Author's Note:

This Dragon Age/Dragon Age II fanfic has been festering in my hard drive for a few months now, and I've only just convinced myself to publish it. This is my first ever multi-chapter fanfic, so while comments are welcome, please do be gentle with me.

Prologue: A Reunion of Sorts

When Zevran and his companion entered the tavern, he immediately knew where to look to find their client. Looking over at the bar, he spotted a lone woman with black curls and a bountiful bosom signaling the barkeep for another pint.

"Ah, Isabela," he said as they approached her. "Still drinking enough liquor to knock a hardened sailor unconscious, I see."

Isabela looked over her shoulder and beamed. "Zevran! I was starting to think you wouldn't show up."

The elven woman at his side snorted, glancing around at a few tavern patrons who were now staring at the assassin with suspicion. "We hoped for a quiet meeting, Isabela."

"Ah, I'm sorry," Isabela said, lowering her voice in a mock whisper. "I keep forgetting how important you are now, Zev. Or is it… say, what do you call the leader of the Crows?"

Zevran smiled, causing the wrinkles in the corners of his eyes, ironically called "Crow's Feet", to show. "No real title in particular. You may still continue to call me Zevran, or Zev, or any other naughty nickname you can think of."

Zevran's companion coughed, placing a hand on his arm. "Might we consider continuing this conversation somewhere less public? We're going to have to deal with eavesdroppers now, since Isabela has so kindly announced your presence."

"Ah, mi amor," Zevran said. "You know no one dares meddle in our affairs anymore. They could be dead within minutes if they attempt anything foolish." He made sure to speak the last line a bit louder than the first, causing the curious tavern folk to suddenly become more intimate with their tankards.

Isabela smirked and sauntered over to Zevran, pausing to pat his companion on the shoulder. "I see you still haven't gotten that stick out of your ass after all these years. What was that name you said you went by now? Flora? Rosita?"

"Rosa," she hissed, shrugging Isabela's hand off. "Let's head over to that room you said you had so we can start our… negotiations."

"Ooooh," Isabela cooed. "I like the way you say that."

Once they were in the privacy of Isabela's room, Rosa pulled down her hood and shook out the red hair that lay beneath it. It was pulled back in a loose bun, and Zevran always thought the stray locks framed her face and neck quite prettily. Judging by the look on Isabela's face as she watched the redhead told him she agreed.

"So," Rosa said, ignoring Isabela's approving stare and throwing her cloak over an empty chair. "What's this 'urgent matter' you mentioned in your letter?"

Isabela threw her hands up in the air in exasperation. "Oh, come on! Here I thought you'd be friendlier once we were out of the public eye!"

Rosa snorted and raised her eyebrows. "Were you expecting me to kiss your cheeks and beg you to tell me all about your adventures?"

Isabela turned her attention to Zevran, who was watching them with a twinkle in his eye. "How do you live with this dried up excuse of an elf, Zev?"

The assassin threw an arm around Rosa and grinned. "Ah, my saucy little minx finds ways to keep me content." He winked at Rosa, making her to smile in spite of herself. "But she is right, Isabela. I believe you do need to fill us in on this 'urgent matter' you spoke of in your letter. Business is still business, you know."

"Fine," Isabela said, gesturing for the two elves to follow her further into the room, where she proceeded to sit down on a chair huffily. "There's this man that needs to be dealt with."

"Yes, yes," Rosa said, waving her hand impatiently. "You addressed the letter to the Antivan Crows. We already know this is an assassination job. Just tell us who he is and he'll be dead."

"Well, it's more complicated than that," Isabela said, leaning back in her chair and running her hands through her black curls. "For one thing, the man is a Tevinter magister. A senator."

Zevran shrugged. "We get requests for political assassinations every day, my dear. His rank and position do not matter."

"Indeed," Rosa said, her brow creasing into a frown. "But Tevinter senators aren't our typical politicians. The fact that this man has made it all the way to the Senate means he's an incredibly powerful and influential blood mage. That might prove to be a challenge, even for the Crows."

"Oh, but previous generations of Crows have dealt with Tevinter magisters before," Zevran grinned. "And besides… I like challenges. Continue, Isabela."

"So the second thing…" Isabela took in a deep breath before continuing. "We also need to rescue someone. A slave."

Zevran and Rosa eyed each other with raised eyebrows. The combination of Isabela wanting to rescue a lone slave and how she said "we" instead of "you" led them to question Isabela's sobriety. And sanity.

Isabela caught the exchanged glances, and slammed her fist against the table. "Damn it, you two, I'm being serious here! If you can't bring yourselves to believe I want to ask for your help in rescuing one slave, then-"

"Alright," Zevran interrupted, gently. "Calm down, Isabela. Tell us what this is about."