AN: I have put the translations at the end of the paragraph rather than in footnote format. I hate scrolling down and back when I read, so I've opted for this way. I just hope it doesn't bother anyone too much.


Desperation

Leliana's eyes scan the surrounding area as the troubled woman Lyna reluctantly agreed to help dashes ahead of them. She tilts her head as a thought strikes her. Her sing-song voice, thick with her Orlesian accent, breaks into Lyna's private thoughts dragging her back into the now. "You know, Lyna, these cliffs would be perfect for-"

"The warden dies here." His lilting accent cuts through Leliana's observation. Lyna and Leliana glance at each other and giggle. Archers come forward on the rocks above on each side of them with their bow trained on the warden and her companions. Other fighters come from behind an overturned wagon each man is armed and ready for a fight. A tree topples over behind the traveling companions to effectively cut off any thoughts of retreat.

With a girlish squeal of delight, Lyna claps her hands. "An ambush? Lel, you got me an ambush?" Lyna excitedly hugs Leliana, "This will be so much fun! You do get me the best presents."

Leliana curtsies gracefully, pulling her bow in the process. "You are so hard to buy a gift for and I know your name day is coming…"

Sten growls angrily. Wynn sighs resignedly. Leliana shrugs sheepishly, biting her lip in anticipation. Lyna simply laughs, patting Sten mid-chest affectionately. "Now, Sten, I can't ignore a challenge like that. Besides, they went through all this trouble to set up this ambush just for me. The least we can do is-"

"Parshaara, is everything a game to you?" Sten's gaze pierces Lyna, pinning her to the spot. While he remains stern his tone has softened.

Lyna playfully bats her emerald green eyes up at him, "They won't let us go without a fight."

Grunting he acknowledges the truth in her statement. Sten's silver eyes harden as he quickly locates the largest threats. His two handed sword is released from its sheath with an ominous ring of scraping metal. "Leliana take the archers on the right; Wynn takes the left; Kadan with me and watch for traps."

Dual blades ring a metallic chorus as they're pulled from their sheaths, "Love when you talk strategy, it's so sexy."

Leliana concentrates her skills on the archers to the right keeping the cross fire to a minimum with her rapid aim. Wynn assists with the archers to the left adding protective wards and healing spells thrown in the mix. Before them are three men and the woman they met on the road. Sten heads straight to the challenging man with the lilting accent, Asala in hand, when a fireball screaming past. Lyna squeals, "Mage!"

Lyna slips into what few shadows she finds, dodging and advancing, more often than not using Sten's shadow as cover. The accented man stands with a self assured smirk patiently waiting for Sten to reach him. Slowly, deliberately he pulls dual daggers and takes a battle ready stance.

Sten's pale eyes glance across the men before him, daring them to come forward and one takes the bait. With a howling war cry he charges forward, sword slicing the air before him, shield held at the ready. Sten watches, fients and rounds his sword at his shield side throwing the charging man off balance. Quick as lightening, Lyna is behind the shield bearing foe, slicing along the tendons behind his knee bringing him down with a cry of pain. Asala slides with precision, power, grace and force severing the man's head from his body.

The telltale metallic click of a sprung trap is Sten's cue that his approach is now clear. Growling deep within his chest, Sten approaches. He swings Asala easily as it hums in the charged air around them, mentally preparing for the coming assault. There is no fear in the man's gaze as he watches Sten and his singing blade.

"Now!" Wynne's voice rings out. Lyna suddenly appears behind the mage startling her. With a piercing dagger jab to her lower back, Lyna punctures her kidney breaking the mage's concentration. The mage cries out in pain whipping around to face her attacker, allowing the large stone fist barreling her way to go unguarded. The mage drops to the ground as Lyna dodges carefully. To finish things cleanly, Lyna slits the mage's throat, swipes her blade along the woman's robe effectively cleaning off the excess blood before slipping back into Sten's shadow.

Closer now, Lyna spots the man who called out the challenge. Still as ever, poised for battle, the man is short for a human, yet tall for an elf with tan skin and blond hair. Her steps slow, noting the vallaslin on him, a design she doesn't recognize in its simplicity. She moves quickly back to Sten's side hissing to him under her breath. "Don't kill the elf."

Growling deeply Sten faces the second man, a human swinging an oversized two handed hammer in a wide arc. The man swings his weapon skillfully Lyna catches his attention by surprise, freeing Sten to approach the elf. The human is taller than Lyna, so his reach is far. Lyna tumbles out of range taunting him forward giggling as she goes. His eyes narrow, he sneers and brings the hammer down with force. Lyna feints to the right and dances off to the left with an arrow slipping past her from Leliana's bow. He staggers staring blankly at the arrow embedded deep in his chest. Standing behind him, Lyna brings her daggers in, plunging them upwards into his sides. "Ma halam." (You are finished.)

Asala swings with accuracy, yet the elf is nimble and quick, dodging and dancing avoiding Sten's blows. The gleam in his golden eyes promises a death dance as his daggers block yet another swing from Sten. "Parshaara," Sten glowers.

Lyna smiles up at Sten, "Hmm, talk dirty to me, Lethallin." He growls deeply. She giggles and slipping back into shadows.

The elf's eyes dart from Sten to Lyna, noting her approach on his left, openly moving towards him, daggers in hand with a weary look in her eyes. "Ar'din nuvenin na'din." (I don't want to kill you.)

Sten takes advantage of this moment, noting his distraction and pommels the man causing him to stagger momentarily. Bringing his attention back to Sten, he shakes his head once to clear his vision, meeting a fist to his jaw and the man drops quickly.

Sten along with Wynn's magic and Leliana's timely and strategically placed arrows in assistance, they work to finish the others. Lyna stares at the elf for a moment until he stirs with a soft groan. Lyna slips her dagger under his chest plate, slicing delicately at his belly. She notes two daggers and plucks them from him before moving on. Making her way towards the upper rock areas springing traps on her way.

Noting the dead bodies, Lyna grins happily. Leliana's accuracy is evident along with scorched areas showing Wynn's handiwork. She turns on her heel, twirling her daggers quickly. "Oh, playing dead, Shem?"

She laughs merrily taunting the human who failed to sneak up on her. Dagger to dagger, the man keeps up with her, feints and jabs, the pair fight. His reach is longer, she's forced to move more often and yet her small frame and lithe moves keep her dancing. For a petite Dalish elf, she is strong and deadly. Since she became a gray warden her strength is enhanced as is her agility. Her time in the Fade broadened her mind, made her think, using strategies, making her more cunning. She moves watching his responses and toys with him. She slows her movements luring him in with a false sense of victory.

Lyna stumbles back and gasps, looking up at him with wide eyes. He's on her immediately, pressing his advantage. The sneer on his face, the pure hate in his eyes is matched only by hers. He brings his blades down to finish her and she laughs. "Falas." (Slow)

Quickly she steps to his left, slipping her left dagger across his midriff and along his side. She continues around behind him as he staggers, plunging her right dagger into his kidneys. Coming back to his front she smiles up at him. "Emma shem'nan." She brings her blades across his throat, she watches as his life gurgles from the gaping wound. With a satisfying thud his body goes limp and slumps to the ground. Her breathing is ragged. (My revenge is swift.)

A soft groan catches her attention. Her head snaps around, fear tears at her gut. If one of the companions is hurt due to her carelessness…

Relief floods her as a small smile graces her face. She should have known better. Sten stands over the injured elf, arms crossed and a deep scowl set on his stubborn, handsome face. Crouching beside him is Leliana with an arrow in hand, the tip directed at the man's chest. Wynne is looking feverishly in a pack presumably for lyrium.

"Nice work." Lyna swipes the blood from her blades on the grass before sheathing them.

Sten grunts keeping his eyes firmly on the wounded man. Leliana beams happily and pokes the man's torso with the tip of an arrow. He groans again getting the attention of Wynne who clucks her disapproval. "Leliana, really. How are we to question him if you kill him?"

Lyna joins her companions nestles before Sten. Her small elvish frame conforms against his long leg comfortably as if she's always belonged there. Growing up wandering the Dales, Lyna mistrusts humans. They deceive, they steal, they kill, they kidnap, they enslave and they rape, so she still finds it hard to trust the humans she travels with. Yet the Qunari are very upfront with their intentions and needs. She takes comfort in Sten's strength and honesty. He is her personal talking, walking, breathing tree that she leans on often.

Lyna's eyes travel the stranger's form from top to bottom appreciating his strong muscular body and roguish good looks. She tilts her head. He doesn't quite look Dalish, yet he has vallaslin. Even if it is strange and unknown to her. A city elf then? Perhaps he is an abomination? He could be half human yet his ears are not flat enough.

They watch silently as Wynne heals him enough to bring him around. Wynne backs away as he starts to stir and gives Lyna a nod of assurance. Lyna nods in return. "Ma serannas, Wynne."

The elf on the grass bats his eyes groaning trying to focus. Their eyes meet, staring for a long silent filled pause. A handsome smile graces his face. He lifts his torso as if to sit only to be stopped. Lyna pushes him back down with her foot none too gently. His eye twinges briefly yet that is the only indication of any discomfort, annoyance or emotion.

Leliana's arrowhead slips along his bare throat, "Not so fast… you are no mere bandit. Hmm?"

"Oh no, he's no bandit." Lyna pulls one of his daggers from her belt admiring it. "Bandits don't own daggers this nice," Handing one to Leliana, she pulls the other from her belt flipping it end over end in her hand. "Perfectly balanced, sharp and poisoned."

"And such fine leather," Leliana uses the man's dagger to slide along his chest. His hand immediately reaches his side with concern.

"I made sure not to damage it when I cut you." Lyna peers at him, her eyes traveling the design of his vallaslin.

"Thank you." He watches Lyna carefully with an amused grin, eyes flicking towards Sten, Leliana and Wynn before coming to rest once again on Lyna. "You are the Warden, no?"

"Yes." Lyna's expression remains passive and unreadable, even while her mind reels with questions. "You're an assassin."

"I am." He lies back on the grass, his grin never wavering.

"Ma emma harel." Her voice is cold, void of emotion, yet he stares at her unthwarted. "You are not Elvhen." (You should fear me.)

"I am half, is that what stayed your hand?" His brows furrow with curiosity and ever present amused grin.

Despite herself her tongue flicks across her lips. Something in her belly stirs with warning bells ringing in her head. Sten notes her unease and tenses. She leans back against him and tilts her head looking down at this half-Elvhen, a smirk playing on her lips. "I can change that if you like."

"Of that I have no doubt. You are most skilled." His voice is a melody of words, accented and flowing. His hand travels across his body to scratch at his chest. Her eyes watch him intently. A low growl comes from above Lyna as Sten watches, too. His hand stops moving as a gesture of good faith, holding his palms out for a moment.

He relaxes once more, measuring each one standing around him, weighing his options. "If you haven't killed me, however, you must have kept me alive for some purpose, yes?"

"Definitely not a common bandit," Leliana peers at him suspiciously. "You're too clever."

"It is my way, or so I am told." His grin broadens. "Let's see, then. I assume you kept me alive to ask me some questions, yes? If so, let me save you time and get right to the point." He raises his shoulders from the ground supporting his body on his elbows, yet makes no effort to get off the ground. "My name is Zevran, Zev to my friends. I am a member of the Antivan crows, brought here for the sole purpose of slaying any surviving Grey Wardens-"

"Wait," Lyna steals a glance at Leliana who is openly undressing the man with her eyes. "Antiv-ah, wha?"

Leliana pipes in, her voice crooning excitedly, "Oh, 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. Someone went to great expense to hire this man."

Zevran eyes Leliana his smile becomes one of mutual appreciation. "Quite right." He frowns with mock disappointment towards Lyna, "I'm surprised you haven't heard much of the Crows out here. Back where I come from, we're rather infamous."

"Where I come from, I don't need to hire assassins. I am one." Lyna simply shrugs indifferently. "So who hired you?"

Zevran eyebrows furrow in thought. "A rather taciturn fellow in the capital. Loghain, I think his name was? Yes, that's it."

It is her turn to tense and growl. Her fists curl and uncurl at the mere mention of Logain's name. Her teeth clench so hard her jaw hurts. Sten barely moves yet he shifts his weight against her back and it calms her. Her mind is racing. Loghain, that idiot shemlen! She struggles to keep her tone even, pressing back against Sten for his strength. "When were you to see him next?"

Zevran shrugs. "I wasn't. If I had succeeded, I would have returned home and the Crows would have informed your Loghain of the results…" She bristles. "If I had failed, I would be dead. Or I should be, at least as far as the Crows are concerned. No need to see Loghain then."

Lyna snorts. "If you fail…"

Zevran grins. "What can I say? I am an eternal optimist. Although the chances of succeeding at this point seem a bit slim, don't they? Ha, Ha. No, I don't suppose you'd find that funny, would you?"

Lyna sighs growing bored with this silly dance of words. "Why are you telling us all of this?"

"Why not? I wasn't paid for my silence. Not that I offered it for sale, precisely."

Lyna shakes her head. "There's no reason for us to believe anything you say."

"Oh, very true. Thus there's no reason for me not to tell you everything, is there?" He eyes the small elf in contemplation choosing his next words with care. "As it is, if you're done with the interrogation, I've a proposal for you. If you're of a mind to hear it."

Sten clears his throat. Leliana leans closer, her interest piqued. Wynn sniffs. Lyna takes a weary breath. "Talk fast, while I'm still listening…"

"Well, here's the thing. I failed to kill you, so my life is forfeit. That's how it works." He shrugs indifferently. "If you don't kill me, the Crows will. Thing is, I like living. And you obviously are the sort to give the Crows pause. So let me serve you, instead." His grin widens with the innuendo hanging in the air.

Lyna feels Sten move behind her. He is none too happy with this arrogant elf. Lyna on the other hand is intrigued. "Hmmm… and what do you want in return?"

Their eyes lock his smirk returns. "Well, let's see. Being allowed to live would be nice, and would make me marginally more useful to you. 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. Is that fair?"

Lyna's stomach flips again. He has such a smug look on that face. She should do Thedas a favor and kill him now. He tried to kill her and her companions and should not be allowed to live. Yet he failed, not only did he fail but when he had the chance he paused. He had her, she didn't defend herself, yet he didn't kill her. Sten is tense behind her, his voice is a low menacing growl, "And what's to stop you from finishing the job later?"

Zevran becomes serious for the first time in their conversation. "To be completely honest, I was never given much of a choice regarding joining the Crows. They bought me on the slave market when I was a child. I think I've paid my worth back to them, plus tenfold. The only way out, however, is to sign up with someone they can't touch." He nods pointedly at Lyna. "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."

Honesty, there is something she hadn't expected. He wants out of the Crows. That is why he hesitated. She watches him for a few moments and glances again at Leliana. Leliana bites her lip and looks hopeful at Lyna. Wynne simply shrugs and Sten offers no verbal opinion. His silent sneer on the other hand speaks volumes. She feels herself nodding, hears the words coming from her lips before she realizes she's saying it. "Very well. I accept your offer."

Leliana smiles at him. Her eyes dancing as she speaks. "Welcome, Zevran. Having an Antivan Crow join us sounds like a fine plan."

Zevran slowly, carefully, sits up. He turns his attentions to Leliana and gives her a thoroughly appraising smile. "Oh? You are another companion-to-be, then? I wasn't aware such loveliness existed amongst adventurers, surely."

Leliana rolls her eyes at him. Her eyes still full of mischief. "Or maybe not."

Zevran carefully stands, places his right hand on his chest and gives Lyna a curt nod. "I hereby pledge my oath of loyalty to you, until such a time as you choose to release me from it. I am your man, without reservation... this I swear."

Lyna looks up at him and swallows hard. "Right…" Sten spares a glance at Lyna. She feels rather than sees the movement above her. "We need to get back to camp."

She walks around the area ignoring the others, searching the bodies for anything useful and secretly for any evidence that this Zevran is lying to her. She finds a few potions, along with their weapons and gear. She sighs softly. Perhaps he is what he claims. Time will tell.

Sten makes his way to her with the bag of extra gear, crouches beside her and holds it open. She smiles at him only to feel her smile slip away. Sten is stoic. To put things mildly. His expression tends to remain the same, yet it's his eyes that show his soul. Lyna meets his harsh stare. "You're angry with me."

Sten remains quiet for a moment and sighs heavily. His severe look softens, "Is it wise to accept this assassin at his word? What of your mission? What will you do when he turns on you again only to succeed next time?"

She holds onto her temper. She doesn't like being questioned, second guessed, even by Sten. "You're starting to sound like the shem, Sten. Relax, what's one more assassin in our camp? Better to keep my enemies close." She puts the last of the salvageable weapons and armor in the bag and rests her hand on his cheek, cupping his face gently. Curbing her emotions and softening her tone. "Besides, that's why I have you…"

Sten holds her hand to his face, their eyes lock for a silent moment until broken, "and the slobber monster, but mostly you." She wrinkles her nose at the thought of the slobbering menace. It took some doing but she finally managed to get that damn mabari with bad breath to stop trying to sleep near her.

Their camp isn't far. They were on their way back when they were sidetracked by the would-be assassin. The impish warden leads the way, the women behind her and the men bringing up the rear. She listens quietly as Leliana and Zevran speak. Both with accents, both are assassins… like her. So really, one more assassin is not much of a stretch. She finds herself justifying Zevran's existence. Well no, she is justifying his continuing existence.

The slobbering menace is the first to greet them as they approach camp. The large war dog hops around playfully, barking and wagging his stump of a tail. The beast is so tall, if he were to stand on his hind legs, he'd be twice as tall as his master. He snorts and turns his attention to Zevran. He lowers on his haunches cautiously and tilts his head with curiosity. "Don't start, boy. I already have to answer to everyone else." Lyna tugs the mabari's ear affectionately before continuing into camp.

A welcoming fire is burning in the early dusk hours. Sten drops his burden. He looks pointedly at Zevran and then at the bag. Zevran nods his understanding and moves beside Lyna. "Okay so, everyone… this is Zevran. Let's see… the slobbering one sniffing at your… hmm…" Lyna snorts and looks away, "that's Ricky."

"Ricky? You named a mabari war hound… Ricky?" Zevran chuckles staring down at the dog, Ricky huffs at him. "Ah, I see you rather like the name, no?" Ricky barks and wags his stub tail. Zevran bows to the dog. "Then Ricky it is."

Lyna rolls her eyes. "You've met Sten of the Qunari." Sten glowers. Zevran nods his head. "You already met Leliana and Wynne. The drunk-dwarf there is Oghren, stay upwind if you can and the shem-"

Alastair huffs. "Ny, I thought we agreed that I'm not-"

"That's Alastair." She nods towards the far end of their camp. "The shemlen witch back there is Morrigan. You'll like her. She's feisty."

Morrigan saunters towards the center of camp. "How many more strays do you intend to gather?"

"As many that are willing to fight against the darkspawn." Lyna shrugs. "A handful of folks, some dwarf fighters and mages… some golems if we're lucky all fighting against a horde of darkspawn and worse, only two grey wardens to take on an archdemon. I dunno about your calculations, but according to mine, the odds aren't exactly in our favor."

Morrigan sniffs. "Yes, well…" She peers at Zevran. "I hope this one at least has a brain." She smirks at Alistair and walks away.

Dinner is uneventful with idle chit chat until the conversation comes around to the dreaded topic of how Zevran met the group. Alistair stiffens and glares at Zevran casting an incredulous glance at Lyna. She sighs heavily and makes an excuse to walk away.

She makes her way to the nearby stream with Ricky fast at her heels. "He's right you know… Ricky is a silly name for a slobber monster."

Ricky huffs and nudges her hard. She stumbles over her feet laughing. "Hey, I didn't name you. You liked the name just fine when Lel said it." She tugs his ear. "At least it isn't as silly as Bon-Bon." She says the name mimicking Leliana's Orlesian accent as best she can. Ricky barks in agreement.

Her laughter dies on her lips. She barely made it to the water's edge when he comes through the bushes behind her. There is an unmistakable edge to her voice, "Yes, Alistair?"

"Lyna…" Alistair sighs heavily. "I wish you didn't talk to me like that. I'm not like those other humans."

Lyna sits by the water watching Ricky splash around. "No you aren't like them, but you're still shemlen, you're human. It's hard to just switch a lifetime of prejudice off."

Alistair takes a seat beside her. "You don't talk to Leliana, Wynne or even Morrigan that way."

She smirks. "You're special?" Alistair snorts. "Okay, but you are a man." Lyna hugs her legs to her. "Human men are vile, harsh, rude, disgusting, perverted-"

"Oh hey, hey none of that…" Alistair's look is pained. "I'm a gentleman. You know that."

She lays her temple on her knee and grins. "Uh huh…"

"Tell me something." He changes the subject quickly. "You're taking the assassin with us now? Does that really seem like a good idea?"

Lyna thinks about this for a moment. No. She isn't sure if it is a good or bad idea. But she's agreed to it so… "No idea… but don't worry about it. We could use him."

Alistair sighs and leans back on his elbow. "Hmmm… alright I see your point. Still. If there was a sign we were desperate, I think it just knocked on the door and said hello."

Her eyes widen and she laughs. "I think it knocked when Morrigan came along. It said hello when Leliana joined us. It barged in when Wynne and Oghren showed up to travel with us. Honestly, I think desperation has simply gotten rid of the door altogether now."

Alistair chuckles and glances behind them. "And Sten?"

Biting her lip, Lyna shakes her head and grins sheepishly. "That was me knocking, not desperation."