All copyrighted stuff belongs to Bioware, the rest of the weirdness is mine

They had to return to Ostagar. The wounded deserter they'd encounter three scant days after leaving the Keep makes that all too clear. Unfortunately an attack by mercenaries hired to dispose of Leliana eradicate any chance of that until Marjolaine can be dealt with. That means sneaking into the belly of the beast itself. Denerim.

Of course things couldn't go smoothly, as they encounter a band of refugees needing aid along the way. Gabriel's quick mind is what gives them the idea to escort the fearful peasants to Denerim and hide amongst the throng to avoid detection by the city guard..

This series of events is how Lynx finds herself squashed into the noisy, filthy capitol of Ferelden. Instead of grumbling though, she opts to glare down at Morrigan and Jowan, who are safely tucked into their less conspicuous canine forms.

The day before, she'd had the misfortune of meeting Alistair's money grubbing sister Goldanna—who conveniently won't be a problem for him later on because she and Zevran had spent the night making the bitch disappear-then burned an entire afternoon away running errands for a Grey Warden sympathizer by the name of Sergeant Kylon in exchange for a nice bag of coins and a place to rest.

Today's task, Marjolaine and her band of embarrassingly ill trained guardians, had been settled in an efficient-if not brutal-manner. After leaving Gabriel, Alistair, and the grieving bard behind to rest, she, Zevran, and the three canines make the trek to the Pearl in hopes of gathering new information...and find a woman named Isabella instead. Lynx had to skip out on the end of that talk before the murdered the voluptuous pirate captain for being so friendly with her assassin.

Feelings of hurt, jealousy, and the desire to mark her territory confuse and irritate the elf blood as she escapes into the maze of alleys, the canines trailing after her.

On their way back to the inn, they suddenly find themselves staring down over a dozen Crows with a human rogue at the lead.

"Where is Zevran?" the new arrival demands, his hands lazily resting on the pommels of his weapons, after he introduces himself.

"Hmm, Zevran you say? I don't think I've ever heard the name," the hedge mage responds without batting an eye, "Is this Zevran your mabari or something?"

Talisen gives her a poisonous grin, "Or something. Do you know who I represent apostate?"

"Someone who has been hit with the ugly stick a few too many times?" she chuckles in spite of the alarmed looks her fellow mages are directing her way.

Oddly enough, the thug laughs with her, then lets out a woeful sigh, "I like your spirit ragazza feroce, it is truly a shame that I must kill you."

"It is a shame, I'll hate to be dead," Lynx quips, aware that the circle of assassins is tightening around them, "If Zevran chooses to go with you, I will not stop you. But if you try to take him by force, I will tear you apart."

Talisen nods respectfully, "I understand this mia cara, that is why you must die first. Now, please tell me where he is, so fewer of your companions have to die with you."

"I am here Talisen," the elf's honeyed accent rings through the square just as he saunters into view, "You should have stayed in Antiva, my old friend."

The other Crow looks him over, then his smile grows to ridiculous proportions, "It is time for you to come home, mi amore, where you belong. You have made a mistake and I forgive you. All you must do now is complete your contract, then we can make up whatever story we wish and things will be right as rain."

"I'm not as easy to kill as you think," Lynx counters, silently relieved that no one thought to prevent the canines from leaving. Hurry up guys. "How do you think someone like me managed to sway a Crow of Zevran's caliber to my cause in the first place?"

"Truly?" the man's eyes momentarily flit to the one in question, "Do Grey Wardens pay better then we Zevran, or are they simply better in bed?"

"Both," the apostate cackles for the enemies benefit, "But I prefer my bed warmers with slanted ears that I can get a nice grip on rather than your big floppy round ones-personal preference and all that- so I won't be offering you a job any time soon. So sorry."

"You're a mouthy little mageling, aren't you?" he inquires with noticeably less humor than earlier, "He always did enjoy that kind. I think Rinna would have agreed with that assessment, right Zevran?"

"Rinna is dead and gone Talisen," Zevran flatly responds, his ears slightly twitching at an echoing bark that each ally recognizes, "Though I think she will soon have your company to share."

The man's smile evaporates completely at those words and is replaced with a cruel grimace.

"Kill them. I want Zevr-"

He gets no chance to say more as his throat sprouts an arrow and familiar faces come pouring in, causing a melee to spontaneously erupt.

Being so evenly matched, the companions are left bone weary as they strip the Crows of anything useful and quit the dank square.

Lynx strives to talk to her lover as they slip into the old Grey Warden supply warehouse they'd found while seeking Marjolaine, but he stonewalls her at every turn and eventually disappears up on to the gabled roof, claiming a need to take watch. He still hasn't returned by the time Lynx surrenders to a much needed nap.

Day fades into night. Night melts into day. He is no longer on the roof when she brings him a plate of food. Two days and nights she searches to no avail. Near the end of the second night is when she flounders upon him as he reclines on the roof of a wharf side tannery.

Without a sound, she digs into her satchel and pulls out a pair of boots. He says nothing, but stares inquisitively as she drops them into his lap and takes a seat at his right.

His nostrils flare almost comically as the aroma of genuine Antivan leather wafts through the air and he gingerly picks each one up to examine them. Lynx pretends not to notice the gleeful smile on his face as he promptly chucks his well worn boots into the water and slowly eases his feet into the new footwear.

After about an hour, she retrieves a tobacco pipe from her bag, packs the bowl, then lights it. After she takes a long draw, she passes it to her morose lover. "Are you okay?"

"Not yet. Be patient with me this once dea and I shall not fail you," he murmurs before raising the pipe to his lips.

"I'll hold you to that."

Translation

ragazza feroce- fierce girl