#Rhodri pls have mercy on urself

[badartxd]

Continuing tag here bc ran out

Oh gosh the ending is so harsh though … it almost seems like jealousy albeit not the bitter kind 🥺

Have Warden, Will Travel- Chapter 7

Excuse the delay on this chapter- I ended up having to split it into two parts. Hopefully chapter 8 won’t be so long coming like this one was! You know the score cool beans: Full chapter here, and also below (the rest is under the cut because it’s long, as per usual). CW for very brief sexual reference. Hope you good eggs are doing ok!! I’ve been thinking of you! 8D

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Zevran was smart enough to know he was a fool, and that was just the way he liked it. A person only needed enough smarts to survive their stupidity– and he certainly had enough stupidity to him to make the clever moments stand out.

It all worked out for the best like that, really. If nothing else, it had long imparted the revelation to him, brilliant fool that he was, the secret to life. Simple and unlikely: surviving life in all its exquisite dreadfulness required optimism, and the secret ingredient to optimism was pessimism.

The Warden, that frighteningly odd individual, had practically spent the night with Zevan strapped to her back like an infant. There wasn’t a single kill to his name, and still she openly gushed about him, in front of the entire party and half of Redcliffe.

It was perfectly reasonable to assume that her standards for excellence were so low that a compliment was a thinly-veiled insult. Or that the wholly undeserved praise was a more calculated move to make the others resent him. To keep him out of conflict so that his reflexes dulled for lack of practice. To lull him into a false sense of security, even, only to take him (somewhat) by surprise when she and the dog murdered him in the dead of night and feasted on his innards.

And as far as Zevran was concerned, such thoughts only made the good things stand out more. He had survived a battle without a scratch. The leader of the party had given praise, and there was no taking back what had already been spoken, undeserved as the words might have been. His own tent was in the works. Even the sunrise had a peachy glow to it that was hard not to admire. No, this was more than enough for now.

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