Chapter 50

Alistair stood with his back to the door of the Tabris house, head bowed. He hadn't meant to overhear, but having done so now, he didn't have the heart to interrupt. Zevran, too, stood silently to the side, shaking his head.

The evening air was still and hung heavy in the air. The Alienage was in mourning. Alistair was sure that if they eavesdropped on any of the houses, the story would be similar to that of the Tabris house.

He couldn't do anything for them. That was what bothered him most. The past year had been hard for various reasons, but finally it would come to an end. The Landsmeet was just around the corner, and Loghain would go down. That, he could guarantee.

Alistair started walking away from the house, and Zevran chose to follow suit.

"Not going to wait for the fair bard, friend Alistair?"

"I'll come back in a bit. And we're not friends."

"How you hurt me, friend Alistair! We're not friends? After all we've been through?"

"Yeah, well, friends don't take contracts to kill each other."

"You would be surprised. In Antiva-"

"Yes, yes, everybody tries to poison everybody in Antiva. Sing a new song, would you?"

Zevran laughed. "I am no bard, but I am thinking of writing a book and featuring you, friend Alistair, as the protagonist. Because that is what friends do. Other than give each other massages and tattoos, of course."

Alistair squinted at him. "I don't believe you."

"Believe what you will, but the book will be a bestseller. I shall title it, 'Fifty Shades of Grey Warden: The Saucy Adventures of Ferelden's Saviour.'"

"You do that and I'll slap the tattoos off your face."

Zevran chuckled heartily as they reached the great big tree at the Alienage's central square. "You are free to try that once we are less engaged, friend Alistair." He looked around, smiling. "You may come out now, Taliesen."

Alistair was confused momentarily but then half a dozen shadowy figures stepped out from alleyways and behind buildings. One stepped out from behind the tree, clapping.

"The great Zevran," he said, "I would have expected nothing less. Good to see you've not gotten rusty, old friend. And this is the mighty Grey Warden, I take it? The Crows send their regards, once again."

Zevran chuckled lightly. "Did you volunteer for the job, old friend?"

"Oh, I volunteered," answered Taliesen as he and his men surrounded them. "When I heard you had gone rogue, I just had to see for myself."

"Well, here I am. In the flesh."

Alistair did not like where this was headed. He placed his hand on the pommel of his longsword and looked around. Brigandine cuirass, kettle helm, vambraces. Efficiently armoured, all of them. He liked it even less.

"You can return with me, Zevran," Taliesen said as he stepped closer. "I know why you did this and I don't blame you." Alistair glanced at Zevran. "It's not too late. Come back, and we'll make up a story. Anyone can make a mistake."

The assassin reached out to place his hand on Zevran's shoulder, but Alistair unsheathed his sword and held it before Zevran.

"So I don't know how things work in Antiva," he said, "but here in Ferelden, we're not in the habit of trading our friends."

Zevran snorted. "Friend Alistair is right, Taliesen. I can manage without the Crows just fine." He drew his sidesword and dagger slowly. "And you should have stayed in Antiva."

Alistair had a feeling Zevran would never let him live this down.

Leaving the two old friends to duel it out, he turned his attention to the other Crows. The closest one was in the process of drawing his sword, and Alistair punched him in the face. He felt the man's nose crunch against the steel encasing his hand. Thank Andraste for plate armour! The man fell clutching his face, trying very hard to not choke on his blood.

The others weren't so ill-prepared. They came at him in tandem, weapons held at the ready. Alistair was comfortable against multiple opponents, but five against one was bad odds whichever way he looked at it.

From the sounds of swords clanging against each other behind him, Zevran and his Crow friend were still going at it. Alistair frowned and resigned himself to a beatdown.

Friend, my arse.

As a brick flew through the air and struck one of his would-be assailants in the helmet, Alistair couldn't help but snicker at the absurdity of what had just happened.

What happened next, however, was far from absurd.

The elves emerged from almost every house, armed with sticks and canes and actual weapons in some cases. They were all angry after the events of the day, and Alistair recognised a lynch mob when he saw one.

"Get 'em!" said Soris, who was leading them, and for a single trepidatious moment, Alistair thought he was included in the ''em.' He was very happy to find that he was not.

It was a glorious pummelling nonetheless. Five trained assassins against fifty or so angry elves. It was no contest. The elves needed to let fly at something and by Andraste did they let fly. Why, the poor assassin blokes could scarcely be recognised by the time the elves were done. They left them tied to lampposts for the authorities to find.

Taliesen, however, was not so lucky. Zevran had slain him before the elves ever got the chance.

"You do love me," Zevran said with a grin as he strode up to Alistair, who grimaced.

"I have no idea what you mean."

"You called me your friend."

"No I didn't."

"Yes you did."

"No I didn't."

"What say we flip a coin? Heads, you did. Tails, you did. I shan't bother flipping, because you did."

Alistair had a quip ready, but it never left his lips.

"What did you boys do?"

He snapped around to face Leliana, her hands on her hips.

"We did nothing," he replied. Zevran nodded.

"If anything, the doing was almost done to us."

"Yes, we are innocent of this crime. I swear on cheese."

"And I on the pretty prostitute whose name I cannot quite recall at present."

Leliana shook her head and placed a hand on Alistair's cheek.

"I'm glad you are unhurt."

Alistair smiled and kissed her palm. "Ready to go back?"

He, for one, was tired. It had been a tough few days, what with getting captured and escaping and apprehending slavers. The Landsmeet was still to come and he wanted to get some well-deserved sleep.

Those dreams were dashed when Leliana shook her head.

"I have some business to attend to," she said quietly, withdrawing her hand.

Alistair was instantly on alert, knowing exactly what she was talking about. It was time, then. He looked at Zevran, who nodded. Alistair exhaled.

"Lead the way."