Chapter 37
Zevran walked at a brisk pace, Isabela ahead of him as she led him down to the docks. He felt uneasy, a tugging at his breast as if he should have followed the dark elf. Shaking the doubt from his mind, he scolded himself for hesitating and focused on the woman in front of him. Isabela glanced over her shoulder to make sure she he was still following as she weaved through the maze of alleys.
"You don't even want to say goodbye? He won't take it too lightly for you just leaving like this." Isabela asked. Zevran scowled, hefting his pack higher up on his shoulder. He regretted having lost Howl's mabari several years ago. The loyal hound had died protecting him from the guild master of the Crows.
"And how would that benefit either of us? Fenris is a man fleeing from his past which nips at his heels every day. I seek to change the ways of the guild and thus anger the Crows. What room is there for us to be together?" Zevran snapped at her vehemently. At this Isabela fell back to look him right in the eye. The blasted woman was far too good at reading the emotions of men.
"A lot considering that's the weakest excuse I've ever heard from an Antivan Crow."
"I am no longer a Crow."
"You still think of yourself as a bloody Crow and you know it!"
"Ah, on that count perhaps you are right my dear. One does not so easily forget a lifetime of learning various ways to kill people."
"Exactly. Besides, is there really such a huge difference from fleeing one's past and running away from a memory?" Isabela pressed.
At this, Zevran felt his grin go slack at the question. He shifted his hazel gaze from her to focus on the stained stones of the alley. They were streaked with filth he didn't even want to begin to study too closely. Fenris had made it clear he had wanted him to leave. And yet…why did he hesitate to keep moving forward? To continue on the path he had chosen for himself away from Ferelden?
Back in Denerim, Palen filled in his role as the widower of the late Hero. They looked so similar no one would know the difference between the two unless they stood side by side. Palen had even learned to mimic his accent thus completing the disguise as the new Baron and adviser to King Alistair. Though Palen's advice leaned more towards several ways to please a partner in bed rather than how to rule a country.
Howl would have been a great help to Alistair if he still lived. No doubt, Zevran mused, Howl would come to him every time he had a problem like he always did. Asking him for advice, what was his opinion on this so-and-so political matter? When was the best time to plant, early spring or early summer? In winter was it wasteful to light the fire and keep it fed when one wasn't even in the room? Had he read this latest novel published by a little known author?
Why had Howl bothered to trust him? What was it about him, the person who had tried to kill him, that Howl had been attracted to? At first, Zevran had assumed it was merely a physical desire to share his bed. Then he began to wonder if Howl simply enjoyed the company of another elf in the group. Then, later, Zevran found himself amused at Howl's antics. How clueless the elven mage was when it came to life. How touching it was to see so pure a soul helping out another simply out of goodwill rather than a reward.
After Howl had died, Zevran had wished he could be turned Tranquil. To simply wander about in the world in a state of bliss unable to comprehend pain or suffering from other people. Always able to think logically no matter the circumstances. After leaving to follow Sten, Zevran had met Howl's family. They had been excited to meet him, welcoming him as one of their own.
It had been a strange time, spending a year with people whom he knew his lover had been with for a short time of his life. Howl's mother had been a firecracker always going toe to toe to anyone who dared to try and give her orders. Her husband was quiet and stoic, too busy working the fields to bother to think overly much. He was a highly intelligent man, however, once commenting to Zevran how he admired his son's ability to connect with people.
Sten had, surprisingly, been adopted by Howl's younger twin sisters whom had been born shortly after he had been taken to the Circle. They were seven years old and one day had begun to call Sten "grandpa" after a few days of the Qunari helping their father around the farm. Zevran remembered laughing himself to tears seeing a seven year old elven girl instructing the huge warrior on how to make a proper daisy chain. Sten watched over and protected them and seemed content with his "role".
Zevran had left since he couldn't stand to be around them after a while. While it was nice to experience living with a family, he didn't feel as if he truly belonged. It was funny how his skills as an assassin were so unsuited to daily life or making a living among common folk. When he had last checked on them, Sten and the family were living comfortably on a huge estate they have moved to out in the country.
What would have Howl done were he here right now? What advice would the mage give him if he had asked for it? What answer, Zevran wondered, would he have received had he pressed the mage to answer?
You just seemed so sad, Howl's voice echoed eerily in his head.
I wanted to see you smile. Fenris made you smile too, Zevran. He is happy when you're with him. Why would you leave someone who cared about you?
Zevran stopped in the middle of the alley, blinking unnecessarily. Howl was dead, he was never coming back. So why, for a moment, had he felt as if the mage stood right next to him? He glanced to his right side expecting to see bright blue eyes gazing at him. Instead he saw Isabela giving him a curious look, asking silently why he had stopped. Zevran clenched his fist, imagining himself holding a slim hand, stained with ink from writing in a journal now stowed safely in his pack.
"Do you know where Fenris went to meet his sister?" Zevran asked with a tired sigh. Isabela raised a brow at him, but he spotted a smile twitching at the corner of her mouth as she nodded towards the main street.
"The Hanged Man, of course. Come on, let's go before you change your mind."
…
Varania avoided looking directly at her brother as Danarius began to lead Fenris out of the seedy inn. The look Fenris had given his friend was heart breaking to watch. She had heard how Hawke had befriended her brother and even offered to help him kill the magister. She, too, secretly wished Danarius could be killed, but there was no other way. She needed to survive in this harsh world and becoming a magister would insure she never had to worry about scraping enough coin together to eat for the day. One day, Varania hoped, she would be able to free Leto from the chains that bound him. Until then, however, this was the best thing for him.
"How could you, Hawke?" Merrill said, her voice rising in panic as she saw Fenris so easily give in to his forced captivity. Anders turned to quiet her just as a familiar voice rang through the inn.
"You boys aren't even going to stay to have a pint? Shame, I was hoping for some company." Isabela said, appearing in the open doorway of the Hanged Man. She leaned casually on the frame appearing to clean her nails with one of her daggers. Fenris glanced at her in surprise as behind him Danarius's face began to splotch as he turned red glaring at the scantily dressed woman.
"Hawke, what is the meaning of this? You said no one knew we would be here!"
"I'm sorry, Magister, just let me-" Hawke began, but was cut off by a scream. As one everyone's head turned to see what the noise was about just as one of Danarius's men fell down the stairs. Standing at the top silhouetted against the pale light was a figure with a dagger in his hand, dripping with fresh blood as he clucked his tongue.
"Shame on you, Hawke. We help our friends, not enslave them." Zevran said with a sigh as if Hawke were a wayward child. Hawke's face went pale as he raised his staff, magic surging to his fingertips. He let out a shout and fire shot from the end of his staff towards the golden haired elf. Fenris felt his heart skip a beat, panicking that Zevran would meet an early demise.
The entire time he had known the elf, Fenris had forgotten one thing. Zevran was an assassin, and a former Antivan Crow. One moment the tanned elf was there, the next moment the stairs were scorched and smoking from the wave of flame. In the next instant, two more of Danarius's guards went down clutching their throats futilely, their fingers slick with blood as it poured from their gaping wounds.
Danarius let out a shout, ordering his guards to take down to the two new fighters. All at once the place erupted into chaos, Hawke and Anders trying to subdue the two without killing. Merrill as well began casting spells managing to freeze a guard who had been standing next to Fenris. Letting out a war cry Fenris activated his markings, drawing Mercy to cut down any who dared to try and subdue him.
He didn't hesitate to cut a path towards Zevran who was expertly dodging any blow aimed his way. It was almost as if the assassin were dancing as he easily slipped behind a guard and seemed bored as he stabbed the assailant in the back of the neck. Fenris smirked, turning his attention on another guard foolish enough to challenge him who quickly went down in a fountain of his own blood. Behind him he felt a slight pressure to his back and Zevran moved to press his back to his.
"I told you to wait at the mansion did I not?" Fenris growled, lowering Mercy in favor of driving his fist through the chest of another guard. The man began to choke and sputter going down with a gasp as his heart was crushed. Zevran snorted, expertly whirling a knife around and throwing it, bringing down another man who clawed at the knife now protruding from his eye socket.
"So you did, but I've been told I'm very bad at taking orders. You should have tied me to the bed like you did the first time, no? Tis so boring without someone to share it with, Lord Fenris." Zevran answered. The assassin ducked underneath Fenris's arm to slash at the legs of another guard whirling an axe above his head. Before the man could attack, he fell to his knees a shocked expression on his face as his newly cut tendons in his legs gave out. Fenris jammed a glowing fist through the man's skull causing blood to stream out of an open mouth as the man fell back into the fray, dead. He stepped into the open space feeling Zevran fall back into step behind him in synchronized step.
"Do you truly mean that? Or are you referring to how I left you unsatisfied earlier on the table?"
"On the contrary, returning to a warm body desiring your touch? Quite a meal to consume by one's self if I'm not mistaken." Zevran purred, without missing a beat. Fenris jerked around to stare at the assassin, ignoring a near miss to his head by a wayward sword. Zevran narrowed his eyes in annoyance, reaching out to stab his dagger into the man's throat with a flick of his wrist. Wrenching it free as the attacker went down dead before he hit the ground.
"Really? At a time like this?" Fenris hissed into his new lover's pointed ear as he stepped past him to take down another foe. A low chuckle was his answer as they traded positions.
"Yes, really." A teasing voice answered, clearly amused by the darker elf.
Fenris was distracted when it happened. He didn't see as both Hawke and Danarius raised their hands, completely unaware of one another. He had begun to turn to tell Zevran to go back up the stairs, to leave through the back to find Varric to help them flee the city. Fenris did see as each mage cast a different spell completely unaware the other had cast at the same time. Saw twin bolts of energy hit Zevran square in the chest, flinging him across the room to hit the far wall. Zevran's eyes widened in shock, his mouth falling open as if he meant to utter a cry of surprise or make a joke. Fenris felt the thin snap of a chain as Zevran's necklace caught on the edge of his armor as the smaller elf was thrown back away from his side.
"Be careful! You almost hit him!"
"I was trying to subdue him for you! Your attack hit the other elf just as mine did!" Hawke snarled back at Danarius. Fenris turned around as if in a dream to face his long standing comrade. Memories of fighting at Hawke's side, of pulling him back from the brink of destroying himself when the mage ventured to far into battle. No one but Fenris knew how Hawke lost himself in casting his spells. How the blood lust of battle pounded through his veins to blind him to any dangers around him.
Fenris went for Hawke first. The mage glanced almost casually in his direction, alarm not yet apparent in his features. It was almost like every other time when Fenris would walk up to his old friend, grab him by the shoulder and fling him back towards Anders. Screaming profanities for the foolish man to be aware of his surroundings and to stay back where it was safe to cast. It wasn't until he was almost upon him, tattoos shimmering to life that Hawke began to try and retreat.
Fenris slashed out his metal gauntlets wicked claws as he aimed for Hawke's heart. Anders had reached out, grabbing the mage by the back of his robes and yanking him back with a sharp cry of alarm. Hawke began to fall back just as Fenris's hand disappeared into his chest near his heart. Hawke's entire body arched with the pain, a scream of agony ripping from his throat as he fell back on top of the blond mage behind him. Anders and Hawke fell, sprawled across the floor, Hawke gasping and clawing at his chest as if he couldn't breathe. Anders underneath him clawing for purchase as he tried to get back on his feet to protect them both.
Fenris kicked Hawke in the ribs for good measure watching with mixed feelings as the man curled up on himself turning away from him. Anders sputtered still trying to push himself up. Fenris hefted his sword up, hesitating as he saw shuddering breaths rack through the mage's body. His instincts screamed for him to turn his back and to protect the mage. To forgive Hawke betraying him and allow him to rise once again to help him.
"I enjoyed fighting at your side. Next time we meet, Hawke, I will not nick your heart but tear it from your chest and devour it." Fenris said, not recognizing the snarl in his own voice. With that, he turned his back to the mage, focusing on Danarius.
Varania cowered near the stairs, her hand covering her mouth in horror as Fenris turned on the magister. Danarius's eyes flickered in the direction of his former slave, seeming to register the fact that all of his men were either dead or dying around him. His eyes glanced at the curled heap of Hawke, Anders bent over him hands glowing blue as he desperately tried to heal the damage Fenris had caused to his heart. Merrill stood only a few feet away, hands raised threateningly eyes narrowed ready to tear the mage down should he rise again. At her side was Isabela, daggers at her sides but watching Danarius with a wary eye should he choose to intervene.
"You're outnumbered, Danarius." Fenris snarled beginning to draw closer to his former master. He salivated at the thought of tearing out the magister's heart imagining the delicate muscle easily giving away as he wrapped his fist around it and crushed it.
Fenris.
At first he thought it was only his imagination. A voice echoing in his head from some distant memory in his past as he reached for his vengeance. Only the suddenly confused looks of Isabela, Merrill, and Danarius looking for the source of the voice did it occur to him they were all hearing things.
Zevran is dying.
Fenris heeded the voice this time, remembering Zevran stepping into the path of the spells. He spun on his heel cursing the foolish assassin for protecting him when he should have ducked. Zevran lay on the floor, a sluggish stream of blood running down his temple from connecting with the wall. His dagger lay a few feet away from his hand forgotten eyes closed as if asleep. Fenris rushed to his side, kneeling just as he saw the shallow rise and fall of the assassin's chest stop. Shock warred with grief as he reached down with shaking hands to brush away a strand of hair on Zevran's cheek.
"I'm sorry. I was too late." Fenris whispered to the corpse. His throat began to close up and he choked unsure of what to do.
You bastard!
The voice seemed to rip through the entire room. Zevran's broken necklace began to tremble as above a black figure seemed to appear taking shape as it came forward taking on a physical form as it broke away.
"Magic is meant to serve man, not rule over him." Said a cool, familiar voice Fenris couldn't place. He raised his head and stared in open astonishment as a blue eyed elven mage appeared to materialize out of thin air.
The small elf wasn't alone as a crow with grey eyes perched on his shoulder. The crow was beautiful with shimmering feathers as she cawed, fixing one of her fierce eyes on the dark elf kneeling next to the newly dead corpse. The elf turned his head to glance at the still form nodding to his companion as he did so.
"Make sure he doesn't pass on yet, Rinna. I have to deal with Danarius before I can help Zevy." The mage said to his companion. The crow cawed in answer, spreading its wings and gliding over to the Fenris and Zevran. Fenris didn't know why he wasn't alarmed as the crow hopped onto Zevran's still chest and seemed to study him for a few moments.
Rinna, the name of the crow, seemed to preen her feathers before she settled down on the assassin's chest. Fluffing her feathers as she folded her feet beneath her as if to make herself comfortable as she guarded Zevran. Fenris felt a shudder go through his body as if a soul had just been trapped. Glancing at the crow he thought this must be true. Rinna was preventing Zevran's soul from moving on into the Fade as her companion, the elven mage, turned his attention to Danarius.
"You should have never come here. Now you've made a sister go against her own brother, and you still expect mercy?" The mage asked, his voice ringing throughout the room. Merrill and Isabela were staring with twin expressions of confusion and alarm. Anders as well had fallen silent to stare at this newcomer, his staff drawn up protectively ready to defend himself and Hawke. The blond healer's hands trembled as he stood there poised for action. Anders was no fighter, his skills leading more towards healing rather than the actual fight itself.
"Another knife ear then, is it? A fine trick you did there, little one, but you won't have me quivering in my boots like you do the others. Join me and I shall make you a Grand Magister of the Tevinter Imperium. Such a trick as that will work in your favor were you to use in in the Imperium." Danarius said, motioning for the mage to join him. The blue eyed mage shifted his gaze to Fenris who stared stolidly back at him. They flickered with recognition recognizing him, but making no attempt to voice this discovery.
"I could be polite and say I appreciate the offer, but that would be lying. I never had a desire to possess power nor to rule over other people's lives. So, no, I don't want to be a magister. Grand or otherwise." The elven mage said casually. Danarius seemed at a loss for this, his face flickering with confusion then rage as he glanced at Varania for help. The woman cowered near the stairs frozen in place by fear as she stared at the mage with a look of horror.
Howl?
Zevran's voice echoed in the room. It sounded distant and groggy, as if he were coming out of a deep sleep. Alarm crossed over the mage's face as he glanced at the body that now seemed to be shimmering. Fenris watched as Rinna the crow began to caw, rising up and flapping her wings cawing more as if agitated. It almost seemed as if she were fighting with something in order to keep it down. Alarmed he reached up to try and calm the crow as it continued to claw and flap at the air.
The crow snapped at his fingers, fluttering off of the body and beginning to transform. Black feathers slid back into creamy white skin, hardening to leather armor similar to Zevran's. The grey eyes remained the same as red hair and pointed ears framed a beautiful but mischievous face. Her lips were naturally pouted as if she had just been told she could not have a piece of jewelry she had wanted. She now knelt on the other side of Zevran's body, her hand on his chest as she glared at her companion.
"Howl, I can't hold him in much longer! I need something strong to bind his soul back to his body. DO IT!" She snapped at Howl, who narrowed his eyes in annoyance. Fenris felt a twinge in the back of his mind at the memory re-evaluating the mage before him. He didn't have on spectacles but…
"Howl? Howl Arainai? The Hero of Ferelden?" Isabela said breathlessly her eyes nearly bugging out of her head. Howl glanced at the pirate woman, raising a brow in turn, but nodding his head ever so slightly to indicate the obvious.
"Fine, you bloody woman. Danarius, since you have abused your gift of magic, have enslaved countless innocent, and have sacrificed those who met the Maker early, I hereby renounce your gift of magic." Howl declared, his voice ringing throughout the room.
Howl raised his hand and all at once Fenris saw bright red strands glowing in the air. They shimmered and weaved together twisting upon themselves in the open air. Howl reached up and grasped several of these threads in a firm grip and gave them a firm yank. Across from him Danarius's body convulsed a scream rising from his throat as Howl continued to pull. All at once the smell of rotten flesh filled the room as a glowing ball seeming to boil with blood flew from the magister's chest into Howl's hands. Howl hissed as he caught it in both hands dropping his staff as he did so. Danarius gasped reaching up to clutch his chest as he stared at the ball with a look of horror.
"Howl." Rinna hissed her eyes wide with panic. After a moment she seemed to finally notice Fenris kneeling on the other side of Zevran. She glared at him with renewed determination as if he had just insulted her.
"What do you think you're doing?" She snapped at him. Fenris blinked in astonishment, unable to think of a good comeback despite the dire situation.
"Me?" He said stupidly for lack of anything better to say. Rinna rolled her eyes in exasperation, reaching out and grabbing his hand, firmly placing it on Zevran's still chest.
"Yes, you! The least you could do is help me keep his soul in place with those markings of yours! Would make it a hell of a lot easier, or do you want Zev to go to an early grave?" Rinna snarled. Fenris blinked, glancing down at Zevran's still form. The golden haired elf's eyes were closed but he saw no signs of life. His cheeks were pale beneath the tanned skin sporting none of the color he had had in life.
"How do I do that?" Fenris asked Rinna stupidly. Rinna scolded him, glaring at him as if he were an idiot.
"How do you breathe?" She mockingly answered him. Fenris huffed, feeling his blood boil as he glanced down at Zevran. Hesitantly, he activated his markings feeling their slight burn as they began to glow. As they came to life he felt something stir beneath his palm. He almost jerked in his hand away in surprise when he realized it wasn't a heart he felt pushing against his hand. Rather, it felt warm and pulsing beneath a delicate membrane as if it were trying to break out. It could almost be a child kicking in its mother's womb eager to be born. Here, Fenris's hand only rested on the surface of Zevran's armor but he almost thought he could feel him in that pulsing presence.
"See?" Rinna whispered her eyes sparkling. Fenris glanced at her then back down at his hand gently pushing down on the struggling presence. It quivered beneath his hands trying to rise but he wouldn't allow it.
"Is that…?" Fenris asked despite himself. Rinna nodded, her eyes softening as she glanced down at assassin. Were those tears he saw coming down her face?
"Yes, it's him. The fool, always trying to do everything by himself. He thinks he needs to protect those he loves, but in reality he's the one that needs protecting." Rinna said quietly.
Fenris felt his heart go out to her, secretly agreeing with what she said. Zevran did seem delicate at times as if he needed a person to step in and shield his heart. He glanced at Howl who now approached them, lightly juggling the glowing red toxic energy in his hands as he glanced at Rinna for help. Noticing her companion was back, she rose from the body leaving Fenris with the task to keep the soul in place.
"Here, I can handle this next part." Rinna said, gently reaching up to draw one of her daggers. Fenris noticed it was a gleaming Crow Dagger, an exact replica of Zevran's, if only newer in appearance.
Rinna slashed at the ball of energy, cutting through the foulness. There was a sudden rush and the corruption began to drip away, melting the wooden floor where it hit. Rising from the dark energy seemed to be soap bubbles all shimmering with different colors as they rose up. Howl paid no heed to them as he appeared to brush the rest of the poisonous red away leaving behind a glowing ball of white energy.
Reaching up, Howl clapped his hands together the ball of energy between. Then, slowly, ever so slowly began to spread his arms. He seemed to stretch the energy as Rinna reached out and grasped the edges of it stepping back and away from them. Soon, they appeared to having a glowing white blanket between them roughly the size of Zevran's body. Nodding to the mage they stepped carefully so they held the shimmering blanket above Zevran's body. Fenris shifted uneasily, unsure of what to do. The pulsing underneath his hand had become more erratic and stronger as the soul tried to shove its way past.
"Move, Fenris. After this next part we need to move fast. Understand?" Rinna said to the dark elf. Fenris nodded, getting his feet underneath him, ready to move out of the way.
"On the count of three, then." Howl said his voice quivering in the still air.
"One, two, THREE!"
Fenris dodged out of the way as Howl and Rinna shoved the shimmering blanket down at the same time. For a moment Zevran's soul appeared to break away from his body. Rising eagerly from his chest into the air before being trapped beneath the blanket. In a flash both blanket and soul disappeared altogether in a bright flash.
"Nothing happened." Fenris said in dismay. Howl and Rinna glanced at him as the elven mage waved him, over reaching out to grasp his hand.
"Now Fenris, do you want Zev to come back?" Howl asked seriously. Fenris glanced at the mage, for the first time locking gazes with him. It had been so long ago, he had nearly forgotten the mage. All he had remembered were the pale blue eyes only because they were the same color as Danarius's. However, they held none of the coldness or cruelty his former master had.
"Of course!" Fenris snapped, desperate to help. Howl nodded, glancing down at the still form. Zevran had still not woken up or showed any signs of life.
"Now the only part is to pull Zevy back from the brink. This is where you come in. You need to reach into his chest and pump his heart for him to get the blood flowing once more. Or else he'll just die again, and permanently this time." Howl said seriously. Fenris stared at Howl in horror, then at Rinna who was watching him with the same mixture of seriousness.
"Why can't you do it? I could crush his heart!" Fenris growled at the both of them. Rinna's eyes became sad as she exchanged a look with Howl, who just nodded in consent.
"We're dead, me and Howl. The only thing we can do is to either hurry along someone's passing or to hold it off long enough to buy a person enough time for help to come. The dead can't resurrect the living." Rinna said with a shrug of her shoulders. Fenris glanced down at Zevran, once again imagining the elf dying.
They had only spent a month together, but in that time he had come to care for Zevran. They had become…close to say the least. It was true they had much in common and yet they were so vastly different. With a shaking hand, he activated his markings once more. Fenris hesitated for a moment, then removed his metal gauntlets, letting them drop with a clatter to the floor.
With trembling hands he reached into Zevran's chest. He felt the slight damp as his hand brushed vital organs and the hardness as he passed bone. Then he reached the heart, the muscle slack in the still body. Wrapping his fingers around it, Fenris gave it the lightest of touches. Gently squeezing the heart and feeling the blood move sluggishly through the veins. He squeezed again, and again, trying to get the heart to awaken. Then after a minute of pumping the heart he felt the smallest of shudders in the muscle as if quivered as if about to start pumping of its own accord then failing.
"It moved!" Fenris said, almost losing his grasp on the heart. He had to re-adjust himself to keep from falling on top of Zevran. Rinna and Howl exchanged another glance, then the red haired woman glanced back Fenris her expression serious.
"It's not enough. You're going to have to do more." Rinna said. Fenris glanced at her, panic rising in his chest as he continued to work Zevran's heart.
"What is it? I'll do anything!" Fenris said losing himself in the movement. Lips trembling as if she were about to cry eyes shiny with unshed tears she looked back down at the body.
"You have to breathe air back into his lungs. The air he has now has gone stale, his heart needs fresh air or else you'll lose him for good." Rinna instructed him.
Fenris didn't wait to question her on this note. He was desperate; he was close to waking the assassin up. Without pause he leaned down and breathed a puff of air into Zevran's slack body. He felt the lungs inflate then the air stale air leave in a rush. Zevran's lips felt clammy and cold against his own, revolting under different circumstances but he didn't care. He continued to breathe into Zevran and pump his heart becoming ever more frantic when he got no response.
It's almost as if I'm kissing him, Fenris thought morbidly continuing the work the heart in his hand.
Then, he felt it again. The heart shuddered and suddenly burst to life beating rapidly as it took in the new air. Fenris withdrew his hand his lips still over Zevran's from his last breath. Before he could pull back and hand reached up and slipped around his neck pulling him into a deeper, passionate embrace.
A warm tongue tasting of honey and cinnamon entered into his mouth, pulling him in. Fenris was too shocked and surprised to fight back as his mouth continued to be plundered. He heard a soft sigh beneath him as the body shifted and rose, continuing to make out with him. After a few shocked moments, Fenris broke the kiss pulling back.
Zevran's hair was disheveled as he gave Fenris a sleepy look. Seeing the shocked expression on his partner's face, he gave him a lecherous grin. Zevran had propped himself up against the wall and now reached up, cracking his neck with a tired sigh as everyone continued to stare at the two elves. Even Danarius seemed at a loss for words at seeing someone being brought back from the dead. Looking around the room Zevran looked confused since having woken up. Fenris noticed Howl and Rinna had disappeared and wondered distantly where they had gone. Finally, Zevran focused on Fenris as if noticing him for the first time.
"Not that I don't appreciate being molested in my sleep, Lord Fenris. But don't you think this is the wrong time and place to duel with our tongues rather than taking down your enemy?" Zevran asked.