had to throw herself into the battle if the others were to have any chance of escape. She ripped an acid flask and a fire flask off her belt and threw them together at the advancing men. It created a dense, choking and burning cloud that granted her companions cover. She dove to the far side of the cloud, right in the thick of the guardsmen. Behind her she heard a string of fluid Antivan curses as Leli shoved the assassin toward another exit. Then she couldn't spare any more attention to her friends. She had to fight for her life.
She and Alistair were in borrowed armor and weapons, and she keenly missed the enhancements of both. Alistair was holding up bravely, but the odds were overwhelmingly against them. She placed her back against his and spun her borrowed daggers into a whirring shield of death in front of her. She felt Alistair take two heavy blows in succession to his shield even as she danced out to sink her dagger into an unprotected neck. Unfortunately, most of the guardsmen were in plate, and her daggers were as effective as mosquitoes against them. She managed to take down five by finding weak points in their armor, but she had numerous cuts and bruises through her leather armor.
She was staggered forward as Alistair took a massive blow that pushed him backwards. Then he slumped to the ground, unconscious or dead, she couldn't tell. "Alistair!" she screamed as she spun around to face his attacker. A mountain of a man wielding a two handed hammer stood grinning in front of her, and he was winding up again to take her out. She hated to leave Alistair alone on the floor, but she didn't have a choice. She ducked under the whistling swing of the war hammer to get behind the mountain and shoved her dagger into his unprotected armpit, severing the artery there, and leaving him to bleed out on the floor.
There were dead and wounded men littered all around the Wardens, and still Howe's men kept coming. Milena felt anguish in her heart. There were too many, too heavily armored for her to defeat them all. Still, she would take as many with her as she could. She was Dalish, and she would never give in to shemlen. She was also a battle-hardened Warden, and she would make them pay for what they did to Alistair and herself.
Something hard punched her in the side. She looked down in surprise to see a crossbow bolt sticking out of her ribs. A warm lassitude spread from the arrow through her body. She fought it, striving to keep her daggers flickering in and out, a shimmering curtain of death to any who approached, but she was so weary. A woman with a long sword swung an overhead arc at Milena. She crossed her daggers to block it, but the weight of the swing drove her to her knees. Someone's steel boot caught her in the ribs and she felt something crack. Someone or something else hit her in the back, driving her face first into the stone floor, but she still held onto her daggers. She tried to roll over, but there was a body in the way. Then someone stepped on her hand and she screamed, feeling and hearing the bones in her fingers crunch between the boot, the floor and the dagger pommel.
The battle was over, and she and Alistair had lost. The lights started dimming. She felt more kicks, but they didn't hurt so much. It felt like her body was wrapped in thick blankets, for which she managed to give quick thanks before she was drowned in darkness.
Warmth. There was a comforting warmth at her back that made her want to sink bonelessly into it.
Pain. Sharp shooting pain in her left hand when she tried to move it.
"Shhh, take it easy, Milena."
"Alistair?" Her head felt muzzy. She was worried because it was dark, then it occurred to her that she hadn't opened her eyes. She cracked them open and it wasn't much of an improvement. "Alistair, where are we?"
"Fort Drakon. The dungeons, unfortunately. They said all the guest rooms were full, so they had to put us down here. They did promise a hot bath though," he quipped, but there was a hitch in his breath when he spoke.
It dawned on Milena that the warmth she felt was Alistair's bare chest against her bare back. A ratty wool blanket covered her, and she tried not to think about the creatures it might harbor. It was cold in the dungeon and they were laying on the hard stone floor. Unthinking, she tried to pull the blanket tighter, then cried out at the pain shooting from her hand. She clutched her broken hand to her chest, unwilling to look at it.
"Here, let me see," Alistair said. He gently took hold of her hand and pulled it out where he could examine it in the flickering torch light. "Well, on the good side..." He sighed. His trademark humor had taken as hard a hit as his body. "I guess there is no good side right now. They brought in a mage to heal the worst of our injuries. Guess they didn't want us to die before Loghain could interrogate us about our plans. But they obviously didn't bother treating everything. Do you know if...?"
"I'm pretty sure they got out," she whispered in return.
"Good. At least something went right in our little escapade of doom yesterday."
"Yesterday?" She must have been hurt worse than she thought, although considering that she had thought they were going to die in that fight, this was a step up.
"Yep. Consider yourself lucky you slept that long. Trust me, meals around here are better if you sleep through them."
Milena made a soft humming noise. "Good thing I'm not hungry then."
Alistair wrapped his arms around her middle again and hugged her close to him. The guards had stripped them both naked. The only thing they had left on Milena was her ring of dexterity. It was on her left hand, which was too swollen to permit it to come off. It was actually causing additional pain because of how it cut off circulation, but she ignored it for now. It was too minor to worry about. Nakedness didn't bother her. Everyone had seen everyone else in the camp over the past eighteen months, and right now, body warmth was more important than anything else.
"How are you doing?" she asked.
"Well, I'm seeing two of everything. Normally I'd say that's a bad thing, but at least I get to see two of you, my dearest Milena. The mage healed everything else, although I'd say he needs a refresher course in healing magic. Even Morrigan could do better than he did, and she absolutely hates having to cast healing magic. Everything is stiff, but at least it works."
"Good." She sighed and rested her head back against Alistair's chest. "I have no idea what to do now," she admitted.
"I'm sure Zev and Leliana escaped. They'll find some way to break us out of here," he assured her.
"You sure about that, Alistair? We're in the Fort. We may have slaughtered our way through the Deep Roads, but taking on an entire fort of soldiers might be a little much even for our friends."
"Well, what do you suggest, oh fearless leader? Shall we stage our own prison break?"
Milena laughed briefly. "If I could figure out how to make a lock pick out of straw, I'd consider it. But they took my picks. Maybe I should ask Zev where he hides his." She paused. "On second thought, maybe not."
"Ewww," said Alistair and hugged her closer. "That's an image I can do without."
She relaxed a little bit. If they could still joke, hope wasn't lost yet.
She felt Alistair tense up. "Shhh. Pretend you're still unconscious," he whispered.
Her question died on her lips as she quickly followed his instruction. Over the sound of Alistair's quickened breathing, she heard the heavy footfalls of a guard approaching their cell. "Still out, eh? The blokes downstairs ain't gonna wait forever, ya know. Reckon she'll wake up quick enough when they get to work. Maybe I can even get the party started now, eh? Always heard those knife ear bitches was a sweet piece of..."
"Shut your mouth," Alistair growled. "You sully the already precarious honor of the guards of Fort Drakon with your words. Leave us be. Or bring back your healer if you're so concerned, although the man is so incompetent he should never have been let out of the circle in the first place."
"Hrmpf. Maybe I will at that," the guard groused as he stomped off.
Alistair spoke quietly into her ear once the guard's footsteps had faded into the distance. "He's a persistent one. It's been variations on that theme since I woke up a few hours ago. I was hoping that you being unconscious would stay their hand, but I fear our time is running out."
Still with her eyes closed, Milena tried and failed to suppress the shudder that went through her body. Ever since they had fought in the Deep Roads, her hatred and fear of deep enclosed spaces had only grown. Being trapped in this dank cell, surrounded by massive stones, was draining her spirit and she'd only been awake a few moments. "We can't wait for the others to try and rescue us, Alistair. We have to figure a way out of here."
"Rethinking that lock pick made from straw idea, are you?"
She shook her head and forced the fear back down. "There are only two reasons they'll open that cell door. Take us to the torture room or to rape me. If it's torture, they'll have too many guards for us to fight. But if it's just that one shem, we can take him down."
She felt him shake his head violently. "No, Milena. I won't have you doing that."
"It's our only chance, Alistair, and you know it."
"I won't let him put his filthy hands on you." He held her closer to his body.
"Shh. He won't have a chance. We just need him to open the door and get distracted. It'll be alright, Alistair." Carefully, she turned in his arms until she was facing him. Looking at his face, chiseled lean with all the fighting lately and sharp with worry, she was struck again by what might have been. They had started out antagonists, or rather it had been she who was so angry. She had been angry at the Gray Wardens for forcing her to join them, never mind it was the only way to survive the Taint. She had also inherited her clan's hatred of shems. But Alistair's humor and caring had finally breached the shell of her hostility until she saw the person he was. Not shem, not Warden, but simply Alistair. They had spent many, many nights talking, and he had opened her eyes to the wider world of Ferelden outside the Brecilian forest. In turn, she showed him the hidden wonders of the wilderness they traveled through. They both studied and discussed Morrigan's peculiarities, shushing each other when their laughter got too loud. She still had his rose, tucked safely away with her pack in Arl Eamon's estate. If Zevran hadn't come along, she had no doubts that she would have happily been sharing Alistair's bedroll these past months.
But the Antivan elf had shown up, and she'd decided to spare his life. Almost against her will, she found herself first liking the rogue, then falling for him. Maybe it was because they were both elves, and even after everything that she and Alistair had been through, she couldn't get past the fact that he was shem and she was elvhen. Here and now, though, she was reminded forcibly about everything that she admired in him - his strength tempered with an uncommon gentleness, his quick wit, his fierce loyalty. She looked into his eyes and found herself without words.
"I don't want you to do this, Milena." There was resignation in his tone, though. He knew as well as she did that their options were slim and disappearing fast.
"We'll make it, Alistair. Those filthy guards are no match for a couple of Gray Wardens, even if we are stark naked," she said with a wink.
"Ah, right. So we'll just awe them with our physical perfection, shall we? More likely, they'll take one look at us and fall down laughing, and that's when we'll strike."
Milena tried to smile, but she had to admit to herself that Alistair's physique was very close to perfect for a human. Certainly tempting enough to catch her eye. "Follow my lead," she whispered.
She struggled to sit up, taking the blanket with her and clutching it across her chest with her good hand. Pitching her voice high and loud, she started cursing at Alistair in elvish, telling him to take his filthy shemlen hands off her, and how dare he take advantage of this situation. She swore at him, at the guards, at Loghain, and at Howe for putting her into this situation. The elvish words fell like a silken rain against the harsh background of the fort, and from Alistair's stunned expression, it was clear he didn't understand a single word of her rants, which was exactly what she wanted. She pulled her mind back to the days when she and Tamlen stalked the shems who came to close to their aravels, playing pranks to make them think the woods were haunted. It was easier than she would have liked to fall back into old habits of hating the humans, but for now, she wanted the guard to think she was angry and stupid. She wanted him to think she was so distracted that it would be safe for him to open their cell door. It was their only chance at freedom before Loghain's men put them both in the torture chamber.
Alistair made a hushing noise and waved his hand trying to get her to quiet down. His eyes flickered to a point behind her, letting her know the guard was returning. She winked at him and continued her rant. At this point, she was running out of curses for Alistair, so she started going on about how much she hated the Deep Roads, and the sodding, nug-humping dwarven politics that permeated the very stones of Orzimmar. All the while, she was hoping the guard was greedy and stupid enough to open the door.
Her heart nearly leapt into her throat, and it was all she could do not to turn around when she heard the key turn in the lock. Instead, she kept yelling at Alistair, pointing at him with her broken hand, and occasionally kicking the dust in front of her to punctuate her words. Finally the guard made his presence exceedingly clear. "Shut it, bitch," he yelled over her ranting.
Milena let her voice die mid-sentence as she turned around. She registered Alistair standing up behind her. The guard was at the door holding a viciously sharp steel spear. "Here now, you back up," he said waving the spear in Alistair's direction. "You, you speak Common?" he asked her.
"Well enough," she spat back at him.
"Yeah, well get over here. I think it's time we separate the two of you. I got someplace special for you. Somethin' nice and cozy. You like that, you little knife ear?" he sneered.
"I go no place with filthy shem like you." She emphasized her point by spitting in the dirt at his feet.
"You dirty little bitch," he snarled as he advanced on her. The only weapon he was holding was his spear, and he had to aim it away from her to grab her arm. She let him almost touch her, then she spun away and swept his legs out from under him. Before he even hit the ground, Alistair was on him and pummeling his fist into the guard's face. A few seconds later, and he was unconscious and bleeding on the floor. Milena spat on his face again. "He's lucky I don't have my knives, or I'd slit his throat. Filthy bastard."
Alistair peered out the door and waved her forward. "Come on. Coast is clear for now." They crept down the hall, keeping to the flickering shadows as much as possible. Just a few cells down, they found the jailor's cell with a chest pushed to the side. Fortunately, it was unlocked, and even better, it had their gear shoved in it haphazardly. They quickly dressed in their borrowed guard gear. Milena was ecstatic to see their jewelry tucked into a pouch in the corner. "Can't believe one of the guards didn't make off with these," she whispered as she passed Alistair back his amulet and rings.
"They must be too afraid of Loghain to pilfer anything. With good reason, I'd say. Heads will roll when he finds out we've escaped." He finished wrapping his belt around his guard uniform, then helped Milena finish putting her armor on. Her broken hand severely limited her ability to perform the simplest of tasks, like dressing herself. The leather sleeve didn't come down far enough to completely disguise the bruised and deformed fingers, so she tried to tuck her hand close to her body where it would be harder to notice. At least it was her off hand, and she could still wield a long dagger in her main hand.
"Let's get going," she whispered back. "We still have a long way to go." Now that they were both disguised again, they walked confidently out of the jail wing and picked a direction at random. "You ever been here?" she asked him quietly.
"No, never. But all military bases have a few things in common. Jail cells and torture at the bottom, the commander's quarters on top. Barracks fairly close to the common hall, and far too many bloody guards," he groused, then plastered a goofy grin on his face as they passed a couple of guardsmen heading the other way. Milena tucked herself slightly behind Alistair as would befit a lower ranking guardsman. That way, she could use his bulk to help hide her hand. She kept her head down. The helmet covered most of her vallaslin, but she didn't want to make it obvious she was Dalish.
They took a wrong turn, but it turned out to be a most serendipitous event when they overheard one guardsman talking about keeping the password of the day in his pocket. Milena winked at Alistair, and without either of the guards being wiser, she retrieved the paper and passed it to him. They pretended to inspect some of the stock in the room before heading back toward the larger hallway they'd passed earlier.
Milena thought her heart would beat out of her chest with fear of getting caught. First it was the Commander, who told them to report to their patrol. Then it was the guards who wanted the password, and then they ran into yet another obstacle in the form of the staff sergeant who wanted to know where they were going. Alistair gave her a winning smile and a wink as he told her they were headed to the barracks for some downtime. When the sergeant waved them through, Milena had to force her legs to follow Alistair as he threaded through the multitude of guards in the main hall. She hadn't been so afraid since they'd faced the Broodmother. It wasn't that the guards were strange, but that there were so many of them. If anyone raised the slightest suspicion, she and Alistair wouldn't stand a chance, and they'd be in Loghain's torture chamber in minutes.
She stole a glance at Alistair. It was only the way his lips were compressed together to a thin line that gave away his stress. Otherwise, he looked as comfortable as if he were strolling through Denerim's marketplace. Milena strove to copy his attitude. Darkspawn, forest beasts, mercenary bands...all of those she'd faced with far less trepidation than trying to hide in plain sight among a fortress full of enemy soldiers.
They walked past a door that led to a Chantry refuge. Up ahead were the main doors that lead to the exit. Milena felt her spirits lift with each step, and she unconsciously sped up until she was walking parallel with Alistair. She was so desperate to get out of the Fort that she committed the unpardonable act of not paying attention to her surroundings. That's when she bumped into a tall, heavily armored man leaving a room opposite the Chantry. Immediately, she backpedaled and murmured apologies without looking up, hoping that he would be in a hurry and ignore her if she pretended to be a lowly soldier. No such luck.
"You there. Watch where you're going! Maker's bride, aren't here any competent soldiers here? Wait, come here," he ordered her.
Milena didn't know if it was her elf ears, her vallaslin, or her broken hand that had stirred his interest, but suddenly, he was staring at her intently. "I know you," he growled. "You're one of the prisoners." His gaze flickered to Alistair. "You, too. Guards!"
He started to draw his sword, but Milena was faster. Her dagger was out and into his throat before he could yell again, but the damage had been done. The guards in the main hall behind them had been alerted and were starting to trot in their direction. When they saw Milena kill their captain, they sped up to a sprint.
"Run, Milena!" Alistair yelled as he stepped between her and the main hall door. He raised his stolen guard shield and used his massive strength to bash the first guard to cross the threshold, stunning him back into unconsciousness.
"Not without you," the elf yelled back as she took up on his other side. "Fall back to the main door."
Alistair nodded and stepped backward, but more guards were pouring through the doorway. Milena despaired. They had been so close! If only she could get forward to close the doors, but it would take more time and strength than she had. Suddenly the doors to the courtyard opened behind them, and a bolt of arcane energy scattered the advancing guardsman, tossing most of them back into the main hall.
"Close the doors!" shouted a very familiar voice with a very aggrieved tone.
"Morrigan," Milena breathed in relief. She and Alistair took advantage of the lull and ran forward to close the doors. She didn't know how they would block them, but Morrigan had that covered as well.
"Back," the witch ordered, and before the two of them had taken more than a couple of steps, Morrigan shattered the keystone above the door with a well-placed bolt. The stone dropped a few inches and wedged into the main hall doors. "It won't hold for long, so I would suggest the pair of you move your arses out of here immediately."
"Ah, lovely Morrigan. Is there ever a time when you don't make it sound like you're doing us a great favor just with your mere presence?" Alistair quipped as he ran out the main hall.
Milena followed quickly, smiling as she saw Leliana covering their exit.
"But that is exactly what I'm doing, you imbecile. Although I'm just as glad that the pair of you managed to make it out of your cell. 'Tis doubtful the plan hatched by your pair of rogues would have actually succeeded in spiriting you out of that dungeon. Do you know it involved having the inebriated dwarf pretend to be a circus performer? Still, 'tis better than their first plan, which involved presenting me as a Chantry sister. Had they actually tried to carry through with it, the first casualties would have been your rogues."
As they were retreating from the courtyard, Morrigan cast a few more spells and Leliana loosed arrows at a few bold guardsmen who thought about giving chase. As they passed the gates of the Fort, a shadow materialized behind Milena. "Ah, my dear Gray Warden, so good to see you in one piece and free of that miserable excuse of hospitality."
"Zevran!" Milena just stopped short of squealing in joy, turning it into a slightly high pitched greeting instead. She wrapped her arms around him and squeezed as hard as she could, which wasn't nearly as hard as she would have liked. "I was so afraid I wouldn't see you again," she breathed against his neck. She saw the splatters of blood on his armor and hands, suggesting that he had been busy in the shadows while Morrigan and Leliana drew the fire.
"My dearest Warden, you think I would have let them keep you in there? Tch. You wound me with your poor estimation of my abilities. Truly, we were only a few moments from putting our dastardly plan into action and springing the pair of you free like the beautiful exotic birds that you are. Well, perhaps our Chantry boy would be more of a barn owl." His tone was light and teasing, as always, but he held her tightly against him and refused to let go.
"I suggest you love birds leave off the reunion until later unless you would like to return to the dungeon from which we just extricated you," Morrigan said tartly.
"For once, I agree with the swamp witch," Alistair said. "We need to get back to Eamon's estate, and the city guards will be looking for us shortly."
Leliana bubbled with laughter. "Oh, but they will not be looking for a Chantry brother and sister." She held out a robe large enough to fit Alistair. "I will accompany our brother, Alistair, back to Arl Eamon's estate. Morrigan will shapeshift and make her own way back. Zevran assured us that he could get Milena through the city shadows, so in effect, we will all disappear into the crowds with none the wiser." As she was talking, she was leading Alistair into an alley behind a pie seller. "Go, you two," she said to the elves. "We will see you soon enough."
Zevran pulled Milena's guard cap off and tossed it into the gutter, along with several other pieces of her armor. By the time he was done, she looked like a poor, disreputable mercenary who could only afford the most basic armor instead of a city guard. He reached for her left hand, then narrowed his eyes when she pulled it away. "Brasca!" he swore when he got a look at her broken hand. "Tell me who did this, mi amora, and I swear they will not live to see the dawn."
She shook her head. "Let's just get moving, Zev." They ducked and wove their way through the stalls, and even through a couple of them until they were several aisles over from where they left the others.
"What else did they do?" he hissed over his shoulder as he guided her through a narrow opening between two booths.
"Nothing," she bit back. She could see by the set of his shoulders he was still angry. Well, she was, too. "Not for lack of trying," she added after a couple of minutes. "That's why we had to get out when we did. You know what they would have done if we'd stayed."
"Si, I know exactly what they would have done. They are lucky that you are so clever and brave, my dear Gray Warden, else there would be significantly fewer city guards come tomorrow morning." His words were clipped and angry. He stopped abruptly and pulled her into an embrace. His amber eyes glittered dangerously as he crushed her to him and devoured her lips with his. Milena willingly gave herself to his embrace, letting him taste all the fear and desperation she had experienced over the past few hours. "I hate cities," she whispered against his lips when they finally had to break for air.
"So much better to be killed by bears and werewolves, is it, my Dalish jewel? I find I dislike the idea of being gutted by claws just as much as by the guards, myself."
"At least the bears won't try to rape you," she spat out bitterly.
"Ah, mi amora." Zevran sighed and tucked her head into his neck and stroked her hair. This moment reminded him of the immense gulf between them. No matter that they were both elves, their upbringing could not have been further apart. A wild Dalish raised in a clan that was basically one big extended family compared to a whoreson turned Antivan Crow assassin trained in seduction and murder. What to him would have been nothing more than a fortunate opportunity to turn the tables and kill his rapist, to her would have been the most depraved of violations. This was not the time to point out that it was only a matter of perspective between them, though. He kissed her again, more gently this time. "Come, let us find our way back to the lovely Wynn so that she may heal this beautiful hand. After all, you would be missing out on many delightful forms of entertainment with only one hand available." He was rewarded with her smile against his neck. "Come, we must find an alternate route back to Eamon's estate. I do not think you will be up for climbing rooftops. Let us go home, mi amora."