Banter, ha. There had been enough banter, and if Aurin was suited to Azabeth's tastes, what of it? Where a woman bestowed her favors was nobody else's business in a town like Denerim. Besides, Az was curious. What kind of scars lay beneath those well-oiled leathers?
The arm at her waist was neatly evaded, the second grasp not so - did she let him catch her, or was it true play? Hard to say - but she was laughing when he picked her up bodily, hands going up and back to loop around his neck, feet picked up and back arched up into the not-mercenary's chest. "Last door at the end of the hall," she laughed, a willing participant in this game. Guess where she kept the room key.