A/N: CMDA-Santa-Fic for LadyCailan. Zev/F!Cousland. It is my first time writing a romance with Zevran (except for the bits with Leliana in my main story), so I really don't know how well I have caught his voice, or the doubts and fears that falling in love contains for him. Also unbeta-d. Hope you all enjoy nonetheless.
Arrival
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"And so here is the mighty Grey Warden at long last. The Crows send their greetings, once again."
He knew this voice, would recognize it anywhere. Startled, Zevran looked up and looked into an all too amused face he'd have never expected to see again.
Taliesen.
He should have known that the only person of the Crows capable of tracking him down would be his former...friend. But despite the knowledge, he still walked blindly into Taliesen's laid out trap. Zevran felt Ella shifting, her posture changed from relaxed to a wary stance in a mere moment. The hand wandered to her bow, ready to shoot any second. Peanut, her Mabari, oddly captured with his threatening growl how everyone felt within their group, tensed and ready to fight, if needed. Especially if he was going to threaten their leader.
Old friend or not, he was not allowed to cross this line. Zevran walked forward, eyes flinging up to the human grinning down at them from a staircase. His demeanor reminded him of himself once, how he was before he met the Wardens. Before Ella spared him. Cocky, full of himself and so sure to leave the battlefield as a winner.
Maybe Zevran had won, after all. Just not in a way he had imagined. He pushed the thought away, felt an unusual anxiety as he rose his voice to the Crow. " So they sent you, Taliesen? Or did you volunteer for the job?" Zevran tried to appear casual, almost bored of the fact of meeting the Crows again, but the smug smirk in his former friend's face told him that he didn't succeed. The elf was very well aware that Taliesin didn't come alone, a Crow never would. His eyes roamed the wide area of Denerim's back alley and he instantly knew why Taliesen had chosen this place for his attack. The high stone walls, convoluted passageways and several crates offered a perfect hiding place for trained assassins like they were. It was impossible to estimate their number, something Taliesen made sure deliberately, he was certain.
Taliesen's grin widened. "I volunteered, of course. When I heard that the great Zevran had gone rogue, I simply had to see it for myself. But it's not too late. You can return with me, Zevran. Come back and we'll make up a story. Anyone can make a mistake."
For a brief moment of a second, Zevran felt at a loss at words, didn't believe his hearing. Was Taliesen really offering to return to the Crows as if nothing happened? To forget his desertion? Even if he would opt to consider that offer, it would mean fighting against Ella and the others, to kill her. Which was a thought he couldn't bear in the slightest, everything within him struggled against the very idea of it. He could never hurt her, not the woman who spared his life, but most of all gave him a...purpose.
Before Zevran could even answer, however, Ella stepped in front of her elven lover and glowered up at Taliesen, anger radiating from every pore of her being. "Fuck this. I'm not interested why you're here. You don't get him. Easy as."
"Oho, she is a fiery one, isn't she?" Taliesen laughed, the tone a cruel cackling as he pointed at her well-endowed chest. "And has apparent, visible charms. I understand now why you fight for her cause. To be honest, she reminds me of someone I once knew. I wonder if you see it, too?"
Zevran knew what he was implying, whom he meant and his eyes narrowed, ever so slightly. That was a low blow, even for Taliesen. "I'm sorry, my old friend. But the answer is no. I'm not coming back... and you should have stayed in Antiva."
"Aww, you have gone soft." Taliesen shook his head, disapproving, his accented voice laced with disappointment. Whether it was genuine or an act, even Zevran couldn't say. He had always been a person hard to read. An attribute, the elf once valued highly in him, like so much else. But he recognized that such things were in the past. Where he now stood was his present and this was all that counted. Zevran heard the singing of blades drawn, sneaking steps on hard, pebbled ground and the laugh of the man he had to kill in a matter of moments. A man he had once called friend and...more.
Taliesen shrugged, appearing confident of his victory, like always. "It is a pity, but I will have to kill you all then."
Zevran had just time to unsheathe his daggers and step beside Ella before the chaos ensued. It became the difficult battle he had expected, able Crow assassins were swarming the area in the blink of an eye, their weapons swift and deadly. Ella was a very skilled, fast archer, but as such very vulnerable to other attacks, because she had to stay still for a fraction to aim. He circled around her, shielding her from any attack trying to break through, but couldn't hinder that one of them buried his blade into her back in a heedless moment. Ella's scream of pain were reverberating through the filthy back alley and went right through Zevran, shaking his very core. Yet it also fueled his wrath, against himself for endangering her needlessly with his matters and Taliesen for daring to even attack her. His daggers flashed in flurried flash of anger and blood through everyone he could reach and didn't stop until Taliesen's throat was slit.
No...
His blades clattering on the ground, he was running toward Ella's bloodied, unconscious form. Morrigan was already kneeling beside her, working what little healing magic she had learned from Wynne. Zevran knew it wouldn't be enough to save her, but hopefully enough to sustain her until they could reach the healer in the Tavern.
"Sodding Crows." Oghren scoffed and squinted his dark eyes. "Let's get her quickly to the old sparklefinger." The dwarf sheathed his axe and was about to carefully heave Ella's body up, but Zevran stopped his intent.
"I...will carry her." The elf tucked her into his arms and started to stride toward the exit as fast he could with the additional weight in his arms. It is my fault. "Let's hurry."
.
.
.
This shouldn't have happened. At all.
Zevran paced up and down in front of the closed wooden door of Ella Cousland's room, his usual calmness forgotten. Wynne was in there with Ella, cleaning and healing her sword wound at the best at her ability. But it was all taking so long, too long. He couldn't lose her. Not like this, not ever.
Zevran blinked at the trail of his thoughts, but it didn't stop his pacing. He heard the whining and scratching at the door of Peanut, felt the glowering gaze of her fellow Warden on himself. Alistair sat unmoving in a corner, shooting dagger with his eyes at him, yet remained uncharacteristically still. It was a silent wrath that emanated from the Warden and unnerved him, because Alistair was right. Without him, Ella wouldn't now lie there wounded in this room, fighting for her very life.
Zevran stopped his steps and heaved his head to look at the human. "Well, my dear friend, if you have to say something, say it. Your glaring might be attractive for the women...and men around here, I confess, but I prefer clear words to get it over with. "
While there was never anything between the two Wardens but camaraderie and mutual understanding for their role as a Warden, Alistair was nevertheless very protective toward Ella. She was his sister – how he called her. Zevran never got along very well with him, but at least he could respect Alistair for this.
"Clear words?" Alistair scoffed, voice laced with disdain." Right...no problem, assassin. Ella is wounded because of you, without you it would never have happened!"
There were the words, Zevran had already thought for himself since the blade was hitting her back. He blamed himself for it, yet he would never give in in to her fellow Warden, nor anyone. Zevran approached closer to the human and attempted to appear casual. "Are you afraid it could influence the Landsmeet? Ah, don't worry my friend, everything will be good. She is strong."
Alistair's fist came up before he could react in any way, hitting him hard and square across the face, sending him backwards. The pain blooming within his jaw was numbing, good. The coppery taste of his own blood was distracting and a fitting, physical punishment. He deserved it, he was sure.
"I don't give a fuck about the Landsmeet!" Alistair's voice was quavering with anger and despair. "This is my fellow Warden, you are talking about. My friend. So if you are caring about her like you pretend to do than stop acting like a Maker-damned ass."
To be lectured by a virgin grown up in a Chantry was something else, but possibly he was right this time. Zevran laughed at the irony of it and rubbed his bruised cheek. He scrambled up from the ground, just in time to see the door opening. Wynne stepped out of it, pale-faced and exhausted. She knitted her brows at the two men and sighed. "She had more luck than judgment, no vital organs were harmed. She still needs rest, but will be okay."
Ignoring the elder mage and without looking back, Zevran ran into Ella's room in the need to see her for himself.
.
.
.
The room bore the heavy scent of herbs and blood.
It was dark in here, only a single candle was lit which enveloped the place into a faint golden shine. Ella lay on the bed in the middle, her midriff bandaged and bare, except for the breast-band that covered her quite ample bosom. She had once explained to him that their size was the reason she decided to learn archery, that it would bother her too much when working with blades. Zevran had explained her then very suggestively that he didn't mind her bosom at all. This was the first time – just a few days after she spared him– that he had elicited a smile from her. It was most surprising to him how much he had liked the sound of it.
He still did.
Faintly smiling at the memory, the elf silently approached closer to her bed. Oblivious to the world, Ella slept, her chest rising and falling in timed harmony. Zevran felt drawn by the rhythm of it, by the certainty that she would live.
Only a few months ago, he had thrown himself at the feet of the Wardens in the intention to find his death there. But one of them had other plans with him and hence overthrow his clever plan of a stupid ambush to die.
Ella had spared his life.
Zevran sat down beside her form on the ground and shook his head, amused. Fate was a funny, twisted thing. Instead of killing him, Ella had just looked at the assassin and tilted her head – as if measuring his worth – and decided to take him into her group of misfits.
"You can fight, I reckon?"
"Ah, not only fight, my deathly goddess. I can ensure you I have many other qualities, as well."
"Oh? Well, how can I possibly say no to that? Welcome in my team."
It had been an most unexpected...development of events, but then again Ella was everything but ordinary. Born within the second powerful house of nobles in Ferelden, she was unlike every noble lady he had met and...killed before. Bold, fiery and flirtatious, she understood the concept of taking up pleasures where one met them to a perfection. She had a foul mouth, a clever mind combined with a stunning, yet natural beauty. Ella was a woman not fussing over her looks, unlike other noble women. Her raven hair was cropped to the length of her chin and sticking out in every direction. Combined with the deep brown eyes and the freckles around her nose, it gave her an innocent, cute look that was nothing but facade. Still, Ella was not shy to use this appearance to her advantage to get what she wanted.
How Zevran quickly found out, she wanted him.
It was not that he didn't enjoy the game of suggestion, body language and occasional touches she played. It was quite the opposite, especially when it was so well performed like she did it, yet he found it borderline frustrating at times. Every time he thought he was about to win their extended, flirtatious game, she drew back with a smirk. Turning around with swaying hips, she left him alone, hot and bothered. It took several, very frustrating weeks of mild touching and not so chaste kissing to bed her. Actually after playing that game for so long, he wasn't sure anymore who seduced here whom. In hindsight, Zevran was almost sure that she had planned it to happen since the day she spared him.
He looked at her peaceful, sleeping expression and chuckled. Saucy minx.
At first it was only a welcome distraction to the horrors of the Blight, all the death. She was an all pleasurable adventure worth being relived again and again. Night after night. But then Zevran discovered that there was more to her than just curves, swaying hips and ample bosom. At one night, after their lovemaking, Ella started to talk about her life before the Wardens, who she was before the blood and death. About her feelings of loss and urge to revenge her family's death, to kill Howe for all he had done. Of her doubts of making Alistair king, well knowing what a snake-pit the court was.
Before Zevran knew it he was enjoying the conversation and her simple presence as much as their nightly, passionate encounters. And now Ella had even freed him from the Crows. But most importantly she would live that he could thank her. For that and even... more.
Resting his head on the mattress beside her, Zevran closed his eyes and quickly fell asleep.
.
.
.
He felt her stirring beside him, her voice rough after a day of disuse.
"Zev?"
He was awake in an instant, opening his eyes to look into her wondering gaze. "Si, carina." He chuckled, brushed a finger over her cheek. "Who else did you expect?"
For once there was no witty retort from her. "N-no one, I'm just glad that you are here. The first thing I see after waking up."
"Ah, but I'm usually the first person you see, my dear. To be wrapped naked in your arms has this kind of effect." He remembered the night before they ran into Taliesen. He had reluctantly told her about his last mission, about how everything went...wrong. About Rinna and why he came to Ferelden. Zevran had never talked to someone about that – never imagined to – and felt so very vulnerable in that moment. Yet he trusted her enough to tell her about it. A fact that simultaneously scared and freed him. The lovemaking with her after the confession of that was desperate, nearly as if he needed to ensure that she was still there.
"True." Ella laughed and attempted to raise from her lying position. With a hiss she lay back, the pain obviously too much.
"No, don't sit up. Your wound could reopen. I...don't want that. " He sighed, taking her hand into his. "I...it is my fault. I wasn't fast enough to hinder the blade that – " He stopped to draw a breath in, a pained expression flickered over his face. "Taliesen...you shouldn't have been drawn into my business."
Ella turned her head to him and tsked." Your business, love? Your business became my business on the day I spared you. I had expected to run into the Crows, in fact. I rather found it disappointing that it took them so long to show up. Fuck... and then they really believed you would have returned to them?" The humor faded from her expression, eyes lasting on him grew soft. "I know about Taliesen, you told me the night before. You...both were friends, right? I'm sorry it came to this."
Zevran really didn't want to thread this path again and yet he had no other choice. It was only fair if he would be honest with her, she deserved it. "I...yes. He was my friend once and...more. I had no argument with Taliesen specifically, despite my feelings about the Crows in general. His only fault lay in his priorities, but there is no need to relive the past, no?" He took her hand and placed a kiss on the backside. "It occurred to me that I haven't thanked you yet, for freeing me from the Crows. They will assume that I am dead along with Taliesen. So long as I do not make my presence known to them, they will not seek me out."
Her laugh was bitter. "As you can recall, I didn't really do much."
"Don't...don't say that, my dear. You have done so much... – " Zevran stopped with a sigh, struggling against the feelings within. He couldn't allow himself to grow attached to her, not more than he already was. "Maybe I should leave. Somewhere far away, where the Crows can't find me."
Her hand clawed into his and despite her intention to stay down, she rose with a wince. "W-what?"
Her shocked expression shook him, but he tried to remain casual, so he shrugged. "It just seems I have options now, whereas once I had none."
"I-if this is what you want, I will not keep you from leaving." Ella's voice was tiny, almost inaudible. "I simply want you to do what is the best for you."
"I'm not sure how to respond to this." Zevran was baffled and moved by her response, had expected anything but this. "Nobody has ever... I mean, normally, these things are decided by others." He swallowed, counted inwardly to three before answering. "Err... then I suppose I shall... stay? Is that... good?"
Ella relaxed in an instant and smiled at him. "Very good. It would be hard to kiss you when you are away."
Zevran followed her hint and lowered his head. The kiss that ensued was...different than the others before. It always had a wild, passionate note, as if they couldn't get enough of each other. But this one here, was nearly chaste and achingly sweet. It shook Zevran to the very core. A warm feeling bloomed inside of him and settled with a fiery burn within the base of his stomach. He drew away, breathless like after a hungry kiss and felt his prior suspicions seconded.
He was falling in love with her, helplessly so. And it scared him deeply.
.
.
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The next two weeks of preparation for the Landsmeet made it easy for Zevran to avoid Ella.
She was often so busy with gathering voices from the arriving nobles to support Alistair that she didn't noticed his shift in mood, was often too tired in the evening. He hadn't intended to stay away from her, yet he noticed that this was what he needed. Zevran felt too confused with the conflicting emotions within. To want her, but not in a way like it was before. It was suddenly not enough anymore, he wanted more than just casual games and encounter. What it exactly it was he sought, he couldn't even say for sure, was unable to put it in words.
It had started the same way with Rinna, a woman so bold and fiery and beautiful. Zevran hadn't even noticed that he was falling for his fellow Crow until it was too late. Like it was now with Ella. But was it really love and not just a silly infatuation with the idea itself to have a purpose? Was he even allowed to love after all that happened with Rinna? Zevran had no answers to these questions, was unwilling to face them, so he stayed away from Ella.
It was...easier this way.
.
~V~
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Zevran should have known that Ella was intelligent enough to notice his withdrawal after all. Especially after refusing to sleep with her, whereas he always had been overeager before to wrap her into his arms and make love to her. Now he simply couldn't bed her, not when it was threaded with so many, new confusing emotions now. Ella tried to appear nonchalant at his refusal and turned around to sleep, but Zevran was aware that she knew that something was amiss.
He was right.
It was the night before the Landsmeet where she stormed into his room, anger all visible in her expression. "Why are you avoiding me?" The tapping of her foot indicated clearly that she didn't have the patience to wait any longer on answers. "And don't tell me you are not avoiding me. I'm not stupid, Zev!"
"Very well. It must have come to this, I suppose." Zevran sighed long and deep, turned away from her to pace through the room." I...don't know how to put it in words. Ever since the day you got wounded, I find myself confused." He shook himself and harrumphed, turning around to her again. "Sorry, you are right, I am acting like a child. Please, Ella, let me explain. An assassin... must learn to forget about sentiment. It is dangerous. You take your pleasures where you can, when life is good. To expect anything more would be reckless. I thought it was the same between us. Something to enjoy, a pleasant diversion and little more. And yet... –" He faltered with a sigh, couldn't bring himself to say it. The word was too heavy, too meaningful to say it out loud. Standing in front of her now, however, made him aware that what he felt was real and not just an infatuation with an idea. He couldn't gainsay the feeling of chaos she caused him inside with her mere presence, after all.
Ella's mouth stood agape, taken aback by these unexpected words. "You are saying that you...love me?" She only whispered the particular word, as if she couldn't believe it herself.
His expression softened with another sigh, amber eyes smoldering into her. "I don't know. How does one know such a thing? I grew up amongst those who sold the illusion of love, and then I was trained to make my heart cold in favor of the kill. Everything I have been taught says what I feel is wrong."
Ella smiled, shifting from one foot to the other, apparently feeling as awkward as he felt. "I'm not exactly an expert in love either, Zev."
"How comforting." His chuckle was short-lived, fading quickly again for seriousness. "Yet, I cannot help but to think of you, even when I'm keeping my distance. It makes it worse, in fact. So I want to know...is there any chance that there is...a future? For us, I mean? I know it sounds ridiculous and it – "
"It is not!" Ella interrupted him brusquely, her gaze turning into an adamant glare. "It is not stupid, Zev. I... – " Her words seem to fail her, mouth popping closed and open without any sound coming out. With a frustrated groan, she stepped in front of him, grabbed his collar and caught him in a searing kiss. After what seemed an achingly sweet eternity, she drew away, snapping for air like he was. "I want you, Zev. And I...love you. I always have. Only you. Is that so hard to grasp?"
"No, I think you made yourself perfectly clear, amora." The tension had left his being with her kiss and commitment. There was now a new won easiness that drowned every complication out. And it felt good. He could get used to it. "I'm sorry for my behavior. I will be better now. Much better."
And he was.