The group of companions stood outside the inn. "I really, don't believe it."

"Well, believe it," Morrigan said. "I quite like the image on the sign."

Suami tilted her head, and eyed the inn's picture. There was a man. A man in armour. He held a tankard in one hand, a head splitting grin and rode a white griffon. In his other hand, was the head of a darkspawn.

"Well, I like it." Zevran chimed in. "Adds a little frivolity. You wardens are too well known for lacking in the frivolity department."

"But....The...Jolly...Warden...." Alistair sighed. "The...Jolly, Warden. Jolly."

"Oh well." Suami said, stepping forward and opening the door. "I don't believe in signs, but this was one if ever I saw it. Perhaps they can deliver on their promise and we'll leave this place Jolly."

….

Alistair was grateful for being indoors, and the hot bath. He was sick of washing in streams, and washing his clothes in streams. Suami didn't know it, but he had taken her comments about his smell and appearance to heart, and was now obsessed with his hair. And it was so hard to style it without a mirror. He felt clean, refreshed, revitalised. Perhaps tonight he would finally approach Suami and see where things between them stood. If they were on the same page. Her acceptance of his rose, and the jest about going to bed all seemed fairly genuine, but he had chickened out in the end. He wasn't quite ready. Perhaps tonight he would--

His train of through was interrupted by Zevran. "Alistair! My dear friend!" He called jovially down the corridor. "How are you old horse? Enjoy your bath?"

They stopped to chat in the hallway. "Yes I did rather, it was good change. If only we could convince Oghren to take a shot at the bath."

"Hmm yes." Zevran said, his eyes unashamedly roving over Alistair's body. Suddenly the templar was very self conscious. "I must say, Alistair," The crow went on. "Your training regime gives you credit, you must have ladies falling at your feet quite frequently, hmm? Men too?"

"Wh...What?" Alistair stuttered, lifting his spare towel towards his chest in an attempt to cover up.

"Come now! Don't be bashful, if you have it flaunt it! I know I do."

"Um. Yes. Quite." Alistair muttered.

"Anyway, I must be onward for my bath," Zevran said, making to move past Alistair. But at the last second his footsteps faltered and he tumbled forward, reaching out to Alistair to steady his balance. One hand found purchase on the other man's chest, the other slipped past his waist towards his behind. Zevran straightened up, and offered a cheeky grin.

"Whoops." He declared, before his wandering hand shamelessly gave the templar's arse a squeeze.

~xXx~

"He hit my faaaace!" Zevran bemoaned, "My beautiful face! Now no-one here will even look at me twice, I'm disfigured!"

"It's only a black eye Zevran," Wynne said, sipping wine. "I've got a poultice that will reduce the bruising if you like."

"It's too late now....." He lamented, peering at his reflection in a spoon. "Look, the purple clashes horribly with my golden locks. Who could do such a thing to such a beautiful work of art?"

"You did grope his behind," Leliana said softly, "I think you deserved it, I'm sure Alistair wouldn't have appreciated it. He's never struck me as.....that way inclined."

"Can you blame an elf for wanting a feel of that?" Zevran responded, lifting the cold piece of steak to his face. "He's been purposefully running around in front me for week. Wiggling it back and forth. Taunting me with it. Leaving me mad with desire and curiosity. Alistair was asking for it! Suami has already made it clear she is not interested, who else am I to pursue? Oghren?"

There was a moment while the three companions contemplated the alternative.

"That....would be pushing it." Wynne said gently, reaching forward and peeling the steak away from Zevran's face. "You really must consider letting me create a poultice Zevran, at least let me get rid of the swelling."

"I rather think he's wearing it like a badge, a war wound?" Leliana suggested.

"I shall have my revenge...." Zevran mused.

At that moment Suami entered the busy tavern bar, spying her companions she pulled up a stool and sat with them. She offered Zevran a smile and glanced between Wynne and Leliana.

"What happened to you?" she asked grinning at him.

"Your templar took offence at my appreciation of his 'hind quarters,'" Zevran declared. "He's worse that your dog, at least he growls first before he bites you."

"Alistair punched you?" She replied, unable to hide the admiration in her voice.

"In the face!" Zevran's hands pointed to his face, and the huge purple bruising forming on his right eye "My beautiful face! How will I tempt one of these lovely ladies back to my bed tonight? My soft indoor, treat of a bed?"

"Well..." Suami contemplated. "We could get you an eye patch. You could tell them you're a pirate from a far flung country, and you lost your eye in a battle with a furwal."

"Don't be—" The assassin paused. "I like that idea." And with that he left the table, dashing off to locate an eye patch.

The girls laughed, and Suami ordered herself a drink and some food from the serving girl. With that done, she turned her attention back to Wynne and Leliana, "So are you feeling better Wynne?" She asked, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "You had us terribly worried."

"Oh, I'm fine." The mage replied softly, smiling gently. "Thank you for concern, child. But there really is no need to worry."

"I just wanted to make sure. Can't have you dropping dead on us in the middle of a battle, ya know?" Suami smiled, and their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of Suami's drink. And Alistair.

"Evening all." He said, eyes looking for Zevran. "Any idea what's for dinner? I hope they have cheese."

The girls replied with a snigger.

"Whaaaat?" Alistair was beginning to feel like the butt of a bad joke.

"Oh, nothing dear child." Wynne said softly. "We had just been discussing your blossoming romance."

"Romance, what romance? There's no romance?! At least, I don't think there is, is there?" Panic crawled across his features as he glanced at Suami, who was smiling into her drink.

"Really?" She said, raising her eyebrows. "I was under the impression that there was. Are you saying there isn't?"

"No, I mean, Yea, Uh...Um, is this really the place to be discussing this? We're not exactly alone..."

"Alone? When else are we supposed to talk about it? We've already discussed it with Zevran. In great detail."

"What detail? Zevran, what's he got to do with it?!" Alistair's blush was moving into his forehead.

"Awww, poor Zevran." Leliana said. "He'll be heartbroken."

"What? How? Why?" Alistair was getting desperate. "What's he got to do with it?"

"Well...your fist did connect with his face, correct? At least, that's how he tells it...Unless it was another part of your anatomy.."

Suami sprayed her mouthful of beer all over Alistair, who had stupidly sat across from her. He winced. "Sorry!" She snickered, giggling into her beer.

"You're bad women. All of you. Evil, Bad, women."

"Oh, really, Alistair." Wynne piped up contemplatively. "What romance did yo think we were discussing?"

"Um..Nothing. Nevermind. I was just confused." He then swiftly got the attention of a serving maid, and changed the topic of conversation to enquire about cheese.

Fortunately, there was some and food was ordered. Just as the meal was finished there was a happy declaration from doors of the tavern.

"I found some!" Zevran declared, positively bounding over to his friends, gripping his find tightly by the wrist. "I've found a pirate! There's a whole bunch of them!"

He was dragging in a poor, dishevelled, slightly confused sailor. His uniform was crumpled, and there was what appeared to be a vomit stain down his front. He was wearing an eye patch at a jaunty angle. It was clear someone else had put the eyepatch on him.

Somewhere, Zevran had acquired himself a tricorn hat with a large red feather in it. This was worn at a rather dashing angle, and he had also managed to get himself an eyepatch, which now covered his bruised eye. He shoved his new 'friend' down on a stool beside Alistair and plopped himself into the empty seat beside Suami. He flashed Alistair a triumphant, toothy grin.

"And I've found the perfect one for you, my dear lady. He's got three legs, and only one of them is wooden." A little nudge and a wink. He waved his mostly empty bottle of rum enthusastically.

Alistair shot the elf a nasty glare. "And how would you know that he right for her, Zevran?" He forgot himself for a little bit, finding himself particularly disliking the assassin this evening.

"Because she and I, discuss our feeeelings with each other, my good friend Alistair. Instead of punching and running when things do not go our way."

"What?"

"Well, I can graciously accept when a woman chooses another over myself, there are plenty more fish in the sea."

Suami interjected at this point, not really keen on where the conversation was going. "You are looking rather dashing in that eyepatch, Zevran dear." She said, confident that turning the elf's conversation back onto himself would derail his train of though.

"I am rather, aren't I?" He declared, draping one arm about Suami's shoulders, "Now tell me, if I was to say to you, "Argh, Pirate Zevran reporting for duty," His other hand dropped to her thigh, giving it an obvious squeeze. "Prepare to be boarded." A wink. "Would it make your loins burn for me?"

Alistair visibly tensed. His jaw clenched, and Leliana watched him bend his spoon in one hand.

Suami chuckled, both hands reaching up to pat Zevran on his cheeks. "Positively." She replied flatly. "Now go and try it on the brunette behind the bar, she looks thick enough to fall for it."

"Ah...you break my heart dear lady. Alas, you shall be mine yet!" And with a smooch on her cheek, the elf departed for more accessible pastures. With a chuckle Suami watched him depart with a shake of her head.

"Well, I must got to bed." Wynne declared with a theatrical yawn. "Leliana will you help an old woman to her room"?

"Of course Wynne," Leliana winked at Suami. "Good night you two, don't stay up too late." And with that the other two women left, leaving a little bit of an awkward silence.

"So you and Zevran..." Alistair began, only for Suami to hold up a hand to silence him as she reached for her pack. From it she withdrew a small bundle tied with a little green ribbon. Gingerly she reached forward and took his hand, firstly removing the bent spoon grasped within it, and placed the little package there.

"Here." She said softly. "I wanted to apologise for the other night, for yelling at you like that. I shouldn't have lost it."

"Oh." Alistair said. All anger and jealousy draining away. "Um, thank you. What is it?" He eyed the little package cautiously, wondering where Suami found a green ribbon.

"It's a gift silly." She teased, reluctantly drawing her hands back into her own lap. "Open it."

Carefully he perked an eyebrow at her, before untying the ribbon. It fell away and he unfolded the material to reveal a three pairs of lambswool socks. They were new. They were fresh, and they were clean. "Wow!" Alistair gushed, "They even have my name on them!" With big eyes he smiled over at Suami. "I don't know what to say."

She nodded towards one of the socks. "There's more."

Alistair unfolded the final sock, and something small and silver clinked gently into the palm of his hand. As he lifted it up to the light to examine it, he spotted Andraste's holy symbol carved onto the locket.

"What's this? Is this my mother's amulet? It has to be!"