Author's Note: If you've read Chapter 5 of Dragon Age: The Kill, you might recognise the first section. The prompt entry itself is below, and I wrote it with this scene in mind, so I wanted to include it here for context. This is...also probably the closest I have ever gotten to writing m/m slash. Nothing explicit, but just a warning. :)
"You seem to have returned from your mission one less hand than you departed…"
"Rinna didn't make it, master," Taliesen said when Zevran utterly failed to respond. As the leader, as the one who had been granted the contract, it should have been the elf's duty to reply. Indeed, Zevran should have been all but gloating about his success at killing such a difficult mark. Everyone knew the contract had been granted with the intent of knocking him down a peg or two, if not killing him.
It seemed to have knocked him flat.
"No matter," the master said with a thin-lipped smile. "She can be replaced easily enough." He stood before them, eyes shifting from human to elf and back again. "What went amiss?"
"Just a stupid mistake, ser," Taliesen said with a shake of his head. He kept his gaze respectfully lowered. "The girl wasn't experienced enough. She underestimated the guards and—"
The master's fist, ringed with bronze as it emerged from his robe, swished towards Taliesen's jaw. There was a crunch and a sharp grunt of commingled surprise and pain, then a second fist slammed into Taliesen's gut and a knee met his face as he doubled up.
Zevran stood rigidly immobile as his companion hit the floor backwards, bleeding and barely succeeding at not making a noise through his agony.
The master pulled off the knuckleduster and massaged his hand with a thoughtful air. "I don't appreciate deception," he said in mild tones, "especially when it's ineptly delivered, Taliesen. Lying is an art, you see, and it pains me to see it done so poorly.
"The Crows know you killed Rinna. We know the why, we know the where. We even know about your fond farewell." This he said while standing directly before Zevran. "Lift your face, assassin. I wish to see it as I speak. Poets say that eyes are the windows to the soul."
Golden-brown eyes, carefully empty of emotion, met those the shade of new spring grass.
"We know, Zevran," he said, "and we don't care. Rinna served her purpose; you will keep serving yours until your time comes. It's as simple as that."
And there they were. The words that brought his fanciful beliefs that skill and prowess were a measure of his worth as an assassin down around his ears. He had thought for so long that his many successes made him more valuable to the House of Crows, that being the best meant something…but it was not so. He was nothing. He could be replaced, just as she would be, and the Crows would shed as many tears over his corpse as he had for Rinna's.
None.
"Congratulations, by the way, on the success of your mission," the master added, staring unblinkingly into Zevran's eyes and smiling as though he could see a light there, somewhere in the golden depths, flicker and die.
"Sod me in the sodding—" Taliesen deliberately let a hiss of pain escape his lips as he pressed the wet cloth to his jaw, and glared at where Zevran sat on the other side of the small room. "Thanks, Zev. Thanks a lot. You couldn't have said something back there rather than standing with your thumb up your ass? I really enjoyed getting a sodding knuckleduster to the sodding face."
Zevran barely glanced over from his seat on the cot. Taliesen watched him surreptitiously in between tending his aching jaw. His open and slightly exaggerated display of pain and annoyance should have gotten some sort of response from the elf, but he was just sitting there with an empty look in his eyes.
"Is it because we killed Rinna?" Taliesen asked bluntly, and held up his hands when that got Zevran's head to swivel towards him. "All right, because I killed Rinna? Is that it?" He frowned. "You want to blame me for sullying the complete success of an otherwise perfect mission? Is that why you're over there sulking rather than straddling my chest and offering to suck my lip better?"
The blond assassin didn't even respond to that, his eyes just staring and his face without expression.
What is wrong with him?
Taliesen felt a bit of actual anger at that point. After all, he'd been the one to try and cover the truth of Rinna's death rather than risk the Crows taking exception to the mistake. He'd been the one to cop a fist full of bronze to his face when Dario had seen through the lies, a second fist to his gut, and then a sharp knee to his chin when he'd doubled up. Taliesen had tried to protect the both of them, and while he didn't expect gratitude for that he was not about to put up with blame.
The human stood, dropping his damp cloth and standing before the elf with arms outspread. "Go on, then. Take your best shot." He turned his face to present the side Master Dario hadn't marked. "Blow to the face? Kick to the balls? Or…oh!" He plastered a big fake smile to his face. "You want an apology, maybe? Want me to kneel before your altar, Chantry-style?" Without waiting for a response, Taliesen crossed to where the other Crow sat, lowered himself to the wooden floor and placed a hand on each of Zevran's bare, bronzed knees.
"Forgive me, Brother," he whispered, the smile turning sly, a gleam coming to his eyes and a sudden warmth coiling in the pit of his stomach at the very thought of pulling this off. He hadn't tasted Zevran since she had caught his eye and claimed his bed, and he had missed this. "Forgive me, Brother, for I...have...sinned." Deft fingers punctuated his words, skating a teasing path from knees to inner-thigh, hovering lightly just within the shadows of the long panels of the elf's leather skirt. "And it has been far too long since my last confession…don't you think?"
The lids of Zevran's eyes had drifted half-closed, and something of his usual heated gaze shot the gold and lust back into his irises. His full lips parted. "I…"
Taliesen grinned, pleased with himself, and pulled the other man's unresisting thighs open. "O-ho…looks like someone missed me after all." He laughed, sliding a hand further up, relishing the feel of familiar territory. "A shame Rinna never wanted to share," he added conversationally. "We could have really—"
Zevran was instantly moving, off the bed and away from the kneeling assassin. Taliesen cursed under his breath and took the elf's place on the mattress, hearing the cheap springs creak beneath his weight.
"So this is about her." Taliesen snorted at the look Zevran shot him. "Sodding great. You know what? Fine. I'm sorry. It was my informant that gave us the bad information, it was my idea to kill her, it was my dagger that cut her throat. But you know what, Zevran? I didn't see you kicking up any kind of fuss when I suggested we knife her. You said you cared nothing for her!"
"I do care nothing for her," Zevran snapped, with more heat than Taliesen had expected. The human lifted his brows.
"And you made that very clear when we both watched her bleed out," he said dryly. "So what the sod has crawled up your ass? You heard Master Dario—the Crows don't care she's dead! They're not even going to punish us, which puts you and me, my friend, in the clear." He grinned, ignoring the twitch of pain in his face. "And do you know what that means for us, Zev?"
In a hollow-sounding echo of his normally rich voice, Zevran said, "What does it mean, Taliesen?"
"One less way to cut the pay." Taliesen leaned back, beaming. "That so-called incredibly difficult job we just pulled off? The profit's all yours and mine, brother. Plus, I bet there's not a Crow in Antiva City who won't hear of our success; most of the bastards were betting we'd all wind up dead. I heard the masters even had a sodding pool going."
When Zevran said nothing, not even expressing satisfaction at the additional wealth Rinna's death would provide them, Taliesen gave up with a shake of his head.
"The Zevran I know," he said, getting up, "would be strutting around the Nest with his 'best Crow in all of Antiva' lines. He'd be wasting his coin on good wine and the best prostitutes the city has—none of that harbour-side dive rubbish. Instead you're going to sit here and…what? Mope over your favourite sex toy getting broken?" He sighed in disgust. "Maker help us. I can only imagine what the others will say when this rumour gets out."
Zevran's sharp retort cut the air as the human headed for the door. "Are you planning on opening your mouth out there, Taliesen?"
"Well if you're not interested in my mouth, maybe someone else will be," he shot over his shoulder.
Finally, finally, Zevran reacted. Taliesen felt the leather straps crossing the back of his armour seized, and he was pulled backwards from the door then pushed back down to the bed.
"I think not," Zevran told him flatly. "You were right about the mission: we were successful. But you were wrong about Rinna: she was nothing. She was not my…favourite sex toy." He sank to his knees before the other Crow, just as Taliesen had been kneeling not long before, and flashed a smile from beneath cold gold eyes.
"What's this then?" Taliesen demanded, but feeling no pressing desire to stop the elf's obvious intent.
"Must you ask, my old friend?" Zevran's fingers had the other man's smallclothes down with a quick pull. Lips twitched into a knowing grin. "I believe you said you wanted me to…suck something better, no?"
Taliesen just laughed at that, a sound that quickly dissolved into a heated moan of pleasure and self-satisfaction.
Now there is the Zevran I remember.