Zevran seemed much more his usual self the next morning, apart from a certain quietness of manner. He and Owen spent the time after breakfast packing away the few of their belongings that were scattered about the room; if Arren did find a place for them to move to, it would be that much less work later.
Owen wore his new armour again, getting used to the leathers, and by mid-morning had decided he needed to speak to Wade about a few ideas of his own for improvements. He and Zevran bumped into Arren in the hallway, and when he heard where they were going, he decided to accompany them as well.
Herren was less than thrilled to see them re-enter the shop, but his ruffled feathers were smoothed somewhat when Arren made a couple of minor purchases – replacement straps, a new gambeson for Alistair, who seemed to have a talent for wearing out anything made of cloth in astonishingly short time – while Owen and Wade put their heads together and discussed Owen's armour in detail.
After a while Wade shook his head regretfully. "It might be possible, but not in drakehide. First, there's only enough of the drakehide left to make a set of armour for a much smaller man than yourself, and it's already been tanned. There is a process the dwarves used to use on dragonhide, which includes lyrium in the pickling stage, that might have the sort of properties you're interested in, but..." Wade shrugged and sighed. "I'd need some raw dragonhide to work with first. And who has any of that in this day and age."
Owen and Arren exchanged a look. Arren sighed. "Fine, you can have it," he told the mage. "I'll be right back."
"You have dragonhide?" Wade asked excitedly.
"Oh, no – no more custom work, please!" Herren groaned. He grew even more incensed when Wade refused to allow Owen and Arren to pay anything for his work on the dragonhide set – apparently he considered it a privilege to work with such a rare material.
It was only after agreeing to pay extra gold to have Wade also make a set of leathers out of the remaining drakehide – sized for Zevran – that Herren grudgingly agreed to accept the commission for Wade to make yet another set of armour for Owen.
"That's fine, I can make the drakehide set while the dragonhide is being tanned," Wade enthused, hands stroking lovingly over the heavy folds of scaley skin. "Anything in particular I should include in the smaller set?"
That set off a long conversation between Zevran and himself about hidden pockets and concealed sheaths and suchlike. Wade seem delighted by Zevran's requests, and had several creative suggestions of his own to make. Zevran was grinning happily and Herren looking dire again by the time they finally left the shop. "The man is definitely a master of his trade," the assassin said warmly. "The leathers he is making for me shall be magnífico when completed. And we shall match," he told Owen, grinning in amusement.
"Assuming the dragonhide comes out this same hideous pink, yes," Owen agreed. "I really need to do something about the colour. Though I might as well wait until I have the dragonhide set."
"We'd better round up the others and head over to Bann Teagan's house," Arren said, glancing at the angle of the sun. "It can't be very long until lunch now."
Mara and Wynne had Tria on her feet and dressed in a clean outfit – clothing of Zevran's or Jowan's, Owen thought, judging by the size and style – and were determined to bring her along rather than leaving her sleeping alone again. Owen reluctantly agreed; he just hoped she wouldn't be too badly frightened by being exposed to such a large swarm of people in unfamiliar surroundings. She seemed quite nervous at first, but as the members of Arren's party cheerfully assembled in the front hall for the walk across town, and treated her with nothing worse than interested kindness, she slowly seemed to relax a little.
She stayed close to the few of them she knew well – Owen, Mara and Wynne – but looked about at the others with a level of curiosity that Owen was heartened to see. She was at least paying some attention to the world around her now, which gave him hope that she might indeed recover, given time. The walk across town scared her a little, but Mara kept a hold of her hand and talked away at her, the rest of their party staying between her and anyone else they passed by, and she never quite panicked.
Bann Teagan was delighted by their arrival at his townhouse, and greeted everyone by name. To Owen's relief the man saw Tria's flustered state and kept his distance when greeting her after being told the name of Arren's newest companion. He led the way to his dining room, a considerably smaller chamber than his brother's dining hall; fitting all eleven of Arren's party in, as well as Teagan and his two houseguests, was a tight squeeze.
"I suppose I'd better perform introductions," Teagan said, smiling happily as he looked around the crowded table, seated at one end of it with Gemma on his right and Morrigan to his left.. He introduced Gemma and Fergus to Arren's group first of all, then worked his way clockwise around the table, introducing everyone else to them. "This is Morrigan, and the Grey Warden Arren, whom the two of you have previously met and the leader of this rather sizable group of people. Wynne, a mage from the Circle Tower, Oghren, a warrior from Orzammar, Zevran, and... Tria, wasn't it? Owen, Mara – another mage – Sten the qunari, and Jowan and Alistair, whom you met the other day."
Gemma and Fergus seemed pleased at the chance to meet more of Arren's group, and Teagan, Fergus, Arren and Alistair were soon involved in a spirited discussion of events around and just after the disaster at Ostagar, each of them comparing their separate viewpoints of what had happened. Down at Owen's end of the table things were considerably quieter, with Mara and Sten quietly talking together, while Owen and Zevran kept an eye on Tria and Owen attempted to draw her into conversation. She ate well, and occasionally made mono-syllabic responses to his questions, but mainly just sat quietly, watching everyone else nervously.
After lunch they all moved to Teagan's sitting room. Mara drew Tria off to one side, joined by Wynne and Morrigan, the three mages talking quietly while keeping the elven woman company. It was a surprisingly relaxed gathering, given what a wide and disparate cross-section of people and races they represented.
Gemma was sitting ensconced on a long couch between Teagan and her brother, looking considerably better than she had the night they'd first encountered her. She'd been right that there was little to be done for her leg; it had been badly broken, then poorly set, and the bones had healed crookedly; she would have a bad limp for the rest of her life, a sorry fate for a woman who'd apparently been a gifted warrior before her injury. Her ribs and arm were healing well though, and Owen was reasonably certain that these more recent injuries wouldn't have any lasting ill-effect.
Zevran came over and perched on the arm of the chair Owen was occupying. He had a glass of brandy in hand and looked a little tired; Owen guessed he'd slept poorly the night before. "I think our good friend has a romantic attachment," Zevran said quietly, with a pleased smile.
"Who? Bann Teagan?" Owen asked, and watched the man for a moment.
"Yes. Look at the way he smiles every time he looks at Gemma. I do believe the Bann has been swept off his feet by a younger woman," Zevran said, and sipped at his brandy. "I wonder how the good lady feels about him?"
Owen watched them for a moment, then looked curiously at Zevran. "Why the interest?"
Zevran shrugged, and smiled. "I quite like the man; one of very few noblemen I have ever met whom I am pleased to be able to call a friend. He and I had a long talk one night, over brandy, about our separate futures. He told me of how he must once again enter the lists of love, when he would prefer a life of quiet bachelorhood, now that he is his brother's heir again."
Owen frowned. "Eamon could always remarry and father more children."
Zevran shrugged again. "It is apparently unlikely – the man loved his wife very much, and has no wish to marry another. So since Connor cannot inherit, it will fall to Teagan and his get, or to more distant cousins."
Owen grunted, and looked across the room at the pair. "They would make a striking couple," he said after a moment.
"And potentially quite a powerful one; he may be only a Bann of a minor holding right now, but he stands to inherit a quite large Arling if his brother pre-deceases him, or is given other responsibilities by the Queen. Arl Eamon apparently has hopes of becoming her Chancellor, the same position he'd planned to hold if he'd succeeded in seeing Alistair crowned king. I have heard a rumour he is also pushing to be named Arl of Denerim if such comes to pass. And until and unless Fergus remarries and produces new heirs of his own as well, Gemma is the heir to the Highever Terynir."
Owen turned to look at Zevran curiously. "You seem very well-informed about local politics."
Zevran grinned. "I am a Crow. In Antiva we are politics. We have been in this city more than long enough – and most especially in the Arl's very household – for me to have some idea of the direction of local dealings. My personal opinion, however, is that the Arl will be disappointed in at least one and possibly both of his ambitions; he had some sway with the Queen prior to the Landsmeet, but she is well-aware that he was initially supporting her overthrow, and I doubt she trusts him. Whether or not she is intelligent enough to append 'out of her sight' to that statement has yet to be seen, of course," Zevran said, and smirked slightly before sipping at his brandy.
Owen laughed. "A good point. What's that saying about friends and enemies?"
"Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer?"
"That's the one," Owen agreed, then nodded at where Arren was in intent conversation with Fergus Cousland. "Arren seems to have made a friend, there."
Zevran nodded. "Fergus is well-disposed to the wardens, I think, and appreciates what an enormous task Arren and Alistair have performed since Ostagar in the course of rebuilding an army to combat the Blight. I rather like the man; his is like our Alistair, stiff with duty and honour. But nowhere near as shy – quite an earthy sense of humour, if anything."
Owen laughed.
It turned out there'd been a very useful outcome from Arren's conversation with Fergus, as he informed his group on the way back to Arl's estate. Queen Anora had already restored the Cousland's Denerim properties to Fergus and Gemma, and when he'd heard Arren's group was seeking somewhere to stay other than the Arl's estate, he'd offered Arren the use of the smaller of the Cousland holdings here. It was a sizable townhouse a couple of streets over from Bann Teagan's residence, in poor shape after having been stripped of valuables by Rendon Howe and used to quarter some of his men, but theirs to use for whatever time they remained in Denerim before setting off again.