Chapter 11

AUTHOR'S NOTE: As I'm working on this fic I'm coming to love Fenris and Zevran even more! They're such deep, emotional characters I'm surprised I've never bothered to write about them before. And to think this is my first fic for this pairing. The storyline I came up with flows very smoothly I've hardly had to work at all beyond typing. O.o

DA ORIGINS

"Your name sounds similar to 'Howe'. Is he your namesake, perhaps?" Zevran asked out of the blue. Howl glanced up at the assassin, sitting on the floor brushing Shigure's short fur. The mabari barked, clearly annoyed at his master's attention being on anything else but him. Zevran thought it was funny how Howl's own dog was bigger than he was. Shigure got up, trying to climb into Howl's lap which had the mage yelping in surprise. Trying to push the huge hound away and get him to lay back on the floor.

"No, as a matter of- NO! Down, Shigure! Lay down! No, my mother actually named me after a wizard she read about in a book. At the time though I don't think she knew I was a mage." Howl said, managing to get the mabari to lie down. Shigure stubbornly laid his head in Howl's lap, pinning him there to the floor. Howl sighed, giving up on brushing the dog's fur as he scratched him behind the ears.

Zevran quirked a brow as he leaned forward from his seat. It had been two days after the ambush in the alleyway. Turned out Sten had been following them ever since they left the inn. Alistair had tagged along only because he claimed the Quanari had bullied him into it. Zevran didn't believe the bastard prince for a minute. He knew they were worried he was going to kill Howl. The only ones who didn't appear concerned were Morrigan and Shigure. Morrigan appeared to care less about the mage and Shigure loved anyone willing to give him a bone. So no worries there, at least.

"A book? You seem to be quite in love with stories, aren't you? I always see you with a novel in hand or writing a thought down. I believe you're what people call a 'bookworm', little Owl." Zevran teased, earning a shy smile from Howl. Shigure let out a low wuff and gave a slight growl. Howl hit the mabari lightly on the nose, efficiently shushing him as he ran his hand through the short hair.

"Well, my mother taught me my letters at a young age. She was very fond of this one novel, called Howl's Moving Castle. Howl was a wizard in the story who traveled around causing trouble. It was a common practice of his to make a young woman fall in love with him before he left her to pursue someone else." Howl said, wrinkling his nose at the memory. Zevran was surprised to hear of Howl's mother. He wondered if, like his, she was dead. Glancing at the mage he didn't think so. Howl had an odd look on his face as he gazed down at the mabari. Almost as if he was…sad.

"If you don't mind me asking, what exactly is a 'wizard'? Is it like a mage?" Zevran asked, deciding to try and steer the conversation onto kinder ground. Howl nodded, scratching Shigure in the spot that got his back leg thumping on the ground.

"A wizard is just another name for 'mage'. Howl eventually fell in love with a young woman who was cursed by the Witch of the Waste. She was turned into an old woman for a time and the Witch of the Waste was jealous of her because the young woman could do magic as well. But at the time she didn't know she was practicing magic." Howl explained. Fascinated, Zevran nodded as he listened. He had never bothered to crack open any sort of book in his life even though he too knew his letters. Perhaps when all this was over, he might read a novel?

"How was she practicing magic if she wasn't aware of it? Surely one is aware when casting spells?"

"She was a hat maker, you see. She ran this small hat shop and as she was making them she would talk to them. In that way she enchanted the hat and whoever wore it something would happen to that person. She told one hat it would marry money, and the woman who wore it married a rich man." Howl said, a small smile playing across his lips. Zevran chuckled, imagining if such enchantments existed. Everyone would probably travel from far and wide to obtain such a magical item.

"Ah, I see now. Your namesake fits you well, Howl. I can easily see you in a moving castle traveling the countryside. Broken hearts, however, I believe you're too kind for such a thing." Zevran said. Howl laughed at that, shaking his head as he finally managed to push the hound's head fully out of his lap. Sometime when they were talking Shigure had fallen into a dead sleep. Howl brushed loose fur off his robes, going to sit on the divan beside Zevran. The mage stretched out his legs, letting out a soft sigh of contentment as his knees popped.\

"Thanks, Zevran. In the Circle people use to ask me if I had the name because I howled at the full moon when I transformed into a werewolf." Howl said, shaking his head at the thought. Zevran smirked, shifting his body as he was facing the mage. Howl removed his glasses, rubbing his eyes with one hand as he yawned.

"Did your fellow mages ever dance under the light of the full moon, naked, and make love to each other? I heard of such rumors of this happening back in Antiva." Zevran, lowering his voice conspiratorially. Howl stopped to stare at the assassin, before shrugging as he put his glasses back on.

"Only the really good ones." Howl said, a smirk playing at the edge of his lips. Zevran narrowed his eyes at the reply. He had given the same one when Morrigan had asked him if all Antivan Crows sought to get themselves killed. Letting out a soft snort, he scooted closer to the small mage. Howl didn't move away, only giving Zevran a mischievous grin. Intrigued, he leaned forward with a smirk on his face.

"Were you one of them?" Zevran asked in a low, husky voice. Howl leaned forward as well, opening his mouth to reply. Instead of saying anything, however, he blew lightly into the assassin's face much to Zevran's surprise.

"You're just going to have to find out, aren't you?" Howl said with a laugh. Zevran scowled and shoved Howl off the couch who just continued laughing. Sitting on the floor Howl grinned up at him, resting his arms on the seat.

"You are quite the tease, my dear Warden. I suspect I may be a bad influence on you. Before, you would have simply blushed and hid behind one of your many books." Zevran said, cocking a brow at Howl. Howl shrugged his shoulders, fiddling with a loose thread on his robe as he talked.

"It's not that I'm remarkably shy, Zev, that I don't talk to people. It's just...I guess I don't know what to say. You know what I mean? After I left the circle I didn't know what a Qunari was or what the outside world looked like. Now I'm dealing with all these people from all these different walks of life and I don't know how to handle them. Do I smile? Wave? Shake their hand?" Howl said, pulling the thread free from his sleeve as he fiddled with it between his fingers. Zevran nodded as if he understood, and on a level he did. The Antivan Crows were in its own way a closed society outside of assassination and buying young recruits. He knew no other life other than the Crows, but for Howl? He had hardly ever seen the true light of day until he stepped out of the tower. He had heard him discussing with Alistair once whom didn't appear to comprehend what Howl was going through.

"I mean, I had to ask Alistair what a butterfly was! At the time I thought it was a magical piece of parchment just fluttering around. I called it a Parchment Flutterer." Howl said, with a roll of his eyes. This time Zevran's grin was genuine as he listened to the Warden. Such an innocent view of the world...he had never experienced it before. A distant memory of gazing at his mother's Dalish gloves flitted through his mind gave him pause. To be so naïve as to think a secret society existed where a person wasn't judged by their ears, race, or appearance. His expression hardened at the thought as his attitude turned sour as he got up from the couch to pour himself a goblet of wine. Innocence was nothing more than ignorance. Noticing his shift in mood Howl straightened up, standing so he could perch on the edge of the divan as he watched Zevran go across the room to retrieve a bottle of wine.

"Zevran? Are you mad at me?" Howl asked, his voice slightly shaky. Zevran paused, his back to Howl as he poured the sweet smelling vintage into a spare goblet. He closed his eyes, calming himself as he turned around with a smirk on his face. For a moment her face had entered his mind's eyes.

Rinna...

"No, my dear Warden, merely at society. Come, let us have toast! To life." Zevran said, pouring an extra goblet for Howl and handing him one. Howl accepted it with a confused look on his face, but raised his in salute as well as Zevran bumped their goblets together. Tipping back his head he drank the entire vintage in a few swallows. Howl attempted to copy him, but instead coughed and gagged when he felt the burning stuff going down his throat.

"I don't see how people can drink this. It's awful stuff!" Howl complained, giving his goblet back to Zevran. Zevran laughed, delighted by the thought Howl couldn't drink alcohol. It was so unexpected, for a moment he forgot why he was there. Why he had accepted the contract for the Grey Wardens in the first place and regretted spitting on the dark haired girl in his nightmares.

"An acquired taste, dear friend. It's an acquired taste." Zevran reassured him, taking the wine from him and drinking it himself. Howl wrinkled his nose as he shook his head at the thought.

"You're an acquired taste, Zev. Trust me." Howl pointed out. Zevran only laughed.

…...

Waves lapped peacefully at the sand as the full moon began to rise across from them. By the time Fenris and Isabela reached the beach the moon had just risen above the waves. Hanging in the sky as if uncertain whether it should travel higher or not. Fenris gazed at it, wondering if his sister had received his letter yet across the vast ocean. Merely thinking of a piece of parchment stained with ink reaching her seemed a daunting task faced with so much water. The ship could crash into rocks, or the parchment could be borne away on the wind...

"So what do you think of your new pet?" Isabela asked as she toed a seashell she had come across. Fenris furrowed his brow, drawn from his reverie as he glanced at the pirate captain.

"Pet? Zevran is my prisoner, nothing more. He has a certain knowledge I seek. Once our deal is fulfilled he is free to roam to wherever he wills it. I may even pay a ship to take him to his destination, if he happens to have one." Fenris answered, arms crossed. A cold wind picked up and lifted a few strands of his white hair. He wondered distractedly if Zevran knew there was a working water pump in the courtyard. One of the few reasons he had chosen to remain at the mansion. Other than a lack of having anywhere else to go.

"Sweet thing, Zevran is a temptress in male form. I've seen him charm many a stalwart soul. Even a few of my men found him attractive before he killed my husband. And mind you some of these were married men as well with mistresses in other ports." Isabela said, a sigh on her lips at the memory. She missed her band of merry of men before her ship had been destroyed in the storm.

"I take it Zevran is as free with is sexual endeavors as you are? No wonder you two are friends. You deserve each other." Fenris growled, remembering the advances of the other elf. He could not deny the golden haired elf had a certain charm about him that made one want to respond. The fact that he was another male as well made it even more confusing, but at the same time tempting. He knew some men enjoyed the company of other men. Such as Hawke and Anders, but thinking of such a union made him sick to his stomach. How did one even...? With each other?

Isabela let out a high pitched laugh, bending down to pick up her found shell. She turned it in her hands admiring the swirls on the shell. It was flat, as wide as the palm of her hand with circles around the edges. On top it was rough, but when she turned it over the inside was the color of silver and opal mixed together. She tucked it into a pocket, meaning to make a necklace of it for Merrill later. She enjoyed such beautiful, simple things.

"He killed my husband, Pet. While I am happy he inadvertently gave me a ship, our ties end there. Other than my grateful thank you which he kindly accepted before disappearing into the mists the very next morning. No, he will make you fall in love him first, most likely. I have seen him at work, Fenris. He'll have you eating out of the palm of your hand within the week." Isabela said airily as they walked down the beach.

Fenris narrowed his eyes at the thought. In his mind going over everything that had transpired between him and Zevran until the moment he left. True, he could understand Zevran trying to work his way into his good graces. Any captive in his situation would to ease the torment of being held against their will. Though, a tormented Zevran was hard to imagine even for Fenris. The other elf seemed so confident that he wouldn't be harmed by his captor it was unnerving. Or perhaps he was looking into the matter to deeply. Looking for signs that weren't there.

"I will not eat out of anyone's hand. Neither will I allow myself to be tricked in such a way. Zevran can pout and charm all he wants, but he will have to find his pleasures elsewhere." Fenris said, his tone growing hard the thought. It made him think of Danarius, being called his "little wolf". Isabela glanced at him, concern flitting over her face before her features smoothed over.

"I apologize, Pet. I didn't meet in that way. Zevran is a tricky bastard, I'll give him that. But despite it all he does have a good heart. One of the reasons I won't mention his presence to Hawke, if you were worried. While Zevran is open about what he wants from a person, he is subtle is bringing an enemy into his influence. So be careful with him, is all I'm saying." Isabela warned him, serious this time. She knew Zevran to be quite charming and flirtatious. His sarcastic remarks and beautiful complexion only added to the attraction he held for both sexes. She had often wondered why, at one point, Zevran had seemed about to settle down with a plain person like Howl. Zevran had always struck her as someone who would retire at an early age in some rich lord's harem as the prize mistress.

"I accept your apology, Isabela. How well do you know him? Your assassin?" Fenris asked, curious despite himself. He knew they had slept together, but by the way she talked they must have remained friends. Isabela gave him a secretive smirk, putting a finger to her lips.

"Let dead dogs lie, pet. He is your assassin now, by the way. I only ever knew of one person who owned him and they left him for a greater destiny. Why not ask him yourself? You will be pleasantly surprised by his answers." Isabela whispered conspiratorially, despite that there was not a soul to hear them for miles. Fenris rolled his eyes at her stupidity as they walked down the beach.

There was an illusion of peace outside of the city. He could pretend he wasn't being hunted by Danarius and was looking forward to a visit from his sister. He had sent her coin to come see him and felt a tightening in his belly at the thought. Did she have children? He may be...what was it? An uncle? To elven children who did not know the harsh realities of slavery. The mere idea of it had him walking on air and a deep burning guilt at the same time. Surely, Varania would not bring her own children along to meet a long lost relative. Maybe, if things went well, he would go back with her once he killed Danarius. Retire from his life as a Tevinter fugitive and live a restful existence making clothes.

"My assassin?" Fenris asked with quirked brow but Isabela pretended not to hear him. The thought of owning another person disgusted him. While Zevran was his prisoner, he certainly wasn't his in that sense. How could one own a person without one being master and the other a slave? The only thing Fenris could think of were two people joined by love, but that was a relationship. They were both equals, one did not overrule the other.

"Oh, it does have a nice ring to it, doesn't it? I should like my own assassin if I ever get the chance. They would be quite useful in dealing with those unsavory characters who cross me." Isabela replied, pouting her lips at the thought. Fenris furrowed his brow as he tried to make sense of her comment.

"You're an unsavory character. You cross me."

"Then send your deadly assassin after me."

"No thanks, I'll pass."

AUTHOR'S NOTE: A way of showing what Fenris thinks of Zevran. Not completely repulsed, intrigued if only slightly, and completely annoyed at hounding him to sleep with him. Though from a personal perspective I believe a lot of people would agree with Howl's earlier comment. Zevran is quite definitely an acquired taste and can cause a bunch of problems for you down the road. LOL