I have a very bad habit of not being able to work on one story at a time. Weird as it sounds, I actually work better, and faster if I am working on at least two stories at once. I start on one, and it makes me think of the other, and boom creativity happens! Whether that is good or bad.. well... luckily I never ask. :P
This could be seen as either a stand alone or a companion piece to "I Found You", and "Spices and Shoe Leather". They all revolve around the same Warden/Zevran pair.
I can definitely say though that this story won't be nearly as long as the first, but much longer then the latter.
Why did I wait till chapter two to write up here? No idea. Perhaps I am just weird.
Hope everyone enjoys.
Lyna watched a few moments as the others around her went about setting up base camp. They had traveled most of the day, and would reach the ferry to the mages' tower by tomorrow evening. She glanced down at the parchment in her hand, the charcoal ticks that represented the days that they had been traveling.
Four days. Three if it hadn't been for the interruption from the assassin that was currently helping Oghren to split wood. So five days to get to the tower and ask for help, and then four days back.
She hoped that Teagan could hold everything together that long.
She worried that she had made the wrong decision about the boy. Perhaps she should have simply killed him, or Isolde. Gotten it over with quickly and seen what she could do about the Arl; not that she had even the first clue of where to start with that. She had wanted to do the right thing though, had wanted to save them all.
Did not want the blood of a child on her hands.
It was easy enough to justify, and having Alistair being so against the alternative had helped to confirm what she told Bann Teagan. She didn't want to let him down; didn't want to let any of them down. The Bann had been kind to her, gracious when others would have looked down their noses at her. She wanted to pay him back.
So lost in her thoughts, she did not hear the footsteps behind her; because of this she nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt a hand clamp on her shoulder. Giving a strangled cry she whirled on the intruder, and stared wide eyed and rasping into Alistair's smiling face.
"Lost in thought?"
She gave a nod, and covered her heart with her hand. "Creators, Alistair, did you have to scare the wits out of me?"
His smile turned into a laugh and his hand slipped away. "Yes." He lifted his gaze to where Oghren and Sten were arguing over the best way to get the wood finished, all the while Zevran calming chopping away. "So when do you think he will turn against us?"
She blew out her breath, her eyes traveling to the group he was staring at. "I don't think he will, at least not unless the Crows show up and welcome him back with open arms." She shrugged, "Maybe not even then."
He was shaking his head even before she had finished talking, looking down at her with narrowed eyes. "Oh he will most definitely betray us. I wish you had not given him back his weapons."
"He can't be left hanging, Alistair. We kept him alive for a reason. I won't have him traveling us, fighting with us, unarmed. We have to show some faith."
"You left him alive, not me. Don't pretend that anyone else made that decision." He looked off again, missing the way her face clouded.
Lifting her foot, she took a moment to think that boots did have their uses then slammed the heel down on his own booted toes. When he yelped and doubled over to grab at the smarting digits she took the advantage and grasped the collar of his chain-mail, forcing him level with her.
"You put me in charge. You said you didn't want to make the decisions. You have been as indecisive as a girl about a coupling, and almost as passive." She pressed her face closer to his, her blue eyes dark with fury that had built up over days. She faintly realized that her voice was growing louder with each word. "I did not ask for this responsibility. I did not ask or want to be put in charge. I am doing it because you did not want to. I didn't even have a choice of becoming a Grey Warden, so spare me the hits at what you consider bad ideas. If you want to make the rules, tell us what we need to be doing, and how to do it, fine. Good. I will be happy to hand you the reigns." She stepped forward, her arm rigid, causing him to stumble back, his face wide and white with what she assumed was astonishment. "However, if you want me to stay in charge then no more jabs. No more questioning what I decide is best to do. You will do as I say, and how I say it. I won't tolerate dissension, Alistair. Not even from you." With those last words she shoved at him, barely sparing a glance to where the others stood, stock still around the camp, before storming away.
She barely made it ten feet into the woods before slamming her fist into a tree. She forced herself to calm down; taking slow breathes as she sorted through the names of the Creators, and each of their stories. She wasn't sure how long she had been standing there before opening her eyes again.
She should not have blown up like that. It wasn't Alistair's fault. Not really, and she would usually invite his input in things. She was just angry. Angry at him, yes, but mostly herself. What did it matter what he thought about anything.
Had she not been telling him, not a week ago that he needed to be more decisive? Yes, but not about this. She had wanted him to be certain about his feeling for her. It galled that he could not make a definitive statement about whether he was attracted to her without asking for her permission, but that he could be so sure about how he felt about Zevran.
She made a strangled sound of disgust and buried her face in her hands, dropping onto the ground beneath a tree.
"You know, the most passionate lovers often fight like cats and dogs. It can be a very good thing. I know from experience."
She glanced up at the voice, her eyes taking a moment to adjust in the gloom before the blob before her became Zevran. He was leaned casually against a tree, turned slightly away from her, his arms folded over his chest.
Giving a muffled laugh she let her hands drop away. "I can assure you that is not the case."
"Ah, well pity for our Warden friend, but good news for me, yes?"
She simply stared at him a moment, his smile friendly under her regard. Finally, she shifted a bit, her arms wrapping around her knees. She wanted to change the subject.
"What does it take to become an assassin?"
If the question threw him, he gave no sign, merely shifted to face her more fully before answering. "Well, the Crows would have you believe that it is an involved process that takes years of training." He paused just a moment before continuing, as if he was trying to remember what to say. "The kind that tests both your resolve and endurance. Survive that process, and maybe... just maybe, you're good enough to start to be considered one of them."
He paused again, this time to settle across from her on the ground. Before continuing he brushed away the hair that had fallen loose into his eyes, and sent her a conspiratory smile. "But, quite frankly the truth is that all it requires is a desire to kill for a living. It's surprising how well one can do in such a field."
She returned the smile, though hers was a bit more mocking. "You do quite well, I'm sure."
"Ah, yes, well. Within the Crows, I did. but it has been something that the Crows have devoted a great deal of time to perfecting." He leaned forward a bit, his hands moving as if to emphasize his words. "An assassin simply specializes in striking from stealth... and in maximizing that first attack to be as lethal as possible. Debilitating your foe, either by poison or by crippling their limbs, makes any follow-up combat you need to engage in that much simpler."
Her smile widened as he spoke. Judging from the look on his face, it was a topic he enjoyed. It was interesting to see him discuss something he took so seriously. Feeling like she should indulge him since it seemed so important, she dropped her head on her knees and settled in to have an actual conversation.
"That sounds like it could be useful."
He gave a nod, his face lit with enjoyment. "See? Getting paid for the art is beside the point. An assassin is more a tactical choice then a lifestyle." He rubbed his chin a moment and then let out a laugh. "Of course, the Crows like to pretend that their abilities are trade secrets, shrouded in shadows and wrapped in a blanket of mystery. So let's just keep this between you and me, shall we?"
She smiled again and gave a nod. "I could probably do that." Sitting in silence a few moments, she finally pushed herself from the ground, and waited as he did the same.
"Thank you."
"Hmm?" He glanced over to her, his brow raised in question.
"For helping me to relax. I appreciate the distraction." Her mind flitted back to an earlier statement, and she stopped to look up at him. "You should know though, I am not going to sleep with you."
"My dear Warden, you should never say never about such things. It only makes the challenge more interesting."
She shook her head. "I am fairly certain about this."
"Ah, fairly certain means you are not completely certain, yes? I can work with that." Turning, he did not wait for her answer before heading back to the clearing.