Another song, Evanescence this time.

Chapter 21

So Close

Very much to her surprise, the common room was almost empty despite the early hour. Only one person was sitting by the fire, staring into the flames. 'Zev?' she prompted, and he jumped to his feet in alarm. 'Not quite your attentive self today, are you?' she teased as she approached.

'I tried practising,' he said. 'I'm now successfully better with my left arm than my right, and that's not because it has improved so much.'

'You didn't move your arm in a while, you'll be good,' Núria said sincerely. 'Look, I brought fruit. I thought you'd be in the Pearl, to be honest.' Zevran grinned.

'I tried the Wonders of Thedas,' he replied. 'I always thought it must be a whorehouse, but there are only those scary insipid mages in there, so I fled and decided one failed attempt was enough per day.' He glanced at Núria's basked and took a ripe apple.

'Insipid mages, Zev?' Núria echoed with a small smile. Zevran chuckled.

'Oghren calls them that,' he replied. 'Tranquil, then.' Núria managed a laugh, but it sounded slightly hysterical. Zevran frowned at her. 'You look like you saw a ghost. What happened out there? Did Morrigan do something?' Núria blinked.

'So obvious?' she asked. 'Not Morrigan.' She held the note out to Zevran. He looked from the words on the paper to her face.

'So what will you do?' he asked.

'What should I do, you tell me,' Núria said more sharply than she had intended. Zevran sighed. He sat down again and motioned to her to do the same.

'If I were you,' he said slowly, pulling her close to him, 'I would go and see them. Wait what they have to say, and kill them if you don't like it. I do however think it might be good if you let me come too.'

'I'm not sure if that's such a brilliant idea,' Núria replied. 'They want you dead, remember?' Zevran gave a soft huff.

'Trust me, my lovely Warden, it won't make a difference,' he said lightly. 'They know who you are, and they knew who you're travelling with from the moment you set foot into Denerim. There is a whole gang of them here, led by one Master Ignacio. I bet anything you talked to one of his people without knowing it.' Núria burst into maniacal laughter. For a few seconds Zevran merely stared at her, looking mildly worried. 'If you're done, would you tell me what exactly is so amusing?'

'Oh, Zev, you're mistaken,' she managed, wiping tears from her face. 'He talked to me in person, your Ignacio.' Zevran nodded slowly.

'Well, even more so, we should talk to him,' he said. 'No, don't you try and leave me somewhere behind, not in this case. I told you I could warn you if they should try anything, but for that you must take me to him.' For a moment he glanced at his apple. 'If I think they're leading you into a trap, I'll let you know, mi amora.' He blinked, taken aback by his own words. He continued hastily. 'If not, you can work for him. It wouldn't be so unusual that someone works for the Crows even if they don't belong to them. You might even get paid decently.' Núria wondered for a moment if she should ask what he had called her, but then she decided against it. He had called a number of things, ever since the Brecilian Forest it was mostly some variety of 'Warden'. As far as she was concerned, this might have been the Antivan word for it.

'Very well,' she said. 'We'll go there tomorrow. I would also like to see the alienage, but the gate was closed. I doubt if we can go there at the moment.' Zevran took her hand.

'If the gates are locked to you, my beautiful woman, we will find another way in,' he said gently and placed a tender kiss on her lips.

The next morning Núria and Zevran set out early to meet Ignacio. Wynne and Alistair would meet up with them later. The mage had asked if they could look for the man called Vilhm Madon, and when Núria had agreed, she had asked Alistair to help her find the exact place. They would meet back at the market to pay him a visit together.

Núria felt certainly apprehensive as she stepped through the door to where Ignacio would be waiting. Zevran's presence did a lot to comfort her, though. 'You here about a note?' Ignacio asked as soon as the door had closed behind them. 'Maybe we have things we can talk about.' Zevran crossed his arms and stepped next to Núria, half a step before her.

'Just see that the conversation stays civil,' he said conversationally. 'If this is a trap …' Ignacio eyed Zevran with an almost disgusted look.

'Zevran, is it?' he asked. 'You are Taliesen's responsibility. Other Crows may try to kill you, but in my eyes, you're already dead. So you are of no notice. But the Warden here, she's of great interest to me.' Núria suppressed her anger at the way this man talked to Zevran. He had warned her before they had entered the tavern that Ignacio might not be very friendly with him, and that she should try to understand that in his eyes, he was a traitor.

'You were hired to kill me,' she said simply. Ignacio shook his head.

'I can't stress enough that I wasn't hired to do anything,' he said firmly. 'An associate was, and he has failed - and failed badly.'

'I'd like to see you do any better,' Zevran muttered.

'Do you take me for a fool?' Ignacio asked angrily. 'That's a contract I'd never take.' He cleared his throat. 'A client can always hire more … help. If the job isn't done the first time. But I'm hoping we can make sure that doesn't happen.'

'Is that true, Zev?' Núria asked.

'I've only heard of the one time the entire House of Crows was hired for a job. A princely sum changed hands, and an entire noble family died. Not one soul survived. Ignacio has the right of it. Generally, it is one master, one job.' Núria nodded.

'Very well then, I'm listening,' she said to Ignacio.

'Ferelden is a busy place,' he began and started walking up and down the small room. 'Blight, civil war, other mayhem. Lots of people not getting along. Sometimes, they really don't get along. Maybe want to do something about it. The people that handle that sort of thing can get real busy.' Núria looked at him in amazement, wondering at what the slightly defeated looking merchant had become.

'So you're hiring help?' she asked with a small smile.

'You could say that,' Ignacio replied, stopping his pacing and looking firmly at her. 'Not many people we can turn to. So someone that's crossed our path and lived … well, maybe they could help out. Make some coin. Everyone wins.'

'How does this work, then?' Núria inquired, intrigued. Ignacio smiled.

'I hand you a scroll,' he told her. 'You read it, you learn about someone interesting. If you find out something happens to him, something unfortunate, then if we talk again, I give you money for … letting me know. You don't like what's on the scroll, don't do anything. Maybe he has an accident and someone else tells me about it.'

'Money, right?' Núria asked. 'What about no more Crows coming after me?'

'That I cannot do,' Ignacio said firmly. 'One master has a contract on you. But if you help us out, maybe if that master asks for help he'll just get silence, yes?' Núria nodded.

'Good enough for me,' she said. 'Hand me the scroll then.' Ignacio produced it from a chest behind him and handed it to her with a flourish.

'There you go,' he said, all merchant again in his tone and demeanour. 'Makes for fine reading.'

'You're a cautious little weasel, Ignacio,' Zevran said with a slight frown. 'What's your angle? If you're playing us false …'

'My dance is not for you,' Ignacio told him disdainfully. 'I need to be real … honest sometimes. And I can say I haven't asked anyone to do anything. I've just given someone something interesting to read.'

'And you think that will save your hide when they nail it to a wall?' Zevran asked with an amused expression.

'You're already dead in my eyes, whoreson,' Ignacio spat at him. 'Take care I don't learn otherwise.' He turned to Núria. 'If that's all, luck be to you,' he said with a note of finality. Before she could yell at him for the way he had spoken to Zevran she felt herself being steered out.

'Never kill an employer before he has paid you, my Grey Warden,' Zevran whispered in her ear.

The scroll said that a man called Paedan was to be found in the Pearl. A copy of a poster had gone with the scroll, saying something about friends of the Grey Wardens and that the griffons would rise again. They met Alistair and Wynne near the market and informed them of where they were heading. Alistair told them that in that case Vilhm Madon seemed to be on their way. He led them through small alleys to a locked door. Wynne glanced at a point further on in the alley.

'He still there?' Alistair asked softly. Wynne shrugged.

'I cannot see from here, but I think so,' she replied. Núria frowned.

'Who's where?' she enquired. Alistair shrugged.

'No idea,' he said. 'Some man, standing there like a statue and glaring at passers by. Never said a word, just stood there. I say, don't mind him, maybe he got his hands on some lyrium somehow and fried his brain with it.' Wynne knocked the door firmly. No one answered, but there was clearly light inside.

'I'm here for Gaxkang, and I am not going to leave,' the mage said firmly, and the door unlocked. Núria stepped through first.

'Grey Warden, isn't it?' a man in a mage's robe greeted them. 'Strange you would force such a visit in a time of Blight. I suppose I'm used to inspiring a different kind of seeker.'

'Your stories attract them, and then they disappear,' Wynne said angrily, and the man chuckled.

'The adequate ones find the beacons, and then I find them,' he replied, looking at Núria with an almost greedy expression. 'But you … you're already brighter than the signal at Ishal. Eyes are on you from a very high vantage, Grey Warden. I cannot hide in your wake, but I will not be a footnote! Witness Gaxkang!'

Before their very eyes, the man drifted into the air a few inches and dissolved. 'Not such a thing again,' Núria said in slight desperation. Alistair launched himself at the undead mage, and Núria hurried to get behind him. She waited for a few moments, letting Alistair get his full attention. She really didn't want to have that glare on her.

'So the lesson of today is that knocking a door can be just as dangerous as kicking a tombstone,' Zevran quipped. Wynne was firing spells at him, keeping an eye out for Alistair at the same time.

'Alistair, hold out for a moment,' the mage said and closed her eyes in concentration. A moment later, the Horror sunk to the floor, suddenly more solid.

'What did you turn him into a revenant for?' Alistair asked loudly.

'I didn't,' Wynne said defensively, looking confused.

'No matter, at least I feel I'm hitting something,' Zevran shouted at her over Alistair and Gaxkang's fighting noise. With a yell, he started hacking at the thing, his movements almost too fast to follow. It was too good an effort. The revenant rounded on him, and he backed into a wall. 'Whoa, let's not get out of hand here,' he said, ducking a blow from the creature before ramming his sword into its side under its arm. Alistair swung his sword down onto the revenant's head at the same moment, and it fell to the floor. Zevran wiped blood from his weapon and glanced at Wynne. 'You should work on that. If you could transform our enemies into sheep or something similar it might help. Please do not turn every small Genlock into a revenant if you can help it, though.' Wynne glared at him.

'I didn't transform him,' she said angrily, leaving the house with a disgusted backwards glance. 'I only tried to stop him from casting spells. Apparently he needed energy to uphold the form of the horror so I forced him to transform.'

'Could you transform people into things?' Núria asked bemused. 'They say that … "If you're not good and eat your soup, a mage will come and transform you into a toad." Or something similar … Oi, who're you, up there?' A man had been sitting on top of a flight of stairs and jumped to his feet when he saw them, his hand on the hilt of his sword. She saw Zevran almost trip over his own feet as he saw him and got worried. The man on the stairs grinned down at her.

'And here is the mighty Grey Warden at long last,' he said. 'The Crows send their greetings, once again.' Núria stiffened and glanced at Zevran to ask him if he believed that Ignacio had sent the man. But Zevran wasn't looking at her. His eyes rested on the man above them and there was a hard look on his face she had only seen at their first encounter, when he had gestured to his accomplices to attack.

'So they sent you, Taliesen,' he concluded, and Núria searched her head for information she had about him … He had been the one with whom Zevran had worked … the man he had told to kill Rinna. Well, it explained why he looked so outright dangerous. 'Or did you volunteer for the job?' The man laughed.

'I volunteered, of course,' he said. 'When I heard that the great Zevran had gone rogue, I simply had to see it for myself.' His voice was taunting, and Núria started to hate this impertinent person.

'Is that so?' Zevran asked. He continued with a slight frown. 'Well here I am, in the flesh.' Taliesen made one step down.

'You can return with me, Zevran,' he said beseechingly. 'I know why you did this, and I don't blame you. It's not too late. Come back and we'll make up a story. Anyone can make a mistake.' Núria watched Zevran's face, bracing herself for his training kicking in. His features were cold and set, eyes fixed on Taliesen. Fear gripped at her. Would she even be able to hurt him if he turned on her now, or would she allow him to slaughter her like a lamb, or die at his feet, begging, like Rinna?

'Of course I'd need to be dead, first,' she said, her voice loud enough to carry to Taliesen, but with a slight quaver it didn't normally possess. Zevran blinked and looked at her as he drew his weapons. His glance turned back to Taliesen, who was wearing a triumphant grin.

'And I'm not about to let that happen,' Zevran said calmly. Núria was so relieved she felt dizzy. At the same time she was angry at herself for believing even for the fraction of a second that Zevran would attack her. Taliesen's grin, meanwhile, had died on his face.

'What?' he made. 'You've gone soft!' Anger flared in Zevran's eyes.

'I'm sorry my old friend,' he said firmly. 'But the answer is no. I'm not coming back … and you should have stayed in Antiva.' At a shout from Taliesen, more assassins left their hiding places in the alley, and Núria did her best to dispatch them with Alistair. Zevran had run up the stairs to face Taliesen himself, and they were locked in a deadly duel. It was all Núria could do not to enter the fray, but she realised she would not have been able to tell who she hit. She had never seen two people fight more bitterly, nor faster. They were a blur of weapons, she couldn't tell if one of them had landed a blow at all, as they were both extremely quick. Then a gasp of pain came, and her heart clenched for a horrible moment, before she watched Taliesen fall to the floor, blood gushing from his side. Zevran jumped after him and cut his throat in one quick motion.

As he stepped down the stairs, he looked like a god of war. His armour was stained in blood, his hair was dishevelled, and his breath ragged. He sheathed his sword with one fluid motion and stood before Núria, the hard, angry look on his face slowly melting into a tired smile. 'And there it is,' he said. 'Taliesen is dead, and I am free of the Crows. They will assume that I am dead along with Taliesen. So long as I do not make my presence known to them, they will not seek me out.'

'That's a good thing, right?' Núria asked carefully. Zevran grinned.

'A very good thing,' he agreed. 'It is, in fact, what I had hoped for ever since you decided not to kill me. I suppose it would be possible for me to leave, now, if I wished. I could go far away, somewhere where the Crows would never find me.' And nor would I, Núria thought, her heart beating somewhere in her throat. 'I think, however, that I could also stay here. I made an oath to help you, after all. And saving the world seems a worthy task to see through to the end, yes?' Núria swallowed. She was certainly not going to hold him to the oath, no matter how intriguing the idea was.

'If you want to leave, you should,' she said, forcing her voice not to crack.

'But that is what I am asking you,' Zevran insisted. 'Do you want me to go? Do you need me here?' Maker, yes, I do need you, you can't leave!

'I hereby release you from your oath,' she said softly. 'Do … what you choose, Zev. You're a free man.' She managed a slightly watery smile, and saw that he stood stock still, looking somewhere between confused and overwhelmed.

'I … am not sure how to respond to that,' he muttered. 'Nobody has ever … I mean, normally these things are decided by others.' He blinked twice, then fixed his gaze on her with such an intent look that she felt the ground falling away under her feet. 'Er … then I suppose I shall … stay? Is that … good?' Núria beamed at him.

'If that is what you want, this is not only good, it's glorious,' she breathed. Zevran smiled back at her before he rummaged in his things and produced something that had to be small, since it was hidden in his hand.

'Here,' he said, holding a small earring out to her. It was made of red gold, unless she was very much mistaken, and graced by a violet jewel. 'It seems an appropriate moment to give you this.' Núria grinned.

'Oh?' she made. 'Will that mean we're married in Antiva?' Zevran threw his head back and laughed.

'Let's hope hot!' he said. 'I acquired it on my very first job for the Crows. A Rivaini merchant prince, and he was wearing a single, jewelled earring when I killed him. In fact, that was about all he was wearing.' Núria grinned. 'I thought it was beautiful and took it to mark the occasion. I've kept it since … and I'd like you to have it.' Núria stared at the offering.

'I … Oh, wow, who would have thought that,' she said softly.

'Don't get the wrong idea about it,' Zevran told her in a light tone. 'You killed Taliesen. As far as the Crows will be concerned, I died with him. That means I'm free, at least for now. Feel free to sell it, or wear it … or whatever you'd like. It's really the least I could give you in return.'

'Technically, you killed Taliesen,' Núria said slowly, her eyes still resting on the small metal item. She had never possessed any jewellery that was worth half so much. It would be very easy to just take it and make him grin at her and continue. Wynne and Alistair were talking about something insignificant away from them, and she supposed the mage had led him away from them on purpose. Zevran raised his eyebrows, and she looked up at his face. 'So … not a token of affection, then?' she asked softly. Zevran closed his eyes for a moment.

'I … look, just … just take it,' he stuttered. 'It's meant a lot to me, but so have … so has what you've done. Please take it.' Núria frowned. If he believed she had not realised what had almost come out of his mouth, he was sorely mistaken. She reached out for his hand, but only to close his fingers around the earring.

'I will take it, but only if it means something,' she said firmly. A glint of impatience entered Zevran's face, and she felt an immense wave of satisfaction paired with regret. He jerked his hand back from her.

'You are a very frustrating woman to deal with, do you know that?' Zevran asked, and she tried at an easy smile, hoping to save this conversation before it crashed to the flagged street beneath their feet.

'Yes, well, that's what you get for hanging around with a rogue,' she said lightly, but Zevran shook his head and glared at her.

'We pick up every other bit of treasure we come across, but not this,' he said heatedly. 'You don't want the earring? You don't get the earring. Very simple.' Núria could see he was hurt, but she couldn't help him there. She called out to Wynne and Alistair and led them on into the Pearl.

Zevran didn't say a word during the fight with Paedan or when they reported back to Ignacio. They were sent just outside the city to dispatch a group of Qunari mercenaries, then to free a boy who had been kidnapped by Arl Howe. In the end, Ignacio offered Núria to visit Antiva one day for more jobs. She shrugged him off with a laugh, but in truth, she just wanted to be shot of him. For a moment she considered killing him, but then she just told him that their business was done and left. Zevran's stubborn silence was getting to her, and if they stayed out in the city for much longer she would grab him and shake some sense into him. At Eamon's estate, she assumed Zevran would run off without a word, but instead he pulled her into an embrace and thanked her for freeing him.

'You … you need not thank me, Zev,' she replied slightly breathlessly and feeling marginally guilty.

'No, I do have to,' he insisted. 'I am simply not accustomed to the customs that come with our … arrangement. In the Crows, we do not have friends, and yet here you are, and I cannot help consider you as such.'

'Zev, you're more than a friend to me,' Núria said before she could stop herself. Instead of turning away from her, as she had expected, Zevran smiled at her.

'I … must admit that I have thought of you in the same way,' he said softly. 'I simply had no idea you might feel the same. How very novel.' Núria leaned into his embrace and kissed him.

'Do you want to come with me?' she asked softly, caressing his cheek. 'Remember, there's a bed in my room, like in Orzammar, only bigger.' Zevran tensed and took a step away from her.

'No, I … No,' he said, looking almost scared. 'I mean no offence, I simply … No.' Núria frowned slightly.

'Are you all right?' she asked. Zevran frowned.

'I do not wish to talk about it,' he said firmly, taking another step backwards and bumping into the wall behind him.

'Oh, well, then maybe you think we should end this altogether?' Núria asked angrily, cursing herself for her quick tongue the moment the words were out.

'If that is what you wish,' Zevran replied, no emotion showing on his features.

'I asked you first,' Núria said, very softly, her eyes somewhere near his shoulder. How could things just go so wrong?

'Let us not play this game, shall we?' Zevran asked, sounding much less angry than before, and she dared look up again. 'There are other things for you to focus on besides me, I am certain. Do … do those.' Núria glared at him.

'You have some nerve calling me frustrating,' she said angrily and marched off into her room alone.