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"Damnable man!" Morrigan muttered angrily as she turned and headed down the North Road toward the Circle Tower.
"Something amiss, my dear?" Zevran said curiously as he reached Morrigan's side. He had seen, just as she had, the parting kiss between Zeva and Duncan, and though it displeased him greatly, it hadn't deterred him from his current course. He knew there was something developing between the two Wardens, but he was quite confident that, given enough time, he would be able to coax the beautiful Zeva into his bed.
Morrigan shook her head furiously and spoke to Zevran as they walked. "Not that it is your business, but for all the brilliance our lovely Grey Warden has, she infuriates me with the way she clings to that idiot of a man! He is completely unworthy of her, and with what may happen..."
Zevran cocked his eyebrow questioningly. "With what may happen?" he asked. "Is there something I should know?"
"No, you have nothing to do with this!" Morrigan said tersely, then quickly softened her tone. "I did note that you didn't seem too happy with the recent turn of events, either."
"I admit, I was not," Zevran replied. "I am not a man easily dissuaded, however, and I have no doubt that I can work around our Warden Commander."
"Well, good luck with that, assassin," Morrigan said, laughing. "The Bann of Rainesfere all but proposed to Zeva only a couple of days ago and she wouldn't accept. I cannot imagine you could offer more."
"Oh, my dear Morrigan," Zevran said huskily, "what I have to offer Zeva will be something she could never get from her Bann or her Warden, I can assure you." With that he stopped walking and waited for Zeva to catch up, a wicked gleam in his eye.
o~~~~~~~~o
Leliana smiled broadly as Duncan caught up with her. "I see things are better between you and Zeva," she said coyly.
Duncan laughed softly. "Well, it is a start, Leliana. Thank you so much for speaking with me last night."
"You are most welcome, Ser," the bard said. "Now, you must work on the next steps."
"Next steps?" Duncan asked nervously. "Do I even want to know?"
Leliana laughed. "I think it is wonderful that you and Zeva are speaking again, even showing some affection. However, she has just left with an assassin trained in seduction. A man, I may add, who appears to have his eye on your Warden. And Zeva is, how shall we say it, an extremely 'sexual' person," the bard said carefully. "I think it is safe to assume that Zevran will succeed in his attempts, at least to a certain degree, before they return to us."
Duncan groaned as he imagined all of the possible outcomes of the coming week while they were apart. The vision of Zeva with Zevran made him feel physically ill. "So, what now, Leliana?"
"Now, my dear Warden Commander, you need to think seriously about how you will woo Zeva," she explained. "You must remember, the next time you see her we will be in Redcliffe. You will have not one, but two other men vying for her attentions, one of which you know loves her. I just think it is important that you be ready to fight for the woman you want."
No matter how much Duncan tried to deny it, he knew Leliana was right. Zeva was an amazingly passionate woman, and she wouldn't wait forever for him to express his desires. However, he would not be rushed into anything. If he was to win her for his own, he would do it his own way; a slow yet constant seduction that would have her begging for him by the time he was done. He would no longer deny his feelings. He would take what he wanted, and once he had her, no other man would ever touch her again.
As though she could read his thoughts, Leliana smiled and laid a hand on his arm. "I can see by the look on your face you have made up your mind. That is good. I imagine Zeva won't know what hit her when she next sees you!" she teased.
The companions fell into comfortable silence, watching Nihlus bound ahead, as they moved closer to Denerim.
o~~~~~~~~o
Zevran walked close to the Warden, inhaling the fresh scent of mint from her hair.
She laughed softly and gazed over at him. "Are you sniffing me?" she asked curiously.
"Why yes, my dear Zeva, I am," he replied casually. "Your hair has the most wonderful fragrance. I dare say it is intoxicating."
"That line work for you often, does it?" she asked, a bright smile on her face.
Zevran leaned close to her ear and whispered, "My darling Grey Warden, I was simply making an observation. I find 'lines', as you call them, to be tedious and unnecessary. Honesty is so much more seductive, don't you think?" A small shiver ran down her spine as he spoke, his voice velvety smooth on her skin.
"You are going to be a problem, aren't you?" Zeva asked, shaking her head.
Chuckling wickedly, Zevran took her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing her fingers softly. "You have no idea, my Zeva," he said, staring deep into her eyes.
"If you two are quite done," Morrigan called as she stopped ahead, waiting on the pair, "I think we should try to get to this ridiculous tower by nightfall."
Maintaining his grip on Zeva's hand, Zevran rolled his eyes and pulled her forward, catching up with their dark-haired companion.
"You can let go, you know," Zeva said, once they had reached Morrigan's side.
Glancing once more at the Warden, desire evident in his amber eyes, Zevran reluctantly released her hand. "For now," he said slyly, "but not for long, I promise you."
Smiling softly, Zeva moved past Zevran and continued walking toward the Tower, shining like a beacon in the sky ahead.
o~~~~~~~~o
The trio arrived on the shores of Lake Calenhad long after the sun went down. They were met by a scavenger, who was poking through the remnants of a past skirmish. Zeva questioned him over Sten's missing sword, which the Qunari told her he lost when the darkspawn attacked he and his brethren as they were traveling the countryside, seeking information about the Blight.
The scavenger admitted that he had purchased this particular salvage spot from a seedy merchant named Faryn, who was headed to Orzammar. If there were swords to be found, Qunari or no, Faryn would be the one to ask. Zeva thanked the man and they headed down the hill to the docks.
As they approached the lake, Morrigan stopped and looked up at the Tower. "How very fitting that they would build a prison for mages in the middle of a lake and make it look like a giant phallus," she said angrily.
Zeva knew that Morrigan was dreading the trip to the Circle Tower, and she had been very grateful that the witch had offered to accompany her. "Thank you for coming with me, Morrigan," she said, smiling warmly at her friend. "I know this isn't exactly where you would like to be."
"Well, I wasn't about to spend 'quality time' with the Warden Commander," she said derisively, "nor was I going to leave you alone with our new companion. Someone needs to make sure the only worthwhile Grey Warden in Ferelden stays alive."
"Whatever your reason," Zeva replied, "I am glad to have you here." Morrigan responded with a nod, although Zevran noted a slight blush creep into the witch's cheeks.
o~~~~~~~~o
"What do you mean, no one is getting into the Tower?" Zeva asked the former ferryman, Kester, who was currently dawdling outside the Spoiled Princess Inn.
"I can't tell you much, Miss," Kester said apologetically. "All I know is that Knight-Commander Greagoir came across the lake about a week ago and told me that I wasn't needed for the time being. He gave my boat over to that idiot Templar Carroll, and no one has been allowed into or out of the Tower, except a group of Templars who left two days ago, heading for Maker only knows where."
"Thank you, Kester," Zeva said and walked away, motioning for Zevran and Morrigan to follow. They stopped at the edge of the lake, looking out toward the Circle.
"Something very bad is happening at that Tower," Zevran said, shaking his head.
"Well, of course there is! We need to go there, so naturally there is a problem," Zeva replied. "I would suggest we get some rooms for the night and go across the lake in the morning. Something tells me we are going to want to be rested for this one."
The companions entered the Spoiled Princess and acquired two rooms for the night. Morrigan and Zeva would share one, and Zevran received his own. His suggestion that they all sleep together had been ignored by both women. After lying in her bed for at least an hour without feeling the least bit sleepy, Zeva rose and threw on a tunic and breeches, heading outside for some fresh air.
She was sitting next to the Lake, looking at the Tower, when she heard a voice behind her. "No rest for you, my dear Warden?" Zevran questioned as he approached and sat down next to her.
She sighed heavily. "Not yet, Zevran," she answered. "I can't help wondering what is happening over there, what we will see when we get there. I have a bad feeling about this."
And the last time I felt like this, so many people died, she thought sadly, remembering her fears before the Battle of Ostagar.
"You have been through much in a very short time, haven't you, Zeva?" Zevran asked quietly.
"Yeah, but so have we all, right?" she replied quietly. "And, unfortunately, I am afraid we will see much worse before this is all over.
But enough about the ugliness ahead. We will face that soon enough," she continued, turning to him. "Tell me about Antiva. I have heard it is quite beautiful."
Zevran smiled wistfully. "Antiva is warm, so unlike the harshness of Ferelden. It rains often, and the flowers are always in bloom. I was born in Antiva City, the loveliest city of them all."
"You can go back someday, right?" Zeva asked.
The assassin shook his head. "Not for awhile, at least. My rather abrupt exit from the Crows has made such a thing impossible, I am afraid," he said quietly.
Zeva placed her hand over his and squeezed softly, causing his heart to beat quickly in his chest. "Although I am not sorry you failed in your mission, for obvious reasons, I am sorry it has made it difficult for you to return home. My home was taken from me, as well, not so long ago, and I can appreciate the pain that brings."
Guilt tore through Zevran; it was a feeling to which he was completely unaccustomed. He realized he was at least partially to blame for the destruction of Zeva's home, and he silently vowed that he would help her reclaim what was once hers.
"I thank you for your kind words, Zeva," he said, anxious to change the subject. "I will say, among all of the things I miss from my homeland, I miss leather the most."
Rolling her eyes dramatically, Zeva asked cautiously, "Do I even want to know what you are referring to, Zev?"
"My dearest Warden, you have a very dirty mind!" Zevran replied, laughing heartily. "I love that! However, in this particular case, I am referring to the smell of Antivan leather. Not that we cannot revisit your interpretation at a later date; demonstration included, of course."
Smiling at the blush that crept into Zeva's cheeks, he continued, "The Crows housed the youngest of their recruits in a tiny apartment building in Antiva City's leather-making district. I grew quite accustomed to the smell, unlike the humans, who complained about it constantly. To this day, the smell of fresh leather reminds me of home more than anything else. I had my eye on a pair of leather boots just before I left for Ferelden. I thought to myself 'Zevran, you can just purchase them when you get back as a reward for a job well done'. I suppose that will not be happening now."
"Your home is still there, Zev. Someday you can have your boots," Zeva said softly.
"Right you are, and that is a comforting thought," Zevran said quietly. "Not that I am complaining about the way things turned out. Instead of being a slave to the Crows, I am following an exquisite Ferelden warrior into battle to save the entire world from an evil horde of monsters. Despite the dangers, I find this new path to be a great improvement."
"Exquisite, you say?" Zeva said mischievously. "Well, I am sure Duncan will appreciate the compliment. I will be sure to tell him you see him as such."
In one fluid movement, Zevran slid the Warden onto her back and climbed atop her, settling between her legs, his hands on either side of her face. Gazing at her with passion-filled eyes, the elven assassin brought his lips to within millimeters of her own and spoke quietly. "Handsome as he may be, your Warden Commander is the furthest thing from my thoughts, believe me. You, on the other hand, have consumed my mind since I first saw you."
Gasping at the intensity in his voice, Zeva began, "Zevran, about Duncan, I think I should tell you..."
Shaking his head, Zevran placed a finger on her lips to silence her. "No need to explain, my darling Zeva," he interrupted, "I am aware that there is something between the two of you. It is obvious to anyone who spends more than two minutes in your company. However, unless I am greatly mistaken, and I am rarely wrong, I can assure you, there is something between you and I, as well. You cannot deny this."
Zeva stared into his eyes, stunned at his boldness. "I.. I barely know you," she stammered. "and you tried to kill me not long ago. Exactly how do you expect me to respond to this?"
"You needn't respond at all; at least not yet," he said, tracing the curve of her lips with his finger. "Only know this, my beautiful Grey Warden. In the very near future, regardless of your Warden Commander, I have every intention of taking you to my bed and showing you the kind of pleasure you have never known before. This is a certainty.
Until then," he said seductively and brushed his lips across hers, "allow me to leave you with a small preview of what is to come." Grasping the back of her head in his hand, Zevran closed the distance between them, sliding his tongue into Zeva's mouth and stealing her breath with his passionate kisses. Her body responded immediately, her back arching to meet him as he slowly ran his free hand down her torso to caress her upper thigh, kneading her muscles sensually.
Slowly Zevran drew away, looking down at Zeva, her eyes heavy with desire. "I suggest we return to the inn and get some rest, wouldn't you agree?" he asked, moving to lie next to her.
Regaining her breath, Zeva chucked softly and said, "I knew you were going to be trouble, Zevran Arainai. What am I going to do with you?"
"What will you do with me? Let me see. Eventually, my dear, you will succumb to my countless charms and make passionate love to me; tonight, though," he said as he stood up and held out his hand, helping Zeva to her feet, "you will allow me to escort you back to your room, where you will ready yourself for the fight we will no doubt face tomorrow."
Slipping her arm through his, Zeva allowed Zevran to lead her into the inn, where he placed a soft kiss on her lips before leaving her outside her room. She entered quietly, so as to not awaken Morrigan, and slid in the bed next to her companion. As her body began to relax, her thoughts were torn between her handsome Warden Commander and the Antivan elf with the oh-so-talented tongue.
Maker help me, she thought as she finally surrendered to the Fade.
o~~~~~~~~o
"I trust you slept well," Zevran said the next morning, a sly smile on his face.
Zeva couldn't quite hide the blush in her cheeks as she responded, "Yes, thank you, Zevran."
Morrigan laughed, walking past the two rogues into the morning light. "I knew this would be much more interesting than going to Denerim," she said casually as they strolled toward the Templar guarding the docks.
"Your name is Carroll, correct?" Zeva said as she approached the Templar.
The man looked surprised at her question. "Why, yes, it is. I hope you are not looking to cross to the Circle Tower, because you can't."
"My dear man," Zevran said bluntly, "I have learned from personal experience that it isn't good to tell the Grey Warden she can't do something."
"So, you are claiming to be a Grey Warden, now?" Carroll said, sarcasm dripping in his tone.
Zeva stepped forward and flashed her sweetest smile at the Templar. "Ser Carroll, I really need your help. I need to meet with Knight-Commander Greagoir, I believe his name is, regarding an matter of urgent business to all of Ferelden. The lives of so many rest on your shoulders. Now, you can do this for me, can't you?" she asked, running her fingers down the sleeve of his armor.
His face a bright shade of red, Carroll motioned toward the boat. "Y-yes, ma'am. I will take you there right away."
"I think I may begin to refuse our lovely Warden if I could get similar treatment," Zevran said to Morrigan as the boat left the shore, moving slowly toward the darkened Tower.
o~~~~~~~~o
The scene in the entrance hall of the Tower was one of chaos. Templars ran past the party as they walked through the door. Ahead, Zeva saw the man she assumed was Knight-Commander Greagoir giving orders to the Templars around him. The group stopped before him just as the soldiers left and he turned to her.
"Now we wait and pray," he said, his voice deep and commanding.
"I assume you are Greagoir," Zeva said calmly.
The Templar cocked an eyebrow and stared at the companions. "I am," he said. "Wait, who are you and how did you get here? I told Carroll no one was to enter the Tower without my express permission."
"I can be quite persuasive when I want to," Zeva replied bluntly. "My name is Zeva Cousland and I am a Grey Warden. I have come seeking the aid of the mages and the Templars against the Blight."
Greagoir snorted derisively. "I grow tired of the Wardens' demands for more mages for their cause," he said angrily. "It is their right, however.
I am sorry to inform you, Warden, that you will find no allies here," Greagoir continued. "I cannot spare any Templars and the mages are... indisposed."
"Knight Commander, there is obviously a problem here," Zeva said, approaching the Templar. "Why don't you tell me what is going on and I may be able to help you."
Greagoir studied her closely, as though assessing her ability to be of assistance to him. Finally, he nodded and spoke, "The Tower is no longer under our control. Abominations and demons stalk the Tower's halls. The Circle is lost. The Tower has fallen."
"Demons and abominations? How did this happen?" Zeva asked, concern evident in her voice.
"We don't know. We saw only demons, hunting Templars and mages alike. I realized we could not defeat them and told my men to flee," Greagoir explained. "We have barred the doors to keep the demons from escaping. I have called to Denerim for reinforcements and have petitioned the Grand Cleric to invoke the Rite of Annulment."
Her eyes opened wide in shock, Zeva stared down the Templar. "You left the mages inside to deal with these abominations alone? Aren't your men trained to handle situations just like this?" she said furiously. "And what exactly is this Rite you spoke of?"
Greagoir bristled at her accusatory tone. "The Rite of Annulment gives the Templars the authority to neutralize the mage circle. Completely," he said, his eyes cold.
"Neutralize? You mean slaughter, don't you?" Zeva said and her companions could see her face begin to flush. "There have to be survivors inside this Tower. Your mages cannot all be defenseless."
"I wish we could do more, I truly do," Greagoir responded, his voice softening. "It is too much to hope for survivors and find none."
Squaring her shoulders, Zeva reached out and placed her hand on his arm, speaking kindly, "Then let me go in and search for you, Knight Commander. I have no fear of your abominations. I have faced, and will still face, far worse."
"Well," Greagoir began, smiling slightly, "you certainly are not lacking in confidence, Warden. A word of caution, however... once you cross that threshold, there is no turning back. The great doors must remain barred. I will open them for no one until I know that it is safe. I will only believe it is over if the First Enchanter stands before me and tells me it is so. If Irving has fallen - then the Circle is lost, and must be destroyed."
Zeva nodded and headed for the doors. "Are you both ready for this?" she asked her companions.
Morrigan was the first to speak. "Well, I have followed you this far into this zoo of caged mages. I may as well complete the tour."
Placing his hand on her shoulder, Zevran smiled and answered, "You always take me to the nicest places, my dear, but what say I choose our next destination. The atmosphere here is rather less than celebratory."
The Templars guarding the great doors slowly pulled them open and the party proceeded through. Behind her, Zeva heard the doors slam shut, the sound echoing through the abandoned hallways. She walked on, preparing herself for what was to come.
o~~~~~~~~o
Arl Rendon Howe moaned softly, deep in sleep in his Denerim estate bed. His dreams of Zeva had grown stronger, and he had begun to long for the end of each day, when he could once more leave reality behind for the wonders of the Fade.
Zeva sat atop him, her head thrown back in ecstasy. Her perfect breasts bounced as she rode him, rocking her hips in a steady rhythm as she cried out his name. Around her neck was a glittering golden chain, housing a single, perfect diamond, which he had given her on their wedding day.
She ran her fingernails down his chest, leaving red lines in their wake. Her eyes met his, and he could see the love and desire shining brightly in them, all for him.
He pulled her down to his chest, kissing her ardently. Their tongues fought for dominance and Zeva groaned loudly into his mouth as her climax began to build.
Grasping her hips, he thrust himself deeper inside his wife, feeling the familiar warmth begin to build in his stomach, spreading to his loins.
Just as he felt he could take no more, Zeva pulled back and gazed down at him, smiling sweetly. "I love you, my wonderful husband," she said and he felt her walls tightening around him, bringing him to his end. As the feelings grew stronger, he called out her name, and...
His dream was abruptly disturbed by a knocking on his bedroom door. I'll kill them, he thought as he moved from the bed, wrapping his robe around him, hiding his now-painful erection.
"Come in!" he shouted angrily. Reginald stepped into the room, his head bowed in apology.
"I cannot tell you how sorry I am for interrupting your sleep, Milord," the manservant said, "but I thought you would want to be made aware of the latest news on Lady Cousland as soon as possible."
At the sound of her name, Howe visibly brightened. "Of course, Reginald," he said quickly. "What has happened?"
"There is an Antivan Crow waiting outside to see you, Ser," Reginald said and opened the door. Ruiz, who had been a member of Zevran's crew in Highever, entered the room, coming to a halt well away from the Arl.
Howe looked suspiciously at Ruiz. "Where is Arainai? I thought he would be returning with the Grey Warden," he asked anxiously.
"That is why I am here, Milord," Ruiz began. "You see, we seem to have lost contact with Zevran Arainai."
"Lost contact?" Howe said, his voice taking on a murderous tone. "I suggest you give me every detail, immediately!"
Reginald shook his head ruefully. More blood to clean off the floor, he thought to himself. This woman will be the death of me, of that I have no doubt!
"The last communication we had from Zevran, he was in place with his team outside of Redcliffe, awaiting the departure of the female Grey Warden and her companions," Ruiz explained. "That was several days ago. When we did not hear back from him, we sent a scouting party to make sure the job had been done. We located the site of the trap, and found the bodies of several of our men littering the pass. We were not able to locate any of the Warden's party, nor could we find Zevran's body. At this point, we must assume he has been captured by the group."
Howe's mind spun with possibilities, none of them good. Certainly, Zeva and her party may have captured the Antivan, but to what end? It would seem foolish to allow an assassin in their midst, unless he had chosen to stay with her.
Ruiz only had a moment to register the rage in Howe's eyes before the dagger entered his side, and he slid to the floor, crying out in pain.
"He will live," Howe said and turned to Reginald. "Have our men contact the Crows and let them know how displeased I am that they have failed in their mission. Send along one of this fool's hands to prove the point. Make sure he lives, however, and have him moved to the dungeon. I have some new devices I am anxious to try out on him."
Reginald nodded and opened the door, calling in the guards to remove the Crow. Once this was done, he turned to his master, who was staring at the painting of Zeva which he had had removed from the Cousland family portrait and hung in his room.
"What shall our next move be, Milord?" he asked cautiously, knowing how sensitive the Arl could be when it came to the Lady Zeva.
Sighing heavily, Howe turned to him and spoke sadly, "As loath as I am to admit it, Reginald, we may have to wait for the Lady Cousland to come to us. We should send out more scouting parties to see if we can locate her, but I have a feeling my lovely Zeva will be coming to me on her own soon enough.
In the meantime, we need to prepare for her arrival," Howe continued. "I want everything to be perfect for her. After all, the new Arlessa will need a proper home to live in, will she not?" With that, Howe climbed back into bed, anxious to return to the dream of his future bride.