A/N: One word: Pun! Growing tired of the 'doom & gloom' of the previous chapters, so falling back on random frivolity for a change of pace. Bonus cookies to ayone who catches the barley reference before reading the last few lines.

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Lost In Translation

Or: "On importance of proper enunciation and why you should be extra careful when phrasing things to the Warden-Commander, especially those she does not want to hear"

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The Wardens had commandeered the chamber in such an easy and off-handed fashion that no one even noticed when it happened. First Oghren claimed his favorite drinking spot at the far end of the hall, away from the hearth and next to the caskets piled up on one side of the door leading to the small inner courtyard with the herb garden. Then the Commander started bringing her meals there and took posession of the only cushioned chair at the long table, across from the hearth and closer to Oghren. Bandit staked his claim under the table next to the Commander's chair: a perfect spot from which he could watch both the main door and the side one. He'd been especially interested in the side one becausee that was where the food came in from, carried in by either one of the cook maids or, sometimes, the cook herself. Anders took up residence across the Commander with his back to the fireplace. Ser Pounce probably thought of the entire Keep as his own property but settled for the top of the table for preference, studiously digging his inquisitive muzzle into every dish laid down. Howe drifted in last, after their return from Amaranthine, and settled on the far end, some ways across Oghren and closest to the small door.

Oghren was the only real fixture in the room though, as he could reliably be found by his favorite beer barrels four times out of five. The others drifted in and out at all hours, though mealtimes were more likely than not to see them all bunched up, especially since both Anders and Howe developed raving appetites shortly after the group's latest escapade. Owing to that, mealtimes became an all-hours affair but at least that made Varel's job slightly easier whenever he needed to find the Wardens. Unless, of course, he was looking for the Commander who had, in the past five or six days since their return, developed an uncanny knack for avoiding him before he'd even start looking.

And thus it came as a surprise to precicely no one when fairly early in the morning the Commander burst into the mess hall like a rabbit who'd just heard the hounds, dashed across the room, jumped over a chair and grabbed Oghren's braided mustache.

"Hide me!"

Oghren blinked. "Ehrm…"

The elf threw a panicked glance over her shoulder and then back at the dwarf. Oghren for his part tried to wriggle his mug in between the Commander's hands and his own facial hair she was tugging on.

"Hide. Me. Now." She said, accentuating every word with a small tug on Oghren's mustache. Oghren managed to take a gulp regardless. The Commander very nearly climbed into his lap.

"What's the problem, Commander?" As long as he was able to drink, he didn't mind having panicked elves scramble all over him.

The elf in question threw another glance at the door and very nearly climbed on Oghren's head. "He's after me!"

"Who's after you, Commander? The pants-eating monster?"

The elf became fluent in Drunk Oghren long ago. Oghren, in turn, was a right natural in Rambling Commander. Anders suspected the two languages were really one and the same.

"Worse!" She climbed over Oghren and scooted behind his chair, squatted down and quickly peeked around.

Bandit cocked his head with a questioning whine. Anders leaned on an elbow more comfortably. Ser Pounce took the opportunity to dive into a bowl of soup momentarily left untended.

"It's Varel!"

Only Howe remained uninterested in the show, sitting with one leg beneath him and fixing the feathers on a neat pile of arrows laid down on the floor before carefully placing each one back into the quiver.

"Oh." Oghren was eloquent as ever. "What is it this time?"

"I don't know! He keeps going on about some barley!"

Oghren nodded sagely. "Ah. Barley. Good thing, barley." He gave his mug a loving look before swigging from it again.

"And, and… He says there's a bunch of nobles coming 'round." She squirmed and peeked from behind the chair again.

Oghren grinned. "Juicy. Wanna borrow my axe?"

"Says they wanna curse me filty!"

Howe froze for a second before resuming his work. Bandit pulled his head back in a clear "what?" little motion. Anders blinked. Oghren paused with the mug halfway to his lips and considered.

"Who'd you piss off this time, Commander?"

"No one! I- Shit!"

Thewre was the sound of heavy footsteps aproaching the halls' main door. The elf bolted from her hidey-spot, cleared a low bench and scrambled onto the window sill.

"You didn't see me!" And then she jumped out.

Few moments later, the door opened and the Senechal of the Vigil Keep walked in, a slightly tired look on his face.

"Have you, prechance, seen the Commander?"

Three hands and one muzzle pointed to the open window in unision. Varel's eyes went a fraction wider as he strolled over with some amusement and took a look outside, just in time to see the Warden-Commander's back hightailing it behind the shed.

He shook his head and tried to supress a chuckle without much success. He sighed. "I suppose I better get going if I want to catch up." He headed back towards the door but paused as he opened them. "And I would like a word with the rest of you afterwards. So please don't run away: one chase a day is, I believe, quite enough."

The door closed behind the Senechal leaving the remaining Wardens to their own designs. Oghren resumed his drinking like nothing at all has happened. Howe still wasn't looking up. Anders exchanged a glance with Bandit and retrieved Ser Pounce from under the bowl he had managed to topple over himself.

"So…" He leaned back in his chair and looked around. "Anyone knows what that was all about?"

Oghren shrugged, not really caring one way or another. Howe lifted the last arrow from the floor and examined it closely.

"Swearing fealty."

Oghren paused and then spurted his drink with a pffft as he put two and two together. Anders chortled and got up.

"Well, I guess we better shine up for the occasion then. Only…" He paused on the way out and cocked his head to a side, frowning a bit. "Where does 'barley' fit in?"

Howe put the last arrow into the quiver, slung it over one shoulder and picked up his bow.

"Swearing oaths of fealty," he said and left the room.

Anders burst out laughing.

"This is going to be sooo rich."

Oghren belched. Anders grinned.

It was going to be rich indeed.