Fill for a kinkmeme prompt: "I want to see Zevran come to Amaranthine to visit his old pal the Warden and wind up in the sack with Anders. I envision a lulzy scenario with drinking/boasting/daring or hey - all three!" A later adendum to the prompt asked for a jealous Nate joining in on the fun, which I had no problem adding!

"Zev!" Neria rushed down the stairs to embrace her friend in a warm hug. "What are you doing here? I thought you were in Antiva!"

Zevran grinned and quickly returned the embrace. "I was, but as I have successfully concluded my business there, I thought I would pay a visit to my favorite Grey Warden."

Neria gave the assassin an appraising look. "I see. And was your 'business' concluded successfully?"

"Most definitely. I won't go into details, but I can say with certainty that the Crows are no longer interested in me." Zevran looked about the Main Hall of Vigil's Keep. "It seems as if you have done quite well for yourself. No more sleeping on the cold hard ground?"

Neria laughed. "Unfortunately, there's still been plenty of that. But at least things are finally starting to calm down. Here, come and meet everyone and then I'll get one of the servants to prepare a room for you."

She steered him over to the small cluster of people standing nearby who were openly watching the reunion between the two elves.

"These are my Wardens." Neria said with obvious pride. "Everyone, this is Zevran Arainai, an old friend of mine."

"Elf!" Oghren staggered forward to grasp Zevran's hand.

"Oghren! You have become a Grey Warden? I did not realize their standards were so low." He winked at Neria.

"Oh har, har." Oghren grumbled. "The elf still thinks he's a comedian."

Neria pulled Zevran away before he and Oghren could get too far into their usual verbal sparring. "This is Sigrun, a member of the Legion of the Dead." Zevran gave the female dwarf a low bow, impressed that his friend had managed to recruit one of the Dead Caste.

"I was not aware that the Legion of the Dead ventured above ground."

Sigrun looked at her Commander admiringly. "We don't usually, but the Commander's good at persuasion."

Zevran laughed. "Indeed she is."

"Velanna is our healer." Neria continued. He moved to kiss the blonde elf's hand, but her glare was enough to stop him. Judging by the markings on her face she was one of the Dalish, and he knew from experience they could be prickly.

"This is Anders, another mage." Zevran looked appraisingly at the man and gave him a sly wink. Anders' grin was enough to make him think that perhaps his stay here might not be as uneventful as he feared.

Moving over to the last Warden, Neria took a deep breath. "And this is Nathaniel Howe." Zevran's hand—outstretched to shake the other's hand—curled into a fist.

Seeing the tightening of the elf's jaw, Nathaniel gave him a wry smile. "I see you knew my father."

Neria hastened between the two. "Nathaniel is Rendon's son, but they're nothing alike, believe me." Zevran studied her face and then nodded. He trusted her judgment, though he made a mental note to keep an eye on the dark-haired man.

Neria noticed the look of weariness on Zevran's face. "You must be tired from your journey." She gestured to a nearby servant. "Mira will show you to one of the guest rooms. You can freshen up, and then we can meet up tonight for supper—we have a lot of catching up to do." She grinned.

"That would be divine." Zevran smiled. "I look forward to seeing you later." He gathered up his pack and followed the servant up the stairs. Neria wandered back to her office, a happy smile on her face.

Anders gave a low whistle. "So that's the famous Zevran Arainai is it? Quite the looker."

Nathaniel looked over at him. "You can't be serious Mage. He's an Antivan Crow—an assassin."

"Who cares what he is? I doubt he's going to kill us, the Commander would get right pissed at him if he did that." Anders smirked. "Besides, from all the stories the Commander's told us he's not a bad fellow."

Nathaniel scowled. "You obviously weren't listening very closely if that's what you learned from the Commander's stories. What I recall her telling us is that he spends a great deal of time chasing skirts, amongst other things."

Anders chuckled. "Well, I certainly wouldn't mind him chasing me around."

The brunet crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. "You're shameless. You're a Grey Warden, you should behave yourself."

"Oh come on, just because we're Grey Wardens doesn't mean we can't have a little fun. Besides, it's my birthday—and he would make an excellent present." Anders allowed himself a few moments to daydream about all the things he'd like to do with Zevran.

Nate glared at the mage. "It is not your birthday. Your birthday's in Wintermarch."

Anders was pleased that Nate actually remembered when his birthday was. "Why Nathaniel Howe," he said teasingly, "if I didn't know any better I'd think you were actually jealous!"

Nathaniel stood up straight, his cheeks turning slightly pink. "Jealous? And what exactly would I be jealous of?"

Anders decided to cut this conversation short. He had been very gently trying to seduce the brooding rogue for some time now and he didn't want to undo all his work. He valued the other man's friendship far too much to ruin it by pushing him too fast.

He gave a laugh to relieve the tension. "Calm down, I was just joking." He let out a small sigh of relief when he saw the tension leave the other man's shoulders.

He was fairly certain Nate was attracted to him as well, and by the appraising look he had given the assassin he didn't find Zevran undesirable either. Zevran's arrival might be the perfect opportunity to get Nathaniel into bed, as well as have some fun with the elf. He suppressed a grin. The idea of having two rogues definitely had its appeal; there was no way he was going to pass up this chance. He started to formulate a plan.

Neria arrived at Zevran's room with a light supper not long after he had finished his bath. She set the basket of food down on a nearby table and enveloped him in another hug. "I'm glad to see you, truly."

Zevran gave her a warm smile as he sat down to eat. "And I am glad to see you as well, my dear Warden. Things have not been nearly as exciting since we parted company."

Neria sat down across from him. "Hm, well if you've been dealing with the Crows all this time I daresay your life has been exciting enough." She picked up a roll and started buttering it. "So, are you going to tell me what happened in Antiva?"

"I took care of them." Zevran uncorked the bottle of wine Neria had brought and filled both of their goblets. "The details are not so important, really. But I will say that there are far fewer Crow Masters than there once were." He smirked and took a drink of the wine.

Several minutes of silence followed as the two set into their meal. Finally, Neria voiced the question he figured she had been itching to ask since he arrived. "And what of you? Are you a Crow once again?"

Zevran smiled. "No, I am not. They did offer me a place as Guildmaster-" Neria gave a squeak of surprise. "—But I declined. It would not matter whether I was in charge or not, it would still be a cage."

"So you thought you'd come bother me?" She gave him a teasing grin. "Or couldn't you think of anywhere better to go."

Zevran mock-scowled at her. "You wound me, my dear. Is it not enough that I said I was glad to see you? Must I get down on bended knee and tell you how much I have missed your teasing?"

Neria laughed. "No, no! I wouldn't dream of making you humble yourself before me." Her laughter trailed off. "I've missed you too Zev, even if you are annoying sometimes."

He winked at her. "I aim to please. Speaking of pleasure, how is Alistair? Or rather, King Alistair. Are you two still…"

"Yes, though we haven't seen each other for awhile now. Duty and all that." Neria sighed. "How about you? Is there a 'special someone' in your life?"

Zevran smirked. "Not yet, but I have only just arrived." He laughed at her raised eyebrow. "Now, now, it is not my fault that you have a tendency to recruit attractive people."

Neria shook her head. "Well, a word of advice from someone who doesn't want to see you burned to a crisp—stay away from Velanna. I doubt she'd succumb to your sweet talk."

He'd already come to the same conclusion, but it was good to have it confirmed. He had no wish to waste time that could be better spent pursuing others. "What about the rest of your motley crew, hm? There are some good looking men among them as well."

She paused for a few moments, thinking. "Anders would probably be open to suggestion, he got quite a reputation for himself in the Circle Tower. I don't know about Nathaniel."

Zevran leaned forward. "Tell me about Nathaniel. He is the son of Loghain's traitorous lackey, yes? Do you truly trust him?"

Neria refilled their wine glasses. "He's a good man. He came here initially to kill me." She paused at Zevran's bark of laughter, smiling a little herself. "But then he decided he just wanted to reclaim some of his past. I felt sorry for him I guess. His father was a monster, but it wasn't right for me to judge him for his father's sins.

"I think one of the reasons he came here was to find some reason to excuse Howe's actions during the Blight. He wanted it to be someone else's fault, and that his father was just a victim. I think reuniting with his sister finally convinced him of the truth."

Zevran marveled at Neria's willingness to trust almost anyone. "It seems you have not broken your habit of befriending those who try to kill you."

Neria nodded her head in agreement. "He's proven valuable, and yes, he has become a friend. Strange as that might seem."

Yawning, Zevran stood up and stretched. "I hate to cut our reunion short, but I am desperately in need of some sleep. It was a long journey."

Neria stood and pulled her friend into another hug. "I'm glad you're here. Maybe you can help whip some of our recruits into shape. It's amazing how so many of them are worthless with a dagger."

"I would be glad to." He kissed Neria on the cheek and bade her goodnight.

The next day Anders set about putting his plan into motion. It was a tricky thing, trying to let Zevran know he was interested without completely pushing Nathaniel away. A little jealousy was good, but too much would ruin his plans.

At first he had thought to show off his magical talents, giving the assassin some idea of the benefits of bedding a mage (if he didn't already know.) But after being bawled out by Sigrun for incinerating all of the training dummies in the practice yard, he abandoned those efforts. In hindsight, a fire spell may not have been the best talent to use. Lightning might have been a better choice.

Anders strolled over to where Zevran was sparring with one of the new recruits. "That's a very nice sword, Ser Rogue. Tell me, don't you have trouble handling one so…large?"

Zevran glanced away from his sparring partner long enough to grin at the mage. "I have handled much bigger, believe me. I have spent many years studying the ways of the sword, and have picked up many worthwhile techniques along the way."

Nathaniel was standing nearby, glaring at the assassin. Grinning wickedly, Anders decided to bait him. "Maybe you should spar with him some time Nate, that would definitely be a fight worth watching."

"Ah, but why just watch?" Zevran leered as he ducked his partner's wide swing. "I am more than capable of taking on two opponents at once."

Anders just bet he was. He spent a few more minutes admiring the lithe form of the elf. "What exactly do you see in him?" Nate asked quietly.

He turned to the brunet in surprise. "Well, he's got great hair." He tilted his head thoughtfully. "Nice body, muscular. Not to mention that voice. I'm a sucker for foreign accents." He gave Nate an inviting smile. "Of course, I'd much rather have someone tall, dark and handsome." He thought he caught a flicker of a smile on the rogue's lips, but it was gone too fast to be certain.

Still contemplating how he was going to successfully get the two rogues alone with him, he was surprised when Zevran solved the problem after dinner. He approached Anders and Nate, who were sitting in the dining hall with a bottle of what looked like brandy.

Straddling the bench next to Anders he held the bottle up. "Finest Antivan Brandy." He smiled. "I brought two bottles with me, one of which I gave to your illustrious Commander. I thought that perhaps you would like to share this one with me?" He nodded to Nathaniel, including him in the invitation.

Anders quirked a smile at Nate. "Come on, when are we ever going to get another chance to sample Antivan Brandy? I've heard it's quite good."

"I assure you," Zevran grinned at the two men. "neither of you will be disappointed."

Nate gave Anders one of his rare smiles, which sent shivers straight through him. "I suppose a drink wouldn't hurt."

An hour had passed since they had retired to Zevran's bedroom, and the brandy was about two-thirds gone. The two rogues were exchanging amused looks as Anders regaled them with yet another tale of his past sexual exploits.

"I'm telling you," he exclaimed, "you have not truly lived until you've had a templar inside a Chantry. Guilt sex is fantastic!" He and Zevran were reclining on a sofa by the fire, while Nathaniel sat in a chair across from them.

Zevran took a sip of his brandy. "I admit, I have never had a templar. But…I have dallied with a Revered Mother." Even Nate looked impressed. "Well, she was not a Revered Mother at the time, but she had already taken her vows, so I believe it still counts." He smirked as the other two burst into laughter.

"Alright, you win that round." Anders shook his head ruefully. "I should have known better than to get into a pissing contest with an Antivan Crow."

Suddenly Zevran slid closer to Anders and pulled him down into a kiss. Anders returned the kiss with enthusiasm, his tongue dueling with the assassin's. Nathaniel coughed and stood up, heading for the door.

Breaking from the kiss Zevran purred. "And just where do you think you're going, hmm?"

Nate paused at the door and turned back around. "I assumed the two of you would want some privacy." He said, with not a little bitterness.

"We'd rather you stayed." Anders said smoothly. He got up from the couch and walked over to him. Wrapping his arms around Nate's neck he placed a gentle kiss upon his lips. When there was no response he pulled back a little, worried the other man was going to turn him down. Instead, Nate pulled him into a fierce kiss. Lips mashing together, he plundered Anders' mouth with his tongue.

Not only was the kiss passionate, it felt a little possessive as well—as if Nate wanted to make a point to Zevran. Anders knew that shouldn't turn him on, but it did. Oh Maker, it did.

He felt arms wrap around him from behind and teeth lightly nipping at his neck, trailing from shoulder to the lobe of his ear. A shiver ran through him at the feeling of the two rogues pressed tight against him, both of their arousals clearly evident.

Zevran's hands moved to his waist, deftly untying the sashes of his robes while Nate continued kissing him hotly. A slight rustle as he felt his robes being pulled off and then Zevran's lips were on him again, kissing his shoulder, his neck, and then nipping at his earlobe.

Breaking away from Nate's mouth he turned his head and pulled Zevran into a kiss, tugging at the assassin's bottom lip with his teeth. Nate took the opportunity to explore the mage's body with his hands, running them over his chest and arms.

Pulling away from the kiss, Anders smiled wickedly. "You two are wearing entirely too many clothes." He groaned at the absence of heat as the two rogues pulled away from him. Rather than removing his own leathers, however, Nate moved over to Zevran and began unbuckling his belts. Zevran returned the favor and soon all three were naked.

Anders clasped hands with both rogues and pulled them over to the bed. As soon as they were all situated on the bed, he pushed Zevran onto his back and stretched out on top of him. He began kissing the elf hotly, hands caressing that golden flesh.

Not wanting Nathaniel to be left out, Anders encouraged him to lay on his side next to Zevran. While he mapped the assassin's body with lips and tongue, he reached over and began lightly stroking Nate's erection.

Kissing his way down Zevran's chest he reached up to pinch one of the elf's nipples between his fingers. Grinning to himself, he allowed a tiny pulse of magic to spread from his hands into both men. Nathaniel cried out and bucked sharply into his hand while Zevran tightened his hold on Anders' hair, pulling almost painfully.

"I had no idea you were so wicked." Zevran gasped. Anders responded by wrapping his lips around the tip of Zevran's hardness. Still stroking Nate, he dragged his tongue along Zevran's length before taking him to the hilt in one swift motion. Zevran was experienced enough to keep his hips still, and Anders was grateful for that as he didn't want to have to abandon Nate to prevent the assassin from bucking into his mouth.

He started a slow and steady rhythm, matching the pace of his mouth with the pace of his hand. Zevran's moans mixed with Nate's to create a constant stream of pleasurable sounds. Slender fingers tightened in his hair, indicating that Zevran was close to release. He let go of Nate and grasped Zevran's sac, massaging it as the elf shot his seed into his mouth.

As soon as Zevran had calmed Anders returned his attentions to Nate. Using both hands now, he stroked the brunet to his own climax as he moaned the mage's name. He pulled Anders into a hard kiss, tongue licking up the drop of Zevran's release that had escaped his lips.

Anders felt Zevran shift on the bed and move behind him. Nate came up on his knees as well and pulled him up so that he was sandwiched between the two rogues. Anders was in heaven. Two sets of hands were roaming up and down his body, two sets of lips were vying for his own. As soon as Nate released him from one kiss, Zevran was pulling him into another.

The bed shifted again and Anders could hear Zevran rummaging around in the chest near the bed, cursing in Antivan until he finally found what he'd been looking for. Pulling out a small vial of oil he returned to the bed and pressed himself against Anders' back once more.

Anders saw the look of want on Nate's face as he watched the assassin run his tongue along the shell of Anders' ear. "Kiss him." He whispered. Nate looked at him with surprise, then looked at Zevran. Slowly, hesitantly, he cupped the elf's cheek in his hand and pressed forward for a kiss. Zevran returned it with enthusiasm and soon the two were ravaging each other's mouths.

Several long moments later, Nate pulled back from Zevran and immediately set upon Anders' lips, kissing him breathless. He heard the pop of a cork as the bottle of oil was unstoppered, then moaned into Nate's mouth as he felt Zevran's finger at his entrance.

He leaned forward into Nate's arms to give Zevran better access. He felt the push of a finger inside him and groaned deeply. Pleasuring the two men had made him almost painfully hard and the thrust of Zevran's finger was bringing him close to the edge.

When Zevran inserted a second finger Anders dug his fingers into Nate's back, biting down on the juncture between neck and shoulder. Nate pulled loose the tie binding the mage's hair and dragged his nails along his scalp.

Raising his head up he pressed a kiss to Nate's lips before gently pushing the brunet back a little. When Nate had moved back far enough for Anders to bend over fully Zevran slowly pushed into him from behind. Wanting to be filled from both ends, Anders took Nate's hardness into his mouth, his lips wrapped around the tip, tongue dipping into the slit there.

The feeling of Zevran pushing inside him was exquisite. The elf moved forward slowly until he was seated all the way inside. He paused for a moment and Anders savored the feeling of having Zevran fully inside him while having Nate in his mouth at the same time.

Slowly Zevran pulled out, pausing for a long moment before pushing back in. The pace was torture and Anders thrust his hips back, urging the assassin to speed up his movements. A chuckle behind him indicated Zevran had gotten the message and indeed he did pick up the pace slightly.

Anders groaned loudly at the feeling and Nate bucked slightly into his mouth, twining his fingers into his hair. Anders put his hands onto the man's hips to keep him steady while he took Nate into his mouth entirely, tongue laving his hardness.

An eternity seemed to pass, with nothing but moans and breathless gasps passing between the three men. Nearing release, Zevran picked up the pace, thrusting fiercely into Anders as he grasped the mage's length and started stroking.

His loud groans were having an effect on Nate, the brunet trying desperately to thrust his hips only to be stopped by Anders' hands. He pulled his mouth back slightly and circled his thumb and forefinger around Nate's girth. Reaching back he grasped Zevran's hip and again allowed that small bit of magic to surge through him into both men.

"A-Anders!" Nate cried out. "Maker's Breath! Anders!" His seed shot down the mage's throat and he swallowed it up greedily. Zevran begun thrusting harder and more erratically, hand wrapped tight around Anders' length. The sensations drove them both over the edge at the same time, and Anders felt Zevran release deep inside him as his own spurted into Zevran's hand.

Gasping hard, he collapsed bonelessly onto the bed, barely registering the feeling of the rogues curling up on either side of him. As Zevran peppered lazy kisses along his back, Anders pressed his lips against Nate's. "Thanks for staying." He grinned.

Nate chuckled quietly and brushed his lips against the mage's ear. "Let's not wait for another one of the Commander's friends to arrive before doing this again." He whispered. Laughing softly Anders closed his eyes, and drifted into a peaceful slumber, feeling the warmth of the two rogues wrapped around him.