A/N: Another short one-shot gift fic, this one for the wonderful Tumblr user festisbeiumocanavarum. He asked for something involving his Dalish archer Ghellynh and his favorite Antivan assassin, and gave me free rein of the topic so long as I promised not to write anything too depressing as I'm sometimes inclined to do. Hopefully he and anyone else who reads it enjoys!

Merry Christmas, friend!

Taking Respite

"I hope you realize how absolutely absurd this is."

"Oh? Since when has resting during a long trip been considered absurd?"

"Since I'm supposed to be meeting the Wardens from Val Foret by the end of this week and we're still more than five days out from reaching Jader, even without this rest of yours."

"Ah yes," Zevran said with a roll of his eyes, his arms folding together as he leaned back into the door frame of their rented room, "how horridly foolish of me to think you would wish to reach our destination feeling well enough to make the return journey without collapsing halfway through."

From his place on the room's bed Ghellynh threw him a half-hearted glower, the heat behind his irritation quickly petering out to a haggard grimace. He fell back against the pillows with a frustrated huff, a dark arm coming up to drop over his eyes. "We're already going to be long enough overdue as it is, Zev," he said in exasperation, words coming out thick and distorted through a congested nose.

"Then it will make little difference if we arrive an extra day behind schedule, will it not?"

Ghellynh peeked out from beneath his arm with one eye, mouth pulled into a frown. "It most certainly will make a difference when it's my head Varel comes after if his precious meeting can't start on schedule like he wanted."

"And what would you have us do instead?" Zevran asked as he stepped away from the wall, arms falling away and to his sides. He crossed the room in a matter of a few short strides, taking care not to jostle the ill man any more than was necessary as he lowered himself to perch on the edge of the mattress. "You know as well as I that you are in no condition to travel."

"For the last time, I'm perfectly-"

"Fine? Of course you are," Zevran interrupted, a hint of sarcasm creeping into his voice. "That is why you were dragging your feet through the whole of the market and required my assistance climbing the stairs to our room, yes?" A pause before he gave a resigned sigh, paying little attention to Ghellynh's second and yet again failed attempt at a scowl as he leaned forward to unfasten the toggles of his traveling cloak, freeing it from beneath him with a few firm tugs. "Need I remind you of what happened the last time you demanded we rush ourselves in order to make up for lost time?"

"It's not my damned fault the ice didn't hold," Ghellynh said with a growl which quickly shifted to a cough that shook the whole of his chest.

"This is true," Zevran said, pausing in his work against the buckles of Ghellynh's cuirass to pour a glass of water from the pitcher on the nightstand and press it into his waiting hand, "but you were the one who fell through into the river because you insisted it would take too much time to travel down the road to use the bridge."

Ghellynh pulled his arm away from his face and lifted his head from his pillow long enough to drink, draining the glass in three long gulps before setting it back onto the side table with a clumsy thunk. "A minor setback. The waters weren't even that deep. I pulled myself out easily enough, didn't I?"

"Yes, but not before you were soaked through to the bone and caught yourself whatever illness this is."

"By the Creators - It's only a blighted cold."

"Precisely," Zevran said easily as he began pulling Ghellynh's armor away piece by piece, tucking them beneath the foot of the bed before moving to sit even with his feet. "One which I would prefer to see remain so and not grow into something far worse because you are determined to continue being a stubborn fool, amore."

Ghellynh opened his mouth as though to argue the matter further, only to let it fall shut at the pointed glare Zevran shot him over the top of the laces of his boots. Instead he lifted his chin with as much dignified resentment as could be expected from one suffering such a bout of ill-health, arms folding tight against his chest as he stared up into the rafters. "Humph. Fine, Zev, have it your way. But when Woolsey comes asking questions about why we thought it necessary to pay five sovereigns a night for a room, you can be the one to offer explanations."

Zevran breathed a soft chuckle as he pulled first the right and then the left boot free from Ghellynh's feet, dropping them one after the other to the floor with a dull thud. "Is that all the price of your cooperation is, now? My playing scapegoat for an old woman's pique? And here I had thought it would be an actual challenge to convince you to see reason."

"Yes, well, don't let it go to your head or anything," Ghellynh said, lips thinning into a crooked line in a poor attempt to hide his grin. "We both know you wouldn't have let the matter drop until you got your way, and frankly I don't have the energy to fight with you about it."

"Still, it is good to see I did not have to resort to tying you to the bed as I had anticipated."

Ghellynh's focus dropped away from the ceiling to find Zevran's gaze, one dark brow arching as the ghost of a smirk twisted its way across his mouth. " Why Zevran Arainai, you weren't planning on taking advantage of the infirm, were you?"

Zevran's eyes widened in mock affront, one hand coming up to clutch dramatically at his chest. "You wound my honor, signore! What sort of depraved lecher do you take me for?" He shook his head, tutting under his breath as he shifted himself to rest beside Ghellynh's hips. "You do realize, I hope, I am not so prone to the whims of my own desires that I would have been unable to resist ravishing you. At least until you were feeling well enough to enjoy it, that is."

This time it was Ghellynh's turn to chuckle, though it came out breathy and rasped. "How selflessly noble of you, love."

"I find it to be more a matter of pride," Zevran said with a grin, his hands reaching out to begin loosening the buttons of Ghellynh's trousers. "To have my attentions not receive the reverence they so greatly deserve – why that would be simply criminal. Now, lift your hips for me so that we might have you out of these wretched things."

Ghellynh's brow quirked higher. "For a man insisting he has only chaste intentions you certainly aren't doing a good job of appearing convincing," he said, though he did as bade and pushed himself far enough off the mattress for Zevran to pull his breeches past his hips and off his legs, leaving him clad in nothing more than his tunic and smalls.

"I suppose you have no choice but to trust me, then," Zevran said as he stood from the bed, smirking as he helped Ghellynh slide between the covers and adjusted the pillows beneath his head. Once satisfied that he was settled and comfortable, Zevran poured a second glass of water from the pitcher and picked the discarded trousers up from the floor, draping them over the bed's foot board as he made for the door. With his hand resting against the brass knob he paused, sending a glance back over his shoulder. "I will be back shortly. I believe the inn keeper should have some tonics to help you sleep. Is there anything in particular you would like me to request from the kitchens while I am there?"

"Whatever stew or soup they have going already would be more than fine," Ghellynh said from the bed, bearing turning sheepish as he fidgeted with the hem of the quilt. "And, Zevran? I... Thank you. For... Well, you know. Everything."

"There is no need for thanks, amore," Zevran said, smiling while something warm began curling its way through the center of his chest. "Now do get some rest, will you? It would be a terrible shame if we were still unable to make full use of that bed come morning."