Char: Zevvin & Iron Bull

All That Glitters

Vitae Benefaria

Zevvin groggily opened his eyes. Blinking the sleep haze away, he slowly turned on his side to look at the window. The sky was dark with the beginnings of orange and red bleeding over the horizon. Dawn. Zevvin sighed silently and slipped out of the bed. He looked at Dorian briefly. The mage was fast asleep, laying on his back with his hands over his head. Zevvin shook his head silently and headed for the door.

Zevvin wandered through the halls absentmindedly. His wanderings brought him into the kitchen. The kitchen was modest in size, looking to be just a bit smaller than the kitchen back in Skyhold. The set up was almost exactly the same. He stood by the door as he watched the 3 elven servants bustle around the room, chattering amongst themselves almost happily. He could hear, from his position, that they were speaking of him; they couldn't believe the rumors that the inquisitor was an elf was true.

Zevvin frowned. He couldn't help but feel wary that the fact he was an elf made them feel he was representing all elves in Thedas. That just wasn't true. The only elf he was representing was himself. In fact, he found himself getting along more with humans than he did his own kind. Wisper hadn't spoken lies when he'd said Zevvin never found an elf interesting…in that way.

He felt his face heat up as his disgruntled thoughts switched to Iron Bull. He shook his head to rid himself of the thoughts. He wasn't really successful until a gasp and a crash made him come back to reality. One of the elves had spotted him and in her surprised, dropped a platter of food. "Lord Inquisitor!"

Everyone snapped their gaze to the entrance of the kitchen at the squealed shout. Zevvin even saw a couple heads poke in through a side room on the left. "Did you need something, my lord? How about a morning snack before breakfast?" One of the other servants asked.

Zevvin shook his head.

"Creators, Velarill, this is the 5th plate you've broken this week!" Another servant shouted. Zevvin made his way over to the nervous elven woman. She was shakily picking up the glass piece, dropping them just as fast as she was picking them up. Zevvin kneeled next to her and the redheaded woman snapped her gaze up to him.

"Oh! Lord Inquisitor, you needn't-"

"I'll help. It's partially my fault. I hadn't meant to startle you," Zevvin said with a small smile. Another elven servant - a brunette dressed in green - came up on the side of him as Velarill smiled.

"Thank you, Lord Inquisitor!"

"Please, call me Zevvin," Zevvin insisted. Velarill face flushed a brilliant red as the servant beside her cleared her throat.

"A word, later?" She whispered. Zevvin nodded his head silently, only sparing the other elven woman a sideways glance.

…

..

.

Zevvin spent much of the early morning with the servants. He'd helped them clean up the kitchen, prepare breakfast, and even taught them a few techniques that would quicken their prep time. The servants were immediately taken by Zevvin's kind and helpful nature. They became fast friends and had even told him much about the lord of the manor. Bertrand, as Zevvin had suspected earlier, had a thing for elves. He never acted on it, to their knowledge, beyond employing elves to look at. It was obvious in his admiration of those he employed as they were usually the main attraction to his parties.

They cautioned Zevvin about some of the guests Bertrand usually invites who were not so restrained with their infatuation with elves. He'd even got a tearful admission from one of the female servants about one such guest that had forced himself on her. He has so far been to all the gatherings Bertrand throws and she had only crossed paths with him once or twice every so often.

As Zevvin walked down the hall towards his temporary chambers, he was stopped by a hand on his wrist. He turned slightly to regard the slightly taller elven woman, Talim, he recalled. "Yes?" He asked. She looked down the way they had come before motioning with her head towards the door to their left.

"May I have a word with you alone, my lord?" She asked.

"Of course." Zevvin nodded and allowed her to lead him into the room she had been indicating. The room she led him in looked to be a study. It was not small but it wasn't large either. There was a large bookcase on the far left and back wall with a desk in the middle of the room. On the right wall, there was a fire roaring in the fireplace. "What is it?"

"My lord, I have not been entirely truthful with you s-" Zevvin held his hand up to stop her.

"Zevvin," he corrected. Talim paused and stared at him. She relented with a short sigh. "You're one of Leliana's men," he stated rather then asked. Talim nodded.

"Zevvin," she said, pulling a scroll from her shirt. She handed it to Zevvin. He opened it, sat down in front of the desk, and read over the simple missive. It was just simply a mission to gather information on Bertrand before the Inquisitor arrived and relay any information she gathered to him. He looked up at her and nodded for her to continue. "How did you figure?" Zevvin shrugged.

"Lucky guess."

Talim frowned and hesitated with her next words. "They were being truthful," Talim said, taking the scroll back. She walked over to the fire place. She tossed the scroll in and turned back to Zevvin. She leaned on the space next to the fire place and crossed her arms. "Though they did skip out on a few tidbits of information, probably to keep from being punished. Bertrand does look but he does touch. So does his Tevinter contact. You've noticed some of the servants wearing gold, correct?" At this, Zevvin nodded, recalling the servant that had escorted them to their rooms.

"These servants are acquired slaves. They were brought in through the one from Tevinter, this contact he's supposedly has. Damian. The man isn't just a blacksmith, he's slave trader too."

"And this is the reasoning behind their connection?" Zevvin asked, furrowing his brow. "Bertrand is running some type of elven brothel, I assume?"

"Exactly." Talim crossed her arms with a frown. The door behind them creaked open. Both Zevvin and Talim looked over there. A small, redheaded elven woman peaked her head in the room. Sharp, peridots widened when their gaze landed on Zevvin. Zevvin recognized the elf as the servant from the kitchen. "Come in Velarill." The woman slowly slipped into the room and closed the door behind her. She was wearing a golden colored robe with red trim, a far cry from the brown tunic and pants she was wearing earlier. "This is Velarill, an informant we've been keeping in contact with as we observed Bertrand. She's given us much of the details about this brothel operation he has going on."

"When…When he throws the party…" Velarill whispered. "It's usually…when they do the trading…some of us disappear and then new servants come in." The redheaded woman bit her lip and looked down. "There is a passageway around the back that leads to a shop near the harbor."

"Jader may not be Val Royeaux, but that doesn't make it any smaller. You know which shop it leads to?" Zevvin asked, crossing his arms. Velarill glanced at Talim briefly before looking at Zevvin.

"I-I…I…I don't know…We were blindfolded when we came in. I only know about the passage because I…saw new servants being brought in one day…" Velarill gripped her arm and bit her lip. "I-I'm sorry…I'm not much help." She looked between the two before whispering. "H…He…like redheads…"

"Thanks Velarill, you've been a huge help," Talim said, nodding. Velarill bowed and backed out of the room. Talim returned her gaze to Zevvin.

"I haven't exactly figured out if he has some ulterior motive in inviting you. It seems like he genuinely would like to align with the Inquisition, but doing so while inviting you to his…brothel party seems out of sorts."

"Maybe he thinks the inquisition could farther his business? Grow it?" Zevvin asked. Talim closed her eyes and sighed.

"I do hope it isn't that." She opened her eyes and looked Zevvin over with a frown. Zevvin raised a curious eyebrow. "He likes redheads…"

"It is impossible that he planned this down to the tooth like that. If I hadn't have spoken up, he wouldn't have even known I was the inquisitor."

"Whose to say it is even Bertrand? It could be solely Damian's idea. Maybe we can use this to our advantage?" Talim crossed her arms. "We could bait him into reveling his plans and then stop everyone involved."

Zevvin frowned and shook his head. "Ordinarily, I would agree, however I am not up to strength right now. I…" Zevvin trailed off and looked away. "Just cannot put myself in such a position…without backup. We don't even know if its Bertrand or the contact that's the mastermind behind this…operation."

"They're both involved in some way, though, so we should nip it in the ass while we have the chance." Talim narrowed her eyes.

"I'm not sticking my neck out for what may be." Zevvin crossed his arms. "We don't even know which is who."

"This is some jackass from Tevinter. I know he's deep in this. We just need to figure out whether or not Bertrand is really-"

"What does him coming from Tevinter have anything to do with anything?" Zevvin cut the elven woman off. Talim narrowed her eyes even more and uncrossed her arms.

"Are you kidding me?"

"You're supposed to be one of Leliana's men and you're basing all this off of stereotypes instead of actual evidence?" Zevvin felt his voice raising. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"Look, Inquisitor, I don't know what your masters back in Tevinter taught you," Talim said. Zevvin's eyes narrowed to deadly slits as the elven woman continued, "but here on this side of the country, this is not right. Slavery-"

"My masters?" Zevvin asked incredulously. "What gives you the right to assume anything?!"

Talim stepped away from the wall and stormed over to the desk. She slammed her fist into the desk, towering over Zevvin's slightly smaller form. "I know damn well what goes on in Tevinter. Just because you happened to get friendly masters doesn't mean the rest of the elven population that has the misfortune of being slaves in that hellhole of a country has gotten the same treatment as you!" Zevvin leaned his head back and stared at Talim.

This was one of things he wanted to avoid. One of the reason he never touched on this subject with anyone outside of the Imperium - hell he never even discussed with people inside. The conversation always got so heated to the point everyone was ready to exchange blows. And by the way the veins were popping out of Talim's forehead, Zevvin knew the elf was one step away from throttling him. He wasn't in the best of shapes to be picking fights with anyone.

Taking his silence as defeat, Talim sighed and backed off slightly. "Look, you're young," Talim started, running her hand through her short, black hair. She didn't say anything farther, she instead opted to stare at the redhead. Zevvin frowned. She suddenly sighed and spoke again: "I can understand why you think what I'm saying is unfair, but-"

"I can see you're allowing past grievances get in the way of your judgement." Zevvin stood up and shook his head. "The way you feel about Tevinter, I feel about elves." Zevvin turned towards the door, glancing at a bewildered Talim over his shoulder. "If I let the past cloud my judgement, I wouldn't even be having this conversation with you."

"Look, Inquisitor, I didn't bring you in here to start an argument."

"Pretty fine damn job you've done so far, Talim. And I told you to call me Zevvin."

"Creators…why do you jump when the humans command you to hop but when the elves ask you to walk, you sit there and do nothing?" Talim asked.

"Vitae benefaria, Talim," Zevvin said, pushing the door open. Talim let out an angry growl at the muttered Tevene phrase. "I will look into it."

Vitae Benefaria (Tevene) = A respectful goodbye

Apologies for the long wait and if this chapter isn't what you expected. Been under a lot of stress lately and it has been really hard to think of anything. Next chapter I'm planning to start some real action.