"It's too hot to do that, Zev."

"I would argue that it is not nearly hot enough, cariño."

"Argue all you like, it's still too hot." Lyna shoved at him halfheartedly as he slid his hands up and around her, then laughed as his fingers danced over her sides. "Don't you dare!"

He smiled at the command and increased the pace as she squirmed beneath him, watching as her face flushed and her eyes squeezed shut. He leaned in closer, his nose barely escaping her chin as she flung her head to the side. "Perhaps if you say the right word, I might be persuaded to concede"

She tried to reply, but only managed a strangled breathe before another fit of laughter overtook her. He watched, amused, as she fought him another moment before finally relenting, and sliding his arms around her back. "Ah, and now you are sufficiently sweaty, yes?"

She slapped his chest even as she attempted to regain her breath. "Ass."

"I do have a remarkably sexy one."

He saw her smile at that, amused as always despite herself, and reached up a hand to push the hair from her face so he had better access to her. "Lyna, mi amor, you might not like this, but you are about to get a great deal hotter."

The chuckle she answered with was cut off by his lips.

He blinked awake, disoriented for a moment as the smell of leather oil and soil, the smell of her, seemed to linger around him. Remembering where he was, he rubbed a hand over his face and groaned into his palm.

Every night.

Every night he dreamed about her, her flesh, her hands, her mouth, and every morning he woke up aching, straining, and nothing to satisfy it but his own hands.

He should have taken Nico up on his offer to stay last night after they had exhausted themselves, but… no. He never let him stay, he never let any of them stay.

They took up too much room.

They got too comfortable.

They didn't fit right.

Annoyed with his own thoughts, he pushed himself out of the bed and over to the water stand. Reaching into the tepid water he splashed it over his face and scrubbed it through his hair even as he turned his thoughts to the day. He needed to look into supplies, and he needed to send another letter to the Crows about a meeting… or maybe he just needed to kill another group to get their attention.

When the knock sounded on his door he called out to enter without looking back.

"Well now, that is a pleasant sight to see first thing in the morning."

He glanced back at the man who had entered his room then down to his own still bare self before smiling slightly. "Well, as you know, Nico, I do enjoy making someone's day more pleasant."

He watched the older man slide his gaze over him again before turning to the dresser where he had tossed his armor. "Did you just come for the show, or was there something you needed?"

He heard his friend stretch his long form out on the bed, and imagined a bright smile on his dark brown face. "Well, I had some interesting news, but I think I'd rather watch the show first."

Always happy to oblige such things, Zevran flexed a bit more as he dressed. Finally, he turned to settle on the bed next to Nico, he hands reaching up to start his braids. "Now, what is this news that had you seeking me out so early?"

"It is nearly noon."

"And I had a late night."

They grinned at each other a moment before Nico shifted to face him more fully. "Esta ran into an elf at the market this morning."

Zevran raised a brow and fished out his leather tie. "I would think she would run into several, yes? We are hardly uncommon."

The human smiled again and sat up. "True, but she did not know this one, and you know as well as I do that Esta knows everyone, even before they get here."

"So tell me about this mysterious elf, and why I should care."

"Well, according to Esta, she is Dalish, and overly friendly, and armed, and was approached by a known Crow while she was eating. They talked and it ended with her scowling and the Crow leaving, though Esta wasn't close enough to hear the conversation, and apparently this has happened a few times over the last few days. That's why she 'ran into her' a bit later."

"And?"

"And her name is Lyna, and she is apparently staying for "this and that" reasons, but why would the Crows be interested is the question."

Zevran had frozen as Nico spoke, his whole body tensing at the name. A Dalish elf named Lyna who the Crows would be interested in… No, there was no way she would be here. She was in Fereldan. She was leading the Grey Wardens.

He was up off the bed before he had even realized he was moving, and began strapping his daggers in place. "Where is she staying? Did Esta know?"

Nico stood from the bed and stretched, his brows lowering as he watched Zevran buckle on a boot. "Bettino's. Are you wanting us to go check her out then?"

"No! Ah…Heh… No, my friend." He finished latching his belt and moved to the door. "There is no reason to scare her off with a whole group falling upon her. I will go and speak to her myself. I'll see you later."

He left without waiting for a reply.

It wasn't hard sneaking past the large inn owner, and it wasn't hard picking the lock to her room. It was surprisingly hard, however, being hit in the face with her scent after so long just imagining it.

The room was relatively bare, not surprising since he knew that she moved light, but he did find a satchel of spare clothes and a pile of coins on the dresser.

She had never been good at handling money, or keeping it safe. It made him smile to see that that hadn't changed.

Then he remembered that he shouldn't be smiling. Not about anything to do with her. Not until he knew why she was here.

So he settled onto the bed, propped himself against the headboard, and waited.

She didn't keep him waiting long.

She was good. She had always been good, and when she came in and barely even glanced in his direction as she went to set her bags on the table, it was believable and well done. But he knew her; he remembered little things about her that she probably never even noticed herself. Her hair was a bit longer, there was a new scar across the ruddy tan of her cheek, and her mask was barely holding.

He stared at her profile, his hands clinching slightly into his armor. He could easily picture leaning up to grab her arm and drag her onto the bed, and all the things he would do once he had her there.

It made him angry that she could still have such a hold on his thoughts, and he used that anger to reply coolly to her calm statement of his name.

"Warden."

It was a dig, and a petty one, not using her name, but he didn't care. Part of him still wanted her to hurt. When she paused, only for a single moment, he knew he had. She handled it well though. She moved from the table and over to the water basin in the corner, and refused to meet his gaze as she searched out a cup.

"Do you want anything to drink? I have only slightly cloudy water and I just picked up some brandy." She nodded to the bags on the table even as she poured a cup of the water for herself.

"No."

"Well I do. I remember you telling me that the summers could be hot here, but I didn't realize the extent of it. I don't know how any of you step outside without wilting. No wonder the Dalish who do stop here are hostile."

He listened as she rambled and swirled her cup, her gaze steady on the movement of the water, but obviously she wasn't going to tell him anything without prompting.

"What are you doing here, Lyna?"

The question made the movement of her hand stop and he thought he saw her lips tilt up before she returned to the table and settled into a chair, her eyes finally coming to his. "I came to see you."

The statement threw him off, but he had enough years of practice to turn his surprise into little more than a raised brow as she turned to rummage through a bag.

"Did you not get my letter?"

"Oh, yes." She pulled out a fruit and set it on the table before standing and walking towards him, a note appearing in her hand.

He took it, and after a cursory glance recognized his own writing.

"I never took you for a coward."

Her statement had him looking back to her with a scowl.

"But I am assuming you must be one to send me a letter like that instead of telling me such things to my face."

His scowl deepened and he couldn't help that his voice became clipped as he replied. "I tell you I have decided I am not coming back to you, and that makes me a coward? I thought you would at least appreciate that I let you know. I could have as easily never sent you anything. I have a life here, I am giving the Crows second thoughts. Power. Freedom… Women…Men… I had no urge to return to a place as dreary as Ferelden. I have better things to do than hang onto the coat tails as an afterthought of a too busy warden." He felt his face harden even as he forced a stop to his spew of words. The sudden calm of her expression as she watched him make the struggle made him want to throw something at the wall.

She moved back to the table and sat in the chair again, reaching for the fruit and taking a large bite. After a few seconds of chewing, which gave him time to relax back against the headboard, she spoke. "I don't believe I said anything about us starting back with a relationship. Obviously you have no desire for it and I have no more urge to throw myself at someone than you do. I simply said I came to see you, I thought you might need some help with the Crows. I like to think we are still friends, of a sort, and I found myself with some free time. You probably remember that I hate being idle."

He did remember, just as he remembered the sounds she made when she woke of a morning, her arms stretching over her head and her eyes blinking sleepily at him. He shoved such thoughts away and gave a disbelieving laugh. "Free time? Since when does the Commander of the Grey Wardens in Ferelden have free time?"

"Never if I remember correctly, but I didn't tell him that before I left. I didn't want him changing his mind."

"He?"

She nodded and bite into the fruit again then studied it a moment. "Yes, his name is Leon… very Orlesian."

"You… you stepped down?"

"Yes."

He blinked at the simple answer, his mind scrambling to understand this new information when it seemed so very unlike something she would do.

He settled for, "Why?" because everything else seemed too complicated.

He saw a split second smile cross her face, but it was gone before he could read what it meant. "Because I wanted to. I didn't quit the order or anything, but I don't want to be the person they turn to first at every crisis."

She had stepped down… and had come to Antiva, on her own, to look for him. He didn't… he didn't want to trust it, so he went for an old wound instead.

"Won't Alistair miss you? Are you sure you wouldn't rather stay in Ferelden with him?"

"I assume he will miss me as much as I will miss him. No, that's not true of course, he will miss me more, but believe it or not my best friend wants me to do what makes me happy."

What makes her happy? Being here made her happy? He wanted to ask her, almost as much as he wanted to send her a sneer and walk out. He had settled here, he was making something with his life, her being here complicated things. It would probably make him feel things, things he had set aside, and how was he supposed to work with that distraction?

But how could he possibly send her away?

He hadn't even realized he had stood from the bed and began pacing until he felt her hand on his arm and saw that he was by to the table and half turned away from her on a return trip to the bed.

"I know you are probably going to say something along the lines of 'what could make you shirk your duty, since it has always been so important to you', but that is the point. It has been too important. I didn't think, didn't let myself think about it, it seemed only fair that I follow my duty the way I told so many others they must, but I am tired, Zevran. So very tired, and I will not give the Wardens every moment of the rest of my life."

He stared at her as she spoke then took a deliberate step back so that her hand slid away from him. He needed to think, but he couldn't help his next question. "Why not?"

She gave a humorless laugh and looked away from him, bitterness evident even as she set the fruit on the table and stood. "Because I have lost enough. Tamlen, my clan, even my best friend to the throne. The Wardens would have everything left of me. I have given enough. I will not spend the rest of the years I have left being crushed under a mantle of authority that I do not want. It is time for me to take control of my own life."

She shook her head and moved to the door and he studied the way her fingers gripped just a little too tightly into the wood even as she kept her face in its careful mask as she looked back to him. "I have told you why I am here. If you have any need of me please let me know, but… but for now it is probably best if you go."

He didn't know how to reply to what she had just told him, didn't know what he was supposed to do with it. It would be a strategically sound move to take her up on her offer of help, she was an excellent fighter after all and had a good mind for strategy, but he wasn't sure if it would be worth the trouble it would inevitably cause.

He scrubbed a hand over his face and started to the door, pausing as he reached her so he could look down at her.

She had her head tilted up to him, her expression carefully blank, and all he could think for a moment was that she looked exactly like he remembered. He had spent countless hours over the time they were together memorizing her. If he was honest, he spent countless hours even after they had parted remembering her, but he wasn't particularly honest and he had never been more thankful for that.

Andraste's ass he had missed her.

"What do you want from me?"

He hadn't meant to ask her that, had meant to leave, but his feet apparently weren't in the mood to obey. So he had asked, and then got to watch her features soften, the cracks in her mask widening a moment before she answered him.

"Only what you are willing to give."

He looked away with a huff of breath. He remembered saying the same thing to her on their first night together when she had asked him what he expected from them being together.

For a brief moment he thought of the time right after the Archdemon had been slain and everything had seemed ridiculously simple. If she had said that to him then he would have told her 'everything'.

But that was over a year ago, and he wasn't blinded by her or his supposed feelings anymore.

"And what would you do, Lyna, if I told you I wasn't willing to give anything? That I didn't want you here, didn't want your help?"

'Didn't want you' sat at the tip of his tongue, but that was a lie even he could not pull off. He was very sure he would want her until the day he died.

"I would leave, there is no point in staying where I am not wanted, but sending me away would be a mistake. I make a very good ally, and I'm willing to follow you anywhere."

He couldn't help the laugh that came out at her words, but he did manage to contain it into a single burst. "Anywhere? Ah, my dear Warden, you should be more careful with your words. There are placed even you would not go, yes?"

She gave a single shake of her head and looked away from him, her fingers flexing on the door. "I would rush head long at Fen'Harel himself if it meant I could stay at your side."

Her eyes widened at the words, or perhaps the fact that she had actually said them, and he laughed again.

This was a terrible idea, he was going to regret it, but there was no way he could simply ask her to leave, not when he had finally gotten another chance to see her.

He would worry about the consequences later.

"Who am I to turn away someone willing to take on the Dread Wolf? I'll be back tomorrow morning."

She nodded as he stepped out into the hall then shut the door behind him.