Chapter 1
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters from DA. The only thing I claim to have made is the personality of my own Warden.
Rating: MA for language, gore, and sexual situations. Note that any chapter that contains sexual acts will have a warning at the top encase you prefer to skip that sort of thing.
Summary: Osiam has gathered his companions, he's bulldozed his way through half of his grueling journey, capturing the faith and loyalty of the elves, and of the mages, now as he dodges around assassination attempts from differing sources, and continues to defy those who wish his death on his journey to save , possibly the entire world...Could it be that the refined and silent mage is finding himself distracted by a more serious threat...Love? Zevran x M Warden
Edit 1/14/12: I've fiddled with the first chapter to make it seem more appealing to read, as well as take out some uneeded things and add more emotion to some quotes. I've already started plotting the more detailed structures of chapter two out and hope to have it typed out somewhat soon.
The dark figure of the warden shifted silently by the smoldering fire, his bright golden eyes darted up quickly as Alistar approached the fire, from the pitch black depths of the outer camp.
"Had enough for one night?" He asked with the usual smile of his that said he tried to make light despite their situation. Silence followed, causing Alistar to grunt awkwardly, but finally the warden glanced back up after poking his dainty foot at the fire, and nodded. Alistar gazed silently away for a moment before catching the warden as he shifted by "Right...Hey."
Osiam paused as he felt a hand placed on his shoulder, looking back from where he had turned to leave.
"Do you...want to talk about today?" The question was posed carefully, and hesitantly. Not because Alistar didn't want to really hear it, but because he didn't want to see the already strict mage become angry in any way. But to his relief the warden only shook his head and stepped back casually to his tent.
His dark skin vanished as he crossed the lit line of the fire's reach. Even though it was nearly impossible to see this far out, he could tell there was a certain Antivan watching him from aside his tent. "..." Osiam lifted his head, staring unimpressed at the equally as short, male elf. Zevran only smiled and nodded. "Warden."
His sharp golden eyes squinted in distrust before he jerked his mangled cloak around himself and hunkered down into his tent. Thoughts and opinions on the assassin channeled through his mind as he made himself a bed of cloth. Zevran was a good fighter, and he knew exactly where to be on the battle field when one of the less armored team mates were being battered. However, even with all they had been through so far, raking down werewolves and destroying abominations, he felt the former Crow was only clinging to his hope of getting out alive. As soon as the wardens use had expired, so would his life no doubt. But he had no intentions of letting Zevran's selfish desires stop him from saving the innocent people who were already being slaughtered by darkspawn. He glared softly at his bed as he clutched a thin sheet of covers in his smooth hands. He was going to survive.
Zevran had seen what mages can do in the circle, he doubted the man was dumb enough to suddenly attack Osiam. His unsureness continued to gnaw on him though, as he slid a hand through his deep chocolate hair, it was surprisingly well trimmed for an elf, or rather, and elf that was traveling all over. He liked it short though, long hair snagged and required care to keep decent. As he lowered himself to sleep, he was sent into dreams with the memory of those two coined whores he'd seen at the inn in Lothering, their hair blistered and split off. Bleh.
A thin sliver of light flooded through the slightly parted entrance to the tent, running up Osiam's body and ending just over his right eye, and hairline. "..." He pinched the same eye shut in discomfort before sitting up to glare curiously through the overbearing glimmer of the morning sun. His hand reached out to pull aside one of the cloth flaps and crawl out.
"Good morning warden!" He scrunched up his nose almost instantly shooting his glare at Zevran who was always up in time to greet him every morning. "Oh, come now, Your anger at my hospitable greetings wounds me deeper every day warden." Though he said so, his lips slid further into a grin after every word he spoke.
Osiam look unamused again, less angry, but definitely unimpressed as always, before he stretched out his back and stood up straight. Usually there was no time to bathe everyday, or even change. His most often worn clothes were a pair of slack black cloth pants, and a loose cloak whos dusty dark grey body fanned over his body in ripples, though left open enough to see he didn't bother clothing his chest. There was a wide hood as well to be lifted over himself when his elf roots became a problem in some town. Not that it helped much when one of their most helpful and often used companions was an elf himself.
Sometimes Osiam thought the assassin could read his mind, for as soon as the problem of being picked on for having elf partners came into mind, the Crow called out for the warden and strutted over very casually.
"Your cloak is very fancy warden!" He cocked his head as the words rolled slyly from his lips.
Osiam squinted his eyes, as if he predicted this conversation wasn't going to interest him in the least.
"Perhaps you'd take ...me, somewhere to buy one?" Which of course meant that Zevran was looking for a free escort to some city without rousing suspicion.
"Just one minute there..." Alistar strode over as well, looking as intimidating and protective as he possibly could while still being himself. "Just where are you asking us to take you? How can we trust you haven't planted an ambush for us?"
Osiam hadn't though of that, he glanced thankfully to Alistar then suspiciously to Zevran who frowned and folded his arms.
"Warden we've traveled together for a few months now and still, no attempts to kill you. When will you trust that I have no dark ending planned for you? It is very discouraging no?"
Alistar twinged his mouth, obviously he didn't fully trust that little act of self pity. "Why do you really want to go to this place? And where is it?"
Zevran took a more serious posture. "I know it doesn't seem worth it at the moment , but! I know for sure there is a collection of Crows in the farmlands outside Lothering right now."
Alistar was the first to meet with an appalled comeback. "Lothering is gone! Everyone there who hadn't fled is dead! What would a bunch of assassins want there and why should we care if they're there? Don't you think we should avoid them? Or are you just so uncaring now that you wouldn't try to hide your own assassination plan from us?"
The two continued to go back and forth on why it was important to take out any patrol who might be close and or looking for them, or why it was important not to give away their location by chasing after stupid assassins, or how assassins were not stupid, just mage hunters were.
Osiam was thankful that Sten stepped heavily behind him and tapped his shoulder. "..." The dark elf turned and gave him a questioning look.
"...Are you...Arguing about something important?" He muttered casually.
Osiam glanced back at the pair, then back to Sten and shook his head.
"Then I suggest we go to this dwarf city underground, that is one of our destinations..correct?"
Osiam nodded again, but he found both men at his back in an instant.
"What if this group finds us on our way? I hope the brilliant mage hunter will be prepared. Crows are not something to throw a stick at you know."
Alistar came back quickly with. "Which is exactly why we need to avoid them! What if one of us gets hurt? Hm? You think it'd be a fancy trip to the place where darkspawn are birthed, with a dagger in our back? I'm telling you, we can't afford to fight needlessly at the moment. There's more to this than just smashing through everyone we hear about who stands between us and the blight. We need to pick our fights carefully so we're all still standing when we're needed the most." He gave Osiam a stern look, one that said not to take this situation lightly.
"..." He glanced to Sten, then nodded and began to shuffle back to his tent where he kept his staff. But not before catching an unusually frustrated look from Zevran. Usually the man didn't have strong opinions on where Osiam led them, the followed and killed like he was meant to. Why was this such a big deal to him?
Osiam rolled his eyes as if the man were acting childish, and reached around his tent in a kneeling position so he wouldn't have to fully enter the tent. A hard, dry wood hit his fingers and he grabbed the thin object, reeling it out with ease. It was a staff made of iron bark, an impressive object. The tip was melted into itself, making it look like one mighty gripping set of claws. Inside the claws was a dragons heart, ambered in melted drake scales. The elf would admit he liked a good dragon hunt, though truthfully he'd feel higher if he could tame one and use it as a mount to ride around on. That'd most likely make half of the idiots who suddenly attacked his companions, think twice and spare the warden some time. Osiam traced his fingers down the rugged shaft of the staff, lingering in the areas where he'd tied strips of cloth. Each, was a reminder.
"Oh warden." A quiet sigh followed the summons, darker elf looking up at the Crow who was apparently back to his regular, "optimistic" self. "You know, it has come to my attention that you seem to be a very dark person." He jerked a grin over his face with the word 'dark' "I find you so very alluring. I cannot believe with all of your tenseness you still refuse to let me message you."
Osiam opened his mouth to materialize some snappy remark but Alistar was there to save him the time.
"And let you stab him in the back at the same time? You can't possibly believe he'd let you after you told everyone that dreadful story of the girl in the carriage who fell out and died."
Zevran clicked his tongue back at the would be templar. "Tsk tsk tsk, Alistar I did not kill that woman now did I?"
"Yes well you were going to. It's the same thing."
"She was a target, the warden is no longer my target." He chimed innocently, then added with an annoyed point to his tone. "And if I remember correctly, I told that story to the smart warden, no one else. That you have large ears is not my fault." There was a silent cackle of laughter plastered on his face as he watched Alistar have a powerful struggle with how to controle the rage that followed the comment. Finally, he seemed to regain himself, but wasn't finished with Zev.
"Oh? And how can we be sure of that? You said yourself Crows will kill even after they make something out to be over. That right?" He nodded and looked quickly to Osiam who glanced back at him and eventually nodded slowly. "Yes, that's settled then, no weirdo hand movey things." Alistar then fully faced Osiam and offered. "So who are we taking this time?"
It was a question Alistar asked every morning, and in the same tone, it almost sounded programmed into the man's brain. They were going to travel to the underground city, they might bump into a group of scavenger crows looking to finish Zevrans job. His mind snapped together all of the possible outcomes of his team to be. He nodded at Wynne, then Zevran. Alistar knew that he was one of the very few people Osiam actually trusted with every little thing in his he'd always be a key role in all the battles.
They did nothing separately when it came to fighting. Despite the fact that Alistar might have been a mage hunter if given enough time. As the group prepared themselves and began to leave camp, Osiam began to recall how much he used to distrust even Alistar. When he'd first arrived in camp with Duncan, the elf was resentful of the skilled warden. He hadn't wanted to leave his calm life in the tower, he hadn't wanted to find out his best friend lied to him. He didn't want to trust or fight or ever leave the spot he stood in as Jowan admitted he'd lied...and was a blood mage.
Osiam blinked his attention back to the road. Everything was quiet and even the watchful assassin of his was focusing on things that they usually couldn't because they were busy looking around themselves.
"Tell me my warden." Zevran finally requested the wardens attention again with a sudden conversation.
Osiam glared defensively as always, met with a pleased chuckle.
"I love the way you respond to me warden. there is no one quite like you, I must say. Not that I have met, anyway...As I was saying. I was watching you a few moments ago."
The young mage wanted to snap at him, telling him not to watch him and to mind his own business, but Zevran knew Osiam only ever spoke if he had to, and so carried on without pause.
"I noticed you looked very, very distant. I cannot help but wonder what sort of thought could pull you so very far from this waking world." There was little to no slyness in his voice, just general curiosity, which surprised Osiam just a little.
"..." He looked at Alistar, who had peeked back to make sure Zevran wasn't grinding to hard on the younger warden's nerves.
"Probably his old home." Alistar guessed. "...Or the battle..." His voice died to a slightly haunted mutter.
Osiam looked up and took a few long strides to stand aside the taller male, peering around him questionably.
"Oh!" He flinched and smiled sheepishly. "No, it's fine, I was just..."
Zevran took the same long strides Osiam did, though tried to flash a fancy display of shoulder movement as he did so. "Just feeling bad for yourself?" He smirked.
That was all it took for the two to start going at each other again.
Osiam squinted his eyes and took a few steps away from them, looking back to find Wynne at a concerning distance from them. He slowed himself until the two other men were far ahead, and Wynne had caught up.
"Don't worry about me." She smiled warmly, the age in her eyes only amplified the kindness in her frail voice. "I'm only back here because I foresaw those two fighting. It's like this every time you bring them both somewhere isn't it?"
Osiam continued to walk alongside her, but glanced around as if he were pausing, then nodded, he hadn't noticed that until now.
"It makes me wonder if that's why you're so quiet." She chuckled jokingly, but fell into a serious tone just after. "But truly...I've always known you to be a quiet boy, from the first day they brought you in as a tiny thing, just barely off of your mothers lap. Would it be too bold of me to ask why that is?"
Osiam had already begun to ponder his relationship with Wynne, and exactly how much he trusted her. Out of all his companions, he'd known her the longest. She was an older mage at the circle when he arrived, and took a motherly fancy to him like she did all of the children. But he didn't want to discuss his past to anyone. An no amount of trust would change that. Osiam looked away regretfully, and Wynne only smiled.
"I understand." She murmured.
The thick and stubbly, dried trees around them had slowly started to change as they traveled further, each new mile brought more girth and height to the tree's. Their bark, darker, as well as their leaves. Eventually pine needles replaced the thrush of leaves, and snow had begun to fall. Osiam crossed his eyes as a single flake of snow landed gently on his nose.
"Oh, my warden." The softness of the voice surprised him, as the Crow had just seen a unicorn draft down from the skies and kiss a kitten on the head witht he upmost care.
He looked up.
"That pure white drift of snow upon your endlessly delicious dark skin is an unbearable contrast. Why do you tempt me so?"
The mage wrinkled his nose and quickly brushed the snow away quickly.
He heard Zevran begin to laugh delightfully, which only made him more sour.
"You're lucky he's so patient with you." He heard Alistars distant voice mutter to the Crow. "If you tried any of that talk on me-"
Zevran chuckled darkly and responded instantly "Why would I try it on you? You're not alluring or attractive in the least."
Alistar let out a jumble of sounds, most were angered, some were embarrassed. "I never said-"
Osiam brought his eyes on Zevran as the elf assassin began to laugh again. "Now now Alistar, I said you werent attractive, I didn't say I wouldn't give you a chance to ask me to your tent" There was a mock pity there as Zevran finished.
That only riled the mage hunter further, he began to threaten using his sword on Zevran, who so skillfully replied that he'd love to see Alistar's sword up close and in person.
The younger elf warden had to fight the urge to crack even a small smile.
Wynne was shaking her head in light mood behind him just a few paces. "At least they wont be able to bicker when the darkspawn are around."
Osiam nodded absent mindedly, having started to think about them now that the group was closing in on the city.
This is where most wardens came to fight and kill as many darkspawn as they could before meeting their pre-determined fate. Would he do that to? Would he follow his new found instincts as he grew older, and die in the deep roads, alone...and hated?
"Warden!" A sharp call popped his head up, Zevran was strutting playfully towards him.
"He's gonna run you through you know." He heard Alistar warn the Crow from the front of the line.
Why did the elf always seem to rip him out of his own thoughts? Perhaps he knew dark things plagued Osiam's mind...No..He wasn't a mind reader. "..." Osiam glared as per usual when the "Blond Beauty." Circled around him and looked him over.
"The sun is very high." He murmured softly. "Shall we stop for a very short meal?"
The idea sounded ok, but a deeper part of him didn't want to admit to liking any of Zevran's ideas.
He nodded slowly and glanced around at his other party members who seemed never the wiser, and simply gathered around a set spot where they'd build a small fire.
Alistar cautioned with every inch each of them moved, that they should be sure to keep themselves from being spotted, by keeping the fire thumb sized and hunkering down and what not.
As per usual, Zevran proceeded to taunt the man about how he was so scared of the big bad bandits.
But just as the Antivan drew his hands up in a mocking high pitched, but quiet scree of terrior, a loud roar echoed from the bushes just behind Osiam and Wynne, who had settled around a cleared patch of ground where they were about to begin building the fire...And then...It tore from the sharp pine thrush.
END OF CHAPTER ONE. Please please leave reviews, spelling or grammar corrections. It's all OK. This is my first story posting publicly and I wanna know what everyone thinks so far.
