New chapter. Bit of fluff between Lyna and Zevran. Realized I hadn't really written anything with just the two of them.

This is moving back into Lyna's perspective again, and will probably stay there for the next few chapters.

Also, I know I kind of skipped over Aveline's quest. The simple reason being that I just never really liked Aveline's quests, save the second chapter one with her and Donnic. Don't know why, just could never get into them, so I really couldn't get into writing about them. Sorry if that annoys anybody.

Hope you enjoy!

Oh! Before I forget, cariño is Spanish for sweetheart. I went with Spanish because that seemed to be the general consensus of what they speak in Antiva according to the Dragon Age wiki. hope that works... otherwise... well... hmm... I'll go with artistic license again.

Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Lyna leaned more heavily on Varric, and winced as pain shot through her left side.

She was incredibly stupid.

A laugh slipped through her lips. A small snort of a sound that made her laugh even harder. Varric glanced up at her, his brow raised in question as he adjusted his hold on her waist. "Look, Hero, if you are going to have a break down or something let me know now. I can get you situated and get myself to a safe distance."

She continued to laugh a few moments more, her limp becoming more pronounced, before she took in some sucking breaths and relinquished some of the extra weight she had put on him.

"I promise you will be the first to know, my friend." She tilted a smile down to him as they continued up the stairs.

She turned her attention to cursing every single step they took. Trying to think of different words for the same vile things to occupy herself. This city had too many stairs. Who could want to live in such a place? Always walking up and down. It was simply annoying.

She glanced down as another step up pulled at her. Her leg was raw, the skin gone, and the pink underneath weeping a mixture of blood and other liquids. Further up, along her waist was a large slash, blood leaking out in a slow pour..

She wondered idly if it was bad that her head swam from looking down.

They had fought the man, and his hirelings, that were causing such trouble for Aveline. The Guard Captain herself had given a very impassioned speech, and it had been followed by a rather quick and easy fight.

The problem, Lyna thought, was that she was an idiot.

She had known that her leg was hurt, still throbbing from the burn that Justice had inflicted on her. She had slid under a man's legs, to escape his sword, and to thrust her own daggers into his stomach, without thinking about what it would do. When she stood up the pain in her leg had, for just a moment, been blinding. Just long enough to make her lose her focus. Just long enough for the man to use the last of his strength to stab at her.

She had noticed at the last moment, just soon enough to turn so that she was sliced through the side instead of the chest, the sword sliding easily through her skin and muscle as the man had fallen to the ground.

She took a moment to catch her breath, not registering the new wound. She stared down at her leg, her brain taking longer then usual to process what had happened.

The leather that was the top of her boot was already gone, burnt away by magical fire; however the layer of angry red blisters that had covered the side of her left shin was gone, rub clean away by her slide across the ground. In its place was an angry mix of bleeding red flesh, clear liquid, and whatever claimed to be the ground of Darktown.

She stared another moment before stumbling slightly, her weight being caught by Aveline. That's when she took in the rest of her left side. At the very end of her ribcage was a large gash; a steady stream of blood pouring out of the wound.

Not good indeed.

Hawke had managed to bind the gash, and she had been pawned off on Varric, due to his size better matching her own; the others agreed to follow until Lyna waved them off, stating she and her dwarven companion needed no help. She could very well make her way to the gallows for healing. She was in no danger of bleeding out.

So here she was, walking up and down miles of hated stairs, leaning on the broad shoulders of a dwarf while Hawke and Aveline went off to do, well, whatever they did when they weren't fighting things..

She laughed again, and Varric gave a heavy sigh.

She sent him an amused look, resigning herself to the fact that he would much rather be doing something else, and searched her memory for something that would make it worth his while.

As they settled into a boat bound for the gallows, she leaned forward, her movements exagerated as her head swam. "Varric," the name was slurred and she laughed again, not noticing the fact that almost all of her side was stained red, the large side wound opening again each time she moved. "Would you like to hear a story."

Varric rubbed a hand over his mouth, long since giving up trying to make her sit still. "You definitely know how to reach my heart, Hero. I always like a good story."

"Especially one you can change to suit yourself."

A smile bloomed on his blunt face, "Yes, especially that."

She gave a nod and sat back, managing to tip only slightly too far, her shoulder bumping into a tight faced Templar trying his best to ignore her.

Seeing the steely face destroyed her already shaky concentration, and she turned to smile widely at the man beside her. "Very sorry, serah. I hope you can forgive me. I hope I didn't get blood on you."

At the mention of blood the Templar turned to look at first himself and then her, his eyes narrowing a bit as he took in her wounds. "Don't you elves have anything better to do then fight each other?" The question was dismissive and he turned to look away from her again.

She waved a hand at Varric as she saw him open his mouth, and then turned her attention back to the man. A lesson she learned early in life was that if she kept talking, and smiled and complimented and joked, then she could usually convince others to do the same; whether they wanted to or not. "Do they here? I hadn't noticed, but then I am Dalish, and we do have a habit of fighting with people, so maybe I shouldn't be surprised that cities elves do too. Not really each other though... more usually it's humans. Which is what happened here, so I guess I am not winning anyone to my side. Does it help that I killed a rather annoying mage? I would hate to be thought ill of by the Templars." She paused a moment and placed her hands on either side to grip her seat, black hazing over her vision. When she focused again the Templar was staring at her, and Varric looked to be holding back a smile.

She managed another more wobbly smile and held out a hand. "I'm Lyna by the way, and I really do apologize if I got any body fluids on you. May I ask your name?"

He hesitated a moment before taking her hand lightly and replying, "Emmerit." He glanced down at where her hand trembled in his then look up to her face again. "You are very pale..." She withdrew her hand and regripped the seat before rolling a shrug that caused sparks of pain to dance in front of her eyes. "Ah, well, side effect of blood loss I am sure."

The boat came to a jerking halt beside the Gallows dock, and people began to stand and file off. She watched Varric stand and start out of the boat, her vision floating in and out a moment before she thought to catch his attention. "Varric, sorry... to be a bother, but I think I won't be able to walk." She cast a glance past him when he looked back at her, and nodded to the towering set of stairs that lead up to the mage and Templar quarters. "Maybe I was a bit hasty in sending Aveline and Hawke away..." She sounded bleak even to herself, and took a moment to resolve herself to try and get up anyway.

Pushing up, she let out a gasp and immediately sunk back down, the pain sharpening before dulling to a more disturbing numb. She sent Varric another apologetic look as he started over to her, but was surprised when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Looking up she took in the towering Templar, her eyes blinking a few times before she said, "Yes?"

"Permit me, Lyna. I can get you up easily enough, and it will save your friend who is doubtlessly tired from getting you this far." Without waiting he scooped her up, and step from the boat, Varric trailing behind, a quizzical look on his face. "Maker, Lyna, is there anyone you can't talk into helping you?"

She shook her head slowly as she draped an arm over Emmerit's shoulder. "Did no such thing... Kindness... of his own heart."

They made it up the stairs quickly, and she was deposited back with Varric as Emmerit went to hunt down help. Scanning the crowd milling around them, Lyna noticed a tall copper haired Templar that look vaguely familiar talking with their new friend. As he glanced toward them and then started making his way over his name finally came to her.

"Cullen. So glad to see you." Her voices sounded far away, and she thought he looked vaguely concerned as the world went dark.

She woke with a start, her fist shooting out reflexively to punch the person she felt beside her. Hearing a muffled curse as her hand connected she scrunched back and raised her arm again.

A groaning laugh stopped her short, and her eyes popped open. Zevran stood a few feet away from the cot she was laying on rubbing his chest. "I know I was not there today, cariño, but I don't think I deserve that."

She sent him a smile as she shifted to sit up, her movements stilted as she checked for any lingering pain; she was pleasantly surprised to find none. Turning her attention back to the still standing Zevran she raised a brow and waited until he had settled back in beside her to speak again. "I am afraid I did not comport myself in a manner in which you would approve, so it is probably best you were not."

He gave another laugh and slid a hand around her, pulling her closer until she was settled against his chest, and his chin was resting on her head. "Ah, well, nothing is to be done about it now."

She played with one of her fingers, and said, "I fainted." She winced as she said the words, annoyed that she sounded so sullen.

"You wilted gracefully."

"I let a... simple thug nearly skewer me."

"Even you are not invincible, but it seems to have worked out alright. After all, he is dead and you are here, no?"

She merely grumbled and pushed off of him. Sliding from the bed, and noting that she was wearing only her under armor, she looked around the sparse stone room. At least they hadn't left her laying in the courtyard. She moved to where her armor was draped on a chair, and quickly put it on, ignoring the blood splatter and hole. She paused at the boots, and made a sound of disgust. The leather on the left one was melted and frayed, the top gone and the edges black. She tossed them back to the ground. Better to go barefoot.

Turning to look back, she sent a smile to Zevran, her head tilting slightly in question. "Not that I do not love seeing you, but why are you here, and where is Varric?"

He made a tsking sound as he stood from the bed and made his way over. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he nuzzled into her neck before answering. "Is that how it is, mi amor? Set aside for a dwarf with a bow fetish? You wound me. If I had known I would have spent much more time waxing your bow string and less..." She let the laugh bubble out, cutting him off before she shifted to kiss him. "I think I enjoy you focusing on other things more. I am just curious."

Zevran shook his head with a laugh, "You ruin all my fun, cariño. I ran into Aveline in Hightown. She told me what happened, and where you were headed. There was no reason for Varric to stay once I got here, and he was in desperate need of a bath, and new clothes." He dropped a hand to poke at the slice still evident in her armor. "So are you, yes?"

Before she could step away he moved his hand up from the leather to her hair, running his fingers through it as he kissed her again. "Aveline told me it started with your mage friend. What happened?"

Lyna immediately pushed away, and started to busy herself with finding her weapons and holstering them. "Nothing. Misunderstanding, nothing to worry..." She was cut off when he grabbed her arm and turned her to face him.

His face was set, his eyes narrowed as he said, "You are not doing that with me. I am not some simpering fool who you can roll over. I don't care what you tell the others, Lyna, but you will tell me the truth." He let go of her arm and stared at her, waiting for a reply.

She sighed and sat down on the cot, her knees coming up so she could wrap her arms around them. "I don't know what exactly you want to hear. I was visiting with Anders. Justice apparently didn't like how the conversation was going so he took over. He shot fire at me, I threatened to slit his neck. It really isn't a vastly entertaining story."

He settled next to her, raising a hand to push the hair from her face and behind her ear. "You have never been one to stand still and let someone shoot magic at you."

She made a face at him, and dropped her knees. "It's not like I stood there with my leg held out and told him I would like it well done. I just... miscalculated. I didn't think he would actually attack." She made a sound of disgust and stood from the bed to pace the small chamber. "It's all my fault. I never should have let that spirit stay and help us. Or I should have done something when he started acting differently. Now Anders is paying the price."

"Last I checked, you did not make him take Justice in. That was his own fault."

She stopped to look back at where Zevran still sat. "He is going to end up dead, Zev."

He shrugged a shoulder, "Then he dies. You are too quick to take others troubles on as your own. You can't save everyone, cariño, and it seems to me that he doesn't want to be saved."

She stared at him a moment before letting out a soft laugh. "Such a mercenary. You can't say that you don't care what happens here, and something will Zev, I can feel it. It's not just going to be Anders either, it's going to hit everyone."

He stood and made his way over to her, his smile sly. "I am here because you are, and it as good as any other place. I would leave, but you have a bad habit of hunting me down." He laughed as she punched his arm. "Alright, alright, no need for more violence, cariño. I see where you are coming from, though I do wish you would stop pulling me into noble causes."

He gave a tug to her hair before moving to the door and holding it open for her. "I have had enough of sitting and staring at stone walls. I need food, and buxom tavern wenches who wear dresses that are much too low cut."

She gave a soft laugh as she followed him and threw her arms around his neck before he could walk off again. "I love you."

She felt him smile into her hair, and his hands settle on her waist. "You make me soft, mi amor. I suppose that means I love you too." He pulled away and took her hand, leading her out the door.