Yet another Zev thread weeky prompt entry. This takes place after the Blight but before Aithne and Zevran leave Denerim
Prompt: Black hole
"Ha! Let's see... When was the last time I slipped my hand into some dark hole? Hmmm... Long story, that."
The four companions had retired to Zevran's room for an evening game of Knave's Gambit. Leliana shuffled the worn card deck while Zevran poured the wine and Aithne closed the shutters against the crescent moon and the crisp autumn wind. Oghren was already slouched in his chair nursing a bottle of unknown and certainly dubious origin. Partners were chosen and the cards were dealt. Such relaxing evenings were rare in the turmoil of Alistair's newly established court.
"Daggers high, my trick." Zevran set the cards in a neat pile to his right.
Leliana laid a card down, ignoring Oghren's facial contortions as he attempted to signal his partner to adopt a new strategy. "I think I'll have my new composition done in time for First Day court."
"Does this mean we'll finally get to hear you sing something besides Demon's Fall?" Although it was a magnificent piece of music, Aithne was heartily sick of hearing the story of the blight over and over.
"Lady of the Forest is the story of the werewolves and the elves. I've left the blight mostly out of it. The tale is sad enough on its own." Leliana hummed a couple of haunting chords.
"Sad stories, epic tales, why can't you bards ever sing something fun?" Oghren groused.
"What do you want, songs about that mad hermit in the forest?" Leliana sighed in exasperation.
"Now that you mention it, yes. Or, at least a song about the hole in his stump." Oghren attempted a sly grin. "I seem to recall someone mentioning a funny story about getting a hand caught in a dark hole…. Now that would make a song."
Zevran sighed, "I had forgotten about that."
"The story elf! You can't say you have a story like that and not tell it. Seems I've been waiting long enough to hear it." Oghren fixed his gaze on Zevran and waited.
"Very well. Keep in mind I was young at the time and it was only my second real assignment as a Crow. I was to assassinate the seneschal of a farmhold. The contract requested the death to look as natural as possible, so I managed to obtain a position working as a laborer to assess the situation. I had been on the farm for a week and, as the newest farmhand, all manner of nasty, dirty jobs had fallen to me. I was heartily sick of the situation, but a contract was a contract. Thus, when most of the workers headed to the village for Summerday fair, I volunteered to stay behind." Zevran sipped his wine and continued, "I spent the morning doing reconnaissance, looking for discrete methods for disposing of the seneschal. As the day warmed I found a nice spot in the shade of a barn for a nap. I was having a most pleasant dream, when I awoke to find it partly reality. There was this magnificent bosom, barely covered by straining fabric, hovering right before my eyes, and this vision was saying something about ropes."
"Get up," She said. "We need to go now, Gitana is labor. I already have the ropes."
"What?" I said, the bosom heaving before my eyes. "Ropes?"
"Come now. She said."
"So I followed her into the pasture and across the stream to find a cow." Zevran sighed. "It was a cow trying to have her calf, and things weren't going well. We tied a rope to the foot that was sticking out and then she said I would have to feel inside to find the other foot. I reached my hand into that dark hole, and felt around. There was a head and two more feet. I slid my hand around until I could figure out which of the other feet went with the head and pulled. With the leg straight the calf came out with some pulling, causing a discharge from the other hole at the back end of the cow." His expression one of disgust Zevran continued. "The milkmaid pulled the first calf forward for the cow to lick off while I went back in for the second one. I was just pulling the twin when the seneschal walked up and demanded that we get the cow to the barn, RIGHT NOW. The cranky old buzzard grabbed the first calf to take it at the same moment as the second calf slid free. The cow jumped up with a bellow, knocked the old man into the stream and stomped on him. By the time she retreated back to her calves the fellow had drowned and my job was done."
Shaking his head, Zevran finished his tale. "I returned to Antiva City covered in bruises and smelling like a cheap brothel. The soap the milkmaid had given me to clean up was scented with flowers and it took five washings to get all the blood and other things out of my hair. Taliesen was amused, although I don't think he ever believed the true story."
Not two weeks later the taverns of Denerim rang with "The Milkmaid's Bosom", known in less polite circles as "The Hole Song."