Author's Note: Of course I do not own Dragon Age and I give a nod to Bioware for their creative genius (nod, nod, nod!). This is my first stab at fan fiction and I welcome reviews/comments on my work thus far.

A New Beginning

Zevran Arainai and Kallian Tabris stood facing each other, clothes dishevelled, daggers drawn, each damp with sweat. The forest floor around them was trampled, showing obvious signs of a struggle; bits of flora clung to each of them. If it weren't for the fact that Kallian's mabari hound, Lucius, was lounging nearby, wholly focussed on devouring a bone, one might have assumed the two elves were duelling each other in earnest.

He saw her shoulder muscles tense ever so slightly and then she was spinning toward him using a very good whirlwind, he thought, as he stepped to his left. Turning, he caught one of her arms with one hand while grabbing her around the waist with his other arm, flipping her onto her back using her own momentum. She looked up at him as he sat on her, and saw he was holding one of her daggers. She cursed, he laughed.

"We said best two of three?" Kallian asked, her breath coming faster than his.

"We did, my dear lady."

She flicked her fingers away from her other blade, holding the dagger loosely between the thumb and forefinger of her hand, both palms facing him. "Fine, you win. I concede defeat."

"Three of five?" He suggested hopefully. He was enjoying the opportunity to help her refine her duelling skills, as it allowed him to spend time with her alone, away from the prying eyes of the rest of their party. He was especially pleased that she had chosen to wear little more than a man's shirt and leggings for the occasion and had been staring at her quite a bit. She either hadn't noticed yet or she no longer minded as much, for she hadn't complained.

"I thought you promised you wouldn't try to kill me again," she protested with a laugh. "Um…do you mind? You may be feather light, but…" She pointed her chin toward her belly.

"But of course, mia cara." Zevran stood and took a step back, offering his hand to Kallian. Taking it, she hopped up with his help.

"What does that mean?" She asked, her eyes narrowing in suspicion.

Smiling, Zevran merely replied "Perhaps you should learn Antivan."

"Hmm."

Kallian reached for her cloak and pulled it around her shoulders, tying it loosely at her neck. She seemed lost in thought as she looked into the trees, and Zevran took the opportunity to admire her profile. Kallian was a lovely woman, slender and delicate, yet well toned and strong, with pale skin, emerald eyes, and a cascade of auburn curls loosely gathered at her neck. Stray curls danced around her face in the breeze; desire stirred within him.

"I wonder if I will ever be quick enough to best you," she mused, sheathing her daggers.

Smiling, he sheathed his daggers and began smoothing his hair and clothing. "'Tis a lofty goal, to be certain. I am the best."

"And ever so humble," she replied, her gaze drifting back to him, eyelashes fluttering.

He tilted his head. "So true. I can teach you some exercises to help you become more limber, but that chainmail armour you wear, while rather attractive on your comely frame, is too heavy and cumbersome. You should try something lighter, dragon skin perhaps?"

Zevran shuddered involuntarily as he recalled the high dragon they defeated during their search for the Urn of Sacred Ashes. Not normally squeamish, the thought of possibly being set on fire had not sat well with Zevran and for the first time in his life he had been in favour of sneaking away from the enemy. Grabbing his cloak, he wrapped himself in it and stomped his feet to shake off the memory. He had more pleasurable activities to pursue today.

"Pfft." She began pulling twigs and moss from her hair. "You may be right. About the weight of the armour, that is. I have a collection of drake and dragon scale, and Alistair tells me Master Wade in Denerim is the man to see about that. Oh, I guess we can look for his sister Goldanna then, too."

Kallian had a willingness to help anyone in need of assistance with anything, which was either quite admirable or endlessly annoying, depending on which of her companions one asked about the trait. She was also quite merciful, a quality Zevran appreciated a great deal. Kallian would have been well within her rights to kill him when they first met, given that he had been hired to assassinate her and any other surviving members of the Grey Wardens.

"Speaking of your fellow Grey Warden..."

Kallian fixed her eyes on Zevran's face. "Yes?"

"He is unusually moody today and things seem strained between the two of you. Is everything alright?"

She was quiet for a time, as though she was trying to make a decision, and then she spoke. "Our camp is not that private, Zevran. You must have some idea what's going on."

Smiling, he shrugged. "He has a great deal of affection for you, as do most of your companions. Sten, I am not so sure about, however."

Kallian sat on a nearby log, putting her daggers down beside her. "Yes, well, Sten feels I have no idea how to deal with the arch demon and apparently I am not working hard enough on a plan. I told him I was thinking I could just ask it to leave, but he didn't find that very amusing."

"I do not imagine he would. Alistair, yes. Sten, no."

"He will change his mind about me." Kallian tried to suppress a smile, barely succeeding.

Zevran found himself enjoying watching her try to keep her secret. She was up to something, this he knew, but what? Leaving the Brecilian Forest, she had insisted they stop at Lake Calenhad on their way to Orzammar. There, she had sent their party into the Spoiled Princess to purchase a round of drinks and rooms for the night while she had spoken to a scavenger outside.

In the morning, they resumed their trip to Orzammar and upon arrival there she had spent some time locked in a heated conversation with a merchant outside the gates to the dwarven city. He had looked far less happy when she'd finished with him, but she would not tell anyone what was going on, other than to say she would need to stop in Redcliffe Village on the return trip to Redcliffe Castle.

"I think you changed the subject, my dear."

Kallian was quiet again, chewing the inside of her cheek and examining her boots. After a moment, she looked up. "Zevran, may I ask you something? I need some…advice."

Laughing, Zevran sat on a nearby stump to face her, an exaggerated look of surprise on his face. "Oh, this should be good."

Kallian rolled her eyes. "Yes, well..."

Zevran grinned. "I am intrigued. What do you wish to talk about?"

"Humans, I suppose. I did not have much experience with humans before going on this little adventure, and I...Zevran? Could you please not look at me as though you are doing whatever it is you're imagining?" His eyes had wandered to her bosom.

His eyes lingered a moment and then wandered back up to meet hers. "I am sorry. I promise to behave."

"Pfft. You are right about Alistair. He loves me, but I…I wish to remain friends, and now things are strained, as you say." She kicked at a rock in front of her, something the would-be-Templar-turned-Warden Alistair might do, Zevran observed.

"The few humans I dealt with before joining the Grey Wardens were mean and vengeful creatures and I worry about what I have done. I might have…no, I have sent him mixed messages and toyed with his affections, though I did not mean to hurt him. He is rightfully upset with me." She chewed on her bottom lip for a moment. "Ugh…Do you think...will he be alright?"

"You are asking me for advice in matters of an intimate nature?"

"Yes. No! I mean…there wasn't...We kissed, that is all...damn it." Shut up, she told herself angrily as she felt her cheeks warming.

And there it is, he thought. The path to her bed is clear. "My dear Warden, you are blushing. You look quite lovely when you blush."

Kallian distracted herself by reaching down to pet Lucius who had wandered over to sit at her feet. He put his head in her lap and Zevran found himself feeling envious of the smelly hound.

"You know Alistair better than I, dear lady, but if you are asking will he hold a grudge, I would say no. Indeed, some men will kill over such matters, but not your Alistair. I think you would have to offend him greatly on a moral level to lose his favour. At worst, he will be the petulant child for a time."

"Hmm. Thank you, Zevran." He could see that she was grinding away at a new problem, chewing on her upper lip now. I should like to nibble on that lip.

In truth, Kallian was contemplating her relationship with Zevran. She was attracted to him and their conversations of late had become increasingly flirtatious. Her inexperience in such matters, however, had her uncertain of how to proceed. Shianni had only told her about sex and what to expect on her wedding night, barely anything more. They had been drinking, she recalled, and the conversation had deteriorated into fits of giggles within a few pints.

"I have been curious." Zevran stretched and smoothed his clothes again before crossing his arms over his chest and fixing his gaze on Kallian. "How did you become a Grey Warden?"

The question hit Kallian like a stone fist spell and she was not prepared for her reaction to it. None of her companions, not even Alistair, had asked how she came to be a Grey Warden and she had begun to believe they never would. Duncan, who knew all too well what had happened, had tried to get her to open up about the events that lead to her conscription, but she had refused. He had warned her against repressing her emotions, told her to allow herself her grief, but she had not heeded his advice. The dam will break one day if you do not, he had said, and she had not realized what he meant until now.

Her desire to keep the past in the past was so strong that she had not even been in touch with her family since she'd been conscripted eight months ago. They would think she was dead, and in truth she had wished she were for the longest time. She knew Zevran would understand this, but she could not bring herself to talk about it. Not yet. She struggled to maintain her control.

Zevran could not help but notice the Warden's response. Her gaze, which was always firmly planted on his face when they spoke, shifted to the ground near her feet, but not before he noticed her eyes glistened with tears. Her body stiffened, her chin quivered slightly, and though she tried to contain her emotions, her voice was not as confident as usual when she finally spoke.

"Conscription." She cleared her throat and tried to take a deep, calming breath without drawing Zevran's attention.

"I am sorry; did you say you were conscripted?" He had always assumed she was a volunteer because her dedication to the order and their cause was strong.

"Yes."

"My dear lady, you sound like Sten." Zevran attempted humour, sensing that Kallian was on the verge of breaking. He found himself distressed at the thought, which only served to put him further on edge. He was not used to caring how others felt.

It almost worked. A short, harsh laugh escaped Kallian's lips, but then she sobbed. Looking slightly horrified, her hand flew to her mouth and she tried to turn away from Zevran. With his usual speed and grace, he was at her feet, holding her face in his hands, wiping her tears away with his thumbs.

Kallian was stunned. This was a side of Zevran she had not seen before. This was not the man who was constantly on the lookout for his next sexual encounter; the cold-hearted assassin, plotting the death of a mark; the man who took pleasure in a well-executed kill. That he might care for her seemed an absurd notion, given what she thought she knew of Zevran, but she had grown fond of him and hoped...what? She wasn't entirely certain what she had hoped, but it did not matter now. What mattered now was not breaking down. 'Fearless leader' my ass.

She wanted to move, to run away and hide, but she couldn't. The warmth of his hands, the way he was looking at her with such tenderness, the smell of him, that delicious scent she couldn't quite place, was so…comforting and after a moment, she felt a bit better. The dam might hold a while longer. Kallian's hands found his and pressed them to her face.

Zevran was just as lost in his own thoughts. If she were still a mark, this would be perfect. She was vulnerable, needing comfort, ripe for the picking as it was said. She would be in his bed shortly and could kill her easily. But she was not his mark and this felt wrong and he realized he was bothered by the fact that it felt wrong. He had not been above taking advantage of such circumstances in the past. What is stopping me now?

"Zev?" Kallian's breath on his wrists was warm and inviting.

He let go of her, standing suddenly. "I am sorry, I should not have..."

"No…do not apologize." She stood and reached out to put a hand on Zevran's arm.

Taking a deep breath, she continued. "I...I killed a…several men. In self defence, I swear it, but…" Kallian shrugged, not having to say she would have been sentenced to death regardless of the circumstances. "You can imagine what that would mean for an elf."

He could imagine, quite well in fact. He was surprised, but more than that, he was angry. He could imagine quite well what might move this magnanimous young woman to kill several men in self defence and he found himself greatly disturbed that she may have suffered a physical or sexual assault for a human's amusement. This happened all too often in alienages, he knew, and the thought was abhorrent to him. And yet, he had overheard numerous late-night conversations between the two Grey Wardens and recalled she had confessed to being a virgin, something about not licking lampposts in winter.

She cleared her throat again, swallowing hard. "I cannot speak of this any more right now, I…"

"I understand." Zevran cursed his hand for finding hers, as though it had a mind of its own, but he could not bring himself to pull away from her a second time, not while she was obviously distressed. Instead, he squeezed it gently, saying "We should return to camp; we are losing light."

Glancing to the skies, Kallian nodded. Gathering her daggers, she whistled to Lucius, who quickly stood at her side. With a wave of her hand, she sent him on his way. Wrapping her cloak around herself, she nodded to Zevran and they were off.

Their return to camp drew little attention. Morrigan had set up her tent and a fire a distance away from the rest of the group and was preparing her bed. Sten was meditating; Oghren was drinking; Leliana was sitting with Wynne, telling a story; Alistair was hunched over the cauldron, stirring its contents. It was Alistair who looked up and turned away quickly, avoiding eye contact with Kallian. She sighed and turned to Zevran.

"I need to speak to Morrigan, but could we talk later? Sten has offered to take watch for the night, but you know me…can't sleep. I wonder if you might like to keep me company. We could talk…about…stuff" she finished lamely.

Zevran bowed his head to her. "It would be a pleasure, my dear Warden." He waited until she had reached Morrigan's side before turning to join the others at the fire for something to eat.