Interlude – Turning Crow
"Can someone explain to me why we thought it would be a good idea to place dismembered parts of a demon onto an altar again?" Aiden's deadpanned question echoes through the thaig. He almost laughs at it, and does laugh at Cleon's droll 'I told you so' signs. Really, though, the trip into the Deep Roads had been just as boring as expected. Poor lighting, the smell of rotting flesh, puddles of blood all over the place… really, it felt more like a trip to one of the bars. Well, except for the darkspawn. And the ghosts. He didn't appreciate those.
Shaking his head, he glances over the strange little group he found himself attached to. Attached in… well… most senses of the words. He was fond of the group. Some more than others, he was certain Morrigan was just biding her time, and a brief conversation had done nothing to dissuade him of it, but… well, he couldn't say he disliked it.
"Zevran, are you injured?" He blinks slowly as Wynne approaches him. While he adored riling her nerves, he had to admit she was perhaps the closest thing to a mother he had in a long, long time. Even with the aggravating patronizing she was sometimes prone to do. "Zevran?"
"I was simply wondering how best to ask you if I might rest my head on your bosom!" he replies without missing a beat. She rolls her eyes and he laughs. "No, fear not! I am uninjured." The Pride Demon had focused much more on the other members of the party. "Best check Oghren, though! You know how dwarves are."
"You're a charmer, Zevran." And she leaves, but not without a warm and gentle smile that makes him bounce on his toes, like a little kid who just got praised. And he glances at the others as they continue through the thaig. Ortan thaig, according to Oghren. Strange that the place's name was remembered. Their lovely golem friend kept glaring at the walls like it was remembering something, but not a word it said.
As they walk, he notices Sten giving him an odd look, and so he skips over. Ever the social one, he is. "Yeeees~?" he drawls, mostly because he knows it annoys Sten and it's just so much fun.
Sten, as expected, scowls, but he accepts the greeting with a question, "Why are you called a Crow?"
"That is because I am, or was, an Antivan Crow." A mission he took just to die at last. Yet, here he is. Alive and well. And really, feeling happier than he ever did in the Crows.
"Crows are scavengers." Ah, that is his protest. "Not killers."
"Well, I heard at one time, the name Antivan Kestrels was considered. But that doesn't sing through the air or dance off the tongue nearly as well." He shrugs. "Perhaps it is because crows are a symbol of death. Look to our Morrigan! She wears crow feathers to highlight her delight in the destructive ways of magic!" And, once again, getting into an argument with Wynne. That Aiden did not even draw Cleon's attention to it as they moved screamed how immune he had become to the arguing. "Hmm… perhaps I can win that bet Leliana, Oghren, and I made?"
"Wait until the spiders die." He glances around at the words, and is unnerved when he realizes the spiders are simply retreating. "I will deal with the arguers. This is not the place."
"Have fun, my friend!" He skips away, morbidly curious as to how Sten planned on stopping the argument. However, he is distracted by a laugh. Aiden's laugh, to be specific. Bright and loud, and in response to something Oghren said. He assumes it was Oghren. Cleon looks dreadfully confused, and annoyed, and poor Aiden tries so hard to sign, but shakes too much. It is a good laugh. It's a better smile. There are many things he would do, to see that again. He's not sure how comfortable he is by the thought.
"It's almost unfair how handsome he is," he hears Leliana complain. He turns his grin to her and she smiles wryly back. "I'm about ready to give up, though." He tilts his head curiously. "He's so dense. It's hard to keep up an interest in the face of that." He could admit to that frustration. But he'd never been one to give up halfway. "I think he won't get that I'm trying to flirt unless I strip naked."
"Oh, now that would be a sight!" he jokes. She mimes a punch to his shoulder, and he dramatically ducks. "But, good Leliana, giving up the fight? You're a bard!"
"Bards know when to retreat." She sighs, shaking her head. "Maybe later, I will try again, when he is not so distracted by the Blight." She glances at him. "That is, if you and he are not opposed to sharing."
"Mmm, a handsome lad and a beautiful woman? However would that displease me?" She laughs, and he laughs too. "But I don't think I'm having much more luck that you."
"You are having a bit more, though." He nods, conceding that point. Certainly, Aiden blushed more at his flirtations. "So, let's call this a temporary retreat, Zevran. We can talk again once the Blight is over."
"A conversation I am looking forward to." A screech nearly makes him jump out of his skin, and he gawks at the giant, and he did mean giant, spider that suddenly dropped down. "Oh, that is… not good."
"I hate spiders." Yes, he thinks he's gaining a phobia too. "I'll cover. You get to Cleon."
"On it." And daggers out, he strikes, sliding to his friend's side.
Might as well use the Crow training for something important, and what thing was more important than protecting those dear to your heart?
Author's note: And here's Zevran. Yes, I skipped Caridin's Cross. It's boring. Ortan thaig is… a little more interesting, but not much. So, have it in the interlude here!
I noticed while writing that I was having difficulties balancing Aiden-Zevran-Leliana, and felt that this was a disservice to the characters. And to the readers, who were getting what felt like only barely developed threads that would go nowhere. So, this is me stating that while this OT3 will likely be a thing in future sagas, this one will focus primarily on one branch: Aiden and Zevran. I hope you're not too disappointed. (also, tell me if you want/feel like other pairings and/or relationships should have a bit more focus/development. While I make no promises, I will gladly consider it!)
Next Chapter – Cleon in the Dead Trenches
