-They grow everywhere, and some will kill you-

As soon as he said it out lound he realized that was a bad plan. A terrible plan. A disastrous plan. The kind of plan that could get people killed, and not exactly their targets. Zevran was amazed to discover that while a part of his brain was mildly worried, the other part of him, the part that had come up with the idea of the new improvising policy, didn't care at all.

You can die, stronzo!

Bah.

Zevran had met Fist, and then the arl of Amaranthine; a thin man whose eyes sparkled like those of a rat biting your ankles in the darkness of a cell. Then they both went to see that taciturn fallow for approval. That one definitely looked like his ankles were being bitten by rats. So miserable, so weary. The black circles around his eyes were almost unpleasant to see.

He urged the elf to be quick. Get on with it, finish the job. No matter how. He didn't have special requests. He didn't seem interested either. Zevran might as well have been talking him about crops and taxes for all the emotion he showed. A haunted man, Zevran thought. Scared of his own decisions to the point of accepting assassins as a solution.

Not that he was sure he was going to be a solution. The mercenaries and him had asked their way to the Wardens, and then followed them from afar for a couple of days. Well, a scout had, not all of them, it would've been too obvious and Zevran wasn't sure yet wether he wanted to be obvious or efficient. Though seeing the plan they had…

Si potrebbe morire!

Psss.

Efficient was definitely not the word. Even if they killed their targets. The wardens weren't alone, and some of their companions looked certainly dangerous. Yes he was thinking about the qunari. Zevran sighed. Destiny plays its cards, and you gamble with what you've got, but absolutely blind. And sometimes… sometimes you take a leap of faith. The crow began to understand that with the strategy they had been building up, his only chance to survive whatever came next, was breaking the rope around his neck and taking his chances far away from the masters. Not that he particularly cared about death, but life was always a better option. He would –alas!- at least try, whatever there was to try. Gamble. And in the case everything failed and his throat ended up at the wrong side of a blade, well… it's not like didn't have it coming.

Whatever I get, is probably more than I deserve.

He jumped off the rock where he had been sitting and motioned to the mercenaries to get ready for the ambush. It was a traditional ambush, that should work on most cases, but Baia had told him –and master Baia knew a lot of things- never to underestimate the enemy. The mercenaries were underestimating a group of 8 people four of whom were survivors of the worst battle of the decade. Hmm, people need to learn the basics.

-Let's see, Fransie, you'll go up the road and lure our friends to the ambush, they're known around these parts for having a soft spot for refugees and other outcasts so I don't think it will be difficult for you to attract them if you use the squeaky voice.

Fransie chuckled, all confidence, and Zevran got the feeling that she wouldn't be chuckling for long. Oh well…

Far away from the masters. Far away from them all.

"So, Leliana, tell me again about this vision of yours."

The lay sister stared at Miach for a few seconds, wondering if he was trying to mock her, for it was the third time he'd asked that question.

"Well, I don't really know what else to tell you, Miach…"

"For the love of the ancestors, Miach, shut up! Will you leave the woman alone for a sodding minute?!"

The grin in the elf's face instantly disappeared, and a pink blush painted his cheeks. He'd thought mocking the sister would be a better way to deal with his frustration with being stuck with her than yelling or sulking. Apparently he was wrong. Apparently, the only person who got to tease others without being yelled at was Morrigan. A privilege for saving their lives, perhaps?

Miach sighed, he was bored. Even if everybody seemed to be in a particular good mood that afternoon. After his interruption, Leliana had begun humming again while Wynne listened in amusement. Alistair was telling Iola some of his childhood adventures and now and then she burst into laughter. Gudrun and Morrigan were speaking in quiet voices, but none of them sounded worried or angry, which only left the possibility of them simply having a friendly conversation. Even Sten, who was as quiet as usual, sniffed the air sometimes with a peaceful expression. Miach thought he'd caught him once or twice looking at wild flowers.

They hadn't always behaved like that; on the previous days rain and caution had them keeping a low profile, even on a solitary road: two scouts ahead, mages out of sight, mabari going back now and then to make sure their backs were clear. Now at then they met straggled groups of refugees and even though they were regarded with questioning looks and unsympathetic expressions, they were pretty much left alone.

But then, the Sun had come out of his hiding spot behind the clouds and everybody started acting like they were on a trip to somewhere nice. Well, maybe Gudrun wasn't exactly on a vacation, but even she seemed to enjoy the sunbeams all over her pale skin. Miach chuckled. She was getting used to the surface.

"… so she put me on top of the dog and kicked it in the butt! And the beast starts running with me in its back yelling like a banshee!"

"You're kidding!"

"I swear that's how it happened! And you know what? I didn't fall until we reached the docks when that damned dog decided he didn't want to get wet and stopped so suddenly that I fell right into the water."

"Now I can believe that!"

"Heey!"

Miach rolled his eyes at them. Whatever had happened at the Tower of the Circle had brought Iola and Alistair closer; less unspoken opinions, less shrinking. Well that was good, they had to get along he supposed, for once he was trying not to be too mean with the sister. Just tease her a bit sometimes, just like Morrigan did with Alistair. Ah but Morrigan had priviledges he did not possess. Hmpf.

Between the echo of their laughter, a third voice resonated. It was a woman, and soon they could see her.

"Help! Help! Please! Bandits! They have attacked us!"

His first instinct was to run to help, as any normal person would do, but he refrained himself and spyed Gudrun's reaction first.

"Who attacked you?"

"Bandits! Please you have to-"

"Are they still around?"

"yes! Please! They're not many but my faily and I can't! Oh please I barely escaped I don't know how much can my family resist!"

Gudrun twitched her nose and threw a significant look to Morrigan. The witch nodded and strode towards Miach while Gudrun unsheathed her axe and asked the woman to lead the way. Morrigan suddenly grabbed Miach's shoulder and gestured at Leliana to join them. Oh right. Strategy. Prevention. Caution.

Turns out, Gudrun was right. Of course she was. They ambushed the ambush. The giant bear that was Morrigan charged towards the hidden archers while Leliana and Miach offered long rage support to her and the rest of their companions. Wynne had been careful to stay out of sight, and for the first time Miach witnessed her outstanding healing skills. A marble. That allowed Iola to take a more aggressive role while still in cover and thus the obvious trap failed, even though they went through a grim bit when three arrows hit Sten and Morrigan gained some important cuts and bruises, but Wynne being there, when the fight was over, there was nothing to worry about.

Well… maybe there was something…

Zevran played dead for as long as he could, that is, until the damned mabari discovered he was breathing and his heart beating and that perhaps his or owner should be warned. Like he was going to try anything again. Against that people. He was a bad strategist but not stupid. And now he finally realized he didn't have a death wish either. A boot kicked him in the back, and a blade was softly pressed against his throat.

"Tell me something." The woman –a beautiful dwarven woman with an exquisite nose- said. No greetings no insults, just straight to business.

"Just one thing?"

She didn't answer, just glared at him. Zevran didn't see the necessity to disturb the silence.

"Tell me elf; are you that bad a fighter or were you failing at stabbing me on purpose?"

"A bit of both perhaps? I wouldn't say I'm a bad swordsman, but against you, my lady, I'm sure few men in the world-"

The blade was pressed a little harder.

"I just want to know if you are playing… or you're just mad."

Zevran himself couldn't find an accurate answer for that question. A player or a fool? Or a fool who's playing with what he's got? That thought elicited a small laugh out of his thought. By the look he got from the dwarf, he deduced she thought him completely crazy.

"I'm a gambler. Never had much luck, really."

A dark haired woman he hadn't seen approaching snorted. "Obviously. Just slit his throat." She said, dismissively, like he was some kind of bug. He felt a bit like bug, to be honest. Standing next to said woman there was a dark skinned elf and a very beautiful redhead who had the most lovely way of tapping her lips.

"We should question him first." She said, and looked embarrassed at the same time for having such ideas. Funny.

"Questioning?" The time for secrets had passed. "You don't need to do that, I'll tell you what I know, if you wish to hear it. I suppose I should start with question number one; who am I and why do I want to kill you, right? I'm Zevran, Zev to my friends and I am –or was- a proud member of the Crows of Antiva."

The only one who seemed to recognize the name was the redhead girl.

"I have obviously no quarrel with you and was hired by someone else." The dwarf raised her eyebrows. Maker almighty, what a skin, like nobility's. "You wish to know who, of course. I'll tell you, I was paid for your deaths not for my silence, which I seldom sell by the way. My employer was a rather taciturn fellow at the capital… I believe Loghain was his name. He was the one with the bag of coins anyway."

All the members of the group within his range of sight threw at each other some significant looks. Obviously, as it happens, they knew their enemy. A large blonde man that had been standing at some distance approached him then. "Who did he want you to kill exactly? Just the wardens? Or something more… specific?"

"He only said wardens, but he said make sure they are all dead. The four of them. Maybe if he had known what a handsome piece you were he would've thought twice…" Ah… the look on his face was priceless. Even if they killed him now it would've been worth it.

"So… what? You're just telling us this to avoid the pain of interrogation?" Another woman, one of the mages, and the blonde warrior winced when she said that. She had a recent scar across her jaw. Ugh… too many new faces for his… oh yes, great, he was injured. Probably slowly bleeding to death. How charming.

"I think that's reason enough." He answered, trying his best to stay calm and focused, with that knife still against the soft skin of his neck. "My life is in your hands, and my pain –or lack of- so why not make things easy for you? I have no desire of dying."

The dwarf made a rumbling noise with her throat. "That's funny." But she didn't look like she was having fun. "You just tried to kill us. Why in the name of the Ancestors would we spare you?"

Zevran tried to straighten up and failed, the sharp pain of the wound in his hip keeping him in place. "I can be of use, I could serve you."

"Like you served your masters?"

"Heh, I know I don't come with the best recommendations…"

"Anyone can fuck up, but betrayal is something different, If we are to expect the same loyalty…"

"I happen to be a very loyal person! Provided that failing to do my job doesn't have me killed. Like it would if I return to Antiva with you still roaming the land."

"That's not reassuring." The blade stung. Blood began to drip, very slowly.

"You are worried that I might try again? You needn't. I'm already guilty at the eyes of the guild, they won't let this pass."

"And neither should I."

"Just kill him!" The elf snapped.

"If we set him free, he could very well try again. Regain the favour of his masters."

"Fuck the masters!" Zevran didn't know he was going to say that until the words were already out of his mouth. He was shocked, he'd never… it had sounded like a bark, but of course he was just a dog and even those people could see it. The dwarven woman could see it, but apparently she also could see other things because the knife slowly let go of his bruised skin.

"What can you do?"

It took Zevran a couple of seconds to recover from his outburst before answering. "I can fight, I'm not really that bad, I was pretending… I wished to… never mind. I am a trained assassin, I am skilled with poisons, traps, locks, emotional manipulation –ah… yes, I'm being honest here I promise-, blackmailing… I could warm your bed if you prefer. No? Alright then… I can also stand around and look pretty, you'll have to give me that won't you?"

"Don't push your luck, crow."

Fair enough.

The dwarf stood up, finally, and looked at him like he was a cockroach she'd just step on. "Keep your friends close…" And the links to your enemies closer. "Wynne, Iola, patch him up. We need to get away from this place, fast."

"What? You're not seriously thinking about bringing him along?"

"And why not? Look at us, Alistair." That shut him up. "Sten, Alistair, Leliana, look around for anything useful and pack up. Morrigan you do your thing, Mahariel behind you."

The dark skinned elf –face all inked, reeking pride, probably dalish- looked down at Zevran, and the despise was clear in his eyes, but he gave him a slow, small nod, not quite approving, but not quite hostile either. "Fuck the masters." He repeated.

Ah, so improvising was really his thing. Guts 1, brain 0.

Aaaaaand Zevran joins the team! I honestly didn't look up the dialogue in the game, I just went with my heart and the things I remembered.

One translation this time:

Si potrebbe morire: you could die

Thank you to all of you who are still reading this and special thanks as always to the people that left reviews. I encourage every italian out there to come and correct antivan :*

I want to dedicate this chapter to my favourite Zevran hater: FalconHawk 3