Fandom: Dragon Age: Origins
Title: A Slice of a Warden's Life (Get it? Because...it's like, a slice of life. Yeah, anyway.)
Rating: PG, nothing crazy. (Though some G-rated things are just insane.)
Genre: General, humor.
Pairing: Very light Zevran/M!Surana.
Word count: 863
Author's Ramble: I wrote this in my notebook during Logic class yesterday (I took notes like a good student!), and then I finished it on Word during my hour break. First fic I have ever written since...since 2006 or 2007 actually. Most of the fics I have written were in my head. I have been picturing them in my head like it they were movie shorts of some kind (so yeah, I got a lot of these). And honestly, I think those thoughts are better in my head than actually written down.

The group was making their way to Orzammar through the cold tracks of the Frostback Mountains. While Rhys Surana did not mind the cold weather, he was having a little trouble trying not to slip and tumble down the snowy peak. 'Don't think about it.' Rhys told himself as he gripped onto his staff, which he was using as a walking stick. This along with donning a cloak made him feel like an old man, but it was better than being a freezing lump in the snow.

Alistair and Leliana were walking ahead while the bard was explaining the Templar why girls find Zevran so attractive. 'Alistair is probably jealous.' The mage thought amusingly. But from what he had heard from Zevran's tales of his mission, such as the one he was talking about now, even men seem to find him rather attractive too. It wasn't that men finding Zevran attractive was strange to Rhys since same sex coupling wasn't completely uncommon in the Circle Tower. Everyone had their own opinion of what beauty was. And it seemed that Alistair couldn't see why Zevran was considered handsome.

Handsome…yes, Rhys agreed that Zevran was handsome, and the assassin knew it himself. Dark skin, a complexion that shows he was experienced, blond hair neatly braided, eyes that functioned like a mask as if to hide his true thoughts from friend and foe alike, and his quick witty retorts that could easily baffle or amuse anyone- Rhys included. Zevran had been to places, met different people, and was rewarded for killing them, unlike a mage who had been locked up in a Tower for most of his life and killing another mage would result to being killed anyway or even Tranquiled. He had experience in combat and in…bed. It was no surprise to the mage that he was the mirror opposite of him. After all, they had lead very different lives.

Before becoming a Grey Warden, Rhys never stepped out beyond the courtyard of the Circle Tower. The only thing dark about his skin was the blue tattoo he had that covered the area around his eyes, particularly the dark circles that had formed during those sleepless nights. In a sense, the tattoo functioned like a literal mask. Even so, the mage had a hard time hiding his emotions, often looking away from people in his attempts. He was reserved by nature and he would surprise anyone including himself if he were to speak any witty or even rude retorts that would come to his mind. In most cases so far, Rhys thought it was a good thing to be able to hold his tongue in the midst of a conversation that had the possibility to become a heated one.

Some conversations did end in violence though, and the group would be forced to resort to killing. Rhys never killed a man before leaving the Tower, and the first time he did, he had found himself staring at the body the whole time while everyone else was recovering. Most of the time the result of using Crushing Prison came with a grotesque, contorted body that would fascinate and surprise Rhys at the same time. Zevran was used to seeing death, especially since he was usually the one who would happily deliver it. But the assassin had just explained how Crows buy their would-be assassins young and train them and those that did poorly in their training die.

'Harrowing.'

"That sounds awful." The mage commented.

Zevran shrugged, "Oh, I don't know about that. The Crows who were actually good enough to survive come to enjoy some of the benefits."

"Benefits?"

"In Antiva, being a Crow gets you respect. It gets you wealth. It gets you women…and men." Rhys couldn't tell if it was the snow or his cloak, but he could have sworn that Zevran was staring at him now. "Or whatever it is you fancy."

That last part reminded Rhys what he was thinking about before he made all those crazy comparisons between himself and Zevran. He shook his head and laughed at himself for over thinking sometimes. "But that does not mean doing what is expected of you always," he continued, "And it means being expendable. It's a cage, if a gilded cage. Pretty, but confining."

'He was in a prison too.'

'Prison...' The image of the contorted body came to mind again as Rhys pushed it away. 'Don't think about it,' he told himself again as he attempted to stay on topic. This conversation was taking him back to his original thought anyway, "So what is it do you fancy exactly?" He asked casually. As he listened to Zevran's reply, he couldn't help but shake his head lightly at himself for over thinking. He made a mental reminder to stop doing that or his mind would literally become a crushing prison.

"…would you be offended if I said I fancied you?"

When Alistair felt the mage's body slamming onto his, sending them both tumbling down to the trail, he was ultimately convinced that the assassin, who was laughing his sneaky, sneaky little ass off with Leliana (why was she laughing too?) was really trying to kill them after all.

Huh. That looked longer in my notebook. LOL

I have no idea if Crushing Prison actually does that to a person. It sure does look like physical pain as well as a heavy aneurysm though. To me, it's like getting an unwanted bear hug. To the death. Did I mention that this was completely unbeta'd? Anyway, thanks for reading! Reviews are fine too.