The prompt: Strapped for cash, the Warden recalls an earlier conversation with Zevran and decides to put the assassin's other skills to good use.
Warden proceeds to whore out Zevran to bored Ferelden nobles.
Priority on teh funneh. Reactions of disapproval/approval from party members encouraged, but not recquired.
And let's have dwarf!Warden of either gender/origin, 'cause Brosca and Aeducan so haven't been getting enough love here.
The fill:
Alistair took one look at them, and ran away. The shiny, dented back of the armor that his fellow Grey Warden had bought for him was the last they saw of the broad warrior for a long time.
Morrigan shook her head, but otherwise pretended not to know them. Her lovely amber eyes remained focused ahead at all times, even as the dwarf yelled her name and tried to wave her over.
Lelianna stared them, as though imprinting the image to mind before walking to a store to get ingredients for supper. "Perhaps you should make him dance?" she whispered to them before walking back to the rest of the marketplace that had never looked so full of children and lacking so much in guards before.
Wynne, bless her, argued with the Warden, but could not convince the princely dwarf to back down. "On your own heads, then," was her parting remark, though Zevran wanted to argue that this was not exactly his decision.
People stared from a safe distance of at least ten feet. They did not come closer.
"Perhaps, Warden, we should go to a less…respectable area?"
"What? I'm not going in some back alley. At the least, we'll probably get stabbed out there. Or robbed. Or both."
He breathed heavily through his beard and into his cupped hands. "All we need is one good customer. Then we can leave."
"Oh?" Zevran allowed himself the first smile since he'd realized their fearless, peerless leader was serious. "Are you coming with me?"
"I mean, you'll go with the customer. I'll go back to the inn."
The Grey Warden shivered in the cold, but he had more than a leather skirt to cover his legs. "I'm sick of being out here. It's getting late. The others are probably beginning to worry."
"I think they'd wiped their hands clean of this fiasco. Then elected Alistair as the new leader. I hope you're happy."
"Better than Morrigan-Damnit!
"Maybe you shouldn't wear so much armor? Or clothes?"
Zevran might have leered had there not been the threat of snow in the air. "You are a ridiculous man."
"Oh, come on." But his words were directed at the passerby's. "Come on!"
Aeducan finally snapped and ran into the lane to grab a woman by her arm to shake her. She barely had a chance to escape his desperate grasp. "You can't do better than this. I'll even lower the price."
"I'll just change the sign then, hmm? Where's that quill? Oh. It's frozen onto the barrel. I'm sure that's a good symbol."
"He's slutty, he's hot enough—"
"Excuse me?"
"Looks exotic, has a filthy mouth, nice hair."
"Well, thank you. You can put those kind words on my tombstone."
"He'll do whatever you want!" He yelled at a man, well-dressed in a warm woolen coat that Zevran had a brief daydream of wearing. Those sleeves. Those wonderful sleeves. "Whatever you want! He's flexible, and can take a beating! What more could you want?"
"The guards are coming, Warden. Finally."
"Come on! Sure, he's used, but that just means he's good!"