Chapter 11: Cat Burglars
They were back in Denerim, where they had spent all week re-provisioning, selling useless trinkets, buying potions and injury kits. Now they were trying on armour at Wade's, and Alistair and Sten both sported shiny new breastplates and helmets. They were about to leave the emporium when Cat spotted a beautiful set of leather armour in the corner. It was so dark as to be almost black, very plain, without patterns or decorations, but when she touched it, the leather was incredibly soft to the touch and she felt the magic sizzling through it.
Herren came over and smiled at her enchanted face. "Ah, you've noticed this. It's a particularly well-crafted piece. So soft you won't even feel it, so light you'll move with the grace of a panther, but magically hardened so no blade or arrow will pierce it. Only eight gold pieces for you."
She swallowed. They'd never be able to afford this, not with the amount of money they'd just spent on the warriors' gear. Oh but she wanted this armour, she coveted it.
Zevran saw the look on her face and laughed softly. "I feel almost jealous, love," he whispered in her ear.
They wandered over to the Gnawed Noble Tavern in silence, settling down at the bar. "Why so grim?" the barkeep inquired jovially.
Cat cursed violently. "Why does everything in this thrice-damned town have to be so expensive?" she snarled in frustration.
"Well, now, if you're looking to make some coin and aren't too picky, I might have some... opportunities for you," the man muttered.
"How much coin are we talking here?" Cat's face lit up as the bartender quickly outlined several jobs involving the retrieval of compromising letters, the theft of mementoes that had become embarrassments and other work of the shady kind. A quick computation showed her that they'd be looking at a minimum of 20 Gold for the combined list. Zevran was just as enthusiastic. The day before he'd seen a set of Antivan daggers that he wanted to give her as a gift. The long sleek weapons were beautifully crafted, with carved hilts and wicked blades, sharp as sin. With a tiny touch of poison on the blades they'd be deadlier than any greatsword. If only money hadn't been quite so tight.
Wynne's lips tightened in disapproval. "It's not my place to tell you what to do, Cat, but don't rely on my help in this," she declared. Both Alistair and Sten seemed to agree with the mage, and even Morrigan made it abundantly clear that the two rogues would be alone in this.
Zevran smiled. "I'm with you if you want, my beautiful. There'll be a bigger share for each of us if the others aren't interested."
The assignments turned out to be a source of pure enjoyment for both of them. They'd scale the rooftops at night, moving with silent grace through the darkness, enjoying the thrill of secrecy and stealth. Zevran would take the lead, scout out the surroundings, find a way in over balconies and through seemingly inaccessible windows, while she would take care of locks and traps. They worked together in perfect synchronicity, and it took them only three nights to complete all the assignments but one.
They left the most difficult task for the fourth night - a huge noble estate guarded by dogs and armed mercenaries, where they had to retrieve a misguided missive written by a young lady cursed with singularly bad judgment. Everything went smoothly. The dogs went to sleep happily after a meal of drugged beefsteak, the guards never knew what hit them from behind, and the locks of the study door and the huge wooden desk presented no serious obstacle to Cat's nimble fingers. They quickly made their way back over the rooftops and had almost reached their inn when they paused for breath. Zevran seemed almost drunk with elation as he pulled her into a passionate embrace, kissing her deeply and murmuring seductive words into her ear. Then as he turned back, his attention caught up for a split second by her soft sigh, his foot slipped on a loose tile and he slithered over the roof's edge. He managed to land almost without a noise, but she could hear him gasp. In the wink of an eye she was at his side. His ankle looked curiously twisted and he seemed to be in pain, but he clung to her shoulders without a sound as they quickly made their way back into their room.
Only once they were safely indoors did he allow a steady stream of words in his native tongue to pass his lips. Cat had only learned a few words of Antivan so far, but she didn't doubt that she was just listening to some of the most profane and obscene swearwords she'd ever come across.
"I'll go wake Wynne," she sighed. He nodded grimly, less than enthusiastic to have another witness to this embarrassing incident, but he knew just as well as she did that his leg would need expert treatment if he wanted to remain as agile as he was.
Wynne entered the room, her face a silent mask of reproof as she quickly examined his ankle. "The bone is broken," she said. "I can set it for you, but it will hurt. A lot."
Zevran shook his head impatiently at her warning, motioning for her to get on with it. As she gently grasped his foot and sensed the bones slide into their proper place, Wynne could feel him tense. Little beads of sweat appeared on his forehead, but to her surprise he didn't utter the tiniest sound of pain. Of course, she realized. His Crow training had probably included lessons in how to stand up to torture. Despite herself she was impressed.
"Right," she said. "I'll put on a poultice to take the pain away and cast a spell that will make the bone mend quickly, but you mustn't move the leg, at least for this one night, preferably longer." She looked at Cat. "Make him rest the leg, I don't care how. Tie him to the bed if you have to."
The mage left with a final reproachful look, and Cat dropped on the bed next to her lover with a sigh of relief. "Maker, I'm glad. I was really worried about you for a moment."
Zevran made a small soothing sound and put his arms around her, pulling her into a long deep kiss. She sighed contentedly at the touch of his naked body, but then he shifted below her and she felt him tense in pain. Immediately she pulled out of his embrace. "Now be good, Zev, you heard what she said," she scolded him.
Zevran grinned, remembering the mage's choice of words. "Well, what are you going to do about it?" he breathed, a wicked glint in his eyes.
To his surprise Cat didn't blush but smiled too, her tongue darting out to moisten her lips as she reached for her pack. His eyes went wide when she produced a set of thin leather straps and quickly fastened his wrists to the bedposts. He tested the knots. They were firm but he was pretty sure he could get them off if he really wanted to.
As she proceeded to remove his pants and tie his legs to the bed, taking special care with the injured one, he couldn't resist asking.
"You seem to be awfully familiar with the... mechanics of this, cara mia. Where did you learn this?"
She glanced back over her shoulder with a quick smile. "When we were at the Pearl three days ago, I asked Sanga about their more exotic services. Especially the ones that don't involve nugs. She was very helpful."
Zevran was stunned. She never ceased to surprise him. As soon as she had him tied securely, she moved to the foot of the bed where he could see her and began to slowly, seductively take off her shirt, then her pants. Her hair had grown out a little lately, and she had taken to wearing it in a short braid on their nightly excursions. Now she undid the clasp and softly shook out the red strands. A warm feeling began to spread in his belly at the sight of her beautiful naked body.
He was still a little wary, though, knowing that what she had in mind required considerable skill to pull off. He needn't have worried. Within minutes her hands and lips and tongues brought him to a point where he began to strain against his bonds. As she moved across his body, slowly caressing every inch of skin, he felt his nerves begin to tingle. She watched his reactions, remembering what he'd taught her, always ready to move to another sensitive spot, to adapt the pressure of her hands, the tempo of her tongue's quick strokes. When she let the soft strands of her hair brush slowly over his nipples, he gave a hoarse groan. She took her time as she moved in a tantalizingly slow spiral ever closer to his groin, where his arousal had by now become only too evident.
Zevran felt as if every single tendon in his body was stretched to breaking point, when she finally carefully let her tongue swipe over his tip. He arched into her touch, but at the same time he realized that he wouldn't be able to keep this up much longer. "Cara, if you want me..." he warned, his voice strangled with desire.
She laughed softly as she straddled him, teasing him with her hot wet core. Just as he thought he couldn't take it any longer, she quickly moved, impaling herself on his length. He closed his eyes for a moment, willing her to keep still, and she thankfully obliged.
But then, while he was still busy catching his breath again, he felt a soft ripple of muscles along his shaft. He fought for breath, the feeling so intense that he nearly lost control.
"Do that again!" he moaned, and she obeyed willingly. "Ye Gods! Did you learn this from Sanga too?" he managed to gasp.
She laughed again, satisfied with his reaction. "Yes, I did, actually. I asked her about the secret of her success, and she... explained."
If it had been possible for him to be even more aroused, the thought of this conversation between the two would have done the trick, but as it was he just couldn't wait. "Cat!" he panted against her skin, and she finally took pity on him. With a swift move she cut the ties holding his hands with her dagger, leaving him free to grasp her hips and grind her against him in a fierce motion. The single hard thrust was enough to finish him off, his body bucking up hard against hers, his mind consumed by a violent shockwave of lust. She rode him for a few more seconds, crying out when her lust reached a sharp, acute peak, then she sank down on top of him, her warm body covering his.
As she softly untied his legs, pulled a warm blanket over his body and nestled close to him, Zevran was still reeling from the tempest that had ripped through him. He shivered as they both drifted off towards sleep.
When Wynne returned the next morning to check on his ankle, she seemed content. "Just don't overdo it for a week or so and it should be as good as new," she commanded. "No more rooftop adventures, that's for sure."
"A pity!" Zev muttered with a meaningful look over her shoulder at Cat.
She returned his gaze with a wicked grin. "A pity indeed," she murmured softly.