[ CLOSED ] Loose lips endanger children

[ombranera]

FORM: Sending Crystal
SENDER: Zevran Arainai
RECIPIENT: Mia Rutherford, Vivienne, Pel Ashra, Anders, Leliana, Alejandro
WHAT: SOMEONE TOLD
WHEN: After a mysterious delivery
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: Message is sent individually rather than as a group broadcast, consider this a series of private calls/conversations. There will be swearing

I have trusted you with my greatest treasure and secret and while, yes, I have come to the decision that I will be keeping Luciano and raising him myself here in Skyhold and that I am comfortable allowing people I trust come to know of him-

That does not mean I am comfortable of random envoys being sent to deliver knit goods and gold to my doorstep!

Now not only does the man sent them know, that envoy knows. An Orlesian envoy- who are not known for their discretion or integrity in the face of pain or bribery. I should know, I threatened their employer from them with little more than a glare. Whomever they might have spoken to on the way to Skyhold might know!

Comments

[ombranera]

Please do. It is high time Lucci met his cousin.

[ All of his charming self and his creepy little feet. ]

action.

[fightingale]

( People tend to move when they see Leliana coming. More often than not, however, she is quiet adept at moving without being truly seen or noticed, when she has the mind for it. Schmooples snuffles along after her, slower in his dotage, and she holds a parcel under her arm.

The knock is perhaps, by this point, recognisably her. )

action

[ombranera]

[ Zevran has taken the time to find a few snacks, preferred treats of Nugs, and sets a dish of them out on the ground- whereupon he spends the rest of his time protecting said dish from Doghren and Lucio both. They crawl about, attempt to snag a bite, and crawl away either laughing or panting happily. It is in this state Leliana will find him as he reaches up to open the door- dish of treats for Schmooples tucked into his elbow, one foot keeping Doghren away, one hand scooping up a wriggling infant. ]

You are so sneaky, yes you are. You are a sneaky little elf and I will have none of it- ah. Leliana.

[ All smiles turned up to her- even Lucci reaches with both hands for her hood. Or hair. or just her. ]

perma-action, even

[fightingale]

Zevran.

( If it seems a bizarre scene to be faced with she makes no clear indication of it, stepping inside as if there were not minor hints of bedlam unfolding at the hands of an infant and a canine, and Schmooples makes his way in as well, audibly snuffling now because he can smell something.

Leliana, for her part, looks at Lucci and Zevran and the plate of treats, and then back to Zevran with a slightly quirked brow, even now working the glove off one hand so she can wiggle her fingers over Lucci more freely. )

A bit over the top, don't you think?

( All this, although she is well aware she is saying that with a parcel wrapped in brown paper under her arm. )

[ombranera]

The treats?

[ Which he sets out, now, for Schmooples to enjoy. Dogrhen is tossed a scrap of jerky and a cube of cheese to tide her over and Luci, well. Luci latches on to Zevran's ear as he is lifted to reach for those wiggling fingers.

Ah. Parenthood. It is so, so rewarding. ]

Or the whole of it?

[fightingale]

The latter, ( Confirmed, and dryly at that. Still, there is a faint smile as she tickles her fingers over Lucci's belly and lightly taps his nose, before bringing the parcel forward. )

An exchange, perhaps?

( A nephew for a toy seems fair enough, no?

Inside the very practical and unassuming brown paper is a pale blue tissue paper, and within that there lies a mobile, curved bars of wood that lock and weave together, and are designed to slowly rotate in a breeze. From these hang little nugs, stars and moons, carefully made from different brightly coloured fabrics, and with a couple of metal bells that can be removed, attached by blue strings. )

It is riculous ( she says as she presents the parcel, because for all that she adores it, thinks it's so cute and colourful and delightful, there are--

Well. She is aware of its absurdities. ) You can remove elements, if they are bothersome.

[ombranera]

Ah, perfect.

[ The handoff is easy enough, Lucci deposited in Leliana's arms as he takes the gift. It is only after unwrapping it that the shape of it sets in- and rather than answer, rather than say much of anything, he moves to a small hook above the bed he'd used to hang lines for drying shirts and whatnot and strings the Mobile up from there instead. ]

It is beautiful, Leliana. [ A beat. ] And yes, it is ridiculous.

[ Another, longer beat, his smile growing wide. ]

Ridiculously awesome.

[fightingale]

( Ah, good. He is pleased, and so she is pleased, though her controlled not-smile is turned on Lucci rather than Zevran, and she gently tickles at the little one's belly.

With all the dignity befitting a Spymaster, somehow: ) I am glad we are in agreement. And how have you both been fairing, Zevran?

( uh but hi Schmooples is stuffing his face with cheese, and peering at Zevran expectantly, even as he continues eating. More cheese, tho? )

[ombranera]

Mia has been helping me adjust to him- she knows more of infants than I do. Now that I have decided to keep him it is a matter of rearranging the room and discreetly informing the Kestrels that we must childproof the plans for the Guild House.

[ Alejandro is still working on the crib but for now? Luciano does well sleeping with him.

Schmooples, of course, is given more cheese. Because he is somehow fond of this ridiculous creature. ]

And yourself?

[fightingale]

I am glad to hear it. ( Both that he has help, and that plans for Lucci to stay are, indeed, permanent. )

And I have been well enough.

( "Well enough" may be slightly simplistic, if not optimistic. Well enough had seen Morrigan kiss her, Leliana reject her, and Leliana sink further into her work in the way she is always sinking further into it. )

We are training a new raven. Merrill suggested the name 'Cawver Hawke,' but I am not certain it suits.*

( *a lie, because she decided to name a raven that the very moment Merrill suggested it. )

[ombranera]

Well enough?

[ Zevran hops down from the bed where he'd finished arranging the mobile, about to ask for more details when. That.

That name.

Imagining Carver's face when he hears it- when he hears who suggested it? Zevran loses a moment or two to helpless laughter. ]

Maker's breath- it suits. It suits very well and I think you know that.

[fightingale]

Well enough.

( Repeated, as though it might make it more true, more solid.

In place of such an assurance, Leliana does allow herself a very narrow smile at Zevran's laughter. )

He is a particularly determined little thing, I'll give him that.

[ombranera]

Does he look particularly sour? As though he has smelled something unpleasant or stepped in something he shouldn't? From what I heard of his namesake, that seemed to be the air about him.

[ Zevran, alas, would not know personally. But he does lose a little time to leaning back and watching Leliana hold Lucci. Now there is a woman that would do well with a child- when the whole saving and changing the world business is over. Far, far better suited to it than him and that twinge of thought rings for a moment before he attempts to set it aside.

He made his choice, the boy will stay.

Until-

Offering himself that out will not hold forever. Until someone safer comes along, until it becomes too dangerous, until, until, until. He is committed to this thing for...whatever reason. ]

I knew he would be fond of you.

[fightingale]

Mostly he seems to try and puff himself up to look as big as Feathras and Squawke. ( a sigh, though not a terribly serious one. ) Thus far he doesn't seem quite able to keep up with them, but perhaps in time.

( Poor Carver. Does nobody consider the suffering of poor Carver?
No, probably not.

AND ZEVRAN STOP BEING SAD go be a happy loser dad with dad jokes and idk whatever dads do
or, keep brooding and turn into Leliana )

Mm. ( She hums very quietly, absent mindedly bouncing Lucci just a little as she moves. ) He gets that lapse in judgment from his father, I think.

[ombranera]

If he is young he will grow into it, yes?

[ They are terribly clever creatures- perhaps it might be wise to raise a batch for the Kestrel's use? He would have to think on that later. It is less stressful than imagining the child and his life and how he will run a guild and raise a child and-

Is running away to Rivain to live in sin (the best sort of life) still not an option? ]

Leliana I have been fond of you since you told takes of getting spun sugar caught in your hair. It will take more than the choices you have made to make me less fond. Though I would thank you to not teach Lucci that trick, his curls are difficult enough to comb already.

[fightingale]

I suspect as much, yes. It is rather entertaining to see him get so indignant, however.

( Meanwhile, Leliana is a terribly terrible creature, go figure.

Listen, Zevran, Leliana wants to run off and live in sin as much as the next person, but they have shit to get done first. No running off and living in sin. Is the Sinquisition not enough?

Her sigh is one of Great Suffering. )

If only I could make you forget some of the stories I shared. I'm sure they make it much harder to take me seriously, when you know I couldn't be trusted with confectionary. ( And she looks down at Lucci. ) Listen to nothing he says. Nothing.

[ombranera]

Such are our bedtime stories. Tales from the Fifth Blight- and the strange people that fought it. A bard that cannot be trusted with spun sugar, an assassin that fell out of a window, a grey warden that trips into every trap, a drunk dwarf that tried to con a mabari into pulling a chariot.

[ Ridiculous people that fought an insane foe- and lived.

What better tale could there be than that? ]

[fightingale]

( Well, when you put it that way— )

It's a miracle the world survived.

[ombranera]

And thrived, for a short while. [ They did not do so bad. ] Relateable heroes. What a marvel, mm?

[fightingale]

A while.

( Echoed, though she cannot deny the horrors she has seen.

More the work of humanity than malevolent forces, sadly. )

Is that what we were?

[ombranera]

As a group- before we went our separate ways to thrive individually. [ of course. ] That is what everyone continues to tell me what I am despite my only contributions being I failed to die and I managed to keep bot Jonas and Alistair from dying a handful of times- no more or less than the rest of us. If that is all it takes to be a hero? So be it.

[fightingale]

You were certainly a romantic figure befitting many songs. Many of us were.
( Oghren may not have been romantic, and often closer to repugnant with his comments to herself, Wynne and Morrigan, but he was a hero as well... after a fashion.

She keeps playing with Lucci, idly, wiggling her fingers to offer entertainment as they speak. )

You lived well. People do not speak to me of the Blight.

( Maybe because you are scary and also an ass, Leliana, just a thought. )

[ombranera]

You were the one singing a few, if I recall correctly.

[ Some overwrought, some teasing, some sincere- it'd been a strange mix. One he'd fallen into happily for what else could he have possibly done?

Lucci remains attentive, grasping for her fingers and Zevran...finds his hands slipping to his sketchbook, flicking through to a new page. ]

Most of who speak to me are elves, to be honest. I am not always counted among Jonas' party save in the broadest sense. A footnote in history- which is not at all surprising.

[fightingale]

( She stills with his words. Not about the songs; she had performed many and written more and they had been a strange jumble of family.

No, she is still over his mention of himself as a footnote, as... inconsequential, almost.

Her expression is always restrained and difficult to read, but what had been more relaxed in Lucci's presence has faded into sombreness. )

I am sorry I have not done more.

( For mages, yes, but for elves as well. )

[ombranera]

It has actually been quite helpful, not to be recognized or noted. I am, after all, an assassin. The less noteworthy I am, the better.

[ Ever practical, is Zevran. ]

Except apparently when I am included and made a mockery of. Michel de Chevin made mention of plays? And caricatures. I shudder to think what they must have done.

[ If he is to be mentioned, let it be in brief or in truth- or not at all. This in between business suits him ill. ]

About what? You are but one woman, Leliana, with the whole of Thedas already on your plate.