Knot 1: Rather Unexpected

"You do realize this is probably a trap, right?" Alistair murmured as the companions followed the distressed woman who had begged them for help.

"Could be." Alessar glanced sidelong at his fellow Grey Warden. "If it is, we're ready for it. If it's not, then someone honestly needs help."

"Does this altruism really pay all that well?" Morrigan said in the bored, disparaging tone that she used when she was irritated. "Grey Wardens – roaming the countryside, finding lost children, fixing broken wagon axles and solving marriage disputes. It's all so very noble."

Alessar ignored the woman's pointed remarks. She seldom saw the value in doing what the others considered "the right thing" for the sake of one's conscience. Of course, she had a point, sometimes, and they did have more important tasks, but this was right in their path, after all.

"It could pay well, Morrigan, depending on who we might be helping... or un-helping," the elf said calmly. "If they're bandits, then everyone will be well rid of them, don't you think?"

"Whatever you wish," the mage sighed. "I suppose we may gain something worth our while."

Alessar mentally thanked the Maker that Leliana had not decided to add her own commentary – although he knew she'd vote for helping someone, if help was needed. The discussion was distracting, however, and if they were about to walk into an ambush, he was the one most likely to notice their attackers first, as well as any traps laid out for them. He held up his hand for silence as they came into a shallow ravine, where a cluster of wagons stood, apparently abandoned.

Their "guide" now spoke to a figure in expensive-looking leather armor, a slender blonde man with the build of a rogue. He seemed far too well turned out to be a bandit, and he certainly didn't look like the victim of a raid. The stranger's hands went to the sword and dagger sheathed across his back as their party approached, and as Alessar shouted a warning to his companions, he realized, with a shock, that the figure was an elf!

He had no more attention to spare on that startling revelation as an immense boulder was dropped into the mouth of the ravine, blocking their retreat. Armed men appeared from behind the wagons and amidst the rocks, and archers took positions on the sides of the ravine above them.

"The Grey Wardens die here!" the stranger-elf declared as he brandished his blades.

The enemy melee fighters charged, and arrows began to rain down on them; Alessar let Leliana and Morrigan take care of firing back at the archers, and followed Alistair, using his speed to dodge behind his fellow Warden's targets and attack from behind. This kind of battle was no place for the niceties of a face-to-face duel, after all. The two of them cut through several thugs before Morrigan shouted out: "The woman, you fools! She's a mage!"

"I hate when she does that," Alistair said in exasperation, looking around for the woman who had led them here. "A-ha!"

The warrior charged towards the enemy mage, barreling over one of the sword-and-board thugs on the way. Alessar followed to clean up, but a sudden feeling of prescience made him whirl to the side and raise his longsword desperately, just in time to intercept a slice that might have removed his ear.

"Ah, and here we are," said the elven leader of the attack, recoiling from the blocked strike. His speech was tinged with an unfamiliar accent, and this close, Alessar could see that his skin was a golden-brown color. Where in Thedas was he from? "Another elf? An interesting turn of events."

Thank the Maker, the arrows had stopped. Either the women had taken care of the archers, or said archers didn't want to risk hitting their captain. Whatever the case, Alessar was glad of it; he would need his complete attention for this fight, he could tell. "Nothing so interesting about it, is there?" he said coolly, although the truth was, he was quite curious as to how this man had gotten command of a squad of humans. It was almost impossible to imagine a Fereldan city elf being allowed to do such a thing. Perhaps things were different, wherever this stranger came from?

He tried a few tentative feints, attempting to gauge the other's skill, but the stranger parried the feints almost lazily, clearly having seen them for what they were. "On the contrary, I find it fascinating." Smoothly, his parries melted into a two-handed flurry of strikes, longsword and dagger weaving in counterpoint as he bore down hard on Alessar.

It was all the Warden could do to block the rapid attacks. He was a two-blade fighter himself, but clearly not nearly as well-trained as his opponent. He wondered if he could possibly afford to wait for the other elf to tire, or if he could even defend himself for that long.

"Ah, a steady defense. You do not make this easy for me. Very well, I suppose I shall have to earn my pay today." Faster than Alessar could follow, the stranger disengaged from his attack and dodged to Alessar's off-hand side, his sword easily sliding past the dagger the Grey Warden hastily raised in defense. He felt the blade nick his throat, but before it could cut any deeper, the other elf suddenly crumpled to the ground.

"Aaaand that's what he gets for not wearing a helmet," Alistair said dryly, lowering the pommel of his sword. "Are you all right?"

"Fine," Alessar grunted, feeling the wound on his neck. A scratch, only, though it was bleeding. A quick glance around showed that the leader had been the last to fall.

"Well... what do you want to do with him?" The other Warden nudged the elf on the ground with his boot, none too gently. "Put him out of our misery, or...?"

"No... Let's see if we can get him to talk. He doesn't really look like a bandit, does he?" Up close, Alessar could see the quality of the elf's gear, armor and weapons alike. What was actually happening here? "He clearly knows we're Grey Wardens, and he said something about earning his pay..."

"An assassin, perhaps?" Leliana said as she drew closer, looking curiously at the fallen elf. She still had an arrow nocked on her bow, though she had not drawn.

"Now there's a comforting thought. Someone likes us that much to–"

Alistair's sarcastic commentary was cut off by a groan from their would-be attacker. "Quickly, bind his hands," Alessar said urgently, looking around for something that would work. There was a brief scramble as Alistair found a suitable coil of rope in one of the wagons, and in a few moments, the stranger was trussed like a gamebird for the spit, his wrists tied together behind his back, and those tied to his ankles. He groaned and pulled weakly against the ropes as they tied him and propped him up on his knees, but he wasn't truly conscious, yet.

Morrigan saw fit to change that, delivering a sharp slap to the elf's face. Alessar couldn't help but wince at the sound, but quickly schooled his features into what he privately thought of as his "aggressively expressionless" look.

"Mmm... what? I..." The stranger slowly opened his eyes, which were a surprising shade of amber, and caught sight of his four captors. "...Oh." He glanced at them each in turn, his gaze finally coming to rest on Alessar. "I rather thought I would wake up dead. Or not wake up at all, as the case may be. But I see you haven't killed me yet."

Alessar crossed his arms, letting a hint of anger show. "I thought maybe I should torture you, first." He was a little dismayed by the stranger's reply.

"Ohhh, so you kept me around to have a bit of fun, did you? Hmm." The elf flashed him a grin. "But the purpose behind torture is usually to interrogate, yes?" he continued. "In that case, despite the potential for fun... perhaps I'll save you a bit of time and get right to the point. My name is Zevran." He inclined his head in greeting, as nonchalantly as if they had just met in the market square. "Zev to my friends. I am a member of the Antivan Crows, brought here for the sole purpose of slaying any surviving Grey Wardens." He glanced from Alessar to Alistair and back again. "Which I have failed at, sadly."

So Leliana had been right. Alessar agreed with his fellow Warden – this was definitely not comforting news. "Who hired you to kill us?"

"A rather taciturn fellow in the capital. Loghain, I think his name was?" Zevran closed his eyes for a moment, chasing the memory. "Yes, that's it."

Hearing Alistair's quick intake of breath, Alessar raised his hand again for silence. He, too, felt a surge of anger at hearing that name, but it would be much simpler, and much faster, for one person to ask the questions, rather than some or all of them demanding answers. "Does that mean you're loyal to Loghain?" he demanded.

Zevran shrugged, a mildly impressive feat, given how he was tied. "I have no idea what his issues are with you. The usual, I imagine. You threaten his power, yes?" His tone seemed to indicate that this was a common enough reason to hire a professional assassin. "I was contracted to perform a service. Beyond that, no, I'm not loyal to him."

"And now that you've failed that service?"

"Well, that's between Loghain and the Crows. And between the Crows and myself," Zevran said with another shrug.

"And between you and me?" Alessar pressed.

The foreign elf's lips quirked up in a half-smile. "Isn't that what we're establishing now?"

Alessar rolled his eyes slightly, realizing that this man was going to be extremely irritating to question. "What are the Antivan Crows?"

Next to him, Leliana spoke up, though she never lowered her bow. "I can tell you that. They are an order of assassins out of Antiva. Very powerful, and renowned for always getting the job done... so to speak." All four of them looked at the assassin, who grimaced. "Loghain must have gone to great expense to hire this man," the minstrel finished.

"Quite right," Zevran said approvingly. "I'm surprised you haven't heard much of the Crows out here. Back where I come from, we're rather infamous."

"Not for being good assassins, I see," Alessar said somewhat distractedly as he digested that. Antiva... he had certainly never been there to know firsthand, but that likely explained Zevran's accent and complexion. Hiring Antivan assassins just to be rid of Ferelden's last two Grey Wardens? Did Loghain really fear them that much?

"Oh, fine," Zevran said in a hurt tone. "Is that what you Fereldans do? Mock your prisoners? Such cruelty."

"Why are you telling us all of this?" Alessar asked, exasperated.

"Why not?" the assassin replied carelessly. "I wasn't paid for silence. Not that I offered it for sale, precisely."

"Aren't you at least loyal to your employers? These Crows, if not Loghain?"

"Loyalty is an interesting concept." Zevran shook his head slightly and met Alessar's gaze. "If you wish, and you're done interrogating me, we can discuss it further."

"What is there to discuss?" Morrigan interjected. "He–"

Alessar shot her a quelling look, then turned to Zevran, crossing his arms impatiently. "I'm listening. Make it quick."

"Well, here's the thing," Zevran began in a more businesslike tone. "I failed to kill you, so my life is forfeit. That's how it works. If you don't kill me, the Crows will." He looked intently at Alessar. "The thing is, I like living. And you obviously are the sort to give the Crows pause. So let me serve you, instead."

The Warden half-expected the others to butt in at this point, but they were apparently all waiting to see what he would do, even Morrigan. "You must think I'm royally stupid," he said, raising an eyebrow.

"I think you're royally tough to kill," Zevran corrected him. "I'm only hoping you're stupid." There was a slight creaking sound as Leliana drew back on her bowstring, and the Antivan shook his head. "That was a joke," he said quickly. "Let me rephrase that. I'm hoping that you're the sort of fellow that takes a chance every now and again. Yes?"

"And what's to stop you from finishing the job later?" Alessar asked, regarding the assassin with slightly narrowed eyes.

"To be completely honest, I was never given much of a choice regarding joining the Crows." Zevran looked down at the ground, his eyes tracking memories in the dust. "They bought me on the slave market when I was a child. By now, I think I've paid my worth back to them, plus tenfold." He looked up at Alessar with a slightly mocking smile. "The only way out, however, is to sign up with someone they can't touch."

"Hiding behind the Grey Wardens, then? Marvelous," Morrigan said contemptuously.

Zevran shrugged, his gaze never leaving Alessar. "Even if I did kill you now, they might kill me just on principle for failing the first time. Honestly, I'd rather take my chances with you."

He was probably being foolish, or at least foolishly sentimental, but by now Alessar was a little intrigued by Zevran's story. An elven child bought as a slave and raised as an assassin? Horrible. But unfortunately, not impossible to imagine. "What do you want in return?" he asked. They could probably not afford whatever he had been paid to kill them, and anyway, none of them were there to make a profit. If the assassin wanted money, they'd have to find something else to do with him.

"Well... let's see," Zevran said in a thoughtful tone. "Being allowed to live would be nice, and would make me marginally more useful to you," he said with a sardonic grin. "And somewhere down the line if you should decide that you no longer have need of me, then I go on my way. Until then, I am yours." He tilted his head questioningly. "Is that fair?"

Alessar took a moment to try to think this over rationally. No matter what, he couldn't kill the man now. They had him at their mercy, and he wouldn't abide with murdering a prisoner in cold blood for sheer pragmatism. So... they could turn him over to some authorities, somewhere, but who? If he had been hired by Loghain, it was possible that any noble who sided with Loghain would shelter or even aid the assassin, and maybe hire him to try again. But on the other hand, according to Zevran, if they turned him loose, the Crows would probably kill him. He didn't want to leave. They only had his word on that, though. What if the Crows would do no such thing, and Zevran truly would just bide his time to make a second attempt? A full-on frontal assault was precisely the wrong way to try to attack their party, but slitting their throats at night?

Still... the Antivan seemed sincere in his desire to escape his former comrades – he said everything so blatantly that it was hard to believe he was lying. He didn't ask for sympathy, as, Alessar thought, someone trying to worm his way into their good graces would do. And really... their company already consisted of two hunted Grey Wardens, an apostate, a qunari murderer, and a possible madwoman. Why not an assassin, too?

"Very well," the Warden said finally, " I accept your offer."

"What?!" Alistair sputtered. "You're taking the assassin with us now? Does that really seem like a good idea?"

"I'm sure we could use him," Alessar said calmly, although the look he shot his fellow Warden promised that they would discuss this later.

"All right, all right. I see your point," Alistair sighed, waving his hands in defeat. "Still, if there was a sign we were desperate, I think it just knocked on the door and said hello."

"A fine plan," Morrigan said mockingly, looking at Alessar in amused disgust. "But I would examine your food and drink far more closely from now on, were I you."

"That's excellent advice for anyone, in these times," Zevran said sagely, smiling charmingly as Morrigan turned to glare at him.

"Welcome, Zevran," said Leliana, perhaps trying to make up for Morrigan's hostility. She finally lowered her shortbow. "Having an Antivan Crow join us does sound like a fine plan."

"Oh? You are another companion-to-be, then?" Zevran looked her up and down and smiled. "I wasn't aware such loveliness existed amongst adventurers. Amazing."

"...Or maybe not," Leliana murmured, casting a despairing glance at Alessar, who glanced heavenward for patience. It seemed that this Antivan was far too fond of the sound of his own voice.

"Now if one of you would be so kind as to untie me, at least a little, I will make a proper vow to your fearless leader." The assassin looked around for a volunteer.

Leliana stepped forward, then belatedly glanced back at Alessar for permission. "Go ahead," he said wearily. "He's not much use to us all tied up."

"O-ho, you say that now, my dear Grey Warden," Zevran said with an unmistakably lascivious chuckle as Leliana began untying him. At first Alessar didn't follow, but then he realized what the other elf was referring to... or at least, he thought he did. His own expression must have been a mirror of Alistair's: a few degrees short of horrified. Maybe this really wasn't a good idea...

Once unbound, the assassin went to one knee in front of Alessar, head bowed, looking for all the world like a faithful retainer vowing service to a lord. The Warden looked down at him in surprise.

"I hereby pledge my oath of loyalty to you, until such a time as you choose to release me from it," Zevran intoned solemnly. "I am your man, without reservation; this I swear."

"...Thank you, Zevran," Alessar said uncertainly as the other elf looked up at him. That had been an unexpected bit of formality, but it certainly sounded more binding than a simple "Yes, I'll work for you", he supposed. Perhaps he was meant to believe that Zevran would be less likely to break such an elaborate vow. "If we're done here, though, we should be on our way." He glanced around at the others; Morrigan seemed impatient to leave, Alistair still looked concerned, and Leliana was watching Zevran curiously.

"Ah, yes, by all means, O Captain," Zevran agreed as he rose to his feet. He accepted his blades from Alistair and re-sheathed them at his back. "And that prompts me to ask: What may I call you all?"

Alessar was left alone with their newest recruit for the moment. The others began to systematically check the wagons and the fallen thugs for any useful items; their road was far too difficult to pass up on whatever supplies they could glean. Well, he supposed they trusted him enough to be able to protect himself for a few minutes, just in case Zevran really did try to attack...

"The dark-haired mage is Morrigan; our archer is Leliana; my fellow Warden is Alistair, and I am Alessar." He glanced at the assassin, waiting for the inevitable comment. It was guaranteed to come up every time the two of them introduced themselves.

"...Alistair and Alessar? Charming names, to be sure, but is that a Grey Warden thing?" Zevran asked, one eyebrow raised.

The dark-haired elf sighed and shook his head. Every single time.

Author's Note:

First in an expected series of short stories, a little adventure of my Dragon Age: Origins character, Alessar. ;D Yes, I picked that name COMPLETELY by accident! Talk about fate. XD

Please note that a good portion of the dialogue from when Zevran wakes up until his oath is directly from the game. Some of it has been massaged a little to make better sense in context, and text has been added, especially for the non-player characters, but the bulk of it -- most of that being Zevran's personal story -- is verbatim. I just wanted to flesh out the scene a bit more, especially from Alessar's point of view -- it's nice to have a hint of why someone would spare the life of someone who had been hired to kill them, after all.

Dragon Age: Origins and all characters here besides Alessar belong to Bioware and their wonderful writers.