"So that's ten silver for not getting the blush on the first circuit."

A nod. Zevran was clearly sulking.

"And five silver for not getting the blush on the second circuit."

Nod.

"And another ten for not getting the blush by the end of the watch."

Nod.

Oghren grinned. "Oh, cheer up, elf. I'm sure you gave it your best shot."

"I tried talking about -everything-, my hairy friend. All the things we discussed, and a few that I invented on the spur of the moment. The man is simply not human. Alistair would have exploded when we got to the bit about the blindfold."

"So what did Loghain do?"

"Raised an eyebrow."

"And the bit about the candle wax?"

"Raised two eyebrows."

"Hmm." Oghren was clearly deep in thought. "How about the ice cubes?"

Zevran sighed. "Said he didn't keep a primal mage in his back pocket, and doubted Morrigan would oblige."

"Point." The dwarf thought again. "And the olive oil?"

"Said that olive trees only grow in Orlais."

"So what do they use here instead?"

"Melted butter apparently."

"Ugh." Oghren pulled a face. "Totally the wrong sodding image. Did you try telling him about the chicken feathers?"

"Yes."

"And?"

"He didn't stop laughing for five minutes."

"Tough customer." The dwarf took a pull from his bottle. "Seriously sodding tough customer. You mean you didn't even get a reaction when you got to the bit about the handcuffs?"

Zevran pulled a face. "Said Fort Drakon was full of them, but he didn't fancy a trip back to Denerim to borrow them."

"Guess that rules out the floggers too."

"Indeed."

"Well, you tried. Want some of this?" He offered the bottle.

"No, my dwarven friend. I intend to head for my own tent with what remains of my self respect. Alistair clearly is not representative of Ferelden men in general." He pulled back the tent flap. "I suppose for our lovely Warden's sake, I should be grateful that they are not all like Alistair."

As he vanished, Oghren raised his bottle and toasted the shadows.

"Loghain Mac Tir, I sodding salute you. Stone face, and stone balls to match, and you've won me twenty five silver." He thought about it for a minute. "But for the bloody Warden's sake, I hope you were taking some notes."

Author's note. Zevran and Oghren clearly hadn't quite finished the conversation in one chapter. Another muse hijack :)