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mccoys-killer-queen · 2 years

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Concert Log: Seeing Lita Ford & Jack Russell's Great White

This one was at my usual venue and wasn't really one I was dying to see, but one I wanted to go to just for the hell off it bc I didn't have any concerts planned at the time. DISCLAIMER: this is NOT Great White. Jack Russell's Great White and Great White are TWO DIFFERENT BANDS. I know, I know.

I got there SUPER FREAKISHLY EARLY. As in doors opened at 7pm and I got there at 12:30.

my reasoning for this was because last time I was at this venue, I got there at 1:15 and the very first couple in the line was already there, so I figured if I got there at 12:30 and got lunch at the restaurant first, I'd be outside in line by 1:15.

No one else showed up until 2:45.

No one else showed up in the GA line until 4pm.

It was very cold. It's was extremely uncomfortably cold. It was 50F degrees (which is perfect weather for this time of year) but this venue is on top of a fucking mountain. So it felt like 30F instead. And it was WINDY. Convert to celsius if you must but it felt very much below freezing it was BAD.

So the first couple to show up in the VIP line (there are 2 lines- general ((GA)) and venue VIP) brought chairs and while the man was getting food the lady invited me to sit with her bc it was cold ;-;

gonna refer to her as Cherry she's like 50

Cherry and I got along real well and she overshared so much about her relationship with her boyfriend (the guy who she came with) and how he's not her cup of tea and how they haven't had sex bc "he's a fuckup", and that their 2 friends from Florida who are engaged to each other were flying in for the show to meet up with them and how she's in love with the friend who's engaged

it was a lot to unpack

at one point Cherry and I were talking about how we only love Nikki Sixx out of the Crue guys, and she said how she's spoken with Lita a few times and at one point she said "i gotta ask... about Nikki... is he... good?" to which Lita allegedly replied "...enh?" and we were both grieving going "NOOOOO"

time went faster and it actually felt a bit warmer by the time the line built up and people started talking too political it was fun :3)

I also met a 12 year old who really put it into perspective for me how fucked up covid was/is bc she said "THIS STARTED FOR ME WHEN I WAS IN 3RD GRADE. I AM NOW IN 7TH GRADE. AND WE ARE LEARNING THINGS AT A 4TH GRADE LEVEL BECAUSE THEY DIDN'T KNOW HOW TO TEACH US" and how they do active shooter drills 6 times a month and how they took away the school's library and maybe this generation is gonna be ok after all bc you go sweetie go tf off at ur world KNOW what's wrong and what's fucked up

the guy in line right behind me wouldn't stop talking to me and I guess he was alright he also kept calling me skinny? I was in layers g_g

everyone kept complimenting my jacket with all the patches on it :D

right before i got let inside someone saw my outfit and said "it's like the 70s all over again" (I was in my jacket and bellbottoms)

doors opened a half an hour late bc Jack Russell's band was having problems with an amp :'3

I was first inside for GA so it was worth it

I was the most center I've ever been in this venue

Cherry was on my left and the man she's in love with was on my right and they were talking secretly and talking shit about her bf around me and i was there like :) "I know things"

poor Jack Russell he can hardly move but he still sounds REALLY good

like he was shaking the entire time and didn't move around (he prefaced the show with "sorry if I'm not moving around as much, I have to have back surgery soon so I gotta stay put")

for half the set he was looking off to the side at the techs literally like -._-. and trying to signal them directions bc they were having problems with the sound

Jack saying "you remember the 80s?", me going "HELL YEAH" and Cherry dying

"If you missed the 80s- you MISSED OUT" "DON'T REMIND ME"

his guitarist playing to me numerous times and DIDN'T GIVE ME A PICK >:C

Lita Ford standing on the side of the stage watching his set

her hair is half pink we stan

Jack saying "after us we have the queen of rock Lita Ford" and everyone up front turning and screaming at her offstage and she was like :3D "oops"

Jack's other guitarist looks like a Slash and Gene Simmons lovechild

Jack introducing Rock Me by saying "This next song is one that I'm very proud to have been involved in the writing of. It's a- ah fuck, you'll know what it is."

During Once Bitten Twice Shy, Cherry pointed at me and said "my best friend told me you're the-" and I'm like wha srtgonisrogtintrh

He walks with a cane when he's not onstage

He also sat off to the side and watched Lita's set it was adorable how they both did that for each other

after their set, the tour manager gave Cherry a setlist and said "send me that pic of Lita off to the side and I'll get Jack to sign this real quick- is that okay?" so she said yeah and he went back for a minute and came back out with 5 or 6 copies of the setlist, each signed by Jack and started handing them out to people at the front so I have Jack Russell's autograph now?? okay??

Lita was in platform boots what a mcfuckin queen

also i wasn't expecting her to be so tiny??? idk how tall she is *googles it* she's 5'5 but she looks so petite?? she's just skin and bones and boobs

I was in contact with her PR guy in the summer and asked him for a photo pass and he said "technically i can't give you one since you don't work for a publication, but if I have a VIP custom guitar going onstage that night, I could probably just sneak you in. Get back to be in October closer to the show and I'll let you know." I messaged him last week. No response. Ghosted me.

I'm thinking "oh well what are the odds someone HERE is actually gonna purchase this ultimate VIP custom guitar packag-" two. Two people did. I could've gotten in with my camera. I'm still salty.

Lita's Stoli's Vodka guitar is so cool

I want Bobby Rock to choke me just look him up you'll see

Lita telling the story of the previous night how they were on a 90 mile drive from Nashville and "we were all,,,, drinkin,,,,....... and stuff."

Her playing one of the custom guitars and showing it to the crowd going "so if you can't tell, that's me on the front"

*flips it over* "and that's my butt."

(it was indeed her butt)

she also did a cover of Only Women Bleed by Alice Cooper but it was just her singing and Patrick playing and I almost cried it was so beautiful

Patrick Kessinton is very talented and it's VERY attractive. He's like if Nikki Sixx looked more metal

he sang Ozzy's parts on Close My Eyes Forever and HOOOOOO

I got to talk to him after (will elaborate)

Cherry had a wedding gift for Patrick since his wedding is in a few weeks, and also had a late birthday present for Lita so she was gonna go meet her after the show since they're acquainted, and I was gonna go with them obvi bc I always wait at the busses too

after the show i said i was gonna get a shirt and a drink and meet them out back

THEY ONLY HAD 3XL SHIRTS LEFT AFTER THE SHOW SO I HAD TO GET ONE AND IT'S LITERALLY A NIGHTGOWN ON ME RTGORTRGTRGERG

I went outside and wandered around for a few minutes and didn't see Cherry or anyone else waiting by the artist exit so snuck back inside (which you're kinda not supposed to do)

and while I was looking for Cherry I noticed Patrick was right next to me talking to friends and i was like "omg i didn't know you were right there hi :DD" (I did know)

i told him how awesome he was and all and he said "I think i tried throwing you a pick, did you get it?" and I pulled it out and was like yeah :DDD

We briefly chatted together (I kinda interrupted a convo with them all ngl but it was worth it)

security guy: *comes over* (@ patrick) are they all with you?

Patrick: yeah, yeah

me, internally: heh :3 I'm with him

EVEN PATRICK ASKED ME IF I WATCHED THE FUCKIN DAHMER SHOW AND I WAS LIKE NOPE NOPE NOPE NOPE

the one roadie/staff/security guy complimented my jacket as Patrick and I went separate ways

I didn't see Cherry again but I'm going BACK to this venue on Saturday and she said she was gonna be there too so...

Bonus:

everyone I meet at concerts is always so happy for me ;-; happy I'm doing this myself and such

on the way home I stg i saw a ghost twice won't elaborate

on the way home: *hotel california playing from car stereo in the middle of the night on a completely deserted road in the woods* me: *drives over a HUUUUUUUUGE patch of blood on the road that suddenly appeared right in front of me* me: :D I'm in danger

me: is that a fucking deer (it is a ton of political signs on the side of the road that look like a deer from afar)

#concerts #concert #concert log #lita ford #jack russell #great white

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wild-houseplant · 2 years

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Forgive the quiet folks, but I gone and got the fourth chapter of this bugger up! Hope you bunch are having a gorgeous day :D :D

Chapter 4: Great Unmet Expectations

In which Zevran continues to neither die nor be mistreated

CW for mention of suicide, hunting animals

§§

It struck Zevran as something of a double standard, this willingness to kill his marks but not himself. Many of them had done objectively worse things than he, and still he expertly gifted them an unpretentious, quick end. Deprivation of life was penalty enough; there was no need to stain his own character with cruelty. And really, any other assassin worth their salt would have done the same with him now.

But there were no other assassins here, and he wasn’t one for self-charity.

Instead, as squelching footsteps sounded from outside the tent, Zevran wore a bitter smirk and forced himself to lie still under the blanket as his own well-deserved, horrifically amateurish end approached.

It was still dark outside. When the rain had ceased was unclear, and how long he had actually slept was a question for the ages as well. At a guess, not long, but the abrupt awakening had given him a surge of energy, which was a boon. Dying while bone-tired would have made it harder to smile provocatively while the light finished extinguishing.

The tramping stopped, and silence reigned again.

And reigned.

Zevran drummed his fingers on his chin. If this executioner didn’t slop their way over soon, the rush would wear off and he would be forced to enter the next life half-asleep.

When five whole minutes had passed without any physical demise to speak of, Zevran sat up and cracked the tent flap open. The campsite’s patchy grass was drowning in gleaming moonsilver puddles, and in the middle of the marsh stood the Templar, gawping up at the rash of stars as he demolished a fist-sized block of cheese.

Shrugging to himself, Zevran closed the flap and lay back down. Naturally, his death would not take precedence over cheese or skygazing. Zevran the equal. Had Rhodri noted that midnight snacks came before his murder on that schedule she wrote him?

His insides somersaulted as he glanced at the crumpled piece of paper beside him.

He went back to sleep.

By the sixth false start, the sun was rising and, to his eternal surprise, so was Zevran. And! The usual aches and woefully underslept status notwithstanding, he was healthy and notably un-poisoned. It was hard not to wonder when this death business would actually happen.

Feeling a little braver and a lot more wry, Zevran re-attempted scanning the schedule for hints of an answer. He got as far as unfolding it before his stomach began climbing his throat, and pocketed it with a sigh. Ah, well. The best kind of prize was a surprise, so they said. Especially if the prize was continued living, and the chances of such a reward seemed to be growing.

The lightness spreading in his chest grew impossible to ignore as Zevran palpated his torso. If things like hunger and amateur astronomy waylaid these people, killing him really was low priority. In which case, there was nothing to do but go out there and give them more reasons to keep it that way.

Making a mental note to stock up on cheese at the first opportunity, he pulled on his boots and left the tent with a spring in his step. The parched ground had gorged itself overnight on the downpour, leaving the morning earth tender and loamy, and thin, toothless clouds hung listlessly in the clear sky.

Another nice day? The Fereldans won’t know what to do with themselves.

He snickered inwardly and looked over at the Warden, who had apparently been the source of his last wake-up call. She sat with her back to him, throwing kindling into the dead firepit with one hand and eating bread with the other. Jeppe, who had just departed a large, stained tent, trotted over to her and knocked his head into her hand.

Chuckling, Rhodri dumped the tinder, tore her bread in two, and held out half to the dog.

“Hello, my handsome fellow,” she crooned, ready with more warm praise when he downed the offering in one mouthful. He got the other half for his trouble, and made that disappear with the same alacrity. “Time for your breakfast, yes?”

Jeppe’s tail assailed the ground with a dull whump-whump-whump, which apparently settled the matter. There was no right time to go over, but it had to be before she got up and caught the assassin staring at her.

Zevran cleared his throat. “You rise early, my Grey Warden,” he remarked, strolling over with as leisurely a pace as a curated walk permitted.

He nearly sprained a muscle hiding his shock as the Warden caught sight of him and broke into a broad smile. There was no excuse to look so pleased given the time of day and the person approaching her, and yet she was looking at him like he was a birthday present. Even the dog looked happy to see him.

“Zevran! Good morning! How was your night?”

It didn’t do to dampen his life-preserver’s spirits, and certainly, her donation of the tent had made his sleepless night much more bearable. He exaggerated a delighted ‘Mmm!’

“My dear, nobody has the right to complain after spending the evening in such warm, dry lodgings!”

A beaming Rhodri's chest puffed at the remark, and the only reason that seemed to warrant it was that she took compliments about her tent personally. Her robes were capacious enough to repurpose as a tent; perhaps she wore the canvas when the black set needed laundering.

“It is warm and dry, isn’t it?” She nodded happily. “I must admit, I'm very pleased with how the spell turned out.”

‘The spell.’ Zevran’s fingertips shouldn’t have gone numb. He had survived whatever her magic was supposed to do this time around, and there was another half-day to prepare reasons not to sleep in the tent this evening. It was too early for panic.

Oh, but what if it was something slow-acting? The mages were all locked away in their towers, away from the rest of society practicing Maker-knows-what. A spell that gradually roasted or desiccated him wasn’t impossible. Maybe.

Nagale! Say something.

“Hmm?” His smile clicked smoothly into place. “Spell, you say?”

Rhodri nodded. “I experiment in my free time, you see, and Fereldan winters get harsh, so I wanted to see if I could insulate the tent. Took ten tries to get the right combination of grease and dry heat to properly seal and thicken it.” She paused and gave him a crooked grin. “The seventh attempt almost set the bloody thing on fire-- well, actually, it did for a moment, but it was worth it!”

The Warden pointed at the tent, which the daylight revealed to have a large, circular scorch mark on the top. “See? Trial and error. Or trial by fire, you might say.” She laughed heartily at her own joke.

“Anyway, time to feed the dog. You can come along if you like, or if you’d prefer a quiet breakfast before these noisy individuals wake up,” she gestured at the occupied tents, “the food stores are right here by the fire.”

More games, and this round was even worse than last night's. Leave it to him to decide how to inadvertently seal his fate. What joy. Nobody hailing from the birthplace of slavery could be unaware that decision-making was not in the purview of people like him.

And yet there Rhodri was, blithely smiling as though it were common courtesy to put her inferiors on the spot like this.

"Or, of course," she added, "if you won’t vomit or faint from watching a dog hunt a rabbit or stoat, you can take some food and join us.”

Something was about to leave Zevran’s body. Whether it was his brain, his viscera, or that mysterious thing separating the living from the dead was unclear, but it was indisputably unsealing itself from him and preparing for egress.

His fingers suddenly re-entered his awareness as a cold, wet thing brushed against them. Zevran glanced down in time to see the mabari nosing his knuckles and staring up at him with doleful, dinner-plate eyes.

Zevran took the reproachful look in until he could no longer stand it– admittedly a very short period– before turning to Rhodri.

“Apologies,” she said, the asymmetry in her smile intensifying. “I’m not one for manipulative behaviour, myself, but our Jeppe isn’t above making the big eyes when he wants something.”

“Mmm,” Zevran mumbled. “And… ah, what is it he wants?”

You, obviously. And the stoat, if he still has room for it.

The Warden chuckled. “Well, I’m not very wise to dog communication, but I’d say he’d like you to come with us. He loves company, and it seems he’s quite fond of you already.”

Zevran couldn’t help but laugh at the madness of it all, but the dog had apparently taken it as confirmation of attendance, his furiously wagging tail making a half-circle in the dirt now.

“Well,” Zevran said only half-jokingly, “who am I to refuse the hairy fellow? I had better come with you.”

The quiver that took over Jeppe’s body was reminiscent of the way the lid of an explosives barrel rattled before combustion sent it into the heavens– and, according to Zevran’s legs, the reaction warranted taking a step back.

“Ah, bonus!” Rhodri’s hands tapped her thighs. “We’ll wait for you to get some food, and then we can go, yes?”

With a thin smile, he made for the red cloth spread out on the ground and almost spilling over with rations. More loaves of the heavy, dark bread made up the bulk, along with several blocks of cheese (one of which was missing a suspiciously large chunk); some dried meats he couldn’t stomach this early; and a dark green bundle, still tied up.

Zevran took the blunt knife sitting by the bread and hacked off a small slice, and as he fought with himself over whether or not to take a little cheese too, Rhodri mumbled something about 'might have some more, myself.'

He set the knife down and moved away, silently cursing the squandered chance to take the cheese.

The Warden drew up beside him, her eyes going onto his woeful sliver of bread. He quickly took a bite of one corner and immersed himself in appraising the foliage of a nearby tree.

“Zevran?”

He pinned his smile back on. “Mmm?”

“Do you like cheese?”

“I do, yes.”

Rhodri nodded, not looking up from where she squatted, hacking off a fifth slice of bread. “Have you ever tried it with this sort of bread?”

“... I have not.”

“It isn’t as light as the bread in the North, but it has an interesting sweetness that balances out the salt in the cheese.” She rose with a stack of open-face cheese sandwiches and carefully set half on top of his own slice. “Give it a try, tell me what you think. My hands are clean, don’t worry.”

His rushed attempt to sample the bread and deliver the requested review stuttered as she turned and walked away. Zevran balanced eating and catching up to seamlessly fall into step next to her. Along with the dog, the three passed through the thicket and pulled up in a large, open field.

When Zevran was able to take a moment to pay attention to the food in his mouth, he found the flavour quite pleasing.

“You were right,” he offered carefully. “The bread and cheese, they pair nicely.”

“Mmm,” Rhodri nodded. “It's different, but I find it tastes better the more you get used to it." She nudged Jeppe with her knee and pointed ahead. "Start looking, hollix."

The dog didn't need to be told twice, cantering away into the dewy grass with ears up and eyes wide.

"I could help hunt a rabbit or something such if you wish, my Grey Warden," Zevran said in what he hoped was not too eager a tone. "You'll find I am very proficient with a bow. Quick and easy for all concerned."

She answered with a chuckle that set his teeth on edge– an unwarranted reaction on his part; he had hardly shown himself to be an adept fighter.

"No need for that, but thank you for offering. We–"

He nearly dropped his last cheese sandwich as Rhodri’s hand shot onto his shoulder. Out in the green, the dog was similarly statuesque, one paw hanging in-air as he leaned forward like a condemned house.

The Warden inched closer to Zevran. "He's found a rabbit," she whispered. Her free hand materialised from the other side of her shadowy body, and with one flick of the wrist, a small ice figure burst into being in the distance. Jeppe let out a victorious bark and bolted over to it.

“There!” The smile Rhodri gave Zevran was interrupted when her eyes widened. She gasped with comical loudness, tearing her hands off him like he was a hot coal.

“My apologies for invading your personal space like that,” she said quickly. “I’m used to playing with the others, and I didn’t even ask if you were comfortable with it.”

He plastered a lazy, untroubled smile on his face. “It is no tragedy, my Warden. You are welcome to invade my space as much as you please.”

Relief flooded her features, and she let out a soft ‘hah.’ “You’ve got a fun turn of phrase. I think we’re going to get along famously.”

“I certainly hope so.”

At that moment, Jeppe, who had been barreling back to them at top speed with the rabbit in his mouth, came to a near-screeching halt in front of Rhodri and Zevran, only narrowly missing a collision with their legs.

“Ah, there you are!” she said jovially. The rabbit was frozen solid, caught mid-run. Zevran looked on as Jeppe set it on the ground at her feet, watching up at Rhodri expectantly.

With a nod, the Warden squatted down and ran a splayed hand back and forth in the air over the rabbit. It looked for all the world like she was trying to stroke the damned thing but was being repelled by a tiny, invisible barrier. Within seconds, steam billowed off its body as the ice melted away, and in a few moments more, it lay lax with a dry pelt.

And still no lights or ethereal glowing fingertips. A little lacklustre, to say the least.

Rhodri, however, looked quite pleased as she got to her feet.

“Is that warm enough?” she asked the dog, who took the rabbit in his mouth again.

Wag-wag-wag.

“Good. Now, I’m warning you, my friend,” she said, gently waving a finger, “if I find out you've only eaten half of it and stashed the other half in Morrigan’s bag again, there will be trouble! I swear most of my coin is going on replacement underwear these days.”

Zevran bit back a cackle at the thought of the cantankerous, snaky witch finding half a carcass amongst her unmentionables. The dog, on the other hand, hung his head, giving his tail a small, guilty wag.

Rhodri rolled her eyes and clapped his powerful withers. “Well please, I’d hate to delay you. Go and scoff that down before the others complain you’ve ruined their breakfast, yes?”

He let out a joyful, muffled bark and sped back to the camp with the visible parts of the rabbit flailing in the wind.

The Warden thrust her hands into her pockets as they strolled back to the camp together.

“We do this every morning,” she said to him. “Jeppe’s strong, but the rabbits are so fast. The first time he hunted one, he only managed to bite its leg." She winced and shook her head. "The poor thing, it was screaming and limping… awful, just awful. I froze it as quickly as I could, of course, but it was one bad death too many. Now I only let Jeppe point at the animal, and then I handle the rest.”

Zevran nodded approvingly, feeling his breakfast settle. “Mmm. A good, clean kill. You are one after my own heart, my Warden!”

“Hah. That’s quite a figure of speech for a former assassin to use.”

He conceded with a laugh. “You make a point there. Though even if you were after my heart in the literal sense, in my profession, it does not do to fear death. Not when we have so many brushes with it. In difficult assignments, success is a near miss.”

“I can imagine. Though with that said, with us, your chances of dying are likely lower than they ever have been. Odd sort of change to circumstances, really.”

Zevran gave a wry hum. “That is an apt way of putting it.”

“Well, give yourself some time to settle into the new normal and see how you fare. Ah, and speaking of normal, did you get a chance to look at the schedule? Any thoughts?”

A wave of gooseflesh broke out over him. “Oh. Ah…”

“It’s all right if you haven’t read it yet,” she added quickly. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. In my experience, it makes things a little easier by taking the guesswork out of the day, but different things work for different people.”

He forced a smile. “Just so, my dear.”

She glanced at him and looked away again. “I do wonder if I might ask a rather personal question, though. You’re welcome to say no, of course.”

Zevran’s mouth curved into a delighted grin. “Oh, this should be good. Let me guess: you wish to know what colour my smallclothes are?”

A stomach-twisting moment passed when the Warden regarded him blankly before throwing her head back and laughing.

“Ah, Zevran! Not that kind of personal.” She beamed with her shark mouth and touched their elbows in the weakest nudge he had ever received. “No, I was going to ask: did– and again, you’re not obliged to answer– did the Crows ever teach you to read? If that’s holding you back, we can easily fix that.”

“The Crows had no need to,” Zevran replied off-handedly. “I had taught myself to read long before I came to them.” He might have earned some sympathy by adding he had cut his teeth on old newspapers salvaged by one of the prostitutes in the brothel. When the other outcome was disgust, though, the luck of the day seemed a little too fragile to warrant putting it to the test.

He volunteered nothing more.

The Warden accepted his meagre offering with a nod, and they walked in silence until they were back at the camp. Jeppe, who lay prostrate by the firepit, barely looked up from his half-eaten rabbit.

"Well, Zevran,” Rhodri said, “if you don’t mind, I’ll need access to the tent in the morning and at night to get some things. Leliana’s not a light traveller, you see, so there's no room for my things in hers.”

If there was a reason she acted like he was doing her a favour letting her into her own tent, Zevran didn’t know it. She was playing a long game if this was mockery, and if it was Circle manners, Maker help any elven mage who left the Tower expecting that sort of indulgence.

“Of course.”

She smiled. “Excellent. Well, if I may, I’d like to go in there now and take today’s things.”

His shoulders drew up in a taxing half-shrug. “Go in whenever you wish, my Warden. It is your tent, after all.”

Rhodri shook her head. “For now, it’s yours. Don��t worry, when I get it back I’ll make you knock before entering and everything.” She gave him a genial wink and, after resurrecting the campfire with a wave, wandered away to the tent.

Zevran threw a small piece of wood into the fire and sat down on the ground, leaning his back and head against the stump behind him. The feeding flames rumbled softly, and his body was pleasantly warm despite the chill of the morning. His restless night settled its entire weight on his eyelids, and he let them close-- merely to rest them-- for half a moment.

He was roused into what turned out to be wakefulness by a small squeeze to the top of his boot and a gentle voice calling his name.

“Zevran. Zevran .”

Alarm stifled Zevran’s groan and he forced himself to sit up straight as fast as he could, stopping when he felt his foot get squeezed again. His eyes opened to see the Warden standing between him and the fire, which now had a large pot sitting over it. She was smiling and holding a wooden cup.

"Easy does it. Not a morning person, I see! Drink this tea, it should wake you up a little." Rhodri put the drink down beside him. “Be careful, it's freshly-boiled."

Mortified, he mumbled a ‘thank you, my Warden,’ took the cup, and smelled it. The steamy richness of steeped leaves infiltrated his nostrils, and after three long, tea-less months, it was hugely tempting to simply drink it.

Of course, he would have been a fool to do it when he had slept (slept!) during its preparation. Zevran contented himself with warming his hands on the cup for the time being, willing himself to hurry up and get his wits about him.

A few moments later, Alistair stumbled out of his tent with his short hair pointing in all directions and his sleeping shirt on backwards. He groaned a hello that prompted a hearty laugh from Rhodri as he shambled over to her, arm outstretched.

"Sit down first, Al," she requested. When he had complied, she rewarded him with his own beverage.

"You're a lifesaver, Rhod," Alistair said into the cup. He blew, took a large gulp, and hummed contentedly. "That's great."

Rhodri settled down between the two of them.

"Too hot? I can cool it down for you, if you like," she pointed at Zevran’s untouched tea.

“You gave him something to drink and you think he’s just going to down it?” Alistair creaked out a laugh. “Isn’t poisoning people a part of the assassin's routine?”

Rhodri’s mouth made an ‘o’. “I didn't think of it. Ah, it must be unnerving to be simply given something after years of having to check food and drinks!” She smiled at Zevran contritely. “I'm sorry. Should I try some of your tea to prove it’s safe?”

Zevran concealed his surprise with a small chuckle. “I can think of more creative ways to share what is in our mouths, my Warden, but do sample the tea if you wish.”

He held his cup out for her to take, ignoring Alistair’s scowl, and his eyebrow quirked as Rhodri sipped at it and her face scrunched up. She wasn’t foolish enough to poison his drink and then sip it to prove it was fine, surely.

“Ugh. Revolting, but definitely safe.” She handed the cup back and shuddered. “I’m sure I have no idea how anyone can drink it, but to each their own.”

“I can’t believe you hate tea,” Alistair murmured, shaking his head.

Ah. “And yet you are the one who makes it,” Zevran observed in bleary amusement.

Rhodri smiled. “Mmm. Most of my friends and students in the Tower weren’t early risers, so I tempted them out of bed with sweet tea.” She gestured to her left, where the green cloth from the food pile lay open to reveal a box of tea leaves and another with sugar. “Seems to work for everyone here, too. If you find it helps, I’ll have some ready for you of a morning.”

Had he been any less sleep-addled or tempted by the smell of the tea, his wariness would have been enough to deter him from trying it. As it was, though, his urges won out.

He gingerly took a sip. Warmth seeped down his throat to pool at the bottom of his stomach, and with nothing more to lose from here, he allowed himself to make a pleased sigh.

“Sounds like you approve,” Rhodri grinned. “Good to know. Well, I'd best continue with the rounds, if you’ll excuse me. Morrigan can be snippy if her tea comes late.”

When she had poured another cup and walked out of earshot, Alistair snorted.

"'Can be snippy,'” Zevran heard him echo in a mutter. “The day that heartless shrew is anything less than snippy, I’ll dance the Remigold in her rags.”

Erring on the side of caution, Zevran stifled his snort and engrossed himself in drinking his tea. Now was the time to think of the day ahead, but how could he ask when he hadn’t even looked at that damned schedule? It burned in his pocket like unspent money, and when Alistair left the campfire to shamble away into the bushes, he huffed in defeat and took it out, folding the paper so that only the first three lines were readable.

His eyes ached as he forced them down onto the page and re-read the heading. There was no reason for this to be so difficult; ‘Schedule for Zevran’ was a perfectly serviceable name for a document. Swallowing hard to preempt his querulous stomach, he sped through the next lines.

1. Wake up, attend to bodily needs, get dressed. If people are still asleep when we start breakfast, I knock on their tent and wake them up 2. Eat breakfast, discuss the day ahead. 3. Pack up camp, begin travelling. Kill darkspawn as necessary, discuss new skills, make conversation if desired. Take fluids throughout. Remarkably tame for a death forecast. He edged the paper down. 4. Brief stop, attend to bodily needs, eat.

5. Continue travelling. Kill darkspawn as necessary, discuss new skills, make conversation if desired. Take fluids throughout. He frowned. Tameness now verged on boring; a planned murder would at least break up the mundanity. They weren’t even giving him intensive work!

The nighttime plans mentioned nothing more than setting up camp, eating, and ‘making conversation if desired’, before ‘attending to bodily needs’ and going to sleep, and it was outrageous. The page opened completely when his thumb departed the paper, and a jitter passed through him as he found another small, scratchy paragraph.

When we reach a town, we will stay at an inn instead of making camp. They will provide our food, and before we move on, we will buy more from the market to take with us. Our communal food is for everyone to eat whenever they wish; this includes you. You are welcome to ask me questions or come to me any time. Please tell me or someone else if you are going somewhere.

Adjust this as needed. You are doing very well.

From Rhodri “Oh, good! You’re looking at the schedule!”

Zevran stiffened his body to offset the startle, and looked up at the approaching Warden. She pointed at the paper.

“Do you have any thoughts or questions about it?”

He gave her a sultry smile. “Well, now. I noticed this plan has an awful lot of free time in it. No mention of what time I should warm your bed, or fend off unwanted suitors! Did I tell you about my knowledge of twelve different massage techniques! Think of the fun we could have with that, no?”

The Warden shrugged. “Sometimes we work late, and fighting darkspawn is an intensive task. Later on, you’ll need to help guard the camp overnight. I’d say make the most of the downtime where you can. You certainly don’t have to massage people or warm their beds.” She rubbed her chin, adding with a droll laugh, “If the unwanted suitor you mentioned is a darkspawn, though, it’s all hands on deck.”

Zevran snorted and waggled his eyebrows. “My hands are at your disposal, my lovely Warden.”

“Oh! I… ah…” Rhodri wiped a hand over her mouth. “I won’t be disposing of your hands. Forced amputation sounds… awful, not to mention impractical.”

He could have choked. “... Just so. Forgive me, perhaps that is not an expression they use here. I simply meant my hands are for you to use as you wish.”

“Ah! Of course, a figure of speech.” She laughed breathlessly and shook her head. “But no, only you can decide how your hands are used.”

Zevran smiled cautiously. There wasn’t an answer he could think of that wouldn’t lead to some sort of protest from her. He settled for shooting her his most lascivious wink, flexing his fingers, and thanking the Maker he still had some tea to sip on.

As the minutes passed and the party members drifted over to the fire, they were beamed at and greeted like the Warden hadn’t seen them in months. Her enquiry on how their night had been was repeated to each person verbatim, as though it were a foreign phrase she had memorised, and she watched them intently while they answered. It was planned to a degree that he had only seen in plays, and it was hard not to wonder what Rhodri’s own schedule looked like if her life was this regimented. Would it even fit in her pocket?

If the others were bothered by this predictability, though, they didn’t show it. If anything, they were at ease with it and responded as though there were no pattern to her at all. Perhaps they were too sleepy to care.

Half an hour later, camp was broken and the party was leaving. Zevran dawdled somewhere in the middle of the crowd, arranging and rearranging the contents of his pack as he tracked the others’ movements in his periphery. It had struck him as prudent to keep to the Warden’s left, if she was such a creature of habit, though if it turned out he had taken Sten or Jeppe’s pace…

An answer was slow coming. Sten had dropped somewhere to the back in short order, but Jeppe was carrying a stick that wanted throwing and hadn’t a care for who did it, so long as they obliged. After several rejections from less obliging party members, Leliana was the one to acquiesce. Once it was clear that Jeppe was going to harass her for repeated performances, Zevran weaved his way past a glowering Alistair and announced his approach to the Warden by adjusting his pack with all the noise he could manage.

“And so where are we headed, my Warden?” he asked her airily as he fell into step beside her.

Rhodri did a double-take and touched a hand to her forehead. “Ah! I can’t believe I forgot to tell you our itinerary. I’m sorry, Zevran.” She rolled her eyes playfully. “We’re going to Redcliffe to collect troops to aid us in fighting the darkspawn.”

“Oh? That seems an enormous task. From the rumours I have heard, not many are keen to square off with those beasts.”

“Hah. I’m sure of it. Unfortunately, they don’t have much choice. The Wardens are entitled to aid in urgent times, and as this is a Blight, well…” she shrugged. “Anyway, though, we’ll be approaching one Arl Eamon for assistance. Alistair assures me he is a good sort and can supply us with quite some people."

Now that was odd. How would a fledgling Templar know such an influential figure? Too curious not to, Zevran turned back and stole a glance at Alistair. To his surprise, Alistair's face was bright red and he almost looked… oho, was that guilt on his face?

He faced front again before Alistair could catch him mid-appraisal, biting the inside of his lip. He would have bet all the coin he had (such as it was) that Alistair had a very intimate knowledge of this fellow. Perhaps he was the Arl's illegitimate son, or if they were not related, his secret lover! Oh, this was far too juicy for so early in the day.

Zevran gave a nondescript smile and nod and turned his attention to the road, his mind pleasantly empty. Death loomed overhead, as it was wont to do, but at that moment it was at arm's length, and that was as fair a deal as any in this day and age.

#HWWT #At bloody last #Sorry I've been late with everything else! I was keen to get this bashed out :D #also just discovered the joys of being able to paste html so I don't have to read through and format EVERYTHING G_G #Lord Ham Mercury that was a TRIAL #Anyway it is- chapter 4!#Have Warden Will Travel #Zevran Arainai #Rhodri Amell #Dragon Age: Origins #fanfiction?#what do people put in the tags these days?

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