Chapter 14: Siren's Call
They arrived at the Siren's Call as the last of her cargo was loaded. A converted Rivani warship, the sleek frigate did not have the hold capacity of most merchant vessels. With her limited space, Isabela specialized in finished goods and hard to obtain items, not bulk goods such as lumber, grain or wool. The speed and maneuverability of the vessel made the Siren ideal for lucrative smuggling operations as well.
"Welcome aboard the Siren's Call, the fastest ship between here and Par Vollen." It was a bit of an exaggeration, but Isabela was understandably proud of her vessel.
"Thank you; we're honored to sail with you." Aithne gave the captain a rather stiff bow as the woman turned toward Zevran.
Isabela appraised the Antivan with knowing eyes, and then ran her fingers along his jaw in a gesture of casual familiarity. "My sweet, you look so tired. A nice restful sea voyage could do wonders for you."
Stepping back, Zevran searched for a way to divert his former lover. "Isabela, had I known how well command would suit you, I would've aided you without the contract. You must take care, lest you distract our mage here. He has already expressed an interest in learning the ropes on a vessel with the fine curves of the Siren." His rich accent and careful emphasis made the innuendo clear. Zevran stood in quiet amusement as Isabela openly assessed Anders. Mission accomplished.
"The Siren does have fine lines; she can easily handle even the stiffest seas." Isabela apparently liked what she saw.
"I have always thought the soft rolling of the ocean rather fascinating." Anders' eyes were trapped by the captain's barely concealed bosom.
At that inopportune moment Ser Pounce-A-Lot elected to poke her head out of Anders' pack and emit a loud meow in protest.
Glaring at Aithne's Mabari, then at Anders' cat, Isabela said, "I am not transporting a menagerie."
"Ser Pounce-A- Lot is not a menagerie! Besides, she is a fine mouser, I'm sure she will be useful." Anders reached up to stroke the cat, who was now perched on his shoulder.
"Sky and Pounce will both be well behaved and cause you no trouble. I give you my word." Aithne's gaze swept past Isabela and found purchase on Anders.
"No, no trouble at all." The mage stammered and nodded acknowledgement of order received.
"Any trouble and they are off the ship – I don't care if they have to swim. Zevran, you know where the spare cabin is, you can all share or you can bunk with the crew." Isabela stalked off to supervise the final preparations for launch.
"You're lucky she didn't simply throw you and Pounce overboard. Cats are considered bad luck on a ship." Shaking his head at Anders, Zevran led them aft to the cabin.
Anders surveyed the tiny cabin and the tension still present between his two companions and quickly decided he would rather sleep elsewhere. He turned to look for the crew quarters and was stopped by Zevran.
"You might wish to leave your things here. Isabela runs a good crew, but no sense in offering temptation."
Heeding Zevran's advice, Anders set his pack down on the floor and then stood holding Pounce, unsure of what to do with his feline friend.
"Leave him, Sky will guard the cabin and she won't hurt him." Aithne scratched the Mabari's ears and received an answering whine.
Anders looked dubiously at the huge Mabari, who chuffed softly at him, seemingly in reassurance, before setting his precious cat down. Pounce promptly stalked over to Sky, sniffed her, and then jumped onto the bunk for a nap.
"They'll be fine, now let's go get some fresh air before the weather turns again." Aithne closed the cabin door behind her and climbed the narrow steps back to the deck.
Her sails filled with the steady wind, the Siren's Call had made good time and the rocky façade of Fort Drakon, looming above Denerim's deep water harbor, had faded from view. Zevran had watched Aithne for the last hours, wisps of her braid teased free by the crisp breeze, as she stared out toward the open ocean. Abandoning his perch on the half-deck he jumped down and made his way to Aithne's side.
"So what do you think?"
"It's amazing, you know I've never sailed before, never even been on a boat. But I stand here and breath the salt air, feel the ship surge through the waves and, well, I'm not quite sure how to describe it." Aithne brushed a few strands of hair out of her face, her cheeks flushed in the wintery air. "It is a bit like riding a halla, knowing you can suggest your direction, but you do not have full control. You warned me of seasickness and storms, you never told me how alive it makes you feel."
"Not everyone finds the sea so comfortable."
"Do you?"
A smile creased his face, "Yes. The Crows encouraged us to learn the basics of sailing a small sloop. I had never left Rialto Bay until I came to Ferelden, but the bay was big enough to give me a taste for it. Of course, it was very different than sailing on a large ship like this."
"Sailing seems a curious skill for a Crow."
"Not so. Antiva has many miles of coastline and several large rivers; it was often a practical way to reach our quarry. I even sailed with Rinna on one contract." His grip tightened on the ship's rail at the memory.
Aithne reached over and covered his hand with her own. She smiled when he laced his fingers with hers, accepting her comfort. "Zev, I am not Rinna and you are much more than simply another Antivan Crow. The past is just that, past."
"It is, and it isn't. I have always been able to distance myself, except with Rinna," and softly, "except with you." Removing his hand from the railing, he pulled away.
"Zev, sooner or later we are going to have to talk about this."
"I…yes, it's just that I don't know what to say."
"The great Zevran Arainai at a loss for words, I must applaud you Warden, I never thought to see that." Isabela draped an arm around the Antivan, ignoring the warning glance he gave her. "I'm afraid I must steal him for a moment, my dear. Don't worry, I'll return him when we're finished."
"Zevran is his own man; he is free to do as he pleases."
Zevran only had time to notice Aithne's impassive mask drop into place before he was steered toward the captain's cabin. Sliding free of her arm, he remained standing as Isabela closed the door.
"You're sure you don't wish to play 'pirates'? I do have a bit of rope." The captain bounced suggestively on her bed.
"Pirates you say? No, last week was pirates and rope. I'm afraid it will have to be something different."
"I rather think it is Wardens and Darkspawn you play now." Isabela schooled her features in a pout. "What's a girl to do for a bit of fun?" Her expression suddenly turned serious. "It is not your prowess in bed I wished to speak about. I wanted to warn you."
"Warn me?" Zevran leaned back against the wall, arms crossed, deliberately nonchalant.
"There seemed to be an unwarranted amount of Crow activity in the Free Marches when I set sail for Denerim. I don't know what has stirred the hive, but I do know they don't forgive failure. Step carefully, Zevran. It wouldn't be an easy death."
"Failure, what are you talking about?"
"Don't play me for a fool, Zev. I have eyes and ears, I know you went rogue. I bet I can make a pretty good guess who the contract was on as well. Perhaps a certain Dalish Grey Warden?" When Zevran failed to respond, Isabela sighed. "Do what you will. I just would hate to see your pretty hide hanging on the gates of Antiva city."
"I'll be careful." Zevran glanced out the window, trying to spot Aithne's slender figure at the rail.
Isabela followed his gaze. "Have you told her?"
"What?"
"Your eyes haven't left her since you boarded my ship. I might be offended if it wasn't so obvious. If Zevran Arainai is going to fall in love he should at least tell the woman involved."
"I…don't…."
With an impatient gesture Isabela shushed him. "I know enough of love to recognize it when I see it." Smoothing her expression, she continued. "You will dine with me tonight. Bring your Warden and the mage. I suppose, since you so delicately thrust him into my lap, I should find out what else he is hiding beneath his robes." Waving Zevran out of her cabin, Isabela spared a moment to remember youth, a misty beach and a dark-haired fisherman's son.
Failing to locate Aithne after a cursory search, Zevran returned to his perch on the half-deck above the captain's cabin. A frown emphasized the fine lines etched in his face as he contemplated Isabela's words. He had told Aithne the truth; he didn't know what to say. What was love? A fierce possessive feeling that frightened him and summoned the desire to use his Crow skills for other than pay, to lash out at any who hurt her? Was it his shameful desire to shake her and make her understand how hard it had been to watch her pine after Alistair? Was it the pain he felt at being her second choice? Was it the tenderness, the physical need to touch her? Was it akin to the anger, the lust, and the sheer vulnerability that led him to betray Rinna? Studying his hands, hands that were so skilled in the arts of love and death, Zevran tried to find answers.
"Zev."
He turned to find Aithne there.
"Dinner is ready, Isabela wishes us to eat with her."
"Yes, she mentioned that." He trailed Aithne to the captain's cabin, and was not surprised to find Anders already enthralled by Isabela's charms.
The meal passed pleasantly enough with much laughter and innuendo deep enough to require boots. The conversation wound its way from seafaring lore to Antivan delicacies and current Rivaini fashion. Aithne said little, content, as usual, to listen to the banter and secure in Isabela's clear interest in Anders. She allowed her attention to drift to the hum of the wind outside until Zevran's name caught her attention.
"So Anders wants to hear how we met? Will you tell him or shall I?" Isabela's eyes sparkled with mischief.
"Hmm, where to begin? I was in Dairsmund to fulfill a contract; my mark had entered "The Midnight Sea," a rather exclusive brothel, so I found an outdoor table at a nearby tavern to wait."
"He was rather enticing, a handsome elf, dangerous enough to be left alone on a hot summer evening. I was intrigued, so I offered him a game of Wicked Grace."
"The stakes were a bit higher than fencing lessons." Zevran grinned wickedly. "It was an instructive evening. I fulfilled my contract the next day and left Rivain. After that, on the occasions I had an assignment in Dairsmund, I found myself in that particular tavern. Sometimes Isabela would show, sometimes not. My final contract in Dairsmund was on her husband, though I did not know she was married until I researched my mark."
"He killed your husband?" Anders looked from Isabela to Zevran in astonishment.
"It was no loss. I had no love for the greasy bastard, and it gained me the fair Siren's Call." Isabela stroked Anders' thigh beneath the table, firmly returning his interest to her. "I think it is time to call it a night. Are you sure you wouldn't care to join us?" Her suggestive look included both elves.
"No, lovely though you are, I have no wish to dwell in the past."
Aithne and Zevran made their exit, Isabela giving her Antivan friend a wink as she leaned closer to Anders to better appreciate the suggestions the mage was whispering in her ear.
Zevran drew Aithne down the stairs, out of the icy winter wind. Lighting the glass lantern in their cabin, he gave himself a few precious seconds to gather his thoughts. "You were right, we do need to talk."
Aithne seated herself on the edge of the bed and tilted her head, waiting.
"I still don't know what to say, but let me try to explain." He shrugged out of his heavy cloak and hung it on the back of a chair. Absently rubbing his shoulder, which had begun to ache in the cold, he sat down next to Aithne. "My life has been filled with people, acquaintances, who cared little whether I lived or was found dead in the gutter the next day. I have had few friends until I met you. Only Rinna and Taliesin, really, and they were both more than friends. Both dead now, due to my own actions. The Crows taught us the danger of emotion; so far they have been proven right."
He flinched a little as Aithne's strong hands replaced his, massaging his scarred shoulder. "When we returned to Denerim, it was clear that you were upset and I was afraid that you and Alistair…." Her fingers stilled for a moment, then continued their soothing motions. "I felt betrayed, I was angry, and I didn't wish to simply be a substitute for him. After we fought I was ready to leave, to go back to the Crows and whatever awaited me there. Then you came and said you cared…that you loved me." He turned to face her, his eyes dark, shadowed. "I still don't know how to answer that. I care about you, so much that it frightens me. I…I wanted to tell you that when I gave you the earring. I don't know if what I feel is love, perhaps it is. If so, it seems a rather more selfish emotion than I had imagined. I want you, but not if I am your second choice." The lantern light flickered off the lean angles of his face as he waited.
"Second, never! Zev, from the time I met you, even when I was still half afraid you would stab me in my sleep, you have always been there for me. I think it was after Amaranthine that I realized that you were important in my life. I just didn't truly understand how important until much later. I was too involved in the "what if's" of the past to see it, to see what you meant to me, until we fought, until I hurt you." She sighed, hands twisting in her lap as she tried to show him her heart, explain to him that it was not a contest between him and Alistair.
"I did and still do love Alistair, but he is no longer my choice at all, just as you still love Rinna even though she is gone. Yes, I was upset about seeing Alistair again, I didn't know how I would feel after the time you and I had spent together. When I saw how tenderly he treated Rothana, I admit I was relieved. They are far more suited than he and I ever had been. Even were he to walk into this cabin right now, free of the Crown, free to make his own choices, I still would choose you."
At her words, he seemed to relax, the caution in his amber gaze replaced with hunger. She let herself be drawn into his embrace as their lips met, both needing physical affirmation of the words said. The mingled flavors of wine and Zevran filled her senses as tongues explored and teeth nibbled. She stopped him when his fingers slid beneath her tunic. Setting his hands firmly on the bed, green eyes teasing in the lantern light, she kicked off her boots and knelt to remove his.
Sliding upward, she unlaced his tunic and drew it over his head, admiring the sleek muscle of his torso. Pushing him back onto the bed, she traced the bold curve of a tattoo from his hip to the laces of his breeches. With slow, teasing fingers, she finished disrobing him. Continuing her seductive play, she dropped her own clothes on the cabin floor one piece at a time, pausing occasionally to admire the view of her naked Antivan lounging on the bed.
"Now let's see if I can remember how to give an Antivan massage." Smiling, she slid onto the bed with him and proceeded to demonstrate just how well she remembered.
A big thank you to my betas Erynnar and Brownc0at who use their free time to help me make my story better. *Hugs* to both of you.
Thank you as always to Bioware for letting me play in their world.
Finally, thanks to all my readers and reviewers for sticking with the story and putting up with all the angst in the last few chapters. The plot should start to roll forward a lot more rapidly from here on.