Hey guys, yes another story. But from a video game! Not to worry though, this is something I worked on in my free time and is now finished! I've been a huge Dragon Age fan for years, and cant wait for the newest game to finally come out.
A big thanks to Linlin23, who beta this entire three part short as part of my story swap and fix with them. You should check out their on going Fenris X FHawk story Tales From Tevinter, it a really good read!
And yes to read right, three part - and its all finished, why is it not all out then, you may wonder...
Welp, you know how much I love feed back.
So heres the deal: I'm planing to post a piece every five days Unless you, my awesome readers give me some good reviews. Three, three is the number that will get you another pieces of this story, and six will get you the entire thing!
But really guys, I'll probably post the when ever so just leave me your thought, cause I love them.
Enjoy the story!
D.R.O.H
Beautiful Shadows
I stared down at the tanned elf with annoyance and curiosity, carefully wiping at the blood on my cheek. He was tied, and, for now, was the only one left alive in the party who had ambushed my group. He was smirking at me, having just spilled his guts as if he held no loyalty at all. Though he claimed that he did, but not to the point where it meant his death. I narrowed my eyes at him. One of my long knifes in my hand, I twirled it around aimlessly. If Logan was truly sending people after the remaining Gray Wardens, then we needed to work faster.
"Why exactly… should I spare you?" I asked after a moment, though, honestly I didn't truly want to kill him. Something in his eyes told me he'd done all of this for the wrong reasons. Zevran peered at me, apparently surprised by my inquiry.
"Ah, deadly, beautiful and fair. That is a dangerous combination." He mused. Behind me Alistair snorted and I could almost see my fellow Gray Warden rolling his eyes. "Here is what I'm thinking; While I'm sure you don't really need any more protection, one can always use an assassin on their side, yes? If you let me live I will pledge my loyalty to you, and unlike The Crows, I shall stay by your side till you either chase me away, or one of us is dead. How does that sound?"
Shocked, I stared at him bewildered. This man had just tried to kill me, and now he wished to join my cause? Something was very wrong with him…
"No, absolutely not!" Alistair snapped, taking a step forward, almost blocking me from view. Zevran raised an eyebrow.
"Why not? Afraid of a little competition?"
While Alistair scowled, I momentarily felt slightly sick at such a though. Alistair and I? The guy was nice, but honestly he was too timid and whiny for me. He was more of a clansmen to me, someone I could trust to have my back. Nothing more. Furthermore, he had never shown any signs other than that as well.
I sighed, looking at the others in the group. "What do you guys think?"
Sten, ever stone-faced, grunted. "He could be of use, but I would watch him carefully."
Schniter, my fateful hound, stood from where he had been sitting at my feet and walked up to the elf in question. He sniffed him, making Zevran grimace at the dog breath, and then circled him once before sneezing. After a moment he came back to my side, sat down, and barked with his stub of a tail wiggling.
I pressed my lips together and moved out from behind the ex-Templar, before crouching down to eye level in front of Zevran. He blinked, meeting my gaze without trouble, and smiled crookedly. There was that look in his eyes again, something that I couldn't quiet shake off. I wanted to know what that was.
Quick as a whip, I flicked my dagger forward, my arm reaching out and cutting the elf's bindings. Zevran looked surprised, and stared at me as I stood up. I ignored Alistair's protest. I was leader, even if I didn't want to be, and he had no authority to stop my decisions. I reach out a hand to help Zevran stand up.
"One wrong move, and no amount of skill will save you," I said evenly. It was the only warning he would get. Zevran looked at my hand, then back up at me, and smirked as he took it. I pulled him up, and, when I moved to let go, he gripped my hand to stop me, if only for a moment.
"I wouldn't have it any other way." He said evenly, before bowing his head. "On my life, I pledge my loyalty to you, and only you. I am your man." And then he brought his mouth to my gloved hand and kissed it.
My cheeks flared slightly and I pulled my hand away. Quickly I sheathed the knife in my other hand, and crossed my arms. I glanced around our little group. Sten looked the same as always, and Alistair looked ready to blow his top. I nodded my head, picking up the bag of goodies I had pillaged from the corpuses.
"Come on. Let's get back to camp."
The water was clear and crisp as I watched it pass below me in one of the numerous cannels of the city. My memories seemed to shine in them, and it was easy to let them float in and out of my head. I had never seen such clear water before, not even in the mountains my clan had stayed in one summer. Water ruled this city. It cut lines through it in puzzle like pieces creating a delicate maze that one had to navigate with confidents, less you get lost. The building and pathways were rock – cobble and a smoothed white – the hot sun bounced off their surfaces with ease.
All around me people passed me by without a glance on the bridge. I was just another person to them with a leather hood over my head and a mask over my mouth and nose. It didn't even worry them in the slightness that two swords were strapped to my back and a dagger was at the ready on my inner thigh. They must have been use to it, seeing as the city was almost run by assassins – another traveler in such attire was nothing new.
As I took in a deep breath I recalled the words of the man I was looking for. He was right. The scent of leather hung in the air like a noble women's perfume. The City of Antiva was a glory to behold – how many times had I laid in his arms listening to his words and dreaming of what it looked like? I could have stayed for hours.
I shook my head, straightening and picking up my nap sack from the ground and throwing it over a shoulder with little care. There was nothing of value in it. I knew better then to walk into a city of spies and thieves and keep valuables in sight. They would have to get very close to me if they wanted anything, and, the moment they did, cold steel would meet them.
I wasn't there to sightsee though, so I trudged on. My eyes flickering about for the sign a rather frightened Crow had given me, a little over an hour ago, as I held him at blade point. Finding Zevran was proving harder then I had thought, and it was in times like these I truly missed my faithful hound Schniter. He would have sniffed the elf out in no time. However, my long time friend couldn't help me anymore. I was on my own, having to rely on the survival training I had, as well as some very helpful rumors I had acquired.
How long had it been? It seemed like only a short time ago Zev and I had been getting ready to train new gray wardens, and were planning to spend some real, none world saving, time together. Then the letters came, followed by the ambush, and I was injured gravely. I had thought recovering from the Arch Demon had been bad, but Antiven poison was very potent.
Despite all my pleading he had left, returning here to finish off the Game Master of the Crows. I had meant to follow after I had healed, but then the incident at Fort Draco had occurred and before I knew it I had been swept up into another war. This time, I hadn't had my partner with me. I hadn't had someone to dance the art of deathblows with, but I had cooped. If only barely.
Three years.
It had been three years since I had seen the man I loved, and after everything had calmed with the gray wardens I had slipped away. There was only one I had told I was leaving, though I hadn't planned on it. He was a rouge after all, and I should have known he would spot me.
Nathanial and I had a rather rough start – with the whole 'I killed your father, and, no, I'm not sorry' thing. After a while we had settled into an easy friendship. I talked to him about how much I missed my old friends, and how much my soul longed for a certain elf. He had talked to me about his clarity in seeing what his family had been. Neither of us ever said we were sorry – that I killed his father, or that he had hated me for it, planned to kill me for it – it hadn't been something we needed to say.
He let me go without much force. The years had been hard on me, and he could see it. He understood. The rest probably knew I was gone now. Anders was more than likely upset I had left without a good bye. We had been a joking team, laughing and teasing for no real reason. He would understand though, I was sure. My dwarven friend was more than likely laughing the whole thing off. Oghren had asked me quite a few times why I hadn't already left. Justice… Justice would be fine. The spirit had always worried me, he had seemed forever lost in a tide of emotions he couldn't completely grasp, love being the hardest for him. Anders had become his friend, though. I was sure, with his help, the spirit would find peace in this life.
The rest of the people that had helped with the Architect would be fine. None of them had I been very close with, not even the person who was of my people. She had always been so bitter, I couldn't find even ground with her.
It meant little now, though. I was here now, in this city of Crows and leather, feeling much like I was looking for a singular needle in a stack of them.
I spotted the sign a few minutes after leaving the market district. It read 'The Dove's Nest'. It was a rather popular brothel from what the squealer had told me. I grimaced, wondering off hand how loyal that slinky elf had been. If my information had been truthful, the meeting would happen somewhere around here. After a quick thought, I made my way to the roof, easily using a stack of boxes, and then windows and ledges, to work my way up. Once on the flat top of the building, I let my pack slid to the ground and pulled my hood more snuggly over my head.
Now all I could do was wait.
I didn't have to wait long.
I saw the group first – five men, two of which were elves and all dressed in the attire I had first met Zevran garbed in. All leather and metal, filled to the brim with hidden weapons, I was sure. The group stopped in the alley between the brothel and another building. I followed them discreetly from the roof as they relaxed and waited for the other party to arrive.
He showed only minutes later, a cloak around his shoulders, but the hood was down. He wasn't one to hide, he never had been, which was ironic seeing as he could melt into the shadows and steal just about anything from anyone within a moment. I felt my heart speed up as I looked at him, overjoyed to see nothing seemed to have changed. He even still had the same pair of blades I had given him.
The other men all stiffened as he stopped a few feet in front of them, holding out his hands to show he held no surprises. Still, one of them kept a hand on the hilt of his sword.
"Here I am." I rolled my eyes at his greeting. "It would seem by the look of you that the Game Master is not coming, yes?"
"Anton sees little reason in seeing you." A man, with a nearly shaved head and tattoos covering it stepped forward and addressed him. "He doesn't see why you continue to cause us trouble. You killed Talisen, and failed in your mission. You are nothing to the Crows now."
"Ah, you see, that is what I had thought." I could hear the malice entering his voice as he spoke. "Then you sent those men, and almost killed Rodwen. I thought the Crows kept their word, but I guess not." I was not surprised by his words, for he had spoken much the same to me before leaving. "For that, you see, you will all die, or surrender to me."
The man scowled at him. "You are naïve Zevran. She was protected while saving the land from the blight, but, with the Arch Demon gone, she is nothing but a thorn that continues to remind us of our failure." A sound caught my attention, the twang of a bowstring being tested. I looked around as he continued to speak. "Now, you have become just as much of one, and for that we will end you as well. Then, finish off the warden."
A few buildings away I saw it. A cloaked figure with a bow pulled back and an arrow ready. They had not seen me thanks to the shadow abilities I had picked up. Also, I knew the arrow was pointed at Zevran. When the string was released, I moved. Swords free in moments I leapt off the edge of the building, using years of training to cut down the arrow before it could make its target. As I landed, I found everyone looking at me, though Zevran's eyes quickly moved from me to the arrow now split in half on the ground, and then back to me.
I was not surprised he didn't realize who I was, for years had changed me, and nothing but my eyes were visible. He looked a bit confused as to why I had saved him, but, being who he was, he quickly turned back around to the other men who all looked a bit annoyed at their failed plan.
"Well then, it would seem you wish to fight now, yes? Very well."
Everyone was a whirlwind of speed after that, and, knowing the sniper up on the building would be a problem, I moved for the man that had a bow of his own. Zevran sliced at the bald man as I sped past him, using my keen sight to find weak points on the victim – something he had taught me himself.
One of the elves moved to stop me. I quickly blocked his attack, and then kicked up with my foot, smashing his kneecap and then driving one of my blades through his neck as he crumpled.
I caught my main target off guard and quickly struck him shoulder to shoulder, sending him to the ground where I drove my other blade into his chest. He made a small sound, before his eyes simply stared up at me and I yanked my blade free again, sheathing both of them. Taking no time, I kicked the body over and recover his bow and an arrow.
It had been such a long time since I had held one, not since my role as a hunter in my clan, but it was like riding a horse; you never forgot. I quickly strung the arrow, and, finding my target, pulled back. Taking careful aim I shot the arrow and was pleased when I saw the figure fall from sight.
A sharp pain bit at me and I jumped back from another swing as another Crow came at me with a sword – the one who had been so antsy before. I felt blood bubble up and trickle down my shoulder and grimaced at him. The man smirked at me, his green eyes cold and hard. We clashed blades and I used my free one to try and lop off his head like I had the other one.
I missed, and was forced backwards as he pushed hard on my injured arm. I had planned to kick him, but was suddenly thrown back; barely keeping my feet under me as I saw a sword suddenly appeared through his chest. The man gurgled, and then fell as the blade was pulled out. Zevran huffed a bit while bending down to clean off his blade on the bodies' clothes. As I looked around, the other two men were dead as well; the bald one lay crumpled with a slashed throat.
I turned my gaze back to Zevran, but I found myself suddenly, roughly, pushed to the wall. I winced as his elbow dug into my wounded shoulder, his knife at my throat. I stared at him wide eyed, his golden ones narrow with suspicion.
"Who are you? Why did you help me?" Perhaps he had changed a bit, I noted. I still remember the first time we had spoken, where he had been so calm and casual. Perhaps, somewhere down the line, in the three years we had been apart something had changed that. I hissed as he pushed on my wound, and then gasped.
"Why wouldn't I when I came all this way to help you? Bloody rash of you to do this, isn't it Zev?"
He paused, the pressure on my wound lessoning, causing more blood to trickle down and drip from my fingers. I could see his mind working backwards, the sound of my voice triggering it.
"Ah, don't worry, it was just part of my training to become a Crow, nothing like a good rack stretching."
"Do you hear yourself? Having to endure something like that, you shouldn't be happy about it."
"How would you know?"
"Dread Wolf be damned, I know more than you think!"
Quick as lightening, his other hand shot up and pulled my hood down, shattering my own thoughts about the past. Though my mask still covered my mouth and nose, my white, blond hair spilled out framing my face and the long braid it was in cascaded over my shoulder. On one of my pointed ears he found three earrings, one of which was on the lobe – a simple silver loop with an emerald in it – the same earring he had given me as a vow of love.
"Rodwen." He breath, startled. Eyes wide, he lower his knife and put it back on his belt. I tilted my head slightly, reaching up and cleaning off a smear of blood from his face.
"Getting into messes again are we? Well, at least I'm here now to clean you up this time."
His hand caught mine before I could lower it, and he held it to his face and laughed slightly.
"You really are here." He muttered looking at me. "How is that?"
"I left." I said simply. "I missed you, I could not be there another day. I am no leader. I never wanted to be. Things will be fine without me. Whatever years I have left, I wanted to be with you."
He let go of my hand, and smiled in his cocky way.
"Ah, yes, I can see that." He avoided the fact that I had stated the number of years I had, but I couldn't blame him. Still, at some point, we would have to talk about it. He looked around, glancing for something that he thought was missing. "Surely, you did not make the journey all alone though. Where is that flea bitten friend of yours?" He must have seen the sadness that entered my eyes for he looked like he regretted his words.
"Schniter is gone Zevran. He died, protecting me a year ago."
"Ah." This time, he touched my face. "I am sorry Rodwen." Something in his words made it feel like he apologized for more than the loss of my dog. I leaned into his touch. How long had it been since I had heard any word for him? Not since the letter he sent to the keep.
"It is alright Zevran." I can feel his index finger tracing the lines of the light blue swirls on my forehead that looked so much like the Hula, skimming over my temple and cheek till it hit the fabric of my mask. "You had no way of knowing it was me, after all, covered up as I am."
"So I can see. Wanted to go unnoticed. Smart, I suppose." He stares at the cloak and the mask with playful, endless eyes. Their color, so vibrant, I could almost taste honey on my tongue. Slowly, his hand skimmed over my lips, hidden under black fabric and I watched his eyes darken ever so slightly with each word. "I have missed you so…" His words were paired with him leaning forward and quicker then I could respond he ripped my mask down and crushed his mouth to my newly exposed one. I let out a small squeak, like I always did, when he suddenly became affectionate. Still, my hands found his shoulders, then his hair, and I quickly kissed him back as he pushed me against the wall harder.
It was a bit ironic that it happened to be the wall of a brothel.
His other hand caressed my neck, and then stopped near my shoulder at the wetness. When he pulled back I was breathless. He looked at his free hand, at the scarlet liquid on it, and then at my shoulder wear the fabric of my cloak had darkened. The hand that was still on my face drew up to brush hair from my eyes.
"I have dreamed about this day since I left you." He muttered before pulling his hand away. I just stare at him, unable to really reply. He knew I felt the same way because of my lack of words. He stared at me for a few more minutes before his hand simply reached out and took the wrist of my uninjured arm. "But we must make haste my Warden. Being caught in the middle of a group of bodies, even in Antiva, would not vote well, yes?"
Still slightly dazed, I nodded my head and followed him back out of the ally way. After a quick retrieval of my pack from the roof, I pulled my hood back up, more to keep the sun from my eyes then to shadow my face. He led me away from the red-lantern district and towards a busier part of town. People continued to pass us and pay us no heed as we stopped in front of a shop.
The sign read 'Pelleverniciatadi Sylvia' which meant little to me, as much of the words here did. I supposed I would have to learn at some point. We walked in through the open door without pause, and I wondered what in the world we were doing. That became clear when a women wearing little, and holding an inking tool to another man, nodded to him and he smirked. Zevran took my forearm to get me moving again, and led me behind the counter and through another door. Inside was a room much like a greeting room. As I'm shown through a hallway, he pushes open yet another door and we are finally in what seems to be living area; a bedroom.
"Sit down, Amore. I shall fetch some bandages for that wound of yours." I nodded my head as he left the room. I shuffled over to the large bed at the far side of the room, and plopped down after taking off my swords and pack. I had forgotten how much I liked it when he spoke endearments in my ear. Ones I, myself, didn't even understand.
I wondered about where I was, and how he gotten a place like this, seemingly in the middle of everything, yet out of sight. It was perfect, I realized, for no one would look for him in a place they thought for sure he would avoid.
I looked around the room idly as I waited. The room was fashioned in dark wood, and the curtains and bed were draped in plush, green cotton. It was a simple room, but somehow I could see him living here.
"Miss me?" I smiled slightly when Zevran reappeared with bandages and a bottle that I guessed was disinfectant. He sat them down on the side table, and then sat on the bed next to me. "We got lucky that their blades didn't have any poison like last time." He said it carefree, but I pressed my lips together thinking of that night. I couldn't remember much of it. All I knew was that I almost died and it had almost destroyed Zevran to watch me suffer. "Now, then, let's get that wound treated, yes?" He reached for the clasp on my cloak, but I grabbed his hand. I looked at him, unsure about all of this. It had been three years after all; something had changed. Some things he might not like once he saw them. He simply gave me one of his smiles; the one he only seemed to ever give me. One that wasn't cocky, just sweet, and I let his hand go without a word.
I let him undo the tie of my cloak and it fluttered to the bed and pooled around me. I helped with the buttons and hooks of my dragon scale armor, and he comments on it. I told him that our dear black smith followed me to The Keep. He laughed at the merchant's bad luck, but praised the smith's work. He laid that aside more carefully, running a hand over the fine scales as I work on pulling off my tunic, which was hard as the sleeve covered in blood has started to stick to the wound, and I was forced to rip it off.
Zevran grabbed the bandages and cleaner first, and then stood in front of me to get a look at the still weeping wound. What his eyes were drawn to next, though, left my heart constricting slightly as a look of horror marred his face.
My skin, for the most part, was slightly tanned from my years as a Dalish elf in my clan. Though, light scars did mar it every once in a while from the constant battles I had endured. My breast band was still firmly in place, and framed what he stood staring at rather well.
It was black, and looked like a barren bush; the black spindles covered the front of my left shoulder and half of my collarbone. While the middle was a solid black shape, tendrils stretched far alone the paths of my veins. Slowly, carefully he brushed his hand over the dark skin. It did not hurt; in fact I could feel nothing at all.
"What is this?" His voice held the same edge it had with the crows before, and I bit my lip. I hated the look on his face, the anger that was on it that screamed something had clearly done this to me. I pulled in a long breath before I answered him.
"The day Schniter died I was alone with him." I muttered. Zevran looked up at my face as I spoke, though his fingers lingered. "I was just out for a walk with him. I had needed a break from all of the politics. I was careless and got ambushed by a blood mage." He flinched at the word, his eyes tightening in anger. "He summoned a demon of wrath, and it grabbed me here." I raised a hand and touched the darkest part of the scar, looking down at my lap as I spoke. "That kind of pain… I can't describe it. Schniter leapt at the thing to stop it, and forced it to let go of me, but he was flung hard in its reaction. His head hit a sharp rock." I cringed slightly, remembering the yelp, and the crack I had heard. All of the blood that had been on that rock… I shook my head. "Apparently I had been screaming loud enough to alert for help. Nathaniel, a fellow rouge, found me and killed the mage quickly."
"I see." He muttered tightly. His fingers ghosted over the blackened veins. "No one could help you?" I shrugged slightly.
"There was a mage that was more talented with healing then any I have ever met. He closed the wound, stopped the infection from spreading, but not everything can be fixed with magic, Zev." I sighed, looking back up at him. "The nerves there are gone, so it doesn't hurt or anything, it just doesn't look good. The demon scorched my veins so hot that they couldn't heal."
He was quiet for a long time; looking at the wound with a face I didn't quite understand. I watched pain dance across his features, and reached up to touch his face. He moved from my touch and that stung. He looked sorry when I pleaded at him silently, but shook his head.
"I should have been there." He said finally. I had known this was coming, and so I tried to stop him before he continued.
"Zev-"
He cut me off, throwing his hands up in the air, the first aid supplies long forgotten on the floor.
"I left you alone for three years, Rodwen. Who knows how much longer it would have been. You could have been killed, and I would not have known until it had long passed." He was angry with himself and turned away, his shoulders tense. I frowned, feeling guilty for having put this on him. I could see the logic of his guilt, and, in truth, I had wished he had been there for me. Yet, how could I blame him for doing what he thought was right?
Slowly, I got up from the bed and rested my hands on his shoulders from behind, pressing myself against him. I buried my face into the back of his neck and hair, and clung to him like I had the night before the march to Denerim. He stiffened, trying to pull away so he could continue to punish himself. I didn't let him. I tightened my hold and kept him where he was. "Rodwen, please…"
"No." I snapped. "This was not your fault. I did miss you, that is true. I wished you were there with me, by my side." I sighed one of my hand leaving his shoulder to run down his back and over constricted muscles. "But I understood. I never thought badly of you for it." I paused letting that sink in. He needed to know that I wasn't looking for him to beg for forgiveness, for I was as much to blame for our distance as he was. I started counting his intakes of breath, counting six of them before I continued talking. "I love you Zevran, and all that matters now is that we're here together again… I thought that maybe, since we are no longer running around in tents, you could use that inking talent of yours that you spoke of and maybe make this into something more pleasant to look at?"
I counted four more breaths before he turned around and pulled me into a crushing hug, his face in my hair. I let out a little gasp at how tight he was holding me, but didn't do anything except press my nose into his neck.
"You are my everything, mio Bella Ombra." He muttered, and I knew those words, that name; the endearment he only spoke to me when we were alone. "No mark on your body will ever change that. I do not deserve you, but I will selfishly keep you here."
I smiled against his skin.
"It is not as if we are that different. You know this. You know I will never leave your side. I am yours." I heard him laugh as I used his all too common statement as my own. He lifted my chin with his hand to stare into my dark, forest eyes.
"My Beautiful Shadow, you have already followed me here. I have no doubt you will continue to do so." He traced his hand over the blank lines again, his mind ticking away. "I will use all of my skill with ink to turn any of your blemishes into art, if that is what you wish."
"It is." I muttered and leaned forward to kiss him lightly. He was not satisfied with that, though, and his arms snake around me and pull me even closer than before. When he was finished, he had covered my neck in kisses and bitten down repeatedly in the spot under my left ear. I was gasping and flushed, unable to really think straight. He chuckled, and pulled back, gently sitting me back down onto the bed again.
"Then I shall see that it is done. I will need to barrow some of Sylvia's ink for this little project." He picked up the bandages and cleaner that he left forgotten on the floor. "But first, we must see to your wound. I will not have you bleeding elsewhere if I am to draw it out." I nodded in understanding, and let him get to work.
He was quick, and, though it was no healing magic, the cream he smeared over the cut was cooling and he was careful not to bandage it too tight.
"Who is Sylvia anyway?" I finally asked, as I rubbed at my shoulder. Zevran was rummaging around in the nearby wardrobe, looking for a shirt I could wear instead of the bloody ones I had worn the entire boat ride here.
"Eh? Is that jealousy I hear, Rodwen?" I scowled slightly, and wondered if I am truly jealous. It had been three years, and it was Zevran, but…
"Is there a reason I should be?" I asked quietly. He paused in his searching to look at me, and frowned slightly at my worried face. After a moment he ducked back in and pulled out a tan, long sleeved tunic and came back over to me. When he stood in front of me, saying nothing, I felt my eyebrows knit together. "Zev?" As quick as a cat, he crouches in front of me, coming to my eye level he moves a hand forward, fingers touching the earring.
"I can understand your worry, my Warden. I do not have a very good track record do I?" I sighed, but waited for him to continue. "You have my word. You have had my heart since I gave this to you, miobella ombra." His fingers touched the earring I had worn since he had helped pierce my ear, and put it in. "Even if I tried, they would never satisfy me." I sighed closing my eyes and pressing my face into his hand. He curled his fingers into my hair and hummed. "This has me wondering, though, if I should be thinking the same, no?" I opened an eye, and frowned at him causing him chuckle. "I am merely joking. You are a loyal person by nature. Though, I find it hard to believe an entire fort kept to themselves for three years." I sighed, shrugging slightly.
"There were a few…"
"Oh? Who are they, so I can stare murderously into their eyes?"
"Really Zev…"
"I jest! You know this!"
I sighed again, shaking my head before resting it on his hand once more.
"Nothing happened. There was the mage, the one what helped with the demon's wound. But, Anders tended to flirt with anything female and on two legs." Zevran chuckled and I couldn't help up smile. They probably would have gotten along swimmingly. "And there was Nathanial, the other rouge I told you about." I opened my eyes again, and made a face. "Honestly, why do half the men I become friends with want to kill me the first time I meet them?"
"Eh? Again?"
"Yes, again." I frowned, thinking back. "Though, he was trying to avenge a family member I'd killed. Not just because he was told to kill me, so I suppose it was different. I ended up making him a warden." I laughed, slightly, remembering the dark haired archer's face. "Turned out for the better I think, though. After three years we were rather close, and by then I think he knew I belonged to someone else." I pressed my lips together. "He caught me when I was sneaking off to come here. I think he saw something in my face that made him let me go without much of an explanation."
"A true friend then, no?" I looked at him raising an eyebrow. "Everyone could see you had enough after defeating the Arch Demon, Rodwen. The fact that you stuck around for three more years is something I am sure most of our old friends would have trouble believing." His hand moved to brush over my cheek. "Any true brother in arms would have let you go."
"I suppose you are right." I moved my head and kissed his palm before smiling. "Thank you for understanding my worries and not over reacting." He chuckled.
"Who am I, Alistair? No, I do not fly off the handle because you ask a well justified question." I smiled again, nodding my head. "Now then, I think it is time I told you of my plan." This worried me, for his voice held that ever so seductive edge to it.
"Plan?"
"Hm, yes. I do have plans sometimes." He smiled cockily at me. "In three days the Game Master will be attending a party held by one of the princes here in Antiva. He has quiet a love for masquerades as it were." I raised my brows at him and he smirk grew wider, trailing his fingers over my jaw line as he spoke. "I think we shall get in the proper attire, and attend this party, where I fully intend to relieve the Game Master of his duties. Then we shall rule these Crows as we see fit." I snorted slightly.
"So that is your plan? To rule as king and queen of the group that has tried to kill us both numerous times?"
"There is no safer place my dear. Plus, I think you would be the perfect Queen of Assassins."
I had to admit, that did sound like quiet an adventure. It might be fun to work from the other side for a while.
"That sounds like a great deal of fun." I ran a hand through his wheat gold hair, thinking about time and feeling my chest ache. "I just wish…"
"Shh…" He planted a quick kiss on my forehead, knowing what I was thinking. "Time is but a number Rodwen, and life is fleeting to begin with, no?" I nodded slightly, deciding to let it go for now. He knew my years were limited, but he didn't know everything. That was for a later date. "Good, then we are in agreement." Hands push me backwards, and I let myself fall onto the bed and watched the shirt he had just dug out go flying into a corner with his own. "That is the future though, and as you have said, mio Bella Ombra, it has been three years." He was on the bed next to me, an arm holding his head up as his free hand skimmed my bear arm. "I fully intended on using the now to make up for it."
I smiled, thinking about his words and finding them more right than anything I had heard as of late.
"I think I would like that." I muttered staring into his golden eyes. "At least for awhile." Of course, 'awhile' for Zevran turned into a time neither of us would ever forget.