Standard Disclaimer: Bioware owns all Dragon Age characters and in game content. I own the bits that are left.
Chapter 8 – Becoming a Fledgling
A month ago in Antiva
Zevran was practically bouncing on the balls of his feet in excitement. After the initial bout of fear and despair when he thought Marta had sold him off like some unwanted furniture, he had calmed and grew excited at the life he was going to lead from the stories she painted to him.
Truth to be told, he was bored with his present life. There was nothing to do around the brothel. The more favoured courtesans had their own servants to look after their every need and the ones less so took care of themselves or had their children do it for them. They all kept them and theirs away from him, seeming to think he was unlucky since he had caused his mother's death or simply because he was an elf.
Marta was the only reason he was still hang around. He had many offers from the gangs of street rats plaguing Antiva City to join them and leave the brothel. He did not want to break her heart by resorting to the thieving ways as she had so often admonished him about. He also did not think he would be very good at preying on hapless strangers who happened to have extra coin but not enough to hire Crow bodyguards.
Nevertheless, he would have joined them in a heartbeat if Marta had not explained herself. His chest tightened as he recalled the love that had shined momentarily in her eyes for him before her often donned mask of heartless brothel owner settled upon her face again. He would not fail her. He would become the best Antivan Crow in recorded history.
Thus, he had woken before dawn, eager to make good his undeclared promise and was all packed and ready to go before breakfast.
Where was this Crow Master? It was already in the middle of the morning and word of Marta selling him off to the Crows had already pervaded the entire brothel. Its occupants, who usually did not rise before lunch or, for some, even tea time, were all awake and curious to see its young occupant's new master.
Marta had sternly told him that she did not want any hysterics from him. She had a part to act and so did he. She would never forgive him if anyone suspected the real reasons behind his sale or if he gave his new master any problems.
"ZEVRAN!" Marta bellowed towards the brothel before turning to consider the Crow Master in front of her. He was dressed in full black leather armour that fit like a second skin over his toned body. Twin daggers were strapped to his back bearing the infamous Crow insignia.
"Do you have to do that?" Ears ringing, Frediano winced, rubbing his hands over his ears as he waited for his newest recruit to appear. Seconds later, a scamper of feet could be heard and the little boy flew out of the open door, bearing a large, new backpack, in new clothes and shoes. Frediano raised his eyebrow in surprise. "He doesn't need new clothes, the Crows provide for their own. You won't need the backpack either; we don't allow recruits to have possessions other than daily necessities."
Marta puckered her lips in a sneer. "Just what kind of training would he be put through?" Her eyes did not betray any of the doubts and fears that had surfaced at the stranger's declaration. "Surely, he would be allowed to bring a few changes of underwear?"
Snickers could be heard from above and behind her. Marta's lips thinned. She would not show any affection for the boy in front of the occupants of her brothel. "Zevran, give me the pack. I will keep this with me until you return for your weekly visits." Zevran handed over the pack with any fuss. Not only was the pack too heavy to be lugging around, if the Crows did not encourage possessions, he knew better than to have any. He had learned early in life that sticking out too much in a crowd was just asking for trouble.
Frediano nodded in approval. The boy seemed very biddable. "Since I bought you, anything you have belongs to me." He stated arrogantly before gesturing for Marta to hand over the pack to him.
Marta's eyes turned the colour of cool sapphires. "The pack is mine. I loaned it to him. The underwear is based on an advance I am lending him in case he needed anything for his training. If the Crows will be providing him, I won't need to give him that advance." Her eyes bore into the Crow Master. "I don't think you bought anything else from me. If you want this pack, it will be an additional two sovereigns." Zevran nearly grinned but quickly hid it by rubbing his hand across his face, as if there was a smudge on his mouth. The stranger was as likely to get anything out of her as a Sister was likely to come to Moaning Marta to ply the body trade.
Frediano stiffened in irritation. The woman had somehow outdone him with her particular brand of logic. He had thought to save the money required to purchase the daily necessities for the boy. It was required by the Crow recruit training facility for all Crow Masters to provide these for their recruits. Only the plain black tunics that the recruits wore were bestowed by the Guild Master. Alas, he would have to take the boy for a shopping trip now. "We are leaving now." He gritted out tersely, spun around and headed for the market district without a backward glance.
Zevran smiled a small watery smile at Marta before quickly following the Crow Master. Any tears that he shed were silent and unseen by anyone but the strangers that he passed.
Frediano nearly groaned aloud at the price the merchant stated for the two changes of underwear, two towels and two bars of soap that were the least each Crow Master was expected to provide for their own recruits.
One sovereign! I am going bankrupt before any of them makes Crow. With my luck, they would probably all die on me and I would have to go back to doing contracts myself.
He reached for his money bag that was tied to the side of his belt to complete the purchase when he found it missing. Patting the various spots on his clothes to ensure that he did not unconsciously stow it elsewhere on his person, he suddenly realised that Zevran, too, was missing.
Snarling angrily, he immediately concluded that the boy had dared to pickpocket him and flee. He rapidly examined the occupants of all the open stalls around him until he gazed upon the thieving slave talking animatedly to an Elven merchant near the end of the long line of stalls. Stalking furiously towards him, Frediano unsheathed his daggers, ready to maim the boy for his crime and seek another less traitorous recruit.
Zevran grinned at him even as he stormed towards him. Inwardly, Frediano could not help but marvel at the audacity of the young boy who did not even bother to run after he had stolen his money bag. As he neared, his eyes lit on the bundle of underwear, towels, soap and candles that the older Elven woman was placing in front of his young slave.
"Thirty silvers for the lot and not a copper lower. You have to let me make some profit, Zevran, or I'll not be able to raise my children properly." The Elven proprietress tousled the younger elf's hair fondly. "Perhaps Rinna would make you a fine bride one day."
Zevran grimaced. The merchant's daughter was a silly little thing, always giggling at the sight of him.
"Oh… Savina, you can do better than that. I do know how you get these, you know, your profit margin is huge given that you…" Zevran proclaimed boisterously, just short of drawing the attention of some of the nearby customers.
Quicker than an agitated cobra could strike, Savina clapped her hands over his mouth and smiled a brilliant smile for any curious passers-by. Gritting her teeth, Savina hissed, furiously. "Fine, twenty five silvers."
Zevran shrugged out of her hold and ran to the other side of her stall. He inhaled a deep breath and made as if to broadcast his next words to everyone in the district.
"FINE! Twenty silvers is my last price and if you can't accept that you can go find your goods somewhere else." Savina all but shoved the items into his arms holding out her palm for the payment.
Frediano's jaw dropped. The boy had to be holding at least five changes of underwear, a similar number of towels, half a dozen bars of soap and two dozen candles. He would have been charged a sovereign for not even half of the items.
Peering at Frediano, Zevran asked, beaming with triumph. "That price good for you, Ser?"
Frediano nodded, speechless as Zevran walked over to him, arms laden with his purchases. "Perhaps you would pay her now, no?" Frediano, too dazed to remember what he was angry about, sheathed his daggers and reached for his money bag. He stared bewilderedly at the money bag that he had instinctively loosened and palmed. More than a little perturbed, he draw out the requested twenty silvers and placed them into the hands of the waiting merchant.
His gaze lingered on the money bag in his hands before he started to count the money he had inside out of habit. It was all there, except for twenty silvers that he had just given to the merchant. Mystified, he stared at Zevran with his arms full of his purchases and back at his money bag before shaking his head in consternation. He placed his returned money bag inside the pocket of the tunic he wore under his armour through the underside of his left arm. It was a precaution he had not taken since he became a Crow.
"Where do we go now?" Zevran enquired, shifting the items so that they rested more comfortably in his arms.
"The leather district." Frediano replied brusquely, still frowning over the mystery of how the young boy had returned his money bag. "How did you do that?" He could not help asking.
"Do what? Ask to buy things at the right price? It's called bargaining. I had nothing to do in the brothel except watch Marta fleece the hapless vendors who supplied the Moaning Marta. I guess I picked up some of her skills." Zevran grinned merrily, deliberately misinterpreting the question. "The other merchant would not have merchandise of the same quality as Savina. She gets her pick of the stolen goods as her brother is a Crow working for the Guild Master. Didn't you know that?" Zevran enquired, tilting his head back to peer inquisitively at the Crow Master.
Frediano's brows rose to nearly the tip of his very short fringe. "How did you come to have this information?" He probed.
"Her daughter, Rinna, told me the other day when I asked her about it." Zevran replied conceitedly. "That girl will probably tell me all the Crow secrets she knew if I asked her."
Frediano's eyes narrowed menacingly at this but Zevran did not notice this. "And she did this not under any dire threat or promise of reward?"
"Well, if you consider a kiss to be a reward then she did get a reward for telling me." Zevran answered grudgingly, nearly gagging at the thought of what he had to do.
"It displeases you to kiss a girl? Would you have liked it better if she was a he?" Frediano questioned, the malice in his previous expression all but disappearing behind a lascivious smile that he directed pointedly at the young boy.
"I have never kissed another boy, so I can't answer that." Zevran retorted somewhat truthfully, slightly chilled by the look on the Crow Master's face. The act of kissing a girl was already pretty gross but a boy? Oh, that was wrong in so many levels to the young elf.
"Well, we will have to improve your education on these things and more." Frediano stated blandly. He marched briskly to the leather district, making a mental note to himself to always bring Zevran with him for any shopping trips and find out who the profiteering Crow was.
His legs ached. In fact his whole body ached and he could no longer keep his eyes open. Zevran struggled to keep awake but he had been perching on the freezing ledge for the past five hours. He did not understand why he was asked to do this. He only knew that if he did not do well, he would have to skip breakfast again.
His stomach growled, painfully reminding him of the fact that he had not had a morsel of food for the past three days. When Master Frediano had come for him that day over a month ago, he had informed him, while travelling to the Crow recruit training facility, located in the leather district where most of the tanneries in Antiva City were, that Crows did not waste food feeding recruits who would or could not do well. If one failed a test, any test, however minor, one did not eat. He had not pondered too much on this, confident that he would be able to survive on his wits as he had always managed to. However, he was not prepared for some of the tasks expected of him as a Crow recruit.
The first week had been almost fun. He was introduced to the other Crow recruits that were near his own age. There were eleven of them, eight humans and three elves. All twelve six to nine year olds were squeezed into a room no bigger than eight feet by six feet, which led to quite a lot of fighting for space. Zevran managed to secure an upper bunk with little trouble. There were no ladders to the high bunk and occupants were expected to vault themselves onto it or sleep cramped like sardines with others on the floor. The elven boys did not have any trouble with the height, springing onto the higher beds with grace and ease. Some of the older human boys managed to climb the upper bunks and occupy those too. The others, younger ones or those who could not climb, squeezed together on the cold, cement floor.
They were awakened two hours before dawn every day. In the freezing cold air that was typical of Antivan mornings before the sun had risen, they ran around the entire Antivan City twice, not once stopping for water or rest. Any child who lagged behind did not get breakfast. After the run, their large and taciturn trainer, Leandro, whose face was likened to an unyielding mountain face by his trainees, would inspect their beds. Any boy's whose belongings were not neat and tidy, did not eat. Finally, they were made to follow Leandro across creaky and, in some places, rotted floor boards to the mess hall where all the recruits ate or stared longingly at their companions who got to eat. Anyone who made the floorboards creak or, Maker forbid, break also did not eat. All punishments were cumulative. That first day, Zevran missed breakfast, lunch and dinner.
After breakfast, they were taken to a classroom where another trainer, Tancredi, taught them to read and write. He was informed that Crows were expected to be proficient in at least three languages, Antivan, Orlesian and the Common Tongue that was spoken in most countries in Thedas. After language, they had literature, art, geography and history. Zevran was fascinated with the knowledge taught and soaked it all in like a proverbial sponge. This was the one area he did not falter. All the topics appealed to his quick mind and he was as attentive as a pervert on a naked virgin whore.
After lunch, which was a quick affair as most of the boys did not get to eat after failing the obstacle course setup between the classrooms to the mess hall, they were herded outside the compound where numerous training dummies were placed in seemingly random positions and told to pick their weapons from a pile that had seen better days.
Zevran marvelled at them. These were real weapons. Not the wooden ones that children were normally allowed to play with. He waited till everyone had picked theirs before slowly going through the pile searching for something that fit well in his hands. He nicked his hands many times on the edges of the discarded weapons, for though they were not new, they had obviously been recently sharpened. He picked two daggers that seemed to fit just right in his hands before turning back to Leandro who had been patiently waiting for him. Later he learned that they were expected to sharpen the weapons they had picked every day. It had to be sharp enough to slice paper that floated down onto its edge or the owner would not eat a meal.
Hunger was his constant companion for the first week. By the second week, Zevran was able to keep up with even Leandro in the morning runs. Flitting gracefully over the floorboards, sidestepping any creaky or rotted ones that he remembered from his own or others' experience, he was able to take breakfast with the few of the recruits who were as sure footed or simply lucky each day. He never had any trouble with falling asleep during lessons and was able to traverse the obstacle course without mishap. The only daily lessons that seemed devoid of tests were weapons training. Each night, he faithfully went through the stances taught during the day in weapons training, earning the silent approval of his trainer.
By the third week, he was running ahead of Leandro. However, on the way to breakfast, he grew alarmed when a fellow recruit stepped on a creaky floorboard that should not have been there. He looked up to see Leandro smiling wickedly at him and realised that somehow, they had changed the positions. Gazing intently at each floorboard before his fellow recruit placed his foot on it, Zevran started to grasp what a creaky or rotted floorboard would look like and sidestepped his way slowly across the threshold. In the end, he was the only person eating breakfast for that week.
In the fourth week, they started asking the recruits to perch on high ledges such as the one he was currently sitting on at midnight each night. They were only allowed to sleep from after dinner till midnight before they were awoken to be placed at each of the different high positions in Antiva City. Each day, Leandro would come and collect them two hours before dawn for their pre-morning run. Zevran started to notice that the number of recruits occupying the room was decreasing.
When he asked the recruit who was bunking next to him about this, Paolo informed him that they had literally fallen to their deaths after falling asleep on their posts. He had seen another recruit fall from his perch only to have several men scrapping him off the ground and leaving not a trace of the death behind.
Zevran jerked awake fearfully just as he nearly dozed off and before he could plummet to his death. He took heart that tomorrow would be his rest day. He would have lots to eat if his past three rest days were of any indication. Tomorrow he would be able to feast like a king or, well, a very well appointed commoner without having to worry about any more tests for the day. He wondered if he would be able to catch up on some sleep too.
Author's Notes
I would like to thank Unorthodox119 and jjones1908 for adding me to your list of favourites and Raven Jadewolfe for putting me on your alert list.
Sin of the Fallen, not so much bashing Greagoir. Merely setting up the story.
I would also like to thank all the silent readers of this story. Any reviews (either good or bad would not matter but please be constructive) will be greatly appreciated. Thanks in advance.