Promises: Chapter Fourteen
Disclaimer: Dragon Age and all assorted characters/places/etc belong to Bioware, not me.
As Fenris had suspected, there had been three of Isabela's men loitering around the back entrance of the inn. The assassin, however, wound up turning that to their advantage. Using one of the little flasks he always kept on his person, he stunned the men but then led the party back into the inn to exit via a window on the ground floor. "A little misdirection never hurt," he explained.
From there, he took them on a route that led them through some of the busiest parts of the city. There was a certain sort of anonymity to be found within the crowds. Both the templars and Isabela would also expect them to be trying to hide rather than staying out in the open. That strategy seemed to serve them well…at least until they got to the city gates.
"Andraste's tits," Zev swore, stopping dead in his tracks. Parked in front of the gates leading out the city were several teams of templars, all of whom were examining travelers as they passed. "All this for one lousy rumor about an apostate?" he muttered under his breath.
"It might be more than that," Hawke said. She shifted back and forth uneasily. "Remember how I told you that when we found you in the sewers, Fenris and I had been running away from the templars? Well…we kind of killed several of those templars. Not their entire group, and so the survivors might have put out an alert on us."
The look Zevran gave her was full of grief. "And you did not see fit to mention this to me before?" he asked. The assassin shook his head. "It would have been nice to know before plotting our escape route. Is there anything else you've hiding from me that I should know about?" he asked.
Fenris snorted. That was the pot calling the kettle black. He could ask the same of the assassin, but he held his peace. Still Fenris was mildly surprised; evidently Hawke hadn't told the assassin everything that there was to know about them. Right now, however, they needed to keep their focus, something that both the assassin and the mageling were bad at. The most important thing was keeping Hawke away from the templars. If her guess was correct and the templars were specifically searching for her, then who knew what they had planned for Hawke if they caught her. "That's enough. We need to get out of here," he said.
"Tell me something I don't know," Zevran replied. "No really, please do. If there's anything else that I should know that might keep me from leading us into another trap, then now's the time to say something."
"We might want to avoid the sewers. That's how we got away last time," Hawke volunteered.
"So when you said right before you met me, you meant that literally. That's good to know, I guess, but I wasn't thinking of taking us through the sewers anyway. That would be a very unpleasant experience." Zevran shuddered violently. Fenris was curious for a moment about how bad it could be in Antiva City's sewers, but considering how bad it was above ground, he didn't really want to find out.
"For now, let's get out of here," said Zevran. "Before they catch sight of us." He looked left and then right before darting down the nearest side alley, with Fenris and Hawke hot on his heels. Unfortunately their retreat attracted attention of the wrong kind. Two templars broke off from their group and steadily pushed their way through the crowd to the side alley.
"Zev," Hawke whined, a sense of urgency to her voice as Zevran led them from one cramped footpath to the next. "I think we're being followed." Though Hawke had a pinched, nervous look to her, she didn't seem terrified at the mere thought of templars the way she had been weeks before. Fenris' heart swelled with pride; his mageling had come a long way since then. She could be counted on to participate in their defense whereas before fear would have frozen her.
"Oh, you think so? Well let me put that issue to rest for you. There is no need to worry about whether we're being followed. I assure you that we most certainly are. Being followed, that is," was the assassin's flippant reply. "That's one of the problems with running away. People tend to assume you're doing so for the wrong reasons. Of course, they'd be right in this instance but it would still be nice to be given the benefit of the doubt once in a while."
"Not helping here," Hawke muttered.
"Keep your head down. Hopefully we'll lose them," Fenris told her.
"Good advice. You might want to consider following that yourself, seeing how it's your head of hair that sticks out the most," Zevran said. "Try throwing something over it. I should have done something about that this morning before we left, but we were in a rush. Next time we have to run for our lives, however, I'll be certain to make it less…bright."
Fenris flushed. He hadn't thought about it. He hung his head, not happy at being such a liability. If Hawke was caught because of him—
"I like his hair, thank you very much," Hawke told the assassin firmly. "You just wish—"
Zevran held up a hand. "Please. I don't need to hear about how much you enjoy playing with his hair, I really don't. Although that makes me think… we are being followed by templars, right?"
Fenris rolled his eyes. Surely the other elf could hear the templars bearing down on them. "Are you deaf?" he asked. "Can't you hear the clink and clank of their armor?"
"Yes, yes, I can," Zevran replied. "I just thought of a place we can hide, someplace where they'll never find us." With that, he turned down into another side street in a rush without warning, leaving Fenris and Hawke to follow after him. Fenris easily made the same maneuver, but he had to reach out a hand to support Hawke when she stumbled.
Fenris had to steady Hawke several times over as Zevran took them at a dizzying pace through a series of small streets, never bothering to tell them in advance when he was about to make another sharp turn. Fenris could appreciate the fact that the assassin was trying to lose their tail and so didn't want to hand out any clues as to where they were headed. Hawke was out of breath and sweating with the effort to keep up though. Frowning, he was about to insist that they slow down when Hawke reached out to squeeze his hand, her eyes briefly meeting his to let him know that she was fine.
Zevran finally slowed down after about half an hour later. "And here we are," he said grandly as they stepped out of one side alley into a main thoroughfare. "My favorite part of town." The assassin tilted his head as he considered Hawke. "However, we do not want people to get the wrong ideas, particularly about you, little one." Smiling he took hold of Hawke's hand, pulling her along as he ambled forward.
Fenris paused so he could take stock of his surroundings. Though it was morning and the sun was high in the sky, this section of Antiva City was full of shadows. There was also a peculiar tang in the air, one that almost overrode the normal stench of the city. Fenris' eyes widened as he caught sight of some of the embellishments decorating the buildings of this area as well as the scantily-clad women that seemed to be on almost every corner.
The blighted assassin had taken them straight to the heart of the red light district of Antiva City. That was why he had taken hold of Hawke so that there would be no prying questions as to her availability. Fenris swore under his breath and then quickened his pace to catch up with the other two. His stomach dropped as he saw that they were already one the steps of one of the more garish establishments.
"What is this place called?" Hawke asked the assassin as she craned her neck up at an awkward angle to look at the establishment's name. "I'm afraid that my knowledge of Antivan is limited at best."
Zevran flushed, which to Fenris' mind, was not a good sign. "Um…it doesn't translate well. Suffice it to say, it is a play upon a particular type of sandwich popularized here. Now come on. Let's get inside before our pursuers catch up." He pushed the door open and stepped in, hanging on to Hawke all along. Fenris was left with no choice but to do the same.
"It seems that you are known here," Hawke remarked as not a few of the brothel's occupants greeted Zevran enthusiastically. "Well known, in fact."
"Ah yes, well I do try to spend a little time here whenever I'm in the city," Zevran agreed. He continued to herd Hawke further in to the brothel and away from the entrance.
"We don't have time for this," Fenris interrupted them. "Besides didn't you have your needs seen to the other night by your pirate friend? Who is now out for your blood, in case you've forgotten."
"No, I've not forgotten," Zevran replied without looking back at the other elf. He stopped once he reached a shadowed corner at the very end of the room. "No one will bother us here. This is the perfect place to hide."
Hawke whirled around so she could look at the assassin. "You've taken us to a brothel to hide?" she asked. The confusion that was rampant in her voice was shared by Fenris.
"Yes, of course. A whorehouse is the perfect place to hide anyone or anything," the assassin asserted, puffing his chest out.
"So you'd hide an apostate in a brothel?" Hawke questioned.
Zevran gestured towards her. "Obviously."
"How about a prince? I'd imagine a prince would stick out here like a sore thumb," said Hawke.
The assassin chuckled. "Ah little one, you are so innocent. You'd be surprised at how easily princes take to whorehouses on the whole. For example I've heard stories about the third prince of Starkhaven that would curdle…but that is neither here nor there. To answer your question, a brothel is also the perfect place to hide a prince. Most would enjoy their stay, and you'd have a hard time prying a select few out."
Fenris rolled his eyes. Perhaps the assassin had taken a blow to the head last evening while he was out and about for he was being especially ridiculous today. "How about a whore?" asked Fenris. "Would you hide a whore in a whorehouse?"
"Of course! Who would find her amongst all the other whores?" Zevran wagged his finger. "And if she's very lucky, she might even make a bit of coin."
"How about a cow?" Hawke was clearly grasping at straws here. "Surely you wouldn't—"
"Hide a cow in a whorehouse?" Zevran finished for her. "You are speaking of the farm animal, yes?" At Hawke's nod, Zevran shrugged his shoulders. "I don't see why not. Farm animals are not my thing," he added with a slight shudder, "but when you get right down to it, every man is entitled to his own kinks. Who am I to judge another man's perversions, especially when I have so many of my own?"
"So a brothel is also the perfect place to hide an irritated lady raider?" Hawke asked, a slight smirk on her face.
"Yes, yes, haven't we been through—wait! You mean Isabela's here?" Zevran gave a visible start. He twisted his neck back and forth. "Shit! Where do you see her?"
"I don't," Hawke replied. "I just was wondering if you'd hide her here too, that's all. Though you should be more careful, Zev. You jumped so high you almost hit the ceiling," she said with a sly smile.
"Ha, ha. Very funny. Our grumpy friend's sense of humor has rubbed off on you. It is not an improvement," said Zevran.
"I'm a better influence than you are," Fenris told the other elf.
"I'm not so sure about that," the assassin said. Then suddenly there was a commotion at the entrance of the brothel as the pair of templars who had been chasing them barged in.
Now it was Hawke's turn to jump. She tugged at the assassin's arm and pulled his head towards hers. "Zev! I thought you said they wouldn't follow us in here," she whispered frantically into his ear.
"Did I?" The assassin looked like a cat who had got into the cream.
"Yes, you did," Fenris said firmly. He was not pleased with this turn of events. Though Hawke remained outwardly calm, he knew that she must be on the verge of panic. There was no where for them to run from the templars here.
"Actually, I'm afraid that you're both wrong. I never said that they wouldn't follow us here. I just said that they would never find us. Watch," said Zevran. He splayed his hand out towards the templars. "Watch and learn."
The small group turned their attention back to the templars, who both still stood near the doorway. They weren't the only ones looking at the templars. Indeed it seemed like every eye in the brothel was cast upon the two armored men.
Then one whore, bolder than the rest, sashayed forward on eager heels. The sultry brunette laid one hand on the older templar's arm and bent to whisper something in his ear. From the shock expression on the templar's face, it must have been something lewd. His lack of response, however, was taken as encouragement by the prostitute, whose hand trailed first across the templar's chest before going markedly lower.
Just like that, the spell of silence that had been cast in the brothel was broken. The templars found themselves drowning in eager women and not a few men. The older of the pair shoved them all away from him and stalked towards the entrance, commanding the other one to follow. The younger templar cast a longing look back before following his superior's lead, much to the disappointment of most of the brothel.
"See? What did I tell you? The only thing the whores here love more than a man in uniform is a man whose uniform happens to be heavy armor," Zevran chuckled. "Not that I can blame them. Wearing heavy plate builds all sorts of muscles."
Fenris saw little to be amused by. "So they didn't find us here, I'll give you that," he said. "I doubt the templars are going to give up that easily though. I bet they're waiting outside for us to make our exit."
"Maybe. I doubt they'll be able to stay here long before they're propositioned again though. Although it looks like the younger of the pair was willing. My money is on him coming back later," Zevran said.
Fenris sighed. It was difficult to keep the assassin focused on anything…well anything that wasn't related to sex. "If you think that a templar is returning later, then we had best not be here when he does," he pointed out.
"Oh he won't be back for us. I think he liked the—" Zevran caught the pointed glare that was being given to him by the other elf and stopped. "Fine, fine. You are no fun, my friend. It does not matter if the templars are watching the front door. We are not leaving that way. This particular establishment has a secret tunnel that leads out of the city for its clients to use," he explained. "And I know the madam of this brothel well. She is an old friend of mine, and I am certain she will let us use that passage."
Fenris snorted. Considering how well Zevran's contacts had gone with his other old friends, he didn't have the same optimism as the assassin. Meanwhile Hawke had wandered a few feet off to examine a nearby table. "Zev," she called out. "What's this for?" she asked, pointing to one of the objects laid out on the table.
The assassin eagerly leapt upon the opportunity to get away from the conversation he was having with Fenris, and he trotted over to see what she was pointing at. Zevran's eyes lit up with glee as he recognized the object. "That is…well you see you're supposed to strap it—hmm, maybe this is something better demonstrated than explained, yes?" He cast a sideways glance over at the mageling. "If you like, I can get us a room and show you how—"
Fenris' face flushed red, first with embarrassment when he realized what the mageling was pointing to but then with anger—anger at the blighted assassin's sheer unmitigated gall to take advantage of Hawke's naivety like that. His rage was palpable, and the assassin was quick to take notice. "Of course you can come too, my friend," Zevran said in a rush, holding up his hands in an appeasing gesture. "The more the merrier and all."
But Fenris was not in a mood to sit back and listen to such an offer. He stepped forward, all but shoving the assassin away from Hawke. "We need to leave now," he said. Zevran looked as though he was about to protest but wisely kept his mouth shut upon the fierce scowl Fenris sent his way. With a sigh, the assassin left them to find the brothel's madam and arrange for their passage out. "And as for you," Fenris said, turning his full attention to his mageling. "Do. Not. Touch. Anything."