Chapter Eleven
"Ten-Ten! Mummy Ten-Ten! You're here!" Two bright-eyed, tow-headed little children squealed for the Warden when they approached the keep's sturdy wooden gates.
Zevran smiled as they crawled out from under the gate as soon as it was lifted high enough for them. Terri scrambled after them, and the Warden sat her pack down at the assassin's feet and pulled off her gloves as the toddlers rushed for her.
"Kayla! Darren! I missed you so much!" Tenniel scooped up her children and held one in each arm as they took turns kissing her cheeks. She sat down with them and they immediately tried to fill her in on the events of the past few weeks.
"We were 'fraid we weren't gonna see you no more!" Darren exclaimed as she ran her hands through his short hair.
"Yeah! But Jenny-bird found you yesterday and… and we drew something for you! You gotta come see it!" Kayla was jumping with excitement even as her mother tried to hold her close.
"Did you fight a lot of monsters?" The boy reached out to tentatively touch the pommel of The Green Blade.
"Who's that? Is he your sweetheart?" Kayla tugged on her ponytail and smiled shyly when she noticed Zevran looking at Tenniel. "He's pretty!" She whispered loudly into her mother's ear and giggled mischievously.
Her mother couldn't help but giggle in return. Zevran watched the three of them smiling and laughing and showing their dimples in a touching display of blissful family togetherness. He had never seen his Warden look so genuinely happy before. Once again, he felt an odd feeling stirring inside of him, and he finally realized that it made him happy to see her enjoying herself. Careful, Zevran.
Tenniel noticed the crumbs on their faces and poked their bellies playfully. "Have you been eating cookies again? Oh, for the love of the Maker, you two adorable pups are so full of energy! Let's go inside and chat, okay? And yes, Darren, I did fight a lot of monsters. Both of you, this is Zevran. He's my sweetheart and he fights with me, Kayla."
"Hi, Zev-Ron!" The children yelled to him in a sing-song voice, as if he was far across the yard instead of right next to them.
"Let's go get Dada!" The rambunctious children, clad in their wolf-pelt coats chased Terri back through the gate and across a grassy field where a few goats and some pack-mules were lounging about next to several ballista. The Warden and Zevran followed, and the man that had opened the gate for them immediately reached for her backpack.
"It's good to see you again, Lady Tenniel. Welcome home."
"Thank you, Wilton. It's good to see you as well. Did Melissa…?" She tried in vain to grab her pack again, but he shooed her hands away.
"Yes, my lady. We are both here. And she's expecting again. Nothing will replace little Jonah, but… ah, no need to talk about that. We all lost someone in that tragedy at the castle. The Howes have much to pay for."
"Aye, and they will. You have my word on that," she assured him." This is Zevran. He will be staying with me in the cottage, so please show him around while I meet up with Walter and Regina."
"My lady! Are you… sure? We have… other visitors." The red-haired servant pointed to the stables and seemed quite surprised at the news that she and this warrior-elf would be staying in the same quarters together.
"Yes, quite sure, Wilton. I am a Grey Warden now. I no longer have the patience or the stomach for worrying about what is proper for someone of my title. Please, treat him with the same courtesy as you would me. He is a dear friend." Tenniel reached for her assassin's hand and squeezed his fingers, hoping that he would not object to anything she said.
"Yes, my lady. Certainly. Your pack will be waiting for you at the cottage."
"Thank you. And Zevran, please check things out and join me in the kitchen as soon as you're settled in, okay?"
He nodded once to signify he knew exactly what she meant by check things out. "Of course, my dear Warden. I shall meet with you soon." He squeezed her hand in return and the two parted ways.
Wilton showed Zevran the various parts of the keep before finally heading towards a cottage closest to the mountainside. "Here you are, ser. And here are keys for you and the lady. We were able to er... salvage a lot of things from the castle after the bulk of Howe's guards left. We transferred many of her personal effects from the storage closet in the main keep to this building yesterday."
"No need to call me ser. And I am sure the lady would agree that her family's goods are better off in your hands than her parent's killers."
"Yes, well, most of Highever's freeholders looted the castle after that bastard had the audacity to string the Teyrn and Teyrna up from the front gates. And now there are a lot of refugees housed there. That place is in a state of disarray, I'm afraid. But we're fine up here in the mountains."
"Good to hear. Might I ask where the visitors have gathered?" He asked as the bearded man headed out through the thick pinewood door.
"They're in the main hall, ser, ah Zevran. Are you from the Free Marches?"
"No, I am from Antiva."
"Ahh! Is it true it's always warm in your country? My Melissa always wanted to go someplace where it's warm…"
"Yes, it is true. Antiva never gets cold like it does here in Ferelden. Although it seems surprisingly warm enough up here."
"Hmmm, yes. Well, Ser Walter can explain all that to you if you're interested. And you're quite lucky, to have won the lady's heart, if you don't mind me saying so. There are a couple of her former suitors here who might be a bit suspicious, but if Lady Tenniel's chosen you, you're alright by me. If you need anything, just send for me, or else Roderick and Emily – they're the elven couple. We stay in the two apartments above the stable." The man closed the door and left Zevran to his thoughts.
Chosen me? Ah well, there's no better way to ascertain the character of a noblewoman than to find out her servants' opinion of her. The assassin unpacked his things and explored the cottage. Despite the fact that there was no fire burning in the fireplace, the building felt quite comfortable. He bent down to touch the flagstone floor and it was warm to the touch.
The cottage held several closets and chests in the bedroom and two couches in the sitting area near the fireplace. There was even a separate kitchen area with a small dining table. All of the furnishings were made of the same warm and cheerful pinewood, with cushions and quilts adorned in blue and green wool.
He went back into the bedroom and through a narrow door to find a large stone bathtub. These barbarians have a water pump up here in the mountains? How very lucky, to get a hot bath two days in a row. He remembered how Rinna used to berate him for always insisting on a hot bath...
It starts to rain again, but the flowers are in bloom and the quick showers are always a welcome reprieve from the hot noonday sun. The Crow had collected his payment after successfully stopping some witness who was supposed to testify against some lying merchant prince. Taliesen had dodged a second too late and received an arrow to his backside, but by the time the witness's armed escort had finally realized the Crows were there, they had permanently silenced the man. So Zevran had reported back to Master Varkel while Taliesen limped off to find a healer. The assassin laughs aloud as he remembers his partner's pained expression. He would definitely have to tease him about that for a few weeks.
Zevran is glad to have a day or two to rest before their next mission. No matter how many palaces and grand estates he is able to stay in as a caged pet of whatever random nobleman who was hiring their services that particular week, there is always something about coming home to this neighborhood and his own ramshackle apartment with the smell of leather permeating the air that lifts his spirits. Luxuries like indoor plumbing and silk sheets aside, he can never truly relax in someone else's house. He starts flirting with one of the buxom flower girls who is busy trying to push her cart underneath an awning as the rain falls even harder.
"Zevran, darling! You'd better hurry home. I saw your little sweetheart head this way a few minutes ago. You don't want to make her wait, now do you?"
"Sweetheart? Nonsense, no one is as sweet as you, my dear Malia."
"Mmmhmm. You'd better take some of these roses. She looked a bit upset. You know, she was here looking for you yesterday, too."
"Was she now? Well, that won't do. I must encourage her not to develop such bad habits, eh?" He grabs the flowers from her and steals a kiss from the flower girl's pouty lips before she can protest.
"Oh, you're such a rascal! Get out of here, shoo, you!" Malia is used to his antics. Zevran helped fend off some unwanted suitors for her a few years ago, and she is forever a loyal friend.
The assassin heads towards his apartment and takes the rickety stairs two at a time, stopping briefly to press a few coppers into the hand of a street urchin who already has his buckets ready.
"Another hot bath for you soon, señor Arainai!"
Rinna is waiting for him at the top of the stairs, glowering at him with her arms crossed. "I can't believe you actually spend your allowance on such trivialities. It's as if you can't go one day without a hot bath, even when it's this warm outside!"
"Hahahaha! Spare me the lecture, beautiful one. Though you do get this delicious little groove between your eyes when you are cross." He pokes her forehead with the tip of his index finger before she can block him and he loves watching her eyes light up as he presents the red and pink roses to her from behind his back. "And good day to you. What brings you here so early? Aren't you supposed to be reporting to Master Varkel today?"
"Yes, well, he just said today. Not exactly when today. I'll get there before it's dark." She replies with a huff.
"Tsk, tsk. You should know better than to tempt fate. Have you forgotten the feel of his whip so soon, my dear?" He looks her up and down, staring at her luridly as he unlocks the door to his apartment.
She scowls again and rolls her eyes. "He's just another stupid fucking shem with a mean streak, I don't care if he is a master or not."
Zevran has heard enough. He grabs her by the arm and pulls her inside, almost a little too roughly. "What is the matter with you, girl? Do you have a death wish? You cannot say things like this. Remember, you are a Crow, above all else. Just because Taliesen and I have vouched for you - that you are ready to go on higher-ranking missions with us - does not mean you can afford to be sloppy. Your life is in Varkel's hands."
"I am not being sloppy! It's just… Zevran, don't you ever get tired of it sometimes? Always having to listen to what they say, having to follow all their rules? These Makers-damned shem just take, and take, and they dictate everything! I am so sick of hearing what I'm allowed to do and not do, what I'm allowed to feel."
"Is that why you're disfiguring the corpses of the men you've been forced to seduce?" He asked. It was his turn to cross his arms. Her silence was all the confirmation he needed. "Rinna! Some of the clean-up crew is already whispering about it. If I could tell you were the one doing this, how long do you think it will take before the Masters find out?"
"I know this! And I don't need to hear it from you. But I swear, if I have to bend over for one more…"
"Enough! We have ALL had to endure doing things we hate. But endure we must."
"Zevran, I…" She reaches for him, and he holds onto her and lets her rest against his chest. Rinna often leans against him and clenches her jaw after a particularly tough assignment, never allowing herself to be weak enough to shed a tear. Zevran can only admire her all the more for it; that this tiny woman would so often come to him bruised, battered and cut and only want to be held like this.
"Nothing lasts forever, my sweet; and that includes pain. You will get past this. And then you can start going on missions with Taliesen and I. We won't force you into the role of the unwilling seductress. I know you have many other skills." He smoothes her hair and stares at the bare walls of his apartment until he hears a soft knock at his door.
"Señor Arainai!"
"Yes, yes, come in." He watches as the street urchin and his three friends trudge in and begin emptying buckets of hot water into his metal tub.
He bathes both himself and her that night, relaxing their tired muscles and easing their spirits with the scent of roses on the water. Zevran even gives her a gentle massage afterward. She is silent the entire time, but her smile is all the reward he needs.
The former Crow freshened up and changed into regular clothes, glad to get out of his slightly heavier new armor. He crept across the yard, through the dining hall and into the threshold of the main meeting room where he listened in on various conversations for several minutes.
Seven human men, two elves and one female knight all sat around a large round table, discussing current events, how many darkspawn had been spotted, and arguing over how many refugees this or that bann had to contend with. Zevran was still blending in with the shadows, and so far not even the usually attentive mabari hounds had any idea he was amongst them. He tread closer to listen in on one human in silverite mail who seemed to be conversing with an Orlesian about trade and what Lady Tenniel needed to do about it.
"Well, now that we know she's alive, we don't have to follow anything that imposter teyrn says. All of his taxes are insanely high, but that no-good Howe doesn't even have enough collectors to enforce anything. And if we get her to sign this trade agreement as acting teyrn, it won't matter what he says." The man had short, curly brown hair and blue eyes. Zevran had to admit he was a rather handsome fellow.
"A good plan, mon ami. I knew there was a reason why the Arl asked me travel to this barbaric mountainous retreat, hahaha! And the Lady Tenniel, ahhh… I cannot wait to gaze upon her gorgeous physique once again. I had better try to snap her up now, before the suitors line up to have their try at her hand. Now that she's acting Teyrna, she's even more of a delicious morsel, no?" The man with the Orlesian accent and rugged good looks had long black hair and a short goatee. Definitely beddable.
"Ha! You won't be getting a taste of her, so don't get your hopes up, Marcel. I have it on good authority that she can't abide by men with thick accents. So much for you and all your fancy schooling in Orlais! But I don't think she likes men that can't best her at hand-to-hand combat, either. Hmmm… perhaps that's why she hasn't taken any of us to her bed yet."
"Now you're teasing! Perhaps we should ask the lady herself?"
Zevran chose that moment to reveal himself. "I can assure you, you are wrong on both accounts, ser knight."
"What impertinence! Who is this, Ser Timothy?" Marcel demanded an answer.
"I dunno! Announce yourself at once, intruder!" He yelled as he got up from his chair.
All eyes were on Zevran as he gave a mocking bow and laughed haughtily at the Fereldans gathered in the hall. "I could not resist, since you were discussing my beautiful Warden so openly."
"Your Warden! You travel with Tenniel?" A gruff-sounding man in heavy dragonbone plate mail sat up from the table and regarded the Antivan disdainfully.
"Yes indeed I do. And I can assure you, she is as lovely and deadly as ever." He laughed again and smirked at the scowls he received from some of the men.
Ser Timothy had heard enough. "Who the hell do you think you are? Are you smirking? I think you are smirking! How dare you mock us! Prepare to defend yourself!"
My, my, my… slow wits and a quick temper. Reminds me of Alistair. The assassin easily dodged the man's greatsword and spun around him, slicing through the leather straps of his pauldron with a flick of his dagger as the knight cursed vehemently. Tenniel's momentum training is paying off in spades…
"Stand still and face me, you coward!" Ser Timothy commanded, looking comical as he struggled to hold his shoulder armor together. Some of his friends shook their head in dismay and snickered at his predicament. The two elves stayed back against the wall on the far side of the table and eyed the impudent foreign elf apprehensively.
And now for my exit… Zevran added insult to injury by slicing the man's purse from his waist. He immediately disappeared, blending into the shadows again and laughing to himself as the men yelled 'Where'd the little bastard go?' and other outraged comments. He crept from the room and soon only heard the sound of dogs barking in the distance as he left the chaos behind and made his way towards the kitchen.