Chapter 7

Zevran wanted to believe that Varric and the others would be able to drive the spirit out of Lyna, but he wasn't so certain. Lyna was an experienced and cunning fighter. If the group thought she was simply an archer than they would be sadly mistaken. He knew she could use those daggers strapped to her back as easily as she could her bow. He had trained her personally and she had surpassed the master.

Drawing his own weapons he watched as Merrill started chanting. A silver blade pressed to the chirper elf's palm. She slipped the blade across her pale flesh, a bead of red following the silver flash. The droplets of blood started to glow. Zevran shivered and turned his eyed away. He normally didn't oppose blood magic, but used against Lyna…it was another story. He didn't like the idea of even a supposed friend trying to control her. And their opponent was an unknown entity who had taken up resident inside Lyna. Who knew what powers it possessed?

"Merrill, don't!" He warned too late, the little mage completed her spell and flung out her hand speckling glowing droplets of blood at Lyna.

A thin unamused smile stretched across Lyna's face. "Foolish little mageling." Lyna raised a hand and flicked it. Merrill lifted by an invisible hand flew several feet across the room and into the wall. She hit the stone with a sickening crack.

"Daisy!" Varric yelled, leveling his crossbow at Lyna. The dwarf fired his weapon.

The bolt flew toward Lyna in a straight unerring line. Darted forward moving behind the projectile. Lyna turned to face him, raising a hand. The bolt stopped mid-flight. A few scant inches from piercing her palm. She looked curiously at the object before flicking her hand again, sending the bolt spiraling into the nearest wall. Her eyes never leaving that of Varric's. Zevran caught her around the waist at a run. She was small and light, his momentum carried both of them to the ground, as another bolt whistled over their heads.

Hitting the ground with such force knocked the air out of Zevran's lungs and he gasped. Lyna growled as he pinned her hands under his knees, applying as much of his body weight as he could to her wrist.

"Insolent peasant! How dare you?" Her voice was low and harsh.

"Oh, I dare." Zevran said once he could find the air to speak. Lyna started squirming under him.

Not that he didn't mind the moving, but he much preferred when it was in pleasure and of her own violation. "Realse me!"

"You first, my dear." Zevran cooed pressing a blade to Lyna's throat. Her white eyes darted up and down.

"Filthy weakling."

"Yet, it is you that's can't move." He smirked as he sat up a little bringing his other blade to prick her in the side. "I could end that body you are inhabiting in a few seconds. What would that do to you, I wonder? Something tells me that you need her to walk out of here. But I wonder what happens if she dies?"

Lyna's eyes widened. "You wouldn't kill this woman. She's precious to you." She laughed, a shrill hollow sound. "You need her as much as I do."

"That's where you are wrong." He pressed his blades a little harder drawing a thin red bead from Lyna's neck. "I don't need her. I desire her, but I don't need her. And I know that she would rather die than be subject to the whims of what ever being you are."

"Then you would have already slit my throat if that was the case."

"I didn't say I wasn't reasonable." Zevran leaned his mouth to her ear. His breath tickling it. "I propose a trade. Her life for yours. Get out of her body and you'll live in whatever existence you had before, or…" He trailed off letting his words sink in.

"This body is tainted with the blood of the Black City. She is mine! It was written! She is mine!" The spirit spat.

Zevran's heart lurched. He knew what Lyna would truly want him to do. He had been bluffing though. He wasn't certain he could kill her. They had talked about it. Talked about when the Calling came and she headed to the Deep Roads if he would then if she was too far gone to stop her from losing herself completely. She wanted to be buried with a tree over her grave.

Could he?

Yes, I would rather her die than live like this. And so would she. Lyna wanted to die to be as much of herself when she died as she could. This being was taking that from her. She started to move again. Snapping and growling at him like a wild one. He held her, though he did manage to knick her throat and side with his blades.

"Lyna!" Zevran yelled, trying one last desperate ploy. "I know you're still there. My sweet Warden, come back to me." He whispered the last words letting his concern and fear lace his words.

She squirmed more. "Your Warden is lost!" She laughed at the look of his face.

"No, I don't believe you. Otherwise you would have killed me already." Zevran stated. If this being had access to Lyna's memories and it was possible that Lyna could be drawn forth by someone he was it. The logical choice would have been to eliminate Zevran first. It made sense. He was the biggest threat to the being losing its host.

Instead the being had tried to leave.

"You're still in there." He whispered bringing his face inches away from hers. "And I think whatever are knows it too."

He closed the distance between them, kissing her passionately.

Lyna jerked. Her back arched awkwardly under him. Then she relaxed and was kissing him back. Zevran broke the kiss and slowly removed his blades from her throat and sides. "Lyna?"

She nodded looking back toward the pestle. "I can't touch it while it's on the pestle. Varric, there is a hidden cache at the base. Inside is what we have been seeking." Her eyes flickered back up to Zevran. "It's not good news." She hissed.