Title: The Point of No Return

Characters: Zevran, f!Amell

Rating: M

Summary: Zevran decides between Taliesin and the Warden.

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age or any of its characters.

The feeling of the warm sun on her face told her that morning had finally arrived. She turned over slowly, already dreading what she would find. Sure enough, Zevran's side of the bed was still cold and empty. Fear coiled in her stomach like a snake, and she sat up feeling more than a little worried. He had said that he intended to track down Taliesin; had he found him? And if so, what exactly had happened during that encounter? She fumbled with her robes, hands trembling and head throbbing with the beginnings of a headache. Just as she reached for her staff, the door opened and a rather tired-looking elf glided in the room. A quick appraisal showed no sign of injury, and she threw herself in his arms with relief.

"Maker, Zev! I've been so worried... " She burrowed happily into his chest, feeling for his heartbeat, needing to know he was still alive. His arms wrapped around hers, his fingers brushing her hair from her anxious face.

"Ah, mi querida. I apologize for not returning sooner and causing you so much concern. I spent most of the night attempting to find our Crow friend, but was unsuccessful. He can be quite clever when he wants to go to ground." He gently lifted her chin with one finger to look into her eyes. "Is something wrong?"

"No... I was just anxious when you didn't return. You said most of the night. What did you do the rest of the time?" Her eyes searched his amber ones questioningly, but they became guarded, and his usual mask dropped into place.

"I was simply... taking some time to think." He looked away. "Events have been occurring rather fast recently, no?" He sounded distracted, but before Emberlin could inquire further, a knock sounded at the door. Alistair entered, looking somewhat harried.

"Hey, are you two ready to go to the Gnawed Noble?" They had agreed yesterday to go to Denerim's tavern to get a feel for how the nobles would vote in the Landsmeet.

"Sure, I'm ready, Alistair. Zev, if you want to stay here and get some rest, that's fine." She touched his arm with concern.

"And miss all the fun to be had drinking and conversing with the Ferelden nobility?" Zevran's usual flippant demeanor had returned with Alistair's presence. "Surely you need my persuasive abilities to further your cause?"

Alistair groaned. "Please tell me you won't be flirting with the nobles. That's the last thing we need." Emberlin stifled a laugh while Zevran pouted.

"I am hurt that you don't trust me, my dear Alistair. Unless you are jealous that I may direct my attentions to someone other than you?" He winked at the warrior, who hid his blushing face in his hand.

Emberlin laughed and nudged the assassin. "Okay, quit pestering poor Alistair. Let's go mingle with the upper class and get some votes, shall we?" She glanced at the Antivan as they left the room, still feeling worried. That damnable mask was back in place, showing no trace of the uncertainty he had displayed earlier. What had he been thinking about? She promised herself that they would continue the conversation later.

#####

Wynne decided to accompany them, hoping for a chance to see some acquaintances among the nobility. Emberlin was thrilled to hear that she knew some of them; perhaps the older mage could influence their decisions. It was a stunning spring day, warm and sunny, and she felt her headache easing along with her spirits. As they walked through the streets of Denerim, she smiled at the children running between the houses. Alistair also grinned at their laughter and watched them disappear around the corner chasing a ball.

"Now this is what we have been working so hard for, isn't it? A chance for these people to continue living their lives, happy and safe from darkspawn."

"A pretty picture to be sure," commented Zevran thoughtfully. "However, we must remember that not all people are happy, even without the darkspawn. There are many injustices in this world that occur every day. But at least we shall ensure that they shall continue, no?" He chuckled darkly, and Emberlin gave him a quick look. She had never forgotten their conversations about growing up in a cage, and she doubted Zevran had either.

"We can only fight one thing at a time, Zevran," said Alistair. "And hope that we can survive to fight again." He fell silent, looking around as they entered a quiet alley. Emberlin noticed that Zevran was also watchful, his gaze quickly scanning the shadows and nearby buildings. He had seemed distracted since they had left the Arl's estate. Was he expecting something? Then they turned a corner, and there he was-Taliesin. She recognized his arrogant stance easily. He stood alone at the top of a stone staircase, with arms crossed as if he had known they would come this way. He barely glanced at her this time; his eyes fastened instead on Zevran. The assassin stood quietly, meeting the burning gaze directed at him with his usual blank look. He appeared quite calm, but Emberlin knew him well enough to know he was tense. Taliesin turned his focus back to the mage.

"Greetings Warden, we meet again. It seems this time you bring that which I seek. Thank you for your cooperation." He leered at her and turned to face Zevran again, dismissing her from his attention. "I had to see it to believe it. The great Zevran Arainai traveling with Grey Wardens, the very marks he was supposed to kill." His eyes narrowed.

"Well, now you've seen me, Taliesin." Zevran had stepped forward to stand slightly in front of Emberlin. She watched him nervously, wondering exactly what was happening here. It was obvious that the two Crows were more than a little familiar with each other.

"Indeed," replied the tall human. He raised his eyebrows and inclined his head toward Emberlin. "Tell me why, Zevran. Is she a good replacement for Rinna? Does she warm your bed better than a whore? I admit she's quite striking in a way, but is she really worth drawing the wrath of the Masters?"

Fury washed over Emberlin like a wave of lava. She looked again towards her lover, waiting for his response. To her surprise, he made no move and no expression showed on his face. But his next words were hard and smooth, like a shard of ice.

"What I do, I do for my own reasons. You are not my Master, and I do not answer to you." She saw a small muscle in his jaw tighten, though outwardly, he was still calm.

Taliesin shook his head and spread his hands, taking two steps down the stairs toward Zevran. "Zevran, come back with me. You don't belong here in this backwoods country, with their rustic buildings and wet dogs. We can make up a story for the Guild. They will take you back; you were one of the best. Maker, you were headed to the top! Give it a few years, and you will be your own Master. Return with me and we shall kill by day and take our pleasures at night, just like we used to do." His eyes gleamed with a heated intensity.

"After we complete our contract, of course?" Zevran raised his eyebrows.

Taliesin laughed roughly. "Well, of course! It will hardly be difficult with you at my side." He smiled victoriously, obviously feeling he had succeeded.

Emberlin heard the faint clink of Alistair's armor as he shifted behind her, probably getting ready to defend them if necessary. She stood frozen in place, her eyes rooted to Zevran's face. Her entire world had shrunk to this dark alley, and she forgot everyone except Taliesin, Zevran, and herself. Everything Zevran and she had shared, everything they had gone through together, all of it trickled down to this one moment. She wanted to speak, to plead, anything except what she was doing, which was to stand there helplessly. She kept remembering the closed look he had given her that morning, when he said he had taken some time to think. Was whatever he had with Taliesin stronger than what he shared with her? Was he going to leave? She knew, with a sinking, despairing feeling in her heart, that if he left, she could not stop him. She loved him enough to let him make his own choice. She realized that her only regret was that she had not taken the opportunity to tell him how she truly felt.

All eyes were locked on Zevran. Even Wynne had no advice to offer. The elf looked at Taliesin for several moments, his face completely unreadable. Finally, he lifted his chin and spoke calmly.

"I'm afraid that I will not be at your side, Taliesin. I am not the Zevran you once knew, and you... are not what I need. I'm afraid that you should never have left Antiva, mi amigo." As Emberlin stood stunned, flooded with too many emotions to think clearly, Zevran smoothly drew his daggers and took a protective stance in front of her. His eyes narrowed dangerously at the other Crow. She heard a sigh of relief behind her and the sound of a sword being drawn. Taliesin stood quietly for just a moment, his eyes filling with fury and malice. Then, with his eyes never leaving Zevran, he raised his hand, and the alley erupted with the sounds of battle.

Emberlin finally emerged from her stupor and drew her staff. Crows were surrounding them, flanked by archers near the wall and at the top of the stairs. She pushed every emotion out of her mind and focused on paralyzing and disorienting as many of the enemy rogues as possible. Alistair was yelling battle cries while Zevran silently darted in and out of the fray, performing his deadly dance of attack. Wynne stood behind them, healing spells flowing out to them all. Emberlin turned to the archers and created a blizzard storm over their heads, then a grease spell to knock them off their feet a second time. Wynne cried out for help as rogues surrounded her, hemming her in and distracting her healing. Alistair and Zevran ran to her and began dispatching the Crows as quickly as possible. Momentarily distracted by the other mage's plight, Emberlin failed to notice a rogue rushing at her until the last moment. She ducked to avoid a blow and the rogue threw himself on her, slamming the hilt of his dagger against her head. Overwhelmed with pain and dizziness, she felt him tear her staff from her hand. When she opened her eyes, she found herself staring up into the burning, poisonous eyes of Taliesin. He spit in her face.

"So, you think he loves you, Warden? Trust me, you don't know him nearly as well as I do. He's incapable of love, you see. He's been trained as a Crow, and he's the best. You've been played for a fool, Warden, and it's time to pay the price." His eyes glowed with victory, and he raised the dagger above her heart. Suddenly, there was a blur as a boot kicked the dagger away, and a strong, tanned hand grabbed Taliesin's hair from behind. Within only a second, the human's head was yanked back, a dagger at his throat. Zevran's voice was so cold and full of menace, it made her shiver. Never had her lover seemed more dangerous.

"You asked me, my old friend, if she is worth it. Well I tell you, she is worth more than even the smallest scrap of my life... or yours. And you will never soil her air with your insults again." The dagger sliced deep, and blood spurted as Zevran threw Taliesin's body to the side. The rogue convulsed several times, the ground beneath him running red, and then went still. Zevran simply looked at him with contempt, and then turned to kneel at her side.

"My dear, how badly are you injured?" His hands ran swiftly over her robes, seeking for signs of blood.

She sat up slowly, rubbing her head. "I think my ego is more injured than anything else. I feel stupid for allowing him to catch me unaware." He offered his hand and pulled her to her feet. She looked around to see Alistair and Wynne looting the bodies. "Wow, we killed all the Crows already?"

Zevran grinned, looking more like his old self. "What are a few Crows compared to us? We are professionals, are we not? Even our young warrior has improved nicely, except for that persistent smell of cheese... "

"Hey! I heard that!" Alistair approached them, carefully avoiding Taliesin's body. "Er... sorry about your friend, Zev."

Zevran barely glanced at the fallen Crow. "Actually, Alistair, Crows don't have friends. They can't trust anyone enough to make any."

Alistair hesitated briefly, then reached out to rest his hand on the elf's shoulder. "Well, I think that you might be the exception to that rule. You do have friends, here with us."

The assassin lifted his eyes to meet Alistair's gaze. No words were spoken, but he reached up and clasped the warrior's forearm in a tight grip. Fighting back tears, Emberlin laid her hand on top of his. Then Wynne was there too, her hand joining theirs, her smile encompassing the entire group. For that brief moment, past jokes and grievances were forgotten, and nothing else mattered except that they were together.

#####

Later that evening, Emberlin lay quietly on her bed staring at the wooden beams across the ceiling. They had succeeded in winning some of the nobles to their cause, but others were solidly behind Loghain. She had no clue what was going to happen tomorrow in the Landsmeet. To be honest, she had been rather distracted at the tavern, which was understandable considering they had gone straight there after the battle with the Crows. Wynne had been very understanding and told her to go relax in the corner while the rest of them mingled, but she had refused. All of them were shaken up; who was she to stand by while they worked? Nevertheless, she had been extremely relieved to finally return to Eamon's estate. She had hoped to be able to pull Zevran to their room and talk to him, but he had disappeared again shortly after their return. She assumed he was hiding out somewhere thinking again, and she was not going to be the one to go looking for him. Let him come to her when he was ready. By now, she understood him enough to know that he would talk only when he was in the mood.

Just when she had resigned herself to another sleepless lonely night in her bed, the door opened, and Zevran entered. He moved fluidly to the bed and sat down beside her, his mask in place as always. She felt a brief moment of fear, but then he reached out and stroked her hair from her face, and she relaxed into the familiar endearing caress.

"Does your head still hurt, my Warden?" She listened carefully to his tone but heard only concern.

"It's better now, although talking to all those nobles didn't exactly help it." She smiled and laid her hand over his. "Zev... " She bit her lip. "Is now a good time for us to talk?" She would not push him if he was feeling skittish, but things needed settled. She wanted answers, especially now when they were so close to the end.

He brushed her abused lip gently with his thumb. "Actually... yes. I have some things I wish to say." Surprised, she stared up at him mutely, and then nodded her head for him to continue.

"Taliesin is dead, which opens new possibilities for me. The Crows will assume, for a while at least, that I am dead also. They will stop searching for me, which means that I finally have what I wished for-freedom. It is probably only temporary, until one of them sees me somewhere, but I think that I shall be safe for a significant amount of time." He looked away towards the window. "I could leave... go somewhere far from Antiva."

Her heart stopped. No, please, no.

"Or... I can stay here if I'm wanted." He turned his face back to hers, eyes burning with a familiar intensity that made her entire body ache for him. She reached out with both hands, cupping his face between them.

"Zev... of course, you are wanted. Did you not hear what Alistair said today?"

He smiled in remembrance. "Well, as handsome as Alistair is, it isn't his desire I'm looking for."

Tears burned her eyes, and she blinked quickly to dispel them. "I want you with me, Zev. Please."

He sat back with a smile that she swore looked relieved. "Then it's settled! I couldn't possibly miss the final battle, after all." He fumbled with the pouch on his belt. "If it's okay with you, I would like to give you something." He opened his hand to reveal a gold earring, beautifully crafted with emeralds. "You helped me against Taliesin, and that... meant a lot to me. I would like you to have this earring. I took it off my very first mark, as a symbol of my accomplishment, and I've had it ever since. The merchant I took it from was quite handsome, but his beauty was nothing compared to yours. Please, take it."

It was the first time he had ever offered her a gift. She stared at the beautiful piece of jewelry in wonder. "Is it... is it a token of your affection?" She knew she was treading dangerous waters now, asking him about feelings. But it was past time they discussed this; she needed to know.

He looked down at the earring. "What do I know of affection? It has meant a great deal to me, as have... " He blew out a sigh of frustration. "Just take it, please?"

There was a long silence. He was looking at her pleadingly, which was why it broke her heart to say what she did. "I can't, Zevran. I'm sorry, but I can't accept it as only a thank you."

Fury clouded his eyes, and his mouth set in a grim line. He closed his palm and thrust the earring back in his pouch. "After all the trinkets we have picked up, and you can't accept this? Very well." He stood quickly and had almost reached the door before she spoke.

"Zevran, STOP." Her voice was strong and held a note of command she had never used with him. He paused, his hand on the door latch, his back still towards her.

"You will not walk out of here until I explain why I am refusing it. You will listen to me, you stubborn Antivan." She rose and went to stand behind him. "Do you think I don't know how you were trained? How you were taught to bury every sentimental feeling in a secret chest and throw away the key? Do you think I don't understand how difficult it is for you to express your true feelings? But you are not without feelings, Zevran Arainai! I know this; I have seen it. I have seen it in your eyes, in the way you look at me, in the way you touch me, in the way you protect me in battle. You hide your emotions behind a mask because you think they make you weak." She shook her head fiercely. "You are not weak, far from it. You are the strongest person I have ever met, Zev. When you realize this, when you start to believe in yourself and in us, then and only then, can I accept your gift."

For a moment, he stood completely still. Then he grabbed her shoulders and shoved her against the wall. His eyes were very bright, but most importantly, the mask was gone. Every line in his face was etched in agony, his eyes burned so hot that her skin felt like it was burning.

"You wish to know how I feel? Truly?" He hissed, pushing her harder against the wall. "When another man looks at you, I want to cut him with my dagger. Whenever those idiot nobles speak to you like you are of no consequence, I want to leave them dead in your wake. My skin burns hotter than the Antivan sun every time you look at me. When you touch me, I am lost in the very essence of you. When I taste you, it is sweeter than the rarest chocolat. When I'm inside you... " He closed his eyes, breathing raggedly. "When I'm inside you, I am home." Suddenly drained of his anger, he leaned his forehead against her shoulder. "Once I wanted to die, but now I want to live... but only if you are beside me," he whispered.

Tears streamed down her face like a cleansing spring rain. Her heart was raw, ripped bare, and refilled with the intensity of his words. Her throat swelled with the need to swallow, but she couldn't swallow, couldn't speak. Gently, she placed her hands against his face and raised it so she could look in his eyes. He was breathing hard, and his hands still gripped her shoulders as if he were afraid to let go. His gaze was stripped wide open, the echoes of his words reflected in their amber depths. Her fingers slowly traced the tattoo on his cheek, and he closed his eyes, leaning into her touch. She drew her lips to his, and very gently, she kissed him.

"I love you, Zevran Arainai," she whispered. A tremor ran through his body at her words, and then his lips were crushing hers, bruising her mouth with his need. Slender, calloused hands weaved into her hair and fisted possessively, drawing her closer. With a strangled moan, she leaned into him, clutching the armor he still wore. Gasping, he drew away and before she could even move, he had swept her into his arms and carried her to the bed. As he laid her down, she wrapped her hand around his neck pulling him back into a passionate kiss. Maker, but she had never had so much need of him. She tore at the buckles of his armor in frustration, and he stood quickly and deftly removed the top and pants. She yanked at her robes, shoving them aside, and then he was on top of her, lips pressed against her neck as she tilted her head back for him. Her hands trailed slowly down his smooth back and clenched his muscular buttocks, pulling his pelvis against hers. She moaned as his hardness brushed against her thigh, and he growled against her neck in response. Her back arched, and he latched onto her swollen nipple, sucking and biting as her hands buried into his silky hair.

She cried out and wrapped her legs desperately around his waist. This could not be a gentle lovemaking; their need was too great, their hearts too raw. He shifted only slightly and slid into her wetness with a strangled moan. For a brief moment, he held himself still, his forehead against hers.

"Look at me, querida. Look at me while I show you how I feel." His voice was hoarse, accent thick with emotion. His eyes never leaving hers, he began to move, filling her completely, again and again. His blond hair swayed about his face with each thrust, his eyes filled with a golden fire that burned hot. She moaned in pleasure, struggling to keep her eyes open and focused on his. Smooth skin slid against her wetness, and she could feel him swelling harder inside her. Heat coiled low in her belly, expanding with each thrust, and she clenched her muscles around him with every brush against her sensitive spot. His breathing was uneven now, and his hands held her head firmly, not allowing her to look away.

"Mi amor... tu es mi vida... soy tuyo... mi Ember... " His rhythm began to unravel, hips jerking against hers as they spiraled upward, and he was carrying her beyond the stars. She moaned, and he swelled inside, pulsing his essence deep within, crying out her name. His eyes closed at last, lost in ecstasy, and he sank his teeth deep into her shoulder as his body shuddered. She exploded, back arching against him, fingernails scrabbling at his back. Her entire world was right here, she would never need anything or anyone except him. For a while, they both drifted, lost to everything except each other. He rolled to his side, pulling her flush against him, her head resting next to his chest. Her heart was almost too full to speak, but there was something else she had to say.

"Zev?"

"Si, mi amor?"

"Um... I would really love to have that earring now." She tried to suppress a giggle, but it bubbled up anyway.

He laughed. "Hmmm... now she wants it." He leaned over the bed to retrieve his pouch and then returned with the jewelry. "And here I was certain you didn't like it." He held it above her head just out of reach, teasing her with a grin. She made a mock grab for it, and then glared at him.

"It's because I want to wear it so that everyone will know I'm yours." His smile faded, and that intensity returned to his eyes.

"In that case, I shall put it in, now." He stood quickly and walked over to the bag where he kept his supplies. She watched his very sexy backside as he leaned over and felt that she could definitely go for a second session. He turned back holding a small leather case and noticed her gaze. Chuckling softly, he sat beside her and withdrew a very sharp needle from the case.

"So impatient for more already? But first, the earring." He reached out and stroked her earlobe between his thumb and forefinger. "This will hurt some, mi querida."

She nodded her understanding. "I know." He continued to massage the earlobe gently, studying it. Then, so very fast, she felt a sharp pain followed by a heated ache and the feel of her blood trickling from the pierced flesh. He wiped it with a soft cloth, and then she felt another lesser sting as he slid the earring in. There was a little more wiping, and then he set aside the case. Taking her hand, he pulled her to her feet and walked her to the nearby mirror, situating her in front of him.

"It is perfect for you, my Warden. The emeralds bring out the green fire in your eyes." She looked at the earring in the reflection, fingering it gingerly. Her eyes met Zevran's in the mirror, and she could see his desire as his gaze raked down over her body's image in the mirror. Grinning slyly, she turned to face him and pushed him back towards the bed.

"And now that I'm marked as yours, what mark of mine shall you wear, my beautiful assassin?" He lay back on the bed, and she crawled on top of him, deliberately brushing against his length.

"Ahh... whatever mark you choose, mi amor." He slowly bucked his hips upward, grinding against her pelvis, and she gasped.

"I think I'll have to decide that later, since you are quite distracting me at the moment." He laughed and pulled her into a deep kiss. The fire cast flickering shadows on their bare skin, its heat unheeded as they created their own.

You see everything, you see every part

You see all my light, and you love my dark

You dig everything of which I'm ashamed

There's not anything to which you can't relate

And you're still here.

Alanis Morrisette, "Everything"

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