What is a self-proclaimed Dragon Age junkie doing – writing instead of playing Dragon Age II? Sadly, I was separated from my XBox all weekend. Darn that real life…

Chapter 11: On the road

Virae leaned against an oak tree at the edge of a large clearing and watched the two rogues circle each other slowly, each holding two practice daggers. Zevran was stripped to the waste, those hypnotic tattoos his only armor, and Leliana was dressed in her usual light armor. The bard lunged toward the assassin, who blocked both daggers with his own and twisted around to land a light blow to the bard's side. Leliana spun, aiming a kick at Zevran's thigh; he jumped nimbly out of the way, just as her dagger skimmed his shoulder.

Soon they were moving so fast that she could barely make out each individual maneuver, but the clear ring of metal on metal resonated through the clearing. With a gasp and thud, both of Leliana's daggers were suddenly thrown clear and Zevran had Leliana pinned to the ground.

"My lovely bard," Zevran drawled as he stood up with exaggerated reluctance, "it seems that after two years in the Chantry, you have forgotten how to handle a… dagger." The elf leered and offered her a hand up. "After all that time you must need some… release. I would be only too happy to assist…"

Leliana scowled at his hand and stood without his help, "Not if you were the last man in Thedas, Zevran."

The assassin shrugged and the two began circling each other again.

Virae chuckled. Zevran flirted outrageously with everyone in the party. He'd quickly given up on Sten, who gave no reaction at all, and Alistair who had turned bright red and drawn his sword. But he still delighted in teasing Leliana and antagonizing Morrigan with his obvious double entendre and sexual innuendo.

As for herself, she found Zevran's unsubtle suggestive banter to be humorous and entertaining. It reminded her of the time she spent in the Circle Tower as a teen apprentice, relaxing with peers. After that one incident with Cullen, none of the male mages or apprentices dared meet her at any of the usual private hiding places around the Tower, but that didn't stop them from flirting with her outrageously, especially if Cullen was nearby. She mused, how many different ways are there to compare a sword/dagger/staff to a phallus? With Zevran around, she might just find out.

The handsome elf was a deadly ally – not even Alistair could deny that. On that second day he was with them, only a few hours after she returned his weapons, they were attacked by a large group of darkspawn, and he had fought brilliantly. He appeared and disappeared next to the enemies engaged by Alistair or Sten, marking their weak points, and then would maneuver unseen to flank another darkspawn and deliver a lethal backstab. Zevran was still reluctant to teach his assassin skills to Lelianna, and she was reluctant to teach him her bard skills. But, he had agreed to help her improve her dual weapon technique, and Leliana had started teaching him to pick locks.

The sun came out from behind a cloud, and Zevran appeared to be momentarily blinded by the sunlight reflected off Leliana's practice dagger. She kicked his foot out from under him, and the two landed with another thud, but this time the bard was straddling the assassin and holding a blade to his throat.

Leliana smiled triumphantly, until Zevran chuckled and said, "This compromising position is quite comfortable, no?"

The bard was up in an instant, and they began circling again.

Virae turned away to hide her smile, and reached behind her to touch the handles of the two daggers sheathed next to her staff. She'd been carrying them ever since she freed the arcane warrior, but she still had only a rudimentary idea of how to use them. Watching the rogues spar had given her an idea.

Virae hurried across the field to the main camp to collect Caraid. The delicious aroma of roasting venison wafted from where Sten was presiding over the camp fire. She and Morrigan in wolf form, along with Caraid, had brought down a deer the night before. The cat form had been fun and interesting, but the wolf form felt completely natural - the wolf mind had such clarity and focus – and once she made the effort, the wolf instinct was easy to control. It was Alistair's turn to cook tonight, and even though she could keep the venison frozen with a periodic winter's breath spell, everyone was relieved when Sten insisted on roasting it tonight.

Virae called Caraid to her side and headed upstream from camp, the sounds of the two rogues' practice session fading behind her. She found a slightly secluded, small open area and positioned herself to meditate as usual, and began thinking of the Arcane Warrior's memories, like a chest in her mind. She had tried unsuccessfully to open it before, but this time she would try the ancient elven words to describe arcane warriors. She whispered "Vir mi", the way of the blade.

It was as if the lid of the chest opened and a tangle of hazy, indistinct thoughts were jumbled together before her. These memories were completely unlike her own. She wondered if this was the way other people remember, or if the memories were so disorganized and vague because the spirit had been separated from his body for so long and was nearly mad by the time she released him. Gradually she sorted through the top layer, and found bits and pieces of the knowledge the spirit had promised. She pulled together the fragments of the combat-magic spell that would allow her to channel her magic into physical strength, and use it to fight as a warrior.

Curious about what other memories were passed on to her by the spirit, she reached deeper into the chest. Her mind was flooded with more indistinct images, and she realized she was seeing the arcane warrior's life. Only a few images were clear. The face of a beautiful young woman he loved deeply – his wife, she realized. She saw his children, first as young children, then as adults dressed as warriors. The same woman, still beautiful, but older and… somehow her aging is connected with anger. A last image of the crumpled lifeless bodies of his wife and children… overwhelming despair, and then… nothing.

Virae wiped the tears from her eyes and concentrated on the last layer. At first, this memory seemed to be even more vague - there were no images, only sensations. She realized it was a memory of physical movement, of muscles pulling and pushing, shifting balance, heightened awareness, sweat, labored breath, steel as an extension of her own body. This layer contained the arcane warrior's memories of practicing weapon forms.

With a growing sense of anticipation and excitement, Virae stood up and pulled her daggers from their sheaths. She whispered the spell, and for the first time, the blades were comfortable in her hand, not heavy and awkward as they had been before. She concentrated, and began to move slowly through the forms, solidifying each precise movement in her own body and mind. The feeling of power, of dangerous energy was exhilarating. Her body felt agile and graceful in a way that she had only experienced when she shape-shifted a cat. Similar to her wolf form, her body felt strong, fierce, and vividly aware of her surroundings. She reveled in the power and deadliness coursing through her own body.

She began to tire. Despite her magic being channeled into strength, her body was unaccustomed to this type of exercise, and by the time she ran through each dual weapon form at least three times, her muscles were screaming for rest.

Finally she stopped, euphoric and exhausted. In her heightened state of awareness she had seen Alistair approach her half-way through the forms. As she re-sheathed her daggers, eyes still glowing, she looked up at him to find that he was staring, mouth gaping open.

Virae smiled hugely and threw her arms exuberantly around his neck, "Oh Alistair, I did it - I worked out the arcane warrior spell!"

Her happiness melted a bit as she felt him stiffen. She concentrated on letting go of her connection with the fade and pulled away from him, touching the metal part of his gauntlets to discharge any residual electrostatic energy before accidentally shocking him. She knew the moment her eyes stopped glowing because Alistair relaxed. Dropping her hands, she looked at him doubtfully, "Umm, what are you doing here?"

Alistair ran a hand uncomfortably through his hair, "Well, ah, dinner is almost ready. And, umm… Leliana came back to camp alone after her practice session with the assassin…"

Virae rolled her eyes, "And you were just checking up on me? Did you expect to find Zevran here?"

"I just don't trust him, Vie." Alistair said stubbornly, "He could still try to kill you."

"We've been through this before. He could, but he won't." Virae was exasperated, "He gave me his oath, Alistair."

Alistair took one of her hands and said, "I just could not bear for anything to happen to you."

Virae took his other hand in hers, and smiled sardonically up at him, "If you really want to waste energy worrying about that, there's any number of other people and darkspawn that want to kill both of us."

Alistair looked into her eyes, and to her surprise, leaned down and kissed her. She slipped her arms around his neck and kissed him back fervently for a few moments, until he took her hands in his and gently pushed her away with a nervous chuckle, "let's not get ahead of ourselves."

Virae nodded and looked away to hide her frustration and disappointment. With a sigh she took his arm and they turned to walk back to camp.

"What were you saying about an 'arcane warrior' spell?" Alistair asked reluctantly, "Is that what gave you the, ah, ability to use those daggers?"

Virae's earlier excitement started to come back, "I can channel my magical power through my body and into the strength and skill to wield a combat weapon! And I think…" her eyes glowed briefly, "…Yes! It will work with any weapon set - sword and shield, or two-handed, as well as dual weapons…"

Zevran was observing the mage warden invisibly from the shadows. She would do this almost every evening – go off on her own, and meditate for a few minutes to an hour, with only the Mabari guarding her - the perfect opportunity for an assassin. It was not too late to finish the job his Crow masters had contracted him to do. He could still kill both of them and return to Antiva, but he found that he did not want to.

The intelligence reports supplied by Rendon Howe had been accurate in regards to the wardens' location, but inaccurate in regard to almost everything else, including the wardens themselves. The report had concluded that the human warrior was the leader, and the elven mage accompanying him little more than his bed-partner. Of course, he knew from his own experience that it was not unusual for humans to underestimate elves.

As a Crow, his cell had temporarily allied with other cells to complete a contract, but the reward had been gold, and most importantly, reputation. Zevran had never before been part of a group of this size that was not held together and motivated by greed and intimidation.

This group was held together by a passionate dedication to a common – if insanely impossible - cause. And, this elven woman was the cohesion uniting them.

A stray thought of Rinna slipped past his carefully constructed wall before he pushed it back. The fair warden had guessed correctly, he had planned to die in his attempt to kill the last Grey Wardens in Ferelden. But, when faced with his own death, he found he wanted to live. Desperation had driven him to beg for his life and offer his oath. Perhaps it was a stroke of fate - that tricky whore - to be given his life, and a chance to leave the Crows, at the same time.

He watched as the elven mage unsheathed her daggers. Earlier that day he had teased her about playing with weapons she didn't know how to handle. She had laughed easily, but before he could continue his attempt to evoke a blush, they were interrupted by the jealous ex-Templar. So Zevran was surprised now when, eyes luminous, she began moving through a dual weapon form.

He observed the form curiously; it was similar in some ways to forms he knew, although she was obviously unaccustomed to moving in that way.

Alistair's arrival was expected, and Zevran was unsurprised to be the topic of their conversation. The ex-templar was right to be concerned about her safety with him around. Zevran felt a little uncomfortable hearing the lovely elf tell the other warden that she trusted his oath. How can it be that just by trusting him, she made him want to be trustworthy?

The two wardens were definitely not bed-partners, he thought, as he watched the awkward kiss. And, clearly that rather humorous situation was the warrior's choice and not hers, at least so far.

Elvish Words (borrowed from the Dragon Age wiki)

Mi: blade.

Vir: way or path.

Thank you to everyone who has added my story to their Favorite Stories and Story Alerts! A big Thank You to my reviewers, Angry Girl and jubamischin!