First, many thanks to those of you who've added this to their favorites/alerts list and given reviews. Your feedback is welcome. As our favorite Crow says, 'It's nice to know one's efforts are appreciated.' And another thank you to brownc0at for being my beta.

Yes, they finally meet in this chapter. I debated for a while on whose point of view to tell this from and settled on Zevran's. For one thing, I wanted to dig into his thoughts while he was being questioned. Zevran's dialogue in the game scene is very telling about his character, so I didn't really change it very much. But I hope the narrative gives some insight into his reasons and motivations, and his first impressions of the Warden. Enjoy and please feel free to review.

Zevran Araini

I watched from behind a fallen wagon as Rusha guided the Grey Wardens and their companions to the ambush. Master Stefan's reports had been quite thorough, and it had been easy to find out where they were headed after finishing up at the Circle Tower.

Darrian was in the lead, the others fanned out behind him. I'd known he was an elf, of course, and that he had some skill with the blades strapped to his hips. He had survived Ostagar, after all. He was younger than I expected…and handsome. Sleek and lithe, he moved like a cat, wary and graceful. It seemed a pity to destroy such beauty.

I stepped out from behind a fallen wagon and Rusha came up to me, smiling.

"Not very bright, this mark. He swallowed the tale easily," she whispered.

I glanced past her, and saw his hands moving towards his weapons, his eyes narrowing as he studied me and his body shifting forward. I raised my hand to signal the others. At the sound of the axe chopping through the rope that held up the tree, the Warden twisted around and then dived, rolling away from the tree as it came crashing down behind the party to block their retreat. He'd never even glanced back, just reacted.

I drew my blades. "The Grey Wardens die here," I shouted, as the rest scrambled into position.

In the first minutes of the ambush, it seemed I would prevail. There were a dozen of us, and we had the high ground, a skilled mage and more than a dozen traps scattered and hidden throughout the site. The qunari was taken down first, not killed but knocked out. I went for Darrian, but the other Warden kept getting in my way. Twisting and blocking my approach with that damned shield of his. Impossible to flank that man, wo was quick and agile, for all that he had clomped about following behind my Warden when they'd first approached. He rammed his shield into my chest, and I folded like a fall of silk off a draper's table and blacked out.

When I came to, I found myself slung, belly side down, over a saddle. My arms and legs were tightly bound, and someone had stuffed a gag into my mouth. I grunted as the gait of the horse jarred my bruised belly. Maker, that shield had hurt. I twisted my head up and Darrian, leading the horse, glanced back at me. There were just the two of us. I wondered where the others were.

"I see you're awake. Good; when we get to camp, you can answer some questions."

He had a pleasant voice, like rough silver, smooth but with a smoky undertone that sent a shiver through my loins. I hadn't expected that. I hadn't expected to be lugged like a sack of grain, either, to some other place to be questioned. The usual procedure was to kick someone awake, and then pry out what information you could before slitting their throat.

I hoped camp wasn't very far. Hanging over the side of a horse is a very undignified position, not to mention all the blood rushing to my head and making it pound.

We veered off the road about a half-league from the ambush. He followed a narrow game trail through the trees for about a hundred yards to a small clearing beside a rocky stream. When the horse stopped, someone grabbed me from behind and dumped me onto the ground. I winced as a stone jabbed into my thigh, and then my Warden pulled off the gag. I spent a minute spitting out bits of thread and something that tasted like unwashed socks. Maker, I hoped it wasn't an unwashed sock that they had used.

I sat up, and looked up into the dark Grey eyes of my Warden. Deep as a well, and shimmering, but also full of shadows. He stood balanced on the balls of his feet, holding a long sword pointed directly at my throat.

The qunari stood behind him, holding a broad two-handed blade and looking no worse for having been rendered unconscious. Hard to read, that one. Not the other Warden; the desire for my life was plain in his face. What was his name from the report? Ah, yes…Alistair. Behind him, stood a woman wearing a mage's robes, and while she was no longer young, she had grace and strength. Next to her, a red-haired woman, pretty as a flower, carried a bow. And beyond them all, standing near a small fire, was a woman of dark beauty and deadly grace, a rare combination. She didn't wear a mage's robes, but I'd seen her tossing fireballs and ice lances around. The one who seemed to hold my life in his hands, though, was the man standing over me. The others all watched him, waiting.

My blood wasn't soaking into the ground and ruining my fine Antivan leather armor because he wanted answers.

"Well, since you have questions, I'll get right to the point. My name is Zevran Araini. And I am a member of the Antivan Crows, contracted for the sole purpose of slaying the remaining Grey Wardens, which I have failed at, sadly." Or perhaps, not so sadly, I thought, as I gazed up into those beautiful dark Grey eyes.

He frowned. "The Crows?"

Alistair grimaced, and though he said nothing, I suspected he had heard of us.

"An order of assassins out of Antiva. Very powerful. And very expensive. Someone went to a lot of trouble to hire him," the red-headed woman said. From her accent, she was Orlesian. And from the lute strap slung across her shoulder, a bard, as well. Not surprising then, that she knew about the Crows.

"I'm surprised you haven't heard much of the Crows out here. Back where I come from, we're rather infamous." I emphasized the last word ever so slightly. If my Warden noticed, he gave no sign.

The sword tip touched my throat and it took some effort not to swallow. His face showed little.

"So, someone wanted us dead badly enough to hire an assassin."

"But who would do that?" Alistair said, his brow furrowed.

My Warden's grey eyes darkened, like storm clouds over the sea. "Who betrayed the Wardens at Ostagar? Who set a bounty on any surviving Wardens?"

Alistair's hand tightened on his sword, and it shifted in his grip, coming to rest in my direction, unfortunately.

"Loghain." He said the name as if it were a curse.

"Well?" Darrian asked me.

"The rather taciturn fellow in the capital? Yes, it was him."

Darrian frowned and shifted his weight further onto the balls of his feet. "When were you to meet him next?"

"I wasn't. I was to return home and the Crows would have informed him, assuming of course, that he didn't already know about it. And if I had failed, I would be dead."

"If you had failed?"

I chuckled. "What can I say? I'm an eternal optimist. Although, the chances of succeeding now seem rather slim, don't they?" I laughed and he looked at me as though I was mad. "No, I don't suppose you'd find that funny, would you?"

Why did I banter like this? Were old habits that hard to shake? I had sought death. But now, with death hovering just above my throat, I found myself wanting to live. There was something in those grey eyes, a fierce brightness that reminded me of Rinna. The memory hurt and beckoned at the same time. The stones around my heart shifted, just a little.

Alistair's sword kept moving in his hand. I kept my eyes on my Warden's. He was a hard one to read for one so young.

"How much did they pay you?"

"I was not paid anything. The Crows, however, received quite a large sum."

No need to mention that most of my payment came after the deed was done. Though considering how many have met death at my hands, I should be quite a wealthy man, not poor as a Chantry mouse. And here I was, in a cold grey land, with only my wits between me and death, and barely two copper coins left to rub together after I'd recruited the other assassins, who were now dead. At least, I assumed they were, since I was the only one in the camp. A pity, since some of them had showed promise, but they'd come knowing there was a chance they wouldn't survive this.

"And your loyalty to Loghain?" Darrian asked.

I almost laughed at his naiveté. But with a sword hovering just above my throat, I decided that a more prudent response would ensure my life continued. Though, why that seemed desirable at the moment, I wasn't quite sure.

"I assume his issues with you are the usual. You threaten his power, yes? Beyond that, I have no loyalty to him."

The dark-haired woman frowned and folded her arms. Though she'd fought by his side, she stood a little apart from the others. Maybe she was just ensuring she had a clean line of sight. I certainly would.

"Why are you telling me all this?" Darrian asked.

I chuckled again. So innocent, this one. So unwise in the ways of the world, despite his skill with a blade. Well, at least a steel one, as far as I knew.

"Why not? I wasn't paid for silence. Not that I offered it for sale, precisely."

"So, you have no loyalty to your employers?"

I cocked my head. He was going somewhere with these questions, though I couldn't quite see the point of them. I was rather surprised I was still breathing. Not an impulsive man, this Warden. Also unusual in one so young. Perhaps I would yet see another sunrise. I threw the dice.

"Loyalty is an interesting concept. If you wish, and you're done interrogating me, perhaps we could discuss it?"

"I'm listening."

I tossed the dice again, and then danced in the shadows between truth and fiction.

"Well, I failed to kill you, so my life is forfeit. If you don't kill me, then the Crows will, as gruesomely as possible. Thing is, I like living. And you…are the sort to give the Crows pause. So, let me serve you, instead."

He stared down at me. The qunari shifted on his feet, and Alistair's eyes widened. Clearly, none of them had been expecting my reply.

Guild rules were quite clear about the penalties for failing a contract. Master Stefan wasn't like most masters. But he certainly wasn't going to risk his life for mine. Besides, there was, at the moment, a very sharp sword, held by a very skilled man, pointed at my throat. Though, if he decided against me, it seemed that my death would be a clean one, at least.

"What's to keep you from finishing the job later?" Darrian asked.

It wasn't a surprising question. He was naïve, but not stupid. And he seemed… a more reasonable man than the Crows.

"To be completely honest, I never had much choice in joining the Crows. They bought me on the slave market when I was a child. As I said before, even if I did kill you, they might kill me on principle for failing the first time. Honestly…I'd rather take my chances with you." And there was nothing of fiction in what I'd just said.

"Won't they come after you?"

It seemed he wasn't yet done with his questions. Briefly, in the back of my mind, I wondered if he made love the same way. Long and tortuous. Ah, a sweet thought, and one worth pursuing if things worked out.

"Possibly, but I can protect myself, as well as you. And if not, well, it's not as if I had many alternatives to start with, is it?"

"If I do decide to…accept your service, can I expect the same kind of loyalty you showed Loghain?"

To be honest, I was a little miffed by the question. Hadn't we already discussed this?

"I happen to be a very loyal person, up until the point someone expects me to die for failing. That's not a fault, is it?" I glanced at the others. "I mean, unless you're the sort who would do the same thing. In which case I…don't come very well recommended, I suppose."

His sword dipped lower, pointing towards the ground now instead of at my throat.

"What do you want in return?"

Hmm, perhaps he was not as naïve as I thought. And the way he asked the question told me he had already decided, even if the others seemed unaware of that.

"Well, being allowed to live would be nice, and would make me somewhat more useful to you. And somewhere down the line, if you should decide that you no longer need me, then I go on my way. Until then, I am yours. Is that fair?" It certainly seemed so to me.

He slipped his sword back into its sheath. "All right, I accept."

"What? Are you out of your mind? Does this really seem like a good idea?" Alistair asked, his hand tightening on his hilt.

Darrian glanced at the others around him and then smiled. "Well, we are a rather mixed group, aren't we? Besides, we need every blade we can get."

Alistair frowned and folded his arms. "That's true…but… Oh, well, I suppose you know best."

Ah, so my Warden was capable of smiling. Good to know. Humor, more than seduction sometimes, is an effective weapon in disarming an opponent.

"Oh, this is a fine plan," the dark haired woman said and rolled those beautiful tawny eyes of hers. "I'd advise watching your food and drink from now on."

"A good idea in any case," I said, as Darrian drew his dagger and sliced through the ropes around my wrists and ankles, then helped me to my feet. He was stronger than he looked, with fine fingered hands. Warm hands, which sent a tingle under my skin that lingered even after he released me.

"I hereby pledge my oath of loyalty to you," I said, facing him. "Until such time as you release me, I am your man, without reservation. This I swear."

Now, all I had to do was make sure he never had a reason for releasing me from my oath.