Title: Intersecting Fates
Author: Burning Silence
Rating: T
Summary: A human mage and Grey Warden travels across Fereldan to stop a Blight…and learns that not everything is as simple as she once thought.
Author's Note: So…this is my first DA:O story that I'm attempting (even though I'm terribly behind in updates to my Oblivion stories). This chapter was just to get the feel for the different characters and such. The next chapter should be much more detailed…and hopefully longer. Also, I'm a little rusty, but after a bit, I'm going to go over this chapter again and re-work it. Anyway, this is ongoing, but I can't promise very prompt updates, since I am working on three other stories, and dealing RL drama…and holidays.
Chapter I: The Fool
"So, being raised in the Chantry…does that mean you never…well, you know?" came the unusually blunt question from Faustine Amell.
Alistair supposed that being raised in the Circle, completely cut-off from the outside world would likely…inhibit one's subtlety, but with how reserved Faustine normally was, this question took him quite off guard.
She must have been wondering about this for quite some time. Levity was his best bet to avoid this potentially awkward situation.
"Have I never…what? Never had a good pair of shoes, seen a basilisk, licked a lamppost in winter?"
A pout came over Faustine's pretty face, "You're making fun of me."
"Make fun of you, dear lady? I would never!" Alistair exclaimed, adopting his most 'innocent' expression. "So tell me then, have you ever licked a lamppost in winter?"
Faustine blushed and then scowled. She supposed it was fair for him to ask her that, (because as naïve as she was, there was no doubt what the 'lamppost' question was about), since she had just blurted out her own query out of the blue.
She smoothed her dark hair out of her face and folded her arms as she replied, "No, I have never licked a lamppost in winter."
"Oh, that's good. I understand it's quite painful. One of the younger recruits did it on a dare once and it was awful. There was pointing and laughing…oh the humanity." Noticing the girl's scowl, he cleared his throat, "I've, uh, never done that either. Not that I haven't thought about it."
Great, now he was even more embarrassed.
"Oh…so…you've never had the opportunity?"
Oh, why wouldn't she drop this subject?
He let out a nervous laugh, "The Chantry isn't a place for rambunctious young boys. I was taught be a gentleman around beautiful women such as yourself." Oops, he hadn't meant to say that. "I mean, we were taught about courting young women."
Here, he cast her a peculiar look and continued on, "Wouldn't…you want to be courted?"
Oh, now that was an interesting question…She hadn't thought on it much. The only time it even entered her mind was when Cullen was concerned, and it wasn't like anything could have happened there, what with him being a Templar and all.
She pursed her lips and answered, "Well…I suppose. Maybe, if it were the right gentleman."
"O-of course, yes, I see what you mean. Well, uh, I better get back to, um, whatever I was going to do before," Alistair replied, looking a little worse for wear.
He began to head off towards his tent when he heard Faustine call out, "You were going to collect more firewood, remember?"
"Right! I was just going to go do that!"
Faustine shook her head and headed back towards her tent. They would need to head out again in the morning, since they'd already taken care of securing the Dalish's assistance with the impending Blight. That whole situation had been…rather depressing. As soon as she laid down on her bedroll, she turned to her side and exhaled abruptly.
Seeing the result of her own kind's cruelty towards the Dalish had been disheartening. Despite the fact she'd pitied the werewolves…humans…that she'd encountered earlier, she couldn't think that Zathrian was wrong with the revenge he'd dealt.
Though…four centuries was an awfully long time to hold onto such hate.
She sat up and took her hair down from the two buns she wore during the day and ran her fingers through her hair, trying to loosen it from around her scalp.
The mage sighed, they'd need to move on tomorrow. She'd take Alistair, Morrigan and Leliana with her to scout a path first. It just wouldn't do to be surprised by anymore darkspawn.
Hell, Faustine didn't think she could handle anymore surprises.
"Mmm…what? I…oh…"
Faustine had to fight the urge to kick their new 'guest' in the teeth as he began to wake up. After all, they did need to question him.
The blond, cinnamon-skinned elf looked up at her and seemed to become a little more alert.
"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," he commented in a thick, Antivan accent.
"I have some questions," the mage gritted out, still extremely angry for being ambushed the way they were.
"Ah! So I'm to be interrogated? Let me save you some time," he paused to clear his throat. "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. Which I have failed at, sadly."
Faustine arched an eyebrow, "I'm rather happy you failed."
The assassin smiled, showing his white teeth and hurriedly said, "So would I be, in your shoes. For me, however, it sets a rather poor precedent, doesn't it? Getting captured by a target seems a tad detrimental to ones budding assassin career."
"Too bad for you," came the Warden's caustic reply. She wasn't exactly moved by Zevran's plight. It might've been different, you know, if he hadn't tried to kill her and her friends.
"It's true, too bad for me."
Tired of dancing around the issue, Faustine bit out, "Who hired you to kill us?"
"A rather…taciturn fellow in the capital. Loghain, I think his name was?"
Faustine stiffened when she heard the teyrn's name, "Does that mean you're loyal to Loghain?"
The Antivan shrugged his shoulders and replied, "I have no idea what his issues are with you. The usual, I imagine, you threaten his power, yes? Beyond that, no. I am not loyal to him. I was contracted to perform a service."
She let a small smile grace her features, despite her anger. "And now that you've failed that service?"
"Well," he started, "That's between Loghain and the Crows. And between myself and the Crows."
"And between you and me?"
Zevran made a sly face before commenting, "Isn't that was we are establishing now?"
Faustine glared and crossed her arms, "Why are you telling me this?" It wasn't like she could trust he had noble issues. He did just try to kill them.
"Why not? I wasn't paid for silence. Not that I offered it for sale, precisely."
"Aren't you at least loyal to you employer?" the mage asked, more out of frustration and curiosity than anything else.
Zevran looked thoughtful for a moment, "Loyalty is an interesting concept. If you wish, and when you are done interrogating me, we can discuss it further."
"Make it quick."
"Well, here's the thing. I failed to kill you, so my life is forfeit. That's how it works. 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."
"You must think I'm royally stupid," the brunette said, lightly.
"I think you're royally tough to kill," the elf said, before a roguish look passed over his countenance. "And utterly gorgeous. Not that I think you respond to simply flattery," he defended. "But there are worse things in life than serving the whims of a deadly sex goddess."
Well now, she wasn't quite sure what to say about that. But she could sure feel her face burning up. She had to consciously fight the urge to hide her blushing face and maintain a confident appearance, and she was positive everyone else could see her embarrassment. And she was suddenly very self-conscious of the Chasind robes she was wearing
Now she really wished she'd been able to salvage her mage's robes after Ostagar.
She hastily cleared her throat, "What do you want in return?"
Faustine sighed. 'Is it a good idea to even consider the assassin's offer?' she questioned herself. Though, if she thought about it, her voice of caution sounded quite a bit like Alistair.
Now there was a frightening concept.
Zevran looked a mite confused for a moment, before continuing on, "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 will go on my way. Until then, I am yours. Is that fair?"
She sighed again; she was so going to regret this, "Very well. I accept your offer."
"What?" Alistair blurted out from behind her. "We're taking the assassin now? Does that really seem like a good idea?"
Faustine turned to the Templar and pouted. She really hated when people had doubts about decisions she'd made when she already had enough doubts about them herself. "We could use him," she stated, trying to convince herself more than him, it seemed.
Alistair looked reluctant, but conceded anyway. He did however, add, "If there was ever a sign we were desperate, I think it just knocked on the door and said hello."
"A fine plan," Morrigan jumped in. "But I would examine your food and drink far more closely from now on."
"That's excellent advice for anyone," Zevran chirped.
The younger mage just shook her head and helped their would-be assassin up off of the ground.
"If you make me regret my decision, I will make you regret it," she huffed at the elf.
Zevran flashed her a charming smile and lifted her hand to his lips, "Then, I will do my best not to disappoint you."
Really, if he didn't stop making her blush, she just might kill him anyway.
"You know, my dear Warden, I could help you with dinner," Zevran offered, smirking slightly.
"Right," Faustine drawled. "I'm going to trust you with food."
"I am merely trying to offer whatever services may be needed to the beautiful woman who spared my life."
"And your target, don't forget I was your target first," she quipped.
"Ah! Past tense! You see? You were my target, but no longer," he grinned at her.
She glared half-heartedly, "I don't care what you say; I still don't trust you with anything I'm going to put in my mouth."
The look Zevran had on his face after she said this was decidedly lascivious and Faustine's face heated, trying to think of any other way what she had said might be interpreted.
"Oh, but my darling…"
"I don't want to know what you're thinking! Get that look off of your face! Go sit next to Alistair…or Morrigan! Maybe she'll turn you into a toad," she huffed, going back to her pot of stew, blushing furiously.
"Alas, you wound me with your constant rejections! How can you be so cruel?" he pouted.
"Off with you," she waved him off, trying to smother a grin. "And don't come back until supper is ready."
She waited until he left (presumably to harass the other women) before she let out a small giggle. She supposed it was a bit of a novelty to be flirted with so blatantly. Of course, she was still horribly embarrassed by it, but she supposed it was still nice to be noticed for something that didn't have to do with fighting, or darkspawn.
Even if he only did so in jest.
"My, such fearsome scowls, Alistair," came Morrigan's taunting voice.
"You're still breathing, I see."
"Do not take your anger out on me. 'Tis not my fault you are too cowardly to 'make a move', if you will," she snapped.
Alistair glared at the witch, "I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Oh, so you look as if you would like nothing better than to skewer our failed assassin on your sword merely out of 'distrust'."
"Don't you have souls to suck out of men, or whatever it is you do? You must be getting awfully far behind," the man grumbled.
Morrigan raised an eyebrow at Alistair's attitude, "If you do not wish for my insight, then far be it from me to force it upon you. I merely thought you would like to hear an objective view point in this situation. Clearly, I was mistaken."
Before the witch could turn around and leave, Alistair called out, "Why would you care?"
"Perhaps it is merely because I am bored and have nothing better to do, other than listen to the elf's half-hearted attempts to talk Leliana into his tent."
The blond man nodded, "Alright, I can buy that."
"I'm so relieved," the brunette rolled her eyes.
Alistair had suspected it was more than that, since he'd often spied Faustine sitting in Morrigan's camp and talking with her well into the night. The young mage seemed to have a small case of 'hero-worship' when it came to the apostate. He could understand that. It must be refreshing for Faustine to be around another relatively young woman, but one who was free from the constraints of the Circle.
He just hoped that her infatuation with Morrigan wouldn't lead her down an unsavory path.
Then Alistair's brows furrowed, "What do you mean 'half-hearted'?"
Morrigan smirked, "Finally caught on to that, did you? All I meant was that I do not think he is very serious in his flirtation. Perhaps it amuses him to fluster the women so. Though, I daresay that our 'fearless leader's' reactions aren't quite what I would expect of her. She seems more embarrassed than disgusted."
"W-what's your point?"
The apostate sighed, this man was truly ignorant. The only reason she was even doing this was because she was concerned for the party's welfare and their current objective if Faustine were somehow influenced by this Zevran.
It surely could not be any other reason, despite how close she and the Circle mage had gotten.
Morrigan was worried that the assassin's exoticism would win the young girl over, (really she was horribly innocent), and would thus lead her into making decisions that she weren't beneficial to make.
Such as sparing his life.
Though, she'd always been very soft-hearted. That impression had been compounded when Faustine revealed to Morrigan the reasons for her leaving the Circle and becoming a Grey Warden. And her desire to 'fix' everything around her.
"All I'm saying, Alistair, is that Faustine is very young and very sheltered. She is easily more influenced than someone like, say, Leliana, or myself. And if you ever wish to accomplish anything with her, you will need to be straightforward about it."
"I-I have no idea what you're talking about! We're done talking about this!" Alistair exclaimed, drawing attention from just about everyone in camp, including Faustine's mabari.
Morrigan huffed and stood up, "Fine, suit yourself. But if you find that an opportunity you had at one point isn't there anymore, remember you have no one to blame but yourself."
Alistair, he'd noticed as they all crowded around for dinner, seemed quite flustered, while the witch (he'd come to know her name was Morrigan) kept flashing him fearsome glares. Zevran chuckled to himself when he saw the templar fidget uncomfortably as he sat next to him, with Faustine across the way next to Morrigan and Leliana. And apparently the Qunari had declined dinner in favour of going hunting with the mage's dog.
At least, that's what it sounded like when Faustine had complained about the dark man not wanting to eat her cooking. For such an accomplished warrior, she acted very young.
Of course, he didn't really know how old she was; sometimes it was difficult to tell with humans. And she did look rather young. Alistair, too, for that matter.
"Well? Why are you just picking at your supper? It's not like I'm the one known for poisoning unsuspecting people, now am I?" Faustine glared at the assassin.
"Ah, but my dear, I am not unsuspecting, now am I?" he winked at her. She did colour every so prettily. It was quite endearing.
"A pity," Morrigan interjected.
Faustine raised her eyebrows as she glanced over at the older woman, trying to stifle her grin. It was obvious she enjoyed the swamp witch's company.
And it was even more glaringly obvious that the swamp witch detested his presence.
"Well, I suppose on that note I have to now prove that it isn't poisoned," the mage quipped. Before anyone could say anything, she reached over with her spoon and took a bite of Zevran's portion of the stew. After chewing a few times, she swallowed and smiled, "See?"
And with that, she settled back into her spot, leaving quite a few members of her party dumbfounded.
However, Zevran found it charming.
The Fool:
Choice. When presented possibilities in the game of living, choose wisely, for the decisions you make now affect your whole life. Immature and reckless behavior can result in making bad decisions.
