Author's note: As silly as it sounds, when I created my Dalish Warden (the same one in 'Just a Dance'), I couldn't find eyebrows that would look good with the facial tattoo I had chosen, so I went without. Thanks to the tattoo, it didn't look wierd or anything, but it occured to me that others in the party (specifically Alistair, because he's not big on tact) might be curious about the lack, and ask. Here's the story I came up with to explain it. Enjoy!

"Sooo..." Alistair drawled as he walked up to Zilfayirin, and took a seat beside her.

"A needle pulling thread," she replied, her lips twitching as she sharpened her dagger.

The ex-templar blinked, "What?" he asked in confusion.

She looked up from her task, and raised a brow, "Sew, it means a needle pulling thread, does it not?"

Zevran, who had been on his way over to ask their leader back to his tent when the other Warden had arrived, perked up at her tone. He had been put out at being thwarted, especially considering how the warrior had been casting longing glances at his Dalish counterpart recently, but now he was sure that this was going to be a fairly entertaining exchange all the same. He took a seat nearby and waited to see where this conversation was going.

The human fighter was frowning, "What does that have to do with anything?"

"You said 'sew'," she replied, her eyes shining with mischief, "I thought perhaps you were testing my Common, but I'm sad to disappoint you, we use the same word. Sorry."

He blinked, and then flushed, though a smile pulled at his lips, "Oh ha ha," he said and gave her shoulder a light shove, "Stop picking on the big dumb shem."

"I never said you were dumb, Alistair," she replied, and the fondness in her voice set Zevran on edge as much as it made the human beam happily, "Now what's on your mind?"

"Well, you know how you ask us questions all the time, and niggle information out of us," at her nod, he continued, "I was wondering if you'd answer a question."

She smiled up at him, "Oh so it's my turn then," she held up a hand, "Wait, wait, let me try this..." she cleared her throat, and then in her best impression of his accent said, "Ask away."

The human chuckled, "That's pretty good," he said, "Alright, so I couldn't help but notice that you... um..." he fidgeted, "that underneath your... uh..." he pointed to his face, and spun a finger in a circle.

"Vallaslin," she said helpfully, an amused, humoring expression on her face... but Zevran noticed the mischievous glint was still in her eyes, which meant that Alistair was soon going to be the butt of something.

"Right, under that you have no... eyebrows," the warrior finally finished.

Zilfayirin blinked, a surprised look crossing her face, "I don't?" she exclaimed in shock, her hands flying to her face, "Ghilan'nain's tits! Why hasn't anyone told me?" she turned her 'stunned' gaze on the assassin, "Why didn't you say anything?" she asked, managing to keep her voice the same, though once her face was turned away from Alistair, she was having a hard time keeping a smile from her lips.

The Crow shrugged, perfectly willing to play along, "I had assumed that it was a fashion statement."

The other Warden looked stunned, and was wearing a slightly fearful expression... until his fellow Warden started laughing. He blinked, and then pouted as he realized he had been had. "You're evil, you know that," he told her, "you pick on me all the time."

She turned to look at him, giving him one of her dazzling smiles, "Alistaaaaaaair," she drawled his name out, "Don't you know I only pick on you because you're so very handsome when you pout?"

That had him blushing instantly, "Um..."

She chuckled, "I assume you were wondering why I have no eyebrows," at his nod she continued, "Well, you know we Dalish can never just give a straight answer, so I'm afraid you'll have to take it in story form," she chuckled again, "Think of it as a bedtime story."

Zevran's sharp eyes caught the movement of some of the others in camp. They nonchalantly drew closer to the fire in order to hear this. He supposed it was not a surprise, considering how little Zilfayirin had been willing to share about herself, and how she had already refused to answer Leliana's questions about her people. He looked over at his lover curiously, wondering what exactly she had in mind.

"How shall I start?" she asked no one in particular, as she idly rubbed at the winding green lines that traced over a cheekbone, "I believe shemlen stories start 'Once upon a time,' so I'll go with that, given the audience." She smiled faintly, her gaze turning to the fire, "Once upon a time, I was very young and very foolish, convinced that I was completely immortal, and that I knew everything about everything. During that time of my life, there was a boy, as there always is, who was just at that right age where he was the epitome of everything wonderful in the world, and him taking notice of me was like the gods themselves doing so."

"You," Alistair interrupted, "a love-struck girl? You're having us on again, aren't you?"

She shook her head, keeping her gaze on the fire, "No... and I never said I was love-struck, now did I? Perhaps the term should be... star-struck... or maybe enthralled... Yes, we'll go with enthralled, for he was a mage and one of Keeper Marethari's apprentices. His name was Derzen, and he was tall, dark, and handsome, and oh my I do sound love-struck don't I?" she laughed, "I remember he had the palest ice blue eyes, and he looked so exotic to me. He was a flat-ear who had been brought to the clan before I was born, but he looked nothing like us. His skin was so very dark, darker than Sten's even, which made his eyes seem to glow, and his hair was even paler than mine. I remember thinking that he must have been someone very special to look like that..." she chuckled again, "because as I mentioned, I was young and stupid," she smiled wryly, "In any event, he started talking to me, and I was ecstatic. How special was I to get his attention?" she shook her head, "Of course it wasn't me he was interested in. You see, Keeper Marethari would spend time with me, even though I wasn't one of her apprentices. I think I reminded her of my mother, with whom she had been very close, as I understand. Dezren thought this was a waste of the Keeper's time, since I had no magical talent, and it took away the time she could have been spending with those 'worthy' of her time, i.e. him. That, I believe, is why he first approached me, though I didn't know it at the time.

"He was very eloquent, or at least I thought he was, and when he spoke to me, it just seemed like everything he said was perfectly reasonable... I suppose, in a way, he's the person that taught me how to be persuasive. In any event, when he told me that it was unseemly for the Keeper to waste her time on me, not only did I believe him, I was upset with myself for hogging all her time when the clan needed her. So when she sought me out to speak with me next, I told her not to waste her time on someone unimportant like me. I pleaded with her to spend the extra time with the people that mattered, not with a girl who would grow up to be nothing more than another hunter in a clan full of hunters..."

"But you're so much more than that!" Alistair protested, interrupting again.

She finally pulled her gaze from the fire, to shoot an amused look at her fellow Warden, "If you keep interrupting me, lethallin, I'll never finish the story, and your curiosity will never be sated."

He smiled sheepishly, "Sorry."

She nodded in acknowledgment, and returned her gaze to the fire. "When I told her that, she knelt in front of me and bid me close my eyes. I did so, of course, and she took my face in her hands and kissed my forehead, whispering against it, 'The Keeper and the story-teller frame the clan's weave, but no one thread is more important than the whole, and no one thread is less important than any other.' She then ran her thumbs over my cheekbones and bid me remember that, always," she shrugged, "So I stopped insisting... and in hindsight I realize that the Keeper must have realized who had put such a thought in my head, and reprimanded Dezren, because he refused to talk to me for some time after that. I was crushed, of course, and did everything in my power to try to appease him, though there was little I could do, since I had no idea why he was angry with me. After what I thought was the worst month in my life, he started speaking to me again, and I was so very happy."

She leaned forward then, putting her elbows on her knees, and resting her chin in her hands, her eyes a million miles away, "A year. He spent a year telling me how difficult it was for him, how the other students were holding him back, how he was constantly faced with prejudice for his origins, and I ate up every word. I comforted him, and did anything he asked of me, just to prove that I was different from everyone else. It never occurred to me to question the fact that everyone else in the clan continued to behave as they always had, and that I had never witnessed this persecution. By this time, I was deep in my own training, but I always made time for him. Ta..." her mouth snapped shut, and she fell silent for a moment, "My partner was angry that I kept skipping out on training to run off with Derzen, and when he confronted me about it, I told him that he was as bad as everyone else. I called him awful names and said terrible things to him, and by the time I stormed off, I was sure that I had alienated him forever..."

She reached up and rubbed her brows, "Dezren found me after I'd stomped off, and told me that the tests to determine the Keeper's first were coming up. He said that he was going to be denied, because he was a flat ear, because he could not trace his ancestry back to Arlathan, and because they were frightened that he would taint the clan, and lead us to lose ourselves. He said that the only way to show them, to prove to them how wrong they were was to make sure he was elected Marethari's first. He could lead us, he said, he could surely set us on the path that would return us to our former glory. I agreed to help, of course, immediately and without reservation..." she sighed, "He told me that the only way for him to be elected, would be to kill the other apprentices. Naturally I balked at that..." her eyes slid closed, as she focused on the memory, "'But vhenan'ara,' he said, 'I need you. I can't do it, because that would give them a reason to keep me from power, but if you did it no one would suspect you, and no one could blame me. Can't you see how important this is for the Elvhen as a whole, not just the Dalish? Surely the lives of a few apprentices aren't more important than our people!' It was almost enough... but he kept talking, saying that he was more important than them anyway, and that he was the only one who could truly lead us. My resolve hardened, and I told him no. I told him that I could not help him, and that if he was truly meant to lead, then he would participate in the tests and prove himself..." She sighed softly, and opened her eyes, shaking her head, "He leaned down, and took my face in his hands, and lowered his head to mine. I closed my eyes trustingly, and he whispered into my ear, 'Then you are useless to me...' and set my face aflame. As I screamed, and tried to smother the fire, I heard him say, 'Where I'm from, we burn the trash.'"

"By the Maker," Alistair breathed, staring in shock at his fellow Warden.

She did not chide him for interrupting, and simply shrugged, "I couldn't get the fire to go out, so I covered my eyes with a hand to protect them, just on the off-chance I didn't die. I didn't know if he was going to attack again, but I decided that if I was going to die, then I wouldn't go alone. The only weapon I had on me was a dagger, and I threw it at the last place I had heard his voice. I know I hit him, because I heard him scream... but that's the last thing I remember. When I woke up, I was in the Keeper's aravel. She told me later what happened. Apparently Tam... len," she tripped on the name, but managed to force it out this time, "followed me when I ran off to try to talk sense into me, and overheard the conversation... or at least the part of the conversation when Dezren tried to talk me into killing the others. He ran back to camp immediately, telling everyone that would listen to him what was going on. Keeper Marethari led the hunters, and they arrived in time to save me. Apparently Dezren had forced a link with me, and was trying to use my life to heal himself..." she shook her head, "but the dagger was poisoned, and he couldn't purge it, so when they broke the link, it did not take very long for him to die." She turned her head to look over at Alistair, "The Keeper saved my life, and my face, but my eyebrows were sacrificed to learn a very important lesson."

"What lesson was that?" he asked wretchedly, clearly regretting ever bringing it up.

She laughed, "Why, not to play with fire, of course," she said, and stretched, her serious mood seeming to fall away with that gesture, "So there's the moral to my story, and it's getting late. I, for one, intend to turn in." She got easily to her feet, and paused for a moment, "Of course, I suppose an alternate moral could be 'Poison is a girl's best friend...'" she shot Zevran an inviting look before walking towards her tent, "Or possibly, 'A knife in the back is worth two in the scabbard.' Ooh, or 'A dagger a day keeps the mage away...'" she laughed as she ducked into her tent.

"Sometimes, she frightens me," the ex-templar said, watching Zilfayirin's tent warily.

"She is taking a page from your book, Alistair," Wynne said quietly, "She's using humor to hide the fact that she's upset."

"I didn't mean to upset her, you know," he said defensively.

"Of course not."

"I was just curious!"

"I understand."

"It was just an innocent question!"

As the senior Warden continued his uselessly defensive protests, and the mage continued her genuine attempts to calm his guilt, Zevran slipped off. Sometimes he wondered why he tried to be stealthy at all, considering how rare it was for them to pay attention to him while they were arguing.

He entered the tent, and blinked a few times in the gloom. Once his eyes adjusted, he looked over at the bedroll, where Zilfayirin sat. She had been staring at one of the tent's walls, but turned her gaze to him when he stepped toward her, and smiled, crooking her finger, "Come to me, emma vhenan," she said quietly, and he did as she bid.

Later in the night, when they had regained their breath, and exhaustion tugged at them, Zevran could not help but ask, "Am I not fire?"

"Mm?"

"You said that you learned not to play with fire..." he looked down at where her head rested on his chest, "and yet here you are."

She tilted her head back so she could look at him, and raised a brow, "That's because you're not fire," she replied with a little chuckle.

"Then what am I?"

"Poison," she replied, and shifted so she could lean up and brush her lips over his jaw.

"So... I am a girl's best friend?" he asked with laugh.

She shook her head, "No... you're insidious and subtle and deadly and..." she pressed her lips lightly to his and whispered against them, "ma emma lath..." she settled back down again, resting her head on his shoulder.

The assassin tried to parse through that, but finally shook his head, "I caught 'my' and 'you', but I'm afraid that is all."

She patted his chest, "It was something good, so just let me be mysterious," she muttered sleepily, "Shouldn't you be going?"

Zevran thought about that for a second, and then said, "I'd rather stay, if it's all the same to you."

He could hear the smile in her voice, "Just don't hog the covers."

Author's note: I used the elven from the Dragon Age wiki, so if any of it is off, it's their fault, lol.

Vallaslin- blood writing - Dalish facial tattoos

shem/shemlen- Humans (literally quick/quick children)

lethallin- clansmen/cousin

vhenan'ara- heart's desire

emma vhenan- my heart

ma emma lath- you are my love