He'd merely thought the Warden was unusually persuasive, when he so-easily convinced his companions that taking in a man who'd just tried (albeit unsuccessfully) to kill him was a fine idea. By the time he realized just how badly mistaken he had been, it was too late.
Zevran smiled as the Warden approached him, where he sat under a tree at the edge of the clearing, smoothing a nick out of one of his daggers that had been damaged in the battle earlier that day. A pity he needed to kill this man; he was one of the more attractive humans Zevran had encountered in a long time, with curling black hair, icy blue eyes, and a powerful presence. At least his supposed surrender to the man had saved his life, and once he'd killed the too-trusting mage and his rather large companion, he could put this embarrassing incident behind him and return to Antiva and the arms of his beloved Taliesin.
The mage came to a stop just a little too uncomfortably close to Zevran, looming over him intimidatingly. "So... you mentioned the possibility of warming my bed, as I recall," the Warden purred in a deep, husky voice.
"Oh? You are interested, then?" he asked, smiling toothily up at the man. He certainly wouldn't mind bedding the man before slaying him; the technique had served him well in the past, after all.
The mage grinned. "Very," he growled, and reached down to knot his fingers in the harness across the chest of Zevran's armour, tugging him to his feet with surprising strength. He leaned in, giving the elf a demanding kiss. Zevran opened his mouth, letting the man plunder it, moaning in not-all-that-feigned passion as the mage attempted to dominate him.
"So easy..." he thought, then yelped in surprise and flinched as the mage's teeth bit savagely into his lower lip, drawing blood.
"Careful! I like your enthusiasm but you are perhaps a bit too rough..." he said, dabbing at his lip with the back of his hand, then stopped and froze as he met the mage's eyes.
Icy blue eyes that filled his world, gazing into his own, a tongue licking delicately at lips stained ruby with his own blood. "Mine," the mage snarled.
"Yes," he whispered, mind filling with a confusing fog. The Warden, the mage, he was his... "Master."
A hungry grin. The mage made a pleased little sound, reaching out to touch lightly the tattoos on the side of Zevran's face, thumb stroking over the line of blood dribbling from his split lip, smearing it into his skin. "So beautiful," the mage husked. "I knew I had to have you the moment I saw you, to add you to my collection."
He leaned forward, kissed Zevran again, deeply this time, a slow plundering of his mouth. "You will enjoy everything I do to you, won't you, my pet?" he whispered.
"Yes..." Zevran whispered, feeling himself swell to aching fullness at his master's touch.
"And enjoy playing with my other pets, too, won't you?" the mage husked, walking slowly around back of Zevran, closing his arms around him, resting his chin on the assassin's shoulder.
"Yes..."
"Look at them... aren't they beautiful? I took the witch first, after her mother discarded her, gave her to me. She knew what I was, but she didn't care, as long as she gets what she wants in the end. So I promised it to her, and I got the lovely daughter to keep for now."
"I took the bard next. Stupid chantry-ridden bitch, what has the chantry ever done for me but imprison me and try to break me... I'm afraid I broke her instead. But what's left of her is sweet, and she sings so prettily, like a songbird in a cage..."
He leaned his face alongside Zevran's cheek, forcing his head to turn to the side.
"The Sten," the mage said, darkly. "Do you know what qunari do to mages? I've done it to him. He can only speak when I allow, act as I allow. And he knows it. He is more than half-mad now, and wishes to kill me, but I have his body chained and locked up tight, as collared and helpless as any saarebas."
"And Wynne, look at Wynne," the mage said purred, putting his hand on the back of Zevran's head, and turning it to look the other way. "She suspected me, in the tower, I always knew she did. I had to sacrifice my favourite pet to put them off my trail; poor Jowan. Always taking the blame for my little games. But she was foolish, and stupidly trusting, and let in one of my friends, thinking it a friend of hers. She's empty now, eaten out from the inside, a mask my friend wears in this realm. Maybe I'll let you see him in your dreams some night... he so loves getting a new plaything."
"And Alistair... my beloved Alistair. I like him best of all," the mage whispered, the sounds barely voiced, breath tickling along the shell of Zevran's ear. "Look at him. So innocent, so untouched, so... virginal. I keep him that way, you know, though it means extra work. I heal him, and he forgets what I've done to him. Each time I take him is the first time. His cries are so beautiful... maybe I'll let you hear him, some night, if you've been especially good. Now come, show me what toys you have hidden away in your pack, and tell me how to use them on you. Because you are...?"
"I am your man, without reservation," Zevran whispered hoarsely, as some inner part of him keened in despair. And knew that this time it was a vow he could never break.