"They say that there are many arts employed by bards, not just song."

She turned from that grin, hiding a chuckle beneath her hair as she twisted the last of the tuning pegs.

"These should be part of the lessons too, yes? To ensure that I am... fully trained?"

Passing the lute between them, she smirked. "I doubt there is anything more that I could teach you."

"Ahh not so, dear Leliana, not so." But the words were distracted. Zevran settled the instrument cross his lap awkwardly, for one strange moment uncomfortable.

She laughed, moving behind him to position his fingers across the frets. "Here. You claim to have a deft hand, no? And you can think of it as poetry."

"Poetry?" He quirked a brow at that.

Settling again in front of him, she smirked. She had said too much, perhaps, but there was something... amusing about seeing the assassin off balance.

"And what else has she told you, I wonder?" His grin was wicked.

"That she wants you trained as a bard."

He gave the instrument an experimental strum. "But I fear my voice is not so beautiful as yours. I shall be embarrassed. Perhaps we could retire to your tent?"

"You could walk through a marketplace at noon completely unclothed and I doubt you would so much as flush."

"Ahh, 'tis true." He sigh was wistful, remembering.

This was going to be a long night.