Author's note: I'll be tinkering with this chapter for flow, but I wanted to get it posted ASAP. Please forgive any glaring grammar and spelling.

Zevran

Somewhere on the way back to Arl Eamon's estate, Zevran found himself walking down deserted back alleys, winding through Denerim's warehouse district. Nothing but the sound of scavenger birds broke the silence resting heavily on this part of the city. The hair on the back of his neck started to prickle as a familiar scent hit his nostrils. Sandalwood. Sword oil. Blood.

Zevran spun around on his heel only to see his old friend Taliesen standing at the top of a flight of steps leading to a ramshackle house.

"And so here is the mighty Zevran at long last. The Crows send their regards," Taliesen said with a toothy grin. He hooked his thumbs into the belt loops of his leather armor and looked down at Zevran. He pursed his lips. "It's been a while, my friend."

Zevran, for his part, kept his blades at the ready, "So they sent you Taliesen, or did you volunteer for the job?"

Taliesen laughed, "I volunteered, of course." He descended the steps as he spoke, "When I heard that the great Zevran had gone rouge, I simply had to see it for myself." He stopped on the second to last step and looked down at Zevran.

Zevran felt prickles of sweat form across his skin. Flashes of movement from the rooftops behind and around Taliesen revealed reinforcements. It wasn't a surprise that he had brought help, but it was disheartening. Even if he was able to kill Taliesen, the other Crows would undoubtedly kill him as well. He sneered, "Well, here I am, in the flesh."

"Oh, I can see that," Taliesen glanced up at the rooftops, confirming that they were surrounded. "I was told to offer you the chance to return. The masters don't want to lose their investment after all, and you were one of the best. Since you've been gone, that honor has fallen to me."

"Was it cold there in my shadow, mi amor?" He smirked.

Taliesen's eyes narrowed to slits, "A smart arse to the end, I see. As if that hasn't gotten you into enough trouble."

Zevran glanced quickly at the rooftops. "Let me guess, you're not eager to bring me back alive, are you?"

Taliesen shrugged. "Would you be in my position? None of us would be able to trust you in any case. Not after joining up with the wardens. Not after what happened on the merchant job. Your judgment hasn't improved, I see."

Zevran's throat almost closed up. Memories of pleading eyes and blood-streaked floors came back in a rush. He brandished his twin blades, trembling in his hands but still dripping with poison and the lord's blood. Dropping into an attack stance, Zevran braced himself for what could be his last fight. Glaring at Taliesen, he said, "Take me on if you wish, but I will not go so easily, and you should have stayed in Antiva."

Arrows poured in by the hundreds, almost blotting out the sun. Zevran closed his eyes, but before a single one found its mark, a crackle of magic shuddered through all of them. The arrows stopped inches from his body and hovered in midair as if held by invisible hands. He looked around, shock plain on his face, and mirrored on Taliesen's. The Warden's voice broke the silence, "What happened? Swords at dawn lost its charm?"

Zevran turned to see the Warden Mage make her way through the cloud of arrows. They parted and clattered to the ground as she walked by, leaving an eerie path through the remaining frozen projectiles. "Warden? How?"

"I was worried," she placed a hand on his shoulder. "When you didn't come back, I asked the guards where Bennett went and guessed from there."

Zevran said, "I hope I didn't overstep."

She kissed his cheek.

"It's not enough one woman died for you; now you have another fighting your battles," Taliesen scoffed.

"Oh shut up," Alyssa said. "You brought an army for one man. He may have the market cornered on bragging, but all this?" She waved around at the Crows, currently reloading their bows. "Admits that he's as good as he says. Or that you're afraid of him."

"Of him? Afraid? Why the hell should I?"

"Aside from his ability to form coherent sentences?" She snapped her fingers. The arrows rotated in midair and flew back to their shooters, pinning them against chimneys, boards, and each other. Weapons flew from their hands and their belts. Spare arrows melted into each other making them impossible to draw. "Because he has friends too."

He looked to his men on the roofs and rolled his eyes, making a clicking noise with his tongue. Glaring back at the Warden, he asked, "Did he even bother to tell you what happened the last time a woman claimed to love him? I'll save you the mystery. It didn't end well."

Panic ripped through Zevran, intensifying as Taliesen continued.

"Your little sweetheart here didn't blink when he cut her throat. Didn't ask if the information was good, did you?" He sneered. "Always did as you were told. Good thing too. The bitch was just slowing us down. You were never any fun after she caught your eye. Do you even remember her name? I bloody well don't."

Zevran's head snapped to Taliesen, a rushing sound in his ears, deafening him. Red started to fill his vision as he heard Alyssa shout, "You set him up! You fuck—"

Most of what happened was a blur; merely bits and pieces making it through the blood haze. Clashing metal, explosive powder, splintering wood, all merged into a giant mess. His skin was cut, but there was no pain. Cracking bones and ripping tendons were ignored as Zevran and Taliesen tumbled down the steps. They grappled each other across the gravel, kicking and slicing wildly. Punches flew, some landing and others missing entirely. They threw dirt in each other's faces and grabbed at limbs that flailed out for weapons lost in the commotion.

Taliesen's hand found Zevran's dagger and pushed it deep into the elf's ribs. Instead of reacting to the wound, Zevran grabbed Taliesen's throat and squeezed as hard as he could. The dagger twisted under his rib cage, blood pouring from the hole that was growing by the second. Zevran kept squeezing. Taliesen's eyes started to bulge and fill with blood from broken capillaries. He gurgled and clawed at Zevran's hands, no longer pushing blade deeper. His grip tightened further, ignoring Taliesen's struggle until he felt a hard snap vibrate up his arms.

Taliesen went limp. His eyes rolled back and his mouth went slack, blood running from where he bit his tongue. Finally, Zevran let go and staggered to his feet, favoring his right leg. The dagger was still lodged in his side, and he could feel the fire of the poison racing through his veins. He collapsed to his knees, watching his blood run from between his fingers and cover the ground in an alarmingly large pool. Gradually the red faded from his vision, and sound returned to his ears. He heard Alyssa's voice from over his shoulder, "What did you want to do about the rooftops?" The poison was overtaking him now. Feeling in his limbs stopped suddenly, and he came down hard on his injured side. He tried to look up at the Warden, but it was hard to see now; only watery blurred color and shapeless blobs.

Before he lost consciousness, he said in a weak voice, "No witnesses…."

Zevran

He was on something soft. His body sank into it, and there was warmth from something covering him. The last time he was this cozy was in Arl Eamon's estate in Redcliffe. Zevran opened his eyes slowly and saw Alistair reading in a plush chair near a dying fire. "Alistair?" His voice was more of a weak growl that hurt his throat.

Alistair jumped to his feet, "Don't talk. You've been out for four days now." He helped Zevran get more comfortable, short of sitting up in bed. "You shouldn't move around too much. Whatever you had on those blades nearly killed you. You're lucky we got you back here in time."

"Where is Alyssa?" Zevran strained to sit up more but couldn't manage. His skin felt like it was on too tight, and there was a dull ache under his ribs.

Alistair kept his hand on Zevran's shoulder. "Resting, and you should be too. Do you think you can manage food or water?"

He pushed Alistair's hand away or at least tried too. Keeping his eyes open was a challenge. "I have to speak to her…" With a sigh, he sank down into the bedding, trying to ignore a headache starting up.

Alistair waited until he settled back down. "Do you know why I'm not stopping you?" He hooked his thumbs into his belt loops.

Zevran shook his head.

"Because you're so weak you can't even pull the blanket off you. There's no way you're getting out of that bed, and if by some miracle you do, I'll kiss Oghren full on the mouth."

Zevran smiled for a moment, but the dark thoughts caught up with him. "Please, Alistair. Things were…were said. I'd rather… she hears the full story… from me." Getting a full sentence out was a struggle, and he was panting by the end of it. Heaviness in his body forced him to slide back down under the covers. He looked up at Alistair, wanting to ask again but unable.

Gently, Alistair placed his hand under Zevran's chin and turned it a chair off to the left. "Poor thing is exhausted. She wouldn't stop until the poison was out, and then she wouldn't sleep until your color came back." Zevran felt his heart beat faster as Alistair continued. "I told her to go rest, but she insisted on being here. The chair was my idea; otherwise, she would be curled up at the foot of your bed along with Ashfur." At this, the dog picked up his head, surprising Zevran. He hadn't noticed the animal's weight before. Alistair continued, "The two of you are so stubborn, I swear you were made for each other."

Too many thoughts crashed into his mind at the same time. Zevran turned onto his good side, away from Alistair, unable to speak. He drew the covers over his head so that Alistair couldn't see the tears he had no strength left to hide.