As always, I thank Brelaina for her beta help. Finally, Lucia and Zevran meet!

CHAPTER ELEVEN

But you, you're not allowed, you're uninvited ~ Alanis Morissette

All the things she would need were laid out at her feet in neatly packed sacks. Lucia was bewildered – the plan – as she and Alistair had concocted, was finally being put into action.

It was two nights later, and two nights before the royal coronation feast day. Denerim as a whole was building momentum like one giant spring, ready to launch forward into revelry. The streets were overrun with people making their own private preparations and the castle was busy with the preparations of the huge feast to come, and not only that but the royal wedding plans were already in full swing. Even everyone in Eamon's estate was bustling around with a flurry that Lucia hadn't ever seen before.

She stood in the courtyard and looked out of the gates at the city beyond. The rain had ceased the day before, and here, away from all the noise and the people, Denerim seemed quiet. She was wrapped in a long, warm cloak which warded off the coolness of the night as she waited for sign of the carriage that would be taking her to the Pearl.

The Pearl of all places! It was the last place that Lucia wanted to be seen at under the circumstances of her coming new title.

But Alistair had insisted that if Zevran was to be anywhere, it would be there. It had reminded him of home. Strange thing that, she mused, thinking for a moment on the conversations she had shared with the Antivan elf about the Pearl. And about the brothel he had been raised in. Feeling like a whorehouse was your home! It had been just one of many things that had intrigued Lucia about Zevran, and at the thought of what had been between them, she felt her heart stirring all over again.

No. She had to force those thoughts away once more, as she had been doing for weeks it seemed. Lucia wondered if it was the upcoming wedding, knowing that she would see her family and her old friends and traveling companions once more that were stirring such thoughts in her heart or something else.

There was a sound from the gates, and she shifted her cloak to pull it closer around herself.

The plan was to arrive at the Pearl which Alistair had designed as an elaborate trap, for which she would be the bait. If Zevran WAS there, they would get closure once and for all and then she would spend the night with Alistair somewhere outside of the city in case someone had seen them in such unsavory surroundings. It would at least dispel the strange looks and whispers sure to abound at such a thing! She tried to push away the guilty feelings she had about doing this to someone who had been her friend.

But no, Zevran had NEVER been a friend! He had charmingly ingratiated himself into their group, and lied about whom he was and what he was – knowing that her mother had been killed by the Crows!

I told him about my mother! I told him about so many things and he lied! How could he? How could anyone?

The tears that sprung to her eyes were even hotter than usual, due the coolness of the spring night around her.

The Crows. She had been fearful of these men and women her whole life, terrified at night that they would come and kill her the way they had her mother – her father had never allowed her to forget who those men were, although she had grown up to understand that with the anger and need for revenge, her father was also battling some secret guilt. Guilt which he had never spoken of.

It terrified her that she had allowed someone from the Crows get so close to her, but even more so – she was terrified at the fact that she missed him – she sodden MISSED him – now that he was gone.

Her breath escaped with a shuddering sound.

She certainly didn't want to miss him. She felt an aching combination of anger and foolishness at the helpless feelings inside of her. Yes, she was stupid for missing him, but yet, there it was. She missed his laughter most of all – she remembered even during their darkest moments it was he that had been able to make light of things. She missed the man who would support her amidst everyone else's objections – for Zevran had seen it all and Lucia believed that he knew what the world was about. In him she had found the one companion who would never judge her. He had held her hand after killing Connor Guerrin when Leliana and Alistair had turned away, one saddened, the other battling his own emotions and love for her. She missed the levity he brought into their lives – because not everything had to be serious, did it? With Zevran, life had been a reprieve from the grayness of the Blight.

Just the thought that he was near, that she would see him again after so long awoke within her the same fear and excitement that he had stirred in her the night they had shared their only kiss. Amongst the pain she had felt at Alistair's seeming inability to trust her, and the confusion she felt at spending time with someone else, Zevran had still managed to make her feel like she was the only woman in the world with his tender expression of affection which she had known was misplaced but had still felt was necessary.

It was frightening for Lucia to think back on it –for even then he had captured some part of her which he had yet to return.

If only he would! Then I could be happy!

The troubling feeling was that she was stumbling, reaching for a happiness that seemed so close and yet ended up being just out of her reach. Like something held her back. Alistair was right, Lucia realized. She needed to face the bastard and look at him for what he was – a Crow and a traitor, and then she needed to move past this once and for all.

She stood up straight, taking a deep, cleansing breath. The carriage was late now, and she began to move forward down the shadowy lane, wondering where the driver was. A rustling sound behind her made Lucia whirl around, and out of the corner of her eye she saw a fluid shadow moving along the huge eastern wall.

A strangled cry escaped her for she didn't have her dagger – or anything for that matter – to defend herself with. Looking around, she spied a long metal rake used to clean up the grounds and she dashed to the side to grab for it, feeling its solid weight in her icy cold hands. Her defenses surging, Lucia moved forward into the center of the courtyard, her eyes gazing around sharply before she spotted a darker figure against the far wall. Without charging she estimated the distance between them and then lunged to the side, hoping to startle whoever it was, and then charged, running low and swift to issue a kick to the lower half –where she hoped it would hurt.

The cry stopped her heart; it was all to familiar, but before she could register or cry out, he had pinned her to the wall, his strong arm around her neck cutting off her breathing enough to make it uncomfortable. She couldn't even squirm.

"My dearest Lucia, you sprightly little bitch," he chuckled against her ear, sending shivers down her spine. "And here I was coming to congratulate you, yes? Must you always be on the defense?" he inquired. "Ah well, your so called charms have always been my weakness."

Lucia was glad for the exertion for there would have been no other way hide the erratic gallop of her heart. She twisted hard in his grip, biting him on the hand to get lose, and spun around, her hand coming up to her mouth.

"Zevran!" she squeaked, eyes wide.

She couldn't see him but his voice, the accent; everything had been burned into the bank of her memories forever. In the darkness it was impossible to see his eyes, but she imagined them sparkling with mirth, the corners crinkling just a tiny bit the way they had when she would make him laugh.

"The one and only," he replied easily. "And where were you going this fine evening? Searching for me, I hope?" he quipped and she saw him lean against the wall of the courtyard.

Rendered speechless, Lucia could only stare at the easy way he had seen through her/their plan.

"You?" she scoffed. "Never," she spat.

"Ah, I would never say never," came the reply. "After all, you would not have had that imbecile Perth keeping the proverbial watch over me otherwise, would you? Although I was a few steps ahead of him, yes? I have been in Denerim some time now."

The smile was wide, for she could see the whiteness of his teeth in the darkness.

"You bastard!" she hissed angrily at being foiled.

He laughed in the infuriating way he had.

"Do not turn your ire on me just because you have an ineffectual circle of close advisors," he replied easily. "In fact, I offer you my services. You and the newly crowned King of Ferelden. I would not even ask for much in return, except that you allow me to ravage your beautiful body from time to time," he finished in a wolfish way.

Lucia turned bright red under her hooded cloak.

"You're disgusting!" She spat.

"Tsk Tsk…such a strong word," replied the assassin.

"And delusional!" She shot back defiantly, moving away from him – wanting to be anywhere but here.

"Nevertheless," he said, waving off her latest insult and pulling away from the wall now, "I am here to escort you to your destination."

"What?"

"You heard me," he said, and she could nearly hear the smirk in his voice. "Where does Alistair wait for us?"

Lucia tried not to stare. She had missed him so –

"No. I won't go," she snapped defiantly, ignoring his question. "I refuse to go anywhere, and not with you."

"Certainly he will miss you then," Zevran reminded softly. "Would you want to worry poor, innocent Alistair? He is so…weak, is he not? He relies on you for this plan to work, si?" he asked curiously, cocking his head. "What will you tell him if you do not show yourself?"

Lucia lifted up her chin.

"I have a driver," she announced with some haughtiness.

There was a chuckle from Zevran.

"My, how you have moved up in the world!" he mocked. "Unfortunately, I am sad to say your driver is rather – how do you say… indisposed?"

Lucia's eyes widened.

"What did you do to him?" she screeched, eliciting another laugh from the elf.

"Diantre! Such assumptions," he replied smoothly, and she saw his eyes flashing in the darkness. "It was nothing. I simply invited him for a drink at the tavern, and he is…a lightweight?" he commented casually. "At any rate, he will be asleep for quite some time," he finished and then offered up a hand jauntily.

"Shall we?" Zevran offered once more, and now she could see his expression under the bright spring moon – and it was of sheer enjoyment.

It infuriated her.

"Are you insane? I told you, I'm not going anywhere with you!" she exclaimed, standing her ground.

Zevran's face fell just a fraction though the merriment in his gold brown eyes remained.

"Ah well, though I do not doubt your ability to make the long walk yourself, it really is cold, and you know how I worry about you so," he said with mock concern that ignited the angry fire within her even further.

"Please, don't bother yourself," Lucia muttered with disgust.

"You put up such needless protestations!" he exclaimed, flinging his hands out.

Lucia shoved away from him, nearly falling on the mossy walk before his hand caught her. It felt hot, as if he was branding her, and she yanked away.

"What are you even doing here?" she seethed, green eyes narrowed. "You weren't supposed to be here! That wasn't part of-"

"Well, as you know," he interrupted, "Even the best laid plans suffer under the hand of cruel fate," he said philosophically. "And the woman I know would never have lamented over a plan gone awry. She would have simply come up with another. I imagine being in love with the King elect forces you into backup plans all the time yes? He never was the brightest."

Her anger was palpable, but she refused to be baited by his not so nice comments about Alistair – it was only to make her angrier. Instead she sniffed haughtily.

"Well then you don't know me, Zevran," she replied, turning up her chin in defiance. "That woman doesn't exist!"

Zevran raised an eyebrow and it seemed almost enticing to her.

"Oh but she does, mi carino," he purred, closing the distance between them so swiftly she hardly had time to register that he had. "She exists right here," he whispered, pressing the hot palm of his hand against her rapidly beating heart.

Lucia was helpless to move away from him, her eyes wide as she stared down at his hand, so warm against her body.

"Something makes her hide," he continued to murmur before lifting his honeyed eyes up towards hers. "But she should not. Because I love her. Every amazing, frustrating, impossible, utterly perfect part of her."

Lucia stood stunned, the words ringing in her ears – a frustrating yet perfect echo.

He loves me? No. No, of course he doesn't. He wants to trick me, just like last time.

In spite of the harsh reminder, her resolve began weakening quickly as Zevran stood next to her that way. But the look in his eyes was anything but facetious. He seemed downright serious and it terrified her.

Strands of his hair had fallen out of their tie into his beautiful eyes, and she longed to brush them away, to touch his skin once more, because the one time in his arms, the start of something that had made her melt, had simply not been enough. That night had awakened within her feelings…

No.

"I want you to leave."

The words were cold, as she worked hard to keep them emotionless. "You are nothing to me – you stopped being anything when you turned on me, on US the way you did! And now you come around, foiling my plans and spewing such rubbish about loving me? You're completely crazy!"

The tears were there, but she refused to let them come.

"Completely crazy in love with you," he breathed then, shaking his head. "I have to be. I cannot think of any other reason to explain all the things I have done to return to you," he finished, and the words seemed to be sincere.

Lucia shook her head, trying to remain calm.

"Go," she hissed, narrowing her emerald eyes.

"You never allowed me to explain!" shot back the assassin. "After all the second chances you gave Alistair, and Leliana and even Morrigan, you wrote me off like rubbish without a thought! Now tell me darling, is that fair? Or is that just you…afraid of what you were feeling?"

Lucia's cheeks colored furiously.

"How predictably arrogant of you!" she huffed defensively. "Of course I had no feelings for you! You betrayed me! You…you disgusting CROW!" she hissed and yanked herself away from him finally. "Go away, Zevran. Go and don't come back. You've done enough, and I refuse to allow you more. My life is perfect now, and I won't have you changing that!"

The elf backed away, his gaze quite peculiar, but Lucia couldn't watch him long without feeling the need to fall apart. Breathing heavily, she looked down at the ground.

Why didn't you tell me who and what you were, Zev?

Words –painful words – came back to her from that hot, rainy afternoon…

I have lied to you, my Grey Warden, about why I am in Ferelden.

She wanted to know why he had betrayed her. But some questions she knew were never meant to be answered.

"Before I go," he hedged, "I want to know about this sinister plan you and Alistair had cooked up regarding me," he finished silkily. "After all, it does concern me. It is not my problem that I am smarter than both of you and I learned about it."

Lucia didn't move.

"There was no plan," she lied flatly.

"Oh but you are the most utterly beautiful liar I have ever met."

"It's true," she retorted.

"So these bags you had packed are not part of some elaborate getaway you had planned with your not so bright lover? I had heard word that after you had ensnared me in your trap you had planned on running away with the blithering Alistair."

"Well, you heard wrong. These are for the children at the new orphanage in the alienage. Royal gifts."

"Oh?"

It happened within two seconds, and Zevran was in possession of a tiny pair of white lace knickers, a wicked smile on his face.

"Those children are quite lucky!" he exclaimed laughing, the sound echoing merrily through the courtyard as Lucia jumped, trying to get her undergarments back from the elf. "But I know a lonely Antivan elven assassin whom would take much greater pleasures from these than those children, yes? Especially with you in them."

Lucia, humiliated and furious, fought hard to get her knickers back, but Zevran was faster.

"You want them back, dearest minx?"

"Give them to me!" she cried out, red faced.

"Hear me out then. Your knickers for exactly one hour of your time. That is all."

Lucia stood, trying to catch her breath, her eyes shooting him daggers. She wondered what choice she had.

"Only if I get to ask all the questions I want," she replied tersely, wrapping her arms protectively around herself.

Zevran lowered his hands, watching her.

"Always the negotiator! How I love it. Fair enough," he replied. "Your drawers, madam," he said formally.

Lucia snatched back the lace, tucking it back into the first sack, and standing up straight though her face was still blooming with color.

"Meet me in an hour at the Gnawed Noble Tavern then," he said firmly, taking a step back.

"You're impossible!"

"And you want me," he replied confidently, a smile lighting up his features.

"I want you to shut up!"

"Ah, but you do not."

"I do!"

"The Pearl," she countered then, thinking that maybe…just maybe she could lead Zevran right into the den of lions and succeed at the plan that Zevran had so single handedly thwarted. "Meet me at the Pearl. If I am forced into conversation with you, then I should choose the place."

She watched in sheer surprise as the assassin threw his head back and let out a merry laugh.