Chapter 1

Seven years later….

The dwarf sighed and scratched his red head. This was taking forever. He glanced up at the female elf standing next to him. His former Commander was chewing on her bottom lip. Her eyes darted left and right watching the other occupants of the common room. The Hanged Man was busy. Oghren really wanted a drink watching the people of Kirkwall sloughing back watered down ale mug after mug. Oghren licked his lips and scratched his head again.

"Can't I have at least one drink?" He asked his voice sounded pitiful even to him.

Lyna look down at him. Her bright blue eyes were thoughtful and her silvery tattoos twisted eerily in the common room's fire light. "No," She stated simply before returning her gaze to the room.

Oghren huffed puffing out his chest he crossed his arms. "But the little pike twirler's fine. He's a big boy can handle himself."

"This isn't king's business we're doing here, Oghren." She reminded him.

"Yes, yes, I know, I know. Grey Warden business." He grumbled watching the serving wench waggle by with a swish of her hips and a platter full of foamy, dripping ale. He licked his lips again. "But one drink isn't going to hurt, Lyna. Just wet my whistle."

Lyna shook her head. "I said, no. We need all of our wits about us."

"We're in a tavern! Soddin' ancestors, I want a drink, woman, and I plan on getting one!" He roared pushing himself away from the wall and heading over to the bar. He hopped up onto the bar stool and slapped his hand down on the bar's countertop. "Barkeep, I want the strongest whiskey you've got. Not a shot, you nug-humper, just set the whole soddin bottle down."

"Oghren!" Lyna hissed from behind him.

"Oh soddin it all, woman, just sit down and have a drink as well. You can't pretend that you're not worried and stressed about all these secret meetings and that former Crow you runt around with isn't hiding in the city from his former associates." Oghren stated taking a swig from the whiskey bottle.

Lyna snorted and sat down next to him. "Zevran can take of himself."

"You say that like you aren't worried. Been practicing?" Oghren took another drink. The whiskey was horrid without any actual flavor or burning. "Nug piss." He muttered looking at the bottle's label expecting it to say just that.

"I haven't been practicing. I know it's true. He's got a plan."

"A plan in which involves your Dalish clan and using himself as bait. Come on, admit it, woman, you're worried." Oghren knew she was. He could see it in his fellow Warden's eyes. Her blue eyes didn't tell him much, but the little wrinkles around the edges that appeared whenever Zevran's name came up or Grey Wardens secret meetings were mentioned.

"I'll admit I'm a little worried about him and the Clan. I don't know what the Crows have planned. But using himself as bait." She rolled her eyes and took the bottle from Oghren examining the label before taking a small sip. She made a face and sputtered as she swallowed the awful liquid.

"Horrid ain't it?" Oghren asked chuckling as she thrust the bottle back into his hands.

Lyna nodded and running her tongue over her teeth. "Awful. Definitely not Junar's wine that's for certain."

"Who?" Oghren inquired taking another swig. Awful or not he didn't intend to waste any of it.

"He was a leth…friend of mine back in the Clan. Made wine from berries. Some of it was horrible and some of it was pretty good." Lyna answered leaning her arms on the bar. Her eyes distant like she was reliving memories. Oghren continued to drink and watched her.

"Do you ever miss being in Orzammar?" Lyna asked suddenly. Oghren almost spit his drink out. Almost.

"Nope, bunch of nug lovers that didn't know their own asses from shields. Huh, I've had more fun running around with you and the Wardens these past few years than I ever did in that dung heap of a city."

"But didn't you have friends? Family?"

Oghren shook his head. "Nope, nothin."

Lyna sighed and traced a craving of some type of rune that was etched into the counter top. "I miss them sometimes."

Oghren sighed and placed the bottle down. "Why are you telling me this? Don't tell me that one little sip of whiskey went right to your brain."

"No, it just that I'm tired of the meetings and secrets. I'm tired of running around. I stopped the Blight shouldn't that be something. Aren't I entitled to a little peace and quiet before my Calling comes." Lyna looked down at the marking on the surface in which she had been tracing. She stopped and then slammed her fist down. "I don't mind being a Grey Warden, most of the time, but at times its trying."

"What I'm hearing is that you would rather be helping your former Crow than sitting here waiting for the pike-twirler and the Wardens of the Free Marches to show up. And it's making you nervous that Alistair has been up upstairs in his room for the last half hour talking to a representative from the Chantry and the Mage Circle here in Kirkwall." Oghren poked the bottle of whiskey with a stubby finger. "You would rather be chasing down those Crow bastards that almost killed your man."

Lyna's eyes darkened to almost black. She looked at her clenched fist and nodded. "I would give anything to put an arrow through their gullets." She growled.

Oghren nodded. "Don't worry, the elf is cunning. He'll be fine. He was just getting a little soft around the edges these past few years, but he's a quick one." Oghren didn't normally show signs of sympathy, but in this case he could understand. Zevran had been ambushed a coupled months ago by the Crows. He had been completely caught unaware. It had the taken the former assassin the better part of five years to stop being paranoid and just relax even around Lyna. The Dalish Warden was patient and understanding. Oghren had been amazed at the transformation in the former Crow whenever Lyna Marahiel was around. Zevran became focused and driven in his need to keep her close and safe. He wasn't overprotective, but he was cautious.

"He'll be all right," Oghren stated flatly. If anything the elf knew how to take care of himself. It was the one thing he seemed lucky enough to manage his way out of trouble time and time again. He would get lucky again. Oghren didn't really sense that it was the elf's time. There was no precursor chill running along his spine.

"I hope you're right." Was all Lyna said as she went back to tracing the craving on the countertop.